Page 4 of Crossroads

I was used to people hating me.

My parents had.

My sister did.

Only I didn’t know why Bodhi did. Or why we tended to rub each other the wrong way. Yet, with the way that he was looking at me right now, I wasn’t sure where that hate was directed.

“I’ll just gather up my things and leave.” My voice sounded hollow to my own ears, and I wanted to take the words back. I needed to smile, to laugh it off, and to walk away. It would be better for everybody if I just walked away. I’d sounded so sure of myself only moments ago, but I’d used all of my remaining energy just to hold the bat up in the first place. In the face of this particular Ashford, I couldn’t hold my bravado any longer.

Bodhi took a step farther into the cabin, and I flinched. He froze, his gaze narrowing as he studied the bruise. I knew he was probably taking in every other mark that he could see on my body. I’d worn a large hoodie but still had shorts on. Meaning he could see the handprints that had been left on me. The handprints I’d wanted to forget. But it was summer, and though I had a fire going because I had wanted the heat, I was still hot.

I should have just stayed away. Found a place to stay and hide that had nothing to do with people that I cared about.

“You’re not leaving.”

My spine stiffened even further, and I swallowed hard. This man loomed. I wasn’t sure he was aware he did so, but everything about him spoke of presence. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find my normal here. Or maybe I was so wrong about that I’d fail along the way. “You’re going to want to walk away, Bodhi. I’m sorry for intruding, for trespassing. I’ll go. But you can’t make me stay.”

Bodhi studied my face again, then cursed under his breath. The tiny hoop in his nose glinted under the light, catching my gaze. “You’re not going until you clean up the blood on your lip.”

I frowned, wondering what he was talking about, until I lifted my hand. When my fingers came away with blood, I realized I’d cut my split lip once again, and shame coated me. “Crap. I thought that was already healed.”

“Cuts on lips and bruises on your face tend to last a bit longer for some. Come on, let’s clean you up.” He held up both hands, moving slowly toward me as if I were a baby bird he was afraid was going to leap off the ledge. Maybe he was right. My heart thudded, and all I wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and hide. I was not weak. I did not hide. And yet here I was, doing that exact thing.

Nothing made sense, and I just wanted to go home. But where was home? I didn’t have one anymore. I could afford anything, and I didn’t even have a home yet. That was what happened when you trusted the wrong people.

“I should just go.”

Bodhi shook his head and moved closer. I didn’t back away this time or flinch, and I counted that as progress. There was a reason that I wasn’t staying at one of my bandmates’ homes. They wouldn’t be able to stop trying to mother me or take care of the situation. And then they would know about the decisions I had made. They would see that I had failed in my own judgment, something I had once been so proud of.

And with everything that had happened to them in the past, they didn’t need the publicity or the stress that came with realizing that I had brought terror and damage onto all of us. This would all go away once he forgot about me. And he would. The drugs would do that. He would forget, and we would all move on, and I wouldn’t have to cry anymore. But first, I just needed to heal.

“I know you keep eyeing that door, and you can walk away if you want to. I’m not going to force you to stay here. It seems to me somebody already forced enough.”

I pressed my lips together, ignoring the sting. I didn’t like that he could see. Nor did I like the idea that his words were spoken with such a lack of emotion that it nearly worried me.

Bodhi Ashford had always been an enigma to me. His sister, Briar, was one of our songwriters and was married to our lead singer, Gabriel Wilder. I had joined the band Wilder years after they had become a success, when their drummer, Malcolm, had died in a bus crash that had nearly taken Gabriel and Briar with them. Others had died in the band and crew, and I had come in a year later or so, trying to fill a void that I would never be fully capable of doing. But I had been known to stand in when they had needed someone. And we meshed well. I would never be Malcolm Ashford—Bodhi’s twin—but I was Kiera West. I had won a Grammy with them, gone platinum multiple times, and done three world tours. All in the short amount of time that I had been part of the band. And yet, I was always the new one. The one that had taken Malcolm’s place.

And as I looked into Bodhi’s eyes, the same eyes that Malcolm must have had, I couldn’t help but taste the bitterness on my tongue. I was a replacement, one that had the largest shoes to fill, and I would never do.

I wonder what Bodhi saw when he looked at me in that moment. A broken doll who couldn’t take care of herself?

An interloper?

And the one who could never replace his twin.

I wanted to shake myself just then, because I wasn’t one prone to maudlin thoughts. And yet here I was, surrounded by them because I didn’t have anything better to do.

“Do Gabe and the others know?” he asked, his voice low. I swallowed hard, not bothering to pretend not to know what he was talking about.

“No. And I don’t want them to know. We’re on a break, trying to relax and live. Everyone else is spending time with their families and taking a breath for the first time in years. I’m not going to put that on them.”

Bodhi pursed his lips before moving past me to the kitchen cabinets by my side. I didn’t flinch, but I didn’t move an inch either.

“Briar said she would be visiting soon because she wants to show off Maisie and spend time with the family. But I didn’t know the whole band was taking a break.” He paused in the act of pulling out the first-aid kit I hadn’t been aware was even there. “She might’ve told us, but I don’t remember.”

I heard the sadness in his tone. I had always known that Bodhi was set apart from the rest of his family, though I hadn’t known why. Briar hadn’t spoken on it, and I had always figured it was because he was Malcolm’s twin. Losing a part of yourself in such a way had to be devastating, but for some reason, I didn’t think that was all. There seemed to be a shattered aura surrounding him, a cloak of pain and grief that ebbed as he breathed and tightened when he tried to step forward. Maybe I was seeing too much, or perhaps not enough. Bodhi Ashford confused me and always had. And here I was, taking space when I shouldn’t have. He clearly didn’t want me here, and yet as he searched through the first aid kit, I had to wonder what the hell he was thinking.

“Here’s one of those ice packs. But from the look of that bruise on your thigh, you’re going to need to see a doctor. Have you?”