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“He really shot him in the dick?” I ask, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling in my throat. It feels so damn inappropriate to want to laugh, but I can’t help it. It bubbles out of both of us as we sit embraced on my bed.
“Yeah. Give Jordy any opportunity to shoot someone where the sun don’t shine. He’ll do it. We wanted some real answers. The ones we thought died with Adrian… Who happens to be his cousin, somehow.” She shakes her head, disappointment pulling her expression down. “I’m so sorry, River. I don’t know how he eluded us for so long. All records showed Van Drake was in Europe on business… I’m so fucking sorry we brought you home without further investigation and thinking it was only Adrian. I should have smelled a setup a mile away.”
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t know. But he was Trevor here, right? He said he was Kat’s boyfriend. Jesus, how is Kat?” I swallow the razorblades in my throat, burning with every fucking swallow. This whole situation keeps getting worse and worse by the second.
“Well, she’s staying with Rocco right now. Much to his delight. He and Christian are supporting her in any way they know how. She’s shaken up. I’d be, too. The man she thought she loved was only using her for you.”
I rub my hand along my chest when she pulls away, staring me up and down.
“Well, good. I’m glad she has them. I’ll have to check in with her soon and make sure she’s okay to come back to work or take some time away from me. God, I’ll even give her a raise.”
“Well, the good news is the doc should release you soon. You’re awake and looking good.”
“Is it possible to go see, Asher? Was there much damage to him? I just can’t get the image of him lying on the ground with blood pouring out of him out of my fucking mind,” I rasp as tears burn the back of my eyes.
“He’s fine. They cleaned up the damage from the bullets to his calf and upper thigh and put him in a cast. Thankfully, it didn’t do much damage, besides the blood loss, which he’s being treated for right now. But other than that, Asher is fine. He’s been so worried about you. So, I think a reunion would do him some good. You should see Ly. She hasn’t left his side since. She really loves them… I’m so happy you gave them another chance.”
“Me too,” I murmur.
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 asnew 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?
