Wicked Reunion (Wicked White Series Book 2) (10 page)

NOW

JARED

I
’m still standing there in shock. I can’t believe that asshole just flipped us off and then stormed off the stage like that. Ace is one selfish bastard to leave us to deal with the aftermath of an angry sold-out crowd who obviously will not be getting the show that they paid for.

There’s no other choice but to cut the music and follow Ace’s lead off the stage. Luke and Tyler take off first, while I’m right on their heels. The fans at Summerfest instantly boo. I turn back and watch as our instruments get pounded with half-empty beer bottles and anything else the people can find to throw onto the stage to show their protest.

“Fuck,” Luke says, standing next to me. “They’re pissed.”

“Wouldn’t you be? I mean, shit, they paid for a show, and we just walked off stage,” Tyler adds.

“What choice did that asshole give us? I mean, who does that?” Luke’s face is just as red as his hair.

We stand there, completely unsure of what to do next. I’ve never had anything like this happen before. Hopefully Jane Ann has tracked Ace down and talked some sense into that moron. He needs to get his stupid ass back on this stage before these people riot and tear this place apart.

After close to twenty minutes since Ace’s Houdini act, Tyler looks to me. “Do you think he’s coming back?”

I shrug. “I have no idea, but I still expect to get paid for this show. I showed up. It’s not my fault Ace picked now to be a fucking diva.”

No sooner do the words leave my lips than Jane Ann shows up without Ace. Her red hair is frizzy and completely disheveled. I can tell by the wild look in her blue eyes that she’s losing her shit right now.

I straighten my back. “I’m going to guess that Ace told you to piss off.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “It seems that Ace will not be doing the show tonight.”

“Thanks for that one, Captain Obvious,” Luke spouts off. “Does he plan on making the next show tomorrow night?”

Jane Ann squares her shoulders. “I’m unable to answer that at this current time. I guess we will just wait and see when we get there tomorrow.”

I release a bitter laugh. “Are you fucking joking? There’s no way I’m going to stand up thousands of people again. Either he’s going to be there or he isn’t, which is it?”

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“What do you mean
you don’t know
?”

“It means I don’t even know where he is, okay?” she growls at me. “He’s gone and I have no clue where he is. He’s not answering his phone—nothing—so like I said, we won’t know if he’s going to show up until we get to the arena tomorrow.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This is fucking ridiculous. I told you that you put all your eggs in the wrong basket. Guys like Ace can’t handle the pressure of being center stage.”

“I don’t need this right now, JJ. What we need to focus on is finding Ace. His foster mother is ill, so I’m pretty sure he’s heading to Ohio to see her. If any of you speak with him before I do, you better tell me, and let Ace know that I expect him to be at that show tomorrow night.”

“Why would you even think that we’d talk to him before you? He rarely speaks to us, and we are definitely not his friends,” I tell her. “This isn’t anything new.”

“Unbelievable. Well, you all better hope that we find him or we’ll all be out of jobs.” She doesn’t give us time to say anything else, just turns on her heel and walks away.

Damn that Ace. Now he’s really gone and fucked us all.

The next show comes and there’s still no sign of Ace. From the information that Jane Ann was able to dig up, the woman who raised Ace passed away last night in a hospital in Columbus, Ohio. Ace was there when she died, and it’s assumed that we’re going to have to cancel the next few shows to give him a chance to grieve the loss and attend her funeral.

As for the rest of us, we’re stuck in limbo, waiting to see when Ace will return. Jane Ann has made several attempts to reach Ace, but all of her calls have gone unanswered.

I’ve been cooped up in my hotel room for days, which isn’t a good thing for me. It allows me too much time for my mind to wander and dwell on people in my past. The one person who’s been on my mind since the day I found out that Ace’s foster mother passed is my own mother.

Seeing what Ace is going through and how that shit’s being publicized in the tabloids actually makes me feel sorry for him. I know firsthand how much it hurts to lose a parent, so I can sympathize with what he’s going through. It also reminds me that life is precious and that there are no do-overs when it comes to people you love dying.

I haven’t seen my mom in nearly five years, but she’s the only one I’ve remained in contact with from my old life. My calls home are sporadic and short, but it’s nice to know that she’s okay. As much as I love Mom, it hurts too much to speak with her because I can’t stop myself from thinking of Dad when I do. But it’s times like these when I just need to hear the sound of her voice.

I grab my cell off the nightstand and dial the number to Mom’s candy shop, where she answers on the third ring. “Best Candies.”

I lick my dry lips. “Hey, Mom.”

“Jared.” The way she says my name it nearly sounds like a sigh of relief. She does that every time I call, like she’s been waiting since the last time we spoke to see if I would call again. “It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m good. Busy, but good.”

“Being busy is always good. It tends to keep your mind occupied,” she says.

I know there’s so much more she wants to say to me, but she’s learned over the past few years that if she starts digging too much, or mentions London, those are the triggers that cause me to hang up. That completely makes me feel like an asshole. My life shouldn’t be this way, but it is. It’s royally screwed up, and I’m too much of a coward to face all the people that I’ve caused so much pain.

“I’ve heard your band mentioned a lot. What’s going on with your bandmate? Looks like he flipped out during a performance,” Mom says, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I sigh. “Apparently his foster mother was in the hospital, and he took off to see her. It was honestly a good thing he walked off stage, because he went right to her and was able to tell her good-bye before she passed.”

Mom’s quiet for a few minutes. “Not everyone is so lucky.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. I wish to God that I would’ve gotten a chance to see Dad and talk to him one last time. There were so many things that I wanted to say to him—tell him how much I loved him and what he meant to me—but I never got the chance. Ace is lucky, and he should count his blessings that he was so fortunate.

“Does this mean the band will be taking some time off?” she asks. “I would love for you to come home. I know Wes would—”

“Wait,” I interrupt her. “Does he know we’ve kept in contact all this time?”

“Of course not. I haven’t told anyone like you asked. I know there’s some bad blood there, and that’s between the two of you, although I wish you’d come home and work things out with him. He’s the only family that you’ve got left other than me, and I would like to see the two of you become close again.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Wes will never forgive me for what I did. We both know that. He said so himself.”

“You might be surprised at how things change over time. If you never try to make amends, how do you know what another person is willing to forgive?”

I sit on the edge of my bed, and my eyes drift up to the ceiling. Tears attempt to push their way through, but I fight like hell to stay strong and not allow my emotions to overtake me.

Am I sorry for what went down the last night I saw Wes and London? Absolutely. Can I take back what I did? No, but I wish to God that I could. I never meant for things to get out of control, and I will never forgive myself for what I did, so how can either of them?

Leaving everything behind was the best thing I could do. It was the only way that I knew to force myself out of their lives—by not being around them, not giving them a chance to forgive me.

It took me at least a year and a half before I could even call my own mother on the phone after what I did on the day the University of Tennessee decided to revoke my scholarship. I’m so ashamed of myself for everything that happened between London, Wes, and me after the school took what little bit of normalcy I had left—not to mention wrecked all the plans I had for my life—away from me.

I didn’t think it was possible for my mother to love me anymore after that, but I was wrong.

“Will you think about it?” Mom asks.

“What?” I ask.

“Coming home. If you’ll have time off, please consider it. I would love to see you.”

I take a deep breath. I’ve missed her so much, and I would love the chance to see her. Life is way too short, and I need to stop being such a coward and take the risk of seeing people that I’m not exactly ready to face just yet in order to see Mom. She means the world to me, so I’ll risk facing London and Wes again if I have to, although I would prefer to take baby steps and just start out by seeing Mom alone first on this visit.

“Okay, but it’ll be quick, and you’re the only person I want to see,” I tell her.

“Of course, son. Whatever you want.” I don’t have to see her face to know that she’s smiling.

When the plane touches down, I stare out the window at the familiar surroundings that I haven’t seen in so long. We’ve played a couple shows in Knoxville, but I make it a point to not stick around the city long for fear of running into people that I may know. I wasn’t ready to face it—not that I’m ready now, but the need to see Mom helps me overcome the fear a bit.

The captain turns off his seat belt sign, and I stand up from my aisle seat to grab the carry-on bag I brought with me. I only have one bag since I don’t plan on staying long.

After trekking through the terminal to find the rental car desk, I quickly pay for my vehicle and head out down the road. Not much has changed since I’ve been to my hometown, but the city has gotten a few new restaurants.

The clock on the dashboard reads 2:54, and I know Mom is probably still hard at work at the shop, so I cut down Main Street and head in that direction.

Since Dad’s death, Mom has thrown her entire life into this shop. She was always busy before, but since Dad’s not around, the shop provides her sole income. The army provided her with some sort of death benefit money too, but I know she tries not to touch it so she has some kind of retirement.

It eases my mind a bit to know she’s able to focus on something else besides having to face life without Dad around. Music was that for me. It was the only thing other than baseball that I was ever very good at.

The quiet little candy shop’s windows are covered with an array of pictures displaying all the different kinds of treats she can make. I study the windows and think back on how bare they used to be. Seems Mom has livened up the place to draw customers in.

I park the Ford sedan rental and cut the engine. Part of me itches to run inside and throw my arms around Mom and pretend that the last few years never happened, while the rest of me knows there’s no forgetting what’s been done. For so long I lived in a fog of pain and anger. It took me a long time to wake up and realize all the damage I caused by my actions, and by then too much time had gone by. I figure it won’t do any good to apologize now. I’m sure they’ve moved on, and bringing it up again will only reopen old wounds—wounds that I plan on leaving to heal by staying as far away from London and Wes as I can.