Fifty-Two - Asher
I sigh, sitting at the edge of my bed in the band house, running a hand through my unruly hair. I need a hot shower, food, and this stupid cast off my leg.
Two days. That’s how long it’s been since I left the hospital in a thick cast and instructions on how to care for my wounds.
For the same amount of time, River has been by my side with concern in her eyes, following me around. Every step of the way, she’s helped me cope with this new reality I’ve found myself in. Sometimes, a little too much.
No one tells you how painful bullet wounds are when they pierce through your skin. They fail to mention the mental decline after someone points a gun in your face and pulls the trigger. Or how vivid the recurring nightmares become. Night after night his evil face flashes through my dreams, jolting me awake. Sweat cakes my skin every time I wake up with wide eyes, frantically searching the room for the cause of it all. It’s only then do I have to remind myself that he’s in prison and far away from us.
Through my newly found trauma, I’ve discovered the best coping mechanism for me. Something I never thought I’d enjoy. Or feel relief from. Our therapist.
I had doubts at the beginning when River gave us mandatory sessions. How could I sit in a quiet room and tell a complete stranger about what my father put me through?
That first day, I think I sat in silence for ten minutes. Then, the floodgates opened, and I told her everything. The abuse. The betrayal. My mother’s death. It was all out in the open and no longer hidden in the depths of my mind for only me to suffer through.
And wouldn’t you know? The relief I felt when she validated everything and helped me learn how to cope with the past was a life changer. Even now, as something sits heavily on my mind, she was the first person I spoke to about it. The therapist smiled at me, letting me know that everything I’m contemplating is good. It’s coming from a place of true concern. She told me she’d help me talk it over with the guys, but I opted to have the discussion myself, without her help.
It’s a subject that’s been on my mind for some time now and was only cemented further during my hospital stay. After surgery, I stayed for a few extra days, ensuring I was okay. The guys and River stayed by my side every step of the way, especially my Little Brat. She glued herself to me, even then. Refusing to leave when visiting hours were over.
One night, long after the others left, River climbed into my hospital bed where we talked for hours. The future. The past. Everything in between brought us closer together. But there was one sentence that struck me square in the chest.
“You and the guys are doing so well with our training. Before you know it, you’ll be back out on tour. After this, of course.” River tentatively runs a finger over my cast, slowly working up my leg, and grabs my hand. “You’ll be as good as new.”
Will I, though? Will I ever become as good as new in her eyes?
Fuck.
“What if they leave again? They’ll go on tour. What if…”
Her words haunt me, chasing me everywhere I go. The amount of pain and uncertainty that rested in her tone reminds me every day that I gave her that insecurity. It will always be on her shoulder, reminding her of what we did. We left.
And we could do it again.
What if we go on another band tour? Far the fuck away from here. We’d probably go back to Europe or travel through the US for weeks at a time. But it wouldn’t be here. Not with her or Ly, where we need to be.
An ache forms in my chest at the thought of leaving them. Years ago, I walked away with no problem. Now? I could never. Not again. They’re too damn important to say goodbye to anymore.
Been there. Done that. And have the bruises to prove it.
How can we rebuild our life on the road, anyway?
Answer? We can’t. It’s impossible. We’ll never connect with millions of fans screaming our names when our girls are here. Without us.
Since we left Central City, this exact argument has been in the back of my mind. Every time I think I’m going to bring it up to the guys, I chicken out. I’m afraid of what they’ll say. Or how they’ll react when I let them know—I’m done.
Anxiety swirls in my stomach. Images of their angry faces pop into my mind. They’ll argue. Fight tooth and nail for what we’ve worked so hard for.
But I won’t.
They can find a new guitarist to carry on our legacy. For once, I’ll sacrifice my dream to be with River so she can pursue her dream as the Fixer. She’s already done so much for herself. Now, it’s time for us to step up and be her support system. We can still work as a band, playing local gigs. Hell, we can still have a small-scale contract with West Records. Something that doesn’t take us away from this spot we’ve carved out as our home.
Music has been our life for years now. Even before we moved here. It runs through our veins, feeding us life. It’s our escape from reality. A way to glide above our bodies and live in the moment.
Nothing exists when music is involved.
And I’m about to suggest something that throws us off the rails of our future and plummets us into the unknown. A life without music and freedom. A life here. With the girls we’ve fallen in love with.
If only they’ll listen.
After getting dressed the best I can without asking anyone for help, I make my way out of my room and toward the top of the staircase.
I grunt, hobbling down the stairs, carefully maneuvering my crutches. One at a time. Every few steps, my damn leg throbs where the bullets pierced through, and they sewed me back up, fixing the ripped muscles, bones, and ligaments. They promised eight weeks of this cast and then physical therapy to regain my walking.
“You idiot,” Rad grunts, coming up to meet me halfway up the stairs. “I told you to yell, and I’d help you.” He shakes his head with disapproval, stealing a crutch from me and winding his arm around my shoulders. “Now, lean on me like a good boy.”
I sigh, leaning into him for support. A pathetic feeling festers inside of me at the amount of help I need to get around. And shower. That’s been the worst. Having to tie a damn black bag around my leg feels so weird and even weirder when River hangs out in the bathroom with me, making sure I don’t fall over. I would have, too, the first night.
“Thanks, man,” I say, taking my crutch from him as he tsks me like a child.
“Call for help, bro. You got shot. You’re in a cast. I can carry you on my back everywhere I go. Don’t make me do it,” he quips, giving me his best dad look that might work on Lyric.
“I’m fine, seriously. I can do some stuff on my own. I’m a big boy.” I roll my eyes when he points to the dining room table, demanding I sit across from Kieran and Cal.
“Bossy, asshole,” I grumble, leaning on my crutches as I make my way to the long table.
“Morning, sunshine,” Callum quips, leaning his elbow on the table.
I snort, situate myself in a chair, and lean my crutches behind me. “Morning.”
Kieran nods in my direction, dropping his eyes to his steamy plate of food. He shifts uncomfortably, drawing my attention to his stiff posture. I’ve known the guy for a long time now. So, I can always tell when something is on his mind.
From the kitchen, Rad whistles a little tune, clinking plates and silverware together before emerging again with a plate full of every breakfast food imaginable. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, and even a massive side of biscuits and gravy.
My stomach rumbles when the smell hits my senses, and I swear, I drool a little.
“Breakfast is served,” Rad singsongs, waltzing into the dining room with two plates and setting one in front of me. He hums more, wiggling his body as he finds his seat and grins. “God, I love cooking. There’s even enough for my Little Pretty Girl before she has to go to school.”
“Thanks,” I say with appreciation, rubbing my hands together. I raise my brow when I look up from my plate, greeted by two concerned looks from Kieran and Cal.
“I’m fine,” I reassure them again, shaking my head when they scoff in unison.
“You say that, but I don’t fucking believe it,” Kieran grumbles, digging into his food and shoving it into his mouth with a huff.
Rad snorts. “That’s because this asshole is never okay. And now, he’s been shot, by Donavan fucking Drake. That super bunghole,” he grunts, roughly cutting into his biscuits.
“New rule. Never say his name again,” Kieran says, shaking his head with disgust. “I’m just…I can’t believe that happened,” he whispers, keeping his voice low so we don’t wake our two guests, still snuggled in bed upstairs.
That’s another new development I need to discuss with our girl. River hasn’t left our house since this happened. Half of me thinks she’s terrified to go home. Totally understandable, too. I wouldn’t want to return to the place where my privacy was invaded.
The other half of me thinks she feels guilty for me getting shot. She shouldn’t. It’s not her fault. I did it to protect Lyric.
We were both at the same place. It could have been her or Ly. So, I’m glad it was me. I took it so they didn’t have to.
So, the next time I see River, I’m suggesting the therapist and a good session with her and Lyric. It’ll all help us fight through this in the end without losing our minds over it.
The four of us converse softly as we eat our breakfast, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Not only has River basically moved in here, but she hasn’t been sleeping. More often than not, she plays bed roulette throughout the night. By morning, she’s slept with all four of us and Ly, who also has her own bed here.
The conversation goes on around us as my thoughts bubble to the surface, nagging me to bring it up. Say it already. Tell them how you feel. Express yourself. They’re your brothers, they’ll understand.
Finally, I set my knife and fork down, staring between the other three stuffing their faces and blowing out a breath.
For the moment, they’re happy, conversing about mundane things. The weather. The beach. Simple things. Until I complicate everything.
“I want to quit,” I blurt, unable to hold it in any longer.
Shit. I curl my fingers into fists, silently wishing I could run away. But a soothing voice reminds me I’m expressing something important, and I’m allowed to say it.
My heart beats like a drum against my ribs when everything ceases around me. The noise halts. Their bodies stiffen when they exchange curious glances.
“Quit what exactly?” Kieran asks, furrowing his brows.
“Oh boy, I think I know where this is going,” Rad murmurs, rubbing at his chin with worry.
“This,” I say, gesturing to the house. “This entire thing… I… I want to quit the band. I want to stay here in East Point and be with River.” I roll my lips together when Kieran sighs, digging his phone out of his pocket.
“Funny you should say that. I wasn’t going to bring this up until later. But you know how Constance was looking into other deals for us when we first saw River? Something that might pay a little more. Well, EJ records sent her an offer this morning for a five-year contract with us. It’s worth a hundred mil.”
Rad whistles under his breath. “A hundred fucking million? That’s like millions more than this contract.” His eyes widen in disbelief.
I take his phone, reading the messages she sent him and the email displaying the offer. It’s real. We could advance further with our career with another record company. We don’t need this gig anymore.
All we have to do is walk away from River again.
I swallow hard, not wanting to hold them back from what they want again.
“What are your thoughts?” I ask, clearing my throat. My eyes fall to my empty plate in shame. I could be dragging them down again instead of lifting them.
“There’s no fucking way,” Kieran whispers, bringing my eyes back to him. He shakes his head, and his lips twist into agony. “Before all this,” he says, waving a hand and gesturing toward the house. “I would have jumped at the opportunity. That’s a lot of fuckin money, but…”
“Lyric and River,” Callum murmurs. “If we go on tour… How much more are we going to miss? We’ll be gone for months at a time, and there’s no stopping. They’d have us on the road in a matter of months.”
“And my Pretty Girl,” Rad says with a sour expression. “I’m never leaving her again. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I love music. But I don’t love it more than my girls,” he says, swallowing a large lump in his throat. “They trump everything.”
“She sacrificed a lot for us back in the day. She took time out to build us into what we are now. Even now… She’s still working her ass off to get us back to our glory days…” I trail off with moisture pooling in my eyes. The fear from before evaporates into thin air.
Kieran’s expression softens when he looks me over, giving me a sharp nod of approval.
“I get it,” Callum breathes, setting his fork down. With a long look, he takes in all our faces and nods.
“I think it’s time we sacrifice something for River,” Callum murmurs with the smallest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.
Rad blows out a breath. “You mean, give it all up?” he whispers, blinking rapidly. “Everything?”
Kieran blows out a breath and nods. “Yeah. If we can’t be here for them every day, then I don’t want to continue on a big scale. We can still play around town and live through our music, but every night we’d get to come home to them. They’re our life now.”
“We should treat them like it,” I say, finishing his sentence. “You guys are sure? We’d be…”
“Throwing it all down the drain. But they’re worth it…”
“More than worth it,” Rad says, slamming his fist onto the table. “I’m ready to give myself over to my girl!” He grins now, joy lighting up his face. “Maybe now she’ll marry us.” He waggles his brows playfully, looking around the room.
“Maybe,” Callum chuckles with a glint in his eyes, letting me know he agrees with that sentiment.
“All right,” I say, feeling the relief of our decision lifting all the weight off my chest.
“It’ll be so weird,” Kieran says, rubbing a spot on his chest. “Not having the tours or the recording time…”
“We still can. You know? We can rent out a studio and create albums. We just won’t put on shows out of town. There are plenty of venues in town we could play at,” Callum adds.
“We could have a big ass show every year at the stadium or some shit. Like people will fly from everywhere just to come here and see us. River could be there, and Ly could get on stage with us,” Rad says with renewed energy, practically vibrating in his seat.
“This isn’t the end of anything. This is a whole new chapter in our band… Our fucking life,” Kieran says, heaving a big breath. “Once we talk to her brothers and let them know, we can talk to her about it.”
“If she finds out we’re doing this now, she’ll try to stop us,” I say with a sharp nod.
“She wouldn’t want us to give up our dreams.” Cal says.
“But we’ve already lived that part of it. Now, it’s time to live our River dream and help her raise Ly and be a fucking family,” Kieran says.
“Shh,” Rad hisses, putting a finger to his lips. “My Little Pretty Girl is stomping down the stairs,” he chuckles when the sound of heavy little footsteps stomps our way. “We’ll talk after River takes her to school. Maybe go talk to Seger and Zepp?”
We all nod in agreement.
“Slow down,” River reprimands in her motherly voice, only earning a giggle in return.
Lyric bursts into the dining room with an enormous grin, running straight toward Kieran.
“Little Blue,” he murmurs, pulling her into his lap. “Good morning.”
“Morning, Daddies,” she chirps, throwing her arms around Kieran’s neck.
“Sleep well, Little One?” I ask, grinning when she spins around and nods with an eager smile.
“I love this house,” she says, staring at Kieran’s plate with big eyes.
“Don’t worry, Little Pretty Girl. I got a plate for you,” Rad says, jumping up and heading into the kitchen with a bounce in his step. “And you too!” he shouts, pointing at River, who winces from his loud voice.
“Coffee,” River mumbles, stumbling into the dining room with a mug in her hand. She groans, taking the first drink with her eyes closed.
As she tilts her head back, I examine the remnants of Van’s handy work. A small burn sits on her jaw from the barrel of the gun being pressed into her skin too soon after firing. Bruises sit around her lips from the force of his grip.
Everything in me wishes I could erase all the pain he inflicted on her. Hell, I’d settle for going back in time and taking him out before he got to her or Lyric.
But I can’t.
So, I settle for taking her free hand and squeezing.
“Have a good sleep?”
River grins at my question, nodding. “Yes. I slept like a log.” Liar. She was up more times than I can count checking on me. Or switching beds, trying to get comfy. The bags under her eyes don’t lie. The dimmed light in her eyes doesn’t lie.
“Breakfast, my ladies,” Rad coos, setting a plate in front of River and a smaller one in front of Lyric.
“Pancakes!” Lyric celebrates with a tiny clap, digging into the food.
“She’s going to become a pancake monster,” River quips, grabbing a fork and cutting into her breakfast.
“I love pancakes, Mommy,” Lyric says through a mouthful of food.
“You sure do,” Kieran chuckles, moving her crazy hair out of the way as she eats some more pancakes and sticky syrup, getting it everywhere.
“We’re going to have to hose you down before school,” Callum chuckles, cutting a piece of pancake for her.
“No school,” she pouts, opening her mouth when Cal holds his fork in front of her lips.
“Yes, school,” I respond quickly, earning a frown.
I can tell there are more protests on the tip of her tongue, but Cal doesn’t give her a chance to speak as he feeds her with a wide smile.
This is how it should have been all along. Us. Our girl. Little Lyric. I like to imagine what it would have been like if we had stayed in Central City. If I had never betrayed River in such a big way.
Baby Lyric would have had four caring dads at her beck and call from the beginning. Night feedings. Diaper changes. Everything that comes with new babies. Kieran and I would have figured out how to handle Nigel and his demands.
It would have worked out. But I guess this is the ultimate journey we had to make. We’re fundamentally changed. For better and worse.
“All right, Little Lady. Time to get dressed for school,” River says, leaning her cheek on her palm.
“I’m sick,” Lyric says with a fake cough, pouting even more.
“Heard that one before, Little Pretty Girl. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” Rad snorts, shaking his head. “There’s five of us now.”
“Let’s not give your momma a hard time today, okay?” I ask, leaning forward and catching her eyes. “Go upstairs, get cleaned up, brush your teeth, and get dressed. I bet your friends have missed you.”
She huffs when she jumps down from Kieran’s lap and walks up the stairs, stomping the whole way.
“And you want more,” River snorts, taking another sip of her coffee.
“It’s five adults against babies. We got this, Pretty Girl. Now, go get dressed and take her to school.” Rad gets up and kisses her cheek.
“Yes, Sir,” she grumbles sarcastically, climbing to her feet and shuffling up the stairs.
“They’ve agreed to a meeting,” Kieran whispers, holding up a text exchange between him, Seger, and Zeppelin West.
“When?”
Kieran licks his lips, looking around between us. “As soon as she leaves. We’re going to tell them what we’re doing.”
Rad grins, rubbing his hands together. “I thought I’d be terrified of this… Losing our music.” He shakes his head. “But I’m excited.”
As soon as River walks out the door, we pile into my car and take off, about to decimate our careers.
But in the end…
It’ll all pay off.