“Yes, they did,” I stated, my voice full of pride for Our Boys.

“Don’t say anything to anyone, but…this is the last tour I’m doing with them. I’m out. My contract ends at the end of August.”

“I won’t. It’s not my business to say anything—wait. Can I at least tell my two best friends?”

“Those girls you were sitting with at the House of Blues?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He thought for a few beats before he nodded, too. “I guess they could be trusted, if you trust them.”

“What makes you say that?”

Shrugging, he replied, “I’ve become a decent judge of character over the years, Doc. I’ve had to. Phil would never just hand his heart over to anyone, and he handed that to you a long time ago. I wish I had understood that then.”

“What was the whole point of that situation?”

“Jürgen wanted to try out the new girl, and he always made us have them first. That way, he knew what he could get away with. He was considering Camryn for some stage work. If you’ve seen our old shows, you know what I’m talking about.”

I did. It was a lot like Alice Cooper, only more morbid. Cornered Cannibal would stage misogynistic beatdowns and murders, acts to incite the audience. Only after a girl had been gang-raped and beaten into a coma at one of their shows had they stopped those sort of stunts.

At least, they had on stage.

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like with those guys. I don’t want you to. It’s not right—what I used to be a part of. Back then, I was young and stupid and coked up more often than not.”

“You believe the drug use had something to do with your behavior?”

“I know it was a big part of it. I felt like a god on that shit—invincible, sexy, ready to take on the world. It turned me into something a lot more like Jürgen, and it took meeting Phil for me to realize that. There’s a decency in Phil that not many people in this industry have. Even when we were…he couldn’t bring himself to truly degrade or hurt those women even though that was what we were paying them for.”

Devon turned inward, carefully thinking about what he wanted to say next. I took the time to take a few hits off the joint.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, “I drew the lot that night to break in the new girl, and Jürgen wanted her to fucking perform for it. He told her what he was looking for and that he’d hire her for the stage job if she could convince Phil. He knew Phil and I liked to find girls together. I had no idea how much he hated Phil back then.

“So, yeah, the girl was Camryn. She had red hair back then, wore a lot of makeup. She’s really good at changing up her appearance. She switches looks with Jürgen’s moods. He appreciates that sort of thing.”

“So, Phil had no idea what was happening—”

“Fake blood, and she was so good. She stored Chiclets—you know, the gum?—in her cheeks. Brilliant performance really. Even I was impressed. I got into it, you know? So much so, I dragged you into it, thinking I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“Why would you think that would kill it for him?”

“I had no idea. I was thinking stupid shit. I thought if he could just get you out of his system, then maybe he’d be happier. He was never truly happy, Kenna. I cared enough about him to want to change that. I just went about it all wrong.

“In the end, Jürgen was delighted, Camryn was hired, and Phil was out of the picture. Maybe Jürgen had hoped for that all along, but I think he really wanted to take Phil so far over the edge that he’d self-destruct. So, perhaps it was a good thing our friendship blew up when it had.”

Passing the spliff over, I couldn’t really understand the bit of fucked up that was Jürgen Wilhelmsen.

So what if something bigger and better came along?

The music differences between the two bands were such that it really shouldn’t matter. Some die-hard Cornered Cannibal fans out there thought NOLA’s Junk was shit. The guys didn’t care about that. They weren’t in a competition.

“What’s on your mind?” Devon asked.

“How did Phil not realize it was Camryn?”

He shrugged. “Like I said, she’s a chameleon. What’s this shit about me raping and beating her?”

“In Finland. You all were staying in the same hotel—”

“We had a few shows together there, yeah.”

“And Phil had been seeing her since the tour took them to Great Britain, I think.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. NOLA’s opened for us then in London. Mostly club circuits.”

“Well, he told me that, in Finland, she wound up going back to your room with you, that you had told her there was a party or something going on, that he was there already. She went with you and discovered no party, but you beat her up and raped her. She ended up banging on Phil and X’s door, claiming all of this, and delivered the message that she was his debt paid for taking away your toy the last time.”

Devon looked ill. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

“That’s why he really refuses to speak to you. He told me that, after everything, he never realized that you were capable of something like that.”

“I get it now. I know who’s behind that fucking stunt, too. Jürgen knew I wanted to tell Phil that it wasn’t real, that I wanted my friend back. And he knew I was clean and growing a pair big enough to leave the band.”

“Why haven’t you before now?”

“Because…Jürgen’s very persuasive.”

“He doesn’t know you plan on leaving?”

Devon shook his head. “I’ve given him the impression that it might all work out if I can have my own bus and stay away from the rest of the shit.”

“I understand. I can hold off on telling my friends.”

He smiled, and right then, I sort of wished I could feel something more than friendship for him. It’d serve Phil right, going out with his disgustingly beautiful ex for lunch, leaving his phone in Devon’s bus. He had been in there with her, just the two of them…

No, I don’t think I’m ready to forgive him for this. This hurts more than I’d like to admit, even to myself.

“So…what’s the deal with Brigid?” I asked, an acidic taste forming in my mouth from just mentioning her name.

“Have you seen her? She’s here to look pretty for me. I got to have something to do. Having a wank in a sock gets old after a while.”

“Ugh!” I laughed. “I could have gone the rest of my life…shit, I’ll never look at a sock the same way again.”

“Glad to have been the man who ruined them for you.”

Just then, I was struck with an epiphany. “My fucking brother…I wondered why his socks were so dried up and crusty when we did laundry. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Devon started to lose it with belly-rumbling deep laughter.

“I’m guessing you didn’t know Brigid was Phil’s ex?”

Still laughing, Devon shook his head. “No clue.” Wiping a stray tear from his eye, he sobered up a little. “She told me afterward that they went together years ago. Just my fucking luck, too. He and I always had the same taste in women. Apparently, it didn’t end too nicely for her.”

“No, that’s my understanding.”

“My guess is, it was because of you.”

“That’s what I was told,” I replied, sounding as though perhaps I no longer believed it.

“Hey, if there’s anything I do know about Phil, it’s that you are everything he has ever wanted from this life. So what if he went to lunch with Brigid? It doesn’t mean anything. He used to tell me that you were it for him and that, once he found you again, he was going to grab ahold of you and never let go.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“Amsterdam. A couple of years ago. We like to hook up now and then. Nothing serious. She likes a free ride, and I like kinky sex. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope.”

He wagged a finger at me. “Ah…I see that secret little smile you got. You like the kinky, too. Being with Phil, I guess you’d have to.”