Page 30 of The Drummer

“We can’t dance without sleeping together?” she counters, but there’s no conviction in her voice.

“You tell me. Would you have let me kiss you out there?”

I know the answer. And I know she does too when she lowers her gaze.

“Probably,” she mumbles.

“You would have. And you would have loved it,” I tease to lighten the mood. I didn’t sacrifice the kiss I so desperately wanted just to scare her away with the explanation.

Her eyes find mine again, and that strange protectiveness returns. In some ways, she’s so mature beyond her years. In others, her naivete is as alluring as it is terrifying. She’s walking a path she can’t begin to understand, and her guide is the last person on this planet she should be following. I haven’t seen Luke in a while, but I know him well enough to know he didn’t invite all these people here to prove how great he’s doing.

He's also my best friend, so I’m not eager to rip him down in front of the only true friend he seems to have left besides me.

“Anyway, this isn’t your scene. I’m trying to remember that. The normal rules don’t apply.”

Her gaze locks on something behind me and goes dark. I twist back, positive I’ll find Jana, but what I see is even worse.

Shit.

Anger spikes through me. Resentment. Maybe it’s not fair, but I’m human too.

Haunting flashbacks mix with the present scene as I watch my intoxicated friend hide his pain in chemicals and women. One of the models who’s attached herself to him like an appendage is a dancer from our “Better Get Back” video. She’s always had a crush on him. The other two I’ve never seen before. Probably friends or friends of friends.

Or guests in Room 216 or whatever.

This is exactly the shit that ruined our lives. I get that addiction is an illness, but understanding something andliving with the realities of it are two very different things. A year ago, I let his addiction almost end my life. He clearly hasn’t changed like I hoped, and maybe that’s the part that hurts the most. All I’ve ever wanted for him was to be okay.

He said he needed me. I came back for him. Maybe he does, but he doesn’twantme. At least, not as much as he wants his pain and self-destruction.

While I’m still wrestling with whether I can invite this chaos back into my life, Callie filters into view.

Fuck. I can’t imagine what’s going through her head right now. I tried to warn her, but there’s no preparing someone for the demons of Luke Craven when they come out to play.

“He doesn’t care about them,” I say, attempting to read her fears. “I doubt he even knows them.”

It’s not entirely a lie. In the state he’s in, he probably wouldn’t recognize anyone, let alone some dancer he saw for all of three seconds.

“He’s completely wasted. He can barely stand,” Callie says. The horror in her expression tugs at me, but I have no idea how to explain what’s actually happening right now.

“Yeah. Believe me, they wouldn’t have a shot otherwise. He doesn’t fool around like that anymore.”

Her wide eyes tell me we’re not even close to being on the same page about this.

“Wait, what are you saying?” she asks in alarm.

I squint back, confused. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Shouldn’t we do something?” she cries.

“Do what?”

What exactly does she expect me to do? If she knows how to reverse a decade of spiraling, by all means, have at it.

“Casey! This isn’t him! We can’t just let him do this!”

“Do what? What are you so upset about?”

“That! They’re taking him back to his room!”

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