Page 127 of Strange Lad

The next forty-two hours go by in a whirl of phone calls, witness statements, and Morgan’s arrest.

After we left the station, I got a call from Detective Sloane later that evening saying two more victims had come forward about Morgan. I guess, just like me, they only discovered the new laws around sex crimes in California. She assured me that despite being a former Chief’s kid, that wouldn’t spare him from facing the law.

I busted my ass to make sure I recalled every detail. Jorge helped me write it all down so I’d have it ready for Miguel, who agreed to help me pro bono. He’s already getting the appropriate papers filed with the court so we can fast-track my case due to the circumstances. And Morgan, that fucking coward, swallowed his threat to press assault charges against us because, according to the bar video footage,hekicked Jorge first.

Jorge didn’t remember that part, and I hadn’t seen it.

Regardless, I can finally make good on my word and show up to the studio like I told Phoenix I would. A hole in my heart is slowly stitching back together now that he and I are speaking. I know I still hold some resentment, but I’m trying, and so is he. That’s all I can ask for. I shoulder through the double doors, heading down the hall to their suite. I can already hear loud chatter as I go inside. Much like last time, they all go deathly silent when I close the door.

“Hi,” I say softly.

Jorge rocks on his heels, lips pursed. Phoenix rubs the back of his neck, and Eli won’t make eye contact with me. Michael is glaring at me like I’ve personally offended him. Kelly seemsunfazed, scrolling on her phone and giggling. Devon is the one who breaks the ice.

“You guys are all a bunch of bitches. Tell the kid!” He gestures at me.

“Doyouwannajoinourband?” I blink at Jorge, who exploded the question so fast I could barely understand it.

He wiggles his hips, cups his face, and squirms. “I was going to ask you like…later,” Phoenix admits. “Butthis dickdidn’t want to wait.” He points at Jorge.

“It is exciting! I’m so fucking happy.” The happiness twists into full-blown tears.

I’m frozen solid, unable to form thoughts or breathe.

“I’m not getting shoved back to rhythm. I refuse. I’ve been theonlyguitarist for a fucking decade.” That’s Michael. “No offense.”

“Wait…what?” I finally find my voice.

Jorge slurps his tears back into his skull, scrubs his eyes, and rushes over to me. He takes both my hands in his slightly damp ones and kisses me fast. “We want you to join our band. You have said that you have always wanted to play with Phoenix. And after what you told me—you know, how you want to do something you enjoy? I figured…”

“Just so we are clear, I am okay with this, as long as you are still as good as you used to be,” Kelly says. “Phoenix has been bragging.”

I look down at Jorge, who is a tear-stricken, wiggling mess. “Say yes,” he blurts. “Please. Oh god, can you picture it? Us playing together and kissing on stage like those fuckers in Sleep Token?” He sighs dreamily.

“Jorge, I—”

“You don’t have to, Oli. Seriously. It was Jorge’s idea, and we all concluded we could use another guitar player. Michael has to play over a track on some songs.”

Michael stiffens. “Plentydo it. It’s not like I’m lip-syncing.”

“Didn’t say it was an issue, dude. But come on? How dope would it be to not rely on the track for Isolated?” Devon offers.

“What about the court stuff?” I ask softly because that will take up some time, I’m sure.

“We don’t have any tours set up yet.” That’s Kelly. “We are still writing the last few songs for the new album.”

I can hardly believe this.

They wantme, Oli, to joinDreadful?

My throat bobs as I swallow, eyes blinking. Tears are welling up in my eyes faster than I can stop them. After everything these people have done for me, they are going to go the extra step?Phoenixis going the extra step? I glance at my brother, and he tells me through his gaze.

Our promise still stands.

“Give me a moment,” I croak, releasing one of Jorge’s hands so I can swipe at my eyes. This is fucking surreal.

“I also might have looked at something I wasn’t supposed to,” Jorge mutters. I peek at him, and he blushes, ducking his head. “And I also might have accidentally kept looking at it until I figured out what it was.”

A watery laugh escapes me. He looks so guilty. I knew he was up to something when he’d crawled out of my bed at 2 am to ‘get water.’

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