Page 113 of When the Storm Breaks
It had only been four months since I’d last seen him, but he’d gotten more muscular, bigger somehow, and he seemed more mature. Or maybe that was what I told myself because I was about to confide in a seventeen-year-old boy. I told him about Dean and how I’d promised to record a duet with him.
“Shit,” Ridge said, pushing his hand through his hair and replacing his ball cap. “I get why he’s pissed.”
“I know. I screwed up. I never meant to hurt him…”
“But you’re doing it anyway,” he said, cutting right to the heart of it. “Why?”
It was so hard to explain but I tried. “To me, music is sacred. And Dean wrote a song that nobody else could sing except for us. I think, maybe, if Brody heard the song, he might be able to understand it better. It’s not a sweet song. No hearts and flowers. It’s …” I stopped to think about it for a moment, trying to find the best words to help him understand. “I wrote a song called ‘Damage.’ It was about me and Dean. And the song he wrote was almost like an apology letter.”
“Why couldn’t he have sung it himself?”
Good question.
“He’s an addict, right?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, well, he’s manipulating you. It’s what they do. It came through loud and clear in all your music. I’ve been there. So has Brody. We know how an addict can twist the truth and lie and make excuses and make you feel like shit. They make you feel guilty for just being alive, for not doing enough to make their shitty life better.”
God. Ridge was so smart. And he and Brody had been through so much in their lives.
“And you fell for it again. So yeah, I get why Brody’s pissed. And I think you’re great but if you go through with this, you’ll be fucking up. Big time.” He stood up from the sofa. “Make it right or you’re gonna lose him. Catch you later.”
I watched Ridge’s back as he walked away from me. Then I sank back into the sofa cushions and tried to figure out how to fix what I’d broken. Brody’s trust. Maybe his heart. I’d put my music and my career first. In his eyes, he probably thought I’d put Dean first too. And I really couldn’t blame him.
Was it really worth it? If we recorded that duet and the song climbed the charts, would it be worth what I’d sacrificed to achieve that?
Dean had played me. Again. God, I was such an idiot. He’d brought Ari Bell in on purpose, knowing my ego would never allow me to let her sing a song written for me. She was the new lead guitarist and backup singer for Acadian Storm. She’d taken my place. And not for the first time either.
The first time I met Ari Bell, she had Dean’s dick in her mouth. She’d been the guitarist in a band that opened for us on our third and final world tour together. And now I’d agreed to let Acadian Storm open for me in North America.
Why did I keep allowing myself to be manipulated by Dean? But he wasn’t acting alone. My brother had played his part. I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth about Landry. I wanted to believe he was better than that and wouldn’t stoop to this level. But every time I spoke to him, it was getting harder to do. He kept reminding me that I owed him and I owed Dean.
When would it end? When would my debt be paid?
I didn’t know who to trust anymore. No, that was a lie. I trusted Brody. I trusted every single person in his family. But I didn’t trust my own family.
It had to stop. I called Landry first. He answered on the second ring. “Landry. We need to talk.”
He laughed. “Whoa. That sounds serious. I just saw you yesterday.”
“Yeah, I know. And you and Dean… you did it again, Landry. You made me feel guilty for saying no to him.”
“If that’s how you feel, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Just tell me the truth. Who asked Ari Bell to join the band?”
“Why?”
I knew the answer. Dean couldn’t have done it because he was in rehab at the time. “Why did Gus really leave?”
“Shy…”
“I know it was you, Landry. What I don’t get is why you would do this.”
“Are you fucking serious right now? You left the band. You destroyed us…”
“I didn’t destroy the band. I left because I couldn’t take it anymore. We always said it was about the music but little by little it stopped being about the music, Landry. When did everything change? When did you start caring more about making headlines than putting out good music?”
