Remi’son a flight the next morning.
Deep down I knew she would be the second Christian showed me the two of us splashed over gossip sites and celebrity rumor accounts.
The pictures couldn’t have popped up at a worse time, given what I hit her with the other night. I wouldn’t want her dealing with the hounding she’d have been in for regardless, but the blow was more brutal.
Despite what she said, the sinking feeling I’ve lost her skirts around my edges. Ready to trickle in and threaten my sanity.
I swore to show up some way in her life while she’s not here. Now I need to figure out how the fuck I’m pulling that off so it doesn’t just feel like a cheap Band-Aid slapped over a four-inch cut.
Tension radiates through the bus once she leaves and tags along to the dressing room before our concert. Shockingly, I’m not the source, but it certainly involves me.
Petty Colt has been engaged after he overheard us from the wing. It’s not as entertaining as usual. Mostly because he’s hurt I didn’t tell him who Remi was the second she showed up in Prague. I hate him resenting me for it, but I wouldn’t change it. He would have backed me up on not wanting her on tour and likely told Christian the reasons.
And I wanted her on tour. Even amid actively refusing to sign off on her directing, I wanted her there. Call it a self-torture kink, but once she’d dropped directly in my path, I opted for punishing myself over losing the chance of seeing her.
As we walk off after the encore, Christian’s on a call with someone, telling him a flash flood damaged the venue in Atlanta. The canceled show creates an unexpected two-day gap in our schedule.
The extra downtime couldn’t have come at a better time, and within a few hours, I’ve hauled Colton and his cranky ass with me on a flight of our own.
I’m in need of a hard reset, and only one rooftop will do.
* * *
The patioon top of Chase and Val’s house is better than anything Chase and I found on our own. The stairs come out next to the elevator, and one entire side is open for the view. Smooth flagstone underfoot, a fireplace, a dining table for entertaining, and a lounge area that makes you feel lazy just by looking at it.
Perfect for relaxation, philosophical moments, and a place to gain a little bro-spective.
Weed helps with the last one as much as the bro who guides me through it.
We haven’t needed a four a.m. roof session in a long time, but he was waiting up here with beer and a joint even though he doesn’t drink or smoke. Now I’m halfway through both, and Chase is staring at me while I watch the night skyline.
“You never told me you found her back then,” he says. “We need another math lesson on what you tell your best friend?”
My mouth quirks up at the thought, but I grow somber again. “I didn’t see a point. She was gone, and you were dying.”
I didn’t give details on the reason Remi disappeared on me, only that she had a good one, and he isn’t pushing for more.
When he doesn’t say anything, I glance over, and he’s nodding. “Only for like a week. You’ve had five years since then to fill me in.”
Tightness creeps into my throat, all the regrets splashing at the surface. “I didn’t tell you because it was the reason I wasn’t there for you that night.” My voice is gravelly, and I have to swallow to clear it. “If I hadn’t gone after her, we would have gone rock climbing with Colt.”
His eyes dart to our sullen brother in a wicker chair who refuses to sit near me, but he’s most definitely been listening to every word.
“Everything would be different,” I continue. “You were on that ladder because of me. Because I went after her instead of being where I needed to be. I’d already missed so much in Europe…” I blow out a breath and drop my head onto the chair back. “At the time I thought she betrayed me and kept me from helping you. You lost so fucking much because I was chasing her. You were right. I fucking acted like my dad, and you almost died because of it.”
A beat passes before wicker drags over brick. The scraping ends, and Colt drops into the chair he moved to be beside mine. He won’t look at me, but he’s here. Like he always is when I need him to be.
I take a hit and roll my head to see Chase on my other side. His jaw muscles are rippling beneath the skin, and he leaves me with his profile.
“First of all, you’re nothing like that man. Next up, almost.” Then he looks at me. “Ialmostdied. I didn’t. I’m here.” He huffs a laugh, not amused but more matter-of-fact. “Nothing that happened was your fault, Foster. I told you that.Thiswas the problem.” He taps his fingers against his temple. “My brain was the enemy. The call was coming from inside the house.”
Shaking my head, I lower my gaze. “And I should have?—”
“What?” he says, cutting me off. “Stayed at my side twenty-four-seven? Diagnosed me? Fuck, brother.Ididn’t know what was going on, why the fuck would you?” He swipes my bottle cap off the table between us and tosses it over my head, so it lands on Colton. “You listening, fuckface? Because it’s been a minute since you heard this shit too.”
Colton’s stoic and locked down, but his eyes flick to mine for a second. He blames himself for letting Chase climb the ladder, and I always counter I’m the reason he wanted to. We both missed the signs Chase was battling with something. Colt realized it that night before they left the bar, but he has his own hindsight to deal with—calls and texts with Chase while we were in Europe.
Chase sighs. “I have bipolar disorder. Chances are I wouldn’t have gotten treated until something happened. So, if it wasn’t that ladder that night, it could have been a million other things during an episode. I won’t blow rainbows up your dick and claim I wouldn’t change anything. What happened fucking sucks, and most of the world isnotbuilt for a paraplegic. But I survived. I adjust. I’m living. I went back to school and landed an easy-as-fuck job that pays more than rock star bodyguard.”