5. Billie

5

Billie

The last time I slept so badly was when Lars and Cain ended things, leaving me devastated. My heart was broken, and I was convinced my life had ended for a while. I desperately tried to forget them, and some of my choices afterward weren’t the best, like the mile-long list of despicable men I went through. I never expected I’d see them again. Assumed they were a painful memory I’d put behind me. But in truth, all I did was put a Band-Aid over a wound that needed stitches.

I fantasized about seeing them again and making them suffer. Having them on their knees, regretting throwing me away like trash. But fantasies are nothing like reality. I deluded myself that I was over them, that they didn’t matter. Apparently, I’m an idiot because the moment Lars revealed who they were, my entire world came barreling down around me. Suddenly, all my dreams of vengeance vanished, and I wanted to throw my arms around the only two men I ever truly loved.

Today’s a new day, and that pathetic girl from last night is long gone. I’m Billie Richmond, a music journalist. The girl who’s interviewed legends like The Rolling Stones. She’s traveled the world. This girl’s had many relationships. She’s grown into an amazingly strong person. She’s no longer the scared eighteen-year-old with an angry, pill-popping mom.

I take one last look in the mirror. Ripped black jeans, a Dead Kennedy T-shirt, and a long hot pink cardigan that falls to my ankles. Kaye told me to head to the presidential suite. I was hesitant to go into any suite that held Cain and Lars, but she mentioned all the guys would be there, and she would also join us.

My hands shake as I press the button to take me to the penthouse. The need to run is still aggressive as I tap my foot to an imaginary tune. It was much easier when Lars and Cain were nothing but a distant memory locked away in a forgotten part of my mind. Now, I can’t deny their importance in my life or the mark they left behind when we parted.

The elevator doors fling open, and my heart beats erratically. It’s like a noose circles my throat—at any moment, it could tighten and snap my neck. The sense of doom hovering over me grows with every step toward the large doors at the end of the hall. But I can’t run. The days of running away from pain are long behind me. I’m a fighter now, and there’s no way I’m letting anyone scare me off.

The frigid metal from the door handle is a reminder of the tundra I’m about to walk into.

“There you are, Miss Richmond,” Kaye says as she rushes toward me. “The guys are a little rough today. Striker and Mayhem overdid it last night.”

I peek over her shoulder at Cain, who has his feet on the coffee table while he puffs at a joint. Then I see Lars as he picks his way around a large table overflowing with food. My heart surges to see him eating, something he rarely did growing up. His mother was too busy using their grocery money to feed her habit instead of her starving son. I remember the first time he talked to me, Trevor’s moody friend, who looked like he’d been dragged to the Nar-Anon meetings.

“Mary makes a mean lasagna,” I whispered to Trevor’s friend.

I usually paid close attention to what everyone said at the meeting, but I was distracted by this guy’s cat-like honey eyes tonight. I’d never seen eyes like it. They were almost supernatural. He was paying attention to every word of those who spoke today. It reminded me of the first time I’d come here. After two years of living with my personal nightmare, I stopped feeling so alone.

“Yeah, it tastes good. If Mary always brings this to the meetings, y’all will see me here every damn week.”

“You think this is good? Wait until you taste her roasted chicken.” I lifted my fingers to my lips and kissed them. “Chef’s kiss.”

He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. A smile with a side of sorrow. “My mom made a mean roasted chicken before”—he shrugged—“you know.”

I nodded. “My mom never made roasted chicken or anything. But she used to be here.”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d give anything to have my mother back. I’m not even sure who this lady is that I live with. She’s out of it or going somewhere to get something to be out of it.”

“How’d she get hooked?” I asked and instantly regretted it. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s okay. My dad and her got into a car accident six years ago. He died, and she had some complications. The doctors gave her some pain meds, and that was the beginning of the end. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m even here. My mom’s gonna die, and then it’ll all be over.”

The way he spoke about his mother’s eventual death took me aback. It broke my heart how cavalier he’d seemed about it. Sure, he wasn’t a kid anymore. I assumed he was eighteen, like Trev and me, but it was still his mom. I couldn’t help thinking how bad off his mom must be for him to assume she was near the end. I hoped when her time came, it wouldn’t be him who found her body.

“Why don’t you pack some of the grub, and we’ll head to the shack,” Cain, Trevor’s other friend, said as he smacked Lars’ back. “Trev is up for a jam session.”

Lars had the smoldering tortured artist appeal, but Cain had that “I’m so huge that you’ll look like a little mouse standing beside me” appeal. I was five foot seven, and the guy was so huge that I only came to his armpit. The expression “climb him like a monkey” described guys like Cain.

“You want to come along, Billie?” Trevor asked with the sweetest smile.

I liked Trevor. A smart kid with an enormous heart. Trevor was always kind to everyone, no matter who. He was a pure soul. Of the three of them, it was Trevor who looked like he didn’t belong. He was a genuinely sweet soul who everyone wanted to be around. Trevor was the light, even though he was surrounded by darkness.

“You can come,” Cain said.

“You play an instrument, Billie?” Lars asked.

I smiled. “I played piano a bit as a kid, but I’m not very good, I’m afraid. But I love music.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s your favorite band?” Cain asked, biting into a carrot stick.

I crossed my arms, a little irritated that I was being quizzed. “Nirvana.”

Cain nodded. “Respect. You can roll with us.”

“Billie Goat Gruff,” Lars shouts, arms raised as he tries to balance his giant plate of food. “Did you have a good night?”

I shake my head to banish the past and step toward him. “I did, thank you.”

Lars peeks over my shoulder toward Kaye. “Take the day off. We’ve got this.”

Kaye looks frustrated as she places her hands on her hips. “If you think I’m leaving you alone with a reporter after the stunts you pulled yesterday, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Take a hike, Kaye,” Cain chips in. “We’ve got this.”

“When all this blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me,” Kaye huffs as she storms out the door.

“Alone at last,” Cain says, puffing on his joint before passing it to me.

I shake my head, turning down his offer.

“Suit yourself, but I figured it might shake off that tight-ass act you’ve got going for yourself. Aren’t you supposed to be a rock reporter? What’s up with those old lady sweaters? It’s like you’re trying to channel your upper-class pedigree or something. It’s kind of funny since we all know how much you like to slum it.”