Page 87 of Tortured Tones

“I know. But I am.” He eyed Dad’s small, white stucco house with its brown wooden fence line, rickety gate, and broken concrete pathway. “Cute place.”

“It’s old and crappy, but it’s home.” I headed for the gate. “I grew up here. My intention was to only stay here for a couple of months after my divorce, but then Mom got sick. Luther turned into a nightmare. I started my new job and haven’t had time to find somewhere to live.”

“Ava, you don’t have to make excuses or justify why you live with your dad. You’ve got to do what’s right for you. I couldn’t wait to get out of home, but I didn’t always live in a multimillion-dollar mansion.” He lifted the wooden latch on the gate, held it open as we entered, leaving it ajar behind us. “I grew up in a house similar to this in the backstreets of Pasadena, only our place was two stories. My parents totally gutted and renovated it after I moved out.”

“Are they still there?”

“Officially yes, but they hardly spend time there anymore. Mom works for a big pharmaceutical company and spends most of her time in Paris. Dad goes with her, consulting on engineering projects whenever he feels like it.”

“Living the dream.” We ambled along the short pathway and climbed the three front steps.

“More like good riddance.”

“You don’t get along?” I dropped my overnight bag in front of the door and dug for my house keys in the bottom of my purse.

“No.” He leaned against the porch pole and crossed his ankles. “Tia and I didn’t turn out like they’d planned. They wanted Noble Prize winners and corporate geniuses who changed the world, not rock stars and actress-cum-sound-engineers.”

“But you’re so successful. You touch people’s lives with music and entertainment. You’re one of the few who’ve made it. Aren’t they proud of what you’ve achieved?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I assume they are, but I wouldn’t know it. I barely remember a meal with them that didn’t involve heated arguments over us wasting our intelligence and not doing something more constructive with our lives.” He lowered his chin and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Would you believe I graduated in the top five kids in my class at high school? Tia did the same.”

“Wow.” I didn’t know that. I pushed the door open, tossed my bag inside, and turned back ’round to face him. I leaned against the doorjamb. “So you’re good-looking, talented, and smart?”

“Nah.” He pulled a leaf off the nearby shrub and fidgeted with it. “I’m just a guy who loves playing the drums, hangs out with my friends all day, and gets to travel the world doing those things.”

“That’s pretty incredible.” Wouldn’t we all love to do that? “But it must have been hard in the beginning without encouragement and support from your parents.”

“Music was good for the brain but not a career.”

“You wanna sit for five?” I pointed toward the steps. Luther wouldn’t be far off. Talking to Cole would help pass the time until Josh arrived. And Cole intrigued me. He rarely opened up. So much went on inside that head of his, I was more than happy to listen...and get to know my client better. Kennedy and Eric wouldn’t mind waiting a few more minutes. “I’d ask you inside for another coffee, but Dad will probably be asleep after coming off night shift.”

“Ava, I don’t want to come inside.” A small smile played across his lips. “I just wanted to be a gentleman and walk you to the door.”

“Oh . . . okay. Good.” I was glad we’d cleared that up.

“Have you always got along with your dad?”

“Yes.” We took a seat on the top step. “My family is really close. Mom and Dad always encouraged me and my sister to follow our dreams. Celina always wanted to be a nurse for as long as I can remember. I wanted to be a cop. They were stoked when I joined the force. Luther wasn’t. When the shit hit the fan after my divorce, they said I could stay here until I sort myself out. I’m still working on that bit. But it’s been good living here with Dad since Mom died. We’ve helped each other through the rough times.”

Cole rested his elbows on his bent knees. “You’re lucky to have a family like that. My band is my family. We’ve had our ups and downs but survived. Somedays I don’t know how.”

“But you seem to get on so well.” I stretched out my legs and crossed my feet.

“We do. They’re my life. But there’ve been several times we’ve come close to calling it quits. Most of those times were over some girl.” His eyebrows pinched together as he half-smirked. “We have this thing called the dibs rule. You’re not allowed to touch each other’s girlfriends, their friends, or anyone’s exes. It came about after Phil and Flint got into a fight over Shelby in high school. Flint was so in love with her. So was Phil. So was everyone. She was popular. Pretty. Smart. It was impossible not to like her.”

“You included?” I nudged my shoulder against his.

He lowered his chin and shook his head. “Just as a friend.”

“So how did you end up sleeping with her?”

He took a deep breath and stared toward the open gate. “I wasn’t in a good place at the time.” Cole relayed the night of the drunken drug-fueled Christmas party, how broken he’d been after Priah left, how the grief and guilt had crippled him after Aidan’s suicide and how consoling Shelby, who’d been upset over Flint, had gone too far. The agony and anguish in his voice speared my heart. “Flint is like a brother to me. I never wanted to hurt him. I never wanted to lie to him. But I was unsure Shelby really happened until Tia told me a few months ago she’d seen us fucking at that party. I wanted to keep it buried, but then...I got a letter about Charlotte.”

“Love fucks us up, doesn’t it?” But what hit me the most was that even after therapy, Cole still struggled with the things that had happened. Maybe he needed more professional guidance. Maybe, in some way, listening to him would help.

He scratched his sexy stubble. “It certainly does. Priah messed me up good. She was amazing. I thought she loved me as much as I loved her and wanted to be with me forever, but it was all a lie. I nearly quit the band for her. Thank fuck I didn’t. Tia warned me about her using me—I didn’t listen.” He seemed to flick away his pained memories and pasted on a cool, casual smile. “I don’t want to ever be blindsided like that again.”

“Nobody would.” What would it be like to have someone like Cole treasure you, love you, and want to give up everything to be with you? Have him love you so much you ruined him for anyone else? “I don’t think I’ve ever been that in love before. Luther and I did love each other to some degree but it slowly corroded as his career took off, then it turned into nothing but a toxic infestation.”

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