Page 36 of Caught Stealing

“Still doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

I nod, knowing that truth all too well. Even if it feels like the time that’s passed should have lessened some of the pain. Or I’d have learned to cope better, at the very least. But if I’ve learned anything, there’s no timeline for something like this.

Silence fills the car again, the only sound being the cadence of the engine and the quiet lull of music coming from the radio. I’m grateful for it. For having a moment to think. Except thinking and talking about them steers my mind straight back to the night I can’t remember.

To Phoenix, and the memories of him that continue to evade me.

My eyes find the mirror again subconsciously, only to discover him already staring at me. Not in contempt or irritation like normal, though. There’s a flash of empathy in those dark depths, an emotion so out of place, I almost miss it entirely before he looks back out the window.

But it was there, making me realize one thing.

He was listening, after all.

Twelve

Phoenix

Stopping at my parents’ for the night was the best idea I’ve ever had, because if there’s anything worse than being forced to share a house with the constant source of my misery for ten whole days, it has to be driving seventeen straight hours with him to get there. My patience was already wearing thin before we stopped for lunch yesterday, so breaking it up into two days was necessary.

And I’ll admit, after overhearing Holden had lost his parents, spending the night at home with mine ended up being an added bonus. I hugged them goodbye a little longer than usual this morning because of it too.

“Dude, why didn’t you say you’re loaded?” Noah says as we pull out of the driveway to officially hit the road.

“My parents are loaded,” I correct him, not bothering to look up from where I’m scrolling through my playlist. But nothing sounds good to drown the three of them out for the next ten hours of driving.

“Typical rich person’s response,” Kason reminds me.

I glance his way, finding him already peering at me over his shoulder from the passenger seat. But he’s got a soft smile on his face that I know well enough to realize he’s poking fun.

My family’s money has never meant anything to Kason, even when we were growing up. In fact, it’s one of the many reasons we became so close, despite him coming from a completely different lifestyle.

Doesn’t mean he passes on the opportunity to troll me for being a trust fund kid.

“What do they do?” Holden asks, and my attention shifts to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror.

I silently debate how much to tell him before going with the watered-down version. “Dad works for a record label.”

Kason snorts, and I catch him shaking his head. “Tryownsa record label.”

“No shit,” Noah muses beside me. “Country?”

I let out a short laugh and shake my head, since that’s what everyone assumes when they think of the music business in Nashville. “No, actually. More alternative rock and metal stuff.”

“Anyone I’ve heard of?” Holden pipes up.

“Doubtful,” I mutter, still focused on my phone.

Kason decides to join the conversation with, “He signed Icarus Ignites last year.”

“For real?” This comes from Holden, and I glance up to see him looking at me in the mirror for the eight millionth time in two days.

My eyebrows lift in surprise. “You know them?”

“Of course. They’ve exploded in the past few months.” A little smirk forms on his lips. “Well deserved, since their new album is a masterpiece. Nash Kaelin has the voice of an angel and the scream of Satan himself.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself—though I’m a bit taken aback by him having even heard of the band at all.

“He listens to a lot of the same stuff you do, Phoe,” Kase says. “Maybe it’s enough for you two to call a cease-fire for the rest of the trip?”

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