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I’ve allowed my fears to rule my life for so long I don’t even know how to face them. And I can’t predict what will happen if I take that DNA test and finally unravel the truth. But regardless of the consequences, this can’t be about me anymore.
“He’ll never be able to turn you in himself,” Jackie tells me. “That’s not the kind of man he is. And maybe it’s not fair for me to ask this of you. If he knew that I had, he’d be upset with me. But I’m too old and too sick to beat around the bush. If you care about him, then do right by him. Don’t force him to make an impossible choice.”
I wring my hands together and nod as a tear slips down my cheek. What she’s telling me to do won’t be easy. But as I watch Madden and Zoe together, I know it’s the only thing that makes sense.
Chapter 60
Madden
—PAST—
“I need a fucking break.”
I toss my guitar aside and try to stretch, but all I manage to do is set off another spasm in my back. These episodes have been more frequent the longer we play, and it’s all we’ve been doing lately.
Kieran tosses me a concerned look as I throw back the last two pills from my prescription. It’s way too early to be out of these, and the doctors told me they won’t give me any more until my refill this time. It’s going to be a fucking problem, but right now, it’s all I can do to get through the day without wanting to put myself out of my misery.
They told me it’s common for the pain to get worse the more active I am. I’ve completed my therapy, and retired the cane, but trying to do anything without a constant reminder of the injury is damn near impossible. They’ve got me on a pain management plan, but it’s not enough. I’ve been eating pills like candy, just trying to get through my days until I run out, and then Ryan usually takes pity on me and gives me some of his. But that can only last for so long, and I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when I leave here.
“Maybe you should see about getting into a different specialist,” Kieran says.
“Yeah, I’ll look into it.”
It’s a bullshit lie, and we both know it, but I’m sick of seeing doctors. They can’t fix me, and they’ve said as much. Kieran wants to believe everything has a solution, but sometimes, there just isn’t.
“Where the hell is Ryan?” I grumble.
“He said he needed to handle some shit.” Kieran shrugs.
I collapse into the chair I’ve claimed in the communal living room, staring at the goddamn wall. I’ve been here for so long, I’m tired of the same old scenery. After the ceremony for the Purple Heart recipients, I was medically discharged and given the all clear to leave. But I stuck around while Kieran finished out his therapy.
Now the clock is winding down, and I’m facing the prospect of returning to Texas. I meant what I said to Bianca. I’m going to tell Adam, but it will be in person. It’s the least of what he deserves, and I have no intention of stopping him when he throws a few punches my way. That’s the least of what I have coming.
After that, I don’t know what will happen, but I know I sure as shit won’t be welcomed home. Despite all my grumbling, I’ve enjoyed the grueling sessions of practice our little trio has committed to every day. It’s given us something to focus on. Something to keep our minds from going to places they shouldn’t. But pretty soon, this will come to an end too. After all the time and effort we’ve put into perfecting our songs, it seems like a waste. But unlike me, Kieran and Ryan have families waiting for them. They have lives to get back to.
“You want to get out of here for a bit?” Kieran asks.
“Not really.” I lean back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling.
“I think you need to get laid,” he tells me. “Get the first one out of your system.”
“I’m good,” I mutter.
“I’m just saying you’ve been a grouchy bastard. Maybe it will help.”
“That’s just my charming personality,” I retort. “You should know that by now.”
He’s quiet for a minute, and then he steers the conversation exactly where he knows he shouldn’t. “Have you heard from her?”
“I haven’t spoken to her.”
Technically, that’s true, but Kieran’s not stupid. He’s seen my phone lighting up with text messages. She texts me every goddamn day, but I can’t bring myself to look at them.
“Well, I appreciate you waiting around here for my final stretch,” he says. “And if you want me to go back to Texas with you, I will. I can’t imagine it will be easy telling your brother.”
