“Ash, Luthor, Paul… they’d tell you if they knew something, Alle. I’m sure of it.”
“And Xane?” Xane had been the first to pull away.
Ronnie twitched. Another packet of sweets succumbed to his fretfulness. “No one knows what Xane thinks. Not even Luthor.”
“I don’t give a shit what he thinks. What does he know, Ronnie? What does he know? And why the hell aren’t the rest of Black Halo asking him?”
Ronnie bit through the rest of his gummy jewellery. His eyes gleamed bright when she caught his gaze, but he looked away fast. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded. “Do you think Xane knows something?”
He shrugged.
“Come on, please.”
“I know the rest of them think he’s handling this way better than they expected.”
“Right. And?”
He gave another shrug.
“Ronnie.” She perched on the coffee table, so they were facing, knee to knee, and stole his shades from him, so he couldn’t hide from her. “He barely responds to my texts anymore. He won’t take my calls at all.”
“He’s going through a lot,” Ronnie mumbled. He pushed his sticky fingers into the corners of his eyes. “That’s not saying you aren’t, but he’s waging a court battle. To be honest, when Spook’s mentioned, that’s all he talks about, just a jumble of legalese.”
“I’d take that. It’d be something.”
She offered up her phone for Ronnie to look at. Her communications with Xane boiled down to the same three sentences endlessly repeated.
Allegra: Where is he?
Xane: Idk
Allegra: Bullshit!
This was the same man who’d put a blowtorch to his own relationship to be there when Spook needed him. She’d witnessed the aftermath. The bite marks and bruises on Xane’s body. The walkouts. He’d put Black Halo on the backburner, backed out of a string of high-profile festival gigs, and was fightingBang! Magazineand their parent group in the courts for defamation in order to clear Spook’s name.
This man. She’d not forgotten the haunted look in his eyes when he’d told her to go home when the trail went cold. Now, there was a frozen edge to him, but he’d never crumbled.
Trauma usually caused relapses. Xane freely admitted he was an addict. By rights, he ought to be in pieces. Non-functional. Instead, he was facing down the press with a sort of cold brutality that was frankly terrifying. A part of her had wondered if she ought to attend the court hearings, but listening to it all over again would only send her blood pressure sky high. The GP had already threatened her with medication if she didn’t get it under control via other means. Yoga, meditation… endless walks. There was additional risk in stepping inside the court of coming face to face with Marshall. She’d not spoken to him since he’d nuked her relationship and feared what she’d do to him if she did. The bastard had ripped her heart out.
Family weren’t supposed to do that to one another.
“He knows something. Ronnie. I’m sure of it.”
Ronnie started bouncing his knee. “Maybe,” he squeaked.
“Are you agreeing to appease me, or because you genuinely believe that?”
He wrapped his arms around his legs, but it wasn’t enough to stop his knee twitching. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I know him well enough to judge.”
“But he’s in control, right? More than anyone expects him to be.”
“Right.” He stood, reacting to something happening behind her. Alle followed his line of sight to find his manager heading towards them.
“And there I was wondering if I’d be interrupting.” Lyra waved inconsequentially at the abandoned kit. “Seems not. Makes this easier. Doubt you want an audience, but I figured you’d want to hear this.”
A tide of elation brought Alle to her feet. “Have they—?” she gasped.
“No.” Lyra replied, cutting her joy off at the legs. She turned her tablet on its side and presented them with the BBC news report. “The judge has just delivered the verdict.”
