Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
Me
Hey, Elena didn’t feel well, so I drove her home. It’s Zander BTW.
Also, I left my leather jacket. Do you mind grabbing it?
Macon
Okay. No problem. I’ll tell Marin. Why the fuck did you bring a jacket in July?
Me
’Cause it makes me look cool. Obviously.
Macon
Says the 32yo with the eyebrow piercing.
Me
Which also makes me look cool.
Macon
eye roll emoji Meet for coffee tomorrow. We haven’t had a chance to catch up. 9:30?
Me
Yeah, man. That sounds good.
I ’d had every good intention of going to that coffee shop.
I’d even driven up to the damn place.
But the second I got there, I panicked.
Maybe it had been the banter between us that reminded me just how easy I could fall back into this life.
His life.
But that was the thing. I had my own life, friends. Family.
Sweat poured down my back as the car slowed and the parking lot came into view. All I had to do was turn the wheel. My heart started to race.
I can’t do this.
I can’t say good-bye to my brother.
So, I didn’t.
I just kept driving, got on the ferry, and never looked back.
“You are a fucking coward,” I muttered under my breath as I took the exit that led to the Norfolk airport.
I’d been driving for hours without a single break, like I was punishing myself for sneaking away this morning.
I hadn’t even said good-bye to Elena.
Just a single text, after stealing her number when she let me borrow her phone.
Way to be both a jerk and a creeper at the same time, Z.
I pulled into a fast-food restaurant and parked, leaving the car idle as I let out a deep breath for probably the first time in hours.
I needed a minute before I drove into that airport.
Okay, maybe more than a minute.
A family walked past, the mother shouting ahead to watch for cars as the young girl and boy sipped from little apple juice boxes and pointed at something in the distance. Their parents smiled at each other fondly and reached out and clasped hands.
My parents had never looked at each other like that. I wasn’t even sure I had a memory of the two of them together that wasn’t coated in misery. What would Macon and I have been like if we’d had a childhood like those two kids? If our mom hadn’t died? If our dad had cared more about us than booze?
Would it have made a difference?
I looked down at my phone for the first time since I’d disembarked the ferry.
I had a few messages from Macon and one from Lance. I wasn’t ready to read the ones from Macon yet, so I skipped ahead to the one from Lance.
Lance
Call me ASAP.
That didn’t sound good.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Are you still in North Carolina?” he asked. No hello . No hey, how are you? Just straight to the point. That was how Lance rolled when he was working. He rarely let our personal relationship bleed into his role as my manager, and I respected the hell out of him for it.
“On my way to the airport,” I answered, which was technically true. He didn’t need to know that I was currently sitting in a McDonald’s parking lot, having a bit of an existential crisis as I pondered my life choices and berated myself for bailing on my brother.
“Any chance you’d want to stay for a bit longer?”
Now, that got my attention. I sat up in my seat. “Why?”
“Check your phone. I just sent you another text.”
He couldn’t just tell me?
I pulled the phone away from my ear and tapped on a celebrity news post he’d sent.
My world tilted.
Zander Tate reported to replace Mitch Zegler as lead guitarist for Manic at Midnight.
“You still there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, my voice half the volume it had been before. “I’m still here.”
“We’re trying to figure out who leaked it because there is no way it’s a credible source. We’ll get it taken down. In the meantime, I’ve talked to Ridge, the manager for Manic, and he’d like you to continue to keep a low profile.”
In Los Angeles? That was like asking a pink flamingo to hide in a herd of cattle. People there stalked celebrities for sport.
“So, I’m on house arrest.” I let out a sigh. “Do you know when the band is planning on making the announcement?”
“It sounded like they had some ideas,” he explained. “But they want to do it in person, and since a few of the guys are back home in the UK, I’m guessing a couple of weeks at least.”
God, I was going to go fucking mad if I had to hole myself up in my house for that long.
I looked down at my leather jacket spread across the passenger seat and tried not to imagine my brother sitting in that coffee shop this morning, waiting for me.
I said the words before I even had a chance to regret them. “You asked if I was still in North Carolina?”
I was technically in Virginia at the moment, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Hendrix mentioned your hometown was remote.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Ocracoke is about as remote as you can get. Doesn’t mean I won’t get recognized.” I already had after all.
“Do you want to stay?”
I thought about how I’d left things with Macon. Or how I hadn’t…
And then my mind wandered back to that darkened bedroom, the feel of Elena in my arms.
“Yeah,” I answered. “If I’m gonna be stuck somewhere for a few weeks, I’d rather it be there than cooped up inside.” Especially if these were going to be my last weeks of normalcy.
“We can have Hendrix take over your social media accounts while you’re away,” he suggested. “I’ll keep him regularly posting pics of you in LA. That way, if some Manic Fanatic spots you there?—”
“They’ll think I’m just some really good-looking doppelg?nger,” I finished for him. “You’re kind of diabolical.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” He paused, and I could hear the shift in his voice. “So, you’re gonna do it then? Go to your brother’s wedding?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, realizing this was Lance, the dad figure, asking and not Lance, the manager.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I think I at least owe him the chance to try and explain. He basically raised me.”
“You don’t owe anyone shit,” he clarified. “But if you think going back there will be good for you and your soul, then you absolutely should. Plus, Hendrix said there’s a hot roommate?”
“Oh, fuck him.” I laughed.
“Hey, I’m just looking out for you. As your manager.”
“Whatever.”
His deep, familiar chuckle filled my ear. “Let me know if you need anything. And, kid?”
“Yeah, Lance?”
“Don’t forget the NDA,” he said. “You can’t tell anyone.”
Shit. I had forgotten about that.
“Right.” I swallowed hard. “I remember.”
“You going to be okay with that? Being around your family and old friends and keeping that a secret?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “It’s only a couple of weeks. What could possibly go wrong?”
There were several things I had not considered when I made the rash decision to turn my car around and head back to Ocracoke. The first and most glaring issue was my accommodations. Elena had been okay with me sharing her space for a night.
But three weeks?
I wasn’t even sure I could handle three weeks alone with that woman. One night had been torturous. Knowing she was right down the hall, wondering what she wore to bed, picturing her in the shower?—
Fuck, maybe I should reconsider that house arrest.
Secondly, I’d packed enough clothes to last me about two days, and while I could make do and buy whatever I didn’t have, the one thing I couldn’t replace was my equipment. If I was going to be here for an extended period of time, I was going to need more than the single acoustic I’d brought along.
I had a tour to prepare for.
Thankfully, Hendrix was more than willing to take care of this problem for me.
“Dude, does this mean I get to meet your family?”
“No,” I answered when I called him to tell him about the article and the abrupt change of plans. “Just ship it to me.”
“And risk my balls when you go apeshit ’cause your Strat was scratched in transit? No fucking way. I’m hand-delivering that thing.”
“I feel like you’re just using this as an excuse.”
“Maybe.” He laughed. “But you can’t deny the thought that one of your guitar babies getting injured gives you heart palpitations.”
It did. I wasn’t gonna lie.
Some people had fur babies. I had guitars.
So, that was how Hendrix roped me into booking him a round-trip flight from Los Angeles to Norfolk, leaving in a few days. Until then, I’d just have to make do. I tried to get him in and out in a day, but he convinced me he needed more time to recharge than that. He was staying for two.
He made sure to add how excited he was to meet my “other roommate” before we hung up.
This was gonna be a nightmare.
My stomach rolled as I drove off the ferry and onto Highway 12.
The town’s welcome sign mocked me as I drove by once more.
I’d texted Macon after I boarded the ferry for the second time that day, asking him to meet me at the coffee shop. Again. I expected him to ask questions. Yell a little maybe.
Instead, he responded with:
Macon
You actually gonna show this time?
Yeah, I guessed I deserved that.
When I drove into the parking lot, he was already waiting for me. He leaned against his patrol car, both arms folded across his broad chest. I’d never seen him in uniform before.
Well, not this one at least.
He wore tan utility pants and heavy boots. A black shirt and vest with the word sheriff in bold script covered his upper body. He looked formidable, and I suddenly felt like I was twelve years old all over again.
Shutting off the engine, I stepped out of the car and walked the short distance to where he stood. The gravel crunched under my feet, and I could feel his heavy gaze every step of the way.
“You came back,” he simply stated.
“I did.”
He looked out toward the bay before turning back toward me, blowing out a breath. “I really want to fucking punch you right now.”
I rubbed the barbell in my brow before answering, “You can if it’ll make you feel better.”
He stared at me for a moment longer before pushing off his cruiser. “Come on. Let’s go get some coffee.”
Guess my face is safe for now.
I followed him, and we both made our way inside. The door chimed, and since it was late afternoon, the place was mostly empty. We both headed toward the counter and were instantly greeted by the same woman I’d run into yesterday.
Does she ever leave?
She pressed her lips together, her eyes glassy, as if the sight of us brought her to tears.
“The Green boys. Together at last,” she let out a huge sigh as she looked at Macon and then me.
I still had no fucking clue who this woman was.
Had he stumbled upon a long-lost grandmother while I was away?
I turned to Macon, who seemed to be making a concerted effort to be polite.
“Hi, Janet,” he said with a forced smile. “Can I get a black coffee with cream and two sugars? Zander?”
“What? Oh, just black for me,” I replied, enjoying the sight of Macon’s discomfort. It appeared he wasn’t chummy with everyone in town.
After last night’s party, I’d started to wonder where my burly brother had gone.
Here he is.
“I can get it,” I said, pulling out my wallet, but Macon swatted me away and threw down some cash, not bothering to ask for change. “I can afford coffee,” I said defensively as Janet handed us our cups, and we took a seat toward the back. “Despite my lack of accommodations, I do actually have my shit together.”
He gave me a withering stare, leaning back with one leg over the other. “How am I supposed to know that, Zander? I don’t know shit about you. You’ve been MIA for over ten years, and then you suddenly roll into town, and before we even have the chance to sit down for more than five minutes, you up and bail? What the fuck, man?”
I tried to gather my thoughts, the warmth of the coffee heating my hands. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t easy for me.”
“Do you think it’s easy for me?” His voice carried through the coffee shop, and he let out a sigh. “Great, just fucking great.” His eyes flew to the counter, where Janet was giving her best performance as she pretended to wipe down the pristine counters. He glared at her, and she scurried off like a little mouse.
“No,” I answered, realizing we should have done this somewhere else. No one needed to know that the Green brothers were causing drama in the coffee shop. “None of this is, but I never…” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I never wanted to come back here.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he said with a humorless laugh. “The moment I found out you’d run off with my truck on your birthday, I knew you were never coming back.”
“This was never supposed to be a reunion for me, Macon. I’ve been so mad at you for so long that I thought coming here would help me move on, but I couldn’t even do that right.” I let out an audible sigh. “You don’t know what it was like. After you left. You don’t?—”
—know because you fucking abandoned me, I wanted to say.
The words caught in my throat, and I could barely swallow. I set my coffee down on the table and leaned forward, digging my palms into my forehead.
“Then, tell me,” he said.
I shook my head.
But he persisted. “Please, Zander.”
I looked toward the door. The water from the bay winked in the distance. I didn’t know why I was resistant to divulging this information. It was why I’d hated him for so long. It should be easy to dump it back on him, right? To finally make him feel as shitty as I had.
“After you left, I thought it’d be the same, you know? And it was at first. And then, after a few months, I guess when he realized you really weren’t coming back, he got angrier. And a lot more vocal,” I finally said.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not physically at least. But he made sure I knew it was my fault that you’d left. Said I was too needy and you just couldn’t wait to get away.”
“That’s not…” He let out a sigh. “He just said that because he was pissed that I was no longer there to provide him with a steady flow of cash. He hated the fact that I could hold down a job, unlike him, but it never kept him from stealing my earnings.”
“It…” I swallowed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”
“That might be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did abandon you. I left you with a monster masquerading as our father, and for that, I’m sorry. I’ve waited a long time to tell you that.” His gaze didn’t meet mine. “I could have waited a few years before enlisting, but at the time, a few years seemed like?—”
“An eternity.”
Every day in that house had felt like a lifetime in hell.
“He eventually stopped coming home,” I told him. It was funny. Sometimes, those days felt like they were only yesterday, like the pain of his words was still so raw and real that I could barely breathe. And then there were moments when he felt so far in the past that I wondered if any of it was actually real.
But that was what the memories were for, I guessed. A reminder.
A warning.
“That was a nice change of pace,” I went on. “I had no idea where he went, and at the time, I was so relieved to be free of him that I didn’t care. I thought I’d be fine without him, but when the lights went out two weeks later and there was no food in the house, I really started to panic.”
My brother’s face looked haunted. “What about the money I sent?”
My eyes shot up to his. “What money?”
We stared at each other for a heartbeat. Then another.
Finally, he cursed, “Motherfucker.” He shook his head. “I sent money in every letter I sent you, Zander. I should have known.”
No, I should have known.
I should have known that my brother wouldn’t have left me completely stranded.
“It’s okay. I got a job. The Sutherlands hired me to work on the docks. That was a good day,” I told him, my voice thick with emotion.
Mrs. Sutherland was a lifesaver. Literally. Another week, and I wasn’t sure what I would have done. I wasn’t sure if she had seen the desperation in my eyes or heard the hunger in my belly, but she had given me a job and always happened to have “extra” food when I was around.
“It was enough until he came back. And when he did, I started stashing every penny I’d earned so I could leave.”
“Was LA always your end goal?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure that I had one, honestly. I just wanted to get as far away from him as I could, and LA was about as far as I could go without hopping on a plane.”
Every city I’d ended up in never felt right until LA. I’d settle in for a bit, find a job, and after a few months, I’d get that itch to pick up and leave again. When I finally got to the West Coast, I just knew. Maybe it really was the distance, or perhaps it was just where I was supposed to be. Either way, it had become home.
“So, are you staying for a while? Or did you forget a phone charger or something?” he asked as he nonchalantly took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, definitely the phone charger. Drove all the way back from the airport for it. Those fuckers are irreplaceable.”
He rolled his eyes. “Asshole.”
“I’ve got some time between gigs. I want to stay for a few weeks and go to your wedding, if that’s all right? I’m not saying it will fix everything, but I’d like to try. I’m sick of being so damn angry.”
He was silent for a moment before he bobbed his head up and down. “Okay, but I have one condition.”
“Sure,” I answered. “Anything.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Be my best man?”
“But your best friend—” I began to argue.
“Will understand,” he countered, leaning back in his seat, suddenly much more relaxed. “It was always the hope that you’d make it here and take his place anyway.”
“I don’t know, Macon.”
“Look,” he persisted. “I know there is still a lot we need to work through.”
That’s the understatement of the year.
We might be brothers, but we might as well be strangers at this point.
“But there is still no one else I’d rather have as my best man than my baby brother,” he said.
God, just stab me in the fucking heart, why don’t you?
“And besides”—a sly grin spread across the fucker’s face—“you said anything.”
Well, shit.
“Fine,” I relented. “But I hope you don’t expect me to plan a bachelor party in three weeks.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. Billy and Eli already have that covered. All you need to do is get fitted for a suit and walk Elena down the aisle. Oh, and make sure I don’t pass out.”
Elena was the maid of honor…
How had I forgotten that?
“So, what did you mean when you said you were between gigs?” Macon asked.
My attention turned sharply away from Elena.
Right…
Macon had no idea what I did for a living.
How did I tell him that his little brother was a…rock star?