A Stone in the Sea(72)

Cruz Gonzalez read through some reports, an outline of what had happened the night I’d completely come unhinged, the injuries incurred, my arrest, and my bail.

Jennings squirmed in indignation and hate as the night was relived. But there was no chance my hate wasn’t so much greater. My displeasure steadily grew, that aggressive coil tightening in my gut as Cruz Gonzalez took us on a play-by-play of that night, what had led up to the snap, the break in my mind that had thrown me over the edge.

It made it sound as if I’d rung the doorbell to Martin Jennings’s house without an inciting factor.

“There are no disputes on either party that your client, Sebastian Stone, was involved in the incident with Martin Jennings on the night of July 13?” Gonzalez asked.

Kenny gave a slight shake of his head, not needing to look to me for confirmation. I was there. I hadn’t denied it then. Wouldn’t now.

“And it’s agreed that monies are due to Mr. Jennings for his injuries?”

Kenny cast me a furtive glance, and I gave him a tight nod to proceed, as much as it fucking killed me to do it. He looked back at the mediator. “Yes. We agree that Mr. Jennings should be compensated financially for his injuries.”

“Currently, Mr. Jennings is seeking two million dollars…”

My mind got lost in a haze as I listened to Jennings’s bogus claims, the entitlement behind it. Of course, he was offering zero accountability on his part, unwilling to claim any blame, just an innocent asshole who got in the way of my fit of rage.

What bullshit.

Kenny cleared his throat. “We believe two million dollars is an unreasonable number and would consider a settlement that better reflects actual injuries sustained. Mr. Jennings lost only three days’ work, which in no way affected him significantly financially, and he has no lasting injuries. My client is willing to offer one hundred thousand dollars, which more than covers physical and emotional trauma.”

Jennings sneered in my direction, bypassing his attorney and the mediator, speaking directly to me. “You really think I’m going to let you get away with a hundred thousand dollars? After you had the nerve to show up at my house? Making demands of me?”

Feathers ruffled in a rustle of pure dismay, all the suits up in arms the second Jennings gave into the outburst that had been building since the second I walked through the door.

As if this could have possibly ended any other way.

Bad blood always boiled.

His attorney leaned in and whispered something severe in his ear.

Jennings just shook him off.

His attention was back on me, that same pompous expression lining every curve of his face. “Do you know who I am?”

Did I know who he was?

Money.

Arrogance.

Ego.

Pride.

I also knew he was one of the reasons Sunder was what it was today. He’s the one who’d spotted us in that small, dank, musty bar in Tennessee. The one who’d approached us. Fronted the money for our first real studio time. Gained us entrance through all the doors we needed to pass.

Yeah. I knew him.

But none of that counted anymore.

My voice narrowed in challenge. “What I want to know is why you were coming off our bus that night.”

“I wasn’t anywhere near your bus that night.”

I slammed my hand down on the table. “I saw you!”

Everyone had been backstage, hanging out after the show, letting loose the way we always did. I’d skated out back, crossed the darkened lot to the bus, needing to check on my little brother. After what happened to Mark, I’d finally dragged Austin to rehab, bribed my father to sign for him since he was still underage, forced my brother to stay there when all he wanted was to burn himself right into the ground. When he’d been discharged, I wanted to keep him near, but didn’t want him too close, because I couldn’t stand the thought of me being the reason he was exposed to the things that continued to tear up his life. If he was hanging out backstage, I knew he would.

So I’d told him stay on the bus. That fucking bus where I’d walked in to find Mark months before.

The same bus where I’d seen this asshole stealing out the door.

The same bus where I’d walked inside and found my baby brother just like I’d found Mark, overcome by the same shit I’d been trying to save both of them from. The same shit I’d dragged my best friend into in the first place, then my little brother had just followed suit.

Only this time, I hadn’t been too late.

Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between us, trying to catch up.

Only Kenny and Anthony knew what I was talking about. After Mark, we’d made the decision to keep Austin’s overdose quiet. I thought I was doing Austin a favor. Protecting him. Keeping the hounds like the ones who were hanging out downstairs from sniffing around in this kid’s life who’d suffered more grief than anyone should endure in a lifetime.