“Hey, she got every last thing she ever wanted. If one conversation with me knocks her out of alignment, then that’s her own fault. Not mine.”
Jake didn’t have an answer for me because, ultimately, he was the one who’d sent me down this path. He’d faced the same dilemma I did once, only his conclusion had veered drastically in the other direction. He’d gotten everything he ever wanted. I’d lost everything, right down to my very identity.
Jake’s fingers, coiled into my clothing, loosened. I hadn’t realized he’d been holding me against the wall. I straightened up, and he took a step back.
“Sorry,” he said. “Had a steroid moment there.”
“I noticed.”
His stand down signaled we’d come to an impasse, and the tension between us eased. I took that moment to look him up and down, and for the first time, noticed what he was wearing. He was decked out in head-to-toe rocker apparel. Despite that being what he was, Jake had always been unassuming. On multiple occasions, I’d seen him walk through a crowd of people in jeans, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap and go completely unnoticed.
“Dude. Are those leather pants?” I asked, the slightest smile ticking up my lips.
He matched my grin. “Fuck you.”
“Hey, I’m not judging,” I said, holding up my hands. “I’ve just never seen you looking so… fancy.”
“I was on stage when I found out. Didn’t have time to change,” Jake said in defense before looking me up and down. “What’s your excuse?”
I glanced down at my mismatched ensemble, as dull and rumpled as his were crisp and smooth.
“I have none. These were the only pieces of clothing in my overflowing stack of laundry that were clean enough to make the trip to the hospital.”
“How does that not surprise me?”
We shared a quick laugh.
“Seriously, though, Rory.” A tremor of concern furrowed his brow. “You look rough.”
I was fully aware of how I presented, and dirty clothes weren’t the half of it. I hadn’t shaved or cut my hair in a long damn time. In fact, the last time I’d looked halfway presentable had been at the trial. Even then I hadn’t wanted to, trusting my rough exterior would serve as both a defense to keep people away and a cloak to mask the shame. But the prosecutors had pleaded with me to freshen up—they wanted a choir boy on the stand, not the man that innocent boy had become. In the end, I gave them what they wanted: me with a close-cropped haircut and a smooth, hairless jawline. The day the trial ended was the day I stopped trying.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been a little preoccupied with the whole starting my life over again thing. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
“Are you using your real name again?”
“Yes.”
“Is that safe?”
“At this point, I don’t really give a shit. If someone wants to take me out, more power to them.”
“That’s the spirit.” Jake grinned.
I couldn’t help but return the gesture. Jake had never been one for sympathy, and I could understand why. Anything anyone else had suffered, he’d been subjected to double or triple the pain.
“Is there anything I can do to help? Without my sister finding out?”
“No, but thanks. I know I don’t look it, but I actually have a job. Been working as an auto mechanic for a couple of years now.”
“That’s good. What about music?”
“Nah. Gave that up.”
“Why? Plenty of bands are looking. Hell, I’d replace Trent with you right now if I didn’t think he’d murder me in my sleep.”
I smiled at Jake’s joke, but we both knew I wasn’t a fair trade for his world-class drummer. “I was asked not to play by the US Marshals Service. Drumming puts a bull’s-eye on my back, and since I was supposed to be lying low…”
“Right, but you’re not lying low anymore. Isn’t that what you said?”
