Blessed Tragedy (21 page)

That bitch? Who is he talking about?

Jon staggered back a few steps as Colton pushed hard against his chest. “Now you're sticking up for her? Are you screwing her too? How do you explain this? Does it look like manipulation?” Colton held up his phone to Jon. I wished I knew what was on the screen right then.

“Man, fucking talk to her. But not tonight. Why don't you head over to the other bus, sober up and then you two can sit down when we get to Springfield tomorrow.”

Jon grabbed Colt's arm to lead him around the front of the bus. Not wanting to be led anywhere and not thinking clearly, Colton twisted out of his grasp and cocked a fist. When he swung, a more sober Jon reached for Colton's arm twisting it behind his body. “Man, you're lucky I need that hand to be intact. Otherwise I'd break it off and feed it to you right now. You're beyond fucked up. Let's go.”

“Yeah, you probably can't wait to get me out of the way, can you? Now that she's putting out, you can't wait to get a piece of it.”

And
that
was the last straw. No amount of alcohol in the world would excuse Colton making it sound like I had reduced myself to nothing more than a common band whore. As much as I wanted to play off his hurtful words, I'd learned over the years that, more often than not, alcohol brought out the thoughts people were too inhibited to voice when they were sober.

I stormed off the bus and followed Colton and Jon who were now fighting at the door of the roadies' bus.

“You know what, Colton...you just fucked up the best thing you ever would have had. Fuck you, accusing me of sleeping around. Fuck you for making it sound like you're the one who opened me up to sleeping with anything with a stiff dick. Whatever you
think
you know, you've obviously lost your damn mind.”

I hated him. Well, I really wanted to hate him. The truth was, it only hurt because I didn't hate him. I had allowed him into my heart and that was the worst mistake I'd made in recent memory.

“Rain, baby...” his slurred words made my stomach roil. Jon was right, talking while he was like this was pointless. “I didn't mean it like that...”

“Really? So what exactly does 'Now that she's putting out, you can't wait to get a piece of it' mean? Please, tell me how I'm taking that the wrong way. I'd love to hear your bullshit explanation.”

Jon moved so he was between us, ready to intervene if things went too far. “Rain, let me get him to bed. You two can talk tomorrow.”

“No Jon, we're going to talk about this. Now. How can you not be pounding the shit out of him right now? He told you he thinks we're screwing around too.”

“Because he's an idiot when he drinks. We'll probably have to remind him why we're pissed off once he sobers up,” Jon stated flatly. “Now, let me get him to bed and then you're going to come with me. I need to keep you two away from each other so you don't light a stick of dynamite under all of our asses tonight.”

“That's right, probably gonna take her—”

Jon was the one cocking back to take a swing this time. I'm not sure if Colton was shocked when Jon's fist made contact with his jaw or if he knew he deserved it but he made no move to retaliate. “Colton, shut the fuck up and get in that bus. I'm not going to sit here and listen to you talk about her that way. Go sleep it off.”

Colton rubbed his jaw, moving it from side to side to make sure it wasn't broken. His eyes fixed on a spot on the ground listening to everything Jon had to say to him. Seeing that Colton was finally calming down, I returned to our bedroom to get clothes for someone to take to the other bus. The simple action of putting the things he'd need into a small duffle bag brought me to tears. It felt like something much more ominous than a timeout for him to get the bourbon out of his system.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jon and I were walking back to the party, needing to get our minds off my apparently insanely jealous boyfriend. He'd never struck me as possessive and the realization had me wondering how much I didn't know about the man I shared a bed with.

“Sure.”

“What was on his phone?” I asked, knowing I wouldn't stop thinking about it until I knew.

“That's for him to tell you. Just not tonight.” Jon didn't look at me, making me wonder what, exactly, I was up against.

“Please, Jon. I'm asking as a friend here. He's obviously pissed about it and I'm the only one who doesn't know why.”

The thought of getting on our bus, of sleeping in the bed I'd shared with Colton since we started touring felt like a knife twisting in my heart. Knowing that, even if it was in a drunken stupor, he had so little faith in me that he accused me of sleeping with Jon killed me. And to know there was some other unknown transgression was even worse. Could we come back from this? Could he say anything to me to make it better? Could I ever trust that he had faith in us, no matter how many times he tried to tell me he was sure we'd work out?

“Hey Jon, I think I'm gonna grab Angie and take the Silverado up to Springfield tonight.” It was only about a four hour drive to our next stop and I had no desire to spend those hours on the bus. Not in the mood to deal bullshit accusations, I decided I'd ask our only female tech to ride with me. I needed someone to keep me awake and there was no chance I could be accused of screwing her.

“Probably not a bad plan. Get your stuff and hit the road. Once the coast is clear, I'll drag Colt's ass back to his bed.” The fact that Jon wasn't fighting me spoke volumes. Whatever was on Colton's phone was something major. Something that I wasn't going to be happy about. “And hey, when you get up there, get a suite so we can crash it when we get to town. I'd kill for a shower with water pressure right about now.”

Leave it to Jon to think of things like that. Our band was hanging by a thread tonight but he was still able to find the silver lining.

Chapter Seventeen

Too soon after I'd given in to sleep, the sound of fists pounding on our hotel suite door jolted me to life. Bleary eyed, I cracked the door open to see Jon, Travis, Jared and three roadies.

“What the fuck, do you guys not sleep?” I moaned. I started plotting ways to seek revenge for them waking me before the sun was up.

“Not yet, figured you shouldn't be the only one to get a real bed.” With the hot and cold reception I'd been getting from Travis since my trip to see Dad, I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

“Where's Colton?” I asked, his absence worrying me, probably more than it should.

Jon was the only person, to my knowledge, that knew what had transpired last night. “Still sleeping it off. I left him a note to tell him where we are. Do you want me to get a second suite before he gets here?”

I knew what Jon was asking but I wasn't sure of the right answer. No, I wasn't ready to face him but I knew I had to. A second suite would make it easier because I could kick everyone out but I didn't want to waste the money either.

“Where are the rest of the rooms?” I asked, knowing the road crew would all have hotel rooms for tonight as well.

“They'll be downstairs, but not until late this afternoon. He'll come to life before then.”

“No, it'll be fine. I can't hide forever.” 

Within the hour, everyone was showered and our hotel suite looked like a tragic accident with motionless bodies strewn about. Since I was obviously the only one who wasn't going to be getting any more sleep, I grabbed the keys to the Silverado and headed to the venue. If nothing else, I'd get to listen to some decent music and work on my tan.

I wasn't ready to deal with Colton yet and was happy to see he was still passed out when I stopped by the bus to throw my hair up and grab my shades and sunscreen. My luck ran out at the same time my foot hit the top stair to leave.

“Rain, is that you?” Colton's hoarse voice sent a shudder through my body.

I debated pretending like I hadn't heard him. I wanted to walk away. But no matter how much I didn't want to talk to him, the bigger part of me was desperate to know what was happening with us.

“Yeah, it's me.” I slumped onto the microfiber sofa, knowing I wasn't going anywhere for a while.

The air temporarily left my chest when Colt walked out of our bedroom. He looked like death warmed over. His blond hair was ratted, his eyes dull and outlined with dark circles. Even as upset as I was, it was impossible to not hurt for him.

“Where'd you go last night?” He asked sincerely.

“Angie and I drove up here and got the suite early,” I said, treading carefully. I wanted to see if Jon was right, if Colton had enough to drink that he didn't remember how much he hurt me. How much he hurt everyone.

“Why?” He rummaged through the cabinets trying to find the coffee.

My jaw dropped at his question. Even though I'd been prepared for him to not remember, I couldn't believe we were having this conversation.

“Can I see your phone?” It was a gamble, but I wanted to see how he would react to my request.

“Fuck, does this have to do with the picture?” He asked as if he truly believed I knew what he was talking about.

“The picture? What picture?”

Colton grabbed his phone from the bedroom and flopped onto the couch next to me, handing over his phone. “I need you to tell me it's not what I think,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. I was almost scared to look at the image once I saw the pain in his eyes.

What I saw wasn't at all what I expected. The first was a picture of me dancing with Garrett at the bar. The next was a picture of me with Garrett at the coffee shop. The last was the two of us having dinner in Lexington.

“Is this what last night was all about?” I asked in disbelief. Did he think Garrett and I were together while I was home? The thought of how much worse things would have been had I still been on the phone when he came on the bus hit hard.

“What am I supposed to think? Why didn't you tell me you and the band director spent that much time together while you were there? And why were you spending time with him at all?” Although he was calmer than last night, his tone was still accusatory.

“He was a friend of mine when we were younger. Mike invited him to the bar and we danced,” I said, showing him the first picture. “Then we went to dinner to talk about some shit that happened when I left town,” I continued, showing him the picture of us at dinner. “And the morning before I left, we met for coffee. It's something friends do when they don't see each other often.”

If I was going to have to continually justify my actions, there was no way I could stay with Colton. I had never done jealous or possessive well. He needed to understand Garrett was a friend, nothing more, and be okay with that.

“But why didn't you tell me?”

When I didn't have an answer for him, I started to wonder the same thing. Why didn't I tell him? We had always shared everything with one another. Or at least I thought we did. Knowing there were secrets between us was unsettling.

“It never really came up. And it's not like it was a big deal. Mike didn't know we'd been friends in school, so he didn't know I'd shit on Garrett when I bailed. He didn't know I'd slapped Garrett the morning of graduation because he kissed me in front of our entire graduating class, hoping I might change my mind about leaving.”

Colton turned his head to look at me for the first time since I started talking. “And that's supposed to make me feel better? Knowing that he kissed you?”

I reached for his hand. Yes, I was still pissed beyond belief, but something deep within me said this was worth fighting for, even if we were only fighting to salvage our friendship. “That was years ago. If it makes you feel better, he called me a selfish bitch later that day. And told me I was better than whatever I had convinced myself I had to run away to find. If I'd listened to him then, I wouldn't be here.”

While Colton digested the little bit I'd given him so far, I started the pot of coffee he'd abandoned. Two hours of sleep was going to make getting through the day a total bitch and I needed the caffeine.

“So, there's really nothing there?” He still sounded unsure.

“There's friendship. We've been friends since kindergarten and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel good to have him back in my life. But as a friend. That's all he'll ever be.”

In Colton's mind, that should have been the end of our fight. He came to wrap his arms around my waist and I pulled away. The truth was, we'd barely scratched the surface as far as I was concerned. We'd have to revisit the jealousy issues later, but there was no point in that if I didn't clear the air on the rest of what had happened. I wasn't ready to forgive his drunken rant.

“I'm sorry I was an ass. I should have waited.” He rubbed his temples before reaching for the Tylenol. “Fuck, maybe I should have talked to you sooner. I feel like I went a few rounds with Rocky last night.”

“No, just Jon,” I laughed. “But I'm sure he'll like the comparison.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” I could see the gears grinding in his hung over mind as he tried to remember the end of the night.

“Seriously?” I'd heard of people blacking out but never had I dealt with someone who had zero knowledge of their actions. I'm not sure if that made me feel better or worse.

“Yeah, I'm serious. Look, apparently I had more than I thought last night. I remember heading over while you and Jon were wherever you disappeared to and I remember waking up and seeing a note from Travis that you guys were at the hotel. The rest is fuzzy.” At least he had the good sense to look upset at his own admission. Unfortunately, that meant I was going to have to fill in the blanks.

His face paled when I told him about our tiff at the party. That he'd been an ass to me in front of people he respected and looked up to. When I told him he'd accused me and Jon of sleeping together, I thought he was going to vomit. It was surreal to tell him what he'd done as if he hadn't even been there.

“Wow, I fucked up.” He buried his face in his hands, rubbing hard as he processed my words. “Damn, baby. I'm sorry. Tanya told me someone sent her--”