Prove Me Right Read online

  I shoot a text over to Pierce, just to let him know so he can alert the security at the pub. It’s not as if our fans don’t know about Meara. She’s been in a couple of videos and I have tons of pictures of us on my social media pages. When we’re back home, we hang out at Kelly’s. But the way he so blatantly brought her up like that worries me. It’s not as if we’re the most famous band in the world, but we have a big following and ... If she ever got hurt because of me, I would never forgive myself. It’s enough that I’m putting her through the emotional wringer; my work is not supposed to touch her in that way. It’s my job, my career, and there are some shitty things involved with it. I’ve managed to keep her shielded from that for seven years. I have one hundred and five days left then I’ll never have to worry about it again.

  * * *

  “Thank you, Chicago!” Mike screams one last time and drops the microphone. I chuck my sticks into the crowd and head to the back. The guys are stopped by some reporters, but I already told them that I was going back to the dressing room right away. Especially with what happened this afternoon, I have no desire to speak to any of them. Besides, Meara is here and I haven’t seen her yet. She called me when she got here and said she picked up the backstage pass. I know she’s stoked about the house, but she sounded overly excited. I shut the door behind me then go directly to the bathroom.

  Thankfully, the bottle I left here before the show is still half full, so I slam some down and hang my head. Never in my life have I been high around her, and I know, I fuckin’ know I don’t need it with her here. But the line I did before the show has worn off. All fucking day I’ve been more on edge than usual and I don’t want my stress to ruin Meara’s excitement. Hoping that a quick fix will help, I stick my head outside the bathroom and make sure I’m alone, then I pull out a twisted up baggie and dump the contents onto the flat countertop.

  Chapter 10

  Meara

  “HEY, GREAT SHOW!” I hug Jamie as I round the corner on my way to see Liam. He played a great set tonight, and I’m so happy right now, I feel like I’m walking on air.

  “Thanks. You by yourself?”

  “No, I came with Brandon and Mary.”

  He quirks an eyebrow in confusion.

  “Char’s husband, Travis. His brother is Brandon and his girlfriend, Mary.”

  “Oh yeah, duh. Where are they?”

  I knew he’d realize it when I linked them to Char. Our little group is expanding, and it’s awesome.

  “They’re going out or something. This isn’t really their thing.” I point to the couple making out against the wall and laugh. “Ya know, Brandon being a cop and all.”

  “Ahh, yes. So …” He leans against the wall. “What are you doing back here? Lee said you were meeting him on the bus.”

  “Yeah, but I was fast so I thought maybe he’d still be in the dressing room.” I hold up the papers I ran out to my car to get. “I have the papers for him to sign. Just wait, Jamie! You’re going to love this house. I haven’t talked to your dad yet, but I’m hoping his construction company will be able to do all the remodeling. This house is amazing!” I can tell I’m yelling, but I don’t care. You’d think with my level of excitement that I’d taken speed before I came here. Even for me, I’m more happy than normal right now. I can't stop smiling and my jaw hurts from it.

  “Meara,” Jamie whispers.

  “What?”

  “Just … nothing. I can walk you to the room if you wanna see if he’s still in there.”

  “Jamie, what?” I don’t like the sadness that crosses over his face. He and Liam are a lot alike, and they can’t hide their emotions for shit.

  “I’m just worried about him is all.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to the side, into a cubby where old pay phones used to be.

  I look at him and swallow the knot in my throat. “He’s not …”

  Jamie looks away and drops my hand.

  “Fuck. No, no … no, Jamie. Is he?” He continues to stare at the floor, so I push his shoulder and force him to look at me. “Is he?”

  His jaw moves as he works his throat. “I don’t know … but, I think so. I can’t prove it. He’s been drinking a lot more than usual. Since he came back from visiting you a few months ago, he’s been acting strange, and he has a look on his face … ya know that one where he looks right through you and doesn’t actually see you?”

  I’m all too familiar with that look. It’s what stared back at me from a hospital bed for four days. When I found him on the floor in his hotel room, foam coming out of his mouth and his body shaking, I thought he was dying. In reality, he was, really.

  I was visiting him in Texas over Christmas that year. They had just wrapped on a show, and I wanted to go to the after party for a bit, but he said he was tired and went back up to the room. I was only in the bar without him for maybe a half an hour before I left. It just felt wrong being there without him.

  So when I got to the room and saw him having spasms and his eyes rolled back in his head, I panicked. At first, I just stood there staring at him because I was in such shock. But then I yelled at him and called 911. I listened to their instructions, turned him on his side, and that’s when I saw it.

  On the little table next to the bed, I saw a pile of white powder, a razor blade, a bunch of random pills. I dropped the phone at that point and began hitting him, yelling at him.

  “Why would you do this, Lee? What the fuck is wrong with you? You asshole! Don’t you dare fucking leave me!”

  The ambulance arrived and paramedics rushed in and wheeled him off. I pointed at the table, and through my tear-filled eyes, I saw them give each other a look. Like this was a normal occurrence. As if the love of my life wasn’t convulsing on a stretcher and I didn’t know if I’d ever get to see him again. Just thinking about it makes me sick.

  “This can’t be happening, not now. Not fucking now!” My stomach clenches and I grip it, Jamie’s eyes fly to my hands.

  “Meara …” He trails off turning to face the wall. He looks at the ceiling and takes a gigantic breath, then turns back to me. “Are you pregnant?”

  Tears fill my eyes and I don’t have to answer for him to know that I am.

  “Does he know?”

  “No. Please don’t tell him. I was going to tell him tonight, but if he’s fucked up, I don’t want him to know. It’ll just make everything worse and add more stress to whatever the hell he’s feeling. He can’t know now.” I pause in my rant and try to collect my thoughts. “I told him, Jamie. I fucking told him I wouldn’t go through that again!”

  After Liam’s overdose and his time in rehab, we had a huge discussion. I really do love him with every ounce of who I am, but I gave him an ultimatum. It was either the drugs or me. I said I wouldn’t be with him if he was going to do that again. He promised. Promised he was done. His explanation was that he just got caught up in the lifestyle, and since he wasn’t banging chicks after the shows, the only other option was drinking and drugs. I then explained I didn’t give a shit; that I loved him too much to sit around and watch him kill himself. He promised he’d get clean because he knew he was better than coke; he knew he was better than being numb and high all the time.

  “I know.” He holds his arms out for me and I rest my head on his chest while he rubs up and down my back. “I don’t have proof, but the signs are all there. He still drinks a lot, more lately—”

  I jump out of his arms as if he’s on fire. “What? He never drinks around me.”

  “Don’t have an answer there either, babe.”

  “Jesus, Jamie. Why didn’t you tell me any of this shit?” A throbbing starts between my eyes, and I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Can I just have a minute alone? I’ll go see him in a second.”

  “Sure, but you know we’re all here for both of you.” Jamie squeezes my shoulder as he walks out, and I crouch down, refusing to cry.

  Anger takes hold as I grip the house papers in my hand. I cram them into my purse and with a steel
rod in my back, I march to the dressing room. I’m supposed to meet him on his bus, but I thought I could catch him before he left. I turn the knob and am surprised it’s open. As quietly as I can, I walk in.

  An empty bottle of vodka sits on a table and there’s a crack in the bathroom door. I take a half of a step in and have to cover my mouth when I see Liam through the slit, bent over the sink, sucking shit up his nose.

  Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow the acid down as I walk out of the door, closing it quickly behind me. The bright red exit sign is like a beacon, and I run to it, flinging the door open with all my might. As soon as I round the corner, tears and vomit mix as they uncontrollably release from my body. My knees scrape on the ground when I can no longer stand on my own. Voices sound as if they’re getting closer, so I scoot back and use the brick wall to pull myself up.

  My feet hit the pavement, and with no direction, I get the fuck out of here. Ahead of me, I see a sign for a train station, so I run that way. I fall down the last couple of steps and land awkwardly on my arm, but I feel no pain. The train going north leaves soon. I head that way and walk all the way to the last car so I can wallow in misery without an audience. My mind is forcing me to block it. I didn't see it; it was just a figment of my imagination. The future that I was promised did not just get ripped from my fingertips.

  Get home. I just need to get home.

  It’s like the bad dream I used to have when I was a kid, where I would fall into a black hole then get jolted awake full of sweat, panting for air, and clawing at the sheets. Once I get home and to my bed, I’ll wake up. I just need to get there first, and then it’ll all just be a bad dream.

  The train lurches forward and I wrap my arms around my bent knees and stare out the window.

  “Ticket? Hello, ma’am.” The attendant stops next to me and I dig a few dollars out of my purse. “One way or are you coming back?”

  “One way.”

  The train ride should be a little over an hour, and the further away I get from Chicago and Liam, the more numb I become. I dry heave several times, but since I already vomited, nothing else comes up. As the trees and buildings blur by, it takes my mind right along with it. Everything is blurry.

  “Last stop.”

  I get out and drag my feet to the bench just outside to where people normally sit and wait to be taken somewhere; I sit and don’t know where to go. What do I do next? I don’t want to go home anymore because Liam surrounds me there. The pub is not an option. Char and Travis are on a date night, and I don’t want to ruin that. Especially since she’s pregnant again.

  Pregnant. God, what am I going to do?

  Without even realizing it, I’m rubbing my stomach again, so I get up and walk. Whatever part of my brain is still functional is telling me this is a bad idea. It’s late at night and I’m walking by myself. At this point, I don’t care if something happens to me. But it’s not just me anymore, is it? I have a baby. A baby I will raise on my own because I refuse to allow a drug around my child, even if he is the father.

  I’ve made it to a park surrounded by trees and bushes. A bitter laugh rises up when I think about the last time I was leaned up against a tree with Liam. His words, the promises passing through his lips of loving me forever and never wanting to let me go, and him pointing to our initials carved into the bark.

  I tilt my head and walk up to a large maple tree, one that looks so similar to my treehouse tree. His face, his smile, his words, the soft touches, and now broken promises all transform into the trunk. My fists pound into the bark and I slip in the soil, causing me to fall into the prickly bushes around the tree. The same time the thorns stab my skin, my wrist throbs. I try to push myself up, but the pain is too much. Not just physical, but every emotion I never thought I would feel leaves me a pile of flesh and bones, curled up on the cold ground. Blurry.

  * * *

  “Miss? Are you all right?” A male voice rumbles through my ears. “Miss?”

  “We should call the police,” responds the frantic voice of a female, somewhere close to me.

  “Is she alive?”

  A kind face appears in front of me and warm hands grab my arm and touch my wrist. I flinch at the pain.

  “Yeah, she looks in shock.”

  The deeper voice turns to static in the background as I focus on the woman in front of me. She has a really cute bob. Her hair is about the same color as mine, maybe a little darker. I think I’m going to dye mine black. She pulls off red lipstick, though. I never could. Crazy hair colors, tattoos, and piercings were always it for me. But I don’t want red hair anymore. I see her lips move and even though it’s dark outside, the lights are bright enough that I can see clearly. She’s talking to me, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

  A siren sounds in the distance, getting closer with every second, and before long, I’m being placed on a stretcher and wheeled into the back of an ambulance. I think they’re asking me questions. Who else would they be talking to? A sudden prick makes my eyes flash to my right arm where they’re putting a needle in it. They roll my body to the side and remove my purse from across my chest.

  I hear my name called. Who’s here? My neck turns to the side and my eyes catch with a paramedic. His soft brown eyes are clear as day behind his lenses, and they look into mine. He asks what happened, and I try to remember.

  I went to see Liam tonight. He was great onstage. Then after the show. I saw Jamie. Liam using. Again. I’m pregnant with his baby. Leaning over the sink. Powder. That’s right. Then I left. I took a train, right? Or did I walk?

  Everything blurs again, and I remember being on the train. Looking out the window. Blurry. The brief memories I just had are gone now, and everything is blurry again.

  I’m being moved now. “Female. Age twenty-five. Lacerations. Possible broken wrist.” Bright lights even behind my closed lids force them shut tighter.

  Blurry. Everything’s blurry.

  “Ma’am.”

  “Can you hear me, miss?”

  So many voices, so much movement.

  Everything blurs again, and then it goes black.

  * * *

  Why is my mom crying?

  I sit at the end of the bed with my knees bent and good arm wrapped around them. I’ve told her I’m fine … well, not told her out loud, but in my head I have. Everyone’s here. Pierce, my parents, Char, and Travis. I wonder where Caroline is. She’s so cute. I always wanted two babies. Well, I take that back, I did want two babies. Now I don’t know what I want. I focus again on the small brown stain on the wall. I wonder if it’s dried blood.

  Why are they all staring at me?

  I heard the doctor tell them I’m fine; my body is just in shock. For some reason, I can’t form words outside of my head. He also told me the baby was just fine, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head … I don’t want any of them to know yet. I whispered, “Don’t tell.” He understood and said it was confidential.

  Pierce stands in front of me blocking my view. He bends down and a look of pain crosses his face. “Talk to me, Meara. What happened?”

  Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. I tell him, but he doesn’t hear me. He turns his head to the side when the door opens. Footsteps then Charlotte’s voice. “Thank God you’re here.”

  Who’s here? Everyone who matters to me is here. Except Declan. I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s too busy saving lives.

  “Meara?”

  Liam. Is that Liam? Yes, it is. I can feel him.

  He stands in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder. I tilt my head and slowly raise it up to be sure it’s really him. Tears roll down my cheeks, but my eyes are frozen on him.

  “Princess,” he whispers.

  It all comes back now. I opened the door, pills, a razor blade, liar …

  I stand up and slap him across the face. Then I bring my good arm back and punch him in the jaw.

  No. No. No.

  I collapse into his chest and try to hit him again, but
I have nothing left. He’s everything I want, and he just took it all away. My arm goes through the motion, but there’s no more struggle left inside of me. I can’t fight him anymore.

  His arms wrap around me and I gather up what strength I have, pull it from deep inside, and push him back, arms flailing. Another set of hands wrap around me from behind and Pierce’s voice cuts through everything. “Shh, Meara. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not!” I scream through the burn in my throat. Nothing will ever be okay. I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life raising a baby by myself when I should be living in a house with Liam. With a dog, rocking on the huge wraparound porch.

  My mom walks over and I shrug off her attempt at comfort. I don’t want her pity right now.

  “Meara,” Liam pleads.

  “No! Leave. I don’t want you here.” I turn away from him, right into Pierce, and sob into my brother’s chest as I struggle to catch my breath.

  Liam touches my shoulder. I’d recognize his touch anywhere. Normally, his hands bring me nothing but pleasure, whether it be comforting or sexual. But right now, it makes my stomach coil with disgust for everything that he’s ruined without even knowing it. I waited my entire life for him, and all along, I asked one fucking thing of him. I struggle out of Pierce’s hold and run to the bathroom and slam the door behind me. My stomach lurches and I heave into the toilet.

  Everything becomes blurry again, and I fall to the floor. My body once again a pile of skin and bones.

  Chapter 11

  Liam

  THE LAST THING I remember was doing a few lines in the bathroom of our dressing room and stumbling to the bus where I thought Meara was coming to meet me. Somehow, I blacked out waiting for her and the next thing I knew Brandon and his girlfriend, Mary, woke me up. Brandon’s brother is Travis, who is married to Meara’s cousin, Charlotte. Brandon and Mary were in town for the concert and found me passed out on my bus when Travis called them. I threw up on the bus and fell walking to their car, more fucked up than I thought. They didn’t tell me anything other than Meara was hurt and I needed to go with them to the hospital.