Mark rocked, his mood suddenly shifting. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked away. “I got myself in deep, man…with some bad people. Some really bad, fucked-up people. Not sure how the hell I’m going to get myself out of it.”
A slow dread seeped across Zee’s skin. “What do you mean, got yourself in deep?”
“Means I know shit I shouldn’t.”
Fear prickled across Zee’s flesh, this burning, freezing cold. “What do you know, man? Tell me…we’ll figure it out. Just like we always have.”
Mark’s chuckle was dismissive. “Didn’t come over here to get you involved, Zee. No way am I getting you anywhere near that kind of trouble. I got myself into this mess…now I need to figure out how to get myself out of it. I just needed you to know…in case something went down…that I love you. That no matter what happens, you’ll always be the person in this world who means the most to me.”
Zee could barely breathe beneath the disturbance that seethed in his chest. “You’re scaring me, man. Tell me what the hell is going on.”
Mark grinned. Zee knew it was forced. “It’s nothing, little brother. Just needed to get it off my chest. Put it out in the open. Now that I said it aloud, I’m pretty sure I’m just being paranoid.” He scratched at his forearm, eyes glancing to the marks imprinted there. “Mixing all this shit will do that to you, you know. Either way, it’s all on me.”
“Mark, come on. Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s going on.”
Instead of settling in, Mark suddenly stood and smacked his hands together, no joy in his too-wide smile. “What I should do is get the hell out of here before Julie comes out here with a broom to run me off.”
“Dude, she’s not that bad.”
Mark laughed. “Oh, I know, brother. I think the girl just knows a rat when she sees one.”
Regret pulled tight across Zee’s ribs. He pushed to his feet, beating down the need to demand that his brother tell him what he was talking about. Chances were, Mark was right. He was just overreacting.
Besides, they had a bigger issue to tackle.
“I’ll talk to Julie, Mark. Honestly, I fucking hate this wedge between us. I miss you. Maybe you can make that U-turn. Get back to who you used to be.”
“That’s the hope, isn’t it?”
Zee followed Mark back through the small living room of the apartment, stepping out behind him and onto the front stoop. The second they were out there, Mark flew around and pulled Zee into a hug. He squeezed him like he didn’t want to let go. “You turned into a good man, Zee. A fucking good man. Don’t let anything or anyone ever change that.”
Zee hugged his brother tighter. Hoping he could feel it.
Love.
Belief.
Hope.
“Take care of yourself, brother.”
Mark nodded. “Yeah.”
Julie slowly stood from the couch when Zee stepped back inside and locked the door behind him. Her voice trembled. “What was he doing here? You promised.”
Zee turned to look at her, stricken by grief and hope. “He’s my brother, Julie. Love doesn’t give up that easily. I don’t know that I have it in me to choose.”
He knew she was hurting and scared. She rubbed both hands over her arms as if she were trying to keep herself warm. “I…I have a horrible feeling about this, Zee. I don’t want you to have to choose, but if you don’t, my gut tells me I’m the one who’s going to lose.”
“I can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist.” His voice was pleading, and he erased the space between them and pulled her into his arms. She sagged against him, her knees weak. “Please don’t make me choose,” he begged.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alexis
Colored lights whirled and danced through the heavy duskiness of the old music theater. They struck like flares against the faces of eager fans that pressed and vied to get closer to the stage.
To witness Sunder’s final show.
They’d made an official statement that it wasn’t the band’s end. They promised they would be back, although in a different capacity. They would continue to play on their own time and on their own terms.
Fans had still billed the show a final farewell.
Music blasted from the huge speakers that hung from the cavernous ceiling. It was heavy and thrashing like the music I knew Sunder played. It was so not normally my thing, but I couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement that blistered across my skin as I weaved my way closer and closer to the stage.
Drawn.
The way this boy had made me feel since the second he crashed into my life.
Zee had wanted me backstage where I could watch safely from the side. But I’d wanted to experience this through the fans’ eyes. Feel their energy and their exhilaration.
It was as if there were two distinct sides to this mysterious man.
One half so powerful and intense. An extension of the mayhem that hummed against these walls. The other half was something so vulnerable and quiet and profound, acute in the skill of his hands.
Together they were magnificent.
Imposing.
Everything I’d ever wanted.
People crushed against one another, adding to the frenzy that sizzled and hovered in the air.
Like a match that ached for a strike.
The lights went dim and there was a collective gasp. My breath was officially gone when the entire stage lit in a flash of blinding light.
Zee was there, big body taking to the stage, so powerful and sure as he lifted his drumsticks to the air.
Cheers roared through the space. Deafening. His face was upturned and his eyes squeezed closed.
My chest heaved. Because I saw it so clearly.
The tribute.
The respect.
The grief.
Mark was written all over Zee when he strode across that stage and climbed the riser to take his place. The riser hidden farther in the back and in the shadows.
But he was the only thing I could see.
Ash strode out, cocky and sure. A fresh rustle of energy burst in the crowd. It only grew when Lyrik sauntered out from the side, so dark and menacing, fitting that stage as if he’d been formed from its mold.
Everything went wild when the final member stepped out on the stage—Austin Stone.
Lyrik strummed a reverberating chord on his guitar in the same second Zee began to tap out a mesmerizing rhythm on his drums.
Then the entire place ignited in one thrashing beat.
Austin jumped into action, screaming the lyrics I couldn’t begin to understand. But I could feel them all the same. The intensity. The meaning.
Zee pounded and beat and played.
Fiercely.
Savagely.
My little drummer boy.
Overwhelming in his beauty. Destructive in his talent.
I wondered if he knew he was absolutely stunning in that moment, just as breathtaking as when he sat at his piano.
If he knew that this gift was just as great.
Or if he believed this was only a penance.
Punishment.
I got lost in Sunder.
In the music. In the connection that was so clear in the four of them.
The crowd thrashed and slammed at the base of the stage, each song only propelling it higher.