Tone Deaf(42)

I blink a couple times, clearing my eyes of sleep, and find that I’m looking at Ali. She’s snuggled into me, her head resting on my chest, her arms tangled around my neck. This is weird. Really, really freaking weird. When I sleep with girls, I don’t sleep with them. We don’t cuddle or snuggle.

But now I’m wondering why I’ve never done this before. Ali’s arms feel good wrapped around me, and her weight on my chest makes me feel secure and even a little protective. The steady rhythm of her breathing threatens to lull me back to sleep.

I’m about to drift off when I hear the hum of a vibrating cell phone. Shit. I must have left mine in my room. I groan, knowing I’m going to have to get up and answer it, or else someone is likely to come barging in here and find us together.

I carefully extract myself from the couch, moving slowly so I don’t wake Ali up, and head to my bedroom. Cuddles scratches at the bathroom door as I pass, and I open it, letting her out. She shoots me an offended glance and stalks off toward the kitchen, probably so she can curl up on her doggy bed and mope. I shake my head and make a mental reminder to take her on a long run later. If I don’t, she’ll get upset and chew on stuff. Stupid dog. Or maybe it’s me who’s stupid for liking her so damn much.

I shove open my bedroom door just as my cell phone goes off again. I snatch it from my nightstand, and a new message blinks on the screen:

Jace??? Answer!!

It’s from Killer, and there’s another notification at the bottom of the screen: Fifteen Unread Messages. Wonderful. Only the band and Tony have this number, which means someone I actually give a crap about is having some sort of panic attack. And there’s nothing to panic about, unless . . . unless someone saw Ali on the news last night.

Shit.

I open the message inbox and read over the newest texts near the top, mumbling curses under my breath as I scan over them. There are more messages from Killer, and Jon and Arrow, too.

You see the news?

ur chick is nutso

We have a maaaajor problem.

cops r after her

Nevermind. YOU have a maaaajor problem.

U brought a crazy chick on tour? What the hell is ur issue????

When I reach the last one, I hesitantly start typing a reply to all. What am I even supposed to say? Everything’s fine, Ali didn’t actually lie about anything, she’s not crazy, and I slept with her last night. But not that kind of sleeping, so don’t worry. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over very well . . .

I rub my face, trying to think of a reasonable response, when someone knocks on the front door. Actually, it’s more of a frantic bang, and I know it’s Arrow. The dude sounds like a cannon when he knocks, especially if he’s pissed.

“Just a sec!”

I grab a T-shirt off my floor and shrug it on, yanking at the hem harder than I need to. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I take a deep breath, trying—and failing—to relax. Another bang echoes down the hall, and Arrow’s muffled voice calls out something that’s royally pissed. I roll my eyes and grab a pair of jeans out of a drawer, pulling them on and immediately hating them. Back home in Denver, jeans are always a welcome barrier against the cold. Here in the Southwest, they’re just annoyingly hot and really not improving my mood.

I jog to the front door, throwing it open and making sure my scowl is obvious, even though it lost its effect on Arrow years ago. He stands on the doorstep, his hands interlaced behind his neck, his foot tapping out a nervous rhythm. Behind him, the sun rises over the desert horizon, making me squint. What’s Arrow doing here so early, anyway? It’s like six o’clock, and definitely not the right time for a confrontation.

Arrow nods to the open door. “Can I come in?”

I close it just a little, so only my face shows. “No. Ali’s sleeping.”

Arrow shoves past me, clearly not giving a shit about my excuse. I cuss at him, but don’t put up a struggle as he barges into the RV and heads for my bedroom. Arrow flops down on my messy bed and throws one arm over his face, leaving me to stand in the doorway.

“Dude,” he grumbles, “why the hell weren’t you answering your phone?”

“I didn’t hear it go off until a minute ago.”

He grunts. “Did you see my message?”

“I just read it.”

“And?”

“And what?”

He abruptly sits up and pins me with a glare. “And I told you so. I told you there’d be issues if you brought that girl along. And now look at the mess you’re in. We’re in the middle of a tour, and you’ve got a psycho in your RV that half the country is now looking for!”

“She’s not psycho,” I hiss.

Arrow scoffs. “What sob story did she tell you to make you believe that?”

“It wasn’t a sob story. And I don’t have the right to just spill everything she told me.”

Arrow shakes his head and throws his hands up in disbelief. “Seriously, Jace? We don’t keep secrets from each other. That’s rule number one, and you know it.”

“No, that’s not rule number one,” I snap. “Rule number one is that we trust each other. And, right now, I need you to trust me, okay? She’s not a liar. She has a severely abusive father and some really shitty luck. She deserves my help. Our help. And you can’t just walk away from her.” Arrow has always been my right-hand man, and he can’t just ditch me like this.