Page 31 of Rust of Control

The smile in the mirror now wasn't bright. It wasn't anything. It was just his face. His, before Rand and after Rand. Rand had borrowed it without asking and put it to work.

He turned the tap off.

Went back to the bedroom. Sat on the edge of the bed next to Nate, not against him, just beside him, their shoulders an inch apart.

"I want in," Jude said.

"Jude-"

"I'm not asking to go operational. I know what I am and I know what I'm not." He looked at his hands in his lap, still now. "But I was inside it for two years. I know the venues, the promoters, who Rand talked to after shows, which kids he paid attention to. I know his patterns." He paused. "I know things the crew doesn't know they need."

Nate was quiet for a moment. "I'll take it to Marcus."

"That's all I'm asking."

Another silence. Outside, a boat on the river, a low horn.

"You okay?" Nate said.

Jude thought about the honest answer. Found it.

"No," he said. "Not right now. But I'm going to be." He picked at a loose thread on the knee of his jeans. "I was in it and I didn't see it and kids got hurt. I can't fix that. I couldn't have fixed it then either. I didn't have anything to fix it with. I know that." The thread came loose. He balled it up and held it. "But I'm not going to sit in this house and wait for someone else to fix it now. I'm not doing that."

Nate put his hand over Jude's, the closed fist with the thread in it. Didn't say anything. Didn't try to reassure him or correct him or reframe it. Just put his hand there and left it.

Jude unclenched his fist. The thread fell. Nate's hand stayed.

"Okay," Nate said. Just that.

Jude leaned his head against Nate's shoulder. Not collapsing. Just resting, briefly, before whatever came next.

The river went by. The house made its usual sounds. Somewhere downstairs Marcus was probably making coffee, Ghost probably already at his wall, the work already moving without them. Elijah and Jack were out closing the net and pretending the rest of them didn’t see that those two had a world to work out between them.

Jude sat with his eyes open and thought about Junior, who didn't have a last name, who'd trusted a dark room, who'd been at one of his shows.

He wasn't going to forget that. He wasn't even going to try.

Chapter 16

Marcus heard Jude out without interrupting, which was how Nate knew he was taking it seriously. Marcus interrupted everyone. It was how he thought.

They were in the back room, the three of them, door closed. Ghost's wall had grown another row since yesterday: six new pins, two new strings, one name in red that hadn't been there a week ago. Marcus sat across from Jude with his hands flat on the table and listened to Jude describe two years of shows. The venues, the promoters, the pattern of who Rand stayed to talk to after sets and who he didn't. Jude was precise. He'd been up since five pulling it together in a notebook Nate hadn't known he was keeping, and he laid it out like the setlists he wrote. Nothing wasted, everything in order.

When Jude finished Marcus looked at Ghost.

"Cross-reference the venue list against the timeline and what Jude already gave us," Marcus said.

"Already running it." Ghost didn't look up from the laptop.

Marcus looked back at Jude. "The promoter you mentioned. Kasey Vance. You said Rand stayed after every show at venues she booked."

"Every one. He'd tell me to go get the car. Sometimes I'd be waiting forty-five minutes." Jude's voice was level. He'd had a day to sit with what that meant. "She's in Detroit. Books six or seven venues on the circuit. I've got her number in my phone."

"Don't use it yet."

"I know."

Marcus nodded once, short. "You did good bringing this." He said it plain, no performance in it, and got up and went to the wall with Ghost.