Page 10 of Bone Dust

I cut her off. “See, for you, that’s where that night ends. That isn’t where it ends for me. Every day I remember that it was that song we were singing when he went blank and forgot the words. Words you now inform me you wrote. I wish I could forget some of the bad shit that happened to Dash but I can’t. He forgot how to play guitar. Forgot he’d earned Grammys. Forgot the guys, his wife … me. There’s only three people who ever gave a shit about me and two of them are dead. I fucked things up for a lot of people. After tonight, I’ll remember I fucked it up for you, too.”

Savannah’s expression goes blank and, when I look at Sam and Jeri, I see sorrow in theirs.

“I—"

“Spare me.” I cut her off. “I danced with my demons that night. Thanks for the little walk down memory lane.”

Savannah blinks back in shock and her tone softens. “It was a bad night for us both.”

“Are you serious? After what I just told you?” I look from her to Sam. I want to say more but I see pain in his eyes.

I take a couple of deep breaths and stuff down the hurtful words I want to hurl at her. She’s someone to him and, because of that, I tread lighter.

“Look—Savannah—in my mind we’ve just met. Tonight, I had no intentions of being a dick but you’re making it really hard.”

A tremble snags her bottom lip as a shadow falls over her expression. I feel like there’s something more here but speaking of Dash’s last days has left a deathly tang on my tongue. Sam or no Sam, I’m done.

Savannah grabs her stuff. “I gotta go.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Savannah

Ibolt out the door. A few steps into the parking lot, I double over, desperately needing fresh air.

After pulling a few deep breaths into my lungs, I stomp across the parking lot, shoulders slumped and mind still spinning. I’m no better than a child having a temper tantrum. What was Sam thinking?

Ian unleashed, saying his piece with a tone that was much harsher than the sexy, buttery edge of Boundless Hearts' earliest recordings. I used to crave listening to his voice and, tonight, he used it to cut me down. My pissy attitude made him hostile, and he made sure every word he spoke was so deliberate I wouldn’t mistake his feelings. I thought I had complete control, but his rage left me second-guessing myself. He left my emotions pricked and bloodied. Though he couldn’t see it, I mourned his pain.

Who was that woman in there?

My emotions are pricked and bloodied. I mourned his pain and, when he recalled how he wanted to die, I broke inside. I wanted to say more but had to get out of there before I gave myself away and revealed things I’d rather forget.

Disbelief shakes my head. I’m not that woman. I’m not a bitch who stabs and hurts. I’m more of a woman who cares and comforts. Now I feel like crap. I had the chance to say how sorry I am for his loss but didn’t. Now, my brain hurts. My head throbs. My stomach churns with a mix of anger and sorrow. What should be a night I’ll always remember will forever be tainted by Ian’s pained expression. The scene snuffed out my joy and will haunt me forever.

Exhausted and angry more with myself than anyone else, I yank open the car door and drop like a stone into the seat. My throat clamps down as I choke on my behavior. I only thought of myself, and I’m mortified.

Damn! Damn! Damn!

I hit the steering wheel with both fists in a futile attempt to release some frustration. Why did I let him get to me?

I take a few more breaths as I lay my head down. It’s a poor substitute for a pillow but I need a moment to find some calm in this chaos. Two encounters with Ian at different times in my life. Both have been a mess.

Sam said Ian lives in Rock Hills. If that’s so, when did that happen, and why here? I want to know. Until tonight when he blurted it out Sam’s never mentioned a word—and he knows everything about my life. He knows about the song and the contest and everything else.

Dad and Sam were brothers in arms and that made them as close as if they shared a bloodline. They talked on the phone once or twice a week. Sam stayed with us during the summer and even spent most holidays with us. He never married. Never had kids. He even teased how he liked having a kid with none of the hassle. He’s a second dad and whenever I need him, he’s there. He always was.

The screams started before Candace doubled back in the Uber. I was in a hurry to get in the house and talk to my mom about the concert and my phone fell out of my pocket. What I remember are fragments.

The police.

A photographer.

Body bags.

When something pricked my arm, I barely flinched. Everything went dark and when I opened my eyes hours later Sam was there, and he stayed because I needed him.

No one warns you about grief. How everything hurts, the pain as raw as flesh ripped from a bone. I found no relief in tears and my heart hurt so bad I prayed I’d drown in them. My eyes burned. I barely slept and, when I did, nightmares waited.

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