Page 20 of Code Word
I was shocked, honestly, that Maddox had gotten Luke to do anything.
“Luke hasn’t been himself,” Roscoe said, his way of breaking the ice. “Maddox said, at any rate.”
I sighed. “That’s one way to put it, I guess.” I didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but fuck, man. “I don’t know what’s up. He won’t talk to me.”
“He broke up with Vana,” Roscoe offered, then he shrugged when I looked at him. “Platinum released a statement, saying they’d ended on good terms, remain close friends, wish each other well, blah-blah-blah. It was onEntertainment Tonight.”
I sighed. “Of course it was.”
Sure, Vana was still contracted under Platinum, so I understood, but fuck, I hated that shit.
“I thought that’s what might have been bothering him,” I said. “But nope. He’s spoken to her since we’ve been up here. He wanted to apologize for how things ended.”
God, I’d almost forgotten about that conversation, what I’d overheard her say to him, about him being in love with someone else. Which, for all I knew, might have been a fake excuse he’d told her to make it all more final.
“They haven’t really been on good terms for a while,” I added. “Not really. But to be fair, they also hadn’t been in the same city much these last few months.”
Roscoe sighed. “It can’t be easy. Hell, it was hard enough for me and Maddox, and we were awaytogether, not across the country. Or planet.”
“I don’t think long distance was their issue,” I added quietly. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. “Fuck, I dunno. I dunno what’s going on inside his head. He’s never been like this before. He’s writing music again, though,” I allowed. “It’s been a while.”
“Do you think he misses the band life? The work, beingbusy, and surrounded by constant music production? The fame, the headlines?”
I took a large swallow of my coffee. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Maybe?”
“Maybe he liked knowing who he was in Atrous,” Roscoe said gently. “Knowing where he fit in, what was expected of him, what his job was every day. But also you guys, all of you, together every day, against the rest of the world, and now... well, now he doesn’t have that.”
“But he does,” I countered. “He has me. And the others. All of us.” Even though it really wasn’t the same, and I could rationalize the point Roscoe was making was fair. “He has me.”
“You were away for a week,” he said.
It wasn’t accusatory; it wasn’t said with malice or sarcasm.
“And he spiraled,” Roscoe added quietly.
“What are you saying?”
He put his free hand up in a peaceful surrender. “Nothing. I’m just trying to paint a picture of what happened.”
I let out a sigh, trying not to be so damn defensive, so angry.
So hurt.
But then I noticed Luke and Madz up on the rise with the dogs and Luke was clearly talking, running his hand through his hair, but he was the one who was talking.
To Maddox. Not to me.
And that anger and hurt flared in my chest like a wildfire burning through me. “What the fuck?”
Roscoe’s line of sight went from me to them, back to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Why is he talking to him?”
Roscoe gave me a what-the-fuck look. “What do you mean?”
“Why is he talking to him?” I repeated. “And not me. Why won’t he talk to me?”
I was so fucking mad—so fucking hurt—that I began to walk toward them, but Roscoe grabbed my arm to stop me.
