53. Troy
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
Nova stops walkingon the sand near the water and squats. She turns her small yellow bucket upside down and bangs the bottom of it with her shovel. A couple of ducks quack, their bodies bobbing on the water a short distance from us.
Olivia kneels beside Nova. “That would work a lot better if you actually had sand in there, sweetheart.”
“Maybe she’s practicing to be a drummer.” I chuckle, despite being frustrated as hell after the day I’ve had. I had to ask Zara to drive Jess home after therapy this afternoon. Another client canceled his booking with my company, and I had to go deal with the fallout.
“I don’t suppose you could cover for Pushing Limits’ injured drummer so they can play at the festival after all?” I ask Nova.
She bangs the bottom of her bucket again. “I drummer.”
I laugh. “You’re a very good one.”
She beams and continues banging the bucket.
“I’m sorry about what happened with the band, Troy,” Olivia says, shoveling sand into her red bucket.
“I’m not sorry I started organizing the festival, but with everything going on, their canceling is too much. I’ll be glad once it’s over.” I crouch on the other side of Nova and begin scooping sand into my green bucket.
“I don’t know how you’re managing to stay sane with everything you’ve dumped on your shoulders.”
“I haven’t been organizing the festival on my own. I’ve had help.”
Olivia looks up from her bucket, sympathy softening her expression. “I know, but you’ve made it more personal than anyone else has. You believe if the festival fails, it means you also failed Colton. But that’s not true.”
“I failed Colton way before the festival was even a spark of an idea.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, regret and a sense of powerlessness coating them. “The festival has nothing to do with him.”
Olivia huffs a warning I’m about to be lectured. I know the sound all too well. “There are two things infinitely wrong with all of that. First. You didn’t fail Colton. He failed himself. And that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. You have to stop beating yourself up over that, Troy.”
I grunt because she’s wrong, but I do appreciate what she’s trying to do.
She gives another huff, but this one is more like a strangled groan. “You’re as pigheaded as he was. Remember how he would get all these crazy ideas when we were kids, and he refused to back down from the challenge? Always having to prove himself invincible…”
Her shoulders droop. “And then he wasn’t invincible anymore.” Her voice is a whisper, barely heard over the giggled shrieks farther along the beach from a group of little kids running in and out of the water. She shoves her plastic shovel into the sand.
My phone rings in my pocket, and for a fleeting second I’m tempted to not check who’s calling. I don’t feel like talking to another client who’s canceling because I hired Jess.
But not answering won’t change anything either. I accept the call, deciding to get it over with. Only then does it dawn on me that the area code isn’t from around here.
“Hi, Troy Carson?” a man asks from the other end. There’s something vaguely familiar about the deep cheery voice.
“Speaking.” I push to my feet.
“Hello, this is David Dixon. I spoke with Nolan about your idea, and he talked to Jared, Kirk, and Aaron. They would be happy to perform at the festival with Mason…if you can convince him to join them. He’s in LA tomorrow. The odds of convincing him might be better if you come here and talk to him in person.”
“But how will that work when they live in different cities?”
“Convince him to join them, and they’ll figure out the technicalities. If worse comes to worse, there’s always Zoom.”
“Okay, I can do that,” I say, mentally rearranging my plans for the next few days. “Thank you!” I get some more details from David and end the call.
Olivia is peering up at me, her eyebrows lifted, silently asking what that was all about.
“That was the manager for Pushing Limits.” I haven’t convinced Mason of anything yet, but that doesn’t keep me from grinning. There’s still a chance the festival won’t be a disappointing disaster.
A huge-ass smile curves across Olivia’s face. “They changed their mind about canceling?”
“Not quite. Their old drummer will be in LA tomorrow. If I can convince him to join the band for the one day, Pushing Limits will perform in the festival.”
Olivia shrieks, jumping to her feet, and hugs me. I spin her like I used to when we were younger, both of us laughing.
“That’s amazing news, Troy,” she replies as I continue swinging her in a circle.
Nova jumps to her feet and bounces like a bunny, giggling and cheering. She has no idea what the excitement is about.
“It was Jess who reminded me that Mason used to be the band’s drummer. Otherwise, I would’ve never thought to ask if he could fill in for Tomas.” I put Olivia down and pick Nova up. Laughing, I swing her around too.
“Good thing she thought of it.” The equivalent of a wide smile wraps itself around Olivia’s words.
I lower Nova to the sand. “I have so much to do before I can go,” I tell Olivia. “Like check if I can even get a flight to LA. If not, I’ll need to drive there.” If that’s the case, I’ll have to leave ASAP if I hope to make it in time. David is arranging for me to meet up with Mason late afternoon.
Nova lifts her arms up to me. “Up.”
I hoist her into the air again. She giggles some more.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Olivia says to her daughter. “Uncle Troy has to go do something very important. We’ll have to hang out with him another day.” She gathers up Nova’s beach toys, putting them in the net bag.
“I promise you as soon as I come back from LA,” I tell Nova, “we’ll fill this beach with sandcastles.”
Olivia laughs. “Be careful what you promise her. She’ll have you doing exactly that.”
“Hey, it will be worth it if I can get Mason to join the band for the festival.” Shit, how difficult is this going to be? If it were easy, the band would ask him themselves.
We return to the truck, excitement and worry wrestling in my gut. I drop Olivia and Nova off at their house and drive home. Then I spend the next hour trying to arrange a flight to LA, but everything is either booked or arrives too late for me to meet with Mason.
The only chance I have is to drive to LA, which will take thirteen hours, depending on traffic. I pack an overnight bag and call Lance.
“I need you to keep an eye on things while I’m gone for the next day or two,” I tell him after getting him up to speed. “But call me if you have any issues. I don’t expect you will since we’re framing the house.”
“Don’t worry, Boss. I have it under control. You think you can convince the old drummer to reunite with the band for the one show?”
“Hell if I know. Would help if I knew why he left the band in the first place.”
“He had an issue with alcohol and had a gambling addiction. I don’t know the full details, but it was enough for him to pull out of the band. Touring wasn’t healthy for him.”
Well, shit.My excitement deflates like a leaky balloon. No wonder the rest of the band hasn’t bothered to ask him about the festival. They already know the probable answer. “Thanks,” I tell Lance. “That’s good to know.” Damn, will this put an addict back on the path of something dangerous to him? It’s something Mason, the band, and I will need to discuss if he agrees to help out. I can’t let him play with the band if it could end up harming him and his family.
I end the call with Lance. “C’mon, Butterscotch. I have to leave for a few days, but I need to talk to Jess. You wanna stay with her while I’m away?”
I grab a quick bite and gather his supplies. The sky is still light as I pull up to Jess’s house. I’ll have a few hours of driving time before night falls, and then I’ll have to stay in a motel somewhere to rest up for the next leg of the journey.
Jess’s street is quiet, the opposite to what it was a few days ago. The protesters have clearly moved on with their lives. Thank God for that. One less thing to worry about.
I park in her driveway and kill the engine. I grab Butterscotch’s supplies from the back seat, and he follows me to the front door. I ring the doorbell.
The door opens a moment later. Jess is standing on the other side, her face pale, eyes red. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, revealing dark roots she hasn’t bleached since news of her identity was leaked. She’s wearing a navy hoodie and black yoga pants.
She steps onto the front stoop, swings the door partially closed behind her.
My phone rings. I send it to voicemail.
“What’s wrong?” If my arms weren’t so full, I’d pull Jess into them and kiss away her pain.
Her gaze drops to the dog supplies in my arms. “What’s that for?”
“I have to go to LA for a few days. I was hoping Butterscotch could stay with you while I’m gone.”
Butterscotch plonks his ass down next to me.
“LA?” Jess’s tone drips with curiosity…and something else. The something else has my heart stammering. “Why LA?”
“To see if I can convince Mason to reunite with Pushing Limits for the festival.” I have to leave soon, so I don’t have time to go into the nitty-gritty about everything their manager and Lance told me. “I couldn’t get a flight, so I have to drive there.”
She nods but doesn’t crack so much as a smile. Bailey whimpers as if reading Jess’s mood.
“What’s wrong?” I repeat, searching her expression for a clue as to what’s going on. She hasn’t even let us in yet, which isn’t like her. Usually that’s the first thing she does when I show up.
Something flickers in her expression. It’s gone before I can figure out what it was. I don’t know why, but her reaction causes my muscles to tense.
My phone rings again. I send whomever it is also to voicemail.
She draws in a breath. “I know the timing isn’t great…but…but I think we need to end things, Troy. Between us.”
Huh?I stare at her for a beat. Have I fucking gone back in time to when we had the same conversation while she was hiding Violet and Sophie here?
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, still stunned by her comment.
“I saw you and Olivia and Nova at the beach.” Every muscle in her body seems taut, like they’re on the verge of snapping.
I frown. “So? You know I hang out with Nova.” Does she think I lied about the work emergency? “Is this about me not being able to pick you up after therapy?”
“Not at all. And I know you hang out with Nova. But it made me realize…you guys are the perfect family. I’m mourning the loss of my daughter…and you…you’ve got such a great family waiting for you. Olivia. Nova.”
I try to make sense of Jess’s words. “Olivia is my friend. She’s been my best friend since she and Colton and I were kids. You know that.”
“Best friends often go on to make the best lovers,” Jess says, as if reading the quote from a goddamn romance novel.
“Olivia and I have never been lovers and never will be. It’s not that way between us.”
“Maybe it should be that way. You’re perfect together.”
Zara had warned me a few months ago that Olivia was falling in love with me. I had brushed it off as nonsense. Apparently, Zara wasn’t the only person who saw things I’d missed with my best friend.
My phone rings a third time. What the hell? I go to turn off my ringer but this time it’s Olivia who’s calling.
I answer in case it’s important. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, keeping my frustration at the situation between Jess and me out of my tone.
“Nova wanted to say good night to you. Here you go, sweetie.” The last part was clearly for her daughter.
“Hi.” Nova’s small voice has the equivalent of a big grin in it.
“Hey, princess. Have sweet dreams.” I can tell from Jess’s crestfallen expression she knows exactly who I’m talking to, and I’ve just handed her more ammunition for why we can’t be together—in her mind.
No matter what I do, I’m the bad guy.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” I tell Nova, still managing to keep the frustration in my tone at bay.
“Night-night!” She giggles and the phone goes dead.
I lower the phone to my side, my gaze not leaving Jess’s face. All that she’s thinking of is written on it. Every hurt. Every mistrust. Every lost hope.
She’s breaking up with me. Jess is actually breaking up with me. Again. The realization is a slash to the heart. Pain pumps through my body, turning everything inside me to fire, like a lit fuse.
The protesters, the death threats, clients canceling, Pushing Limits pulling out, the stress of organizing a festival, running Wilderness Warriors and a construction company, the lack of sleep lately—everything I’m dealing with comes to a full boil. Hot lava pushes through the cracked surface, erupting like Mount St. Helens and taking me down with it.
Fuck. This.
I don’t have time for this if I’m planning to save the festival. Save all those people I’m on the verge of letting down. The individuals with PTSD. Their families.
I slowly shake my head, but it’s not enough to calm me. My fists clench at my sides, and I force out a hard breath. “Fine, Jess! We’re done! I’m not doing this with you again and again. I’m tired of you constantly getting scared of what we have between us and pushing me away. You push away people who love you?—”
“I don’t push away people I love. They. Leave. Me.” A wildfire of emotions flares in her eyes.
“For God’s sake. Your parents left you. Your grandparents didn’t leave you. They died. They weren’t immortal. People die. That’s fucking life.”
Butterscotch and Bailey whimper.
I’m on a roll. My anger from when she dumped me last time never fully burned away after we got back together. “And as for your daughter, you gave her away to her uncle and aunt.”
A small gasp escapes Jess, sharp and pained, but the fire in her eyes doesn’t diminish. “She deserved to have a life filled with love and the advantages I couldn’t give her. Especially not when I was locked away.”
“I’m not blaming you for that,” I say, the heat in my tone not cooling any. “That was the right call at the time. But the guilt you’re feeling from that…the hurt you’re feeling because you’ve been pushed out of her life is making you scared of ever loving anyone again.”
“That’s not true!” But even as Jess says it, I can tell from the slight widening of her eyes that’s exactly what she thinks. It’s why she keeps pushing me away…even last time, when she used Violet and Sophie as her excuse.
“It is true, and you know it. Tell me, Jess. Before, you said you weren’t sure if you could ever have kids—is that really true? Do you plan to ever have a family? If I wanted to marry you one day, would you want to have another daughter or a son?”
She flinches and looks away.
“That’s what I thought. It’s not that you don’t want a family. It’s that you’re too scared to take a chance again with one.” I slap my hand on the front doorjamb. Jess startles.
Pain radiates through my palm. Dammit. I can’t do this anymore. “I’m done, Jess. I love you. I’ve told you that so many times, and I’ve shown you how much I love you. But I’ve had enough…had enough of trying to prove my feelings to you when it’s clearly not something you want to hear.”
And with the reality of trauma bond and her relationship with her ex, I have no idea how to navigate that land mine. I’m not even sure it’s possible.
I reverse a step. “Butterscotch, come. I’ll drop you off with Lucas and Simone.”
Jess steps forward. “Troy—” Her voice is soft.
“Forget it, Jess.”
“I was just going to say I’m sorry. I really am.” She isn’t saying she’s having second thoughts about pushing me away. She’s just sorry she’s dumping this on me at the worst possible time. “And I’ll go back to work tomorrow…at the office. You’ll need someone to keep an eye on things while you’re away…unless…unless you want to fire me.”
Her voice splinters, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. It’s not the loss of her job she’s worried about. It’s how connected all the parts of her new life are to me. Like it was with her marriage. The only difference is that asshole didn’t want her to have a job. He wanted her to be completely dependent on him.
“You can’t go back to the office,” I tell her. “We don’t know who left those threatening notes.”
“A note can’t hurt me.”
“Even if that’s true, you can’t go back to work.”
The frown lines on her face deepen, and icy-hot emotions spark in her eyes. “Why not? Are you saying you don’t want me back ’cause I’m no longer sleeping with you?”
“No. I can’t afford to lose any more clients due to people accusing me of hiring an ex-con.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I haven’t told her more clients have been canceling. I’d kept that a secret, not wanting to hurt her.
She stares at me, her mouth slack in stunned shock. “Okay, then.” Her words are spoken so softly, I barely hear them over the thrum-thrum-thrumming pulse in my ears. “Consider this my resignation.”
She withdraws into the house and shuts the door quietly in my face, but it feels like my insides have imploded.
Even if I wanted to, I don’t have time to deal with the fallout from our fight.
I need to drop Butterscotch off at Lucas’s house and drive to LA.