Provoke_ A Seaside Pictures Novella (Seaside Pictures #3.7) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,2

know.”

Chapter One

Braden

Present Day

5 Years Later

I drummed my fingertips against the cold granite counter and nearly jumped a foot when Drew walked into the beach house with one of our mutual rock star friends, Zane Andrews. He took one look at me and whispered, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” I answered in a clipped tone, rubbing my hands back and forth in a self-soothing motion that my therapist said would help me focus on something other than the incident.

Because that’s what we were calling it.

The Incident.

Actually, no, that’s what the superfans were calling it.

I wasn’t sure how it actually happened, but it was typical for followers to make up names for themselves. You got the Swifty’s, The Army, The Monsters… I mean, the list went on and on. And yeah, I got it. I did. It unified them like our music did to them…ergo, it was their way of connecting in a way that mattered.

And up until last year, I was completely okay with it. Until a senseless shooting ruined everything and loud noises started reminding me of gunshots. Guilt wrapped around me like a heavy, lead blanket.

“He’s shaking,” Zane pointed out like I wasn’t sitting right there on a barstool, staring out across the vast white sand beach of fucking Seaside, Oregon.

I was an hour from home, but it might as well be thousands of miles.

I’d moved my family to LA the minute I knew I couldn’t make the commute. Funny how the one place I’d escaped was the only place I could find solitude.

Seaside, Oregon.

I ran my shaking hands through my hair and tried to ignore my friends’ concerned looks. Then again, they had a reason to be worried. I’d been practicing with them for the upcoming tour, doing awesome, even thought I was over my debilitating stage fright.

And all it took to bring it all back was one of the lights falling next to me, along with a crazed fan with my name on her shirt, hiding in my dressing room.

I lost it.

Grabbed my guitar and boarded the first private plane I could to Seaside, never looking back.

That was three weeks ago.

And the tour was in sixty days.

Since then, I’d been active on my channel but that was easy, it was just me and my fans. I didn’t have to frantically search the audience for weapons because I was staring at a computer screen.

Sixty days. I reminded myself that it wasn’t just the guys’ careers hanging in the balance, it was mine too. I owed them songs, and I still owed the record company my next album. But how was I supposed to write when my mind was broken?

“Look.” Drew pulled out a barstool and sat in front of me. His tattoos looked dark against the white granite as he leaned his massive body against the counter. “If you don’t come on tour, you’ll be in breach of contract—”

I opened my mouth, only to have him raise his hand.

I jerked my head in a stiff nod.

“We don’t want that. AD2 has been dying to tour with you. Our band and you have been inseparable since you broke out on your own a few years ago. And you know Zane cries himself to sleep when you don’t sing for him.”

“One time,” Zane grumbled. “And my wife was away. I was lonely.”

“Hug a bear.” This from Drew, earning a smack from Zane. “Look, Braden, I’m not saying what happened wasn’t horrible. God knows it’s not excusable, and I totally get how things might trigger you now, like the light and shit.” He sighed. “But you need to move past it. And I think the only way for you to do that is to get back on stage and give the world hope again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, then shoved away from the chair, taking care to put most of my weight on my good leg. My limp was noticeable if I sat too long. My right leg was just tired, but it was a constant reminder of the incident.

A nagging reminder.

That I’d had everything.

And in the blink of an eye, a psycho had used my music, my concert, to rip it all away.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “It was my lyrics, guys. My pain that caused this.”

“Bullshit,” Zane swore. “You didn’t make him pick up a semi-automatic weapon, Braden. That was all him, he was insane.”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “We all have a bit of that inside, don’t we?”

“Nope.” Drew shook his head. “Not going down that path. Look, I’m