Conflicted Read Free

Papa Potter,” I chided, playing it down. “You’re right. I’ve probably seen more than you, but not your wife’s, or Aubrey’s. I mean, fuck man, that’s just gross.”
    “Hey now, I highly doubt you’ve seen more. I’m front and almost center at every show; I’m sure I’ve seen more. Besides, I clearly remember you trying to get in Piper’s pants, so it can’t be that bad.” He smirked. “I’m glad you’re here though. I need a favor.”
    “As long as it doesn’t involve your wife’s tits again, fine,” I grumbled.
    “Joss is flying in today. She should be here in a couple hours actually. Any chance you can go pick her up from the airport for me? I don’t want to leave Pipe if I don’t have to.”
    “I can do that,” I said, shoving the gift bags at him, glad for the chance to escape without looking like an asshole.
    “Thanks, dude.” He slapped my shoulder. “Hey, everything okay with you?”
    Was I that obvious?
    “Yeah, man. Everything’s good, just got some stuff going on in my head. Thinking about Kyle and shit.” I knew my face gave me away.
    Blake looked at me with a sad expression. I could see he was struggling not to pry. “All right, well I’m here for you, and so is Jake. If you need anything, make sure you let us know.”
    I nodded and left for the airport to go get Joss.
    Damn, I hadn’t seen her in a couple years. Joss was always a sweet girl and a loyal friend. I felt guilty for not keeping in contact with her more, but Blake wouldn’t be happy about it since she was his baby sister. I needed to keep my distance. He didn’t even like her coming to shows; he was so protective of her. I never went back to Arizona unless I absolutely had to. The only things I had left in Arizona were pain and my bastard of a father. I could live without both.
    Rolling down the windows of my 1969 Pontiac GTO, I cranked the stereo, listening to the new Trapt CD. I loved my car. When we moved to Ohio, some guy had it sitting in his yard with a “for sale” sign on it. I bought it and had it fully restored with jet-black paint, black leather seats, a premium stereo, and an engine that roared like a motherfucker.
    I signaled onto the highway, stepped on the gas, and started the forty-five minute ride to the airport.
    After circling the parking lot six times, I finally found a suitable spot and prayed to all that was holy that I wouldn’t have a dent by the time I came back out.
    I wondered if I would recognize Joss when she came to baggage claim. Walking through the automatic door, I found an empty seat and pulled out my phone. There was another text from the unwanted number. I debated texting back, but decided it was best to erase it since nothing good could come out of it. They were becoming more frequent recently. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the situation yet. It made me question everything that I’ve known my whole life.
    After hitting delete, I opted to play Bingo instead. At least it would keep my mind busy while waiting. A couple passersby looked my way, most likely wondering if I was whom they thought I was. It was much easier to be inconspicuous here than in LA, where it was next to impossible. The paparazzi didn’t care who you were; if you were even remotely famous, they wanted to know your every move, just waiting until you did something newsworthy so they could sell it to the highest bidder.
    Tuning everything out, I did my best to blend in hoping Joss’ flight would be on time.
    I was too busy playing on my phone that I didn’t notice her standing there until she kicked my boot with her foot.
    I looked up at her face.
    “Derek Scott, what the hell?” She laughed.
    Fucking-A, she got hot! Really hot!
    Wearing a form fitting red and white polka dot dress that ended way above the knee, and a brown belt wrapped around her slim waist that sat on her soft curves, she smiled at me. It was a genuine Joss smile. One that I wasn’t sure I would be greeted.
    “Hey, Joss. Sorry,