Savage Rhythm (31 page)

Which now meant writing a book about heartbreak.

So she wrote. She stopped thinking about what it should be, and only wrote what was. What she knew of it. And around day three, she started to see how much she
didn’t
know. What big, giant holes there were in her knowledge of what had happened to Declan, and what had happened to the band, and, even, in the way that those unknowns had impacted Declan’s life, what had happened to her.

Molly needed Soren. She’d almost called Jim so many times, sure that he knew where Soren was—hell, Molly was pretty sure she had figured it out herself. And talking to Soren might help her understand so many things.

So why was she afraid?

In the end, she got to stay chicken. Jim called her.

“Do you know what I had to go through to get this number?” he demanded. “Like a game of telephone with you people. You couldn’t call to cancel our fishing trip?”

Molly was stunned silent.

“I’m kidding,” Jim said dryly. “C’mon, laugh a little. Humor me.”

Molly did laugh. Well, more of a laugh-cry. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks, Jim.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jim said. “Sorry my nephew is an idiot. I promise he’s not all dumb, he just gets up his own ass sometimes. That’s kind of why I’m calling—where are you?”

“I’m home,” she said, confused.

“Jesus, breakups make everybody stupid. Where is home? Gimme an address.”

“Why?”

There was a silence.

“I’m betting you know why.”

The next day Soren Andersson showed up at her door.

***

“So,” Soren said, taking his sunglasses off. The sun reflecting off of his pale blond hair was blinding. Molly almost didn’t believe that he was real. “You going to ask me in?”

“Um, yes,” Molly said. Every single wheel in her head had tried to turn at once and had apparently jammed. She stepped back. “Come in.”

Soren walked into her trailer like he was surveying his territory. The only other person Molly had seen who moved like that was Declan. She had no idea how these two men had ever occupied the same place at the same time without the universe imploding.

Soren looked over the shining, spotless house, then turned that naked gaze on Molly. His eyes went up and down. Up and down.

Her instinct was to cover up, even though she was fully clothed.

“You’ve been crying,” Soren said. It wasn’t a question.

“That’s none of your business,” she said.

“Yes it is.”

Infuriating. Completely, totally infuriating. Especially because he was right. And more than that, Molly needed him, and he knew it. She needed to know exactly what had happened between him, Bethany, and Declan six months ago. She needed to know for the book, but more than that, she needed to know for her own sanity.

Molly watched helplessly as Soren moved farther in, taking in the couch, the recliner. He picked the old recliner, what had been her father’s chair way back when, and sprawled across it like a king.

“You go around asking questions about my life,” Soren said, watching her. “You got involved with my brother. You’re my business.”

“Your brother?” she said.

“That’s what he is.”

“Then why haven’t you spoken in six months?”

Soren ignored her. He looked for the lever on the side and put the chair back a bit, smiling as he did so.

“Comfy,” he said.

Molly caught an impulse to stamp her foot, like a child trying to command attention. Soren had that effect. Instead, she crossed her arms and said, “Why are you here? If you’re not going to answer my questions, if you’re not going to help me, why are you here?”

He looked directly at her. Ice blue eyes. She was locked in place.

“I’m here because Declan deserves to be happy,” he said. “So you need to give him another shot.”

Molly stared at him. And then, damn it, the tears came back. Now she really did stamp her foot, cursing, willing her eyes to stay dry. Declan had turned the waterworks on and then thrown away the wrench and now she was just doomed to embarrass herself in every possible situation. She lost every last bit of patience she had left.

“He doesn’t
want
another shot!” she shouted. “He hasn’t asked for one. He does. Not. Want. Me.”

“Trust me,” Soren said calmly. “He does.”

“I called him,” Molly said. “
I
called
him
, after the way he left me, and a woman answered.”

“Bethany,” he nodded.

“I knew it was fucking Bethany,” Molly said. It still pissed her off.

“You don’t think a woman should go visit the man who saved her life after she gets out of the hospital?” Soren asked. “Don’t be like that. Don’t be unreasonable.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Soren Andersson,” he smiled. “And you know better than that, Molly Ward. You know Declan better than that. You know he’s the kind of guy who would carry a woman who’d taken every damn pill she could find all the way to the emergency room, and then pay for her fucking expensive six-month treatment program at a private psychiatric hospital, all without ever wanting, or getting, anything from her in return, besides knowing that she was better off for it.”

Molly felt all of her anger deflate in one sorry breath and walked over to the couch to sit down and cry. That anger had been holding her up. Now all she had left was the loss.

“I’m a moron,” she said, crying quietly. “I am a total moron.”

“Who isn’t?” Soren shrugged.

“Is Declan ok?” she asked, looking up. “Have you talked to him? Are you guys friends again?”

Soren leaned forward suddenly, urgently, showing himself for the first time with a shocking intensity. Molly was transfixed.

“No, he is not fucking ok,” he said. “He’s a wreck. And no, we are not talking.”

“So Jim tells you about him.”

“Jim tells me about him. And you.”

“You were staying there. When we came to visit.”

“I went for a drive. Thought I’d be a fourth wheel.”

Molly scooted forward on the old couch. “Can you fix this, Soren? Can you fix this thing between you? Because the thing is, and I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or what’s wrong with him, but I know he’s hurting, too. And I don’t know if he can hurt both ways at once. I think he needs something.”

Soren blinked. “Are you seriously asking me to be there for Declan after he’s broken your heart? Because you’re worried about him?”

“Yes,” Molly said miserably. “I mean, I go back and forth between that and wanting to kick his ass, but yes. Is that so much weirder than you showing up to help get his girlfriend back after he’s kicked you out of his life?”

“You love him,” Soren said.

Molly just looked at the floor. “So?”

“Jesus, you’re both idiots. Don’t get me wrong, Declan is the idiot in chief on this one, but you are definitely pulling your weight. You should have told him you loved him.”

“I told you,” Molly said, pointing at herself with both thumbs. “Moron.”

Soren laughed. “Aren’t you angry?”

“Yes.”

“So what is it going to take to get you two idiots back together?”

Molly rubbed her eyes and took a good look at the reclusive rock star sitting in her dad’s old recliner, playing matchmaker between her and the man she loved. Right. This was happening.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why he did this. So I don’t see a way out of it.”

“You know he blames himself for his mother’s death, don’t you?” Soren asked. “You have any idea what that does to someone?”

“Of course I don’t,” Molly whispered. “It’s unimaginable.”

“He was responsible for her his whole life. And then she died. She
chose
to die rather than be his mother. And he found her. You don’t have to be a shrink to figure what that would do to a little kid. And then,” Soren said, running both hands through his white blond hair, “there’s what I did.”

This was it. The question. Softly, she said, “What happened, Soren?”

For the first time since he’d shown up at her house like some previously undiscovered force of nature, Soren looked shaken. Human. Vulnerable.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m telling you this,” he said. “Fucking Declan gets me to do the stupidest things, even when he’s not here. The short answer is: I left Bethany to kill herself. I fucked her for a few months, I was an asshole the whole time, and when I found out she was popping pills…”

He trailed off, then looked directly at Molly. “Look, everyone has their hang-ups, that’s mine. I don’t deal with that shit. At all. And she lied about it. So I dumped her. And when she told me she was going to kill herself if I left, I told her to fucking do it, because that was some manipulative bullshit right there. And then I left.”

“That kind of does sound like manipulative bullshit,” Molly said quietly.

“Yeah, but then
she did it
,” he said. “Look, bottom line? I fucked a girl I knew to be emotionally unstable, was a dick to her the way I am to every woman I screw, and then left her when she made a threat to harm herself. And Declan found her. Knowing what you know about Declan, do you think he should forgive me?”

“Yes,” Molly said. She meant it.

Soren wasn’t prepared for that. He sat back and looked at her. Just looked.

After a while, he said, “Listen, if he forgave me, it would mean he’d have to forgive himself, too. He saw himself in what I did, which is fucked up, but which is also totally understandable, and makes my behavior…just a whole new level of wrong. I might not deserve forgiveness, but Declan does, because he never did anything wrong. He doesn’t deserve to feel the way he does, and never has. He’s not trying to hurt you or pull some commitment-phobe stupidity or anything else. He’s trying to protect you from himself, because he loves you so damn much. And because when he loves people, he thinks it means something terrible is going to happen to them.”

Molly let the tears run down her cheeks freely, not even caring anymore. She felt like she was listening to a death sentence.

“So that’s it?” she asked. “There’s no hope? He’s just doomed to be miserable and alone forever, and I have to live without him?”

“The fuck if I know,” Soren said, launching himself off of the recliner. “I’ve been working on him, trying to get him to forgive himself, for sixteen fucking years, Molly, and you’ve gotten closer than I ever have in just a few weeks. You have any beer?”

“Check the fridge.”

Soren opened the old fridge, leaning on the open door like he knew the place. He looked back over his shoulder. “This is like a bachelor fridge.”

“I’m moving.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing two PBRs and tossing one to her. “What I’m saying, Molly, is that if Declan has any hope at all, it’s in you. Do with that what you will.”

Molly wiped her eyes and cracked open her beer. “What about you, Soren?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t pull that with me,” Molly snapped. “You didn’t try to kill her, Soren, you behaved badly in a relationship. People do it every day; it’s not a war crime. So maybe you were an asshole. Doesn’t mean you deserve to rot in Hell forever or be cut out of his life, especially not when he needs you in it. And when you obviously need him.”

Soren gave her a crooked grin, the kind of thing she could see working very effectively on the ladies. “I can see why he digs you,” Soren said. “He got lucky that you’re so hot.”

Molly had just opened her mouth, though she had no idea what she was going to say, when Soren’s phone rang. He got up and walked out the door, closing it behind him as he answered his phone. And it was after that that the phone calls from Declan stopped.

chapter
33

Declan was prepared for the phone to ring until it went to voicemail. He was not prepared to hear Soren’s voice.

“Hello?”

Speechless. For the first time in his life, Declan was speechless.

“Dude?”

“You picked up,” Declan said.

There was the sound of door opening and closing. Soren said, “Well, I’ve heard some stuff about you screwing up your life pretty badly. I figured you must be pretty desperate.”

Declan laughed. “Asshole.”

“Yup.”

“So we need to talk.”

This time it was Soren who took too long to speak. Finally, he said, “Yeah. I guess we do.”

“And I need your help with something,” Declan said. “You’re the only one I can ask, even though… Soren, I know I don’t deserve to even call you a friend—”

“Shut up, dumbass. You’re my brother. What the fuck do you need?”

Declan smiled broadly, but not because it was funny. Just because he felt
light
, for the first time in months, like the world had just come back into focus.

“There’s this girl,” Declan said.

“Yeah, Jim told me all about her. I’m here now.”

“What?” Declan said, sitting up. “You’re there? You’re with her right now?”

“Yeah. You ok?”

“Just tell me if she’s ok.”

“No, she’s not ok, dumbass, she has a broken heart.”

Declan cursed impressively, stalking around Volare L.A., looking for something to break.

“Dude,” Soren said. “Calm down. What did you expect? I came here to explain to her why you’re such a dumbass. I don’t know, I think it helped. She’s crying less, anyway.”

Declan started to laugh. He couldn’t believe how much more right his life was with Soren in it to call him on his shit, the only person in the world who could do that—besides Molly.

“You ok, bro?” Soren asked. “You’re sounding kind of crazy.”

“No, I am a dumbass. I don’t even know why. I am so fucking sorry, Soren, I never should have kicked you out. I never…”

“I’m sorry, too. What I did…”

They both went silent for a moment. There was too much there. Declan could hear Soren struggling. Finally, Soren said, “I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been thinking for six months about what to fucking say, and I have nothing. That’s why I just…I haven’t been able to face anyone, man. Except your girl. She just dragged it all out of me.”