By Degrees (37 page)

“No, he’s no Austin.”
 
Scott sounds bitter.

“Don’t say it like that.
 
He’s not a bad person.”

“No.
 
He’s just a spoiled asshole.”

“Stop.
 
Come on, you know that’s not true.”

“I just don’t like that you like him.
 
That’s my truth.”
 
He’s pouting, lower lip sticking out and everything.

“Oh, I see what this is all about.
 
You want me for yourself.”
 
I smile despite the pain, knowing this will gross him out.

“That’s just sick.
 
Now I’m picturing you without your clothes on and that’s just … wrong.”
 
He stands.
 
“I need to go wash my eyeballs off with soap.”
 
He disappears into my bathroom and I laugh through the terrible pain my body moving causes me.

The main door opens and Tarin steps partway in.
 
“Mind if I come in?”

“No, I don’t mind.”
 
I hate that my heart goes soft just seeing him standing there.
 
Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just faced the wrong end of a gun, but the whole world looks different to me, and he’s included in that world.
 
He’s the main focus of it.

He mumbles something to someone over his shoulder and then comes in, shutting the door behind him.
 
“How are you feeling?”

“Better.
 
Safer.”

Tarin takes the chair Scott just vacated and pulls it closer.
 
His worried face is so close, it makes me both nervous and excited.
 
My pulse picks up its pace and sweat breaks out on my back and forehead.

“I can’t believe that shit happened,” he says.
 
“I am
so
sorry.
 
I really am.
 
The doctor wasn’t supposed to say anything to me, but he told me your ribs are only badly bruised.
 
You’re going to be okay.
 
I’m so, so sorry that it happened.
 
God, I feel like such an asshole.”

“Yes, I know.
 
And you can stop apologizing.
 
It’s not your fault.
 
Not really.”

“Don’t lie.
 
We both know I’m to blame.
 
I brought her crazy ass up to the lawyer’s office for crissake.”
 
He drops his head, shaking it slowly.
 
“When will I ever learn?
 
Playing with fire gets you burned every single time.”

I hate that the atmosphere is going so dark so fast.
 
I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
 
“Tell me about
By Degrees
.”

He looks up, confused.
 
“What?”

“Tell me about the band name.
 
Where’s it from?”
 
None of Scott’s research had uncovered the story behind the name.
 
Now seems as good a time as any to bring it up.
 
I need to distract him from the whole scene I just suffered through with Posey.
 
Just thinking about her makes me want to clobber someone, and Tarin is way too close to be safe from my ire.

Frowning, he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out right away.
 
Then the door to the bathroom opens and Scott comes in, cutting off whatever Tarin was about to say.

“Oh.
 
You’re here.” Scott sounds very unhappy about the idea.

Tarin turns.
 
“Yeah.”
 
He stands and walks over to Scott.
 
“Listen, man … I’m sorry.
 
I know how close you two are, and I just want you to know how sorry I am this happened to her.
 
I’m taking the blame.”

“Good, cuz you should.
 
It’s your fault.”

“Scott!” I struggle to sit up, but give up when the pain makes it too difficult.

“If you hadn’t messed around with that chick earlier, she never would have thought it would be okay to go to your house.
 
You practically invited her in.
 
You can’t manage fans like that.
 
Too many of them get the wrong idea.”

“I know, man, I know that now.
 
I’m sorry, I made a mistake.”

Scott scoffs at that.
 
“
A
mistake?
 
As in
one
?
 
Yeah, right.
 
Be honest.
 
It wasn’t just one mistake.
 
You keep making them, don’t you?”
 
He looks over at me, and I get the distinct impression he considers me one of those mistakes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask Scott.
 
This temper tantrum is coming out of nowhere.
 
Yeah, I got hurt, but the only one really at fault here is Posey. I don’t know why he wants to lay it at Tarin’s feet so badly.

“Just take it easy,” says Tarin.
 
“I’m going to make sure nothing like this happens again.”

“I’m already on that,” says Scott, moving past Tarin to get to the door.
 
He looks over at me.
 
“I’m going to make some calls and pull in some more security.
 
Just tell the nurse if you need me.
 
They all have my number.
 
I’ll be here in the hospital, and I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Thanks, Scott.”
 
Now’s not the time to rip him the new one I think he’s begging for, so I leave it at that.
 
The door clicks shut quietly behind him.

Tarin stares at the door.
 
“He really doesn’t like me, does he?”

I sigh heavily.
 
“No, he does.
 
He’s just worried about me.
 
I’m pretty much all he’s got and he’s just freaking out a little.”

Tarin comes over and sits down.
 
“I thought he had a dad still alive somewhere.”

“He does, but he lives really far away and he’s retired … totally not the place Scott wants to be or would be happy in.
 
He likes it out here in L.A., but if I wasn’t here, I don’t know if he’d stay.”

“You guys are tight.”

“Yes.
 
Very.”

“Maybe he likes you.
 
You know … maybe he’s jealous.”

“No, that’s not it.
 
He’s like my brother.
 
But he’s got nothing to be jealous of anyway.”
 
My heart spasms at my words and the awkward silence that rises up to smother me.
 
I have to focus not to breathe heavily with the stress.

“Yeah.”
 
Tarin clears his throat.
 
“So … uh … you wanted to know about the band name?”

“Yes,” I say, happy to be on solid ground again, “tell me.
 
Where’s it from?
 
Did you come up with it?”

He starts picking at the hospital bracelet on my wrist.
 
“My last name is Kilgour.
 
It’s Scottish.”
 
The bracelet goes around and around as he spins it and talks.
 
“Every clan in Scotland has a motto, and the one for the Kilgour clan is
By degrees
.”

“Oh.
 
That’s cool.”

“But it’s more than that to me.”

“Tell me,” I say, unable to tear my gaze from his face.
 
He’s wide open, laying himself bare to me.
 
I feel as though I’m the only person in the world he’s shared this with.

“You know how you see something and you think ‘I could never do that’ or you think ‘That’ll never happen to me’?”

“Yeah …”

“It’s not true.
 
You have to know that those things aren’t true.”
 
He pounds my hand gently with his fist to emphasize his words.
 
“Just.
 
Not.
 
True.”

I frown, wondering if the pain medication is interfering in my ability to understand what he’s saying.
 
“I don’t get it.”

“By degrees is a way to get past any obstacle.
 
It’s also the way things can change in your life and you can become something you would never imagine for yourself.
 
By degrees … little by little.”

My throat closes up and gets sore with unshed tears.
 
I can’t stop thinking about my past.

“Like Austin,” he says, reading my mind and making me feel sick again.
 
“He was the coolest guy, you know?
 
I knew him when his career was just taking off.
 
I was a nobody, but he took time to introduce me to people, to get me gigs, to make sure people listened to me.
 
Even when I was doing things that other people were saying would never work, he believed in me.”

“Yeah.
 
He was good like that.”
 
I want to cry for the loss of Austin’s kindness all over again.
 
But all the tears I had for that are gone and the only thing left is a dull ache.

Tarin continues.
 
“But you know … he started to change.
 
It wasn’t abrupt or big things.
 
Just little by little. By degrees. First thing I noticed was him not returning calls.
 
He got too busy for everyone.
 
Then he started being a dick to fans and other new guys coming up on the scene.”

“And other people who loved him,” I whisper, adding to Austin’s list of offenses.
 
It feels wrong to join in, but I do it anyway.
 
He did so many hurtful things before he died.
 
It makes me angry to remember some of them, but saying them out loud is almost like therapy, like maybe if I launch the bad stuff out in the air around me, it can stop eating me up from inside.

“Yeah.
 
He was a dick to the people who loved him.
 
To you and Scott.
 
Then came the drugs and the … well, the other stuff.”

“The other girls, you mean.
 
Don’t worry … I know about them too.”

“Yeah.”
 
Tarin drops his gaze again and puts his warm hand over my cold one.
 
“Austin went from being my hero to a being guy I hated, but it didn’t happen overnight.
 
It happened by degrees.
 
That’s how it always works.
 
Little by little, things fall away.
 
People change.
 
You let things fall away and lose them forever.
 
Yourself, even.
 
People lose themselves, but it never happens quickly enough.
 
It goes so slow, in such small increments, you don’t even notice it until it’s too late.”

I almost can’t get the words out, but I know they have to be said.
 
“You went from being a talented musician with a promising future to being a man who reminds me way too much of another.”

I hear the loud swallow that nearly chokes Tarin.
 
“I know,” he whispers.
 
“I’m a fuck-up.
 
A class-A, number one fuck-up.
 
I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with me.”

I turn my hand over and lace my fingers with his.
 
“You’re not a waste of time.
 
We’re going to fix this.
 
This is my job.
 
This is what I do, and I’m good at it.”

He looks up at me and his expression is nothing less than tortured.
 
“I wasn’t talking about your job.”

I rewind his words in my head.
 
I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with me
.

Tarin lifts my hand and kisses my fingers, wrapping his other hand over ours and enclosing my hand completely inside his.
 
“Is this how it always is for you and your … clients?
 
Do they all just get so wrapped up in what you do that they totally fall for you?”

“What?”
 
His words don’t compute.
 
I try to pull my hand away, but he doesn’t let it go.

“Jack did.
 
I know he did.
 
That’s why he wrote that song.
 
I heard the lyrics.
 
He sent me the mp3 of it last night and I listened to the whole thing.
 
You’re his muse.”

I finally succeed in yanking my hand away.
 
“No, I’m not.
 
I’m nothing to him.
 
We’re just friends.
 
I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
 
Never mind Jack.
 
The fact that Tarin’s confessing something to me, about
feeling
something for me, is freaking me out.
 
It doesn’t matter that I was just doing the same thing about him to Scott.
 
I never expected Tarin to go soft on me, to somehow convince himself he was falling for me.
 
It was okay in my mind when it was all one-sided.

“This isn’t …”
 
Tarin looks stricken.
 
He scrapes his chair back and stands.
 
Running his fingers through his hair, he stammers through a goodbye.
 
“Okay.
 
So, I … uh … have to go.
 
I’ve got … stuff to do and a meeting …”
 
He moves backwards to the door.
 
“You coming back to the house?”

“Yes.
 
For now.
 
If that’s okay.”

He’s back to being cool.
 
“Yeah, yeah.
 
That’s fine.
 
Stay as long as you want.
 
I’ll see you there later.”
 
He looks at me quietly for a few seconds. The silence stretches between us until I want to throw the sheet over my face and hide.
 
I can’t stand to see all the emotion torturing his mind and reflected in his eyes.