Fifteen

Trey pushed through the crowded room, offering quiet greetings to the people he knew, but he was looking for one familiar face. He didn’t see Sed anywhere, but he did notice a highly recognizable, crazy hairstyle—black with a distinctive yellow strip—near the front of the room. He hurried to Eric’s side, hoping Eric could point him in Sed’s direction, certain their rock of a lead singer could use a little support. Hell, Trey could use a little support himself. He wasn’t in the mood to interact with anyone else.

“Where’s your shadow?” Eric asked in greeting, nodding at the empty space behind Trey. “And your shadow’s shadow?”

Trey shrugged, as if he didn’t care that he was at odds with Reagan and even more so with Ethan. He didn’t know why he’d reacted so strongly to Ethan revealing his secret to Reagan. It wasn’t that Trey didn’t want Reagan to know the details of his brief affair with Brian—that wasn’t the issue. The issue was . . . Trey wasn’t sure, exactly, but a dark feeling was gnawing away at his insides. In the car he’d been absolutely livid, and he wasn’t sorry he’d let the pair of them know he was upset. Trey just wished he understood why he felt utterly betrayed by Ethan’s slip. The three of them were supposed to be partners. Equal partners. Equal partners shared everything with each other and didn’t exclude anyone. Didn’t they? He’d thought so. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Where’s Sed?” he asked Eric.

“I think he went outside for some air,” Eric said. “I wouldn’t bother him right now. He’s not dealing with this well.”

That was why Trey planned to bother him. “Thanks.”

He turned to hunt for Sed outside, but Eric caught his arm. “Aren’t Reagan and Ethan coming?”

Trey shrugged again and pulled away from Eric’s loose grip. When he turned, Rebekah was standing in his path. “About time you got—” Her cheery smile faded into a concerned scowl. “Are you okay? You look pretty down.”

“How am I supposed to look when a friend’s father dies?”

He had known Sed’s father—and he was saddened by his passing and especially concerned by how much it must hurt his only son—but Trey had troubles of his own, and he didn’t want to talk about them with anyone, except maybe Dare. A quick glance around the room and at the line that was filtering past the open casket told Trey that his brother had yet to arrive.

Rebekah gave Trey a quick hug. “He’s with God now. You’ll see him again when it’s your time.”

Trey didn’t find her words comforting in the least, but he nodded, and when she released him, he continued on his way. When he finally located Sed behind the building, part of him wished he hadn’t. Sed’s muscular, tattooed arms were wrapped around a sobbing woman in a trim black skirt suit—Sed’s mother, Trey realized on second glance—and though the words Sed repeated to her sounded strong, his face was a crumpled mask of despair.

“It’s going to be okay, Mom,” Sed told her. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“How could he leave us now? Doesn’t he know we need him?”

Monica’s angry words surprised Trey. It wasn’t as if the man had committed suicide. She had to know he hadn’t wanted to leave his family behind, broken and grieving.

“We would always need him. Now. Ten years from now. A hundred years from now.”

“I just . . .” She shook her head and sniffed loudly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. I already miss him so much.” She tilted her head back and looked up at her son, who towered over her.

“It’s going to be okay,” Sed repeated. “I’ll take care of everything.”

She smiled through her tears. “You’re so much like him. A mighty rock in turbulent seas, standing strong against whatever the waves crash against you.”

Sed’s smile was terse—tired—but Monica didn’t seem to recognize that the waves were weathering her mighty rock more than usual. “You should go find Elise and Kylie. They’re worried about you.”

“I don’t want your sisters to see me like this.” Monica pulled a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes and nose.

“They can handle it,” Sed said. “They’re like Dad too. And like you. It’ll give them strength to stand beside you when you need them.”

She nodded and they exchanged a lengthy embrace before she drew away and turned toward the door. She offered Trey a wavering smile as she passed, and all Trey could do was choke out a gruff, “I’m so sorry, Monica,” before she vanished inside. He never knew what to say in these situations. He felt useless—even burdensome—as if everything he said or did would make things worse. Perhaps he should leave Sed to stare at the perfectly manicured lawn without saying anything.

“She brought me out here to give me this,” Sed said, extending his arm behind him in Trey’s direction. Did he even know who he was offering the crumpled paper to? He hadn’t glanced Trey’s way since Trey had stepped outside. “I want to read it, but my vision gets all blurry when I try. Would you?”

Trey stepped out of the shadow of the building and took the paper. What was it? His father’s will? Some old love letter to his mother? Trey smoothed the page against his chest and when he read the scrawled title at the top of the page, his throat closed off. Wedding Toast for Sed. Trey swallowed against the knot in his throat. Sed was marrying Jessica soon, and now his father would miss the wedding.

“Are you sure you want to hear this now?” Trey asked Sed’s back.

“I’m sure. If I can’t handle it, I’ll tell you to stop.”

Sed continued to stare at the lawn, and Trey was glad. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to read if Sed got all emotional and he had to stare that in the face. The man wasn’t only his family’s rock, he was the band’s rock too. Trey, Jace, Eric, and even Brian had always depended on Sed’s infallible stability.

Trey glanced at the funeral home, deciding he wasn’t the best person for the job. “Maybe Jessica should—”

“I asked you.”

“Fine.” Trey lifted the page and cleared his throat. “Wedding toast for Sed,” he read. “Believe it or not, this big guy was a little baby once.”

“I don’t believe it,” Eric said from behind Trey. “No woman could squeeze out a head that size.”

Trey scowled at the interruption, but Sed just laughed. “My mom did have to have a cesarean.”

“You see?” Eric said. “He was never a little baby.” He tried to snatch the paper from Trey’s hand, but Trey smashed it against his chest. “What are you reading?”

“The toast Sed’s dad wrote for his wedding.”

“Sed’s wedding?” Jace asked from somewhere behind him. This was turning into a regular band meeting.

“Yeah.” Sed nodded. “Continue.”

Trey was a bit surprised that Sed wanted him to keep reading now that Eric and Jace had shown up, but they did share a tour bus for most of the year, so why not?

Trey lifted the page—Eric standing close behind him to read over his shoulder—and continued. “I remember when his mother and I brought him home—”

“There you guys are,” Brian interrupted as he dashed up behind them. “I was starting to wonder if I was at the right funeral home.”

“Shh!” Eric said, waving a hand at Brian. “Trey’s reading the toast Phil wrote for Sed’s wedding.”

“Oh,” Brian said, stopping short. His smile of greeting slipped from his handsome face, and he offered Trey a questioning look. In a glance, Trey understood Brian’s anxiety, his turmoil and his concern—his need to be part of whatever was going on here. He also understood his affection for Sed and for the other members of his band. His guilt. What did he have to feel guilty about?

Trey tore his gaze from Brian—why did the man always bring him peace and unsettle him at the same time?—and started reading the page over again.

“Believe it or not, this big guy was once a little baby. I remember when his mother and I brought him home. We were so afraid we were going to mess him up.”

“I’d say they did a pretty good job at that,” Eric quipped.

Jace shook his head at him, and Eric ducked his head and folded his hands at his waist. Even though they all knew that Eric dealt with uncomfortable situations with jokes, now was not an appropriate time for Eric to unleash his inner clown.

“He grew so fast,” Trey read. “First words. First steps. First temper tantrum. There were many more tantrums in store for his mother and me. I’m sure Jessica has dealt with a few of those herself.”

Sed chuckled. “More than a few.”

Trey smiled and kept reading. “I tried so hard to push him into sports. Baseball and basketball, track and swimming. Hell, he even tried soccer. Yet all he ever wanted to do was sing. But when you have a kid built for athletics—look at the guy, he’s a tank—you don’t want him involved in that sissy stuff.” Trey glanced up, expecting Sed to look hurt for his father calling his chosen profession “sissy stuff,” but Sed had a smile on his face and was nodding in agreement with his father’s words. “You want him to kick some ass. He eventually took up football. Not because he was any good at it or because he liked it, but because he wanted to make me proud.”

Somebody in the group sniffed, but Trey pressed on.

“I was proud of him. I am proud of him. Not because he scored a touchdown—once.” Eric chuckled and slapped Sed on the back. “Not because he’s successful or rich and famous or too damned good looking for his own good. Not even because he has a voice that makes the angels in heaven envious. I’m proud of him because he’s my boy. And now he’s a grown man. A man smart enough to marry a strong woman who doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Congratulations, Jessica. He’s your problem now.”

A laugh burst from Sed, but it ended on a sob. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and took a strangled breath. Leaning close, Jace touched his arm. Jace had lost his father at a young age. He must understand what Sed was going through. Maybe that was why Sed grabbed him in a crushing hug, his body quaking with silent weeping. Trey exchanged a glance with Brian and Eric, and the three of them wrapped Sed in a tight embrace.

They stood in a huddle, lending strength and drawing upon it, until a gentle voice interrupted their public display of less-than-manly affection. “Are you okay, sweetheart? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Sed’s body relaxed as he turned his head toward Jessica. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “I had Trey read Dad’s wedding toast to us because I was too emotional to read it myself.”

“I could have read it to you,” Jessica said. She squirmed into a narrow opening between Jace and Brian to add her hug to their huddle.

The guys all let go of him at once, and Sed released his stranglehold on Jace—who took several deep breaths upon gaining his freedom—and wrapped his arms around his fiancée, burying his face in her long strawberry-blond hair.

“I’ll read it to you,” he said. “Later, when we’re alone.”

After that cue to leave, Sed’s bandmates filed back into the funeral home with Trey bringing up the rear. They all had women to lean on now. He supposed their old habit of depending on each other for comfort had become obsolete. Except Trey still wanted to confide his troubles to Sed. Only now wasn’t the best time to burden the poor guy with his trivial problems.

“Trey?” Sed called after him, and Trey turned, his shoulders slumping with relief. Sed had recognized his turmoil. Good old dependable Sed. “Can I have that back now?”

Sed nodded at the paper fluttering in Trey’s hand. With a sullen nod, Trey retraced his steps and returned the wedding speech to its owner. “Sorry. I’m sure you’ll treasure it always.”

Sed’s eyes scanned Trey’s. “Did you need to talk to me about something?”

Jessica turned to examine Trey as well, her lips pursed with concern.

“It’s nothing,” he said, his gaze shifting to the meticulous lawn that had so enraptured Sed earlier. Maybe once Sed’s life settled down, Trey would feel comfortable sharing his woes, but he felt like an ass for even considering unloading on him just then.

Sudden shouting from around the corner of the building made Trey cringe. He recognized Reagan’s and Ethan’s raised voices, and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. His hurricane had arrived.