Page 96 of Guitars and Cages

“Damn. I just... I find that hard to believe.”

“What part?”

“The part about you not havin’ friends. How can you not—I mean, you’re not an asshole like me.”

“We all have our issues, Asher, trust me. Besides, you haven’t been a complete prick. The night you helped me with the furniture—you didn’t have to do that, you could have given me the screwdriver and gone back to sleep. But you didn’t. You had Rory there, and you still suggested a way that would let you help and still look after him. Most people wouldn’t have bothered. I still don’t understand why you decided to try and make me hate you. I’m hoping you’ll want to tell me sometime, but I’m not gonna push you into it. But I think if you’d let yourself, you’d be a really good friend, and I need one right now.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, kind of humbled that he was actually counting on me and telling me he needed me. I tried to think of a safe question, because there was so much about him that was still a mystery. “What was it like growing up with a twin?”

“It was pretty cool. When we were real little we’d switch clothes and fool people and all that, finish each other’s sentences. But the older we got, the more we drifted apart.”

“That sucks, man; brothers are supposed to be close.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. I guess that’s why I couldn’t help but stand in the doorway when you and Alexia were fighting. I knew how bad it felt to have family turn their back on me, and so I was gonna try and be there for her if you kicked her to the curb. I’m glad you didn’t, though. When you opened that door back up and hugged her, that’s when I knew for sure there was more to you than you were showing.”

“I kept thinking that I would never forgive myself if I didn’t open the door and that was the last time I saw her, the last thing I said. Our oldest brother, Chase, died a little over a year ago, and the thought of losing another brother scares the hell outta me.”

He was quiet for a bit, casting the occasional glance at me. “You know, that kinda explains why you followed Cole. I didn’t get it at first, but it’s clearer now. I’m sorry about your brother.”

“I’m sorry about yours. I know how much that has to hurt. I look at Alexia and I can see she’s hurting over the way Cole’s rejected her. I can only guess that’s the same way you feel about being ignored by yours.”

“Family, go figure. It’s all fucked up, you know.”

“Yeah. Thank you again, I can’t say it enough. You didn’t have to drive me and you sure as hell didn’t have to stay. Especially after...well...”

“It’s okay, I’m glad I could help. I’m glad you got to say goodbye.”

“So am I.”

“Get some sleep, okay? I’m gonna need you to take over in a couple hours.”

“Okay,” I said, curling on my side. Toward him this time, instead of away. I watched him drive until exhaustion claimed me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

It was a few hours before sunrise when we got home. I’d come into the apartment stumbling over clothes and bottles and scattered papers, cussing about the way Cole never picked up a goddamned thing, nearly twisting an ankle on the way to my room. I could hear Cole snoring in the room next door. If it had been Alexia, I’d have been tempted to go sprawl across the bed with her, so I wouldn’t have to try and sleep alone. We did that a lot when we were kids, and being home, seeing that old house, had brought back a ton of memories.

The silence in the car on the way back hadn’t helped my thoughts any. The soft sound of Conner asleep in the passenger seat after we’d switched places had been a comforting presence, but not comforting enough. The past had been like a movie playing through my mind the whole drive back, leaving me both exhausted and jittery. Still, I hated going to bed dirty, and the day had been long and hot in the car. I grabbed sweats and a T-shirt from my room, and then took a quick shower before climbing into my bed. Sleep, however, was as elusive as Bigfoot. I thought I caught a glimpse for a moment, but then the memories came back in full force.

I lay there thinking about Gage, thinking about the ranch, the way the wind had felt, the echo of the stones in the grave, the beeping of the monitors, the feel of my fingers on his face, and that final smile before he’d closed his eyes. Shivering, I pulled the blankets around me and clutched the pillow tight, the heaviness in my chest getting tighter and tighter. It had been so easy to just remember the bad times, the final moment when everything had shattered, but now I could remember the good times, too, and the love I’d felt for him.

Love.

It was strange to think myself capable of it, but being back there had reminded me of how deep my feelings for Gage had run, and how much I’d lost in leaving. Memories knifed through me again, and I twisted beneath the blankets, curling myself into a ball. Any other night and I’d have gone for the blade as an alternative to the memories, or run to Catfish so I could drown them in drugs, but tonight I wanted to hold onto them. I wanted to be reminded of something good, something better than what I’d become.

My tears soaked my pillow, and I let them, and somehow I fell asleep that way, because the next thing I knew, Cole was bouncing on my bed and trying to peel the blankets from around me.

“Fuck off,” I snarled, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“Up and at ’em, little brother. You and me, we got work to do. Where the fuck were you, anyway? If you hadn’t left your bike I woulda figured you skipped town on me.”

Smacking his hand off the blanket by my head, I yanked it up more, and cursed as he yanked it right back.

“Stop being stubborn and move, come on.”

“No.” I curled into a tighter ball even as he took the blankets clear off the bed.

“Quit being a douche and get up, will ya? I could use a hand today.”

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