Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (13 page)

“I owe
you
? Are
you kidding me? Thank you! Luke…
thank
you!”

I can tell she’s about to hug me, but thinks better of it.
I’m glad because I’m not ready for that fight again either.

“How about tonight?” I suggest.

“Wait, tonight?”

I shrug. “Sure. Let’s run it during your sound check.”

She looks ready to explode with excitement and I wish I
could capture everything about that moment. It’s an amazing feeling. We’re both
happy at the same time. Who would have thought? Two separate conversations
today, two different people,
three
grinning faces at
the end. My vortex may cause pain, but maybe it can also do something else. I
have no idea what to do with that thought.

“Just text me when you’re ready,” I say. “I’m
gonna
go grab a bite before they shut down catering.
Kenneth will flip if I miss it.”

∞∞∞

Tracing
Holland launches into the intro for “Perfect Storm,” and the crowd absolutely explodes
when I step out on stage. Holland and I exchange a grin before she makes a
dramatic show of turning the lead
mic
over to me,
complete with a playful bow.

I accept it with one of my own as she moves to another vocal
mic
without even missing a note on her guitar. We had
decided that I wouldn’t play along at tonight’s show, although we want to do an
acoustic version at a later date with both of us playing and singing. For now,
I use all my energy and star-power to boost Tracing Holland into the
stratosphere. I know this collaboration is going to be talked about, and love
that I can use my influence for her benefit.

We brought the key down so I could sing lead, and Holland’s
voice once again captivates me with its wicked tone and razor-sharp harmonies.
It’s like we’ve been singing together for years, and I’m even able to ignore
the tangible tension with Wes who’s forced to stand behind me. I know he’s
despising every minute of this, every echo of the crowd’s adulation for a duet
that should not be happening. He didn’t say a word during the sound check, and
I was certain Holland must have warned him ahead of time, only because he
didn’t punch me in the face when I showed up. Even now, I’d expected the rush
of the stage, or at the very least, a microscopic level of professionalism to
mask his hatred, but no such luck. I make a point not to turn around again
after one glimpse of his harsh glare four measures into the song.

“Luke Craven, everyone!” Holland cries into the
mic
as the final notes ring out to a symphony of wild
cheering. I give Holland a quick hug before waving to the crowd and offering a
slight bow. Then, I return the stage to her and try to think of a moment when
I’ve ever felt better about being Luke Craven.

∞∞∞

My joy
doesn’t last long. Casey and I come down off our high from the night’s performance
with an abrupt bombshell about Callie. She’s not waiting for us backstage like
usual, and I glance over at Casey who’s scanning his phone with a dark
expression.

“Shit!” he mutters.

“What is it? Where’s Callie?” I ask, my heart slamming
against my chest.

“On the bus,” Casey answers, still glaring at his phone. I
can see the fire in his
eyes,
sense the heat radiating
from him. There’s only one thing that makes him burn with that kind of fury:
righteous anger. Injury to those he loves. I draw in a deep breath.

“What happened?”

The phone is now at his ear, and he holds up a finger to
silence me for a second as he begins talking.

“Hey, Cal. Yeah, I got your messages. I saw. I know. I know,
babe, I do. We just finished up. I’ll be right there. It’s
gonna
be ok. I know. Love you. I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and meets my gaze.

“They dug up that damn grocery store story,” Casey hisses. “You
know, the lawsuit against her douchebag boss? It’s all over the place…Dammit!”

“Oh shit,” I reply, my stomach dropping. “How’s she taking
it?”

Casey shakes his head. “She’s really upset. I saw some of
the stuff they’re saying. It’s brutal, Luke,” he whispers, looking back at me.
“She doesn’t deserve this bullshit.” He runs his hand over his face. “Dammit,
this is all my fault! They’re only going after her because she’s with me.”

“Whoa, hang on,” I interrupt. “Don’t even start with that,
Case. Do you honestly think Callie would change anything that’s happened? That
she’d trade you for a little privacy? Please. That girl loves you with all her
heart, and you love her. This is nothing compared to the power of what you two
have. We knew this would happen eventually. It always does. She knew the risks.
Remember the chair mess?”

He curses again, and I know right then I’d do anything to
fix this for them.

“No, I know,” he says quietly, resignation clear in his
voice. “I just hate this. It rips my heart out to see her hurt. Especially
since you know this is only because she’s dating me.”

“Yeah, and because she’s dating you, she has an amazing
boyfriend she loves, a career, and a life most people would kill for.” I place
my hand on his shoulder and we exchange a solid glance. “Go be with her. Let me
worry about the rest.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

I suck in my breath. “I don’t know yet, but don’t worry
about it. You worry about her right now, ok?”

“Luke, what are you going to do?”

I can’t look at him. “Nothing.
There’s
still a few hours before we roll out. I’m just
gonna
go think for a second.”

I sense he’s still concerned, but lets it go. He’s more
worried about Callie, as I want him to be.

“Come back with me. I’m sure Callie would love your support
right now, too.”

I force a smile. “I’ll be there. She needs you first,
though. Go be with her. I’ll follow in a minute.”

∞∞∞

My
heart breaks even more when I board the bus. I can hear her crying in the back
lounge where she’s locked herself with Casey. My “thinking” turned out to be
less fruitful than I’d hoped, but I’m still not ready to give up. I’m not
exactly sure how to fight this, and hope something will come to me when I see
her.

I notice Eli and Sweeny are already in their bunks, no doubt
respecting Callie’s privacy by pretending to sleep. My stakes are higher,
however, and I’m not about to give her space right now. Not when she saved my
life by butting into my nightmare.

I knock on the partition and the quiet murmuring stops.
“It’s Luke. Can I come in?”

I wait for a moment, wondering if they’ll accept my role,
and am relieved when the partition opens. I’m devastated at the look on Callie’s
face, her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks just tearing at my soul.

I close the partition again and lower myself to her other
side on the couch.

“Casey told you,” she whispers.

I nod. “He did.”

I don’t ask if she’s ok. I know she’s not. I always hated
that question.

“Luke, it’s bad,” she whispers, staring at me, completely
haunted. “They’re saying we did it for the money. They’re making
him
look like the victim! It’s happening
all over again!” She presses her palms against her eyes, and Casey wraps his
arms around her. “This is why I left
Shelteron
in the
first place!”

Casey and I exchange a glance over her shoulder, and I can
feel the rage building. Casey isn’t wired for rage like I am. He’s built to be
a pillar. I’m a freaking landmine, and I know there’s no way we’re leaving
Charlotte before it explodes. I watch them in silence for a bit, my insides
shredding at Callie’s pain, but I have no idea what to say. I would do anything
to make it stop, which only fuels the wrath at how helpless I feel. I’m not
good at the talking part. I act, usually rashly, and in a way that gets me in
trouble.

But, I just can’t take it anymore. The sound of her tears is
destroying me. I have no choice.

“Let me make some calls,” I mutter, rising from the couch.

“What? What are you going to do?” Casey asks, glancing at me
in surprise.

I suck in my breath. “I don’t know. I’ll be back later.”

“Luke, what are you going to do? Where are you going?”

I can’t look at him, at either of them, as I move from the
room. “Nothing. Stop worrying. Just
gonna
get some air and make a few calls,” I lie.

I sense he knows I’m lying, but I will die before letting
him bear the burden of what I’m about to do.

“I love you, Callie,” I say gently.

She glances up and melts my heart with a weak smile through
her tears.

“I love you, too, Luke. Thank you.”

I swallow and try not to choke as I close the partition.

Richmond, Virginia

September
21

The bigger
news doesn’t break until Richmond. At least, it doesn’t hit our circle until 1:48PM
EST. I get the angry call I’d been expecting first, and have no choice but to
absorb the livid tirade from the conference room of the Label’s headquarters. They
don’t understand why I’d screw everything up after all the patience and support
they’ve shown me. Why I’d embarrass them, myself, everyone, just as we were
starting to get our groove back. They’re not going to fire me, we both know
they can’t, and I’m not sure why they even bother covering that point, except
maybe to give themselves a segue into the part where they’re extremely
disappointed and hope I understand what a grand fuck up I am.

The truth isn’t exactly an option so I take it all in silence.
Apologizing a few times, smarting from the blows I can’t defend.

The phone call is easy compared to Casey and Callie’s
reactions.

“I don’t understand! Why would you do this? Is it because of
me?” Callie cries, horrified, angry. Casey looks about the same as they
confront me outside the bus just as I’m returning from the brutal lashing by
the Label.

My stomach is already in knots and I try to brace myself,
but I’m not sure how much more I can take. I can see the disappointment on
their faces, the questions,
the
betrayal. I’d been
prepared for it
all,
just not for how much it would
hurt. I hadn’t realized I’d changed so much, that I actually cared enough about
other people for their rejection to injure me. Apparently, feelings are
actually real, and I have way more than I’d thought.

“No, of course not,” I defend. “I don’t
know. I just …” I’m not sure how to finish that sentence. I’m so tired of
lying. I’m just exhausted in general.

“So what, you decided to ‘fix it all’
by partying? By throwing everything away, all that we’ve been fighting for?”

I’ve never seen Callie so angry.

Casey looks ready to outright punch me.
“I can’t believe you! Callie needed you last night and you go out and get
wasted? What the hell is wrong with you?” Casey hisses, and I can barely
breathe.

When the news broke about my wild slipup
last night, it broke violently. Callie’s grocery assault faded almost instantly
as the photos of me partying hard at a nightclub seemed to grace every
entertainment website and news outlet known to humanity. The pictures pretty
much speak for themselves, which comes as a relief since I don’t have any other
words right now.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“You’re sorry? What do you mean you’re
sorry? Luke, stop! At least talk to us! Make us understand!” Callie calls after
me as I flee back toward the safety of the cavernous venue. There’s no way I’m
letting them trap me on the bus right now. I can hear Casey curse as I
disappear into the building.

∞∞∞

I try to avoid them all as much as possible, but apparently that
doesn’t amount to much in this latest nightmare. There’s nowhere to hide. Not
today, anyway, and it just keeps getting worse.

“The blonde on the left was cute,”
Holland quips as she passes me during my solitary journey to catering. “Not
into the games, huh? Guess that just applies to beach games.”

I glance at her briefly, my stomach
constricting in a painful ache. Holland…I hadn’t thought of her when I did it.
Dammit! My impulse doesn’t think. It just acts and leaves the consequences for
my brain to sort out. That wasn’t a problem when I didn’t have a conscience.
When I didn’t have feelings. Poor choices work fine when you’re numb. Now, it’s
crushing me.

I don’t know how to respond. There are
no words. I can’t tell her the truth. No one can know. Not yet anyway. Not
until Callie is safe. It’s too soon.

Holland’s not retreating as fast as she
should be. She’s hoping I answer her challenge. I don’t know if she wants me to
defend myself or fire back at her, but I can’t bring myself to do either.

“You know what’s funny, Luke? Since the
day we met, I thought I was on to you. I thought I saw this good in you that
you don’t seem to want to acknowledge in yourself. Even now, I can still see something
hiding in there, and yet, I’m starting to get it now. Like, really get it. It
doesn’t matter, does it? It doesn’t matter if there’s a light locked inside
somewhere, because you will never let it shine. You will never let it out and
you know it. That’s why you pushed me away, why you push everyone away. Because
that light is buried so deep, and terrifies you so much, that you’d rather just
bask in the darkness by yourself than deal with how hard it is to fight for who
you could be.”

I can’t move. I’m completely paralyzed
as I stare at her. Her words have annihilated me. Her resignation. This is it. She’s
finally giving up for good. I’ve officially lost her.

“Thanks for not sucking me into your ‘disaster,’
I guess,” she mumbles, but the pain in her expression betrays her. “I definitely
didn’t want to be ‘blonde number three’ in that photo. Kind of embarrassed I
almost was.”

I flinch, stung by the blow, but manage
to wait until she disappears to completely dissolve into the shadows. I’m no
longer worried about food. There’s no way I’d be able to eat now anyway.

∞∞∞

Despite the drama and tension behind the scenes, we put on a
good show in Richmond. We’re professionals, and I doubt there’s a single
audience member who knows how torn up I am inside. I can hide in plain sight better
than any person on this planet.

Holland and I skip the guest appearance
that night, however, which I’m
sure
makes Wes happy.
In fact, I don’t say another word to Holland after her rant and avoid her as
much as possible. I avoid all of them, which proves to be a challenge
considering our tight quarters and rigid schedule. Eli and Sweeny turn out to
be the most supportive, strangely enough, and I sense it’s because they feel
the least betrayed. My behavior was stupid, but not the personal affront it was
to the others.

Even Jesse is more reserved with me the
few times we interact, always just a polite greeting or uncomfortable smile
away from total awkwardness. He must have been starting to warm to the idea of
me as a mentor. I would have laughed at that thought a few months ago. Now it
stabs at me way more than I care to admit. Dammit. Hadn’t thought about Jesse
either. I don’t think. Or think too much, which is why things rarely work out
for me.

Ok, so what I’d done was stupid, I’m
getting that now, but I’d meant well. And it had worked. Messed up or not in
its conception, my plan had worked. Everyone is talking about me. Everyone
hates me again. Callie and her story
aren’t
even a
blip on the radar anymore. But yeah, I could have done some more strategizing,
more planning. I just hadn’t been able to bear the sight of her in pain and
knew I’d be able to handle the abuse a lot better than she could.

The plan hatched in my head the second I
saw her.
My rock, my guardian angel, cut down and broken by
the vultures.
I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, just that I
had to take the attention away from her. I had to protect her any way I could.
Casey could be her pillar of strength through the trial, but I was the one who
could make it go away. And I had to. God, my brain just stopped functioning
until it could think of a way to make her pain stop.

Then it all came crashing in a
whirlwind of twisted logic. Since the day I’d come back, everyone from the nosy
fan in line at the supermarket to the top Label Execs has been waiting for me
to screw up. Nobody except Callie, Casey, and maybe Holland, believed for a
second that I could make this
work, that
I’d truly changed.
What better way to turn the vultures back on me than give them reason to gloat
about their premonitions, their favorite rotting carcass.
Yep, there.
Told you. Fucked it up, just like we said.

And so I did. Last night I leaked a
series of old pictures to some prominent tabloids, as well as on my own
accounts, and made sure to cover my lying ass by hiding out long enough to lend
plausibility before returning to the bus. And yes, I know it’ll eventually come
out that the pictures are old, that they weren’t taken anywhere near where I
was last night, that actually we’ve seen them before. Hell, my hair isn’t even
quite right, though we can chalk that up to the hazards of unbridled revelry; and
those girls, while I’m sure they’d love another night out with me, know they
didn’t get one. But by the time everyone figures that out, no one will be
talking about Callie anymore, only wondering why the hell I’d do something like
that. I didn’t think it would matter so much, that the lie would hurt like it
does, but it’s too late. I did it, and now I have to live with the fact that
everyone thinks I am the man I’m fighting so hard not to be.

In an impulsive reaction to protect
someone I loved, I fell on my sword. And now, now I’m permanently impaled
because I can’t let the truth burden them with an ounce of responsibility. I
definitely don’t want them putting themselves back in the spotlight in an
attempt to fix my ill-conceived mess. I don’t know what story I’ll use to
explain it away when the truth comes out, especially since right now it’s just jumbled
chaos in my head. I make bad choices, it’s what I do, but the thing is, I can’t
get a handle on whether this was a bad one or not. I feel this strange mix of
regret, relief, and sadness, and I have no idea how to process it all.

I can’t even decide if I love or hate
myself right now. I just know it’s done, and now I’m standing at the edge, staring
down into the latest grave I’ve dug for myself.
Luke the
Dandelion.
Luke the Train-Wreck.
Luke the Liar.
Luke the Gravedigger.
I’m a freaking Halloween parade.

∞∞∞

I see I
missed a call from Dr. Flynn and sigh in resignation. I know what she wants. She’s
got a TV and
internet
connection just like everyone
else. I close my eyes and shove my phone back in my
pocket,
relieved there’s no way I can call her back and have that conversation on the
bus anyway. She’ll just have to wait until we get to Baltimore.