What Happens on the Cruise

50. The Best That I Could Do

They were on their way from Green Bay to Brookings, South Dakota, two concerts under their belt since Austin's ordeal, when Buegs called Rob. "You won't believe what's on the news."

"What's that?" Rob asked.

"There's been a fatal police shooting involving a man who is believed to have kidnapped a woman from a local bar."

"You're kidding?"

"I'm looking right now to see if there's an online news article I can send you... Here's one. 'Police had been sent to the home to detain Everett for questioning in another case when reports came in of a woman gone missing from a nearby bar.' This has to be the guy, right?"

"Send me the link. I'll show it to Austin."

***

Austin stared at the picture of the blond man. He looked like a perfectly normal and unremarkable man, but Austin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he looked at him. "It's him."

"You sure?" Tim asked.

"I remember him from the bar."

There was a flash. Damnit, you're not supposed to be awake yet! He'd reached across Austin's naked body and flung open the car door while they were still in motion. As he'd pushed, Austin had grabbed for him, trying to find purchase. You stupid homo whore! he'd screamed, slamming on the brakes and pushing again. Then Austin had hit the freezing pavement, hands and knees turning to fire as they scraped along the rough surface, a button bouncing away from him.

"And when he dumped me. I remember that, too."

"Nothing else?" Chris asked.

Austin shook his head. "I don't think I want to remember."

"You don't need to," Rob said. "You're never going to have to testify in court."

Austin nodded, relieved. He knew how defense attorneys tore through victims' lives in rape cases. Past sexual conduct, how she'd dressed, how she'd acted, if she'd been drinking or out alone at night. It had been a terrifying prospect when he'd agreed to file the report, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to live with himself otherwise.

"My one regret is now that he's dead I'll never know what all he did to me."

***

"We recovered your clothes and your wallet," Detective Dupree told him on the phone.

"You can burn the clothes. I don't want them, except for the belt and the boots. I won The Sing-Off in those boots. And I'd like my wallet back." He'd already reported his credit cards stolen, but hadn't replaced his driver's license.

"How about we donate the clothes instead?"

"I'm good with that."

"You're on tour right now, right? Should I send the boots, belt, and wallet someplace other than your home address?"

"I'll need my ID to fly home, so yes. Um... Hold on. Rob, what's your address?"

***

"Hey, man," Austin said quietly, sitting down next to Adam. "Do you happen to have any, um, condoms we could borrow?"

"In my overnight bag. But I don't want them back."

"What?"

"Take them, don't borrow them."

Austin chuckled. "Well, I meant that we could replace afterwards when we can get to a store."

"Don't worry about it." Adam considered his bandmate for a moment. "You're concerned he might have done something they didn't detect?"