Christmas with a Rockstar (Rock Revenge Trilogy 3.50)

“He’s been dreading this.” It’s the first words Rag has said, other than “Alton’s here…get in.”

“He knew he was coming?” I only have bits and pieces of the story, things I found on Google and assumptions I drew from Jesse’s lyrics. But I was pretty sure that Jesse and his dad never talked. There was also that little bit about him trying to kill his father. I Googled that the second I got home the night he said it. Even though I couldn’t find an article about it, I still have a strange feeling Jesse wasn’t bluffing.

“He called last week. Said he wanted to see him—repenting and shit…you know, in the spirit of the holidays.”

Last week…probably in the morning. The morning I was hiding so poorly behind his fence and overheard him cry.

I nod slowly, wishing I knew more about their relationship.

It starts to rain, and Rag and I both roll up our windows, sad that we can’t hear what’s going on in the house now, not that there was anything to hear.

“Where are his brother and sister?” I ask.

“Probably upstairs pretending to be asleep. They don’t really know who Alton is or why a man is visiting. He and his mom keep it very separate from them. They’ve got enough to deal with now that their dad is remarried.”

“His sister has to know a little.” I twist my lips with doubt and look at Rag.

He shrugs.

“Probably, but she goes on pretending she doesn’t,” he says.

I look back at the quiet house, such a quaint portrait it makes with the rain pattering around it and the porchlight welcoming guests. It looks like any other home, maybe even more homey than most of the others around here now that the grass and weeds have been cut down. Christmas lights blink in sections along the roof, a few of the strands dead and needing to be replaced. Jesse just wanted them up. I don’t know that he’s really come out to look at them once. His brother and sister do, though—every night for the last week.

“I wonder what they’re saying in there?” I sigh, but I’m unable to lose the tension gripping at my neck and shoulders.

“I don’t know, but I guarantee you that Jesse’s not going to feel like playing much tonight. And I bet he’s also going to get high the second that fancy king-cab truck with new temporary plates pulls out of the driveway.”

Rag pulls a pack of gum from his center console and offers me a piece. I take one, figuring chewing is better than gnashing. He takes one, too, and starts to pop and snap the gum nervously against the roof of his mouth.

“Jesse…gets high a lot?” I push the gum against the back of my teeth, nervous about the answer. I don’t want him to be high all the time, but I also oddly don’t care if he is. I’m still so very interested in him.

“It goes in waves. It’s a stress thing, really. Self-medicating, ya know.” He winks at me, and I give him a fake smile in return. Self-medicating isn’t something I do or have ever done. Real medication, however, is well practiced in the Wakefield house.

“He said something weird to me the other night,” I spill out. I’ve been dying to ask, and it feels like just as good of a time as any.

“Yeah?” Rag’s tone is curious.

“He said he tried to kill Alton once. He was probably just being figurative, or whatever, but…”

“Oh no, he had him dead to rights,” Rag cuts in.

I swallow, not expecting the truth to come so easily.

“How?”

Rag blows out a heavy breath and wraps his right hand around the steering wheel, stretching his arm until it’s straight and stiff as he pushes into his seat. He sucks in his top lip for a few seconds and pulls in his brow.

“He was young…the age I’m not so sure on, but young,” he begins. I hug myself, checking my nerves. They’re on high alert. “It was a surprise visit, kinda like this one, on Christmas of all days. Alton was on a major bender. He only came around when he wanted money, which is so jacked because at one point, he was literally drowning in dough, ya know?”

He looks at me with a lifted brow. I nod. I’d heard he lost everything, but the new truck in the driveway looks like he’s maybe gotten back on his feet.

“Alton showed up, and Jesse’s mom was married to her ex. That guy’s a douchebag too, but that’s another story. Anyhow, she was pregnant with AmberLynn, and Alton wasn’t expecting to look her up and come rolling in to find some starter family decorating a damn tree, so he tried to take Jesse back.”

“Take him back? Back where?” My stomach instantly gets sour imagining him as a small boy being forcefully stolen from his home.

“I don’t know where, I meant take him back like property. He was taking back this kid he refused to admit was his because he didn’t want to give up any of his precious money. It got to the point that they almost went to court to test for paternity until Amanda decided her son was better off not knowing his real dad. Now here he was violently taking what he saw as rightfully his.”

“How violent?” I swallow at the thought.