Soft Wild Ache_A Small Town Rockstar Romance Page 16

  "Beau!" Claire shrieked.

  The two me's converged and I snapped back to being just myself. A man who had to make a decision. Rachel was hurting, but Finn might actually be physically hurt. I picked up my foot and deliberately turned myself toward the car. I could make up with Rachel in the morning, but Finn needed me right now.

  Claire left her Jeep and jumped into the passenger seat of my car and I gunned it, peeling out of the parking lot and speeding across the dark roads to my parents' house. "You sure he's here?"

  "That's what Mom said." Claire stared at her phone like it might have answers. "What the hell happened? He was doing so good?"

  I shook my head, unwilling to even say it, and nudged the accelerator even higher. My tires squealed as we turned down our road and rocketed up to the front of the house. I threw it into park and Claire was out and running before I'd even turned off the engine.

  I caught up with her and then overtook her, throwing the front door open. "Mom!"

  "Up here!" came my mom's strangled reply. I took the stairs two at a time and then stopped before I tripped over her as she crouched there in the hall.

  "Oh God, what happened?" Claire choked from behind me.

  Finn was stretched out across my mom's lap. His boots stretched into the bathroom, but she had his head in her hands as she shook him again and again, "Wake up, baby boy. Wake up."

  "Did he take pills?" Claire sobbed.

  "I don't know! Wake up, Finnegan!" My mother slapped him lightly on the cheek.

  I sagged down to my knees. "Goddamnit, Finn!" I shook my brother. His head lolled to the side and I checked his pulse, then lifted his wrists. "No sign of cutting. Finn!" I smacked him so hard my mom gasped. "Goddamnit, wake the fuck up!"

  This was my fault. I had no idea what happened. I had no idea if he took pills or not because I wasn't fucking here. "Finn!" I roared, yanking him out of my mother's arms and shaking my brother. "I get it, okay? I fucking get it, I should have been here to take care of you, but don't you fucking do this!" I jammed the heel of my hand into my eye to wipe back the tears. Anger ran red hot in my veins. "Finn, wake up! Did you fucking take something?"

  Helpless with rage, I did the only thing I could think to do.

  I wiped my hand on my pant leg and then jammed my fingers right down his throat.

  My mother yelped. "What are you doing to him?" and tugged at my hand, but I barely even noticed her. "Get it out," I growled. "Come on you fucking bastard, get it out."

  "Beau, stop it!" Claire moaned as Finn retched and gagged. I ignored her and jammed my fingers farther. "Come on!" I shouted.

  Finn choked, and then vomited in one huge stream, splashing me with vomit from my shirt right down to my shoes. Frantically, I searched the foul-smelling remnants.

  There were no pills.

  I choked back the vomit that rose to my own throat, but I couldn't hold back the rage that closed around my throat. "Goddamnit!" I shouted, smacking Finn in the shoulder. He grunted and his eyelids fluttered. He was coming around and that only made me angrier. The delicate thread that had always held me back suddenly snapped. "You fucking asshole!" I raged, shaking him until his teeth clicked. "What the fuck, Finn? What the fuck!"

  "Beau!" my mother pleaded, trying to hold back my blows, but I couldn't stop. I shook and hit my brother again and again. "Beau!" Claire shouted, and she and my mother hauled me off of him.

  The minute they pulled me back, I snapped out of the unhinged rage. "Oh shit," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. The smell on my fingers was enough to make me retch again. "Oh shit, oh shit."

  My mother pulled me to her, and I buried my head against her shoulder while she shushed me. Claire clung to us both and wept.

  "Mmm-- what the hell?" Finn's groggy, slurring voice broke the spell. All three of us froze and looked at him.

  He pushed himself up on his elbows and took stock of the vomit that had soaked through his shirt. Then he looked over to the three of us and took in Claire's tears, my mother's frantic rocking, and my clenched fists. He blinked once and then understanding swept over him. "What the -- oh. Oh God. You thought -- seriously?" He yanked his shirt off over his head and tossed it away in disgust, then raked his hands through his hair before staring at us in disbelief. Staring at me. "I said," he breathed. "I would never do it again and I meant it. Yeah, I guess I might have had too much to drink and passed out, I get that." He glared right at me. "But I was fucking celebrating because I'm happy the band is going to play together again!"

  At my sharp inhale, he burst out into a rueful laugh. "Yeah, bro! That's it!" He knelt up, his knees wobbly and sniffed in disgust at the mess on the carpet. "Well, I guess you saved me a hell of a headache tomorrow so cheers for that." He turned and looked back at me and for a moment we were kids again, each other's best friends, a brain shared between two bodies. So even as he was saying something, I swore I heard another meaning to his words. "You have to stop hovering over me, man." His voice cracked, and he looked away. “I can stand on my own two feet."

  "Can you?"

  "Yes!"

  I paused and let that hang there. Because the next question was the more important one. "Do you want to?"

  He pushed himself up to his feet and for a second, he looked more scared and lost than I had ever seen him. But then he rearranged his face into its usual skeptical lines. "Uh, yeah? You've got a chick now. I'm not planning on being some sad third wheel in your life." He blinked and then looked at Mom and Claire as if he suddenly realized they were watching. He sighed heavily. "I'll go get the mop."

  "I'll get it." My mom sprang to her feet. She hurried down the stairs. Claire hovered another moment before following after her and leaving me with my brother. "You mean that?" I asked. Poking at the wound. I had to. "You think me being with Rachel makes you a third wheel?"

  Finn shrugged and wouldn't meet my eyes. "You got her, you don't need me," he mumbled.

  "Oh fuck you!" I spat. Shame and anger warred inside of me. Never in my life had I lost it like this. And never when it came to my brother. Guilt made me shout. "You know I fucking chose you over her tonight?" Panic suddenly coursed through me. "Christ, she ran off in the middle of our set and instead of following her and figuring out what was wrong, I came here to deal with your bullshit! Ah, fuck!" I shouted as I realized just what I'd done. "Fuck!"

  "I never asked you to," Finn mumbled. "You didn't have to."

  But I barely heard him as I pounded down the stairs and back out the door. I needed to get away from him and this feeling of losing control. I ran out to my car and screeched out of the driveway. Heading to Rachel. Praying I still had time to fix everything.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Beau

  The clock on the dash read a quarter past midnight. I had no idea how it was still that early. This night had already stretched on for weeks. I tugged at my beard, wondering if it had gone as white as Father Time's.

  I was pulling into Rachel's driveway when I remembered I was still covered in Finn's vomit. "Fuck it," I growled, smacking the heel of my hand into the steering wheel. I'd take a shower at her place. I'd kiss her, find out what was wrong, beg her forgiveness for not putting her first, and then hop in the shower before taking her to bed.

  I was so wrapped up in these plans that it took me a second to figure out what was wrong with Rachel's house.

  It was dark.

  Okay. It's past midnight. Maybe she's gone to sleep, I thought to myself, ignoring the way the hair on my arms had started to stand up.

  I vaulted up the rickety stairs to the sunken porch and banged on the door. "Rachel! I'm so sorry. Can I come in?" I paused and listened for any sounds of movement. "I know it's late, but I'm here now." I waited. "Rachel?"

  The only sound was the soft burble of the creek. Even the wind had gone silent, all the night creatures fast asleep. An eerie feeling swept over me again.

  I moved over to the side of the porch and jumped down. "Rachel?" The kitchen was dark, of
course. I walked around the side of the cabin, my feet crunching in the gravel the landlord had thrown down in lieu of doing any kind of landscaping. If that was the kitchen window, then over here was Everly's bedroom, shut up and dark, that was no surprise. The bathroom window was also dark, not even the nightlight Rachel left on in the outlet to cast its weak light out into the darkness.

  For some reason, this made me even more frantic than before. I sprinted to her window and sighed with relief when I saw it was left open. "Rachel?" I whispered. "I'm sorry, I know this is creepy. I just need to know you're okay. Go back to sleep."

  The wind slipped by in a sigh that sounded just like the ones she made while sleeping and for a moment I thought it was her and that I'd done it. I'd taken care of Finn and now I was here making things right with her. I'd done it.

  Then the wind kicked up at the same pitch. When I realized that was what I'd heard, I went up on my tiptoes and looked in through her window.

  By the light of the moon, I could see her bed.

  It was empty.

  I could feel each heartbeat thud loudly in my ears. Thump.... Thump.... Thump... as the realization hit me in waves. She wasn't in bed. She wasn't in bed.

  Where the fuck was she?

  I yanked my phone out of my pocket so fast I almost dropped it. With fumbling fingers, I found her number and pressed 'call,' trying to get my panicked breathing under control. As it rang in my ear, I heard a faint sound from her bedroom.

  Horrified, I let my hand fall to my side. The ringing continued. Her phone was lit up on her nightstand, the blue light illuminating the bed, the room, the house... and me.

  Everything she'd run away from.

  Everything she’d left behind.

  I was too late.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Rachel

  Morning broke, as it always did, with the smell of cows drifting through my open window. That meant they were being driven out to pasture in the watery early morning light and I gave a silent prayer of thanks that I'd been exempted from that chore and was allowed to stay in bed.

  Then I sat up in abject panic. "What the fuck!?" Morning shouldn't break with the smell of cows, it broke with the smell of coffee seconds before Beau brought it to me while I was still in bed.

  This was not my bedroom with the window that faced the creek. This was...

  This was my bedroom.

  My limbs moved with a heavy slowness like I was underwater. Deep underwater, with the pressure bearing down on my chest. I struggled to take a full breath, but the sodden humidity was already oppressive, even this early in the day. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to take deep, regular breaths. And think.

  It came back to me slowly and then all at once. Rushing from the Crown Tavern and into the night. I ran for my life like I was being pursued by predators, in a blind sprint.

  I was a full mile out of town before I realized where my feet were headed.

  My mother looked terrified when she opened the door. But then she saw me and her face melted with love. "Come in," she urged.

  I'd stepped over that threshold and looked around. "I'm home."

  "I'm glad." She embraced me once again and then held me out at arm’s length. Her lip twitched. She didn't mean for me to see it, but I did. "I have some clothes you can wear in the front bedroom."

  I looked down, instantly aware of the way my filmy blouse clung to my shape. I was wearing jeans. A woman. In pants. "Hurry," she urged, patting me once more. "Before Father wakes up."

  I found the sleeping garments just where my mother said they'd be. When I was a child, they had felt like the softest silk, but now I was only aware of the way they billowed around me. I pushed the door open to the back bedroom, where the girls slept. There were a few snorts. Miriam mumbled something and rolled over and Lydia opened her eyes. "Hi," I said, until I realized she was sleeping with her eyes open. She hadn't outgrown it yet. For some reason this made me feel... relieved.

  The bed at the far corner was stacked with old blankets in need of mending but was otherwise unoccupied. It was, after all, my bed.

  I'd thought there would be no way I would be able to fall asleep, but a six mile run through the darkness meant my body sank into that bed like it was a cloud of softness.

  Now though, I could feel every rough spun nub.

  As I sat there in my old bed, trying to make my surroundings make sense, I heard the rustling of my siblings as they began to wake. First to rise completely was Rebecca. I braced myself as she rubbed her eyes and blinked sleepily. Then she looked up.

  "Rachel."

  Immediately, everyone was awake and staring. I swallowed. "Hi."

  Rebecca pressed her lips together. Then she nodded once and then yelled at Miriam to pick up the mess she'd left in the middle of the floor.

  And the spell was broken.

  My sisters tumbled out of bed, going through their morning routine like everything was normal. I went downstairs to help Mother with the breakfast, working side by side with her in the kitchen just like always.

  "Amos is walking now?" I marveled, as the fat baby I remembered toddled into the kitchen on his fat little legs then stopped short when he saw me.

  "Amos!" I cried, kneeling down to embrace him.

  He screwed up his little face until it turned red and then burst out in angry tears. Lydia swooped in from the front room and scooped him up, glaring at me before she hustled him into the other room, shushing like the little mother she'd always been. I stood back up again. "He doesn't remember me."

  My mother smiled up from the mound of eggs she was cracking into a bowl. "He will."

  "And Lydia definitely hates me."

  Mother winced at the ugly word and mouthed a silent prayer. I felt heat rise up on my neck. I was out of practice. "She does not. She is wary."

  I nodded. Being wary of those in the secular world was something deeply ingrained. But I wasn't part of the secular world. I belonged here, right?

  A bearded man appeared in the doorway and my heart skipped a beat to think that Beau had followed me here. Until I blinked and realized he looked nothing like the man I loved.

  Had loved.

  I never told him. And then I just... left. What must he be thinking right now?

  "Rachel!" My father's booming voice brought me back to the present. He gruffly pulled me into a hug, and when he pulled back again, I caught him wiping at his eyes. "Will you come to Meeting today?"

  My tongue knotted in my mouth. Meeting - with all of the eyes of the community on me, watching for signs of corruption - seemed far beyond anything I could handle now.

  But then I looked at my mother's hopeful face and watched my little sister hoist my baby brother higher on her hip. I looked at my father and remembered how he'd been shamed at Meeting because of me. Guilt overwhelmed me, and I ducked my head. "Of course. I'm looking forward to it."

  He nodded his pleasure and then shouted for my brothers to follow him out to the fields. I fell into step with Rebecca as we took our buckets down to the water pump. Everyone in the community had to fill their buckets for their animals here, which meant that everyone who was there saw that I had returned. The news spread like wildfire and by noontime, the whole place was straining to catch a glimpse of me. I saw recognition on faces I'd forgotten about, and smiles of welcome along with wary, terse expressions of disapproval. I ducked my head down and went about all the chores I could do in my sleep. Like I'd never even left.

  Like the last two years of my life had never happened at all.

  I belonged here, I reminded myself. And even if it didn't feel like that yet, I needed to force myself to push on.

  For my family's sake.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Rachel

  Most outsiders would not recognize a Chosen Meeting House as a church. Rather than under lofty spires reaching heavenward, we met under tin roofs, in a corrugated metal box that was freezing in the wintertime and boiling in the summer. Our surroundings w
ere meant to keep us humble and serve as a reminder of how impermanent life was here on Earth.

  Already, the metal shed had started rusting in the corners. I took my place in the uncomfortable metal chairs donated by a secular man before he renounced everything to join us. I had never wondered about him until this moment, always assuming that he'd done it to redeem his sin-stained soul. But now I found myself wondering his name. What kind of life did he have before he'd joined the Chosen. And what had he left behind?

  The smell of rust hung in the humid air, as did the smells of the bodies around me as the rest of the community filed in. I tried to take shallow breaths. Were we always packed in this closely - like sardines in a can - or had I just never noticed until now? I looked over to the other row of chairs, trying to remember how many rows in total we used to pack in here. Was it always eleven? I could have sworn it was nine last I counted.

  I felt a jolt when I saw a man with dark brown hair and a beard slip into the last row, then hated myself for even looking for Beau here in this sacred place. I wrenched my eyes away from the bearded man and tried to focus on anything else.

  Sarah Hayes had a new baby, the one I remembered was now playing hide-and-seek with her skirts. I tried to take an interest in that, but it only made me feel wistful. People had been born since I had gone. And people had died too. Life had gone on without me. It didn't seem fair.

  "Have you finished your prayers?" my mother whispered, prodding me in the shoulder.

  Hastily, I turned and bowed my head, knitting my fingers together in my lap. My mother sniffed and then closed her eyes again. The irritation smoothed out of her face and was replaced by complete serenity as her lips began to move soundlessly.