Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (3 page)

We have to check out
of our hotel when we get back from the radio station, since we’ll roll out to
our next stop immediately after tonight’s show. We’re supposed to be in New
Orleans tomorrow night, so I know they’re going to want to move as soon as
possible. Our tour manager, Kenneth, runs a tight ship. Even I’m afraid of him.

Casey and Callie leave
right away for Molly’s house to reconnect with some of his family and friends.
After what happened last night, there’s no way I’d survive that, so I turn down
the offer. I know Callie understands and let her soothe Casey who whines until
they’re out of earshot at least. I feel badly, but I just can’t put myself in
that situation right now. It’s hard enough being home without shoving memories
into the open wounds. I don’t really feel like doing anything
else,
so I hang out in my room as long as possible and then
decide to retire to the bus for a while. Eli and Sweeny had left an hour ago
after jabbering all morning about some new bar they wanted to check out, and
I’m lured by the thought of an empty bus.

I’m surprised to see
the door already open as I approach with my suitcase. I guess I was wrong about
Eli and Sweeny and am actually disappointed they changed their minds. Still, it’s
their house as much as mine, so I brace myself for a blast of energy and climb
the stairs.

I stop cold.

“Luke! Oh, um…hi. I’m
sorry, Callie said…”

I force a smile and
wave my hand. “No, it’s fine, don’t get up,” I say.

Shit. I can’t retreat
now.

Holland returns my
smile with a stiff one
of her own,
but straightens on
the couch anyway. She’d been writing something in a notebook and closes it as
discreetly as possible.
Clearly, not discreetly enough.

“Really, it’s fine. I
just didn’t feel like going out and was planning to watch a movie or something
in the back to rest before tonight,” I say moving through the open partition
into the living area where she’d been reclined. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

She seems conflicted.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m on your bus when I have my own.”

I smile again and
shake my head. “If your band is anything like mine, I’m pretty sure I can
guess.”

This time her smile is
warmer than any of the others I’ve gotten so far. God, it’s breathtaking.

“I love them dearly. I
do, but sometimes…you just need a break, you know? And Callie said she was pretty
sure yours would be empty since you all were going out.”

“Like I said, it makes
sense. It’s fine. I’ll stay out of your way. Stay as long as you want. They
keep the fridge well-stocked, too, so help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

She’s watching me
again. Studying my every move. Evaluating. I’m pretty sure I’ll fail, but
there’s nothing I can do.

“I’m just
gonna
grab the key to the luggage bay to load my stuff.”

I move to the drawer
where we keep the key and can feel her gaze burning a hole in my back. I want
to say something, to just get it out there, but I know that whatever it is
could make things a hundred times worse. We have a long tour ahead of us and
I’ve done a lot of terrible things.

“Mind if I peek in on
your set tonight? Callie won’t stop talking about how great it was,” I toss
casually, trying to dispel the awkwardness as I search through the junk drawer.
Where is that damn key? And where did all these stupid rubber bands come from?

“Really? Yeah, of
course! That would be awesome. You guys killed it last night. Is it good to be
back?”

I swallow. She’s just
being polite.

“It’s great. I missed
the music,” I manage in a steady voice.

Finally! I grab the
key and offer a quick smile as I turn around. “Just
gonna
load up. I’ll be back,” I explain. She nods and returns to her notebook.

My heart is pounding
as I step off the bus and I have no idea why. Is it because of her question? Is
it because she got close to a wound? Or is it her. There’s something about her.
I suspect she hates me for some reason and yet she’s never been rude. Callie
immediately clicked with her so I know she’s incredible. I’m just so confused
at the moment, and if I had any other choice, I would not go back to face her,
but it’s too late. I already said I’d be returning. I’d look ridiculous if I
just disappeared now. Plus, I have to return the key. That damn key!

I load my suitcase
with the rest of the luggage and relock the luggage bay. I force myself to
convert my death march into something less absurd and begin climbing the stairs
again. She’s an attractive, confident woman
;
so what?
I’ve dealt with countless of them over the course of my life, but maybe that’s
the problem.

“You writing?” I ask, and
nearly flinch at the stupid question.

A small smile flickers
across her lips and I know she’s thinking the same thing. She looks adorable as
she bites the edge of her pen and looks up at me. “Yep,” she says through her
clenched teeth, still smiling.

I return it and shake
my head with a shy grin. “Sorry, I know. Just making conversation, I guess. Ok,
I’ll leave you alone.”

I start moving past
her toward the back.

“Luke, wait!” she
calls.

Surprised, I stop and
turn. Her eyes have changed a bit. The amusement is gone, and I brace myself once
more.

“Look, I’ll just say
this, ok? I know it’s awkward, but we have a long tour and will be spending
lots of time together. I don’t want drama in my life, ok?”

I stare at her. I have
no idea what that means. “Um, ok. I don’t either,” I reply.

She’s fishing for
words. “I just mean…Crap!” She covers her face, clearly embarrassed all of a
sudden. “Wow, ok, you know what? I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just
say things sometimes.” She shakes her head, and I swear she’s blushing.

“Holland, I’m so lost
right now,” I confess, staring at her with what I’m sure is a baffled
expression.

She laughs
dismissively. “No, I know. I…can we just pretend I didn’t say anything?”

“Um…”

“Yeah, ok, so I should
just go. Thanks for letting me use your bus. I’ll just go to my dressing room
or something.”

After giving me
another weak smile, she’s gone.

I stare after her,
totally confused by her strange behavior. I have no clue what she was talking
about, what drama is concerning her. She didn’t seem angry, just sincere in her
determination to avoid whatever
it
is. Or could be. Or was? What could I have done that would cause someone to
fear me without being angry? I swallow, feeling even more uncertain, more
insecure. I’m tired of hurting people, and the thought that I’m still hurting them
without even trying is hard for me to accept. Just my very presence is a
cancer, apparently. Dammit. Trigger.

I close my eyes and
lean against the partition to the sleeping area. I’m not a cancer. I’m just…I
don’t know yet, but not that. Not anymore. I draw in a deep breath and continue
on to the back of the bus in a disturbed silence.

∞∞∞

Time alone with myself is uncomfortable at
best, and after only a few distracted minutes of staring at the screen, I know
I’m not where I belong. My encounter with Holland is only a small fraction of
the weight on my conscience. There’s a much bigger burden that’s haunted me
since the second we pulled into Houston, and the fact that I’ve been trying to
deny it with lame excuses has only been feeding the monster. There’s something
else I have to do while I’m home, one more conversation that needs to be had,
and I can’t fight it anymore.

It’s a bit of a drive
to the large suburb outside the city but the cab driver promises he’ll wait for
me. I leave him at the curb by the ornate
iron gate
,
and he gives me a somber nod as I take the first tentative steps toward it. Drawing
in a deep breath, I glance up at the imposing arch and force my feet to comply
with my heart.

My lungs are heavy and
my progress slows as the distance shrinks. I can barely breathe, the smell of
freshly cut grass mocking me with the scent of life in this place of death.
It’s a frightening maze, but I know exactly where to go even though I’ve only
been here three times.

That
first time.
The day I can hardly remember. It should be ingrained in my head, a nightmare
that haunts me every time I close my eyes, but it’s not. It’s just a shadow,
lurking in the darkest reaches of my thoughts, reminding me of how far I’d fallen
and would have yet to fall.

Then,
the second time.
The day I almost killed Casey and ruined his life too. The day we lost
consciousness beside the shiny stone monument and woke up to a firestorm of
press releases and irate Label execs.

And
the third.
The day I’d determined to join her.

I freeze when I reach
my destination, unable to move as I stare at the stunning headstone. I hate
that it’s so fresh, so new, that in this sea of stone and statues, this one is
the most beautiful to me. The tears are gathering now as I finally have the
courage to kneel down and face her. To say I’m sorry. To finally make promises
I will keep.

In loving memory of Elena Barrett Craven

Wife, Daughter, Sister

A sob echoes through
the silence, cutting off the distant sound of birds and insects. It’s mine, I
know, but I’m afraid I’m not ready for it.

I reach out my hand
and grip the stone, letting the chill of death seep into my fingers.

Wife, Daughter, Sister.

First love.
Inspiration. Victim.

I close my eyes, the
hot liquid searing my cheeks and staining my t-shirt. I rest my head on my
hands as the late summer breeze rustles the trees, reminding me of the
impossible distance that separates us.
So much life in the
presence of death.
But it’s time. I need this. She deserves this. After
a long pause, I draw in a deep breath, finally letting the door to her memory crash
open.

Her face. Her hair.
Her smell. The way her laugh made you
want
to hold her
forever. Her eyes, and that first time she looked at me as though she couldn’t
live without me.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie.”
I whisper. “I love you. I love you so much. I should have been there. I’m so
sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The tears are hers
now, seeping into the ground, and I find myself praying they’ll come to rest
with her somehow. I know it’s absurd, but I don’t have anything left to give
her. I want her to have that. I need her to accept them.

I forget about time,
collapsed against her, completely paralyzed. I know it’s getting late. I know
there’s another world waiting for me, but I just can’t let her go again now
that I’ve finally come back to her. I don’t think I’m sobbing anymore, but the
tears are still slipping down my cheeks, soaking my arms as I hold on.

But it’s not her. It’s
not Ellie. It’s just a cold chunk of rock on a pile of grass, and deep down I
know I don’t belong here. Not yet, anyway. What’s left of her is the ghost in
my head, in my heart, and I start to understand. I finally get it. This hope,
this budding strength, this overwhelming sense of
who
she still is because of who she was. I may have failed her then, but she won’t
fail me now. I finally believe.

I can get up. I can
still live.

I can move on without
letting go.

∞∞∞

It’s a long time before I’m able to return to
the venue, let alone the buses. I feel the pressure of the clock and know
they’ll be looking for me, but I have the cab driver drop me off a good mile
away so I can recalibrate my head with a walk.

I eventually make my
way to the dressing room to prepare for the show and grab a snack there to avoid
any awkward encounters in catering. In fact, somehow I manage to stay hidden almost
completely, other than a few interactions with our stage manager and crew. My discreet
return is so successful I’m even able to startle Callie with a gentle poke as she
watches Limelight perform from backstage. She jumps and spins, then breaks into
a giant grin when she sees me.

“There you are!
Everyone’s been looking for you. You here to watch Holland?”

I nod. “I told her I’d
check them out.”

“She’ll love that!
Limelight’s really good too. You should try to catch their show tomorrow.
Jesse’s voice is amazing! They’re
gonna
be huge. Have you talked to him? He’s actually a really cool guy. Casey said he
worked in a warehouse to support himself until booking this tour!”

I love her enthusiasm.
I’m pretty sure I’ll never tire of watching her get excited about life. “No
kidding,” I say, focusing back on the action on stage. She’s right. His voice
is sick, their energy and sound
well-beyond
their
years and experience. They’re going to be a big deal one day, and I can almost
feel a small spark of excitement at the memory of what that jump was like for
me.