Bullet (62 page)

Brad had gone to work the first Monday morning we were back, and Nick and
Zane were sleeping.  Ethan and I sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee.  He broke the silence.  “You were there the whole time, weren’t you?”

“What?”

“You never left the hospital room.  You stayed with me the whole time.”

I was strangely calm.  “Who told you?”

His smile was subtle.  “No one.  I just knew.”  He reached over to me and took my hand in his, much like I had his the week before when I was begging his comatose self to come back to me.  He squeezed it.  “I love you, Valerie Quinn.  You are…”  My breath was gone, and it was all I could do to just hang on.  “You are the music in my heart, the breath in my soul.  You
are
my reason to be here, my reason to stay.  My reason to live.”  I blinked.  I could barely believe what I was hearing.  He stroked my cheek with one of his hands.  He acted like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

My voice was soft.  “I love you too, Ethan.”  But I didn’t trust him enough to try again.  He’d hurt me so many times now, and I loved my own self enough to want to protect myself from the pain he’d learned to so easily inflict upon me.  But I didn’t know he was getting ready to pump a bullet into my heart
, one from which I wouldn’t be able to defend myself nor recover.

“Marry me.”

My breath was gone.  Where the fuck had
that
come from?  “What?”

“Marry me.  Val, I’m done with the shit.  I’m done with the drugs.”  I could maybe believe that.  He’d been in a rehab program since we’d returned.  He’d tossed out all his shit—not just liquor and any stray drugs hiding in his room but even paraphernalia.  So maybe I could believe he was telling the truth.  But what about…?  “And I’m done fucking around on you.  None of any of the other women I’ve ever been with would have done what you did.  Jesus, Val, when everyone else gave up, you were there.”

Oh, no.  I wasn’t going to have him believing that.  “No, Ethan, the guys never gave up on you.  They just made sure they got a shower once in a while.”

“It doesn’t matter.  You were
there
, babe.  You were there, holding my hand, talking to me, pulling me through.  You believed.”  His eyes searched mine.  “So marry me.”

I was finding it hard to breathe. 
“That’s no reason to get married.”

“You love me, right?”

I couldn’t find any words to answer him.  First of all, whether I believed him or not, whether I loved him or not, I didn’t know that I wanted to marry Ethan or even if it was a good idea.  Did I want to spend the rest of my life with this man?  He must have been able to read my hesitation, because he took my face in his hands.

“We don’t have to get married right away, Val.  There’s no law says we have to do it right now.  Just…”
  This was a turning point.  If I told him no right now when he was in this fragile state, it could very well send him running back to his self-medicating ways.  I could see it in his eyes.  Somehow I’d transformed from his so-called
muse
to being his entire fucking lifeline.  It was a huge responsibility, one I didn’t want but one that Ethan had thrust upon me without any regard for what I wanted.

Truth was I
did
love the man.  I knew that and he did too.  I had for a long time.  And even if I said yes, it didn’t mean I’d have to actually marry him down the line.  No…once he was strong and himself again, then, if I didn’t feel comfortable with the prospect, if I knew we weren’t ever going to make it, I could break it off.  For now, though, I was obligated…or I might as well have just stuck the needle in Ethan’s arm myself.

When I gave him an affirmation (I don’t remember if I said
yes
or
okay
or something entirely different), he took me in his arms and kissed me.  Yes.  I knew right then that I still loved him…more than I ever should have allowed myself to.

* * *

It was several weeks later, long after the secret was out, that Brad approached me on a Saturday morning.  “Let’s go to Starbucks.”

Part of me was thinking that—now that I was a woman engaged—it would be inappropriate, but there were two things that made me want to do it.  The first was that Brad and I were friends, first and foremost, and there was nothing Ethan could do to stop it.  Brad was
his
friend too, and I didn’t think Brad would intentionally hurt his friend, not when I clearly had chosen Ethan.  The second was that we had a lot to talk about, and we’d never had the opportunity.  If I told him no, not only would I be a Grade A Bitch, but I’d also destroy the trust and openness he and I had always shared.

I wasn’t about to do that to Brad, whether Ethan was my fiancé or not.

All the guys were still asleep, Ethan himself still in my bed.  So I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail and grabbed my purse.

I was finally working again, this time waiting tables at a café during the graveyard shift three nights a week, but Brad insisted upon buying.  “Mocha, right?”  I nodded
, and I missed what he got for himself, but it wasn’t anything fancy like mine.

We sat at a table outside in the warm sun.  I could tell it was going to get hot later
, but this early in the shade it was beautiful.  Brad slid his sunglasses back on.  I didn’t like that.  Brad telegraphed so much through his eyes, and I suspected he was putting his sunglasses on to hide from me.  It was bright outside too, but under that umbrella, it shouldn’t have bothered him so much.

He really was a gorgeous guy.  He was fully a man now, and—Ethan or not—I appreciated Brad’s beauty.  His hair was long now,
way past his shoulders, and his jaw was firm and strong.  His normally clean-shaven face had a shadow that made him look that much more attractive.  And his display of tattoos grew season by season.  I saw a new one, an arrow on his forearm, and I wondered what it meant.

But I wasn’t going to ask.

“Val, I don’t want you to feel bad, okay, but we need to talk.”

I nodded.  “Yeah, we do.”

“That night…did it mean anything to you?”

Oh, God, no.  No.  Why did he have to ask?  Why did he need to know?  I started clenching my jaw, trying to stop the tears from filling my eyes.
  But I knew Brad could sense it just by looking at me.  I blinked, hoping the tears wouldn’t come.  My voice cracked.  “Yes.”

He nodded.  God, I wanted to see his eyes.  But I wasn’t going to ask him to take his glasses off.  He swallowed and then sipped his coffee.  “Do you love him?”

Jesus Christ.  Why was he asking me all these things?  Was he trying to hurt me, hurt himself?  I couldn’t do this.  It was raw.  It was too much.  “Why?  Why do you want to know?”

His voice was calm, steady.  He let out a smooth breath.  “I
need
to know.”

“Why?”

He was at war with himself.  I could see that the part of him that was just my friend wanted to tell me everything, but the part of Brad that had made love to me just a few weeks ago was protecting himself.  He was vulnerable.  “If you love him, I’ll support your decision, and I’ll never say anything about that night again.  Ever.”  He took off his sunglasses and looked at me.  How he managed to make his eyes look so emotionless, I’ll never know.

“But if you tell me you don’t, I’ll fight for you.”

I sucked in a deep breath, because I suddenly felt like the star quarterback who’d just been tackled by the other team’s entire lineup.

I too was battling myself inside.  I couldn’t lie to Brad.  By the same token, if I told him the entire truth—that, yes, I loved Ethan, but I wasn’t sure where it was going to go—he’d do what I knew in the back of my mind he’d
already been doing.  He’d told me so long ago, when we’d first met and we both recognized that there was something inexplicable between us, that he would wait for me.  He would ride out whatever feelings I had for Ethan.  And I knew…right now I knew just looking in his eyes that if I was completely honest with him…if I told him the truth, that I didn’t feel like I could completely trust Ethan, that I couldn’t completely give myself over to Ethan, and that deep down I wondered if it would work…I knew he would continue to wait.  And that wouldn’t be fair.  It wouldn’t be fair to me, to Ethan…but, mostly, it wouldn’t be fair to Brad.  He deserved more.  He deserved better.  And I wasn’t going to do that to him.

So I had to tell him the truth, but I wasn’t going to tell him about my reservations.
  I swallowed.  “I love Ethan.”

He nodded.  Then he took a deep breath and a sip of coffee and looked out at Colfax Avenue where the cars were whizzing by, in a hurry to go somewhere.  He was quiet.  Really quiet.  And I dared not say a word.  I wasn’t going to make it worse by talking and saying something stupid and fucking insipid.  He had to sort through this
, and if his insides were only half as jumbled as mine, he was a mess.  He needed to process, didn’t need a stupid girl talking while he had to do that.

I rested my chin on my fist and just looked down at the metal table.  I wanted to stop being an adult now, but this was a mess I helped create
, and I needed to deal with it.  I just had to make sure I didn’t cry right now.

After several minutes, Brad said, “Thanks for being honest with me, Valerie.”  He took another deep breath and slid his sunglasses back on his face.  He stuck out his hand.  “Friends?”

I took his hand.  “Of course.  Forever.”

And I meant that.  Brad had been and would always be the best friend I’d ever had, and I was so grateful that wasn’t going to change now.

* * *

Several months passed
as Ethan eased into sobriety.  He was taking baby steps.  I wasn’t a part of his rehab, but he attended a couple of classes a week, and he had someone he could call when things got tough.  And, as Fully Automatic, we literally banded together, foregoing parties and drinking altogether in support of Ethan.

For a while, things betw
een Brad and me were stiff.  We’d made the pledge to be friends, but that didn’t mean it was easy on either of us, but for him in particular, I knew it had to be hard, and, frankly, I questioned my decision at times, but when I saw how strong Ethan was growing from day to day, and I saw the changes he was trying to make in his behaviors, I was glad I’d done it.

In November, both Brad and I heard from Clay.  Last Five Minutes had just wrapped up recording on their first studio CD, one they called Point of No Return, based on one of my favorite songs of theirs, now the title track.  That particular song was also being released as a single later that month along with their first video.
  Clay called one night, and we talked for a while.  I was excited and happy for them, and I told Clay that.  Of all the indie bands I’d met in the last couple of years, his band was one of the most deserving.

“So, how have
you
been, Val?”

“Oh, you know…not much has changed since I saw you last.”

“You seeing anybody?”  Oh…how could I tell him?  I couldn’t forget when he’d said he wanted to punch Ethan’s teeth out.  But I was too slow in forming the words.  “Okay…I guess the better question would be
who
are you seeing?”

I let out a breath.  God, I was transparent to everyone.  “Ethan and I are back together.”

He didn’t say anything at first.  His silence was damning…either that, or I was feeling guilty.  “You happy?”

I tried not to hesitate.  “Yeah.”

“Was it true—he was in a coma for a couple weeks when you guys were playing a show in Texas?”

How had he heard that?  Well, it didn’t matter.  “Yeah, it’s true.”

“Promise me, Val.  Promise me you’ll always choose yourself over Ethan’s bullshit.”

“Lot of faith you’ve got, Clay.”

“I have faith in
you
, Val.  But I also know what an asshole Ethan has been to you.  Sorry.  No offense.  I shouldn’t say shit.”

“It’s cool.”  But it was time to change the subject.  “What about you?  You seeing anyone?”

“Eh…no one worth mentioning.  When I told her she had a long way to go to live up to my last girlfriend, she got a little pissed.”

“Jesus, Clay.  I wonder why.”

He laughed.  “Heh.  She wasn’t talkin’ to Clay.  That was her first mistake.”

We talked and laughed for a while longer
, and when I hung up, I realized how easy our friendship had become.  I hoped Brad and I would eventually get back there too.  We had to.

Chapter Thirty-eight

THAT NEXT JANUARY, Brad booked a Winchester-Colorado Springs-Pueblo circuit so we could play a few places where we hadn’t been in a while.  It was also, I think, his way of helping me out.  He knew Ethan was pressuring me on actually starting to arrange details for a wedding, and the only way I’d do that was with my mom.  Due to our touring schedule, I’d only been home for a couple of days at both Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I’d spent time with Ethan’s family during the holidays too, so no planning had happened then.  It was just too busy.