Don't You Dare: A Synyster Gates Story

Chapter Thirty-Six

Three years later.

The bus barreled down the road, swaying with the curves of the road. The sky was threatening to fall with the rain that was looming in the clouds above them.

Brian plopped down on one of the couches in the quiet living area of the bus. The Avenged Sevenfold tour bus had changed in many ways over the last few years. It was quieter, cleaner, contained way less alcohol and way fewer drugs, and not a single random groupie.

Subconsciously, Brian clutched his phone tight, pressing the home button to light up the screen so he could check for notifications. There were none. He exhaled. But he wasn't sure if it was with relief or anxiety.

Johnny sat on the couch across from Brian with his phone held up to his ear. "Hey babe," he greeted the person on the phone, who Brian assumed was Johnny's fiancee. Yeah, the idiot did actually manage to trick someone into falling in love with his short ass.

"We're on our way home," Johnny said into the phone with a smile on his face.

Brian pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes then turned the other way. On the other end of the couch from him, Val and Matt were snuggled up together. Valary's last tour as the band's tour manager had just come to an end. Four months pregnant with their first son, she decided to finally pass the band-managing torch onto someone from the record label. It was bittersweet for everyone.

"I know," Johnny cooed into the phone. "I can't wait to get home to you."

Yearning grew in Brian's chest. He understood Johnny's sentiment – it had been a long tour and he was ready to get home – but he knew he'd be walking into an empty house when he got home, and it was killing him. He was dreading it.

Conflicted and full of emotions, Brian frowned. Then he looked down and checked his phone. Again. For the second time in sixty seconds.

The screen was blank. Nothing. No notifications. His knee bounced as he sighed.

"I know you're anxious, but we'll be home soon, dude," Zacky reminded him sympathetically, smacking him lovingly on the shoulder as he walked by.

Brian nodded with a slight frown.

It was pouring when Brian finally walked through his front door that night. The house was dark and still. He dropped his bag by the threshold and waited for his dog to come running down the stairs.

But he didn't.

"Boomer!" Brian called.

Still nothing.

"Son of a bitch," Brian muttered to himself.

Boomer was probably hiding under the bed. Which is what he did when he was guilty. Which meant there was a mess somewhere in the house that Brian would eventually find and have to clean up.

As he kicked off his shoes and stalked upstairs, he prayed that the dog didn't give the housekeepers too much trouble while he was gone. Because they were hired as housekeepers, but the poor older ladies had to double as dog-sitters when it was tour season. And Boomer was a force to be reckoned with - not always in a good way.

When he opened the bedroom door, he didn't see Boomer. But what he saw instead made his heart do little leaps in his chest.

"Aubrey?" He asked with an abundance of excitement at the sight of his wife standing at the foot of their bed folding laundry.

She spun around, pulling her headphones out of her ears, and her nine-month pregnant belly came into full view.

"Oh, dang it," she griped. "I didn't hear you come in. I didn't think you'd be home for at least another hour!"