Ripped: The Price of Loyalty by Tania Joyce

 

Chapter 5

Two steps into Gemma’s room and Kyle’s pace slowed. Something was going on. The charge in the air made the hairs on his arms prickle. Gemma pulled herself higher on the bed. Her beautiful green eyes had turned glassy, rimmed with redness, and she was unable to meet his gaze. Had she been crying? What did Hunter say to upset her?

Hunter sat beside her. On her bed. Next to her. Close.

Too close for Kyle’s liking.

Kyle threw the chicken wraps he’d bought for lunch onto Gemma’s tray table and dragged another one of the chairs over to sit beside Gemma, wedging it in between the bed and the IV machine.

“What’s up with you two?” Kyle didn’t know where to settle his gaze—on Gemma, who looked like she was about to throw up with the color draining from her face, or Hunter, whose eyes were set on Gemma.

“Do you want to tell him, or shall I?” Hunter brushed the tip of her nose with his finger.

Gemma shook her head and closed her eyes. Whatever it was, it was bad. Had the doctor visited while Kyle was away and given her some bad news? What was going on?

Kyle pulled his shoulders back and sucked in a deep breath. “Tell me what?”

Hunter’s smile stretched wide across his face, just like he had when they’d gotten standing ovations. “I asked Gemma to be my girlfriend. And she said yes.”

An invisible punch landed in Kyle’s guts. The blow shot the breath from his lungs. He fought against keeling over. “You what?” His eyes shot to Gemma, hoping this was a sick joke they were playing. But she lowered her head and drew her arms tightly across her stomach.

Then he saw it.

The nod.

Gemma’s barely-there nod.

“You’re going to go out with Hunter? Please tell me you’re not serious.” The words burned his throat. Anger coiled through him like hungry flames in search of a forest to burn. Digging his fingernails into his kneecaps, he glared at Hunter. “Gem has a wet dream, you think it’s about you, and suddenly you want to fuck her?”

“It’s not like that at all.” Hunter’s pitch hit the ceiling. “Kyle, this has been brewing for months.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you wanted to go out with her?” A cold fever broke out on Kyle’s brow. How could he criticize Hunter when he had never told Hunter he had feeling for Gemma either?

Hunter shrugged. “Timing was never right. But you’ll give us the thumbs up, won’t you?”

Kyle drew in a slow breath and shuddered. The excitement plastered on Hunter’s face was another sucker punch to his solar plexus. He clenched his jaw, his fist, and everything else humanly possible. Every muscle was like a rubber band about to snap. He needed to focus on something, anything to stop him from planting his fist into Hunter’s precious face.

The IV machine whirred beside him. The nurses’ muffled conversations drifted in from the corridor. A trolley cart wheeled past the door.

“I . . . I never saw this coming.” His voice was surreal, not his own. Then he turned to Gemma and his world stopped. Her shining eyes flickered with concern, but then she turned to Hunter and a glow radiated across her face. Kyle lowered his head, his heart lurched violently, and he slouched back in his chair.

He wanted her to look at him like that. Not Hunter.

He got it all wrong. She had feelings for Hunter, not him.

Damn it. Of all people. Why Hunter? His best friend. How was he going to watch Hunter be with the girl he loved?

“I never knew Hunt felt this way about me.” Gemma wrung her bed sheet in her hands.

“Me either,” Kyle mumbled.

In the span of fifteen minutes’ absence, Hunter and Gemma had become one, and his feelings were no longer a concern. He could never tell Gemma how he felt because he couldn’t deny the two people he loved and cared about their chance at happiness.

Nausea churned in Kyle’s gut. Acid burned up his esophagus and sent a bitter taste into his mouth. With true grit, he held his tongue. He wanted to say, “Gem, pick me instead.” He wanted to say, “No, you two can’t be together.” He wanted to say, “Gem, love me, not him.” But he swallowed the words swarming through his mind and told them what they wanted to hear. “You two will make . . . an awesome couple. Totally sick.”

“You’re not upset?” Gemma tugged at the bandage on her head.

Was that disappointment he saw on her face or was it just wishful thinking on his part? What did she expect? For him to yell and argue and protest? How could he? He couldn’t do that to his best friends.

“No.” He turned to face the window that was being pelted with rain so she couldn’t see his pain.

“Thanks, bud, you’re the best.” Hunter’s warm tone made Kyle’s gut twist and tumble. “I told you Kyle would be okay.”

Kyle’s jaw ached from clenching his teeth together, and the ringing in his ears grew louder. The walls were caving in around him and the air too thick to breathe. He needed to get of there. He needed fresh air. He needed to escape.

“I gotta go, um . . . home for a while. I’ll see you later, Gem. You get some rest.” Kyle jumped from his chair and it banged into the IV machine. He stepped forward, cupped Gemma’s face and pressed his lips to her forehead. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. He savored the feel of her silky brown hair against his fingertips, the scent of her cherry blossom shampoo, the touch of his lips against her soft skin.

Then, with the speed of an Amtrak Express, he turned, grabbed his wallet, his jacket, and his heart up off the floor and rushed out the door.

He needed a bar. A bottle of Jack Daniels. And he needed them quick.

***

Kyle burst outside the rear entrance of the hospital onto 76th Street and turned his face toward the raining sky.

“FUUUUUUUCK,” he screamed, long and hard, his voice ripping his throat like razors until every ounce of breath had escaped his lungs. The sound echoed through the narrow street, ricocheting off the surrounding buildings, and sent the birds that were sheltering from the icy spring rain scattering into the sky. Clutching his chest, Kyle collapsed against the brick wall of the hospital. The cold droplets of water stung his skin, trickled down his cheeks, and slowly numbed his flesh.

He’d lost her.

Just like that.

He’d lost Gemma.

He’d lost his chance to tell her how he felt.

And it didn’t matter anyway, because he’d made a mistake. He’d misread the signs – staying up all night writing songs with her in hotel rooms, talking until daylight broke when they should have been getting sleep, her hugs that felt like she never wanted to let go. He’d been a fool, delusional, to think he had a chance with her. Thank God he didn’t ask her out, because now it was obvious her interests lay elsewhere.

“Kyle?” Sam’s hand appeared under his elbow. His bodyguard had tailed him bolting from Gemma’s room. “Man, you look like crap. What’s happened?”

Kyle shrugged him off. “Leave me alone.”

“Put your damn coat on. It’s freezing out here.” Sam tugged his collar higher and avoided stepping in the muddy pools of water by the doorway. Up and down the street, soaking leaves drooped on the trees. Delivery trucks looked as if they shivered while waiting to be unloaded at the service entrance. Cars appeared miserable left outside in the cold and dreary rain.

With a grunt, Kyle slipped on his leather jacket and headed toward Lexington Avenue.

“Hey, man. Let me call the car to take you home,” Sam called from behind.

“No. I need a walk.”

“Are you fucking crazy? It’s raining. It’s freezing. Do you want to be swamped by the horde of fans that are staked out at the front of the hospital? You stand out like the Chrysler Building. I have to think of your safety.”

“Fuck off.” Kyle stomped his Nike into a muddy puddle, splashing slush onto his jeans.

Fuck it.

Fuck everything.

He swung his fist through the air, picturing Hunter’s face, and kept walking. He needed to be alone. He needed to calm down. Because right now, Kyle could only think the worst. He wanted to take every one of the priceless guitars in Hunter’s collection and smash them to pieces. He wanted to grab every piece of music equipment in their home studio and destroy it. But most of all, he wanted to find every piece of paper and song lyric he’d ever written about his love for Gemma and burn it.

Burn them all.

“Kyle, stop.” Sam’s voice only added fuel to his fire.

Kyle turned, stormed back a few steps, and got right in Sam’s face. “I need to go for a walk. Either you come with me or stay here.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, spun on his heels, and headed for Lexington.

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Sam growled. “Wait up. I’m coming.”

Kyle wasn’t a complete idiot, so he avoided the hospital’s main entrance on 77th. He wasn’t up to facing fans and photographers. It was insane, but mind-blowing that they had such dedicated followers. The truly dedicated fans called themselves “the Ringers”; they followed along the boxing-themed lines of Everhide’s own name. Gemma had come up with their band’s name when she saw the speed-boxing bag hanging in Kyle’s dad’s garage during one of their first jam sessions.

Flicking his jacket collar up, Kyle quickened his pace and headed along 76th, north along Third, and then slipped east onto 78th.

Local shops, salons, and laundry services lay at street level beneath dominating apartment blocks. Expensive brownstones nestled in between the commercial chaos. He didn’t know this part of the city well, but he needed to absorb New York back into his veins after being away on tour for so long. He needed her energy, her vibrancy, and her strength.

That was what he needed.

Strength.

Strength to lock away his feelings for Gemma. He had to dig deep, pour his heartache into his lyrics and move on.

The wet sidewalk muffled his footsteps. Keeping his eyes down, Kyle ignored the world around him, and only glanced up occasionally in desperate search for a bar. There had to be one around here somewhere.

Out of nowhere, Sam’s arm flung around his shoulders, knocked the breath from Kyle’s lungs, pushed him sideways through an open restaurant door and slammed it shut.

“Sam, what the hell?” Kyle shrugged out of Sam’s hold and shook the rain off his jacket.

“What’s with you today?” Sam scowled. “We’ve had a growing crowd tailing us. There’s too many of them to keep you safe.”

Kyle ripped his hand through his wet hair and paced back and forth across the black-and-white checked floor. “Sorry, man. I just wanted to go for a walk.”

Sam switched the sign on the glass to “closed,” and pulled the curtains across the front window before the waiter standing at the front counter could object. He then turned and pushed Kyle forward and spoke to the bewildered young waiter whose eyes bulged as big and white as the dinner plates piled up on the counter behind him.

“There’s a riot heading this way. I did that for your own safety.” Sam’s monotone voice suggested he did this kind of thing on a daily basis. “You got some other way out of here? All I need you to do is pretend you’re closed for half an hour. We’ll compensate you for the inconvenience.”

The young Asian man’s face paled with horror. He nodded and pointed over his shoulder to the kitchen. “You can leave that way. But are my eyes deceiving me? You’re Kyle McIntyre? From Everhide? Wow. I was at your concert last night. You guys are sick.”

“Thanks, man. I hope you enjoyed the show.” Kyle forced a smile, digging deep to find his professional conduct. He would have to deal with his hurt later, once he was out of this mess. “I’m sorry about the intrusion.” He hated causing problems, but then, he looked around the vacant café and realized they weren’t interrupting any patrons.

The young man wiped his hands on his apron. “I can’t believe you’re in my family’s restaurant. This is unbelievable. None of my friends at school will believe that you were here when I tell them.”

Sam nudged Kyle on the shoulder, pushed him toward a booth at the back of the yellow wallpapered restaurant, and took out his cell phone. “Sit, while I sort out a car to come and get us.”

Kyle flopped down onto the maroon-colored seat and turned back to the young worker who had followed. “What’s your name?”

“Leon.”

“What kind of food do you do here, Leon?”

The guy’s mouth moved this way and that before he managed to form any words. “Um . . . Vietnamese. My mom and dad make the best Vietnamese rolls ever.”

“Great.” Kyle’s belly rumbled at the thought and smell of food. He’d forgotten all about the wraps he’d left untouched on Gemma’s tray table back at the hospital. “I’ll have a serving of chicken rolls and bring some beef noodles for Sam. Better make them takeaway, please.”

Leon nodded and scuttled out to the kitchen with their order.

“You got any liquor?” Kyle called to Leon.

Leon appeared and pointed to the small collection of bottles in a cabinet behind Kyle at the rear of the restaurant.

“Excellent. I’ll have the bottle of JD and a glass of ice.”

Leon rushed around faster than the Flash and placed them on the table before him. With only a quarter of the contents left in the bottle, it would barely be a start to helping drown Kyle’s pain.

“Thanks, man.” Kyle picked up the bottle and poured.

Easing into the booth seat opposite Kyle, Sam sat down. The air squished loudly from the cushion when his backside settled. Sam waved at Leon, who lingered in the kitchen doorway. “Leon, do you have any tea? I’d love a cup of really strong, hot black tea, please.”

The boy nodded and set off toward the kitchen in a hurry.

Kyle downed his first glass of JD and didn’t hesitate before pouring a second.

Sam crossed his arms, his broad shoulders nearly taking up the entire width of the booth. “So, you gonna tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to guess?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kyle stared at the amber liquid and swirled it around in the bottom of his glass.

“Kyle, I’ve been your bodyguard for five years. I know something’s happened. My guess is it has something to do with Gemma.”

Kyle’s gut knotted at the mention of her name. “She’s fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t sound like it. We’ve got half an hour until the car gets here, so start talking.”

“About what?”

“You flinched when I mentioned her name. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Sam leaned forward, and his eyes narrowed to slits. “I may be a quiet man, but I’m very observant. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I’m not stupid. You may have everyone else fooled, but not me.”

Sam didn’t break eye contact with Kyle, even when Leon placed a steaming cup of tea down in front of him.

“Tea. Hot. Strong and black. Your food will be ready in about five minutes,” Leon said.

“Thanks.” Kyle waved his drink in Leon’s direction. Leon bowed excessively, scuttled off back behind the counter, sat on a stool, and jumped onto his cell phone. Social media, no doubt.

Sam tapped his finger on the tabletop. “We could sit here all day circling around the truth. Stop with all the bullshit and tell me what happened.”

The cool JD slid down Kyle’s throat and burned deep within his chest. He licked his lips and swallowed down a gullet full of pain. “Hunter happened. He supposedly feels the same way about her as I do and asked her out . . . and she said yes.”

Sam frowned, confusion on his face. “Hunter? Asked Gemma out? Damn. I thought I had him nailed down to liking someone else.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

Hunter wanting to commit to one person had Kyle baffled. Hunter loved to play the field. He loved the girls, and the endless supply of sex. Kyle’s head spun, unable to comprehend this sudden change of heart.

“What are you going to do about it?” Sam asked. “Did you tell her how you felt? Are you going to fight for her?”

“What?” Exasperation bubbled through Kyle’s veins. “No. I can’t do that. And what’s the point?” He clenched the glass tightly in his hands, so tight he thought it might shatter. “She looked happy; I couldn’t say anything. If Hunter is the one, so be it. I’d sooner see her with him than some loser from God knows where. She’s all that matters.”

“So, you’re just going to sit back and let some other man take your woman?”

“She’s not my woman. It’s not some other man. They’re my best friends. He and Gemma are the closest thing I’ve got to family. I can’t jeopardize that.”

“I know, man. I know. It’s been tough on you since you lost your folks, but you deserve happiness as well.”

“Well, it’s obviously not meant to be with Gemma.”

Saying it aloud forced a vise to tighten around his chest. “I’ll be fine after a few more drinks.” He held up the now empty bottle and waved it toward Leon. “You got another one of these?

Leon jumped off his stool, so fast he knocked it over. He raced out to the kitchen and returned with a fresh bottle for Kyle. He’d barely placed it on the table before Kyle grabbed it, cracked the top open and poured himself a drink. “Your food’s ready, too. I’ll go and grab it for you.” He zipped off again and returned with their meals.

Sam glanced at his watch. “We’ve got time. I’m gonna eat.” Sam took out and opened his box of noodles from the plastic takeaway bag and inhaled the fragrant food. “Damn, this smells good.”

Kyle’s belly gurgled in anticipation. He hadn’t had anything decent since the concert last night.

“Enjoy.” Leon bowed and backed away, returning to sit on his stool behind the counter.

Kyle’s mouth watered. He grabbed his rolls out and took a bite. Savoring the first mouthful, he mumbled, “These are delicious.”

“Noodles are fantastic as well.” Sam slurped his appreciation.

Kyle reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone to take a photo of the rolls. “Hey Leon, what’s the name of this joint?”

“SpiceItUp Rolls. Why?”

“Are you able to feed a crowd of crazy people when we get out of here?”

“Um, yes sir. Why?”

“If I post this on Snapchat and Instagram, this place will go nuts.”

Leon’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’d do that?”

Kyle pointed at his rolls. “These are fantastic, and the people of New York need to know about this place.”

“Oh wow, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Kyle pointed to the cell phone trembling in Leon’s hands. “Would you like a photo to prove to those friends of yours that I was here?”

Stunned, Leon barely managed a nod.

Sam chuckled, wiped his mouth on a napkin, and offered to take the photo of Kyle with Leon. “Kyle, I think it’s about time I got a pay rise and included ‘photographer’ as part of my job description.”

Kyle stood, placed his arms around Leon’s shoulders, and smirked at Sam. “You get paid shit loads. Stop complaining.”

“Not complaining. Just pointing out the facts.” Sam’s white teeth flashed behind a quick smile before he clicked away on Leon’s phone.

After a few snaps, Sam’s cell phone buzzed. “Car’s here. Time to go. Thanks for your hospitality, Leon. What do we owe you?”

“Oh, no, no. You don’t have to pay. It’s on the house.”

Kyle sighed. While it was great to get free stuff wherever they went, he wanted to ensure they paid when necessary. Especially when it looked like this place could do with their business. Kyle pulled out his credit card. “I insist. Plus, I’m taking the bottle of JD.”

Leon hesitated before running over to the till and processing his payment.

Kyle glanced at the window. Silhouettes of people hovered outside the curtains. Hands blinkered around eyes of those trying to peer in at the edges. The noise and squeals grew louder and knocks tapped on the door.

“Time to go,” said Sam, and he led Kyle out the back to the alleyway and into the waiting car.

“That was the best feed I’ve had in a long time.” Kyle reclined back into the leather seat and stretched his legs.

“Certainly was,” Sam agreed, and the driver took off. “But back to our unfinished discussion, what are you going to do about Gemma? Stop hiding your feelings, or that’s only going to cause more problems. Tell her how you feel. Let her make the decision. If she chooses Hunter, so be it. But what if she chooses you?”

Kyle shook his head and took a long drink straight from the JD bottle. He’d seen the look in Gemma’s eyes, and the way she’d looked at Hunter. There was no need for a competition when he wasn’t even a contender.

“She would have said something if she didn’t want to be with him.”

“If you can stand on the sidelines and watch the woman you love being with someone else without knowing if she has feelings for you, you’re stronger than anyone I know.”

“Guess that’s the ultimate price of loyalty.”

“I personally think you’re a fool. But if you’re going to continue to get drunk over it, do it at home so I don’t have to get your ass out of any more sticky situations.”

“Deal.” The whiskey slid down Kyle’s throat, and his reality sank in.

Hunter was with Gemma. There was nothing he could do about it. He would respect their relationship because Gemma’s happiness was all that mattered. He’d always be there for her, in whatever capacity, even if it was only as her friend.

A few more drinks at home was what he needed to help pull himself together. To find strength to deal with this new situation. Because there was one thing he was sure about—his loyalty to both Hunter and Gemma would never be compromised.