Page 132 of Fire
He chuckles. “Okay, I guess we deserve that. This does look kinda sus.”
I refrain from commenting on how he’s too fucking old to be using a word like sus.
Instead, Zara and I take seats across from him and Asher. Darius picks the seat next to Zara, giving her a flirty wink I don’t appreciate. And Evans? Evans looks like a fish out of water, his eyes flicking from me to Zara to Zander before finally sitting next to Asher.
“This is all starting to feel a touch hostile,” Asher begins, his attention focused on me. “So I’m going to get right to the point. Hendrix, you’ve put us in a bit of a bind.”
My heart begins to race, and my eyes dart around the room.
Who told them?
My dad would never…
“When we brought you on, we knew we’d like you. Zander spoke highly of you. What we didn’t expect…was how quickly you’d become someone we couldn’t afford to lose.”
“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath, causing Zander and Darius to chuckle.
“But a band can’t have two bass players,” he says, turning his gaze from Evans back to me. Then he shrugs. “Or can it?”
“I don’t understand.”
“He’s asking you to join the band, dipshit.” Zander grins from across the table.
I turn my attention to Evans because surely he can’t be on board with this idea. He’s the bass player, after all.
“Hey, Hendrix. It’s been a while,” he says softly. That’s when I realize how different he is. The Evans I remember was loud and boisterous, always up for a good time.
This version of Evans seems to have gained some much-needed weight on his gangly frame. His cheeks are flushed, and his once-long brown hair is cut short and close to his scalp.
“Good to see you, man. This is Zara Valentine.” I introduce him. “She’s the in-house doctor. And my girlfriend.”
They exchange pleasantries, followed by a brief, awkward silence as Evans rubs his face and exhales. “Right, so Asher’s been covering for me, yeah? Telling everyone I just needed some time to myself, but the truth is, I just got out of rehab a couple of months ago. I’m an alcoholic.”
“E—” Darius rises from his chair, walks over to his friend, and pulls him into a tight hug. After a few hushed words and a pat on the back, Darius doesn’t return to his seat and instead takes the one next to Evans. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have been there for you.”
“I was ashamed,” he admits. “After everything that happened with Mitch, I couldn’t believe I let things get that far. I should have known better, you know? I should have learned my lesson.”
“Addiction doesn’t follow the rules,” Zara chimes in, her voice gentle and encouraging. She might think she let her emotions override her judgment regarding my diagnosis, but I believe it’s those same emotions that make her an incredible doctor—a compassionate one. “It’s not logical. It’s a disease, and it doesn’t care about what’s right or wrong.”
He nods. “I know that now. I do. But at the time, I felt like I let everyone down.”
“You did the opposite,” Asher says. “You made us proud. You recognized that you needed help, and you went and got it. But now that the truth is out, you need to know we’re here for you. So tell them what you told me when you rang me up and said you were ready to come back.”
His throat bobs. “I want to play again. I want to be here with you guys. You’re my family, and not being here feels wrong. ButI’m not sure I can handle the pressure of playing full time. I’m afraid—” His voice cracks. “I’m afraid the stress will get to me, and I’ll relapse.”
“And we would never want to put you in that position, Evans. Which is where you come in,” Asher says, pointing at me. “We know it’s unorthodox to have two bass players, and I know it’s asking a lot of you when you have better offers out there.”
“I don’t.” I cut him off, knowing now is the time to speak my truth before they get their hopes up. “I turned them all down.”
“What?” I hear everyone say at once. Even Elena, in the far back, yells something in surprise at my declaration.
“Why would you do that?” Darius is the one who asks the obvious question.
I turn to look at Zara, and she gives me an encouraging smile. “Well, as it turns out, I also have something to tell you, and once I do, you might want to think twice about bringing me on as a band member.”
Asher’s brows furrow. “What could change our minds?”
“I recently found out that I have a condition called task-specific focal dystonia. It’s a neurological disorder that basically causes a disconnect between my brain and my nerves.”
