I swallow and flick my gaze away.
“I appreciate that. I do. I’d much rather it was you than some other asshole. You’ll do fucking great, and I like not having to worry about the replacement trying to oust me for good. I’m fucking back next year. I’ve got some new material I’ve been working on—it’s fuckin’ sweet.”
She lets out a sigh of relief and flashes me a big smile. “I can’t wait to hear it …” She pauses and stares out over the balcony for a few moments. “Vandal, don’t hate Ash so much. He’s got a lot on his plate and the band is his baby. It’s all he’s got right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I don’t want to think about Asher and his problems. I have my own and his could be much worse. “You gonna be okay jumping into another tour so soon? With new material?”
“Fuck yeah. I got this.”
I push myself away from the wooden railing. “I better get going, I have to ride back up to the lake.”
She stands and walks with me into the house, putting her hand on my back before we reach the front door.
“You could stay,” she hints, her voice sultry. “It’s been a while.”
Measuring my control, I sigh and turn to face her. “We shouldn’t, Syd. Let’s not complicate shit.” I pause and decide to tell her the truth. “Plus, I kinda got someone waiting at home for me.”
Surprise and disappointment dance across her face. “You? Really?”
“It’s still new. We’re trying to figure it out.”
“I think that’s great, Vandal. I really do. You deserve some happiness.”
“No, I really fucking don’t, Syd. I’m a douche.”
She looks me in the eye and shakes her head defiantly. “I’ve known you for a long time. You’re difficult, and you’re fucked up, but you deserve to be happy. Maybe I’ll get to meet her someday?”
Fear courses through me like acid in my veins. “I don’t know. I got a lot of shit to figure out.”
She leans against the doorframe and opens the door for me. “Be good, buddy. Stay in touch, and don’t worry. I’ll make you proud standing in for you.”
“I know you will.”
Tabitha
As soon as he’s gone I run the to the guest room like a little kid and open the door, my insides jittery with anticipation of what could be waiting for me. On the middle of the bed are two boxes, one medium and one big, each wrapped in purple matte paper with a big black bow, and a brown suede journal. I’m not sure what to go to first, but curiosity makes me pick up the journal. I sit on the bed and open it to find handwriting on the first page in calligraphy-style writing.
Tabitha,