Reminders about my past always drove me to drink or drugs to forget. To be back in that place would certainly fuck with my mental space. “I don’t really care about seeing people from the past. The only person that matters in Dallas is you.”
Liar.
I closed my eyes tighter to my own conscience. “Respectfully decline on my behalf.”
“Free. Come on, bro. It’s more about being a role model for those coming behind you. Oak Valley has become one of the toppublic schools in Dallas, and some of that is because people want to attend the same school as Freedom Cade.”
“I’m not a role model. Shit. Between drinking and drugging to maintain, I can’t stand up there and pretend that anyone should look up to me.”
He sighed. “I thought you stopped all that. Didn’t you go to rehab?”
My temples started to throb again at the reminder that I never went after my publicity team announced a statement that I had entered a facility after I got into a fight at an afterparty with a crazed fan. HIPAA saved me. I could pretend all I wanted that I had undergone substance abuse treatment without anyone being able to reveal that it was all a lie. How could anyone prove whether or not I lied without violating my right to privacy?
At my silence, my brother yelled, “You promised me.”
His wail exacerbated the pounding. “Damn, bruh, you’re too loud.”
“You’re hungover right now, aren’t you? Are you trying to be like our father?” He huffed.
“Don’t you ever in your life compare me to him. I may be a drunk, but I ain’t an abusive one. The only person I ever hurt is myself.” I hotly defended.
“You sure about that? You’ve been in two public fights in the last year, and you don’t think you hurt me or Granny when you refuse to come home because you stay fucked up?”
“It’s not because I don’t love you. You and Granny are my heart. It’s so damn hard.” My mother’s mother lived four hours away in Houston and, for a long time, didn’t know that my father had been a monster to my brother and me after we came to live with him following my mother’s death.
“We know that, Free. We also know you hide when you’re hurt or want to escape. If you still prefer any drug over us, thenstay gone. We’re better off remembering the fun, loving, talented Freedom.”
I partially pushed up using my satin headboard. “Wait, Peace, don’t be like that. I’m going to visit Granny in Houston after I leave Dallas. I need y’all.”
“Then act like it. Give that shit up.” He paused. “To think I was about to hook you up with Jamaica, who’s over the reunion, and you haven’t changed one little bit.”
At the mention of the woman with the prettiest doe eyes who haunted my dreams, I popped up in bed, ignoring the intensity of pain that traveled through my head and neck. “What about her? You’ve been in contact? She asked about me?”
“Nope. Not telling you. You don’t deserve me even mentioning her name.”
“Then why did you? Why bring up some woman I haven’t spoken to in years if you didn’t have a point?”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’ll see you when you get in town.”
“Hey, Peace…listen, please tell me why you brought her up after all this time?” I rubbed my left temple while I cradled the phone, awaiting his answer. “You must have heard that I agreed to let Kody build our family compound in Dallas.”
He gasped, “I didn’t. Kody? How did that happen? Thought you hated each other?”
“All in the past.” A twinge of the old anger irritated my temple. “Kody found a way to get through to me. He told me his business was struggling, and he reached out for old time’s sake. Asked if I wanted to build a studio or a business in Dallas or if he could build whatever I wanted in Nashville. Figured that I could kill two birds with one stone. Give back to my old friend and build the compound I’ve been promising you and Granny so our family will always have a home.”
“Did he tell you anything else? Like anything personally?”
“No. We haven’t spoken in years, and it was awkward as fuck. Strictly helping him out because he’d once been a friend, and from what he sent me, he’s done some nice work.”
“Before I tell you what I need to tell you, on Mama’s grave, no more drugs or alcohol?”
I groaned. “I can’t promise that while I’m on tour. It’s too hard with all the demands placed on me. Houston is my last stop. After that, I’m giving up alcohol and drugs.”
“You just said you plan to visit Granny. Don’t go see her fucked up. The last time you couldn’t stand straight. Not good enough. I’m not telling you shit about Jamaica.”
“Come on, Peace, touring is hard, but it’s where the money really is. The pressure to perform at my best, even when I’m exhausted, and my body aches. At least I’m being honest with you.”
“You mean this time?”
