13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Axel
W hen someone knocked at our door early on Halloween night, Ed’s gaze shot to mine. We were nearly a week out from Rocktoberfest, but only a couple of days since his blowout with Thornton. I knew who was at the door—Ed didn’t. Have I done the right thing? For Ed? For Thornton? For me? And, perhaps most importantly…for Kyesha. “Kids trick-or-treating?”
“They never have before.” Ed frowned.
The knock came again.
I popped off the couch. “Cassie said she was working tonight. Maybe she changed her mind.” But Cassie wasn’t at the door. She’d come over the day we got back from our trip, had discovered I had no interest in having sex with her, and she’d walked out. Had told me to call her when I got my dick on straight.
Whether to my credit or detriment, I hadn’t called.
Ed followed me to the door. “I’m not sure—”
I swung the door open and pasted on a smile. “About time, you fucker.” I’d known he was coming. Had asked the concierge to let him up whenever he found the courage to show his face. Had I actually believed he’d get his head out of his ass and come?
No.
Had we talked about all the really deep unresolved shit between all of us?
No to that as well.
“May I come in?”
I held the door open and made a gesture welcoming him in. To his credit, Thornton entered tentatively. As if he wasn’t certain how our reaction would be to him showing up. I knew how I felt—twisted up inside. I imagined Ed felt the same, but my friend could be unpredictable at times.
“Do you want something to drink, or are you here to dump and run?” Ed asked the question with just the right amount of bite.
I closed the door after Thornton came fully into the room.
“Ginger ale, if you have it.”
I snickered. “I just figured you’d been trying to impress him that night.” The night we’d all met. “Who the hell drinks that shit?”
“I do.”
“Me.”
I waved my hand in the air, indicating they both needed their heads examined. Then I snagged Thornton and dragged him into the living room.
Ed could handle pouring two drinks. When he came into the living room, however, he found me sitting on the chair.
Leaving the space on the couch next to Thornton open for him.
You’re welcome. I’ll be the bigger person here and admit you both need each other. That, despite everything, you should be together. Even if you getting together isn’t the best thing for me. Not by a long shot.
Ed handed Thornton the drink…and their fingers touched.
Ha! Still there. No matter what Ed contends.
My friend sat on the couch. But as far away from Thornton as he could manage without it looking like he was avoiding the man he used to fuck.
Said man frowned for a moment, then smiled.
“Why are you here?” Ed again. Always abrupt when stressed.
Thornton tapped a flash drive I hadn’t noticed with his index finger. “Rough cut.”
Ed caught my gaze. What the fuck?
“That was…quick.” I took a sip of my cola from the glass bottle.
Thornton gazed back and forth between the two of us. “We haven’t got the sound fixed up, or the tracks overlaid. The narration is…rough.”
“Yeah, you said.” Ed cocked his head. “Do you really think we’re buying what you’re selling?”
I held up my hand. “Maybe the man deserves a chance? Maybe we should see what he has to say before we judge him?”
“Oh, like he gave us a chance? Like he didn’t come into this whole clusterfuck with preconceived notions? About all of us, I might say. He doesn’t care how he destroys, just as long as he gets—”
“Ed.” I snapped my friend’s name.
He shut his mouth.
“Why don’t we watch the video and then hash things out?” Thornton’s discomfort was so clear that I almost felt bad for the guy.
Almost.
“Fine. We’ll watch your video.” Oh yeah, Ed was pissed .
I leapt out of my chair, snagged the thumb drive, and set to work. Ed could barely figure out which remote to use. The electronics in the house were my domain. When I had everything set up, I returned to the couch. I nudged Thornton so I could sit next to him.
So those two idiots would have to sit closer together.
“Axel.” Oh yeah, Ed was pissed .
“What?” I could play dumb. “I want to look straight ahead.” Which I totally could’ve done if I swiveled the swiveling chair.
But Thornton might not know that.
And Ed was going to keep his mouth shut.
I pressed play, and the video began.
As the fifty-one-minute video scrolled across the screen, my mind spun. What I was watching was all about us. About Grindstone. Yeah, he touched on my early years with Ed—but the bulk of this was about our journey to Rocktoberfest. And the final shot was of the six of us when Pauletta told us about the contract.
No mention of Kyesha.
When the screen went dark, Thornton snagged the remote from my willing hand and shut the machine down.
None of us spoke.
None of us moved.
Ed cleared his throat.
I rose, snagged the remote back from Thornton, and headed to the entertainment system. I tried to retrieve the flash drive.
“I don’t need it back. It’s just a rough cut—”
“You didn’t mention Kyesha.” Which I’d thought was the whole point. Since Ed told me last week that Thornton was Kyesha’s older brother, I’d expected vitriol. Okay, well after I got over my shock. Kyesha was Black. Thornton was…the opposite of Black. Turned out she’d been one of six children adopted by their parents—and he was their only natural child. Whatever that meant. Where I expected a confrontation here, though, I got…nothing.
Thorton glanced at Ed before returning his attention to me. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s finished.” His hand rested on Ed’s thigh.
I hadn’t noticed it before.
Ed didn’t remove it. He was as stiff as a board, but he didn’t pull away.
“I’d like to do an interview.” Thornton’s gaze left mine and refocused on Ed. “Both of you.” He let out a breath. “I know talking about her brings up bad memories—”
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” Ed’s lower tone was almost a growl. In fact, I wasn’t certain he meant for me to hear them. That was him—protecting me to the last.
“Ed—”
“No, Axel. This isn’t up for debate.” Again, low and growly.
Fuck this shit . I’d had enough of Ed protecting me. I could respect why he was doing it, but I needed to stand on my own two fucking feet. And take responsibility for my part in Kyesha’s death. Damn the consequences. I stalked to my room. Then I reached under my mattress and pulled out the photo lab envelope full of pictures. Of Kyesha. My hand shook as I tried to take it in.
I’d known Kyesha died while I was in rehab. What I hadn’t known—because I’d been too selfish to ask—was when. She was gone, and it hadn’t mattered. Until last week when Ed and I finally—for the first time in almost ten years—actually talked about what happened. And the reason for his omission became clear. Back then, things had gotten bad. Really, really, really bad. I was doing drugs more than music. We all were. And Pauletta was threatening to quit and Ed finally—finally—got me to admit I had a problem. We left Kyesha in Vancouver while Ed drove me up to Eternal Springs in Hope. Almost three hours away from the city of my birth.
What I hadn’t known, because I’d never thought to ask, was what happened next. I checked into rehab and a few weeks later, when Ed could finally come to visit, he told me Kyesha died. Whether because I was so far down the rabbit hole already, or because my psyche couldn’t cope, I just nodded and tried to move on with my life.
That critical lack of curiosity, though, came back to bite me last week.
Kyesha died while Ed was taking me to Eternal Springs. She took a pile of money off her credit card, bought drugs, then overdosed in our crappy basement apartment. While I was on my way to salvation, she’d died alone.
With shaky fingers, I thumbed through the photos. They told a story—from the healthy young woman who’d followed us from Portland after our first gig in the States to the drug-addicted thin and sickly woman who died. All there to be seen.
I’d never shown the collection to Ed. I’d simply hidden them away as if I could keep Kyesha’s memories at bay as long as I didn’t see these.
Steeling myself, I headed to my bedroom door. Ed and Thornton were on the other side—if Ed hadn’t forced Thornton to leave. Part of me hoped he had and part of me hoped he hadn’t.
In about equal measure.
I stepped into the living room, holding the envelope. “I keep meaning to put these in an album. But…that’d be like an irrevocable act, you know? Like admitting she’s never coming back.”
“Axel.”
Ed’s pain was clear—I wasn’t the only one being hurt here. He’d loved Kyesha like a brother. He’d grieved her death as well. He and Pauletta had been left to pick up the pieces while I’d been off, ensconced in rehab—with all the time and space in the world to sort out my shit.
“No, Ed.” I held out the well-worn envelope to Thornton. “He needs to see.”
Thornton took it. His hands trembled. Then he dropped onto the couch.
Ed grabbed me by the arm and shoved me back toward my bedroom.
“You don’t have to go.” Thornton’s voice shook almost as much as his hands.
“Just a few minutes.” Ed sighed. “Maybe call us when you’re, uh, done?” Then he pushed me into my bedroom and closed the door.
I dropped to my bed as I imagined Thornton looking over the photos. The snap of Kyesha and me together at the PNE. Smiling. Laughing. Happy without a care in the world. He’d find more of those. Some with Ed. Some with Pauletta. Some with different combinations. We photographed everything back then.
And, eventually, he’d come to the last picture. Kyesha in her favorite yellow dress. Only it hung loose. She appeared frail and thin. Hell, she’d been frail and thin. Painfully so. She’d smiled for me, that last time. But the spark in her eyes was gone. A few days later, so was she.
Fucking drugs.
She’d died of a meth overdose. Laced with some shit that had killed her. Tainted illegal drugs. That was the cause of death.
It didn’t say Axel Townsend as well . She’d been doing drugs before she’d come north with us, but not to the same degree. She sank with us. Only we crawled out of that hole, and she never did.
“Are you okay?” Ed nudged me as we sat next to each other on my bed.
“What do you think?” I sighed at the end of the snap. “You were wrong not to tell me, and I was wrong not to ask, and it’s wrong we’re here and she’s dead.”
“And yet we can change none of those facts.”
“You think I don’t fucking know it?”
“Yeah…”
I thought he might reach out to touch me, and I also thought that might send me right over the edge. I’d enabled Thornton to show up. So he and Ed could sort out…whatever this was…before things became irreparable. Which, I guessed, meant I wanted them to work it out.
Huh.
I could’ve kept Thornton out of our lives—at least for a time—but I’d let him in. He wanted to do final interviews. Obviously to discuss Kyesha. Would he just want to talk to me or would he talk to Pauletta and Ed as well? If he hadn’t known before, the photos would’ve confirmed that Kyesha had been my girlfriend. Ed cared about her, but he hadn’t seen her as anything but a potential future sister-in-law.
Huh.
Maybe that was a step too far. We’d been so young. Just because I’d considered proposing, didn’t mean Ed had thought that was in the cards. As close as we were, we didn’t share all our secrets. I’d been under the distinct impression he thought Kyesha was a bad influence on me. He hadn’t been wrong—doing the harder drugs had been her idea.
I startled at the knock on my door, but was up before Ed could move. I met his gaze, though, and received a nod from him before I opened the door.
“May I come in?”
Discomfort radiated off Thornton.
Ed pushed off the bed, turned me toward the door, and shoved me out.
“Hey.”
“Right, like I’m going to let him hang around in your room.” He winced.
The room didn’t stink. Probably because Ed had opened the window for some fresh air. My dirty clothes sat everywhere, as the cleaning crew wasn’t due for a day or two. I hesitated. Huh…I hadn’t realized the room was cold. “Let me close the window.”
Nope.
Ed propelled me into the living room. “Let the room breathe.”
I huffed. Whatever that meant.
Thornton smiled. “God, you two really are like brothers.”
I eyed Ed. Yeah, we fought—and loved—like siblings should. He was the brother I never had.
After a long moment, Thornton held out the envelope.
I took it.
“I’d love to get copies of those photos.”
His words shouldn’t have surprised me—but they did. I found comfort and pain in equal measures in these pictures…maybe it was the same for him?
“Yeah. I’ve got them on a CD. I can get it burned for you or—”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” Thornton met my gaze. “Thank you.” He scratched his chin. “I would still like to interview you.” After holding my notice for a moment, he slid his attention to Ed. “Both of you.”
“You might not like what we have to say.”
Jesus, Ed, seriously? What’re you doing? Poking the fucking bear? The man who holds our careers in his hands? Because if Thornton spun this the wrong way, it might be the end of our dreams.
The end of Grindstone.
“We can keep it light—” I had to try.
Thornton held up his hand to cut me off.
“I’m okay with the truth.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re going to tell me the hard truths. But…” He swallowed. “She was this vivacious person. Yet…she always felt a little sad. I wondered if she might have had undiagnosed mild depression. Looking at some of those photos…I just don’t know. Was it all drugs and partying?”
Propelled by an impulse I didn’t understand—but knew I had to follow—I dropped the envelope on the table and took Thornton’s hands in mine. “I’m going to tell you a hard truth right now. Something Ed doesn’t know. Something I think would hurt your parents…so I won’t repeat it on camera.”
Thornton blinked several times, but didn’t let go of my hands.
I forged forward. “Your sister loved your family. She talked about them all the time. And she probably mentioned an older brother Thornton—and I probably should’ve remembered the name. But I’ve shoved those memories down, you know? As a way of coping.
“Yeah, she called me Tony.” His laugh cut deep. “Used to drive me nuts.” He cleared his throat. “You were saying…?”
“But she wasn’t always happy.” I glanced at Ed before returning my attention again to Thornton. We were the same height. “She didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere, not in her adoptive family, not outside it. She wanted to know more about her roots. That’s part of what she was trying to get from Ed and me.”
“I don’t—”
“Basically, she hadn’t spent a great deal of time around Black people.”
Thornton took a step back—undoubtedly from the painful, but necessary blow I’d just delivered. “She never…”
“No, she wouldn’t.”
This time, when he pulled his hands away, I let them go. Interestingly, we both gazed at Ed as if he could somehow magically fix this situation.
It’s up to you. Ed can’t bail you out of this mess . “She didn’t love you any less.”
Thornton’s attention returned to me.
“But she needed more than just what she could get from your family. Our music…” I squinted for a moment, then continued. “She said it spoke to her. She leaned so hard into some of the lyrics, trying to hear who she was in the words we wrote. We hardly sing those songs anymore because we associate them with her.”
“I wondered why she sometimes seemed so distant…” Thornton took a couple of steps toward the sliding glass door.
We were on the fifty-second floor. With the cold temperatures and the biting wind, it’d be cold enough to freeze my nuts. But I’d go with him…if he needed me to.
“It’ll be cold,” Ed warned Thornton.
He shrugged.
Ed threw me a look. One I recognized. Whatever happened next was just going to be between the two of them. Ed might or might not bring me up to speed later. But I’d come to the end of my usefulness. I snagged the photo envelope and was about to head back to my room. “I’m not sure what else to say.”
Thornton met my gaze. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.” I made my way to my space. Just before I closed my door, I heard the sliding glass door open.
In my bedroom, very alone, I headed over to the window and shut it. A nip still permeated the air, and I considered taking a hot shower. I might’ve hit the treadmill, but that was in the living room, and I’d just made it clear I was going to give them space.
I snagged my phone out of my back pocket. I slid my clothes to the floor and laid on my bed. Against all rational thought, I scrolled to Hugo’s number.
—I need you. —
My finger hovered over the send button.
Do it. Send it. You know you want to. You know you need to.
Hugo was a huge gaping gut wound. A simple bandage wasn’t going to heal me. I needed stitches and antibiotics and the love I never got from my parents.
But I was going to get neither of those things tonight.
Tidy endings weren’t my style anyway.
Or so I told myself as I put the phone on the nightstand. I yanked my comforter over me and went to sleep fully dressed.