Blessed Tragedy

chapter Eighteen



When you live a traditional life with the normal comforts of life, breaking up is relatively easy. You gather anything that you'd left at the other person's house, say goodbye and you're done with it. Nothing about my life is traditional.

After Springfield, I wound up moving to the other bus for a few days, not able to sequester myself in the same small space as Colton for any amount of time. The hour we spent together preparing and on stage was too much some days.

Unfortunately, running away and hiding with the roadies wasn't a viable option either. I needed to be with my boys, the men who made me feel safe. And the insecure part of me worried they might see me as weak and immature and start planning to toss me on my ass if I stayed away too long.

Every morning, Colton sat across from me at the table as we ate in silence. With the summer schedule, most of our shows were during the day and he and I were the only two who'd started keeping “normal” hours, getting up in the morning and actually going to sleep at night. By the end of my first week back on the bus, I felt my resolve weakening. As much as I wanted to stay mad at him and hate him for what he said, the ache in my chest told me that would never be possible. Holding onto the negative feelings was slowly killing me.

“How's your dad doing?” He asked, finally breaking the silence on morning nine. I looked up, noticing how tired he looked. Apparently, I wasn't the only person not sleeping well. That knowledge didn't make me feel better.

“He's okay,” I shrugged. “They put him on some blood thinners and he isn't great, but he's better.” Mike said our dad resisted going to the doctor after I left, finally giving in when Mike and Matt reminded him that he owed it to me to go. He didn't owe me shit, but if that's what got him to see a cardiac specialist, I can live with that.

“Are you heading over there when we get to Comstock?” His voice was soft as he pushed the scrambled eggs around his plate.

“Planning on it, but I have to see when Mike can come and get me.” It was a three hour drive each way but we had four days off between shows and I wanted to spend as much of that time with Dad as possible. There was no amount of time that would make up for the years we didn't see one another and knowing his heart was weak, I couldn't pass up any opportunity, even if it was only a few hours.

“We can grab the bike as soon as we get there.”

“No, that's okay. Mike already said he'd drive over, I just have to find out when.” The last thing I wanted to do was press my body against Colton's for a three hour ride. Worse yet, that's exactly what I wanted to do. I'd never missed someone so much it physically hurt like this.

“Rain, that's ridiculous. It'll be cheaper on gas and I'll find a hotel somewhere until you're ready to come back.” How could he not see what a bad idea this was?

“I don't know, Colt. I just can't...” I needed to get away from him. As much as the dead air hurt, carrying on a conversation was unbearable. He'd torn my heart out with his words and still he wanted to take care of me. Having never been in this position before, I was unsure how to balance the conflicting emotions.

Colton threw his hands in the air. “Fine, suit yourself. I'm really not the a*shole you've conjured up in your mind.” I flinched as his plate crashed into the stainless steel sink.



Thanks to a well-timed text message, Mike pulled into the gravel parking area creating a tour bus encampment shortly after we arrived. I slumped into the passenger's seat before he could turn off the ignition. The clouds of dust kicked up by the tires seemed symbolic as I watched them build in the mirror.

The blessing and curse of being so much younger than my brother was that we still didn't have a super close relationship. It was a blessing because he didn't feel the need to pepper me with questions about my mood or why Colton wasn't coming home with me. The curse was I really wanted my big brother to wrap me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. Instead, we both stared out the windshield from Comstock to Lexington, sharing only the slightest pleasantries.

“How's Dad doing?” I asked, unable to take another minute to the divide between us. Communicating with my brother shouldn't be as hard as it is, especially since I felt like we'd made progress when I was home the last time.

“Better. You were right to push. We're all a bunch of stubborn ass men and we learned that from the master.” He reached across the console taking my hand in his. “Doc said he's lucky he hadn't keeled over on the floor before he went in. And he wouldn't have been so lucky if not for you.” I couldn't see Mike's eyes through the mirrored aviator sunglasses perched on his nose, but I could feel them boring into me as we sat at the only stoplight in town.

“Maybe I'm not the stupid little girl you all thought I was,” I said snottily. I knew it wasn't his fault I was in a mood, but it was easier to take it out on him than blow a gasket on the bus. He's my brother; he has to forgive me, right?

“Maddie, no one ever said you're stupid. Selfish, yes. But you already know that so there's no point going over it again.” I crossed my arms tightly over my chest at the reminder of the single word that often described me. “Moo, you're getting past that and I know it. But even you have to admit that you were. You were selfish and just as stubborn, if not more, than any of us guys.”

“What the hell is he doing here?” I snapped, seeing Garrett working in the front lawn with my dad.

Mike flinched at my harsh tone. “Um, I thought you two were friends. I told him you were coming home today and he came over to help Dad with some stuff.”

I shook my head. “No, it's fine. I was just surprised and didn't get much sleep last night. Sorry.” Even Garrett didn't know about the pictures or Colton's accusations that we were a couple. I could only hope whoever was the town busy-body with a direct line to Tanya wasn't lurking about.

“You sure? I can tell him to beat feet if it'll make you feel better.” Mike pulled my body close to his, giving me the comforting hug I wanted from him but couldn't ask for.

“Yeah, it's fine. I'm gonna head upstairs for a bit.” I walked up to my dad and Garrett, giving both of them hugs before excusing myself to get some sleep and a shower.



When I woke up from my nap, I could hear Matt, Mike and Garrett on the back deck talking about baseball. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail, dug out a t-shirt and denim shorts and made my way outside.

Much to my surprise, Matt stood from his seat as I opened the sliding door and gave me a tight hug. In all my life, I could count on two hands how many times he'd hugged me at all. He whispered thanks in my ear before setting me back on the ground and grabbing a microbrew out of the small cooler next to him.

The only available seat was next to Garrett so I sat down, not wanting to make things awkward with him too. I needed to find time to let him know what had been going on but it wouldn't be when the eldest Neumann boys were in earshot and Colton was within driving distance. We may not be the closest siblings in the world, but I had little doubt that being protective of their little sister was deeply seated in them.

At dinner time, Dad joined us outside and threw steaks on the gas grill. For as long as I could remember, his claim to fame, so to speak, was his prowess on the barbecue and I was looking forward to a tender, juicy steak with dill potatoes and a salad. It sure as hell beat the barbecued chicken I'd become accustomed to at most of our tour stops. It was easy to make in large batches and kept well in Nesco roasters, so it made sense. But chicken every flipping day gets old fast.

Dad still didn't look great, but there was no denying he looked worlds better than he had when I left the last time. His medicine was working and he was watching what he ate, most of the time. And even though he sat with us until long after the sun set, he never took a sip of alcohol. He'd never had a problem with it, mind you, but he did enjoy a snifter of brandy or a good bottle of beer from time to time. Eventually, he made his way inside, reminding my brothers to stay at the house if they kept drinking like they were. Both of them rolled their eyes and simultaneously agreed to the old man's request.



Too many beers to count later, I heard a familiar rumble in the distance. As the sound grew louder, I tried to tell myself there was no way it was what I thought, that I was imagining things in my half-drunken state. When the doorbell rang moments after the noise cut abruptly, I knew I was exactly right.

My body tensed and I looked to Garrett in a moment of panic. Regardless of what was reality, appearances told a different story. We weren't cozy on the loveseat on the patio, but we were comfortable sitting next to one another, laughing and brushing against one another casually.

“Trouble in paradise?” He whispered leaning close enough that Mike wouldn't hear him. Luckily, or unluckily depending on your perspective, Matt was on his way to the front door.

“More like the fifth circle of hell,” I replied, sliding myself to the other side of the seat. I wanted to race to the front of the house, burst through the door and shake Colton, asking him what part of 'I don't want you here' was so hard for him to understand, but that would raise too many questions.

“It's for you,” Matt said, returning to the patio alone. “I wasn't sure if you wanted him to see...” his voice trailed off as his eyes skittered between me and Garrett.

“Screw you, Matt. I can be friends with whoever I want.” I stood too quickly, nearly losing my balance. “I'll go talk to him. I don't know why he's even here,” I muttered, sliding the door open.

With a murderous look on my face, I met Colton in the darkness of the foyer. “Did you need something?” I asked bitterly.

“We need to talk,” he said moving closer to me. I dodged his hand as he reached for my arm.

“I'm trying to enjoy some time with my brothers, Colt. What's so important that it couldn't wait?” I pursed my lips, waiting for his feeble response.

“Rain, you're killing me. Can we please go outside and talk?” The pain I'd become accustomed to still veiled his normally piercing blue eyes.

“This really isn't a good time. Why did you come all the way out here? I told you to stay.” I wasn't about to give the man an inch. As soon as I did, he'd find a way to slink his way back into my heart.

“Please, baby. There's never a good time to talk to you. You won't talk around the guys. Now, you won't talk here, where no one can hear--”

His words were cut off by the scraping of the sliding door opening. His eyes grew wide in recognition before they filled with anger and loathing. “Guess I know why you didn't want me here,” he said through clenched teeth. “So much for nothing going on, huh?”

“F*ck you, it's not like that,” I barked louder than I wanted. Garrett was out of sight but I figured he was still close enough to hear every word echoing through the open space. “I told you before, he's a friend. That's it.”

“Yeah, a friend who you're here drinking with. A friend you went out with several times the last time you were here. A friend you've admitted had feelings for you.”

I stared at Colton trying to find the words to answer his subtle accusations. I shook my head, “And you really wonder why things didn't work? He's. A. Friend. Take a look at my life. The closest thing I have to a female friend is Angie and I barely know her. I get along better with guys. Whether you like it or not, that's a fact of life.”

“I should go,” he said, the anger seeping out of his pores.

I reached for his hand. Whether or not I wanted him here, there was no way I was going to let him drive back this late. “Come on. Have a beer with us. Who knows, you might even realize he's not a threat to you.” I put my hands on Colton's shoulders so I could look into his eyes. “You need to realize the only threat to us right now is you. You've known me long enough to know I don't do jealousy.”

His shoulders slumped forward. “You're right. But you've known me long enough to know I don't do girlfriends. You need to cut me a little slack here.”

I shook my head, “No, I can't do that. But let's not talk about that tonight. It'd be an understatement to say I've had too much to drink for heavy discussions.”

Colton made his way to the patio while I detoured to the restroom. Garrett was coming out of the room as I made my way through the dim hallway.

“Everything okay out there?” He asked, sincerely concerned.

“It might be some day.” I shrugged. “But do me a favor?”

“Anything, you know that.”

I gave Garrett the abbreviated version of everything that had happened the night we'd talked on the phone, leaving out a few of the worst comments. Once he'd calmed down a bit, I asked him to give me some space so the night wouldn't be any more strained than it was already going to be.

“This isn't like you,” he said almost imperceptibly shaking his head. “But if it's what you need, I'll do it.”



Although he said he didn't have a problem with my request, it took all of twenty minutes before Garrett was excusing himself with mumblings about work to do in the morning. Soon after, Matt stood to leave, promising to stop by after work. Mike sat, glassy eyed, in the chair across from us apparently deep in thought.

“Why did I drive six hours today if he was going to come out here?”

“Because she's pissed at me,” Colton blurted without pause. I could have killed him. Nothing like sticking my brother directly in the crossfire of our issues.

Mike laughed. “What did you do?” I wanted to stop the train wreck before my eyes, knowing there was little that could turn the night around at this point.

“Well...” Colton paused taking a long draw off his beer. “Don't get me wrong, she has every right to be upset, but damn Mike, your sister holds a grudge better than just about anyone I know.”

As if I wasn't sitting there, my brother and my ex-boyfriend were bonding over my less than admirable personality traits. After they had time to dissect my need to hold onto my anger, I'd had enough, “Hey, remember me?” I bellowed. “I'm right f*cking here. And Mike, you don't want to know why I'm pissed at him.”

Both of their heads turned in my direction, eager to hear what I had to say next. “He seems to think I'm screwing Dietrich. He thought that tonight, too. Oh, but not just Garrett, he accused me of f*cking Jon too.”

Colton grabbed my arm, pulling me back to the couch as I tried to flee. “I was f*cking drunk, Rain. How many times do I have to apologize? I was a jealous, miserable prick. I was wrong. I'm sorry.” He looked to Mike, silently pleading for him to intervene and tell me I was being unreasonable.

“Yeah, and most drunks I know are their most honest with a little bit of liquid courage.”

Mike sat back in his chair, savoring his beer with live entertainment. His eyes flitted back and forth as though he was watching a tennis match as Colton and I went over the same bullet points we'd covered every time we fought since that fateful night.

“Okay, you two,” Mike finally interrupted. “Colton, my sister is drunk now. So, given the fact that your problems all started because one of you shot off while under the influence, I think it's time to table this conversation. Why don't you come to my place for the night and you two can talk tomorrow. If I have to, I'll sit here and mediate because you're both in the wrong.”

I stared at Mike, my eyes ready to bulge out of my head. I was wrong? How in the hell was I wrong?

“No, he can stay here,” I said. It was totally the wrong thing to want, but I missed sleeping wrapped in his warmth.

My brother hugged me tight against his chest. “You'll thank me for this tomorrow,” he whispered to me before letting me go.

I blew out a sharp breath. “Whatever. I'm going to bed.” I turned to Colton, “I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow. Leave the bike here.” In the short time since he'd arrived, he sucked back four beers, just enough that I wasn't about to let him leave on his bike. No matter what signals my conflicted mind sent me, I didn't want to see him hurt by delayed reaction times or bad judgment.

“I'm fine,” he argued.

“Should I call Jon?” Yes, it sounded like I was getting ready to tattle on him but I knew Jon would talk some sense into him. Jon's brother had dumped his motorcycle before I was even in the band and had never recovered his short term memory. No way would he think Colt was in any shape to drive.

“Whatever.” As he stepped through the door, he turned back to me, “Might want to be careful, people might start to think you care.”

“Goodnight, Colton.”