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.When he and Brody had stuffed clothes in a couple of backpacks and left the compound the day after they turned eighteen, their only goal had been to get the hell out.Of course, they’d yet to learn that even if the band’s notoriety and debauchery didn’t dog them out the door, their own memories couldn’t be outrun.They’d lived out of their cars at first, signing up as day laborers.Hard work and sweat had actually been a balm of sorts, or maybe they’d just been too tired at the end of the day to dwell on the ugly ending to an adolescence filled with all kinds of unhealthy excess.Then they’d taken semi-permanent positions on a construction crew that specialized in rehabbing beach cottages and a dream had been born.The two kids who as children had escaped home to build their own places and spaces amongst the canyon’s oaks and eucalyptus had found an adult outlet for their imagination and ingenuity.Years later, they had their own business, with a portfolio to be proud of and glowing referrals that kept them busy during every season.As he breezed through the reception area, he noted a photo of their latest project had been hung next to the string of others.The photographer had taken a shot of the Seaberg place from offshore, so the blue water of Santa Monica Bay and a golden stretch of Malibu sand were included.Another new frame caught his eye and he paused, a smile tugging at his lips.Cilla, he thought.His sweet little sister, Cilla.She’d been sorting the belongings of the late Gwendolyn Moon, infamous rock ‘n’ roll groupie who’d lived in a cottage at the Laurel Canyon compound where she’d also served as a mother of sorts to the Lemons’ nine children.After Gwen’s recent death from cancer, Ren Colson, band member String Bean’s eldest son, discovered she’d left him a stash of photos dating back to their childhoods.The man was oddly silent on the subject, but Cilla occasionally shared special finds.This was one, Bing suspected.It showed him and Brody, age twelve or so, standing at the base of a treehouse they’d constructed deep in the fissures of the canyon behind the compound.He remembered that particular structure well.They’d made an actual staircase instead of a simple ladder ascent.A rope and bucket stood at the ready to haul up supplies.A railed sleeping porch was big enough for two bags.There, they’d sought refuge from the parties, the noise, the general chaos of the Velvet Lemons lifestyle.It had eventually caught up with them, but Bing and his twin had been relative innocents when this photograph was taken.Still smiling, he strode into the hall that led to the conference room, drafting room, and the generous-sized offices that belonged to him and Brody.Out of nowhere, his brother appeared, big hands slamming against his shoulders to shove Bing against the wall.He hit with a thud that rattled the windows.“What—”“That’s my question.” Brody stared at him through furious eyes.“What the hell are you doing with Lex?”“Uh—”“Don’t try to deny it.Roberto and Jim saw you two at the deli.They said it looked cozy.”“Roberto and Jim are gossipy old ladies.You know how drywallers are.” Plumbers kept to themselves, carpenters bragged unceasingly about their sexual exploits, but the guys who put up the sheetrock, taped the seams, then spread the mud talked nonstop about everybody and everything.“We were getting some water.No big deal.”Bing figured he didn’t owe his bro any more than that, though, shit, he hadn’t even noticed the other men in the small store.When Alexa was around, his focus narrowed to a single fine point.Brody backed off, but his expression remained suspicious.“What aren’t you telling me?”“So we’re into sharing secrets now?” Bing crossed his arms over his chest.“Then I expect a full report on your latest pleasure trip.”His brother muttered something ugly.He sighed.They each had their own manner of dealing when darkness crept up from the depths of their souls.Bing would head to the soundproof basement room at his old house in the compound and beat the shit out of the skins on his drum kit until he’d lost a gallon of sweat and all the feeling in his fingers.Brody would…Well, Bing wasn’t entirely sure, but certainly it involved Brody dragging his good-twin angel wings through some very grimy gutters.As his brother frowned, the tired lines around his eyes deepened.“You’re doing nothing with Lex?”Bing hesitated.Flat-out lying to a twin—there were unwritten rules about the practice.And rules about something else, too.His belly tightened
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