Page 14 of One Last Verse

“It’s been a few years. I’m over it.” His words hung in the air, somber. There was a pause followed by a long, shaky drag. “Did Frankie-boy ever tell you about his birth mother?”

“Some. Yes.”

“Did he tell you why social services took him away from her?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you how he fell into a pool once while she was out partying? He almost drowned.”

Heaviness filled my chest. Frank had mentioned a lot of horrible things, mostly neglect, but not this.

I shuddered at the thought.

“He doesn’t really talk about it.” Dante studied the burning tip of his cigarette for a few seconds. Hot ash sprinkled across his jeans and he brushed it off. “I only heard the story once. Years ago. We were on tour in Europe. Amsterdam. It was Johnny’s birthday and we decided to take him to a strip club. The elite shit with high-end dancers, bottle service, and all that jazz. Frankie-boy had a few drinks and got all sentimental during the fucking lap dance. Can you imagine?” Dante faced me, a one-sided smile twisting his lips. “That was before your lover boy married that Playboy cunt. He’s not a dog, just so you know. He’s not going to fuck around if he has a nice piece of ass like you.”

I didn’t understand why he needed to reassure me Frank wasn’t a cheater. I ignored the last reference too. Dante Martinez was a spoiled, self-centered jerk and a womanizer. Piece of ass might have been a compliment for all I knew. But we had more important matters to discuss. “Why are you telling me this?” I caught his gaze. This was the first time Dante had brought up Frank’s wife and I sensed there was a lot more history behind that infidelity.

“I don’t want you to think just because a man has access to all the pussy in the world that he can’t be faithful. It’s the same as going to an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet when you fucking hate seafood. You go because it’s convenient. Cheap, close to your house. The cook knows you. What you really like is fondue. Problem is, fondue is an acquired taste and your homeboys think it’s disgusting.”

“I’m not following.”

“Of course you’re not.” Dante laughed and slipped the cigarette between his lips again to take a drag. “You’re fondue, darlin’, and Frankie-boy likes fondue.”

Satisfied with his brilliant conclusion, Dante leaned back and pushed the smoke out. I noted a flash of a grin. The man was deranged.

“Are you seriously comparing me to melted cheese while your best friend is on the way to the hospital in an ambulance?”

Dante tilted his head and gave me the side-eye. “I’m trying to tell you a fucking story, short stuff. About your man, whose mother left him to fucking die. Good thing she’s gone. She was a shitty mother anyway. At least my mother cared enough to hit me.”

My stomach roiled. Everyone had a broken childhood. Not just Ashton and I. And in a sick way, it made me feel better.

“He’s not the best judge of character,” Dante went on. “Someone had to look out for him when he moved to L.A.”

“Let me guess. You were that someone?” I sifted through my mental notes. Hall Affinity was no different than any other band who’d hit the jackpot. One day they were playing opening sets in the clubs, the next, their songs were all over Billboard. A lot of money. Booze. Women. Drugs. I wasn’t sure these guys were in any condition to look after each other, but I knew Frank had always been the smart one. He stayed out of trouble.

“I did my best.” Dante nodded. “I told him not to marry the Playboy Bunny. He did it anyway.”

“Why?”

“Why’d he marry her?” Dante gave me a one-shoulder shrug, tossed the cigarette butt out and grabbed another. “The fuck I know.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Why didn’t you want him to marry Heidi Fox?”

“Because she was fucking around behind his back. Sooner or later, he was going to find out.”

My throat tightened. I swallowed hard and broke our eye contact. The flick of a lighter snapped in my ear. “You’re a shitty friend, Dante.”

In my peripheral, there was a cloud of smoke.

“I’d rather he found out his wife was a cunt the way he did than via the newspapers, darlin’. She wasn’t exactly keeping her affairs under the radar.”

“So you seduced her?”

Dante snorted out a laugh. His chest shook along with his cigarette. “Have you met me, Cassy Evans? I don’t need to seduce anyone.”

I wanted to kick him in the shins. “I always knew you were an asshole, but this is a new level of low.” The wicked drum of my pulse against my temples was deafening. Acid rose up my throat and coated my tongue.

“It’s only low when you do it for your own benefit. I did it for Frankie-boy. Quick extraction. The world doesn’t need to know what really happened.”

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