Page 150 of Beneath the Stain

Blake was next—Blake, who hadn’t said a word in the entire exchange. “God,” Mackey said, and Blake grunted.

“Man, I like that you think I’m a brother and all, but next time I’ll just take the extra gift at Christmas.” Blake nodded enthusiastically at that, and Mackey wanted to kiss his thin, weasel-cheeked face, just because.

Stevie and Jefferson came next, and Mackey had to tell them he was grateful. “You guys kept that secret so good I didn’t even know you knew,” he said seriously.

They nodded together. “Well, we didn’t expect you to lose it in the middle of a family crisis on the kitchen floor,” Stevie said, and Jefferson nodded.

Mackey half laughed. “Guys—I love you, you’re my brothers, but does anyone mind if I go drag Trav back here into this mess? Man, I’m just fucking lost without him.”

“Yeah, okay,” Briony murmured, grabbing his hand. “But let’s get you dressed first, okay?”

Mackey shook his head. “Did the little bastard really grab your boob?” he asked as she guided him down the hallway.

“Swear to God. I heard him out in the bathroom taking a leak, and I looked out of the shower curtain, and his eyes got all big, and I realized, ‘Holy crap! I’m flashing a fourteen-year-old,’ and that was when he reached out and grabbed it.”

Mackey sort of laughed, and then he got more to the point. “I’m sorry about that. Man, Trav tried to get your mom up here—you need to go back to bed, and you need someone taking care of you—”

“Shelia did just fine. I miss my mom, but don’t worry, Mackey. It’s like I told her when she called this morning, Iamwith my people, okay?”

“People who grab your boob.” They were in Mackey’s room by now, and he started rooting for his suitcase, which was on the floor by the corner. Briony crawled into his bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she’d brushed her hair wet and braided it, and he tsked. “Don’t do that—have Shelia dry it. You’ll get sicker that way. What were you thinking, taking a shower like that?”

“I didn’t smell good,” she mumbled, pulling the covers up to her shoulders. “And I may take the top bunk here. I’m too used to being on tour with you to not want to sleep in the same room with someone. Will you and Trav mind?”

Mackey took a deep breath and tried to put everything square in his head. He didn’t need coke or Xanax—or, well, he was thinking about them, but that wasn’t what hereallywanted.

He wanted Trav. “If Trav comes back,” he said quietly, “I think we can not have sex until you’re better.”

“Wait a second.” She propped herself on her elbow. “No wonder you had a meltdown in your underwear.Ifhe comes back?”

“He… did you miss the part with the fight?” Mackey asked, looking over his shoulder at her. Her face was pale, and she looked like her little adventure in the shower had capsized her, but she wasn’t hacking up a lung anymore.

“No—I heard about the fight. Shelia and your mom were freaking out ’cause it took too long for you guys to get bailed out. Whydidit take so long?”

Mackey laughed a little. “’Cause everybody’s boss showed up so he could post a picture of Trav in jail on Twitter.” Just thinking about it made him smile. “Trav was mortified. I mean, he’s s’posed to be the grown-up, you know?”

“Is that why he went to the hotel?” she asked soberly. Well, she’d had to live with Trav too this year. Trav’s freakish control issues weren’t exactly a secret.

“Yeah, and the fact that Grant wasn’t the devil and I’m a big fucking mess and he hates Tyson with the heat of a thousand suns—man, I think he just wanted some fucking scotch, right? And he can’t even drink around me because he thinks it would be rude. Naw, he needed the night off.” Mackey’s voice dropped. “I mean, I hope that’s all he needs. I’m….” He found a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt and slid them on. Then, without fastening the jeans, he threw himself on the bed stomach first.

“I like bunk beds,” he defended.

“I noticed.” Her eyes were half-mast and her cheeks were getting red and flushed, but that sandpaper sarcasm was fully functioning.

“I like to disappear in the corner.”

“Which is really hilarious, considering how you make your living.”

“Thanks for not leaking that to the press, by the way.”

She half laughed. “The best thing about being your entourage is that I’m some homely girl in boys’ clothes that nobody gives a shit about. It’s like I’m invisible to the press.”

“What are you doing in my brother’s clothes?” Mackey asked, because he was tired of talking about Trav and all the pressure Mackey put on him and all the reasons he might not come back.

“I dunno,” she murmured. “Shelia went into his room special for them. He’s big as a fuckin’ house—I’m swimming in ’em. Now I know how Shelia feels, being all tiny and shit.” Her cheeks were adorably freckled from this close, and Mackey stroked a finger across one.

“When I want Trav to know I want him, I wear his shirts,” Mackey told her, and he saw that she was trying to pop her eyes open, but she was too tired and too sick to do it.

“Aw,” she mumbled. “Who told?”