Page 45 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

We continued along the edge of the water. The agent ahead stayed far enough away to give us space without leaving the route uncovered.

“After the band ended, everyone made decisions for me,” I said. “Some of them had good reasons. I wasn’t exactly demonstrating excellent judgment.”

“You told me part of that yesterday.”

“I left out why I stopped hearing the reasons.”

Cassidy waited.

A wave dissolved around my slides.

“The party wasn’t supposed to matter,” I said. “We’d finished a run of shows. Everyone was exhausted, and somebody had rented a house where nobody was supposed to take pictures or report back to the label.”

My throat tightened.

“I’d been drinking. When Vince started going down, I wasn’t sober enough to make my hands work the way I wanted.”

Cassidy stayed beside me.

“I kept saying his name. I tried to get him to look at me. Someone said, ‘He only needs a minute,’ and I started yelling for an ambulance because his breathing was wrong.”

The surf hissed over the sand.

“I knew he was in danger. I also knew I wasn’t sober enough to help him properly. I couldn’t fix anything. I could barely keep track of what people were saying.”

Cassidy’s fingers brushed mine again.

This time, she didn’t move away.

“I told the police who brought the drugs and who shared them,” I said. “I didn’t lie for the band. I didn’t lie for myself. I don’t regret that.”

“But you regret the rest.”

“I regret being impaired when Vince needed someone clearheaded. I regret that he almost died. I regret that the band collapsed and everyone lost years, even though I know telling the truth wasn’t what put him on that floor.”

My voice roughened.

“Some fans decided I betrayed them. Sometimes I think Jesse and Mick probably did too, even if they never said it that way. Then every manager and label representative spent two years treating me like one more bad decision would destroy whatever was left.”

Cassidy stopped walking.

I turned toward her.

She took my hand and held it between both of hers.

“You were responsible for getting impaired,” she said. “You can regret that.”

I nodded once.

“You didn’t give Vince the drugs, and you didn’t make the label drop the band. Once you understood he was in danger, you pushed for help. When the police asked what happened, you told them.”

“I still couldn’t do enough.”

“You couldn’t undo the night after it started.”

“That doesn’t make it feel better.”

“I’m not trying to make it feel better.”