“Harley? What the hell?” I croaked.
“Ooops.” Harley grinned. “I just wanted a taste.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, Harley was jumping out of the shower and lunged towards the toilet. I held him as he threw up again and again until there was nothing left but bile. I got him showered, and then I called room service and had them bring some ginger ale while I put Harley to bed.
“Here, sip a little more for me.” I held the cup against his lips.
“It’s warm.” Harley’s nose twitched.
“Just sip.”
Harley did as he was told, and then lay back in bed. I made sure he was covered and then placed a wastebasket next to the bed. His eyelids drooped and he sighed heavily.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“Are you going to stand at the end of the bed all night?” Harley opened his eyes and stared at me.
“Yes. I am.”
“How come?”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“You’d be the only one.” Harley sighed and closed his eyes again.
“You know that’s not true,” I said quietly.
Harley was out cold, softly snoring. I sat on the edge of the bed and pushed his hair off his face. I’d been with the Skull Blasters band for a few months and had gotten to know each of the members pretty damn well, but Harley was a whole different story. He stood out from the rest of them from the second I met him. He was hurting on the inside, and for the first time in a long time, I was starting to have feelings. I sat for hours just watching him. I couldn’t help it. Harley whimpered in his sleep and tossed from side to side. I crawled in next to him and pulled him into my chest. He settled down immediately, snuggling into me.
Oh, this was so bad.
Chapter 1
Present day
Harley
The TV was blasting in the living room as I headed into the kitchen with the groceries I’d just bought for my parents. They were watching Wheel of Fortune or something like that. Neither one even acknowledged my presence as I walked right by them. Nothing new there. I could bring in the whole marching band from the school, along with a herd of elephants, and they wouldn’t bat an eyelash. I put the stuff away and then headed upstairs. I faltered on the last step as I noticed my older brother’s bedroom door was slightly ajar. That never happened; his room was a shrine. I took that last step and crossed to his door, opening it the rest of the way. Nothing was moved, everything was still in its place. My mother dusted in there every week and put everything back right where it had been, just in case he came home.
He wasn’t coming back home. Not ever, because Holden Payne had been killed in Afghanistan.
My heart ached as I ran my fingers across his desk. The picture of the two of us astride his Harley motorcycle was still sitting there. God, I missed Holden. Not that my parents had paid me any mind before he passed away. I had been the surprise. Even after my father’s vasectomy, I still made it through. Holden had made things … tolerable. We used to do stuff together. He took me places and always doted on me because he knew my parents didn’t even know I was alive. Should I have hated him for being their favorite? Maybe, but I didn’t. Holden was my mom and my dad blended into one.
Now I just felt alone.
I shut his door behind me as I left, and then wandered into my old room, which was now the sewing/workout room. Amazing how I paid off the house for my parents, paid their bills and bought the groceries, but I didn’t rate my own room.
Oh, that was right. I didn’t exist.
I’d moved out right after Holden died. Why stay? He wasn’t there anymore, and as much as I tried to convince my parents to move, to get away from the memories, they declined. I headed back to the living room. My parents were still watching their show. Pictures of Holden were scattered all over the room, from his childhood to his Army portrait. A neatly folded American flag in its oak case graced our fireplace mantel. Holden was everywhere, and I had to get out.
“Okay, I’m headed back to my house,” I said as loudly as I could.
I got a slight wave of my father’s hand, and that was it.
I hung my head and grabbed my jacket and keys off the table by the front door. It was almost Christmas and I was going to spend it with my Skull Blasters bandmates: Ransom Fox, his brother, Gareth Wolf, and Rebel Stryker. Oh, and with the bane of my existence -Achilles, the bodyguard from hell.
I was really missing Jinx Jett right now, but he was off with his boyfriend, Jayden Dempsey, on the London Boys tour. Jinx was our drummer, and a former man-whore. He’d met Jayden for the first time at a mall and had given him an autograph. The second time? Well, that story was a lot more interesting. They had met at a gay bar when Jinx had been trying out a glory hole for the first time. He had worked up the nerve to put his dick in. Jayden had been the receiver of said dick. The third time they met had been the clincher. Jayden was part of London Boys, a boy band, and Jinx totally hated boy bands. However, after spending two weeks together in California, Jinx and Jayden had gotten closer. Now they were in love.