Blessed Tragedy(32)

Colton rubbed his jaw, moving it from side to side to make sure it wasn't broken. His eyes fixed on a spot on the ground listening to everything Jon had to say to him. Seeing that Colton was finally calming down, I returned to our bedroom to get clothes for someone to take to the other bus. The simple action of putting the things he'd need into a small duffle bag brought me to tears. It felt like something much more ominous than a timeout for him to get the bourbon out of his system.



“Can I ask you a question?” Jon and I were walking back to the party, needing to get our minds off my apparently insanely jealous boyfriend. He'd never struck me as possessive and the realization had me wondering how much I didn't know about the man I shared a bed with.

“Sure.”

“What was on his phone?” I asked, knowing I wouldn't stop thinking about it until I knew.

“That's for him to tell you. Just not tonight.” Jon didn't look at me, making me wonder what, exactly, I was up against.

“Please, Jon. I'm asking as a friend here. He's obviously pissed about it and I'm the only one who doesn't know why.”

The thought of getting on our bus, of sleeping in the bed I'd shared with Colton since we started touring felt like a knife twisting in my heart. Knowing that, even if it was in a drunken stupor, he had so little faith in me that he accused me of sleeping with Jon killed me. And to know there was some other unknown transgression was even worse. Could we come back from this? Could he say anything to me to make it better? Could I ever trust that he had faith in us, no matter how many times he tried to tell me he was sure we'd work out?

“Hey Jon, I think I'm gonna grab Angie and take the Silverado up to Springfield tonight.” It was only about a four hour drive to our next stop and I had no desire to spend those hours on the bus. Not in the mood to deal bullshit accusations, I decided I'd ask our only female tech to ride with me. I needed someone to keep me awake and there was no chance I could be accused of screwing her.

“Probably not a bad plan. Get your stuff and hit the road. Once the coast is clear, I'll drag Colt's ass back to his bed.” The fact that Jon wasn't fighting me spoke volumes. Whatever was on Colton's phone was something major. Something that I wasn't going to be happy about. “And hey, when you get up there, get a suite so we can crash it when we get to town. I'd kill for a shower with water pressure right about now.”

Leave it to Jon to think of things like that. Our band was hanging by a thread tonight but he was still able to find the silver lining.





Chapter Seventeen



Too soon after I'd given in to sleep, the sound of fists pounding on our hotel suite door jolted me to life. Bleary eyed, I cracked the door open to see Jon, Travis, Jared and three roadies.

“What the f*ck, do you guys not sleep?” I moaned. I started plotting ways to seek revenge for them waking me before the sun was up.

“Not yet, figured you shouldn't be the only one to get a real bed.” With the hot and cold reception I'd been getting from Travis since my trip to see Dad, I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

“Where's Colton?” I asked, his absence worrying me, probably more than it should.

Jon was the only person, to my knowledge, that knew what had transpired last night. “Still sleeping it off. I left him a note to tell him where we are. Do you want me to get a second suite before he gets here?”

I knew what Jon was asking but I wasn't sure of the right answer. No, I wasn't ready to face him but I knew I had to. A second suite would make it easier because I could kick everyone out but I didn't want to waste the money either.

“Where are the rest of the rooms?” I asked, knowing the road crew would all have hotel rooms for tonight as well.

“They'll be downstairs, but not until late this afternoon. He'll come to life before then.”

“No, it'll be fine. I can't hide forever.”

Within the hour, everyone was showered and our hotel suite looked like a tragic accident with motionless bodies strewn about. Since I was obviously the only one who wasn't going to be getting any more sleep, I grabbed the keys to the Silverado and headed to the venue. If nothing else, I'd get to listen to some decent music and work on my tan.

I wasn't ready to deal with Colton yet and was happy to see he was still passed out when I stopped by the bus to throw my hair up and grab my shades and sunscreen. My luck ran out at the same time my foot hit the top stair to leave.

“Rain, is that you?” Colton's hoarse voice sent a shudder through my body.

I debated pretending like I hadn't heard him. I wanted to walk away. But no matter how much I didn't want to talk to him, the bigger part of me was desperate to know what was happening with us.

“Yeah, it's me.” I slumped onto the microfiber sofa, knowing I wasn't going anywhere for a while.

The air temporarily left my chest when Colt walked out of our bedroom. He looked like death warmed over. His blond hair was ratted, his eyes dull and outlined with dark circles. Even as upset as I was, it was impossible to not hurt for him.

“Where'd you go last night?” He asked sincerely.

“Angie and I drove up here and got the suite early,” I said, treading carefully. I wanted to see if Jon was right, if Colton had enough to drink that he didn't remember how much he hurt me. How much he hurt everyone.

“Why?” He rummaged through the cabinets trying to find the coffee.

My jaw dropped at his question. Even though I'd been prepared for him to not remember, I couldn't believe we were having this conversation.

“Can I see your phone?” It was a gamble, but I wanted to see how he would react to my request.

“Fuck, does this have to do with the picture?” He asked as if he truly believed I knew what he was talking about.

“The picture? What picture?”

Colton grabbed his phone from the bedroom and flopped onto the couch next to me, handing over his phone. “I need you to tell me it's not what I think,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. I was almost scared to look at the image once I saw the pain in his eyes.

What I saw wasn't at all what I expected. The first was a picture of me dancing with Garrett at the bar. The next was a picture of me with Garrett at the coffee shop. The last was the two of us having dinner in Lexington.

“Is this what last night was all about?” I asked in disbelief. Did he think Garrett and I were together while I was home? The thought of how much worse things would have been had I still been on the phone when he came on the bus hit hard.

“What am I supposed to think? Why didn't you tell me you and the band director spent that much time together while you were there? And why were you spending time with him at all?” Although he was calmer than last night, his tone was still accusatory.

“He was a friend of mine when we were younger. Mike invited him to the bar and we danced,” I said, showing him the first picture. “Then we went to dinner to talk about some shit that happened when I left town,” I continued, showing him the picture of us at dinner. “And the morning before I left, we met for coffee. It's something friends do when they don't see each other often.”

If I was going to have to continually justify my actions, there was no way I could stay with Colton. I had never done jealous or possessive well. He needed to understand Garrett was a friend, nothing more, and be okay with that.

“But why didn't you tell me?”

When I didn't have an answer for him, I started to wonder the same thing. Why didn't I tell him? We had always shared everything with one another. Or at least I thought we did. Knowing there were secrets between us was unsettling.

“It never really came up. And it's not like it was a big deal. Mike didn't know we'd been friends in school, so he didn't know I'd shit on Garrett when I bailed. He didn't know I'd slapped Garrett the morning of graduation because he kissed me in front of our entire graduating class, hoping I might change my mind about leaving.”

Colton turned his head to look at me for the first time since I started talking. “And that's supposed to make me feel better? Knowing that he kissed you?”

I reached for his hand. Yes, I was still pissed beyond belief, but something deep within me said this was worth fighting for, even if we were only fighting to salvage our friendship. “That was years ago. If it makes you feel better, he called me a selfish bitch later that day. And told me I was better than whatever I had convinced myself I had to run away to find. If I'd listened to him then, I wouldn't be here.”

While Colton digested the little bit I'd given him so far, I started the pot of coffee he'd abandoned. Two hours of sleep was going to make getting through the day a total bitch and I needed the caffeine.

“So, there's really nothing there?” He still sounded unsure.