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Michael walked out with an older man, who pointed to a location in the back. I reached over and took Patrick’s hand. “It’s gonna be a mess.”
“I know, Cole. You don’t have to prepare me for it.”
I nodded and looked away as Michael got into the Suburban. He looked over at Adam and smiled. “What have you done now, Rockstar?”
Before he could answer, Patrick blurted out, “He told us all about your naked search and rescue missions in the apartment. Sounds fun, man. Maybe we’ll come play sometime.”
“The fuck we will,” I replied. “Not. Ever. Happening.”
They all laughed as Micheal pulled out. I was afraid I just might be sick.
He twisted through the maze of road that led to the back of the property. I didn’t see it anywhere, but when he stopped in front of a metal building, my stomach dropped.
“They locked it in here for safekeeping since it belonged to a celebrity.”
I glanced at Patrick, who appeared to be handling all this better than I was.
Michael shut off the engine and turned in his seat. “If you’ve changed your minds, Adam and I can go in and clean out the car. It’s not a problem.”
Patrick shook his head. “No, I need to see it.”
Adam’s eyes met mine. He knew how I felt about this. “Come on, brother. I’ve got you.”
Turning to the door, I pulled the lever to disengage the lock. Michael had the key in his hand and walked over to the door. Everything slowed down, and I heard my heart beating in my ears. The click of the lights coming on, and the look on Adam’s face were enough to bring me to my knees.
Patrick reached for my hand, and we walked inside together.
There on the concrete sat my worst nightmare. The driver’s side door was laying against the wall since it had been cut off to get him out. The airbags had deployed, and Patrick’s blood was visible on them. As we approached the car, I was terrified he was going to relive this nightmare.
Patrick let go of my hand and circled the car. He looked inside, then squatted down to pick something up from the floorboard.
When he stood, I saw the ribbon of the lanyard he’d been wearing in Seattle. It was his ticket into the venue, and the backstage pass. He looked down at it, and my stomach roiled.
Please, God. Don’t take him away from me again.
Patrick looked over his shoulder at me, and I hung my head. I couldn’t look at him. He deserved someone so much better than I was. He was going to walk away from me, and it would be my own damn fault.
“Cole,” he whispered.
Bile swirled around in my stomach and I couldn’t hold it down any longer. I bolted through the door and ran as far as I could before throwing up. Tears were flooding me as I stood bent over with my hands on my knees.
“Babe, are you okay?”
I felt his warm hand on my back, and it made me cry harder. So I shook my head before I could answer him. “No, Patrick. I’m not okay. I’ve not been okay since the night this happened. But really since San Francisco.”
Michael offered me a paper towel and a bottle of water. I took it and rinsed my mouth out.
Grief, regret, and sorrow poured from me. All the things I’d pushed down, the questions I wanted to ask, and the blame I refused to ignore came to the surface. I was a fucking mess. Just like that night.
“This is my fault, Patrick. Your accident happened because of me. I almost got you killed and I’m so fucking sorry.”
I dropped to my knees on the gravel in my grief. Patrick went down with me. “What are you talking about? This isn’t your fault.”
“But it is. You came to the concert to get me to come home, and I told you no. I didn’t want to hear any more excuses about why we were still in the closet. I shut you down and didn’t listen to what you wanted to tell me. If I’d just listened, or asked you to stay, you wouldn’t be facing all the rehab and losing your career.”
I cried as Patrick sat frozen on the ground with me. I looked up into his eyes and saw they were vacant. He was reliving that night.
Patrick got to his feet and left me on the ground. The lanyard was crumpled in his right hand as he turned and walked away from me.
