Page 63 of Bone Dust

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ian

What Savi doesn’t know is that I’d do anything to protect her and Gigi, and Drake is the least of my worries.

“What do you remember about your overdose?”

“Wow.” The sharp sense of surprise snaps my eyes wider, hiking up my brows as I dab at my mouth with the napkin. “That came out of nowhere. Are we doing a ‘best day’ story to ‘worst day’ conversation?”

Savannah tips her head as a shadow of regret falls over her expression. “I’m making it awkward. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I dismiss the hint of remorse in her voice. “I don’t care. It’s just a topic as far away from sweet babies as you can get.” I dab my mouth with the napkin. “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, Savannah.”

A sweet smile fills her lips.

“Long story short, I was drunk and high—but that was nothing new. We were going on stage in half an hour. I’d tried making small talk with the guys, but they didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Nobody knew what to expect when I got on the stage.

I was depressed that day. I got hit with a sucker punch of grief and their shunning made it harder. Every step in front of an audience reminded me of what used to be. They accepted Dash’s death and were moving forward. I wasn’t. I couldn’t. To sing I had to be numb. I was screwing up. Messing up songs. Stumbling as I tripped over my own feet. I fucked up nearly every performance. If I ever had any real friendship with the guys, I tanked it. We lost the camaraderie we had when Dash was with us. I couldn’t hold a decent conversation with any of them unless I was high. All that did was piss them off.

“It sounds horrible,” she says, barely above a whisper.

“It was, but I deserved it. You feel it when you’re the outcast. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. I thought by joking around it would ease the tension and they wouldn’t feel so bad about Dash. All I did was irritate them.” I shrug. “Everybody deals with death their own way. All I could see was my own pain, but I could feel theirs. It was unbearable. I needed an escape.”

“What happened that night? What was different?”

“I fucked up. Like, big time, fucked up. The show. The meet and greet. After it was over, the guys let me know how they felt. It wasn’t so much what they said, but the passive-aggressive shit hit hard as a brick.”

“They didn’t see your pain.” Her blue eyes blind me with their charity. The tenderness I see there reminds me of her soft heart.

“I didn’t see theirs.” I pause. “After the meet and greet, we would grab dinner together. That night they left me out. I went to my room, my insides all twisted, knowing I’d no one left. I let them down. I let myself down. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I was having stomach pains, so I went to the vending machines.”

I push the chair back and take my plate to the sink. Savi does the same. She places her hand on my back. “You got any coffee?”

“Yeah. I’ll make some.”

Savi goes back to the window seat as I pull some beans from the freezer. As I measure, grind, and fill the machine with coffee and water, I digest the crux of the story. It’s crazy that it feels good to tell this story to her. Like confession must feel in a church.

I go back to my chair while the coffee brews and find Savi sitting quietly with her legs pulled up on the cushion.

“Is that all you remember?”

I’m shocked she wants to hear more. “No. I remember the vending machines; I couldn’t even get that shit right. The machine kept spitting out my money. I was about ready to toss it all and—I know this sounds crazy—an angel came and helped me. It was just like momma told me: Your guardian angel is always with you and will protect you and come to you when you need them.

She was more beautiful than I could have imagined and everything my mother described to me. Her voice was a melody and she led me to a box. At first, I thought she was taking me to heaven. The light was so bright. Then there was darkness. I thought we might be on the way to hell.” I throw up my hands. “Now I know it was an elevator.” I look up into Savannah’s eyes and clear my throat of sudden emotion.

“She loved me. Then she left me. Just like my mother.”

“What?” Her eyes widen. “Why would you think that?” Savannah asks.

“It felt real enough but I’m pretty sure I’m more suited for the company of demons. Not angels.”

Savi’s lips purse. “All this talk about angels and demons.” She goes to the beeping coffee pot and moves one of the cups I placed on the counter. “It’s nonsense. You’re a good person, Ian Stan—Oww!”

In an instant I’m at the counter, grabbing her hand, and placing it under cold water.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine. Let the water run over your fingers for a minute.”

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