Chapter four
Jaxon
“Didyoumakeit?”Andre asks over the speakerphone of my rented SUV.
“Pulling into Wild Bluffs now,” I reply.
“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me or Annie come along.”
“I’m going to be in and out, Andre—two weeks tops. I’ll get my dad’s farm dealt with, I’ll grab the like three things in the house I want to keep, I’ll write a song for the benefit, and then I’ll be back. I don’t need you and Annie following me around, reminding me to reconnect with my roots.”
This seemed like a much better plan a week ago when I was in my shower back in Nashville. Now, it just seems silly. There is nothing for me in this town. Just a house I hate and a farm I never want to be shackled to, somehow controlling my life all these years later.
“And what about your security team?” he asks.
“I don’t need one while I’m here. Just don’t tell Carter—you know he takes his job as my head of security very seriously.”
“That’s because it’s a serious job, Jax. You deal with stalkers regularly.”
“Which is why I flew private into Denver and then drove out here with pockets full of cash. No one can find me, even if they’re fantastic hackers.”
“Do people even take cash anymore?” Andre asks.
“I’ll be fine, Andre.”
“I think you need to have Carter get a team out there. Or let me come out. Not Annie. Her romance with Tim is budding.”
“Ah, the update I was really hoping for,” I say, turning down the long, dirt driveway to my dad’s house.
The white, two-story craftsman-style house looms ahead of me, situated on top of one of the sand bluffs the town is likely named after. The topography requires navigating two switchbacks, and I take them slowly, not giving in to the urge to fulfill my NASCAR fantasies like I did when I was seventeen and stupid.
Just one more thing my dad seemed to resent me for.
“It’s both adorable and nauseating at the same time,” Andre says, still filling me in on Annie’s love life. “And I think both Tim and I are going to gain twenty pounds with the amount of food she keeps bringing in.”
“I really do have a gift,” I say, as I park on the concrete pad in front of the garage.
“I’m not agreeing to that.”
“Worried I’ll try to play matchmaker with you next?”
“Yes,” Andre says. “And I don’t need that energy in my life right now.”
“Okay, well, I’m here. I guess…I guess I’d better go in,” I say, my heart racing with the memories that threaten to overwhelm me with their negativity.
“Good luck,” Andre replies. “Give me a call if you need anything. And don’t forget to reconnect with your roots!” Heyells the last part just as I’m hanging up, so he doesn’t catch my “Yeah, right.”
I decided coming to Wild Bluffs was something I needed to do after a call with my therapist, the one I’ve been talking to for years, and more regularly since I’ve been unable to shake this terrible case of writer’s block. Apparently, I need some kind of closure on this part of my life to help clear my emotional constipation—my words, not hers.
I will not, however, be reconnecting with anything or anyone while I’m here. Not Carter. Not Izzy. Though it would be great to get some release without her specter chiming in anytime I try to have sex.
Dr. Newsom was surprisingly unhelpful when I asked if she thought seeing Izzy while I was here would make her go away. It’s almost like she wanted me to make my own decision on the matter, which is clearlynotwhat I pay her the big bucks for.
And since I’m just going to leave again, it seems easier to just…not. Pain might make for good songs, but I’m not sure I can deal with the crushing shame I feel when I think about how I acted toward Izzy when I was eighteen and dumb.
Truly, no good can come from reconnecting with anyone. Well, it’d be fun to grab lunch or a beer with Carter. We were friends back in high school and then reconnected last year during my tour. But he’d also make me have a security team here, and they’d be in the house with me, and so I’m avoiding him too.
I shake my head, trying to focus. I have things to do, and they all require me to get out of this car and walk into that house.
