Authors: Meghan Quinn
He rocked her soul? That was new. She was always so harsh, so sarcastic, and a lot of the times condescending, so to hear that he actually touched her with a song he wrote was surprising.
“Can I be there with you when you tweak it?” Kaid asked, protective of his song.
“I’d like that,” Harper said, her face growing soft, confusing the hell out of him.
Turning toward the door, Harper started to leave, but turned around one more time and said, “Maisy, you look absolutely beautiful, and Kinkaid, more handsome than ever. You guys are really going to take this world by storm, that’s if you can get that third bandmate under control.”
As if Willow could hear they were talking about her, she popped through the door with her hair half undone from her ponytail, her dress was halfway hiked up, and makeup smeared down her cheeks. She looked like a drunken hot mess.
“I’m here!” she greeted everyone and then sat on the floor. “God, that vending machine out there is a real bitch. I kept pressing buttons, but it wouldn’t give me anything. Mama just wants Doritos. Doritos!” she fist pumped the air, and then flopped her arm back down.
“Christ,” Kaid mumbled, as he went over to Willow and fixed her dress, so she was no longer showing her underpants.
“I’m going to assume you have this handled?” Harper asked, while eyeing Willow.
“Always do,” Kaid said.
The look in Harper’s eye told Kaid that if he needed help, she would be there for him, which was shocking, but he was grateful, nonetheless, because sometimes, he felt like he was alone when it came to taking care of his girls. Someone to lean on would be helpful, reassuring that he didn’t have to do everything by himself.
“Good luck on Sunday, you guys. My fingers are crossed for you.”
“Thanks,” Maisy called out, while looking at Willow with concern.
Closing the door behind her, Harper left them alone with their seamstress, who didn’t speak much English, which Kaid was grateful for, because he was about to lay into Willow.
“What the hell? Willow…” Kaid shook her, but she just laughed. She was completely twisted. The little spiel he was about to give her wasn’t going to make a difference, because from the look of her disheveled appearance, there was no way in hell she would be able to remember anything he said to her.
“Where’s the liquor? I need a drink.” Willow looked around, but realized that she was in a plain room with a couple of dresses. “Ahh, crap. We have that dress fitting, don’t we?”
“Yeah, and you need to sober up to pick out your dress for Sunday,” Kaid said in between gritted teeth. “I’ll go get you coffee; don’t move, Willow.”
“God, you’re cranky.” She poked his chest and then laughed as she noticed what he was wearing. “Who ordered the nerd? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”
“Fuck you, Willow,” Kaid grumbled, as he walked out of the room and slammed the door shut. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. There was only so much he could take at times, and lately, Willow was really pushing his buttons.
Walking slowly over to the coffee pot to calm his nerves, he ran into Harper who was standing in the hallway, texting.
“Excuse me,” Kaid said, as he tried to walk past her to get to the coffee.
Harper placed her hand against Kaid’s chest to still him, but quickly removed it once she felt him take a deep breath from her touch.
“How is she?” she asked, almost concerned.
“Piss ass drunk. I’m going to take her coffee. I just need her to be able to stand for a few minutes while the seamstress works on her dress.”
“Wish I could help. I would do the dress fitting for her if our bodies were similar, but unfortunately, I don’t have the fantastic curves she does.”
Kaid looked her up and down and said, “I don’t know, I think you give her a run for her money.”
Why did he just say that? Mentally slapping himself in the head, he pushed by her and grabbed a coffee mug and filled it with coffee for Willow. He could feel Harper’s gaze on him as he filled the mug with sugar. He took his jolly ass time with stirring the sugar in the coffee, because he wasn’t quite ready to face Harper, who was still waiting for him to turn around.
With a deep breath, he turned around and said with his head down, “Let me know when you want to meet up.”
He started to walk by her, when she grabbed his arm and made him look at her. When he met her grey eyes, his stomach flipped from the beauty in her features. She truly was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever met.
“I want you to know that I may be harsh at times, and I may come off as a total bitch, but it’s because I want to get the best out of you and your bandmates. Outside of my job, I can be a decent person who actually cares about people, so if you ever need help with Willow, or Maisy for that matter, let me know. I can be there for you, Kinkaid.”
Not able to really speak, Kaid nodded his head and whispered a thank you before taking off back to the room to deal with drunken Willow. It was going to be a long fitting, but it was going to be well worth it.
**Rook**
Rook stared up at the ceiling of Landon’s room. There were little specks on the ceiling, where Rook assumed the tool bag had stuck glow in the dark stars; it was the only explanation Rook could come up with for there being marks on the ceiling in random spots.
He’d been out of his hole for a few days now, and it seemed weird to see daylight, to not breathe in the dank musk of rotten food, to actually have people to talk to. He kept to himself most of the time, but Grey and his family made it impossible for him to be alone for too long. Rook appreciated everything the Cross family did for him, but he was starting to get a little resentful because they disturbed the peace that he found when he was by himself. Being alone in his old house might not have been the kind of peace people actually consider comforting, but to Rook, it was his peace.
A knock on his door stirred him from his thoughts and he told the person on the other side to come in. Not surprising, Grey walked in while holding a clothing bag.
“Hey, bud. I brought you your tux.”
Rook hated the way Grey walked on eggshells around him; it was getting on his fucking nerves. He wasn’t a piece of glass, he wasn’t fragile, people didn’t have to treat him as if he was about to break any second, because, fuck, he was already broken.
“What the fuck is that for?” Rook asked, irritated.
“The Grammys,” Grey responded.
“Yeah, I’m not going,” Rook said, lying back down.
“How can you say that? Rook, we’ve been nominated, we have an amazing chance at winning a Grammy, a fucking Grammy. Don’t you want to be there, for the band?”
“What band?” Rook laughed. “There is no band. We’ve all gone our separate ways. Have you talked to Landon at all?”
Grey hung his head in shame and shook it no.
Laughing, Rook said, “See, you’re not even talking to your own brother, so why should I go to the Grammys and act like we all love each other when I know we’re all fucked up?”
Grey took a second to think before he answered. Rook thought Grey was just going to get up and leave, since he hadn’t responded, until he lifted his head and said, “We owe it to ourselves, Rook. We worked our asses off to get to where we are; we owe it to ourselves and our fans to be there.”
“I don’t owe anybody anything,” Rook said, as he turned and shut Grey out.
He knew he was being an ass, he knew he was being ungrateful, but there was nothing that he wanted to do in life, nothing at all. For all he knew, his life was over the minute he had to give Maisy away.
Getting the clue, Grey got up and walked out of his room, leaving the tux behind. Rook was grateful Grey dropped the topic of going to the Grammys and left, because Rook hated being a bigger ass than he needed to be to Grey. The guy was doing all he could to help him, and the sad thing was, Grey didn’t realize that Rook didn’t want his help; he didn’t need his help. All Rook wanted was to crawl back in his hole and hide.
There were too many things out in the real world that reminded him of Maisy. It was too painful to be constantly reminded about one of the biggest mistakes of his life. And the funny thing was, he was actually trying to be the bigger guy, to protect Maisy from his life, from his father and the fucking bastard decided to go and die a couple of days later. That was the joke of it all, that Rook sacrificed his entire life for nothing, for fucking nothing.
The sunlight faded away, and the night sky started to shine through the window. Minutes meshed into hours and hours faded into days; he really had no clue how long he’d been away, but he only wished he could go back.
Another knock came from his door, and Rook just mumbled for Grey to come back in.
“Rook, honey, can I talk to you?” Mrs. Cross asked in her gentle voice.
Because Rook had an extreme amount of respect for the woman, he sat up in bed and gave her all his attention. She was wearing a light pink sweater set and a pair of khaki capris and boat shoes. She was the typical mom, at least what Rook assumed was the typical mom; he really had no clue, given the piss poor example he had while growing up.
“Hi, Mrs. Cross,” he said politely.
She handed him a tray with a plate on it that had saran wrap on it, and from what he could see, the plate was full of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and broccoli. There was also a glass of water and silverware on the tray.
“Here you go, dear. I want to make sure you keep eating, even if you’re not up for having us as company at the dinner table.”
Guilt instantly flooded him as he took the tray from Mrs. Cross and set it on the nightstand. He took a deep breath and said, “It’s not that I don’t want to have you as company, Mrs. Cross. I’m very grateful for everything and your family has done for me, it’s just…” How did he explain the numbing pain he felt every day, ever since he let go of Maisy? “I’m just going through a rough time right now.”
“You miss her, don’t you?” Mrs. Cross stated, cutting straight to the point. Rook just nodded his head, not having to explain anything, because Mrs. Cross could see it all over his face. “I can’t quite say I understand what you’re going through. I don’t think anyone really can, but I can relate. If I ever had to give up one of my boys or my husband in order to keep them safe, I think I would feel just as sour and sad as you do. From what I know, you did a brave thing.”
Rook shook his head and hung it low. “I fuc…I mean, I screwed up everything. I gave up everything that’s important in my life, Mrs. Cross.”
“But, did you?” she asked, confusing him.
“I don’t get what you’re asking.”
“You have three boys who adore you, who lean on you and rely on you. They look to you for leadership, for guidance, for someone to lean on. They are as much a part of your life as Maisy was, and they deserve to keep you in their lives. You didn’t leave them; you left Maisy. Don’t let them down, Rook, they’re relying on you.”
“I’m hurting, Mrs. Cross. I can’t be the guy they want me to be.”
“And who do you want to be?” Mrs. Cross asked.
Looking out the window for a second, Rook responded, “I want to be the guy that takes care of Maisy, that loves her and makes sure she’s protected at all times.”
“Isn’t that what you are, though? You sacrificed everything you cared about; you sacrificed your love to protect her. I’m pretty sure that’s a very noble thing to do.”
“But it was pointless,” Rook argued. “The threat of my dad died a couple of days later. I let her go for nothing.”
“No, you let her go because you love her, and your dad died, Rook; you didn’t. If you sit back and allow yourself to continue to fall into this dark hole that you find so comforting, then guess who wins? Your dad. He would love to see you fail, to falter, to fall off the right track you were on. You, my boy, are full of so much strength you don’t even know you have. You are strong, smart, and kind. You are full of love, and you have an opportunity in this lifetime to rise above your demons, get your head straight, and take what you want. You want Maisy? Well, then go out and get her. You deserve to live, you deserve to love, and you deserve everything you put your mind to. You’re a beautifully damaged boy with a heart of gold. I love you, Rook, and I’ll be damned if I just sit back and watch you waste your life away. Do you hear me?”
A lone tear fell from Rook’s cheek as he took in all of Mrs. Cross’s words. Never had he had someone yell at him in a parental type way, nor had he ever had someone care about his future as much or straight up say they loved him, besides Maisy and his bandmates. The parental guidance that Rook craved his whole life was delivered to him in a sweet little blonde-haired package, wrapped up in a light pink sweater set.