Kat

"Ashlynn," I repeat and then, all I can think to say is, "What?"

"I called her, when I was in Riley's room."

"You called her, and she answered?" Ashlynn never answers my phone calls. Granted, I stopped calling awhile ago.

He nods. "She doesn't always, but yeah. She answered this time."

"So that's why you went down to Riley's? To get your old phone, so you could call her?"

"Not exactly." His eyes meet mine, and I see it in his eyes. Something small inside me snaps.

"You didn't need your old phone. She's in your new phone?"

"Yeah."

Wow. Fucking wow. I did not expect that. I already figured out he'd been helping her, but I assumed he let Riley handle it. He said only ten people have that number. And Ashlynn is one of them.

Before me.

Okay. Deal with that later. Obviously there's a bigger issue here.

"Why has she got you frantic?" I ask.

He won't meet my eyes.

"Trace."

He rubs a hand over his face. "I've been helping her. Now, she doesn't want my help anymore. And without my help, I'm worried she's going to...do things she'll regret. Things she can't...come back from."

I know what he's talking about. The things she was saying are starting to make more sense. "You mean like...sleeping with guys for drugs."

He doesn't say anything, he just looks a place on the floor. "I have Riley researching private investigators right now. In a bunch of cities. I'll find her, Kat. We'll help her."

Suddenly, the alcohol seems like it's kicking in, and I feel dizzy and exhausted. I remember that I'm running on three hours sleep.

"Thank you for what you've done for Ash, Trace."

"I don't know if you're going to thank me when you hear the rest, Sweetheart," he says grimly.

Oh, god. Suddenly I have a terrible feeling, about Trace and Ashlynn. I turn and walk into the second bedroom—not the one we were planning to share. I climb into the bed, not knowing what I feel or what I want to happen next.

After a few minutes, he follows me. He stands at the end of the bed.

"I don't think this is a good place to end our conversation, Kat. Don't people say couples shouldn't go to bed mad?"

"I'm not mad. I just don't want to hear about Ashlynn anymore. I want to sleep," I say.

He climbs in and he spoons me again.

"I think we should talk."

"I don't want to talk."

After about five minutes of just laying together, he slides a hand up my shirt, stroking my ribs, and I firmly remove it.

"You gotta help me out. I can't read your mind, baby. How do you want to work this out? Please, Kat...talk to me."

The dam breaks.

"I don't know. Everything is...all crazy. The tour stuff, the girls, your moods," I ramble, my words coming out in a high rush. "One minute you seem like the guy I know, and then every time you walk out the door you come back in a different mood. And now Ashlynn? And she's in your inner circle phone? What the fuck, Trace? What's going on? I'm freaked. No, I'm really pissed ...I don't know what I am."

"You're both, and you have every right to be," he sighs.

"Just tell me." My voice is rough, nearly gravelly with fear. "You and Ashlynn. Are you...have you...been together?"

"Turn over," he commands, and flips me so that we are staring at one another. My heart stops, like it's preparing to be broken.

"I have never slept with Ashlynn," he says with perfect enunciation as he meets my eyes. "I swear to fuck, Kat. It's not like that, never been like that, never even thought about it being like that."

My heart hammers, making up for the skipped beat. I close my eyes. I can't look at Trace anymore. His stare is too intense, like he's boring into my soul, willing me to believe him. And I do. I believe him.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay. I knew that. I knew you wouldn't. I'm sorry I asked you that."

"It's okay. It's a fair question, given what I just told you," he kisses my forehead. "I'm so glad you believe me. Look at me, Sweetheart."

I open my eyes.

"Before I tell you about Ashlynn, there's something else. What I said in Leed's room...that I love you...I didn't mean to say it like that," he says. "But I'm kind of drunk and I've been thinking it so much in my head, it just slipped out."

Trace is thinking in his head he loves me? My heart starts to pound, and I do my best to calm it. Of course, he loves me. And of course I love him. We grew up together. How could we not? It's complicated, the love we feel. It doesn't mean he's in love with me, does it? Or that I am in love with him? I dunno. But if he's going to say he loves me, I just don't want him to mean it like I'm an old sweatshirt he loves. But I don't tell him that. I can't. It's too soon for me to be that honest, I guess. All I can manage to say is, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirms. "But the way I said it, I really fucked that up. So if I don't say it again for awhile, just know, it's not because I don't. It's because I want it to grow, so the next time I say it, there won't be any doubt in your mind, how I mean it."

Oh wow. How does he do that? Read my mind, and know just the thing to say that squeezes my heart. I can't say anything back, I just nod.

"Ok, so here's the thing I'm struggling with—the thing that's making me all over the place. I haven't been totally honest with you about Ashlynn. I've had a lot more...contact with her than three shows."

"She kind of told me that this morning."

"I want you to hear it from me. She came to me in LA when she ran away from home and I tried to help her, you know, with a place to stay and stuff. She said her parents were going to have her committed to a mental health care facility for a year. I didn't think they could do that, because Ashlynn was an adult, but I checked with my lawywers and they checked into things, and your parents could do that, if they got what's called a conservatorship over Ashlynn. If a judge thought that Ashlynn wasn't competent to take care of herself because of her injury."

"They would never do that, Trace. They love Ashlynn. They wouldn't just send her to an institution. They want to help her, just like I do."

Trace bites his lip. "That's what I thought at first. I put her on a plane and sent her home to Atlanta twice."

"Yeah, I know. She came home and started partying again both times." I say.

"She didn't tell you everything," he sounds weary. "The third time, she came to LA, she had pictures on her phone of court papers her parents had filed. I don't know if they would have gone through with sending her somewhere against her will, but they were definitely seeking the conservatorship. There was a court date. My lawyers checked into it. They thought, in a state like GA, conservative, you know—a judge might grant it." He studies me. "You didn't know about that, did you?"

"No," I say. I don't exactly know how to feel about that. I can't say it surprises me. Growing up, my parents were kind of hands-off, because Ashlynn was such a perfect daughter, and I always had good grades and didn't make any kinds of waves at school. Probably because Trace and I were sneaking around the neighborhood raising hell. After that New Year's when my parents were confronted at the hospital with Ashlynn's brain trauma and my complete drunken-and-wearing-Trace's-clothes-and vomit-self, and they heard the story of how it all came about, they realized neither one of their daughter's were exactly what they thought.

They went into control-freak mode. If Trace hadn't left to go on tour three days later, I'm sure my parents would have forbidden me from seeing him anymore. They micromanaged Ashlynn's recovery and rehab and everything freaked them out. It's like they were different people and it's only been in the last six months that I've had much freedom at all, but I was a minor and Ashlynn was an adult. I guess I could see them wanting to take control of Ashlynn, legally, because they can't seem to control her health and her addiction.

"It doesn't surprise me, about the conservatorship. Or that Ashlynn wouldn't want that. I wouldn't want that. You wouldn't want that. Who would?"

"Right," Trace breathes a sigh of relief, because apparently he was scared I would see it differently. "So, I didn't send her home after that."

"But you didn't just put her up in a hotel." I say slowly.

His eyes go wide. "No. And I let her more than just hang around."

I touch his face. His stubble has two days length and he looks very, very sexy. "I know you. And I know her. And I knew she was lying to me, this morning. She said when she ran away the third time, she hooked up with a guy with money. She said she came to your concerts because she was looking for someone new and wanting to hook up with Leed. None of that was true, was it? She came to the shows because of you. You're the guy with money she's been living off of."

"Yeah."

"She's been..." I try to wrap my brain around it... "living with you?"

He bites his lip. "Not at first. And not the whole time. I sent her to some short term rehab programs, trying to find a place she liked. She kept leaving them and using again. I would talk her into trying another place, but she always went willingly, and I always let her come back if she didn't like it. Finally, she clicked with a place in Denver and completed the program. She was clean for about four months after that. We lived in my house together on a daily basis during that time. Then it all went to shit again and she's been on her own since then, but on my dime."

I sigh. I try to not feel jealous. It's not exactly like they've been playing house for two years. It sounds like it was an inconsistent, tumultuous--maybe even terrible-- situation. Not exactly a fun roommate time. I put away my own feelings and think about it from Trace's perspective. "That's a lot for you to deal with. It couldn't have been easy."

Trace's dark brows furrow in slightly drunken confusion. "You're not angry that I didn't tell you and your parents where she was?"

"What would she have done if you had?" I ask.

"Run away again. From me. Like she finally did anyway."

I search my feelings and try to find the way I feel. "I don't think I'm mad," I say slowly. "I'm a little...I dunno...something. I...I feel a little bit replaced, to think Ashlynn has been to your house, knows you, your lifestyle, better than I do. But honestly...I'm grateful. To you. That you helped her. I don't know why Ashlynn would come to you, considering how she's always felt about you, but I'm so glad you have been able to be there for her, when she wouldn't let anyone else."

Trace leans his head on my shoulder. He's shaking.

"Are you gonna be sick?" I ask in alarm.

"No, no...fuck...Kat I'm so relieved you don't hate me, for keeping this secret. I can't tell you, how conflicted, I've been. Not just the last few days, but...the whole time, baby. Trying to help Ash, and thinking about you back home...and your parents...I think they're wrong for how they went about things, but I know they love Ashlynn. I didn't like keeping this secret from any of you. It's been...messed up."

I pat him, feeling a little disconnected. Suddenly, it feels like this all about Trace and Ashlynn. What about how I feel? Did he miss the part where I said I feel left out? I mentally tsk myself. I'm being childish. This is about Ashlynn and her problems, and Trace has been the one dealing with them for two years, not my parents or me. And that's an awful lot of drama and grown-up shit for a twenty-something rock star to take on.

It doesn't surprise me, though. Trace is an amazing, caring, person. Most people don't see it. I always got that treatment. I can't let myself be jealous that he's extended it to Ashlynn. God knows, she needed it.

"Trace, you've done an amazing thing, helping Ashlynn."

"But that's the thing, Kat— I didn't help her. There's more I have to tell you. I really fucked up with her. She's worse than ever, because I made some stupid mistakes."

I sigh. "I'm sure there's so much more. But I don't want to hear about it tonight."

Trace bites his bottom lip likes he's in pain. "And I don't want to tell it, but you really need to know—"

"No!" I say, the jealousy boiling over. "I've spent the last two and half years of my life thinking about Ashlynn so much I've turned into Ashlynn. And now we're here in bed together, and it's still all about Ashlynn. You got drunk because you felt so guilty about her, right?"

"Yeah."

I punch him in the shoulder. "Just stop feeling stuff about Ashlynn right now, okay?" I tap his other shoulder and his forehead and chest, like some kind of ritual. "You are hereby absolved of any Ashlynn guilt. I'm done feeling guilty, and so are you. I couldn't get her to stay, this morning. I'm her sister, and I begged her to stay. It was awful, Trace. I literally begged, and she just walked out the door, high as a kite. What can you do , if she won't let me help her? You're gonna track her down with private investigators, then what? She's twenty-three years old. We can't make her come home."

My absolution doesn't work. He keeps confessing.

"I've been giving her money," his voice is very, very low. "And she uses it to score. I'm responsible for the way things are now. I can't just...forget about her. I have to do something."

I'm surprised by this. "Why would you do that? Give her drug money?"

"I didn't at first, when she left. She had credit cards I let her use. I tried to make her come back to LA by cutting her off. I didn't hear from her for weeks. I was crazy worried. Then she showed up—not at the house, but at a show. She had bruises. She wouldn't tell me what happened, exactly, but somebody hurt her. I reactivated her cards. The next time I saw her, she looked worse. We argued. She asked for cash. I refused. Then one night Riley got a call from my credit card company, asking about charges being applied for a hospital bill. Some guy she'd been partying with had put her in emergency room and she didn't even call me. That's when I started giving her cash, so she can be choosier about the people she was hanging with."

I understand now. That's Trace's trigger—people hurting people he cares about. It makes me feel sick how Ashlynn is living, how she's hurting herself. I know she needs help, but I don't know how to give it.

I run my hand up his arms. "Okay, so you'll find her and we'll both try again to help her. We'll make her see she's hurting herself. But until we find her, I don't want us to be all about Ashlynn. Can we just...not focus on her right now, while we are in bed together?"

Trace nods. "Believe me, I totally get that. I don't want that either but I have to tell you the rest—"

"No, Trace, you don't." I'm not angry, but I'm totally over this conversation. Since Trace and I have been together, it's been nothing but Colin and Ashlynn and press problems. I just want him, and I just want him to want me. I just want us, not all the outside drama. "Look, I don't want to hear anymore about Ashlynn right now. I'm serious.I swear, I'm beginning to think you only sent me those tickets because of Ashlynn—"

He cuts me off with a rough kiss.

Oooohhh, man Trace almost told Kat everything! Kat really can't take anymore Ashlynn drama right now, and Trace knows it. Time for a different kind of action! What do you think will happen next?

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