by the shirt and flung him through our kitchen, then hurled himself over top of him.
Adela screamed. “Oh, God!”
The rest of the band arrived then, but it was too late. Everett had landed two punches to Hendrix’s jaw before he was flipped, and Hendrix landed blows to Everett’s mouth and cheekbone.
“Leave you guys alone for two minutes and then we’re racing through some kitschy looking town like a bunch of fucking psychopaths,” Graham muttered as he and Dale pulled Hendrix off Everett and tossed him to the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” Dale asked, shoving Hendrix back when he tried to make a move for Everett, who remained on the floor, groaning.
I ran to the freezer to grab some ice and wrapped it in a dish towel, then crouched down beside him to press it to his cheek.
“He was fucking my sister. That’s what’s going on.”
Everett groaned again, pushing my hand away.
“You’re shitting me,” Graham said, turning to me. “Little sis?”
Ignoring them, I tried again to hold the ice over Everett’s cheek. He allowed it this time, squinting up at me.
I brushed some hair off his face, and Hendrix scoffed. “Unbelievable. Look at this shit. She worships him, and he’s out there acting like she doesn’t exist night after night.”
My hand fell away at the reminder, lips and heart pinching.
“Hendrix,” Dale said. “Tone it down.”
“Get fucked, Dale.”
“Little sis,” Graham said, still sounding perplexed. “But I always thought if any of us could win her heart, it’d be me.”
“Win her heart? What are you, a fucking poet?” Hendrix said, spitting blood onto his hand and frowning at it.
“I’m a rock star. Close enough.”
Hendrix rolled his neck, muttering a slew of curses.
Everett was still staring at me when I shifted the ice to his busted lip. “Not worthy,” he whispered, so quiet that no one else could hear.
My head shook, and Hendrix groaned, clearly watching us again. “Fuck this, I’m out. Some best friend you are, you giant fucking asshole.”
The door slammed, and Dale and Graham stood there a moment, unsure what to do.
Adela entered the room with a glass of water, and then the guys snapped into action and helped me lift Everett to sit as Adela handed me the water.
He took slow sips, wincing as it hit the cut on his lip. “At least that’s over with.”
Dale snorted. “Ha-ha. Not by a long shot, buddy.”
Everett swayed, about to lie back down when the guys swooped in. “Come on,” Graham said. “Back to the bus for you.”
I was about to offer that he could stay here, but judging by the look Dale sent me when I opened my mouth, I knew it’d be a terrible idea.
“They need to hash it out,” Adela said as we watched them head down the stairs outside. Everett was propped between Dale and Graham with his arms slung over their shoulders. “Having him hide away will only cause more tension. They’re a team. The quicker they have it out, the quicker they can hopefully move on.”
Though I wanted to, I wasn’t sure if I believed her.
Thoughts of Everett, how drunk he’d been, and how much he hadn’t seemed to care about any repercussions haunted me until I finally fell asleep.
Aiden’s crooked smile floating behind my lids had me waking early with an aching chest in the cocoon I’d made of my bedding.
He’d just told me about his mom and how she’d died, then minutes later, watched me race down the street toward another man. The same man who was holding me back from him.
When you want something bad enough, it was too easy to justify all the ways in which you’re right, and everything else is wrong.
A steady ache pressed behind my eyes, a fitting companion for the one growing inside my chest.
I could hear Adela moving around the house, getting ready for work at the small cinema in the middle of town.
Eventually, I dragged myself to the shower, then downed two cups of tea as I sat at the kitchen counter, trying to call my brother. His voicemail greeted me five times before I finally gave up and decided on a different tactic.
The sun was bright beneath clouds that tried to smother it, the town of Raslow coming alive as it did every Saturday morning. Families crowded the streets, heading to street vendors, cafés, and the fruit and flower markets.
In the gravel lot behind the bar sat the bus that’d carried my heart away from me and sent us both down different paths.
The paint