Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)

Rae understood me within the words of my songs. She had right from the beginning when I showed her the lead song on the album.

I love the symbolism of the man being a prisoner of his own insecurities, which causes him to be incapable of love. And then he finds the woman who sets him free.

Was I truly incapable of love? Or had I not found the right person to love?

One thing I was absolutely certain about was that Rae had set me free. In more ways than one.

It had been right in front of my face all along. All the things I wanted to say to Rae but I didn’t think I express verbally I could put into a song. “I could write her a song and then sing it to her.”

“Exactly.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’m going to need some things from you.”

“Shoot.”

“First, I need some Thai or Indian takeout. Something about spicy food gets the juices flowing.”

Eli grinned. “As well as your sinuses.”

I laughed, both the sound and sensation of it feeling so foreign. It had been well over a week since I’d found anything remotely funny to laugh at. “Exactly.”

“What else?”

“While you order the food, I’m going to grab a shower.”

“Thank God. You seriously stink to high heaven, bro.”

“Whatever.”

Cocking his head at me, Eli asked, “Once you have a shower and takeout, what next?”

“I’m going to need some privacy. Do you think you could manage not to burst in here for the rest of the night?”

“Now that I don’t have to fear you’re in here impaling yourself on your drumsticks, I will be happy to leave you alone. In fact, I’ll go one step further and call Ashton to see if I can go over to her place.”

Ashton was one of the backup singers for Jacob’s Ladder, and Eli had been on and off again with her for over a year.

“Still trying to make it work with her?”

“Yep. Even though she’s not the one, she’s a lot of fun to be with.” He waggled his brows. “Not to mention she gives the best head I’ve had in years.”

I groaned. “Like I needed to know that.”

“She sucks like a Hoover.”

Holding up a hand, I replied, “Enough. If you don’t stop, I am going to impale you on one of my drumsticks.”

Eli laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up and go order both Thai and Indian takeout.” He winked at me. “I don’t want there to be anything stopping you from penning just the right words to get Rae back.

“Why, Eli?”

“Because you’re a great fit, G. She’s your one.”

When he started to rise off the bed, I reached out for his arm. “Thanks, Eli. I owe you hell of a lot.”

A sincere smile spread across his face. “Glad you came to me.”

“Always be there for you, man.”

“I know that. You’re my brother—my twin.” Eli started for the door and then stopped. Turning around he said, “You know, Gabe, it’s not just you having Rae that I envy.”

My heartbeat skidded to a stop before restarting. “It’s not?”

“I know you think—that you’ve always thought—you got the short end of the talent stick between the two of us and with Micah and Abby, but you are so much more than you realize. What you do with the words and the music you weave together is something I will always be envious of.”

I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry. “Fuck,” I croaked.

With a chuckle, Eli said, “Now there’s something. I’ve made the master of words speechless.”

“You have, and it pisses me off because I would really like to tell you what it means to me.”

“It’s not necessary. I can see everything you want to say in your eyes.”

I furrowed my brows. “You can?”

He nodded. “And you’re welcome.” Jerking his chin at the bathroom door, he added, “Now go clean yourself up. No woman would want your stinky ass.”

With a laugh, I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”





Seven days. No, I wasn’t referencing the horror movie The Ring, although my appearance had started to resemble Samara’s over the last week. I was talking more about how long it had been since I’d seen or heard from Gabe. The last image remained burned into my mind—the one of him hugging Linc before I blew out of the auditorium and started my Forest Gump run to see Kennedy and Ellie.

For the first few days, I continuously checked my phone every other minute to see if he’d reached out to me. After I didn’t receive a text or call for him, I stopped checking every few seconds. Yesterday I’d made it half the morning before I checked.

I wasn’t sure why I expected him to call—I certainly hadn’t left him with any indication that I wanted him to. That day at Linc’s school, we’d both slung enough hurtful words at each other that I wasn’t sure who had said or done worse. For the life of me, I still couldn’t bring myself to be the bigger person and call him. I wanted to tell him I had been wrong about Linc playing the guitar and knew I had completely overreacted about him giving Linc a guitar.

But I didn’t. I moped around the shop and the house. While I barely ate, I did manage to drink a little too much. It was quite unseemly, as Aunt Sadie would say, since I did a lot of it alone in my bedroom.

This day found me sitting outside in the front porch swing. I didn’t know how long I’d been staring into space, when I heard a voice from the doorway. “Would you like some company?”

“I’m not sure I’m one for company these days,” I answered honestly.

Aunt Sadie bobbed her head before ambling down the porch to the swing. Jabbing her cane at me, she said, “Scoot over.”

“Fine,” I muttered.

Once I’d given her adequate room to sit, she plopped down beside me and peered at me with a wry smile. “In a small town, it’s much more proper if you do your grieving inside the walls of your house, rather than on the front porch.”

“Is that what people are saying? That I’m grieving for Gabe?”

“No. I think the people in town are still hung up on the fact that you had a public breakup at the elementary school talent show.”

I groaned. “I figured as much.”

“The part about grieving inside the house came from my meddling Great-Aunt Alva after I lost George in the war.” Aunt Saddie patted the bottom of the swing we sat in. “I don’t know how many months I sat here, hoping against hope, that somehow the military had been wrong and he would come bounding up the sidewalk for me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Aunt Sadie, and I really mean that. I’ve always felt so sorry for you that you lost the only man you ever loved.”

Aunt Sadie swung her knees over to where they bumped into mine so she could face me. “Do you know why I never married?”

“Because you lost George.”

Slowly, she shook her head back and forth. “George was the first love of my life, but there was a second love, one that almost broke me.”

“Holy shit,” I muttered. Normally, I would’ve tempered my language some in front of Aunt Sadie, but this earth shattering tidbit warranted a little cussing. Leaning closer to her, I asked, “Who was he?”