Page 74 of Opening Strain

“We thought we saw sparks between you two.”

“It’s complicated. She used to date one of my bandmates.”

We enter the main bedroom. “The one who overdosed?”

I nod. “Darren. He was a good guy. His overdose was a mistake, not intentional.”

“I hear you. Happened to my father’s original drummer back in the eighties. None of Hunte touches the stuff anymore.” He turns his head. “Me neither.”

There’s more to this story, but I remind myself we’re not friends. No one is. I’m not in a position to dig deeper into his story. Instead, I say, “Darren’s the reason I didn’t take the doctor up on prescription pain killers.”

“How’s your leg, anyway?”

I take his off-ramp. “Rehab is going well, but sometimes it hurts like a motherfucker.” I pause. “Don’t tell Jenna that, though.”

He laughs. “You’re secret’s safe with me.” King holds up the lockbox. “Well, I think you have everything you need in here. Let me know if I can help you out in any other way.” He walks toward the doors. “And good luck with your girl.”

I open my mouth to argue that she’s not my girl, but he’s already gone.Just who am I trying to kid?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Isit on the bed. What am I going to do with my girl, as King called Jenna? My cell pings with an incoming text, which I gratefully pick up.

LUKE

How’s it going, B? Think you’ll be ready to perform in front of thousands in 4 days?

Four days until I take the stage. How did the time disappear so fast? My hand rubs my thigh, and I look down. His implied ending echoes in my mind—please don’t make me reschedule at this late date. There’s really no choice.

It’s going great! I’ll be ready.

Three dots pulse while he types a response. I’m too impatient to wait, so I click the telephone icon.

“I was typing my response.”

“You know me, Luke. You take too long to type.”

He chuckles. “Damn autocorrect is not my friend. So, rehab is going well, I take it?”

“Yeah. It’s hard, but I’m getting through. Already up to the intermediate exercises.”

“Sounds good. Don’t push yourself too hard, though. The band wants to start the tour as planned, but only if you’re ready.”

“I’ll be ready. Flare-ups still happen, but usually because I’m not being careful. So long as I don’t do something stupid again, I’ll be fine.” I hope.

“I’ve seen some footage online of you in the Hamptons,” Luke continues. “Has the PR team been good at handling everything?”

“For the most part, they’ve been on point. We did have to leave our respective houses, though.”

“What? Where are you guys now?”

“We’re in this huge mansion on the ocean that King and Angie Hunte showed us when we were trying to fool the reporters into believing I was looking for properties out here. Turns out the owners aren’t in town and said we could lay low here. It’s in a gated community with a long-ass driveway. No reporters allowed.”

“Sounds perfect.” He takes a breath. “So, you’re there with Jenna?”

“Yeah. You know what they were calling her. Her house was mobbed by reporters. She can’t go back there until I’m gone.” Even afterwards, I’m debating how safe she’ll be there. Maybe I should buy her this mansion, and she can move Faith in with her?

“Be careful, B.”

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