Beyond the Stix (Warrior Black #2)

Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Connor

I eventually climb out of the bunk around noon and stretch, trying to get the kinks out of my back. I had no choice but to cubby it last night. Danny and Tobias took the main back room after Ron and Dean left for a more comfortable setting, while Rafe, Bobby and Callum crashed in the other room.

Last night when I climbed in—after imbibing way too much alcohol, I didn’t give two shits about whether I’d wake up with a stiff back. Even though it was an absolute blast hanging with everyone after the Friday night show, I had thought of John constantly. I couldn’t get the asshole out of my head, couldn’t stop wishing he was here with me.

Jesus, I have to face the fact that no matter how my heart feels, I can’t be with a man I can’t trust. Or one that can’t be truthful with me on any given matter. No amount of pondering, like I usually like to do with decisions, will change those facts.

Fortunately, we have a month before Warrior Black’s tour starts. That will give me time to be with my mother and begin to heal what’s left of my fucking heart. Jesus, I hope so.

After talking with Ron and Dante last night, they understood that I have to go home today. Tobias approved, so long as I knew that Pen has to come with me.

I got pissed, but reluctantly agreed.

Danny is awake now, too, and has joined me in the kitchenette. He, Rafe, and Bobby decided to stay until Sunday, but Callum already left early this morning with Dom to head to Boulder. Callum’s condo management called, informing him that his place was broken into. Of all the shitty luck.

A ping from my phone alerts me to a message from a number I’m not familiar with. It’s from Lee, who I learned is the tech specialist for Harper Security. He got Pen and me first-class tickets, which I appreciate. Though, the flight isn’t until this afternoon.

After confirming my flight, I sit next to Danny.

“Are you alright with all this—John?” Danny asks, passing me a cup of black coffee. A curl of steam wafts up, signaling it’s hot. However, the dark brew promises to hit all of my senses. I inhale the aroma before taking a slow sip—and my tastebuds thank me.

As the caffeine quickly filters into my system, I glance at my best friend and paste on a false smile. “Yeah. It wasn’t meant to be.” Then I drop my eyes to the cup and take another sip.

Danny laughs. “You can’t lie for shit. You’re in love with the man.”

My first genuine grin slides onto my face. “You know me well.”

“Things will work out, Con.”

Conflict wars within me at his comment. “We have too much friction between us—maybe I’m too much for him,” I confide in my friend. “At least I know we had chemistry.”

Danny snorts. “Chemistry isn’t the issue between you and John. It’s communication.”

I groan, and close my eyes. “You know me, I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest. Besides, I’ve had zero communication from him. It just proves he doesn’t want me, or what’s between us.”

“I know you’re pissed that he didn’t come to the concert, but I have a feeling he would have, if he could,” he says earnestly. “Con, you have to give him the chance. Talk to him.”

The pressure in my chest is too much, and I have to get it through my best friend’s head that I tried. “That was my plan. He’d come here. I’d yell at him. We would talk, then we’d make up.”

“Well, you did kick him out.”

“Thanks for throwing that back in my face, asshole. How many times do I have to repeat myself and admit that I made a mistake?”

“Sorry.” Danny reaches for my hand.

“You’re not sorry at all.” I swat his hand away, but a smile curves both our faces. “Anyway, John’s the least of my concerns. I want to go home and see Mom. I don’t think she’s doing well.”

“Give her a hug for me,” Danny says before taking another sip of his coffee.

Good. At least Danny understands that John’s a sore subject for me right now, and will be until I manage to get over my ex-bodyguard.

Pen, on the other hand, he doesn’t know when to shut up. He tries to talk to me the entire ride to the airport, through pre-check, and inside the ambassador lounge while we wait to board our flight.

Instead of arguing with the man, I pop my buds into my ears and turn up the volume, letting the music drown out his voice.

Right before we board, Pen gets a text from Tobias, while I call my mother. She picks up immediately.

“I’m on my way home.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her voice wobbly.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

With a quick sniffle she says, “Yes, Connor. Just missing your father. But I’m glad you’re coming home.”

“Me, too. But… I have some stuff I need to tell you.”

“Well, that sounds gloomy. What is it?”

“Not over the phone. Our flight lands around seven, so I should be there about eight,” I explain, feeling the knot in my sternum grow.

“I can pick?—”

“No, Mom. Pen got us a car.”

“Pen? John’s not coming?”

I inwardly wince. “No. He’s on a different job.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll set up the spare bedroom—and oh, I’ll make country fried steak. It’s your favorite,” she says sweetly.

“You don’t have to go through the trouble, Mom.”

“You’re my son. Besides, Pen loves it too.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it—Mom, I have to go, we’re ready to board.” I say, before adding, “Love you.”

“Love you, too. See you in a few,” she says before hanging up.

Pen and I settle in our seats, then he turns to me and asks, “What is your mother doing that I’ll appreciate?”

“She’s making country fried steak,” I explain with a shake of my head.

He rubs his hands together. “I love your mother’s steak.”

“That’s what she said.” Then I snort.

“Funny.”

“What did Tobias want?”

Pen stiffens a second in his seat, before he says, “He wanted to make sure we made it on the plane.”

He’s lying. I can tell. He’s not looking at me. One thing I’ve learned about being around our security team twenty-four seven, they are brutally honest. Especially Pen. When he is telling the truth, he stares you straight in the eyes. Right now? He’s studying the cell phone in his hand.

Could the text be about John? Is he okay?

Get a fucking grip, asshole. He doesn’t want you.

But I have to know. There’s only one person who will know and be willing to tell me. Danny.

I text him, asking if he knows what’s going on with Tobias’s text to Pen, but Danny doesn’t respond. He’s probably hanging with the guys and partying with the other bands. It is the last night of Rocktoberfest, after all. Realizing that, I don’t expect to get any response from him and stow my phone.

The flight to Chicago is uneventful, except for the mild turbulence when we hit rain near O’Hare. As Pen drives us home, I watch the rain outside the window. The slow drizzle coming down is a welcome sight. I love a rainy night, and wish I was in the tree house right now, enjoying the chilly October air.

When Pen pulls into the driveway, my mother is waiting for us on the stoop. I climb out of the car, and my mom greets me with a strong, welcome-home hug. God, I miss her hugs.

“Come in before we all look like drowned rats,” she says, tugging on my hand. “Pen, I have you set up in the spare bedroom.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wild,” Pen says as he places our bags by his feet.

“Oh, come on. Call me Amanda.” Mom taps his cheeks.

Pink floods the bodyguard’s face. He quickly picks up his bag and strides out of the entryway to the bedroom he’ll being sleeping in.

“You embarrassed him, Mom.” I chuckle.

“He’ll get over it. Come on. The food is getting cold.”

After Pen and I eat, he goes back to the spare bedroom, leaving my mother and me in the living room.

“Okay. What do you want to talk to me about, Connor?” she says, taking a seat on the love seat.

This is it.

I swallow past the ache in my throat, reach for her hand, and say, “It’s about Jessup.”

“What about your uncle?” Her fingers tighten around mine. “What did he do now?”

My eyes widen in surprise. “What made you say that?”

She shrugs slightly. “I know he’s been bothering you since your father…” She clears her throat. “Since then. I chalked it up to losing Markus. But I’m guessing there’s more.”

“There is.” With a calming breath, I continue. “Do you remember the night, when I was ten, and I got really sick?”

“How could I forget? You ran off and we couldn’t find you. Danny finally found you the next day in the tree house. Your father and I were beside ourselves with worry.”

“Well… That night, I lied about what really happened and why I ran away,” I say, feeling splintered down the middle at having to tell her the truth. My mother remains silent, but a single tear slips down her cheeks. “He touched me, Mom.”

Her watery eyes widen in shock, but there’s a split second of disbelief shadowing her face. “Are you sure?”

“I was confused for many years, not sure if I was imagining him touching me inappropriately. I confronted him on it, but he explained that I had wet the bed, and he was only cleaning me up. Like it was all a misunderstanding.” There’s glimmer of hope in her eyes, but I quickly squash it. “No, Mom. He later confirmed that he did touch me back then. And I have a feeling that night wasn’t the first time he had done it. He also told me that I’m his, always was, and always will be, before he groped my crotch.”

Her mouth drops open, but she quickly clamps her lips shut, like she’s afraid of what will come out. After several deep breaths, she finally says, “Your father said that Jessup was all healed from his issues .”

“Issues?” I reel back. “What issues?”

“Your father told me years ago that Jessup had to be hospitalized in his teens, and was diagnosed with a disorder that makes him obsessed with things. I can’t remember the name of it. But Markus didn’t make a big deal out of it, so I didn’t either.

“But when you came along, your uncle instantly loved you, always wanted to hold you—be near you. And still, I didn’t think anything about it. All the times you guys went camping. The sleepovers at our house.” Her voice cracks as more tears fall. “All the times we left you alone with him.”

“You can’t blame yourself.” I reach for her, but she shakes her head.

“We didn’t know, Connor—not me, or your father, not until after that night you took off. Your father told Jessup that he didn’t want him around you anymore. Markus used Jessup’s sexual orientation against him, and told him that he didn’t want that kind of influence around you.”

“But that was a lie,” I say, knowing where my mother is going with this.

“Yes. Your father never cared who loved who. It was your father’s way to keep you safe.”

“Then why after all this time, did Dad want Jessup back in our lives—asking me if he can bring him to one of my concerts?”

Mom looks me straight in the eyes. “Because that’s still his brother, Connor. He never stopped loving him. Now you’re an adult, with security around you, your father figured it was safe to bring his brother back.”

I release my mother’s hand and lean back against the sofa, as the truth hits me far harder than I realized. “So, you knew all this time.”

She shakes her head. “Not until the day of the funeral. I found a letter from Markus, telling me everything. Please, Connor. Your father loved you so much that he cast aside his only brother for you. But if he had known what bad things Jessup had done to you, your dad would have never asked him to come back.”

I couldn’t breathe—talk—or think, after my mother’s revelations. This whole time, my father knew what kind of man Jessup is.

“I’m sorry, Connor, that Jessup… touched you. If I had?—”

“Mom.” I hug my mother tight. “It’s nobody’s fault—certainly not yours, or Dad’s.”

“But still…” She burst into more tears.

“There’s one thing Dad got right,” I whisper to her.

“What is it?”

“I’m an adult and I do have security around me. I’m safe, Mom.” I hold her tighter.

“I’m glad.” She squeezes me, before stepping out of my arms. “I need to…”

“Me, too,” I reply with a sad smile. “I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, son.” She then heads off to her room.

“Is everything okay?” Pen peeks around the corner. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Thanks, and no it’s not, but it will be,” I admit. “Now I need some air. I’m going to the tree house.”

“Do you want me to come?” The frown on the bodyguard’s face has me chuckling.

“No. I think I’m safe for right now.” I leave Pen, and head out to the backyard. The rain has stopped, but the chill and the wetness penetrate my body.

Ignoring my slight shiver, I climb the ladder and push open the hatch. Thank Christ, Dad had waterproofed the roof, because the last thing I want to do is sit in a soggy bean bag chair.

“Crap.” I had forgotten that I busted the damn thing the last time I was in here.

I clamber through the opening and I’m about to close the hatch when the small battery-operated lamp I put on the tiny table years ago suddenly lights up.

My blood instantly freezes in my veins and all the air leaves my lungs as I stare at Jessup kneeling in the corner. “Hello, sweetheart.”