Night Shifts Black (29 page)

“I told her some
things,” Luke confesses, breaking the long silence.

I can feel Casey
stiffen, and glance up at his face. He doesn’t seem angry, just concerned.

“Yeah?”

Luke nods. “About how
we got started, about that time with your father and Molly. Just thought you
should know.”

Casey doesn’t respond
at first. “Fun story,” he mumbles finally.

I take his hand and
lace my fingers with his. “I want to know all the stories,” I say. “Fun or
not.”

“I don’t talk to him
anymore,” Casey replies, and I’m not sure he even heard my response. He’s back
there again. I can see it in his eyes when I look up at him. “I’m the only one
who doesn’t, but he always hated me more than the others. I wasn’t as afraid of
him as he wanted.”

Luke nods, and I can
see the understanding all over his face. The friendship, the history, the
connection that explains their incredible music.

“He hates that he was
wrong about you, Case. He hates your success. I saw him when I went home a few
weeks ago. He’s a bitter, miserable man,” Luke says.

“You went home?” Casey
asks, surprised. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Luke flinches, and we
can tell this wasn’t supposed to be part of the story. I remember his trip. Clearly.
I’d been so worried about him when he suddenly disappeared for a week without a
word.

The way his eyes are
shifting now, I know it’s bad. What I don’t know is if he’s finally ready to
share it with us. I don’t think we were supposed to know any of this. I doubt
anyone was, which is all the more reason why it has to come out.

He draws in a deep
breath and concentrates on the floor.

“I was… putting things
in order. Preparing for…” Luke stops just as my heart does.

I stare at him in
horror, unable to speak. I don’t know what to do with that sentence. It’s too
heavy, too important, too awful, too expected, too full, to process. I can’t
see Casey’s face but I can feel his sudden tension behind me and know he’s
having a similar reaction.

Luke’s eyes venture
toward us again, searching, clouded this time. “A month ago I was ready. I was
done. That’s why I started visiting Jemma’s. The chair. To say goodbye with one
final punishment for what I was. What I’d done. To force myself to confront my
failure. A month ago was supposed to be the end.”

I jump up from my seat
and rush toward him. I don’t care. No. It’s too real now. Too close. I throw my
arms around him and feel his tighten around me in return. We both are thinking
the same thing, filled with the same sickening questions. What if I hadn’t
butted in? What if I’d ignored his crazy behavior like everyone else? What if
I’d done the right thing and been polite? My inexplicable rudeness saved his
life. Started mine.

I hold on. I know
Casey understands what’s happening. That he’s not jealous, and he waits in
silence as Luke and I put each other back together. Luke finally pulls away and
swats at his eyes, a haunted look on his face. I know something’s happening in
his head and sit back to let it breathe.

He closes his eyes and
starts speaking so softly, we can barely hear him at first.

“
It’s a perfect day for candlelight, let it
cast its shadow.

It’s a perfect day for
apathy.

It’s a perfect day for
tragedy, eclipsed by a moment in time.

It’s a perfect day,
why not today?

It’s a perfect day,
don’t wait up for a tearful goodbye.

It’s a perfect day for
illusion.

It’s a perfect day for
solace, I’ll make this easy on you.

Don’t you worry, it’s
a perfect day, why not today?

Can you hear me,
screaming some lie, disguising the truth

Can you see me,
bleeding, I’m unraveling

Shattering

Do you remember what
you told me, ‘Everything has its place and time?’

Well, that’s fine, you
can look away, you’re just proving it’s the perfect day.”

He stops, and I’m
certain none of us is breathing. We can’t risk changing the silence, the
significance of the moment. We just absorb it, Luke’s devastating words echoing
around us, reminding us how close we can be to pain without feeling it.

I manage to inch back
to Casey and lean against him. As soon as we touch, his arms encircle me and
pull me close with an urgency that breaks my heart. I can feel him bury his
face in my hair, and I clasp his hands to my chest, gripping hard. I can’t tell
if he’s crying, but I know he’s a mess, too. We all are. But for the first time
our disaster is out in the open for us to pick through together. I also know
it’s finally time.

“What’s The Chair,
Luke? What’s its power?” I ask gently, somehow sensing he needs to tell us.

He nods in response,
almost as if he’d been expecting the question. I can feel Casey’s attention
shift back to Luke as well, and we are both holding our breath, bracing for the
ghost.

“Things were really
bad with Elena,” Luke begins, quietly. “They had been for a long time, but…I
loved her… God, I loved her so much...I just couldn’t stop hurting her!” Luke’s
voice is suddenly violent, “saturated with the self-hatred” Casey had described
that one night. The tears come again, to all of us this time, but there’s
nothing we can do but watch. Luke has to finish shattering.

 
“We’d talked that day,” he continues
after a long, painful pause. He wipes his cheeks with a rough hand. “She
couldn’t take it anymore, the way things were. She wanted to try to work things
out. I agreed to meet her that night at a little café called Jemma’s. One last
shot to fix things.”

A sob escapes him and
he presses his fists to his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. Finally, he looks
up again, his eyes so full, so haunted, I’m completely paralyzed.

“I didn’t show…” he
whispers in horror. “No, worse than that. I ended up in a hotel room getting
wasted with two girls I didn’t even know. I just…I just left her there! Fucking
abandoned her!”

His hands are shaking
as he suddenly pulls out his phone. He scrolls through it with a delicate
violence and stops suddenly, his eyes filling again. After a brief pause, he closes
them and passes the phone to us, almost dropping it from the trembling. I glance
at the screen and gasp, my pulse pounding.

It’s a photo from
Elena. Just a simple picture. Innocuous to anyone else, but horrifying to those
who recognize that ugly, battered, vacant diner chair.

I choke at the caption
below it:

“Guess I’m talking
to a ghost tonight? Fuck you, Luke. I hate you.”

“I left her there to
die,” he whispers, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She killed herself shortly
after she gave up and left.” His eyes turn hostile as he shakes his head. “No,
sorry, wait. No! I killed her that night,” he hisses. “I was supposed to be
there! I should have been in that chair! But I’m not, am I! I’m not there!” he
cries, furious. “If I had, if I’d just…”

He breaks down
completely, and this time it’s Casey who closes the gap. He embraces Luke, and
my heart explodes in my chest at the sight.

“I need you to forgive
me,” Luke sobs. “Forgive me for killing her. Please!” he pleads, his eyes wild,
desperate, and Casey nods, tears drowning his own.

“I do,” he whispers.
“You know I do. Just come back to us, ok?”

We don’t move for a
long time. Casey holding Luke, me serving as a witness to this latest miracle,
all of us thinking about the ghost chair locked in the office down the hall. I
want to destroy it. Crush it into the unrecognizable pile of garbage it is, but
it’s not my demon to kill.

“She called me, too, that
night,” Casey says quietly.

We both stare at him
in shock.

He nods and draws in a
ragged breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know what she was planning to do. I thought
it was weird that she called just to say she loved me and was proud of me. But
I didn’t ask. I didn’t understand until after…until they called and said... And
then…” He stops and meets Luke’s gaze. “I’m the last person she spoke to. Me! I
had a chance to help, and I didn’t. Maybe it’s just as much my fault for not
stopping her. For not loving my sister enough to recognize a suicide note when
it slaps me in the face.”

“Casey…” Luke says,
but Casey pulls away and wipes his eyes.

“I blamed myself for a
long time, too, but now I know that blaming only helps if it has the power to
change us. To make us better.” Casey meets Luke’s gaze, almost pleading with
him, yet gentle at the same time. “Elena’s death made us better, Luke. And now
we have a chance to make it matter. To make her matter!”

Luke clenches his jaw,
and I can tell Casey’s words struck hard. He stares at the far wall, his mind
clearly taking off in many directions at once.

“She matters, Case,”
he whispers, looking up at him again. “So much.”

Casey nods. “I know
she does. I know.” He squeezes Luke’s arm, and glances at me. I smile through
my tears, so full of compassion and love I can’t even speak. He seems to
understand anyway as his eyes soften and he returns a weak smile of his own.

We’re silent again.
All of us, but it’s different this time. It’s softer, more comforting. We’re
exhausted from what just happened, and I finally force myself up from the
couch. I don’t know why, but suddenly, I can only think of one thing. One
ending to this incredible, horrible, impossible night.

“I’m going to make
some tea,” I announce.

I’m met with two
shocked stares that quickly transform into perfect grins.

“Tea sounds great,”
Luke sighs.

∞∞∞

Luke takes his tea to his room, and I place a
second steaming cup in front of Casey who’s perched at the island.

“I can’t believe
you’re getting two jaded rockers to trade in their whisky for Earl Grey.”

“Lady Grey,” I
correct.

“Lady Grey?”

“Lady Grey. It’s
milder.”

He gives me a
skeptical look. “You’re making me drink a tea called ‘Lady Grey’? You realize
this could ruin my career, right?”

“And you will love
it,” I assure him, rounding the counter to his side.

“Oh, will I?”

I nod with a sly grin
and force his stool around to face me.

“Oh yeah.”

I slide my hands
around his waist, forgetting all about the tea. “Besides, you still owe me a
research study,” I tease, gripping his shirt and pulling him off the chair.

“Huh?”

“You know, an
empirical investigation of whether I like you better with or without clothing?”

His expression turns
mischievous as it clicks. “Hmm…that’s right. Well, you know me. I’m all about
science,” he returns.

“Good. I was counting
on that,” I reply, moving my grasp to the waist of his jeans.

I pull him against me,
forcing our bodies together, loving every desperate ache of the mounting
tension. His eyes intensify, tracing me, searching me. When his addictive grin breaks,
every cell in my body erupts. I wonder if that smile will always make me this
crazy.

I can feel the violent
thump of his pulse, the hard pressure of his muscles, his hips, braced against mine.
I want him so much I can’t concentrate on anything else.

 
“So, which is it? On or off?” he
whispers, torturing me with a long, hungry kiss that leaves me gasping.

“Off. Definitely off,”
I breathe, pulling him toward the couch.

Wednesday
& Thursday.

I wake up beside Casey in the guest room several
hours later. Slivers of light are peeking around the seams of the curtains on
the window, so I know it’s well into the morning. He’s still asleep, and I
study his peaceful face for a while.

I can’t believe last
night happened. Even more unbelievable is the fact that I don’t have to lie
here regretting it, aching over a euphoric anomaly. Last night could be tonight
or tomorrow night or the next night, or all of those nights. We’re Casey and
Callie now, however, whenever, whatever, we want. It almost doesn’t seem fair
to the rest of the world.

I trace his hand
resting by my pillow, part of me wishing he’d sleep for hours so we could stay
like this. The other part missing his smile, his laughter, and counting the
seconds until he wakes.

Apparently, he’s a
light sleeper because a second later I’m staring into those dark, playful eyes.

“Morning,” he mutters.

“Morning,” I return
with a smile.

His own smile breaks
through his sleepy expression, and he turns to his back, stretching.

“What time is it?” he
asks, and I realize I have no idea.

“I don’t know. Does it
matter?”

“I guess not.” He
glances back at me. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

He nods. “Hungry?”

“A little. I should
shower first, though. I’m sure Eli and Sweeny will be up here any minute, if
they aren’t already.”

Casey grunts. “Good
point. I forgot about them.” He gives me a sly look. “Like I said, you can be
very distracting.”

I laugh and take a swing,
but he catches my arm against his chest. I try to pull away as he holds firm, but
quickly realize I like this position a lot better and settle against him.

“We could just tell
them we’re sick and stay here all day,” he suggests with a glint.

“Nice plan, genius.
They’d be right outside the door!”

“We could be quiet!”

“Ha! Yeah right. Nice
try,” I smirk, although I know if I don’t move soon, I will be the one constructing
conspiracies to stay. I will never understand how someone can look so good
first thing in the morning. I’m sure I don’t. I force myself to pull away, and
he finally lets me go. It almost hurts to separate from him, and I have to
fight the urge to climb back into his arms. There’s no way I’d be able to leave
then.

Shower. That was it. I
was going to take a shower. Maybe a very cold one.

“Shower’s big enough
for two…” he says as if reading my mind.

I roll my eyes and
laugh when I see he’s not serious.

“The shower’s big
enough for five. We could all fit,” I return, sliding off the bed.

He makes a face and
tosses a pillow at me.

∞∞∞

Eli and Sweeny are in the kitchen, along with
Luke, when I emerge from the guest room, but Casey’s missing. They must notice
my confused search and tell me he went to get us breakfast. I force a smile,
hating that a ridiculous part of me is actually disappointed, that I can’t be
apart from him for twenty minutes without missing him. Of course, they didn’t
spend last night with him.

I can feel Luke’s gaze
and wonder what he’s thinking. Can he tell I’m falling in love with his best
friend? Can Casey? I wonder if Casey feels the same way. If not, I’m going to
have to get control of this train before it crashes head-on into a wall. I had
promised Casey he couldn’t break me and I intend to keep that promise.

“So are you guys
working on the song today?” I ask, mostly to make conversation as I move to the
stove to start a pot of water.

“That’s the plan,”
Sweeny responds. “Our trailer is supposed to get here by 3PM so we can get
really serious after that.”

I nod. “Does anyone
else want tea?”

I can feel Luke’s amusement
and cast him a quick glance.

“You and your tea,” he
teases.

“What? Don’t even
pretend you didn’t like it,” I warn.

He smiles and leans
back in his stool. “Actually, it wasn’t bad. I’m man enough to admit that.”

“What, you’re a
tea-drinker now? What happened to you, bro?” Eli asks.

Luke shrugs. “Yeah, it’s
true. You’ve got to watch this girl. She may be small, but she will uproot your
world before you even know what’s happening.”

“She certainly got to
Casey,” Sweeny smirks, and I shake my head in disbelief.

“Yeah, because a shy
poet from Shelteron, PA is going to be able to boss you superstars around.
Please,” I mutter. I can feel their humor behind me as I set to work on my tea.

“Ha! You’ve done
nothing but boss us around since the day we met,” Luke counters.

I spin around with a
mock glare. “Oh, like you didn’t need a good kick in the ass,” I quip, and the
others laugh. Even Luke grins and shakes his head.

“I didn’t say I
didn’t. Just that you excel at it,” Luke defends.

Eli laughs. “Man, Baby
Casey’s got his hands full…”

“You know our boy. He’d
have it no other way,” Sweeny returns, and I roll my eyes at all of them.

“So was that a no or a
yes to the tea?” I ask.

They smirk, and we all
turn toward the door when it crashes open. I rush to help Casey as he shuffles
inside, hands and arms full of bags and drink carriers.

I almost choke when I
catch a glimpse of the logo.

“Jemma’s?” I ask.

He grins, and as usual
his sweet gesture threatens to unravel me.

“Thought we could all
use some French toast, and since you two are banned from the premises…”

Luke laughs while Casey
drops the rest of his load on the counter and begins distribution.

“Coffee. Coffee.
Coffee. And…tea.” He kisses my cheek as he hands me my cup, and my heart just
about bursts in my chest. There’s just no way he’s real.

“I’m assuming there’s
a story here,” Sweeny interrupts, eyeing his container of French toast with
suspicion.

“Breakfast club was at
Jemma’s Café,” Luke explains. “It’s how we all met.”

“This is so sweet,
Case, really,” I say, not wanting to embarrass him, but unable to hold it in
any longer. His grin is priceless, and I can’t stop my arm from wrapping around
his waist. He gives me a quick squeeze back, and I let go.

“Aww, you want a kiss
from me, too, Case?” Sweeny teases, leaning forward with puckered lips.

“Shut up,” Casey
snaps, shoving him away. “Eat your food.”

I laugh, just as my
teapot starts to whistle. “I was going to force them all to drink tea,” I
explain, removing the pot from the burner. “They owe you for rescuing them.”

“This actually isn’t
bad,” Eli comments through a mouthful of bread.

“It’s the powdered
sugar,” I explain, and I can see Luke and Casey trying not to laugh.

“Huh?”

I can feel their amused
looks, and it’s too much.

“I’m kidding,” I say
to Eli when my smile breaks. “We talked about the powdered sugar for a good
five minutes the first time we had it. Long story.”

“Oh, hey! I was
thinking about the intro to ‘Greetings,’ and I think Sweeny should do that lick
after the piano,” Casey announces, all business.

“The bridge lick?”
Sweeny asks, and Casey nods.

I can see their minds
working. “Before the rest of the band comes in?” Eli asks.

Casey shakes his head
and cuts into his French toast. “No, no, at the same time. With the drums,
bass, and rhythm.”

Their eyes change, and
I can tell they like it.

“Yeah, ok. Maybe. What
do you think?” Sweeny asks Luke.

Luke shrugs. “I think
it would work. It’s a pretty in-your-face song so why not hit them early.”

“You said the trailer
is here at 3:00?” Casey asks, and Eli grunts.

“Supposedly. They’re
supposed to call the second they roll in.”

Casey nods. “I talked
to that Mara lady on my way out. She said they have a room we can use.”

“Private?” Luke asks.
“We don’t need any of this leaking out.”

“She says yes. In the
basement.”

Luke nods. “Ok.” He
turns to me. “Can you stand watch just to make sure?”

“Can I have a black
‘Security’ t-shirt?”

Luke rolls his eyes
and shoves me.

∞∞∞

Even though the equipment hasn’t arrived yet, the
guys want to scope out the rehearsal space and make sure it will work. They
seem impressed with the size and seclusion of the storage room Mara shows them,
and her tight face actually appears to approach an outright smile at the fact
that Night Shifts Black is working on their new single in the basement of her
hotel.

“Let us know what you
need, if there’s anything else we can get for you,” Mara gushes.

Luke glances around
the room. “This is great, Mara. Probably just a small table and some chairs, I
guess. Maybe a few bottles of water?”

She nods. “Absolutely,
Mr. Craven. I’ll take care of that right away.”

She hesitates for
another moment, as if still trying to piece together this incredible development
in her head.

“Thanks, Mara. We
appreciate it,” Luke says, guiding her toward the door.

She even smiles at me
on her way out, and I can’t help but snicker.

“I think she’s
starting to warm up to me,” I comment after she’s gone. “At the very least,
accepting the fact that I will continue to exist.”

Luke laughs and shakes
his head. “You’re too hard on her. Do you have any idea how many people she has
to thwart on a daily basis?”

I hadn’t thought of
that. “Fine. Good point,” I concede with a sigh. “Ok, well, I guess I’ll go wait
for your chairs and water while you work,” I say, moving toward the door, but
Casey grabs my arm.

“Not a chance,” he
barks, surprising me. He smiles to lighten his tone. “You’re not our road
manager, Callie. It’s not going to be like that, got it? We pay people to get
us water and chairs. Not you.”

I swallow, slightly
embarrassed, but mostly touched more than anything. “I know, I just…”

“You like to take care
of people, and I love you for it, but we need you here, ok? This is as much
your song as ours.”

I stare at him in
disbelief, speechless, and then my eyes flicker to Luke who only shrugs with a
grin of his own.

“He’s got a point,”
Luke agrees. “Besides, our security team needs to stay with us. Things could
get dicey.”

I laugh in
exasperation. “Ok, ok. But I’m going to be the best darn bootleg-recording-thwarter
you’ve ever seen.”

Casey extends his
hand. “Deal. But only if you promise to work on more songs while you’re waiting
to thwart.”

I grin and squeeze his
hand. “Deal. But only if you promise to make-out with me on your breaks.”

The others roar, and
Casey looks stunned before shooting me a mock glare. I’m pretty sure he’s
actually blushing.

“I knew there was no
way you could handle her!” Sweeny laughs, smacking him on the back. “Called
that.”

Casey rolls his eyes
but rewards me with a grin.

∞∞∞

The trailer arrives a few hours later, and the
band and small crew who delivered it get to work unloading its contents. I can
tell this is second nature to them, and suspect I’ll only be interfering if I
try to help, so I stand back, holding doors for the most part. Casey looks like
a little kid again as he moves his toys into the storage room, and I love
watching him unpack his drums from their cases. He sets to work with an
expertise that shouldn’t surprise me, and yet does, once again. One day I’ll get
used to his brilliance, but I think it will probably take a while.

Eli and Sweeny work on
their own equipment, and even Luke joins the effort. I had wondered if they
were going to send his stuff, and am happy that he seems happy they did. I
can’t believe how much that trailer held, and am in shock that the large
storage room now seems tiny, crammed with instruments, stands, and monitors.
Eli, Luke, and Sweeny connect their guitars to large boards which are lined
with smaller boxes and connected to amps.

“It’s a pedal board,”
Luke explains as I study the little blinking lights and buttons. “Listen.”

He starts to play, and
I notice all kinds of changes to the sound depending on what he hits with his
foot.

“Got it,” I say.

He returns to tuning
and playing with his boxes as I maneuver toward Casey. Casey has his kit fully
assembled now and is in the process of adjusting it when I approach.