Pieces of You(35)

I’ll have to work on this later; these are just the bones. The only song I ever wrote that I never changed a word—and it shows—is “Relentless.” I wrote it in a hotel room in L.A. when we were almost done recording the album. When I played it for the producer he insisted we add it to the album and make it the title track. It took less than an hour to get down the lyrics and the basic melody for “Relentless” and it’s still the one song that gets me the most love from the fans. Maybe people prefer their art a little raw.

As soon as Jake and Rachel arrive, we get to work on an upbeat track that’s supposed to be the first single released from the next album, tentatively titled Chris Knight. Jake and Rachel wrote the lyrics for this song—“Highway 99”—about falling for the wrong girl and how exciting it is to go to their secret hideaway off Highway 99. Now that I’m in this fucked up situation with Claire, I hate this song.

“Is Tristan ever going to show the fuck up?” I ask.

As much as I love Tristan, he’s unreliable as hell. His sex life always gets him in some kind of drama that keeps him from showing up to practice sessions. Technically, Tristan is easily replaceable now that I’m considered a solo act, and the shit that happened with Claire’s boyfriend hasn’t made things better. But so many of our old fans, the ones who followed Blue Knights from the beginning, go to the shows just to see him. And he’s still my oldest friend.

“I’ll text him,” Jake says, grabbing his phone off the coffee table.

Since my mom refuses to allow Jake to set up a drum set in her house—the way we used to have it before I went solo—Jake is just here to hang out and watch. Without Tristan here, this practice session is a big fucking waste of time.

Tristan never responds to Jake’s text and finally, after my eighth time quitting at the bridge, Jake groans.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” he asks. “The bridge starts on C7.”

I shake my head as I drop the guitar onto the wood floor and one of the pins pops out. “Fuck this song.”

Rachel glares at me through her icy blue eyes, which are partially obscured by her bangs. “Did something happen with Claire?”

I storm into the kitchen and grab the key for my bike off the hook. “I don’t want a fucking lecture.”

“You’d better not drink if you’re taking the bike. Don’t be a fucking asshole!” she yells as I open the door to the attached garage.

I slam the door behind me then hit the button for the door opener. The garage door rolls open and I’m pleased to see the sun has almost set. I hop onto my bike and kick the stand back. I’m already pulling my bike out of the cul-de-sac by the time Jake makes it out to the driveway.





Chapter Sixteen





Claire




THE BUZZING NOISE BREAKS ME out of my trance and it takes a moment before I realize it’s my phone vibrating on my nightstand. I reach for the phone and see I have four missed calls. I must have been really out of it this time. Until now, I hadn’t meditated since yesterday morning.

All the missed calls are from an unknown number with a Raleigh area code. I debate ignoring the calls to continue my meditation, but the number of missed calls gives me an uneasy feeling.

“Who is it?” Senia asks from where she’s lying on her bed studying for a biochem exam.

I shrug then call the number. Someone picks up right away.

“Claire?”

It’s Jackie and she sounds frantic.

“Jackie? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my Lord. I left my phone at the shop. I’ve been calling you from Rachel’s phone. I didn’t think you would ever call back.”

“Jackie, what’s happened?”

“Claire, honey, I’m at the hospital. Chris had an accident.”

“An accident? What kind of accident?” My heart pounds as that uneasy feeling transforms into panic.

“Who had an accident?” Senia whispers.

“On his bike,” Jackie replies. “We’re at WakeMed.”

Just hearing the word WakeMed makes me want to vomit. I haven’t been there since I had Abigail five months ago. Jackie doesn’t know anything about Abigail.

“Claire? Are you still there?”

“Yes. I’m here. I’ll… I’ll be there in an hour.”

I’m shaking so hard as I pull on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt.

Senia grabs my hand as I reach for my car keys on the nightstand. “I’ll drive.”

“Drive fast, please.”

The whole forty-minute drive there, I keep imagining all the worst scenarios: he’s missing a leg, he’s in a coma, he’s on life support… or worse. Senia attempts to distract me with music, but I can’t stop my mind from wandering to the darkest places.