Page 94 of To Bring You Back
She shouted the questions, but Gannon kept walking. Kept his eyes turned away. The performance would end when she realized she had no audience.
Except they did have one. Tegan and Adeline had joined the group on the patio, and all five faces had turned to watch.
“Fine. Well.” She whipped off her sunglasses, revealing the bruise, which had darkened. “We’re already on a cliff. Maybe I should take a step in the wrong direction, right? For all you care?” She loosened her grip and stepped back toward the short wall.
Gannon caught her wrist. “Call Karina.”
As much as he disliked Harper’s misguided life coach, Karina pandered to Harper’s ego and got her through her worst mood swings. He and Adeline already had one too many suicides on their consciences.
Harper glared at him, chest rising and falling fast.
“Now. Call her now.”
Harper yanked her hand free. “Why do I put up with you?”
Another sentiment he could parrot back to her. “Make the call.”
Anger set her jaw as tears welled in her eyes. Harper punched her index finger against her phone screen as she marched toward the cabin. She lifted the device to her ear as she stepped onto the patio. Though Gannon had stayed where he was, halfway between the cliff and the house, he heard her shout into the phone.
“He’s throwing me out on the street. He says I have to leave after I came all the way up here.” She stomped into the house.
The door slammed behind her.
All five faces turned back to him.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Matt and Tim resumed their conversation. Tegan looked at the door Harper had used. John focused on Gannon with an expression that seemed to say he’d done the right thing.
But Adeline dropped to a seat with her back to Gannon. If she’d listened to the songs, they hadn’t made enough of a difference.
There was too much to navigate here, too many conflicting opinions, too many eyes.
He let himself in the house, changed into riding gear, and tore off on his motorcycle.
25
The phoenix song played so fast, Adeline had to keep hitting pause and backing up the recording. It was hard to hear if she hit the right note at the right time because the bass guitar played through an amp, but the song played through her laptop.
She had ducked out of the home theater, leaving Tegan, John, Matt, and Tim watching a movie. Equipment more sophisticated than anything they’d had back in high school packed the studio. There must be a way to play Gannon’s recording through the speakers, but she’d barely been able to get the bass plugged in and working.
Then again, her inability to use the equipment was an excuse. The truth? She’d dreamed up an advanced part too complex for a beginner.
She could feel it—what the song could be, what she intended to play—like a desperate need, the way a person hungry for air felt pressure in their lungs. But her fingers on the strings brought dissonance, not satisfaction. She replayed the first ten seconds of the recording and hit pause. As she fit her fingers back on the strings of the bass, the studio door cracked open.
She hadn’t seen Harper or Gannon since the two had fought on the lawn. Had Gannon returned from his ride? If so, he would be disappointed at how poorly she played. It’d be one more step toward an answer from God that didn’t result in them being together.
Matt entered instead. His forehead furrowed when he saw her, and he seemed to assess her setup—the computer, the bass. “You lost?”
She bit her lip. “Gannon said this would be all right.”
“You think you have a right to be here?” He stepped in, shut the door, and leaned against it. “Prove it.”
He was going to stand there and watch? He wasn’t this confrontational or challenging to Gannon, but Gannon also had a confident presence she couldn’t muster while holding a bass she couldn’t play right.
She replayed Gannon’s recording again, delaying the embarrassment a little longer. When it ended, all she could imagine was flubbing up the notes. She pressed the play button one more time.
The song ended all too soon. Matt crossed his arms, blue eyes icy with interest.
Maybe she could nail it. Maybe the music she felt would come out this time. After all, she’d once been good at this. The knowledge had to be there somewhere. She hit replay and tackled a few notes.
