Page 115 of Reverb
She stopped but didn’t turn around. Her huff was full of anguish. “God, you are so fucking impossible, Altet. I’ll keep your bear. Have a nice Independence Day.” Then she was gone.
Fuck. He’d completely lost track of the days. That last bit stung, too. Yeah, he’d won his independence, but at what price? Part of him still was screamingwhyat the other part.
There was a murmur of voices out in the hall, but they faded away. He hoped Mish was getting that hand looked at. Wounds from mouths could get ugly pretty fast.
When he looked back at the door, he discovered Ray leaning against the frame, his expression unreadable. David could only stare back.
After a few silent moments, Ray heaved a sigh and straightened. “I’d hoped you’d change your mind.”
“Sorry. I need...” What? Something. Anything but this emptiness. This feeling he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, even if it was the right choice.
“I’ll have Marcella send you the paperwork and shit. Settle up and all that.” He took another long look at David. “I’m not lying when I say it’s been a pleasure to work with you, David. You were family.”
There was that word again. Deliberately used, no doubt. Ray was a wordsmith and knew his craft. “It’s been an honor,” David replied. “All of you are beyond—” He reached for a word and came up empty. “I couldn’t ask for a better group. I mean it.”
Ray stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked weary and sad. “I know you do. See you around, David.”
“Thanks, Ray.”
Then he was gone and David was alone with unshed tears, a stitched-up knife wound and a hole in his heart that was never going to heal.
For a moment, he’d had a family, and now he was alone. He only had himself—his pride and his independence—to blame for that.
By the time Mish returned to her apartment with her bandaged hand and a bottle of antibiotics, she was done with humanity. Completely. She was even too fucking tired to cry or punch pillows or shit. She sank onto her couch and put her face in her hands, then pushed them up into her hair, feeling the curls stop and trap them there.
Her luggage was strewn about the front room. Hadn’t even had a chance to unpack.
If only—
But no, she shoved that thought away, even as she slipped her fingers out of her locks. No ifs. David had made a choice, and while she hated it, didn’t agree with it, didn’t understand it, she had to respect it. And that meant not getting herself wound up by what she couldn’t change.
She had changed the shit with her stalker, though. He was gone, and that was a damn good thing. Relief eked through the sorrow of losing David. No more comments or emails. Sure, there’d still be troll stuff, but nothing like that controlling bastard. Maybe she could get her ring back, too. She’d have to ask the police about that.
Mish stood and started her nightly routine, moving from her living room into her master suite and ignoring the hollow in her heart and focusing on the weight that had been lifted. Later, later she’d acknowledge the loss in her soul. But that was too raw and new. Too much, after everything. Did David think they wouldn’t come see him in the hospital? That with this over, they wouldn’t—shewouldn’t want and need him anymore?
Mish pressed her hands down onto the cold hard marble of the bathroom counter. So much for ignoring that. Fuckinghell. Tears welled in her eyes.
Someone buzzed her apartment. Gave her an excuse to wipe her eyes and stop looking at her horrible reflection in the mirror. She figured it was Ray, or maybe Dom. They were the most likely to come to see her after really emotional shit went down. But when she called the front desk, it was Marcella who’d come.
A couple of minutes later, she stood in Mish’s apartment, Marly in her hands.
“Oh.” Mish reached for the bear and pulled him into her chest. “David wanted me to have him.”
“So he said.” Marcella hesitated for a moment. “Do you need to talk? Do you want me to stay?”
Wasn’t like Marcella at all to offer an ear, but then again, here she was. “I’m—” She wasn’t fine. “Yeah, maybe.” Mish gestured at the couch in the living room. “You pull the short straw or something?”
Marcella huffed. “No. I’m here because I care. And honestly, the guys have no idea what to do. Not about David, at least.” She sat.
Mish joined her. She could only wince at his name and hug the bear tighter. “Idon’t know what to do about David. I want to throttle him for being so fucking dense. But I also get his need for independence. It’s not that easy when you’ve always relied on yourself to hitch your wagon to others.”
Marcella tipped her head. “You did.”
Mish pressed her nose into Marly, hoping to catch some scent of David. His skin or shampoo or soap—and yes. There it was.
She lowered the bear. “I did. I bet if you ask Ray and Dom, they’ll tell you I didn’t rely on them. Ray was the leader and all, but I took care of those guys for a long time.”
But then Zavier had joined the band during that tumultuous tour. Life had been stellar and horrible at the same time, and they’d all learned to help each other. It had propelled Ray to take care of them all—then Adrian had joined their group, too. Dom had found his own stride.
