Chapter 6

The box of drug tests sat on the dashboard of Oakley’s car. He stared at the thing, then at the bus he’d parked beside, guts churning. His first time meeting XVI Hours and he’d be asking them to piss for him. Well, for the test, but with something so intrusive, he doubted they’d see any difference.

This had to be a cruel joke Aunt Reese was playing on him. Was she really that angry he’d lost his first job? Why not give him a chance to get another normal one? He could do better. He was very motivated.

Dropping his head back against the seat, he closed his eyes and pictured the bandmembers, all of them glaring at him before one finally got fed up and punched him. Likely breaking his nose. Maybe a few teeth. If he asked nicely, they might avoid beating him too badly—just enough to give him a good excuse to return to his aunt, admit he wasn’t fit for the job, then go home.

Then what? You live with Mom until she gets fed up of your pathetic ass too?

Oakley rubbed a hand over his face. He’d tried to prove he could be independent, but the execution never turned out the way he planned. He wanted people to like him. He didn’t have many friends, so when the few he had asked him for things, he couldn’t say no.

Mom worried that his friends were using him, but he refused to believe that. They’d been there for him even when…even when he’d been completely broken. Unable to care for himself in the most basic ways. So had his mother, but she didn’t want his help with anything anymore. Not around the house, not at her software company—hell, his gratitude only seemed to upset her.

One accident and his life might as well be over. He hated thinking like that, but seven years later and he still wasn’t a ‘real adult’. While everyone he’d gone to high school with was building families and careers, he was still stuck in the same place he’d been at eighteen.

He was lucky and he knew it. Things could have gone so much worse. Rather than coddling him and paying for his car and his one failed attempt at having his own apartment, his mother could still be spoon-feeding him three times a day. Or having nurses do it. She could be forced to watch him lie in that bed he’d been stuck in for the rest of his life, rather than several months.

His eyes burned as he remembered the first time he’d heard the doctor talking to her about his future.

“That he’s become somewhat responsive is encouraging, but you should prepare for a tough battle even if he does wake up. He’ll have to learn how to walk again. How to speak. How to write.” The doctor’s voice was so far away, but it might as well be right in his ear, telling him everything was hopeless. “Your son may never be who he was again.”

“He’s alive. That’s all I care about.” His mother’s tone was soft. A little raw, as though she’d been crying, but he sensed her determination. “Tell me what I have to do to give him his best chance and I’ll do it.”

His mother had done that and more. Aunt Reese wasn’t really punishing him, she was pushing him in a way his mother couldn’t. Didn’t make suddenly being on his own, away from the security he’d relied on for too long, any better, but…that was the point.

As dependant as he’d become, he wasn’t completely oblivious. The only way he’d ever get out on his own would be to remove the temptation—from both himself and Mom—to stick to the status quo. Sure, she could still wire him money, but he wouldn’t ask for a dime. He never did.

The car had been a ‘surprise gift’ when Mom heard he was taking public transportation. Paying his rent the result of her checking in with his landlord because Oakley had missed a call from her when he was in the shower. All things he should tell her not to do, but how the hell could he? He couldn’t say he didn’t need her anymore, he’d always need her. Though, not as he had when relearning things she’d taught him as a child.

Going from his first apartment to living on a tour bus traveling across the country was exactly the kind of drastic change Aunt Reese would consider reasonable. He hadn’t told her how terrified he was. He didn’t want to insult a band she was so committed to, but they were the type of people Oakley used to hang around with. Wild and reckless and unlikely to listen to a word he said. Being the responsible one hadn’t saved him in the past.

“Turn the music up, Oakley! I love this song!”

“Danny, get back in your seat!”

“Oakley look out!”

A knock on the window made him jump. He gripped the steering wheel, lifting his head and staring up. Then smiled when he saw it was only Vanessa.

She smiled back at him as he rolled down the window. “Getting your nerve up to meet the guys or are you planning to drive away?”

Heat crawled up the back of his neck. He loosened his grip on the steering wheel and leaned back with a heavy sigh. “I haven’t decided yet.” Absently brushing his hand through his hair, he touched the base of the scar that stretched from behind one ear, all the way to the center of his skull. Thankfully well hidden by his thick, white locks. “Have you met them?”

“I’ve met North and Annette. I think you’ll like them.”

“North is the one who was in jail.”

“The charges were dropped. And if you’d read the whole report you’d know North didn’t lay a hand on the man. He was considered an accessory to the crime.” Vanessa watched his face closely, as though trying to read something in his reaction. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her. “You don’t have to be afraid of them, Oakley.”

He should insist he wasn’t, but he didn’t want to lie to her. Instead, he grabbed the box off the dashboard. “I have to ask them to piss.”

She spat out a laugh. “Which will be funny as hell. Will you do it before or after you introduce yourself?”

“Before. Then they won’t know my name and it will be harder to hunt me down.”

Resting her folded arms on the open window, her chin on them, Vanessa held his gaze for a moment. “Have you considered there’s a reason Reese asked you to do this? Besides forcing you to be independent? She doesn’t seem like the type who’d set someone up to fail.”

Why did the woman have to be so damn reasonable? And so hard to ignore? Her voice had a smooth, calming quality, her light brown eyes so warm and earnest he couldn’t help wondering what she saw when she looked at him. Not a weak man or a failure—she wouldn’t be wasting her time if she saw that, right?

Dark brown hair pulled back in tight braids, smooth rich brown skin glistening with golden hues in the sunlight, Vanessa really did look like a model. Or an athlete. Or a damn goddess. Everything about her radiated strength. He wasn’t sure why he’d questioned her being the head of security for a second. She’d keep the band safe.

But could he do his job half as well? He wanted to argue with her assessment of his Aunt’s choice, but he couldn’t say anything bad about Aunt Reese. Except that any faith she had in him was misplaced. “I doubt she expects me to fail, but—”

“Then don’t.” She straightened and opened the driver’s side door. “Your first task is to make sure our band is free from any drugs that will impact them or the music. Do that. You’ll be learning along the way, so no one expect you to know everything. They’ll be grateful to finally have some help.”

“Our band…” He rubbed his hands over his lips, then laughed. “You make it sound like we’re going to be part of something.”

“We are.” Her smile widened as he rolled up the window and climbed out of the car, holding the box. She squeezed his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

“Ish?” He grinned at her laugh, keeping to her side as she started toward the bus. “Is there anything I need to know before we head in?”

She slowed as they reached the bus. “Only that they’re people, Oakley. Not wild rock stars, not criminals. Just people."