Page 86 of Before Now

“Make it make sense,” Dev mutters.

I grind my teeth together, about to snap at the mere mention of our tour’s new addition. Xander, the wannabe boyfriend she’s clearly fucked. Her roommate who misses her. Her new assistant.

Every thought and feeling bombarding me on the bus before I kissed Remi has resurfaced. Why I can never trust her. Now I remember it all. I remember him.

A friend by any other name.

No excuses, though. I reread the book, expecting a different story.

Christian groans up front. “Christ. Okay.” He groans again, even more exasperated. “Shit. I don’t even want to ask this.”

“I’ll do it then,” Colton says. “Did anyone cross a line with Remi? Say something, do something?”

Dev sighs and tips his face up. “She’s never acted like we got close to any line. Even on Halloween, she bit right back at us and joked around. If she ever felt…” He audibly exhales. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

“Well, we know Christian’s talked to her legs from the beginning. You had her licking you for a shot.” Colton kicks off the wall. “Foster’s been a prick since moment one. Felix is Felix.”

I glance at our drummer, slumped in a chair and looking at nothing. Other than his thumb tapping his thigh, he hasn’t moved. Damn, I bet his demons are circle-dancing around the flames right now.

“Anyone touch her?” Christian hates the implication of the question. I hear it in his tone, but he needs to ask.

“No,” Dev says, and Felix slowly moves his head side to side, gaze remaining unfocused.

“Foster.”

My eyes shift to Colton, my jaw about to crack and knee bouncing. When I give him nothing else, his eyes close, head falling forward.

“The bathtub.” Not a question. He saw her attempting to hide. “It was consensual.” Another statement, but I nod when his head lifts because it needs answered. It deserves an answer, even if we’ve been ordered not to use the words sexual harassment and assault. Two of the other three focus on me, then he says, “Any other times?”

I nod once.

“The bruise she’s been covering up is from you?” This from Christian, referencing the mark they’ve all caught glimpses of but no one’s called out.

A nod.

“Oh, shit.” Dev shoots me a concerned look.

“My advice is we not do any of it anymore.” Christian directs it toward everyone but looks straight at me. We all know if I’m the only one who’s touched her, the likelihood of whatever the fuck is happening involving me skyrockets. “Regardless of who and what caused this, we’re all responsible moving forward. We need to remember Remi’s not one of us. She’s here for Mac and Erickson, and now they’ve sent the wannabe. Anticipate him jumping on anything he views as inappropriate and running to them. To cover all our bases, assume his definition includes everything he considers a threat to what he wants.”

Colton pops his neck, a mask in place when he locks eyes with me. The stare reiterates the warning about Remi and Xander. I nod, having been force-fed what I already knew and, for some fucking reason, tried to ignore.

* * *

The tension loomsover all of us, the darkening sky serving as a dark cloud as we return to the bus. Christian’s already on his phone, wandering off, when Colt charges ahead to board first. He’s in security mode, reappearing before I reach the stairs with a nod.

“You’re good,” he tells me.

But I’m not because I realize it’s Remi. He’s protecting me fromher.

I halt at the door, which forces Felix and Dev to a stop. I need to breathe, a second away from everything. Shaking my head, I change direction, following the length of the bus. Dev curses behind me. Not Felix, though. He still hasn’t said a word, and a gut check says he won’t until he’s high.

Clasping my hands on the back of my neck, I round the end of the bus into shadows. As soon as I’m out of sight, I let in what I’ve staved off since the karaoke room. The anger and fear and doubt, and then the heartbreak and ache and guilt. The bitter taste of betrayal returns, and all the way at the bottom of the Remi box, the hate.

And it’s as potent as ever.

I drop my hands, followed by my forehead onto the cold metal. The situation feels wrong, like a piece has been forced in where it doesn’t belong. But I can’t be fooled by the faulty wiring inside of me when it comes to the sad, broken girl—my beautiful liar. Only two of those words have ever been true. Remi was never my anything. She was never mine.

In need of a distraction, I push off the bus and spin, leaning against it. I fish out my phone to shoot off a text. I intend to ignore all the notifications until one snags my attention. The same number called three times since yesterday. Without it in my contacts, I would usually ignore it, but this one’s also in my messages. At the top and from less than a minute ago. When they text again, a bunch of question marks show in the preview.

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