Missing Dixie(72)

Music can seem complicated to people who don’t play it. Notes and chords, scales, choruses, rhythms, crescendos and such.

But it all comes down to one

simple

thing.

The beat.

If you can feel it, you are a part of it.

The beat has always been within me, in my heart. And with every beat I have loved Gavin, have wanted and needed him.

He is the beat of Leaving Amarillo. He is the heartbeat of my existence. And I will spend my life loving him with each and every beat of my heart.

My heart will forever beat in time with his until it no longer beats at all.

“Gavin, wait.”

My voice breaks the silent stillness of night and I watch him decide. He’s shrouded in darkness, surrounded by the shadow of Carl’s house. I knew he would come here, knew his mom would eventually pull him back in, just as Dallas predicted.

I glance over my shoulder at where my brother sits in the driver’s seat of EmmyLou, waiting for Gavin to decide.

Choose us, I plead silently. Choose the light.

I hold my hand out, stretching my arm as far as I can until my fingertips cross into darkness.

“I love you, Gavin,” I say to his frozen form before me. “I will love you in times of strength and in times of weakness. I love all the parts of you—the darkness and the light. And I will love you forever no matter what you decide.”

His eyes gleam in the glow of the lamp above.

“Blue . . .”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to explain. I can do the math. But here, now, Gavin, I need you to choose. I need you to pick me, pick the band, pick us, pick this path. I will love you forever. I choose you. But if you don’t choose me, here, now, I’ll have to love you enough to let you go.”

Tires squeal on pavement beside us, a beat-up blue Ford coming angrily to a halt mere feet from where Gavin stands.

Carl gets out wielding a baseball bat and Dallas is out of EmmyLou like a genie out of a bottle.

Carl’s quicker. “There you are, you little son of a bitch. Did you take my son? You and your little friend playing house, are you? Not so tough now, are you?” Carl turns to me and Gavin steps in between us.

“No,” I whisper quietly so that only Gavin can hear. “He’s not worth it. This is his property and he has a restraining order against you. Stop, Gav. Think.”

Another man gets out of the truck that Carl was in and sneers menacingly at us. This is how it happens. This is how people with bright futures end up in comas and wheelchairs and prison—one moment, one bad decision leads to them flushing their dreams down the toilet.

“Stay away from her,” Gavin calls out, walking closer to them and farther from me. “Stay away from my mom, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Liam.”

“Well her,” Carl calls out nodding toward me, “I could give a f*ck about. But your mom can’t seem to stay away from me, pretty boy. And Liam is my boy. You hear that, you little piano-playing bitch? My boy!”

I lung toward Gavin, barely catching him around the waist as Dallas wraps his arms behind his back. He’s ready to fight Carl, to throw everything away for this sad, pathetic man.

“Your mom has made her choices, man,” Dallas says quietly. “You need to make your own. Get in the truck and let’s go back to the Tavern. Now.”

Gavin doesn’t budge. My stomach is hollow and my heart aches for him. This is on him. I can’t save him from this. From himself. This time it has to be his choice.

“We’ll be in the truck,” I tell him in his ear. “You decide which you’d rather do. Spend a lifetime fighting lowlifes for your mom’s sake, or be with me, with us.”

Dallas gapes at me but I gesture for him to follow me to the truck.

“He has to choose, Dallas. We can’t force him into our world anymore. He has to come willingly.”

I kiss Gavin gently on the cheek. “I love you. All of you,” I whisper before walking away.

He stands tall and unflinching and I am dying inside.

Either way, something will end tonight.

I just don’t know what it will be.





30 | Gavin

I’M TORN BETWEEN two worlds, two opposite versions of myself.

They say man has two basic reactions: fight or flight.

For the first time in my life I’m choosing flight.

“Go to hell, Carl.” I glance up at his house. “No, wait, you’re already there.”

He glares at me and takes a step forward.

“Think long and hard about what you’re about to do. I have witnesses this time. Lots of them.”

The police I notified on my jog over from Kyung’s begin pulling up with sirens wailing.

Carl glances around and curses me under his breath.

“Have a nice life, Carl. By the way, I made sure to leave the front door open in invitation so they can tally up the many kilos of illegal narcotics you’re in possession of. Not to mention the underage girl inside. Take care now.”

Without a backward glance, I make my way to where Dixie stands next to EmmyLou.

“What about your mom?” she asks with wary eyes as I draw closer.

“I talked to Ashley. She’s going to see if my mom can get mandated rehab instead of prison time, but you were right about something.”