Page 52

This was the next step. The first show in the next step of their journey, and Barrett felt amazing .

Everything he’d ever wanted, and it was right there: a crowd shouting for more, a demo in the mail on a fast bus to LA, a potential record deal in their pockets, and his first love sitting just beyond the haze of the spotlights at her usual table.

Had life ever tasted this sweet on his tongue? Would he ever grow tired of its smooth transition as he swallowed it without issue?

No, he didn’t think he would. But he sure would like to.

“Thank you for coming! Have a good night!” Barrett called out into the blurry crowd, who responded in an equal mix of disappointment at its closure and excitement that they’d been there.

The band followed him off the stage toward backstage, and he could tell from the wistful grins on their faces that they felt the same way as him. They’d all been walking on this cloud since they’d gathered at the post office, kissed their demo, and whisked it away.

Of course, there was also the flip side of their highs: that they wouldn’t get it and their dreams would be crushed. But most of the time, they were giddy kids, squealing with excitement.

Toni patted Barrett’s shoulder as they walked through the hallway covered in marker graffiti. Their own signatures were on the cement bricks somewhere. “Not bad, Barrett. I think you almost had them entertained. Better luck next time,” Toni teased.

Barrett rolled his eyes. “Maybe if you could stay on beat, they would stop yawning,” Barrett shot back, not bothering to hide his grin.

Tease all they want. They both knew they had a stranglehold on the audience here. Barrett even felt somewhat powerful on stage, blind to anything else.

Especially tonight.

People were already flooding in backstage—a few of the regulars, a few new faces eager to get their chance with the band. Barrett waved the others away and waited off to the side behind a curtain that hid the stage door, checking each person who walked by.

It took a few moments, as it usually did, but he finally saw Nell’s distinct hair, and when she made to walk past without noticing him, he reached out and pulled her in.

She gasped, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, then relaxed and stepped into his arms. He could tell she’d already had a drink or two; her grin was wide and relaxed.

“How is it possible that you get better every time?”

Barrett raised a brow, teasing, as he leaned so close their mouths were nearly touching. “Careful what you say, it will just go straight to my head, and I’ll become an egotistical maniac.”

She reached up, her fingers wrapped in his hair in a way that made him want to purr like a cat. “But you’ll be my egotistical maniac.”

Barrett finally caught her mouth, murmuring, “Always yours.”

* * *

About twenty minutes later, they emerged from behind the stage, adjusting their clothes and pretending that they had been up to absolutely nothing.

Barrett was pulled into a conversation to talk about their demo, and about eight minutes after that, Nell disappeared, as she usually did every now and then—most of the time, he found her dancing or chatting with Tina somewhere in the maze of rooms and hallways backstage.

He liked seeing Nell have fun. He liked seeing her laugh and gossip and enjoy her time. He liked seeing her happy. She really seemed happy.

It was about forty minutes later when he realized he hadn’t seen her for a while.

“Have you seen Nell?” Barrett shouted to Dennis over the music coming from the loudspeakers right next to him.

Dennis gave a halfhearted look around, not delighted at being interrupted while talking to a new girl. He shook his head. “No.”

Barrett was used to having to search around for Nell often here, and he was used to people not knowing where she was.

He nearly gave up looking when he finally spotted Tina coming out of one of the restrooms toward the back—without Nell.

“Tina,” Barrett called out, and the girl paused when she saw him.

Normally, Tina was ecstatic whenever Barrett talked to her. Not to sound full of himself, but she always seemed star-struck when he hung around her when she was with Nell. But this time, his wave was met with a nervous smile and wide eyes.

Barrett raised a brow and dropped his hand. “You seen Nell? I figured she was with you.”

Tina laughed awkwardly. “Oh yeah, she’s just in the bathroom. I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

“That’s fine,” he said, stepping toward the bathroom. “I just need to tell her something real quick—”

“No!” Tina stepped in front of him. “I mean . . .” She bit her nail.

Barrett realized, like a ball hitting the side of his head, that something was wrong. That he was missing something. That she was hiding something.

“What’s going on? Where’s Nell?” he asked more urgently.

Tina sighed and shook her head, her wide eyes unable to hold his for longer than a few seconds at a time. “She’s just stressed out and says you shouldn’t know. So I’m just . . .”

“What the hell are you talking about? Nell—”

Just as he was about to call out to Nell and hope she would respond, the bathroom door opened.

For a second, a flood of relief hit him with dizzying force. There she was. Fine, it looked like, with a wide smile on her face.

That relief was followed just as quickly by an even stronger slam of disbelief.

He’d almost missed it. Almost missed the way she sniffed, the way she wiped at her nose, and the white powder that lingered just on the side.

She saw him too, and her careless smile fell.

“Scott . . .” Her voice was breathless and, worst of all, guilty.

“What the hell?” He shook his head. “What the hell were you doing in there?”

“I . . .” She blinked. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? I’m not blind, Nell. I just saw that.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. And Barrett knew he was right.

Without another word, for both their sakes, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back door, ignoring anyone trying to get his attention, not caring that they shied away when they saw the look on his face.

He didn’t look back at Nell because he didn’t trust himself if he did.

Didn’t trust himself to have enough control not to yell or not to forget it instantly. She made him unable to predict even himself.

He slammed the door open, leading them out into the freezing alleyway outside, a fresh layer of December snow already mixing with the dirty slush on the ground. He let go when the door shut heavily behind them and stared at the alley wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Finally, when he was calmer, he turned around.

Nell was staring at him, her eyes wide and dilated. When they met him, they darted away to the snow like a scared animal.

Barrett ran a hand down his face.

“Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

She remained silent for a long time. The snowflakes were heavy enough that Barrett could hear them hitting the top of her head, and he could watch them slowly melt into her hair.

It was almost romantic.

Almost.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” she muttered toward her feet.

Barrett laughed humorlessly. “Clearly. And yet, here we are. Why, Nell? Why would you do that? You know how I feel about that stuff. I specifically told you that.”

Her eyes shot up to his. “I know that. I just . . . I just need it sometimes, okay? But I’m okay, I promise. It helps with the stress, and I didn’t want to distract you right now. I’m fine. Really. I’m really fine. See?” She gestured to herself, laughing suddenly like he’d told her a joke.

Dots Barrett had never noticed appeared, and he finally connected them all. They’d been there the whole time.

The sudden bursts of energy. The extreme highs sandwiched between simmering lows. The wide, dilated eyes. The intense, screaming nightmares. The random nose bleeds. This whole time, he’d rationalized it all, never considering for a moment that she was doing cocaine.

Barrett covered his face with his hands, threw his head back, and groaned, mumbling curse after curse into his palms. “Oh my god. I’m so blind. I’m so stupid. Why the fuck didn’t I realize it?”

Nell’s small, soft hands covered his and pulled them away from his face, forcing him to look at her. She looked more relaxed than he felt. But he guessed that was the powder kicking in. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I’m good.”

Barrett pulled away. Probably for the first time ever.

“That’s the problem, Nell. It is a big deal to me, and you know that.”

She searched his face carefully, and the more she stared, the less relaxed she looked and the more her high seemed to be regressing. Her brows furrowed like she couldn’t understand something. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

Barrett sighed. “That just makes it so much worse. You lied to me, Nell.”

Nell seemed to understand now. Her hands shied away. “I’m sorry.” Tears welled.

For the first time, Barrett fought against his urge to reach out and hold her.

* * *

For the first time in weeks, Barrett and Nell slept in different beds, in different rooms.

He pretended to be asleep when the others arrived late at night, stumbling drunk and high, and ignored their confused whispers.

It was both a blessing and a curse the next morning when they drove home.

He didn’t have to play any shows while he was upset, but now he had to sit in a car with the others awkwardly looking between the two of them.

Then he had to go home and figure out what to do with himself when she was right there.

He couldn’t look at her as they drove the hour to Gemsburg. His hand itched to reach for hers, but he couldn’t. She, at least, did not reach for him because he didn’t trust himself to not immediately give into her.

He didn’t want to give in.

He was furious. At her, at himself.

How could she not tell him? How could she lie? How long had this been happening?

How had he not noticed?

He’d always had this image of her—pristine, sweet, and healing. He hated himself for holding her to this standard, to the point of not seeing her issues.

He’d thought she was happy, but she was just high.

Doubt circled everything now. Every kiss, every touch, every word.

Through highway hypnosis, he’d managed to drop everyone off and get him and Nell home without incident. Without exchanging any words through a very tense drive.

He walked in first, with Nell trailing behind him with her head down.

The house was silent with Ron out at work, and Barrett walked into his room, tossing his weekend bag to the side and falling down onto his bed. He threw his arm over his face.

Nell stood in his doorway. He could hear her shifting on her feet, unsure if she was welcome to enter or not.

He wondered if she would say anything or not.

“Do . . .” she finally mumbled. “Do you want to talk?”

He hated himself.

She spoke, and he was this close to sitting up and pulling her to him. Her voice almost melted him on the spot.

Almost.

“No.” He didn’t trust himself to take his arm off his face and look at her. “Not right now.”

There was a long moment of silence, followed by a soft sigh. “Later then. I’ll go take a shower.”

His bedroom door closed. He listened carefully to her soft footsteps treading down the hallway until the bathroom door closed. He waited for the shower to turn on before he sat up again.

At some point, he decided to check it.

He got up and walked to his dresser, pulling open the sock drawer.

He hadn’t touched his stash in a long time. Ever since stuff had picked up in Bellevue, he hadn’t needed to. The cash from there more than made up for what he’d been dealing in a small town like Gemsburg, and he’d been eager to drop it.

But the stash remained there. Untouched.

He shuffled through it, finding the tin lunch box and opening it up.

He dropped his head, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes as he cursed under his breath.

Every single little white baggie was gone.