Chapter 8
Derek
Dre: Your girl’s got a heart of gold.
I toss my phone down as soon as I read Dre’s message. He isn’t wrong and yet, the fact that he spends time with Allegra each day is annoying. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy for Allegra. It’s great that she’s figuring out her passion, putting her heart of gold to good use.
But does it have to be under Dre’s tutelage?
Does it have to be in the same streets I got kicked around at a young age?
Does she see the grimy faces of little kids, with bruises on their cheeks and caked blood on their lips, and wonder: what kind of parents treat their children like this? Let them live in these conditions? Forget about them altogether?
Did Dre tell her about the dad I never knew? Or the mom who liked chasing a high more than she did her toddler?
I screw my eyes closed and shake my head, kicking thoughts of my early years from my mind.
No. Dre doesn’t share other people’s stories. I know this and yet, she’s too fucking close to aspects of my life I don’t want her to know. Memories I don’t want to think about.
It’s been a week since we celebrated Allegra’s new gig and every morning since, she’s been gone before I amble down the stairs in the morning.
The French press Levi likes to drink when he rolls out of bed is already brewed and waiting.
Her one coffee mug and small breakfast plate washed and stacked in the drying rack beside the sink.
Our cleaner Eleanor has commented five times already how nice it is to have a woman in the house. How Allegra’s presence alone has made our bachelor pad tidier.
I’ve barely seen Allegra since last weekend and now, Dre brings her up like she’s some familiar, regular presence in his life.
It’s irksome, is all.
Dre: Want to teach a music class at the house next week?
Huh? I pause, my thumb hovering over the screen of my phone. Dre’s never asked me to come hang at the group home before, probably because he knew I’d say no. When I look at those kids, with their too big eyes and too hopeful grins, I see a version of myself I’m better off forgetting.
Dre: Allegra’s idea. She was going to ask her brother but…
Fuck. I grimace. Of course it was Allegra’s idea. If she asks Levi, he’ll say yes, and Dre knows it will gut me if Levi shows up for her, for him, for those kids, instead of me.
Me: I’ll do it.
Dre: Sweet! I’ll message you some dates and times.
I shake my head, relieved that Dre doesn’t flip me some bullshit, just to gloat.
Dre: But I see how it is. When it’s Allegra’s idea, it’s a good one…
Nope, my thought came too soon. The fucker can’t help himself.
Me: Fuck off.
Dre: (laughing emoji)
I toss my phone on my bed, not in the mood for Dre’s jokes. I haven’t stepped foot inside the group home since Dre took it over years ago. That weekend, I moved furniture. I built bookcases. I helped make up beds and organize toys.
When those kids arrived, there were smiles and laughter and peals of delight. But I couldn’t witness it. Not when I know what’s waiting for most of them on the other side. Once you age out, you’re on your own and the world isn’t kind to a foster kid with no family. It’s rough and oftentimes cruel.
Dre knows that better than most and the fact that he’s committed his career, his life, to serving kids like us boggles my mind. I admire it and I respect it, but I don’t fucking understand it. Living through that shit once was enough for me.
Now, I’m going to walk through that door, see those wide eyes, and make those kids feel for an hour. Make them hope and wish and dream.
It’s fucking dangerous. For the kids and for me.
Dropping my towel from around my hips, I pull on a clean T-shirt and ripped jeans. I push thoughts of Dre’s kids far from my mind and focus on what I do best, music.
Today’s recording session was tough, with Levi wanting to switch up the chords.
Mav had thoughts on the lyrics I wrote. Jameson was distracted, checking his phone every five seconds.
At this rate, we won’t finish our album before we leave for our European tour and that shit isn’t sitting right with me.
If I can just get these lyrics right.
You vanished like daybreak,
Lost stars and forgotten night.
You haunt me like a shadow,
Clingy and relentless.
You haunt me like her.
I mentally flip through the lyrics, my mind snagging on lost stars and forgotten night. Something isn’t working and no matter how many times I turn the words over in my mind, I can’t pinpoint what’s amiss.
“Yo.” Levi knocks on my door before pushing inside and ending my mental loop.
I flip my chin at him, my wet hair brushing against my forehead. I swipe it back and wait for him to say his piece.
Levi sighs. “You still pissed about the session today?”
“I’m not pissed,” I mutter. I’m pissed as fuck. Lost stars and…and what?
Levi snorts. “Yeah, okay.” He walks farther into my bedroom and sits on a chair I’ve got in the corner. It’s usually piled high with discarded clothing, but Eleanor came today. “We’re a band, Reign. Just because you’re lead guy—”
“I’m not—”
“Shut up.” Levi smirks. “We all know you reign.” He chuckles at his own dumb joke. “And that’s all gravy. But it doesn’t mean you dictate everything. You gotta hear me out. Hear Mav out. Not all my ideas suck. Not all his lyrics are shit.”
I breathe out heavily, my nostrils flaring. While Levi may technically be correct… “We still stuck to the originals in the end.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. Your chords worked better. Now we know because we tried something different.”
“I knew from the jump,” I remind him. Does he think I didn’t test different chords before writing the song? Does he think I half-ass my songwriting?
I don’t. Out of all my bandmates, I spend the most time in the studio. The most time with a pen and paper, writing lyrics, creating music. And I will get this song exactly the way I want it, or it won’t end up on our album.
“You’re a stubborn, cocky motherfucker.”
Fact. “And?”
Levi shakes his head and stands from the chair. By his demeanor, not angry but not agreeable, I can tell he’s said his piece and is moving onto the next thing.
Levi Rousell is a talented musician, but music doesn’t own his soul the way it owns mine. Music saved my life. It gave me a real shot in the cruel, dark world I aged into. It’s my survival guide.
For Levi, it was just a convenient way out from under his family’s thumb. Mr. and Mrs. Rousell had a future vision for Levi that he never wanted to embrace. The Burnt Clovers are a convenient “fuck you” to his parents and small town.
Since we made it big, Levi’s more interested in fucking women and snorting coke than he is in jamming. As much as I don’t understand it, I try not to judge him. Too harshly.
I lift my eyebrows, waiting for him to get to his next point.
“There’s a party at Flip’s tonight.”
“Fuck Flip,” I mutter, referencing one of Mav’s stupid friends. “He nearly got busted moving coke last month.”
Levi shrugs, like the thought of years in prison doesn’t faze him. Maybe he thinks he’s untouchable. I’ve witnessed it before. People get too comfortable, whether in their wealth or in their depravity. They think nothing can happen to them or nothing worse can occur.
But it can. You can always fall from grace.
And there’s always a level deeper than what you think is rock bottom.
Levi Rousell from his strait-laced upbringing, in his too-small town, just doesn’t know that.
Neither does his sister.
I scrub a palm over my face at the thought of Allegra.
“What’s your sister doing tonight?” I ask before I can help myself.
Levi narrows his eyes. “Why?”
I shrug. “Don’t you think you should, I don’t know, check in with her? Spend some time with her. She’s here for you.”
One side of his mouth lifts and curls but his expression is sinister.
Skeptical. “Nah, man, A’s here because she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing with her life and knew I wouldn’t turn her away.
” He spreads an arm wide, as if to encompass our brownstone.
“This arrangement gives her some breathing room, yeah?”
“No, man, that’s not true,” I say automatically. “Allegra loves you. Always has.”
Levi’s forehead furrows. “Always has? You’ve fucking met her once, Reign. What, you talked to her extensively at her seventeenth birthday party?”
“I’m just saying, she seems legit. Sincere. Said she was trying to connect with you…”
“Changed my number. Too many girls got a hold of it.”
“And you didn’t give it to your sister?” I can’t hide the edge of disbelief from my tone. If I had a sister, I’d make sure she always had access to me. Hell, if I had any family, I’d make sure to stay connected.
“Why do you care so much?” Levi asks, studying me.
“Don’t. I’m just making an observation.”
“Yeah, well here’s another one. Since my sister showed up, you’ve been keeping to yourself, bailing on nights out. Not hooking up, not drinking… What gives, Reign?” His eyes narrow further as his expression twists. “Do you have a thing for my sister?”
Surprise slams into me. Not at his statement, but that dense Levi would put two and two together when he’s usually half-baked and fully oblivious.
So, I laugh. I tip my head back and bellow, swearing colorfully as my bark cuts the air.
“Are you outta your fucking mind? Levi, Allegra’s a fucking baby.
She’s the last girl I’d be interested in since I like my women experienced. You know, as a woman.”
Relief fills his expression. His confusion dissipates; his former line of questioning forgotten. “Right. Yeah, man, of course. All right, let’s head to Flip’s. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Shaking my head, I force a chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it,” I agree, knowing I can’t beg off now.
Levi hits me on the shoulder as he moves past. “Be ready around nine.”
“‘Kay,” I agree as he opens my bedroom door wider.
The second she comes into view she averts her gaze. But I see the hurt that clouds her irises. I catch the disappointment that lines her mouth.
“A!” Levi announces, like he’s surprised to see her. The realization that she overheard our conversation doesn’t register on his expression as he slugs an arm around her shoulders. “You talk to Mom and Dad yet?”
I wince as her mouth twists and her eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. That’s the question he led with? Levi’s self-centeredness has gotten worse over the past few years as his share of women, drugs, and fame has grown.
But I never thought I’d see him extend it to his baby sister. Years ago, he spoke of her with a fondness, a closeness, that made me jealous.
“Tonight,” she responds. Hardens her tone. “I’ll call them tonight.”
“Good.” Levi smacks a kiss to the side of her head. He points at me. “Nine p.m., brother.” Then he moves toward his bedroom.
I stand still, my gaze concentrated on the bold brunette I know I hurt.
But Allegra doesn’t show it. Instead, she lifts her chin in my direction and narrows her eyes.
She’s waiting for me to…what? Apologize?
That’s not gonna happen. My fingers beg to curl into fists, but I keep my palms steady.
I don’t move. Instead, I train cool, calculated eyes on Allegra.
She meets my gaze for a heartbeat, her expression defiant. Her cheeks are painted pink with anger. Her dark eyes are large and deep and fucking fearless. Then, she flips me half-a-mysterious smirk. It’s mocking and challenging and so unlike the girl I first met that I frown in response.
Allegra passes my bedroom en route to her own and closes the door with a snick.
“Fuck.” I tip my head back and lift my gaze to the sky, as if calling on a deity I don’t believe in for answers I know won’t come.
I stopped believing in good shit years ago. Allegra Rousell is good shit.
Confusing as hell and a total mindfuck. She’s not for me to hope for.
Because hope has the potential to blossom, and I don’t. All I’ll ever be is withered leaves, disintegrating in her bloom.