Rhythm of Us: Book 2 Of The Fated Hearts Series (26 page)

“Van is good people,” I told him after I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Jesus, I wish I had kept my mouth shut.”

“Nonsense.” Ben tugged on my hand until I leaned over the table and met him halfway for a brief kiss. “It’s all in the past. Yes, my parents were - and still are - a negative influence in my life, but I’ve moved beyond it. I refuse to be jaded by their misery for another second longer.”

“What are your plans for the day?” I wasn’t sure why I asked, except that I wasn’t ready for our time together to come to an end.

“Um, just a bit of laundry. Do you have something in mind?”

The doorbell rang before I could answer his question. “Be right back,” I tossed over my shoulder.

Bevan stood on the front porch looking drained and uncomfortable. “I tried calling your cellphone, but it went straight to voicemail. I stopped by your sister’s house and she told me I could find you here.”

“I forgot to plug my phone in last night and it must have died. I’m sorry you had to go to so much trouble. Come on in.” I stepped aside so he could enter. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach at Van’s stiff posture and serious expression on his face. It felt like he had bad news for me and I was instantly worried that something horrible had happened to Deacon.

“I see that Ben is also here and I’m not sure you want me to . . .”

“Hey, Van. What are you doing here?” Ben had snuck up behind me like he was known to do.

“I came to talk to Xavier, but I’m thinking that now is not a good time.”

“Xavier?” Ben looked between us and then must have remembered the conversation from the stakeout when I asked Bevan if he could help me locate my friend. I never told Ben that I hired his brother for that and to help with my contract. Suddenly, it felt like I had gone behind his back, which was ridiculous.

“I hired Bevan to look for Deacon and to assist me with the contract like you recommended. He has already handled the latter so I’m guessing he’s here about the former.” I looked at Bevan and he nodded that I was correct. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Ben. I have nothing to hide.”

Ben placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, because it was obvious that Bevan was uncomfortable about the news he had to deliver and hesitant to do so in front of Ben. If something bad did happen to Deacon then I definitely wanted Ben to be here with me.

“Come in,” I told Bevan again.

He entered the house reluctantly, but sniffed the air appreciatively. “Do I smell coffee?”

“You do,” I answered. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll pour you a cup. Are you hungry? Ben made a fantastic breakfast and there’s plenty.” I was nervous and I rambled when I got nervous. I looked behind me and saw the St. Claire brothers exchange a look and a half smile. It seemed that they found my rambling amusing, but I didn’t hold that against them. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black like Ben’s undies,” Bevan answered. He raised a brow at Ben’s nearly nude appearance but didn’t say anything else.

I poured him a cup of coffee and we all settled around the table. Bevan declined food and I was too nervous to resume eating. I sat quietly waiting for Bevan to tell me what he learned and each second felt like an eternity.

“Do you know anything about Deacon Bradley’s life before he came to work as security for the band?”

“I honestly don’t,” I replied. “Deacon was very quiet and private. He didn’t have a whole lot to say.”

“What kinds of things did you talk about? You said you were friends and they usually talk to one another. How close of a friend was Deacon?”

I blew out a frustrated breath, because I didn’t understand his line of questioning. It almost felt like I was being accused of something and it made me very uncomfortable. “We talked about music and sports when we talked at all. I considered him my friend not because of the conversations we had, but because of the way he shielded me from Damien when he was at his ugliest. I don’t understand what information you’re trying to get out of me, Bevan. I told you everything I knew about Deacon when I hired you to help me find him. Has something bad happened to him?”

“The Deacon Bradley you know doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t understand.” What the hell did Bevan mean by that?

“Van, what’s with all the subterfuge? Just tell Xavier what he needs to know.” Ben sounded as frustrated as I felt.

“Deacon Bradley is really Mark Bradley, who was a highly decorated sniper in the Marine Corp. His men gave him the nickname Deacon because his words were like gospel when going into battle. After he retired from the Corp, he started working for a private security detail. Which is how he met you, Xavier.” Bevan’s deep sigh and expression told me I wasn’t going to like what else he had to say. “He is currently wanted for questioning by LAPD in a murder case.”

“Murder? Holy fuck!” I was stunned.
Deacon was suspected of murder?
I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Yes, murder. His bloody fingerprints were found all over the crime scene. He’s vanished without a trace and I’m not sure if he had help from the military, because they don’t want the reputation of their decorated war hero tarnished, or he’s just gone off the grid.”

This was too much for me to take in. I must have looked like a fish with my mouth gaping open then closing as I tried to formulate words. My brain was firing too many questions at once, threatening to short circuit and blow a fuse; I could almost smell the smoke. Ben reached over and took my hand and gave it a squeeze to remind me of his presence; I clung to it like a lifeline.

“I was unable to dig deeper and get more information about him, because I don’t have the proper security clearance. Yes, I could’ve obtained the information, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night for fear someone would slit my throat in my sleep.” Bevan paused again and I braced myself. “There’s more.”

“Of course there’s more.” It wasn’t fair that I used such a sarcastic tone with Bevan. He wasn’t my enemy and he only did what I had asked him to do. “Sorry, Bevan.”

“Deacon is suspected of killing Erik Schafnitz, whom you know as Damien Diamond.”

“Oh my god.” I felt like a bomb had detonated in my brain and all my blood leached from my body, leaving me cold to the bone.

“Doesn’t anyone use their own names anymore?” Ben asked.

“H-h-how did it happen?” I ignored Ben’s question, too afraid of Van’s answer.

“Erik Schafnitz aka Damien Diamond was brutally beaten before he was shot point blank in the face. The authorities think that Deacon Bradley killed him after he attacked you.”

I inhaled air so fast into my lungs that it choked me. Bevan got up and filled a glass of water for me while Ben reached over and rubbed my back in soothing circles while I worked through my coughing fit. I sipped the cold water for a few minutes to soothe my raw throat.

“Jesus, Bevan, try for some fucking tact next time!” Ben’s outrage on my behalf helped to assuage my shattered mind.

“The perpetrator was obviously looking for something, because the entire apartment was tossed and Deacon’s fingerprints were everywhere. The police found evidence that Damien had been taking pictures of people in compromising situations and using them as blackmail so the suspect pool is very large, but Deacon is the only one directly tied to the crime scene.”

Damien was dead! Deacon murdered him because of me. If I had been stronger and stayed away from LA then Damien would be alive and Deacon wouldn’t have his blood on his hands. I closed my eyes to block out the pitying looks on Bevan and Ben’s faces. My lungs started to seize up as panic gripped me. I let go of Ben’s hand and wrapped my arms around myself and began to rock back and forth.

“My fault. All of it.” I didn’t recognize the desolate voice as my own. “Damien was an absolute slime, but nobody deserves to die like that. Deacon is a g-good man and I’ve ruined his life.” The St. Claire’s began speaking at the same time, trying to calm me down and assure me that none of it was my fault, but I knew better. I did this. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself.

“Xavier, this isn’t your fault. To be honest, it was only a matter of time before someone shot Erik. He was bound to pick the wrong person to blackmail and pay the ultimate price.”

“Van.” Ben practically growled his brother’s name before he focused his attention back on me. “Babe, look at me please. Don’t do this to yourself, Xavier.” I heard the fear in his voice that I might relapse and he had every right to be fearful. I never wanted to get high as much as I did right then.

“I, uh, I just need some time to myself to grasp everything you told me.” I rose from my seat without looking at either of them. “I’m just going to change my clothes and go for a run. It always helps center me.” I gripped my hands together so they couldn’t see how badly they were shaking.

“I’ll go with you,” Ben offered.

“No!” I finally looked at Ben and saw how my harsh rejection hurt him. I softened my voice and said, “Thank you for the offer, but I really need to be by myself while I work this out. You just go ahead with whatever plans you had and I’ll call you later.”

I didn’t wait around for his response. I ran up the stairs, changed into my running gear, and left the house without a goodbye to either of them. I had hoped that I could run off my demons like I had in the past, but it was wishful thinking. Guilt, regret, and self-loathing followed behind and nipped at my heels, threatening to suck me into a dark abyss of despair that I knew I’d never recover from. The only thing I could do was run faster and hope to outrun it.

I DIDN’T HEAR
from Xavier for a week after he stormed out of Chase and Gray’s house to jog after learning about Damien’s death and Deacon’s suspected involvement in it. I sat in the kitchen in a stunned stupor and stared at my brother. I wondered if I looked as utterly helpless as I felt.

“
What are you going to do?” Bevan had asked me.

I shrugged as if I didn’t have a care in the world. “What can I do, but wait for him to call me?”

“That’s it?” Bevan seemed disappointed in my answer, but I didn’t know what else I could do.

“That’s it.”

Seven long and torturous days passed with no word from Xavier. I had sent him two texts and left one voicemail message for him; all of them went unanswered. On the seventh day, I realized that whatever I had hoped for us would not transpire; the tentative relationship we had started to build was over. I just hoped that at some point I could look back on the one special night we shared with fond memories and not the resentment that had begun to brew.

I understood that Xavier needed time to regroup and come to terms with what he learned about his ex-manager and his friend. I wasn’t an insensitive bastard who only cared about myself. But, what I couldn’t comprehend was the selfish behavior that made Xavier think it was okay to ignore me when it was so obvious in my messages that I was worried about him. How fucking hard would it have been to send me one short text to let me know that he was okay and hadn’t regressed?

None of it mattered any longer. I was done! Relationships weren’t for the St. Claire’s; I’d known it my entire life, but when it came to Xavier I wanted to believe differently. My family was only good at fucking and it was time I remembered that and gave up my pie-in-the-sky hopes that I’d be any different than them.

Needless to say, I was in a real shitty mood when I picked Beverly up for the charity dinner like the dutiful son I was - that she neither wanted nor deserved. Surprise of all surprises, she actually seemed glad to see me, which made me suspicious right from the start. Beverly didn’t care about anything but herself therefore my required presence meant she was up to something. I couldn’t dig up the gumption to care at that particular moment. I tuned her out when she started up a steady stream of mindless chatter until we arrived at the convention center.

“Your morose attitude is both unwelcome and intolerable, Bennett.” Beverly’s narrowed eyes and pinched mouth hardly registered on my Give-A-Shit meter. “Snap out of your mood! It’s no wonder you haven’t landed a husband. Your people can marry in every state now. What’s your holdup?”