“And you want to save her?” I guess.
“It’s the kind of men we are,” he states as if we’re the same.
We aren’t.
He’s a much better man than I could ever imagine being. I don’t correct him though. He pulls up through my circle dirt drive and shifts the truck into park. I open the door, just as he does the same. Pausing, I turn to look over at him, surprised to see his door open as well.
“You need someone to walk through those doors with you,” he states.
“I do?” I ask.
He nods. “You were deep in your addiction when you left here the last time, right?”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. I was deep in my addiction and nobody knew. I hid it from everyone, even these men that I consider family. I’m a fraud. I hid myself away from everyone. Every single person that I know, personally and professionally.
“Trust me, you don’t want to walk into that place alone,” he states.
Without another word, I hop down from the lifted truck and walk toward the front door. This is a traditional style single story, with large pillars in the front, every square inch of the outside is done in a Texas limestone, except for windows and doors.
I love this place, it was the first thing that I bought when I made it big. It cost me almost two-million dollars, but it was worth every penny. Though, I haven’t really allowed anyone else to enjoy it, mostly because I was busy hiding from myself and the world while I was locked inside.
Shoving my key into the lock, I unlock the door and push it open. The first thing that I notice is the stench.
“What in the fuck?” I ask.
Louis walks up behind me. “When you’re deep in addiction, you forget to do things like take out the trash, throw trash away, do laundry or clean.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” I point out, turning my head to look back at him.
Louis dips his chin, then shakes his head a couple of times. “Just know, Beau.”
Chapter Four
BEAUMONT
It takes far too fucking long to clean my place up. Still smells like shit when we’re finished. I call the cleaning service that I’ve used in the past and pay quadruple their rates for an emergency, immediate, full team, complete cleanup. I can’t sleep in this place tonight if it still smells this bad.
“You ready to go to dinner, want to change?” Louis asks.
I look down at my now filthy t-shirt that is covered in mysterious liquids, dirt, and sweat. “I’ll change,” I say. “Be ready in five,” I call out as I jog toward the master bedroom.
Quickly, I strip down after I start the shower by turning the water on hot. Once it’s heated, I step inside, enjoying the way it scalds my skin. I wash my hair, soap my body and rinse off before I grab the last clean towel that I own and quickly dry off.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I make my way into the walk-in closet and go in search of something to wear. Most of my shit was lying in piles on the floor, so I don’t have much to choose from.
Luckily, my friends are all about casual. I know that the jeans and plain white t-shirt will fit right in with the rest of their clothes. That’s what I love about being here. This is home, this place is comfortable, I don’t have to hide all of me here.
Running my comb through my hair, I stare at my reflection for a moment. The hair on the sides of my head is still fairly short but down the middle it’s longer than I would normally wear it, showing the natural wave.
My beard is long as well, unkempt, but I can’t find the desire to trim, cut, or style my hair or beard.
Fuck.
I feel like I’m barely swimming with my head above water most days. My hair and beard have not been a priority, but maybe they should be. Then again, probably not. Turning away from my reflection, I head down the hall where I know my boots are by the front door.
Louis has his head dipped, his focus on his phone until he hears my feet padding against the floor.
“Ready?” I ask.
He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine and he nods once. “Just going to run to my house and change real quick on the way.”
I grimace at the sight of him. He looks about the same way that I did before I showered, grimy and dirty, covered in mysterious shit and sweat. I open my mouth to apologize but he holds up his hand, palm up.
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad that I was here to help.”
I dip my chin in a nod, not saying anything else as I watch him turn and walk out of my house. Following behind him, I glance back and wonder how in the fuck I could have lived like that. How could I have left my house in that state for almost a fucking year?
Climbing into the pickup, I look out at the rest of my fifty acres, wondering what else is a fucking mess out there that I have been too busy drowning myself in booze to pay attention to, to fix, to give a fuck about.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Beau,” Louis mutters.
My head turns quickly, my eyes finding his profile almost immediately. “How can I not?” I snap. “My granny would take a switch to my ass for livin’ like that,” I state.
He nods. “She might, but I doubt it.”
“Why?”
He shrugs a shoulder as he turns down his own dirt road which is just up the road from my place. “Because she’d know you were strugglin’ with your disease, Beaumont. When you love someone, you forgive a fuck’ve a lot of shit.”
“Yeah,” I say, not believing any of it.
I’m not sure how forgiving of a person I am. Not very, since I’m still not over what Chelle did to me. The way she played with my feelings, the way she made me worry about her, fight for her, search for her. The way she moved on and let me live in agony, believing that she’d been abused by the man she later married.
I don’t forgive her. I never will.
How can anyone ever forgive me? I wouldn’t.
Louis leaves me in the truck, or maybe I just decide to stay in it and stew about the bullshit that is my life. What’s fucking ridiculous is that my life isn’t really bullshit. People would literally kill for the life that I have. I’m an ungrateful piece of shit. I need to get over my goddamn self is what I need to do.
Louis is back in the truck minutes later, refreshed and clean just like me. “You know the girls are dying to see you,” he mentions.
“I hope they aren’t disappointed. I’m still just me,” I chuckle.
Louis reaches across the truck and pushes my head in a brotherly type move. We both laugh and the sour mood that I had quickly fades. I’m excited to see the baby, excited to meet Exeter and to have a calm evening with people that I love.
I haven’t really been around people other than in rehab several months ago. I need to socialize again. I need to stop getting lost inside of my head. I need to feel fucking human.
Maybe the tour wasn’t such a bad idea. It will get me out, get me moving and hopefully I’ll be able to focus on my music, old and new. The downside is that every goddamn after-party is full of booze.
Every. Single. One.
That temptation is going to be hard to fight, but I have to, for myself.
HUTTON
I bite the corner of my lip as I watch the clock. Channing and her friend, Exeter, are going to be here in just a few minutes. This concert has snuck up on me. I thought that I had more time to mentally prepare for it, more time to stress out about it and think of excuses not to go.