It knocked Seth and the Brothers Kincaid for a loop. He thought it was over after Luke got out of the hospital. Thought he could forget, put it behind him. But then his mistake came back to bite him—and the band—in the ass all over again.
The story was bullshit. It came out three months too late, got a million facts wrong, but still, it was close. That hazy line between truth and rumor.
Luke went ballistic. With the help of their manager, Bobby, he promptly launched a blistering defense of Seth in the press. Their fans ate it up, and while the Brothers Kincaid took a beating, losing a tour sponsor, getting bumped from a handful of gigs, in the end, Nashville stood behind Seth and the Brothers Kincaid.
But the one who stood by Seth the most was his brother.
Jesus, Luke never even asked Seth if he was using again.
When he saw the article, all he said was, “Are you steady, Seth?” Seth had said yes, and that was it for Luke. That’s how much fucking faith his brother had in him.
It made him feel like shit.
Seth doesn’t deserve his brother’s fierce defense. He’s given Luke a lifetime of worry already.
Luke eyes him unhappily. “Is leavin’ what you want?”
Hell no. Leaving the band is the last thing he wants to do. But maybe it’s time. Time to walk away and work off this restless feeling that’s settled in his soul.
Seth licks his lips and swallows down his guilt. His brother’s staring at him, waiting for an explanation. “I don’t wanna bring you and Jace down, man. That article could have done damage ... we’re lucky it didn’t.”
“I handled it,” Luke growls, his expression fierce. “The Star’s gonna issue a retraction and if they don’t, I’m gonna sue the hell out of those sons of bitches.”
Fuck.
Anxiety balls Seth’s stomach. That’s the last thing he wants Luke doing—taking out some personal vendetta against the Star.
He shakes his head. “You got enough problems to deal with.”
But Luke won’t let it go. “It’s my problem when it involves you. You’re my brother and someone rippin’ you in the press ain’t happenin’.”
Seth swallows, the knot in his stomach growing larger.
Staring out into the dark night, Luke clenches his jaw for a fraction of an instant.
And Seth sees it. Luke’s angry. His easygoing, steadfast brother is pissed as all hell. Overprotective, on the defense when it comes to his family. Which tells Seth all he needs to know. Has him shaking off any courage to tell his brother the truth. If Luke’s this pissed about the story, how will he take the news that Seth almost fucked up again?
Jesus. He can’t face that.
The past.
The memory of Luke sitting by his bedside after Seth overdosed, his eyes lined with tears, saying words that still haunt him. I’ll never forgive you if you do this again. Because I can’t do this again. I won’t.
It’s that fear, Luke’s pain-filled words, that have him in a stranglehold.
Besides, Luke and Sal have enough to worry about. They don’t need him stacking his bullshit to the pile. Sometimes he still feels like that young dumb kid, making idiot decisions, having Sal and Luke sweep his mistakes under the rug, letting down everyone he loves, damn near tanking the band all over again.
Shit, the Nashville Star headline may as well have read: Seth Kincaid, Eternal Fuckup for Life.
“You oughta talk to Jace,” Seth says in a hoarse mumble, hoping their straight-arrow upright bassist, and Luke’s best friend, Jace Taylor, will talk some sense into his brother. “Take a vote.”
“I don’t need to talk to Jace. You ain’t quittin’ and that’s that.” Luke’s voice drops an octave, a sympathetic look crossing his face. “What you did—it was a long time ago, Seth. You got nothin’ to be sorry for now.”
Seth stands there, numb, guilt gripping him.
Luke grins, but all it does is make him feel worse. “If you think I’m makin’ music without you, think again.”
Luke’s tone is final. Fucking loyal as hell.