Nik was there.

In the yard.

As the breeze rustled the leaves around Jenny’s feet, his eyes held hers in that dark gaze of his.

And he’d been holding onto her arms in a way that made her chest squeeze like an orange in the antiquated juicer in her apartment. Even her hands shook.

He’d filled out. Everywhere. In a way that the magazine covers she’d seen of him hadn’t done justice. And it looked good on him. And even though it was futile, she tried to convince herself that she didn’t care. Nothing about her response made sense. She thought she’d moved on, thought she’d gotten over the way he could make her feel with just a look. But she suddenly felt as messed up as she’d been back then.

So much so that she’d almost forgotten that Albi, who was supposed to be in school, was standing there.

Forcing herself to break his stare, she tried to forget the way his fingers had felt. His forearms were more muscular than they’d been—he probably could have held her pinned to the spot had he wanted to—but he’d quickly let go when she’d told him to.

“Albi,” she started, then took a deep breath. Her voice sounded floaty, breathless, unanchored. She tried again. “Albi, what happened?”

“He got into a little trouble and contacted me to help him out,” Nik replied.

Jenny turned to look at him and rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was Nik leading Albi in what to say. The words Albi chose to explain it, the tone he used, and the space around the things he didn’t say would communicate volumes. “Thank you for your perspective, Nik, but I asked Albi.”

The corner of Nik’s mouth turned up in a smile. She looked away from him.

“What Nik said,” Albi replied, and looked toward Nikan. It was hard to miss the way the kid looked up to him. She could see it in his eyes. Somewhere between familial affection and hero worship. It was the first time she’d seen it from the unruly boy. And she knew she wasn’t going to get much more from Albi until Nikan had left.

“Make yourself useful, Albi. The groceries are in the back of the car. Take the bags to the kitchen, then start putting things away while we wait for your social worker to arrive. No point in making you go through all this twice, and there isn’t enough left of school to get over there and deal with this today.”

Albi headed toward the car.

“Hey, Albi,” Nik said. “Don’t you have something to say to Jenny?”

Albi cracked his jaw, looked down at the dirt, and turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Jenny.”

It was the first time since she’d met him that Albi had apologized for anything without a fight, which she considered progress. She’d take that into account when deciding what his punishment would be. Maybe extra chores rather than any loss of the privileges he treasured so much.

She watched as he reached the car. The way he had to step up onto his toes to reach the grocery bags reminded her of how young he still was.

“Where was he?” she asked without turning to look at Nik. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet, with everything feeling so raw and open.

“By the Blue Jays stadium. Some kids were pressuring him to do stupid shit. Look, have dinner with me tonight. I’ll tell you all the details and we can—”

“No,” she said quickly. “Not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny, but seeing you . . . it’s impossible to focus on Albi when there’s so much I want to . . . no, need to say to you.”

Jenny took a deep breath and finally turned to look at him. “There’s no need for us to talk. There’s nothing left for us to say. Ellen warned me that you and the band still supported the home and that you’d all taken it upon yourselves to mentor the boys. I’m not going to stop that. But please, for the sake of keeping things civil between us, let’s not make more of this than there is.”

Albi walked by with three grocery bags. “Am I going to get into trouble once Nik’s gone?” he asked.

“Yes, Albi, you are. You should have been in school, and you know why that’s important. Right?” Jenny moved away from Nikan, grateful for a moment to compose herself, to do something she knew how to do rather than floundering in subtext with Nik. Right now, she needed to focus on the boy in front of her.

“It makes me self-dependent, educated, and confident,” he mumbled. “And a person who is educated, self-dependent, and confident can handle anything life throws at him.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Say it proudly, Albi.”

Albi straightened with the bag in his hand. “It makes me self-dependent, educated, and confident,” he said, louder this time, the words more clearly enunciated. “And a person who is educated, self-dependent, and confident can handle anything life throws at him.”

“Exactly,” she said softly. “So, there has to be some kind of consequence for your actions. You bailed on school to do something inappropriate. We’ll talk about exactly what that was later. But between now and then, it might be useful for you to consider what kind of consequence you would consider appropriate.”

Albi’s shoulders sagged. “Whatever,” he said with a sigh and carried the bags up the steps to the front door.

“Says the woman who used to routinely skip school to hang out with me, riding the subway all day in winter because it was too freaking cold out to be anywhere else,” Nik said, a warm smile on his face.

She didn’t need to be reminded of her own youthful failings—especially as she’d spent most of her adult life playing catch-up. Her mistakes had been a part of her own journey but weren’t something she was completely cool with. “What do you expect me to say, Nik? That I skipped school but turned out okay? It’s our turn to be the adults. I’m grateful that you were there for him today, so thank you for doing that. But telling Albi this kind of behavior is fine doesn’t do him any service.”

“He did the right thing,” Nik began. “Well, not the start of it. You’re right, of course, that he should have been in school. But once he realized he was in over his head, he activated his X-message and asked for help to get out of a situation.” He pulled off his baseball hat and untied his hair. She remembered how it felt between her fingers, how it felt spread across her thighs, thick and cool.

“So, we don’t discipline him?” She looked over her shoulder as she heard Albi’s footsteps behind her. He’d shrugged out of his sweater and jogged across the garden to the car. It was a miracle how kids never felt the cold, but then neither did Nik, whose jacket was slung over his arm.

As much as she wanted to be mad at Nik, she loved the idea behind the message, even if it made her job tricky now. If what Nik said was true, which she could wholeheartedly believe it was, how did she discipline Albi?

“He needs to know I’m going to show up, that I’m going to get him out of trouble and that there won’t be significant repercussions,” Nik said. “Otherwise, next time he is in over his head, he’ll weigh up whether he’ll be in more trouble if he calls me to avoid whatever it is he is being forced into than if he actually does the thing.”

For a moment, she put aside that this was Nik she was talking to. She put aside their history and just listened to what he was telling her. “So what do you think happens if I discipline over this?”

“I think next time he might not call.”

Jenny shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Albi was over by the car, so she spoke quickly. “What was he involved in when you found him?”

“Did you see that video from that Berlin train station that did the rounds of the news media recently where a guy kicked a woman in the back at the top of a flight of stairs in a subway?”

The gasp escaped before she could stop it. “He was about to do that to someone?”

“An older lady was just approaching the top of the steps,” Nik said, “and the rest of the gang of kids Albi was with had their phones out, ready to film whatever it was he was supposed to do. But for what it’s worth, the kid was fucking gray. It was clear he didn’t want to do it. But with a gang of bigger kids around him, I don’t know that he could have walked away.”

Jenny looked down at the small patch of daisies by her feet. They’d be dead soon enough as fall turned to winter. Everything had a season.

“Thank you, Nik,” she said softly as she watched Albi slam the trunk of the car closed. “I’ll take it from here with his social worker when she gets here.”

“You’re welcome,” Nik said, reaching for her hand. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around her wrist gently.

The move had once been her everything. It had been all he’d have to do to persuade her to follow him. Away from school, away from life, away from everyone who called her a weirdo and a freak because of her dissociative episodes.

She needed to compartmentalize the two sides of Nik—the part she’d loved and that had broken her heart, and the side who’d taken the time to go look out for one of the kids in her care.

“Now can we talk about us? Perhaps just get together and catch up on the last few years?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. Nik,” she said. She pulled her hand away and slid it into her jeans pocket. “Outside of the boys, I don’t think we really have anything else to say to each other. Next time you get an X-message, I’d appreciate it if you contact the home immediately and let us know. If this system is working for you and Albi, I’m not going to ruin it, but the least you can do is keep us involved every step of the way.”

“Don’t,” Nik said, stepping closer to her. “Don’t reduce our history to a five-second dismissal when I haven’t seen you in nearly a decade.”

“Don’t? I’m trying to be polite here. You want me to spell it out for you, Nik? I can if you need to hear it. You cheated on me. On your first major tour. You kissed me goodbye and set off in that stupid van. I thought you were coming home to me, but you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants long enough for me to miss you. You broke me into a million pieces I have never been able to put back together properly, and I hate you for that.”

Tears stung the corner of her eyes, but she wasn’t going to shed even one more over the man who had thought so little of her that he could disrespect her that way.

Nik’s face was filled with anguish. “I’ve changed, Jenny. You need to give me a chance to explain.”

“The cover of the magazine I saw at the Superstore this morning says you haven’t, Nik.”

“Wait, Jenny, that isn’t what—”

“Goodbye, Nik,” Jenny said, unable to listen to any more excuses.

She turned on her heel, jogged up the steps to the front door, and loudly slammed it closed behind her.

* * *

Nik stared at the heavy door—a door he’d approached with dread when he was thirteen because it was the seventh such door he’d walked through. The door he remembered Elliott scorching his initials into with a lighter. The door though which they’d carried Adam’s body out. The doorframe they’d all taken to slapping when they returned home from school and even now when they walked inside as adults. Habits, familiarity, something not quite home but the closest he’d ever been.

But never in his life had it been slammed on him in a way that left him standing on the outside. The sound of it slamming and of the door knocker rattling cut through him as surely as if Jenny had just put a knife into his stomach—a feeling he knew and understood all too well.

For a first meeting, it couldn’t really have gone worse. It would have been easier if he’d been prepared rather than stunned to within an inch of his life. And it certainly would have been better if Albi hadn’t been involved. Perhaps it would have been different if they’d met on mutual territory, like in the line at Tim Hortons or on the streetcar. But there was nothing he could to do fix that. All he could do now was focus on making things right and convincing her he’d changed.

He walked back down the path to the gate and toward his car. Why hadn’t Ellen told him? She was the closest thing he had to a mom. And did the rest of the band know? Sure, they probably communicated less about personal things now that they were spread apart a little and some of them had partners. Dred and Pixie had moved into their Baby Point home at the start of the year, with Jordan and Lexi following them just before their European tour in the spring. Lennon had surprised Nik by serving notice on the tenants who rented the penthouse apartment he’d owned and rented out. Lennon had always preferred to be on the edges of the group, which had always worried Nik. But wouldn’t one of them have thought to tell Nik something as important as this?

He jumped back into the car and drove the short distance to Elliott’s house.

Shit. There was still press outside. He lowered the brim of his cap and had never been more thankful to Tom Ford for having sent him a case of aviators. Cameras began to snap as soon as he turned into the drive.

His car still had a sensor for the main gate, which opened automatically as he pulled up to it. But goddamn, had it always opened this slowly? He’d lived here for so long that the house still felt like his, even though Elliott had bought them all out and claimed it as his own. They’d bought it together back when Jordan had been unable to function without them all under one roof. But Lexi had changed all that. Once their getting together had given Jordan the confidence to move out, the rest of them had followed suit.

Now Elliott lived there with Kendalee and her son Daniel, who was still recovering from life-changing burns he’d suffered in a house fire.

Nik pulled up in his usual spot, and killed the engine.

Jenny is back.

He rubbed his hand over his jaw.

The cover of the magazine I saw at the Superstore this morning says you haven’t, Nik.

It was the worst possible timing. And she was right. At face value, the media was right. He was a screwup. But there were some things he’d done right in his life. His band, for instance, and his relationships with the men he thought of as family. Which was why their not telling him that Jenny was back hurt like a bitch.

Suddenly feeling every one of his thirty-one years, he stepped out of the car and let himself into the house.

“Elliott?” he shouted as he pulled his sunglasses off and shoved them into his back pocket. “Kendalee?”

He wandered through the mudroom and heard the muffled sound of a guitar coming from down in the music room. He jogged down the stairs to the large recording studio that the band still used. Goddamn, Elliott could play. Even pissed off, Nik could still acknowledge that Elliott was incredible, his sound grounding the band differently from the way Jordan’s bass did. Nik’s own playing was far more chaotic and lacked the structure of Elliott’s, but they complemented each other extremely well.

“Knock, knock,” Nik said as he pushed open the door to the studio.

Elliott was on the other side of the glass in the recording area, but the red light was off, indicating he wasn’t recording. He grinned when he saw Nik. “Hey, man,” he said, walking toward him. “Just working on something for the next album. I know it’s early days, but did—”

“Did you know Jenny was back?”

Elliott stopped mid-stride. “You going to try to beat the shit out of my ass if I say yes? Because you at least need to let me put down this Buckethead Signature Les Paul first. Breaking it would be sacrilegious.”

Nik paced toward the mixing desk and then back. He tugged off his hat and threw it onto the long sofa. “What the fuck, E.? I just made an idiot of myself over there.” Suddenly deflated, he flopped down onto the sofa and let his head fall back on it. “How long have you known?”

“Not very. Since we celebrated Thanksgiving late so I could be home from therapy.”

The sound of wheels on the floor told him Elliott had sat down on one of the mixing desk chairs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he said, lifting his head and looking at Elliott, who at least had the sense to look the slightest bit remorseful. He’d do just about anything for Elliott or the rest of the band, and they all knew how he felt about Jenny. Why would they would keep something so vital from him?

“The truth?” Elliott said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “Ellen asked us not to. She wanted to give Jenny a chance to settle in because this job is a big deal for her. Ellen knew you’d go straight over there as soon as you heard Jenny was in town. So we told Ellen we’d give Jenny the week, but that we’d be telling you tomorrow no matter what. I take it that you saw her already?”

Ellen had been right, of course. Going over there immediately would have been exactly what he would have done. And it soothed some of the sting to know that their objective hadn’t been to keep him away from her as much as to protect Jenny as she settled in.

In his mind, he could see Jenny standing in the garden as clearly as if she were right in front of him. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I saw her.”

“And?”

Nik shook his head. “What is this? Therapy with Elliott?”

Elliott grinned. “Well, I’ve been going through enough of it on my own recently. Figured I should share the love.”

Damn, he hadn’t meant to make fun of his friend. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to disrespect what you’re doing.” In helping Kendalee’s son recover from his burns, Elliott had realized he’d never really handled the shit start that he’d been handed in life or the demons that haunted him, so he’d finally started his own treatment. “I admire you for going there.” But therapy was somewhere Nik would never go again.

It hadn’t helped. Not with the nightmares. Not with the need to fill the hole he felt inside.

He’d spent many of his early years in care speaking with therapist after therapist, all of whom had attempted to have him relive those final moments as he’d lain on the ground, blood pouring from the knife wounds to his small body. They’d wanted him to share his feelings about watching his mom get stabbed repeatedly by their crazed neighbor, a man who’d wanted his mom so badly and who had taken being rejected so hard. He could still hear the man screaming at her for being an “Indian lover.” If she wanted to have kids, Jack Lorimer had said as he’d turned the knife on Nik, she could have done better having them with him than with a fucking native.

Seven months into his life sentence, Jack had killed himself. That had done more for Nik than any amount of sharing.

“No sweat,” Elliott said, and Nik could tell he meant it. “So, you going to tell me how badly you fucked up, or you want to beat my ass? Because if it’s the latter, I’m going to have to suggest we take it outside. Kendalee will get mightily pissed if we break furniture down here.”

Nik laughed properly, and the weight lifted from his chest. “You are so fucking whipped.”

Elliott wiggled his eyebrows. “You have no idea what Kendalee and I get up to behind closed doors. But we’re talking about you now, not me.”

“Too much info, dude.” Nik took a deep breath. “I screwed it all up.” He told Elliott about Albi and about seeing Jenny. He left out the parts where he’d thought she looked like a fucking goddess, because . . . well . . . it was Elliott.

With a creak of the chair, Elliott sat back. “She was never going to run back into bed with you, let alone fall back in love with you the moment she saw you, Nik. You know that, right?”

Nik reached for his hat and bent the brim so it would curve more around his face when he left. “I know. I knew she wouldn’t welcome me back with open arms, but after all these years, I guess . . . well, I hoped she wouldn’t be so damn hostile. What happened to time healing all wounds and all that shit?”

“I think I can safely say from my own experience that that is bullshit. I mean, as long as Daniel lives, he’s going to have the scars from the fire. Physical and emotional. And Jordan, he has Lexi, but we all know she has the patience of a saint when he texts her five times a day to make sure she’s safe. Hell, he texted me yesterday afternoon to find out where I was. And then there’s me. I get frustrated or angry, the first thing I want to reach for is a match. Even though I’m learning healthier ways of dealing with shit, it doesn’t mean that urge has gone. The only thing time really provides is distance.”

There was no question Nik’d completely underestimated everything about Jenny. For some fucked up reason, he’d always assumed she’d be happy . . . well, amenable, maybe, to talk to him when they finally saw each other again. He’d been a fool. Again.

Elliott stood and wandered over to the rack of guitars, removing two of them. He returned to Nik and handed him one. “Here,” he said. “Let’s do something useful with all the shit going on in your head.”

Nik took the guitar and stood because that was his favorite way to play. When it came to his life, there were only two things he’d ever been passionate about. Music and Jenny.

He might not know what to do about Jenny, but he was confident that his music would give him the answer. If only he could find his way back to his own rhythm.

* * *

Jenny knew she should have left the home two hours ago. It was already four, and outside the office Simon and Sarah were managing their shifts seamlessly. But every bit of energy she’d had at the start of her day off had fizzled out when Nik had appeared in the front yard.

She’d thought she’d healed from what had happened. When she’d made the decision to return to Toronto, she had been sure that enough time had passed for her to be able to see him and not feel anything. She’d envisioned their reunion happening amongst busy shoppers on Bloor Street or as passengers on opposite sides of the Sherbourne subway platform. Strangers passing in the night with barely a glance of recognition. Not up close and personal with him standing so close that she could smell his earthy cologne and see the myriad of tattoos he now had down both arms. They were new. And hot.

Only with a Herculean internal talking-to had she managed to focus on the meeting with Albi’s social worker, Serrisia. The woman was kick-ass smart, but she was stretched thin like every other social worker in the province, so they’d moved through the issues quickly. They still didn’t have a foster home for Albi, and given that he had been returned from the two previous placements, there wasn’t a long line of interested people. They’d talked about Nik’s approach with the kids, and while it went against Jenny’s grain not to reinforce taking accountability for your own actions, they both saw the merit in the approach Nik had taken. Most importantly, he’d managed to find Albi just in time to prevent a stupid idea from becoming a tragic reality. So they’d moved on to focusing on next steps, which included taking Albi to speak with the principal in the morning, upping the frequency of his sessions with his counselor, and giving him a handful of extra chores in the kitchen—all the kids’ second-least favorite punishment after loss of privileges. From the way she could hear the kitchen cupboards slamming when he was on those duties, she could tell Albi hated it more than most.

Jenny was still rooted to her chair long after Serrisia had left. Instead of getting into her car as soon as their meeting ended, perhaps going home to her small rental apartment in The Village to paint the walls the warm yellow she’d picked up at Home Depot, she’d stared blankly out her office window, trying to make sense of the roller coaster of emotions that had followed her slamming the door on Nik.

There wasn’t really anybody she could talk to; she’d never really had a lot of friends. Over the years, she’d lost contact with the rest of the children from the commune. When the police had raided the compound just as the first ten people had drunk the poisoned apple juice, there had been so many children to deal with that they had all been separated. Her connections with the few with whom she’d stayed in contact eventually fizzled after she’d moved to Ottawa.

Perhaps Ellen could give her a little more insight into both Albi and Nik. It was strange to be replacing the person she’d always looked up to as a child, but it was at the same time so special, and she knew Ellen would help.

She closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids with her fingertips. The rest of the nine-person team had this—there were always at least two people present at the house—and she had to be back early in the morning. She needed to go. She quickly packed the rest of her bags, said her goodbyes, and drove over to Ellen’s.

She parked and wandered around to the back of the house, where she found Ellen sitting on a rattan chair with a cream blanket around her shoulders, her off-white cast propped up on a stool in front of her.

“How’s the walking wounded?” Jenny asked as she headed past the whimsical border filled with ferns and fragile plants that wouldn’t last much longer as the cold nights drew in.

Ellen put down the book she was reading and peered over the top of her glasses. “Thank God, Jenny. I was going out of my mind with boredom. Go grab some coffee from the pot in the kitchen, and we can catch up.”

Jenny laughed. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, but thank you, sweetheart. I have way more than I need.” Ellen gestured to the pile of items on the small table next to her—a bowl of popcorn, a travel mug of coffee, a pile of books and magazines, a plate of sandwiches in Saran Wrap, and a large bar of chocolate. “I tried to remind Maisey that she’d only be gone for a couple of hours, but my wife has always fussed too much.”

Not wanting to keep Ellen waiting too long, Jenny hurried to the kitchen, grabbed a mug from the open shelving, and poured a large cup. She inhaled the scent and sighed. A large picture attached to the fridge with a magnet looked very recent, given that Ellen was sitting in a chair up front, her cast on full display. Maisey sat next to her. And they were surrounded by the band. Geez, was that Jordan with an actual smile on his face? He had his arm around a beautiful woman who was flashing a diamond on her ring finger, like the ones Jenny had seen on newly engaged friends’ Instagram posts. The last time she’d seen the surly guy, he’d barely spared her a word or a look. Dred had his arms wrapped around a woman with bright purple hair, his hands resting on what was clearly her baby bump. Elliott had his lips pressed to the temple of a lovely but slighter older than he was strawberry blonde and had his arm slung over the shoulder of a young boy who was making a mock-gag gesture with his fingers. Lennon sat on the floor next to Ellen, looking off into space.

And Nik.

Was holding a child about a year old?

Her heart stopped in her throat. She’d done her best to avoid any news about them over the years, but she vaguely remembered having read somewhere about Dred having a child. And when she looked more closely, she saw that the little girl had soft curls and dark brown eyes like her father’s.

“What would it matter if he had a child anyway?” she mumbled to herself.

Envy was a horrible thing, but it hurt to know that they had all stayed close to each other, and to Maisie and Ellen, when a loving family was all she’d ever craved.

Jenny wandered back to Ellen and sat down opposite her.

“What’s got you so glum?” Ellen asked.

She forced a smile she didn’t feel onto her face. “Oh, nothing, I’m fine. Just work. I came to pick your brain about—”

“You always were a lousy liar, just like Elliott. Let’s talk work later. What’s on your mind?”

Jenny slumped back into the chair. “I always wished I could have lived at the home you ran. I envied the sense of family Nik and the boys always had.” She sighed at the futility of wishing for something she knew she could never go back and find. “I guess the picture on the fridge showed me how close you all are still.”

“Oh, Jenny. You know, there are great homes, and good homes, and average homes, and rough homes. I feel for every single child who passes through the system without feeling a real sense of belonging.”

“I’ve never had that. Well, maybe I did until I was about seven. I had a room and toys, but home was never normal. Dad was always going on about some scientific phenomenon or other and how it was a sign.” She couldn’t even look up at the sky now. So many nights she’d been forced outside in all kinds of weather to look for UFOs, comets, planets . . . anything that might tell her father just when the Earth would be turned over to him. “I got a letter from him, from Millhaven. They’re transferring him from the secure unit into the main prison. He wants to see me.”

“Your father was a very ill man, Jenny. He was delusional and lacked the mental capacity to know better. Have you been to see him?”

Jenny shook her head. She’d driven past the exit on her drive back from Ottawa, but it had never occurred to her even once to take it. That part of her life was over. Something else she’d moved on from. “I haven’t ever been to see him. I just can’t. And right now . . . it’s . . . I guess it’s like my past is crashing around me a little bit. And I didn’t think it would affect me quite the way it has.”

Ellen reached for Jenny’s hand. “I can’t imagine what it feels like, Jenny. You know you owe him nothing, you need never see him if you don’t want to. But I do know you need to process it, not ignore it and let it fester.”

“I saw Nik today.”

Ellen took a quick breath. “Oh, sweetheart. It really is all happening at once, isn’t it? How was it?”

Jenny took a sip of coffee and tilted her face to the early November sunshine. She debated lying but thought better of it. “I wasn’t expecting it to still hurt.”

They sat in silence for a moment. A red cardinal hopped along the fence, and a blue jay pecked at the food in the bird feeder.

“I’ve told every child in my care to rip a Band-Aid off quickly, that it is less painful,” Ellen said carefully. “But I never actually believed it. It hurts just as much. It’s over faster, but I always believed it hurts just as deeply.” She sighed. “Well, at least it’s out of the way now. The first time is bound to hurt the most.”

“He wants to see me to talk, to have dinner with him, but I can’t do it, Ellen.”

“Only you can decide whether that is a good idea. But I will say this, Jenny. Nik has changed. He cares deeply for the rest of his brothers, has spent most of his life turning them into a family even when it wasn’t in his own best interests to do so.”

Jenny shook her head. “I’ve tried to stay away from media reports of them, but from what I’ve seen, the media makes it sound like Dred is the lynchpin of the band.”

Ellen laughed sadly. “From a business perspective, yes he has been. But it’s Nik who has brought them together and kept them together as brothers. They’ve always had their roles in their family. Elliott has been the healer. Dred is the one with the drive and perfectionism, the one who pushed them. Jordan is their soul, and if I’m honest, they’ve yet to realize just what Lennon brings because . . . well, Lennon has his own reasons. But Nik. He’s been the glue, the peacemaker, the negotiator. Without Nik, I don’t know where they would all be.”

Damn.

“That sounds a little like a view through rose-tinted glasses. Are you sure you’re being objective, Ellen?”

Ellen looked at Jenny carefully. “Probably not, sweetheart. But he is a different man now. He doesn’t do—”

“What about the sex-tapes that are all over the news?” she blurted quickly.

“What about them?” Ellen asked. “They’re years old, Jenny. Not that I wanted to see it, but I couldn’t miss that grainy image they put on the front page of the paper. Even I know he’s had a lot of tattoos added since that video was made. Was he foolish to record them? Of course. Does he regret them? You’d have to ask him.”

“He cheated on me.” Jenny could feel herself getting annoyed with Ellen. She hadn’t come here for Ellen to defend him. She’d just thought Ellen might be able to share some advice on how to handle things.

“I know he did. And I can’t make any excuses for that. But he’s a different person from the kid he was back then, Jenny. And only you can decide if you want to get to know who he is now.”