“Probably. I mean, Linc’s still in critical condition. His parents probably don’t even know.”
“Would they care?”
Dom flinched at the spot-on question. “Probably not. Assholes.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s got you and your parents looking out for him. Plus the rest of the band.”
“Yeah.” Something important tugged at the corner of his mind, demanding to be acknowledged, but Dom wasn’t sure—“Fuck. Unbound.” He jackknifed into a sitting position, ice water trickling down his spine. “Goddamn fucking shitty timing. I could kill that motherfucking other driver. Damn it!”
Trey stared at him wide-eyed and openmouthed. The bedroom door swung open and his father stepped inside, because yeah, Dom had been yelling. Anger and grief took turns beating against the inside of Dom’s skull like an insistent snare drum, sharp and overpowering. Trey didn’t look away or run scared. He watched and waited and that was everything.
“We worked sohard,” Dom said. “We didn’t deserve this.”
“No, you didn’t,” Trey replied. Quietly, almost reverently. “You deserve to go up on that stage on Saturday and wow the crowd. You deserve to hear your names called on Sunday night as indie rock winners. You deserve to live your dream, Dom. So do Lincoln and Benji and Tyson.”
Dom waited for the empty sympathy, handed over by someone whose own band had just been pushed up into the competition in his place. But Trey didn’t give it. He grabbedDom’s hand and held on, as if somehow aware that by saying “I’m sorry” it would make it all about Trey, when this was about XYZ.
“I was going to play my violin.”
“You were?” Dad asked.
Dom gave him a watery smile. “Yeah. Trey and Lincoln convinced me to work it into one of our songs.”
Dad’s pride shined through in his own smile. “What song did you pick?”
“‘Disarm’ by Smashing Pumpkins.”
“You would have been spectacular,” Trey said.
Dom grunted. “So much for my big fat fuck-you to Chambers.”
Joseph Chambers had been released with two years’ probation and all kinds of requirements to his parole. Dom had used the Megan’s Law website to find out that he’d relocated to a county an hour north from where Dom had grown up. He wanted the man back behind bars or somewhere remote like Siberia. But the man was a registered sex offender, and if he got within twenty yards of Dom again, Dom had a host of people lined up to beat him to a pulp.
Two of those people were in the room with him.
“That creature doesn’t deserve any more of your energy,” Dad said.
Dom didn’t reply. He’d lost something that he’d raged against at first, and had then embraced as something heneededto do. And now he’d lost his chance.
Trey’s gaze had shifted to the side, and the tip of his tongue poked up between his lips. Thinking hard on something.
He started to ask, but his phone vibrated. Benji was calling. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” Benji sounded tired but upbeat. “Listen, my parents are taking me home. Joshua’s parents are staying and willprobably need to spend the night wherever you are. Hotels are impossible to find around here last-minute in the summer.”
“I’ll let Mrs. Sumpter know.”
“I’m coming back down tomorrow in my car. Joshua’s doing good, and they think he can be taken home as early as Friday.”
A small chunk of worry let go of his heart. “That’s excellent news. Good for him.”
“Yeah.” Benji made a sharp sound. “It sucks about Unbound, though.”
“I know. But we’re all alive, right? That’s the big thing.”
“Right. Call me when you know more about Linc, okay?”
“For sure. Take care, Benji.”
