11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
G oing to the store had been a complete waste of time. North thumped his head against the seat where he was squished in next to Kace and Orion in the back of the van, gripping the one bag of shit he’d bought tight and refusing to talk to anyone. Even Kace’s concerned looks didn’t reach him. Nothing would help.
Except maybe tossing the bag out the window.
Cookies. Why the fuck had he bought ten boxes of cookies? Was he that much of a masochist? Did he need to see Tate, make his offering for a truce, and have the guy laugh in his face?
Maybe he won’t. Maybe he needs to see you still care.
Why though? Tate had made himself pretty damn clear.
But then Derrick’s awkward words came back to him.
Standing in front of the Walmart, Derrick ducked his head and took a big step back. “Look, man, I’m sorry about your condition. But we can still be friends, right?”
“Friends? You seemed to want a lot more when you had your hand on my dick.” North’s tone was cold, but he couldn’t take the way everyone was avoiding him. First Dariel and now Derrick? His own band wasn’t, but apparently they hadn’t heard the rumors. Yet.
“And I haven’t had any symptoms, but I’m glad Tate told me before—”
“Tate?” The ground dropped a few feet under North, shifting his balance and making his head spin. “He was the one who told you?”
“He was just looking out for me. But he feels horrible about what you’re going through.” Derrick’s brow furrowed. “Are you taking medication for…for what’s wrong with you?”
“I wish there was something I could take.”
Unclipping his seatbelt as the van parked, North opened the door, the bag of cookies hitting the side of the van hard as he jumped out. His conversation with Derrick hadn’t done much to fix his reputation, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was why Tate would even start the rumor.
He’d called North clingy. Said they’d had fun, but it was over. But this felt like revenge.
For what though? What the hell had North ever done to him?
Rather than figure out some way to get back at Tate, North had bought every kind of cookie he knew the man liked. Hoped he could come up with an excuse to talk to Tate before handing them over.
He still had nothing.
I can’t do this.
As much as he wished he could say a single word to Tate without being as pathetic as the drummer seemed to think he was, North still had some pride. He wanted Tate to have the cookies. To be happy on the tour—to enjoy being back.
But no way could North put himself in the position to take another hit. Just the sound of Tate’s voice, a glimpse of him, got his head all fucked up.
“Hey, Connor?” North swallowed as the guitarist stepped away from where he’d been following Annette and Ballz after exiting the second van. He might not have known Connor as long as his own bandmates, but the bond they’d developed in prison made talking to him almost second nature. “Mind doing me a solid, man?”
“Sure thing.” Connor waved his partners on, then came to lean against XVI Hours’ bus beside North. “What do you need?”
“I…” North tightened his grip on the bag. Lowered his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay? I got these for Tate. It’s not a big deal, but we don’t hang out anymore. Mind giving them to him? Say you got them?”
Connor’s brow creased as he stared down at the bag. “You never told me what happened with you two. I never told anyone, but—”
“Please don’t. And it was nothing. Just a fling.” North quickly met Connor’s eyes, which had narrowed. “His choice, not mine. It…happens.”
Nodding slowly, Connor took the bag from North. “That doesn’t sound like Tate.”
“Which you know from fooling around with him once?” North let out a laugh he hoped sounded genuine. Like he was over the brief thing between him and Tate. Like the drummer hadn’t broken his fucking heart. “He’s not into settling down. Which is good. About time he stop letting y’all treat him like a kid.”
“I guess.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck, as though uncertain whether or not he should say more. Then he sighed. “Are things gonna be weird between you on the tour?”
“Nope.” North pointed at the bag. “Less so if you’re the one giving him that. Not sure what I was thinking, but no need for him to worry that I’m still hung up on him, right?”
The parking lot had mostly cleared, with both bands and all the roadies having settled in to continue the journey. North wouldn’t risk anyone overhearing, but alone with Connor he felt safe. They had a friendship unlike any North had ever had before. Lying to him was hard.
So he really hoped Connor wouldn’t dig any deeper.
That he’d just take the cookies and go.
Instead, he put a hand on North’s shoulder and met his eyes. “I’m not always good at reading people, but I can tell you’re hurting. And you’re shit at hiding it. All the surgeries to fix Tate’s eye not working has him all stressed.” Connor squeezed North’s shoulder. “Ever think he pushed you away because he feels all broken and fucked up? That maybe you’ve gotta stop letting him?”
“I think married life got you all mushy and seeing things that aren’t there.” North gave Connor a slanted smile and kept his tone light. “It’s not that deep. But hey, if you’re worried, keep an eye on him.”
“I will.” Connor patted North’s shoulder before drawing away. “This was cool though, man. I like that you came to me.”
North grinned at that and gave Connor a mock salute. “I know you’ve got my back. Same, eh?”
Chuckling, Connor inclined his head, replying with the worst Canadian accent North had ever heard. “When we head up into the cold north , you’ll have to teach me a-boot fitting in with all the people who live in igloos and ride moose, eh ?”
“Dude, have you ever seen a moose?”
“No, but I’m looking forward to it.”
“Not while we’re on the road, you ain’t. Those beasts will fuck you up.” Enjoying the shift in topic, North groaned when Oakley opened the bus door and tapped his watch. “I better go. But I promise when we hit the Canadian leg of the tour I’ll show you some cool shit. Like house hippos.”
Eyes wide, Connor started backing toward his own bus as Jesse called for him. “House hippos? How the fuck do you fit hippos in a house?”
“They’re tiny.” North fought to keep the laughter out of his tone as he held his fingers apart. “About the size of a mouse. They’re adorable, but you gotta check around the base of your heaters before turning them on. They make these nests out of lint and stuff that can catch fire.”
“No shit?” Connor looked amazed. And like he totally believed the story that had been part of a public service announcement when North was a kid.
One about not believing everything seen on TV.
Annette enjoyed making people on twitter believe the creatures were real, but North had never tried it. And damn, this was fun. He needed fun.
So he simply nodded. “Look it up. And thanks for helping me out. I owe you.”
Connor waved him off before jogging to his bus. “Just make sure to show me one of those hippos because that’s fucking cool!”
“Right after we go dogsledding down Yonge Street in Toronto.”
“Deal!”
Climbing onto the bus after Oakley, North laughed as every member of his band looked up from where they were lounging around the sitting area, most looking amused. He plunked down next to Kace, pulling the man close, the familiar warmth against his side dimming the lingering regret of not giving Tate the cookies himself. Having Connor do it was better. Kept things simple.
Annette let out an irritated huff. “You did not just convince my husband there are dogsleds in the middle of Toronto.”
North grinned.
The backup singer scowled. “I was going to stay on our bus to work on music while he went with his band to do the same, but he’s gonna feel stupid when he figures this out and that’s not cool, North.”
Smile fading, North glanced over at the other bus through the window. “It was a joke. I figured after he looks up the house hippos—”
“Damn it, you didn’t…” Annette pushed off the sofa. “Oakley, I’ve got to get off.”
“Annette, it’s too late.” Oakley’s attempt to sound firm made North cringe. Annette stepped right up to the side of the driver’s seat and glared at him. Shoulders hunched, Oakley glanced up at her. “Balthazar is with Connor. He’ll be fine.”
“Wait.” Vanessa crossed the bus, coming from somewhere in the back, her tone hard. “Stop the bus and call Balthazar. Something’s come up.”
Oakley pulled the bus over and grabbed his phone, quickly relaying the message.
Annette paled as she looked back at Vanessa and everyone stood. “What’s going on?”
“Have a seat. All of you.” Vanessa waited for Annette to take a seat between Orion and Quinton, then leaned close to Oakley, speaking low. He nodded, opened the door for a moment for Vanessa to step off, and quickly closed it behind her.
The tension in the air was suffocating as they waited for Vanessa to return. The Winter’s Wrath bus pulled in minutes later and Oakley opened the door at a knock, letting Vanessa back on with Balthazar and Connor.
The three of them headed for the back, Balthazar stopping before the curtains to tell Connor to wait with Annette.
Squeezing onto the sofa beside North, Connor pulled Annette onto his lap and stroked her hair.
Even though North didn’t know Vanessa well, he’d gotten the sense that she didn’t overreact. She’d been ready to stand back and watch him with the fans. She was taking her cue from Balthazar on how to protect them and North would trust the man with his life. Balthazar had trusted Vanessa enough to leave her alone to guard Annette. Which meant North trusted her too.
But as the leader of the band—a position he usually shared with Annette, but she was the one in danger now—North refused to stay in the dark if things had escalated. And nothing less would have Vanessa delaying their departure.
Leaning over, he spoke softly to Kace. “Keep everyone calm. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
Biting hard into his bottom lip, Kace nodded, sliding into North’s spot as he stood, and reaching out to take Annette’s hand. Orion and Quinton watched North as he made his way to the back, but neither spoke. Everyone was on edge.
He had to find a way to fix this.
In the back room, huddled around the bed the band had decided the newlywed trio needed to have, Vanessa, Ballz, and Oakley spoke quietly to someone on speakerphone. Likely Reese, who’d asked to be kept informed of any new threats.
And there definitely was a new threat.
North’s stomach turned as he looked over at the bed. The windows had been opened, bringing in a slight chill, but a coppery scent still tainted the air. The black duvet had been yanked off and the sheets glistened with some kind of liquid around what looked like a dead rat on top of a note with three words scrawled big enough for him to read from where he stood.
‘ I’m getting closer.’