Chapter 15 #2
He grimaced and turned red, acting like a little boy being scolded.
It gave a teeny bit of insight into why he acted the way he did.
He was still on that tether, being led around by his parents.
I knew that feeling, all too well, unfortunately.
Yet another brick chipped away from the wall, letting me not only hate him less but appreciate his struggles.
“Roman, stop it. Ty, honey. Are you safe?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m safe.”
“Please don’t be upset with me for asking this, but due to the way we parted, and what was going on and the promises you made, I have to ask. Are you high?”
I bristled and Vincent sneered with disgust, taking a long drag and exhaling through his nose.
He coughed and pulled at his nape, shrinking a little more. “No, no. I swear to you, ain’t touched nothing in almost a month now.”
Vincent snorted and shook his head.
“Your drug counselor said you only showed up to two therapy sessions.”
Ashamed, he shrunk inwardly and pulled at his nape. “I know, but I swear I’m okay. I haven’t even had the urge in weeks.” He lifted his chin and stared him straight in the eyes, speaking to him, as well. “You have my word, those days are over. I have too much to look forward to now.”
His brow lifted, the cherry glowing bright red with another inhale.
“I mean.” Roman’s tone was calmer now, as well. “He does sound better than he has in over a year.”
“You drinking?”
“Nope. Don’t wanna touch that, either.”
“Are we allowed to ask what caused this sudden change that you can clean up without rehab?”
“You can, but for now, I can’t give any answers. You just gotta trust me, guys.” He strolled past us to the window to look out at the back of the property.
I cringed, spotting the cracked pane. Hopefully he didn’t notice. Even if he did, he was a fast learner and knew better than to ask. Right?
“Tyler, son, this doesn’t sit well with me. You refuse to come home with us, you promise to get treatment for your addictions, and then you just completely disappear on us. This isn’t like you.”
“It wasn’t intentional, Uncle John. I promise, I didn’t just shut you guys out. I’ve been very preoccupied the last couple weeks.”
“Doing what?” the other shouted. “What is so important you would forget to check in, like you promised?”
Beaming ear to ear, he whispered, “Letta,” breathlessly.
“Who?”
“No, shit,” John muttered.
“Wait, who is Letta?”
“Letta is his high school sweetheart. He was madly in love with her, but things didn’t work out.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Is she the one all his songs are about? The girl he can’t get over?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“Oh, wow. So, wait. Are you two back together?”
Turning around, grinning foolishly, he startled as if he’d forgotten we were there. Checking his emotions, he coughed. “Uh, well, it’s complicated, but we’re trying to work things out.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Look, son, I know this is, literally, the one and only thing you’ve wanted since you were eighteen, but you couldn’t have picked up a phone and let us know what was happening? What phone are you calling from, by the way? It just came up as unknown, didn’t give a number.”
“Listen, guys. I can’t get into too many details right now, but trust me. I am safe, I am sober, and I have never been happier.”
“Why can’t you give us more details? This makes no sense,” Roman whined.
John’s voice was slightly muffled when he answered. “I think she’s married with kids. It’s kinda touchy.”
“Oh, shit, honey. You really got a sticky situation on your hands, don’t you?”
“Totally worth it. But, now you see why I kinda went off grid for a bit. I swear, I didn’t mean to worry you. I honestly just lost track of time.”
“So, what the hell do we tell the media?”
He snorted and shrugged an arm out, that palm slapping to his thigh. “At this point, I really don’t care.”
“You’re willing to risk your entire career over this woman?” Roman asked, astounded.
“Absolutely, yes. She’s worth it.”
Surprised, I blinked rapidly, my sight bouncing between him and Vincent. He had to be at least a little impressed by that.
One uncle made an exasperated sound but the other cut him off. “Look, listen. It’s fine. This won’t ruin anything, and if it does, who cares? We had a good run. At the end of the day, all that matters is our son’s happiness, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Please,” the other stressed. “Just keep in touch this time. I rather enjoy my husband being alive, without an ulcer.”
His head bobbing, he faked a chuckle. “Yeah, sure. It won’t be often until we figure something out, but I’ll touch base in about a week.”
“All right, son. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Y’all take care.”
“You, too. We love you.”
“Love you, too.” He hung up, grinning stupidly. Once more forgetting about us, he stiffened and clammed up when he met our peers. “What?”
Neither of us responded, but I’m sure he could see our disapproval. I couldn’t believe we were purposely putting our necks on the line to help Violetta run off with a fucking addict.
“You know what, before you start on me, Jackyl is the one who tracked me down after my surgery. He literally approached me one day, outside of physical therapy, and ‘gifted,’” he snarled, hooking his fingers in the air, the phone tucked to his palm.
“Some oxys because, and I quote, ‘The best way for Tiny to get over me is to not worry, so here’s a gift to relieve the pain.’”
We exchanged glimpses, my attitude fading but Vincent’s growing angrier. The tension getting too thick, I coughed and thumbed my nose, deciding to change the subject. “You won a Grammy, huh?”
A brow arched, his weight shifting to his good leg. “Nominated five times, won twice.”
“So,” Vincent hissed, lighting another cigarette. “What you’re saying is you lost three times.”
Rolling his eyes, he shoved the phone against his stomach. When he grabbed it out of reflex, he grumbled, “Un-fucking-believable,” and stomped out of the room.
I flinched at the resonating boom ringing in the air. Frowning, I took the phone from his hand and set it on the desk, getting two cigarettes and lighting them. Offering him the new one, I took the old and smashed it in the ashtray.
“If it makes you feel any better, I believe him.”
He groaned and spun around, going to the window to look outside. “Yeah, me, too.”
“Then what’s with the animosity?”
“It’s my sister, Dash!” he barked over his shoulder. “And… and this is all just a fucking nightmare, that’s what.”
I took a drag, slowly raking my sight along his wide figure. Opting for yet another subject change, I thumbed my nose and bowed my chin. “So, uh. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”
He tensed, twisting his waist to glare at me over his shoulder. “What?”
“Your birthday. It was last week. We all forgot.”
Recognition lit up his expression, his mouth opening on a silent oh.
“I know you were supposed to hit the road on a weekend trip on your bike.”
His eyelids rounded and his Adam’s apple lurched. Very slowly, he roamed his focus along me, as well…and my insides shuddered with excitement. “Uh, yeah,” he grumbled, turning to face me fully.
“Sorry you’re missing it. You’d been planning it for months.”
A shoulder rolling, he took a drag, averting his gaze. “No big deal.”
“I mean, it kinda is. It’s your birthday and you really wanted to go on that trip.”
A second time, he checked me out while pulling a long, deep breath of nicotine into his lungs. As he exhaled, he said, “Well, sometimes things change.”
“Something’s changed?” I asked, daring a step closer.
He bristled, his gaze a little frantic. “Honestly, I dunno.”
Well, that felt like a knee to the groin.
He huffed and shifted his weight to peer out the window. “Everything’s changed now, Dash. Jackyl is now our enemy and my sister and her kids are being hunted.”
“We’re all being hunted, Vin.”