Page 49 of Guitars and Cages

“And yet somehow they ended up being friends.”

“Yeah, funny how life’s little ironies work.”

He chuckled at that. “Then why don’t we start all over and see if we can’t figure out how to be friends, too, ’cause once they leave, I’m kinda on my own here. You and Morgan and your brother are about the only people I’ve met outside of work. I’d like to come down to the bar and hang out sometime if you’re not gonna get all pissed off about it.”

I froze then. “No” was on the tip of my tongue, but then I thought about what he’d said about being alone, and how that was pretty much how it was for me. Besides, hanging out at the bar would be safe. “Yeah, okay, we can do that.”

He smiled then, and for the first time I found myself wondering what his deal was that he was so desperate for company that he’d persistently put himself in the path of an asshole like me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one with issues. “I guess I better go help them pack my crap, but, uhh, we’re gonna have a sendoff party for the band on Friday night if you wanna come by.”

His smile widened and he nodded. “I’d like that. Thanks, Asher.”

“No problem.” I turned then, and headed into my apartment. It didn’t take us too long to pack up. I never stayed places long; it’s not like I owned much. Some movies, an old PlayStation, couple games, some dog-eared books, clothes, my guitars, the plates and things in the kitchen. Most of the furniture I’d found on the streets and dragged home, and the only piece I was really fond of was the overstuffed chair I spent most of my time at home sitting in. I tried to help Mark move the chair, but got pushed out of the way by Morgan. Prolly for the best; the last thing I needed was to go back to the hospital.

When we were all packed up and the last of the boxes were loaded, I trudged down the steps to go see old garlic-breath to turn in the keys. He seemed pretty pleased that I was leaving, and I was pretty happy I didn’t have to pay him any more rent. He was pissed when he had to give back the security deposit, though—for all my mishaps, I’d always fixed everything that’d gone wrong. Another thing I was good at, I supposed.

Sitting in the truck next to Morgan, I leaned against the window, tired and kind of wanting a nap. I was hungry, too, and looking forward to fixing something to eat when we got there. We’d packed the food from my fridge in coolers, to add it to Morgan’s fridge. With the schedule at the bar we’d all be eating at odd hours anyway, and it wasn’t like we had kitchens in our rooms. I guessed it wouldn’t be too bad, though, to eat together like we’d done when we were young. At the very least, it would be good for Rory, if all that stuff on PBS about family meals was to be believed. Okay, so I was a sucker for Cookie Monster and Oscar the Grouch, and Count had always been cool.

“How are you holding up?” Morgan asked when we were halfway to the bar. We were stopped at a light, and he was watching me with that worried look etched into his face.

“Tired, hungry. I’m gonna grab some cereal when we get back, then crawl into bed.”

“I’ll make you something better than cereal.”

“You don’t need to do that; I’m not moving over the bar so you can try to take care of me.”

“You are a stubborn little shit.”

“All day, every day.”

“Well, today is not going to be that day. I’m going to make you something better to eat then cereal and you’re going to eat it without protest; then you can take a nap in my room while we unload.”

“Dammit, Morgan, I’m not gonna break. I can manage to help unload just fine before eating and napping.”

“Actually, you’re already broken, so that’s a moot point.”

I gave up, ’cause he had me there. Yawning, I closed my eyes, and I guess I got pretty comfortable because the next thing I knew he was gently shaking me awake.

“Can I sleep a little longer?” I groaned, batting at his hand, snuggling tighter against the seat.

“Inside. Come on, you can sleep in there.”

His voice was distant, reminding me of when he’d find me sleeping in the stall and carry me back to bed. I’d always protest; he’d always pick me up and mutter about how he’d told me a million times not to sleep in the barn. I let him help me out of the truck, but I insisted on heading inside on my own, though I regretted it the moment Rory caught sight of me and went for a flying tackle. Needless to say we both ended up on the floor. He was laughing; I was groaning, but laughing, too. It was good to see him.

“I missed you,” he said, hugging me tight. “Are you okay now?”

“I will be,” I told him, ruffling his hair. He blew raspberries at me as he climbed back to his feet. I stayed on the floor a bit longer, until someone took pity on me and helped me up.

“You okay?” he asked, studying the way I was holding my hurt hand tight against my midsection. Even in the cast, it throbbed.

“I need a painkiller, but I don’t wanna bother Morgan for one. I’m just gonna go lie down for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Still, he walked me to the steps, and lingered while I made my way up them. I found the room Morgan had given me and crawled onto the bed before curling up around my hand. Note to self: punching a wall is not a good way to vent anger. I must have fallen asleep again, because the next time I woke up, Rory was lying on the bed next to me, also asleep, and it was dark in the room. I could hear music drifting up from downstairs. Soft, though I’m sure downstairs it was blaring.

I glanced around the room and saw all the boxes, as well as a bottle of water on the end table along with a note from Morgan, telling me to come down and eat if I was hungry. My stomach rumbled at that, but I didn’t feel like moving. Someone had draped the blankets from my bed over me when they’d brought them in. Man, I must have been exhausted not to have heard them bringing boxes in all around me. I tucked one of the blankets around Rory, and then closed my eyes again, only to be startled awake by the door crashing open and slamming against the wall. Rory woke up with a cry, and I wrapped my arms around him instinctively and started tucking him beside me while I tried to focus on the large figure that filled the doorway.

The light flipped on, blinding me for a second, which was just long enough for Cole to cross the room and grab me in a bear hug.

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