Standing By

Reconnecting

"Who the hell's Elliott?" I hissed to Rob, who seemed to have adopted a permanent expression of confusion. "Chance?"

"Thank you," he said, sounding a bit relieved. "I can breathe now. Chris, please—"

"No offense," I began delicately, sensing he was somewhat irritable, though understandably so. "But could we just, um. The five, or six, of us?" In other words, get rid of this Elliott dude.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, staying between the seven of us," Chance muttered carelessly.

"Six," I insisted. "Home Free only."

"That eliminates you then," Tim said with a snort.

I rolled my eyes as Rob poked me, smirking. "Current and former Home Free only."

Someone started a low rumble of laughter over there. "In other words, you think you want Elliott gone?"

"Elliott is my friend, Chris," Tim explained as Austin muttered, "Never mind Elliott. Chris, where's Adam?"

"I'm getting ready to explain, Austin, keep your pants on," I complained. "But again, this is on a need-to-know basis. Your friend there does not need to know."

"Please, Chris," Elliott begged. "I'm worried about Adam. He and I—"

"I'm inclined to agree with Chris," Rob came in on my side. "Home Free only. Elliott, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to step away, please."

"Chris, Rob," Tim argued. "Listen to me. Please. You don't even know my story yet."

"I know parts of it!" Rob snapped.

"Whataya mean?" I asked, clueless.

"First things first. Let us talk to Adam," Austin demanded.

"First first thing is Elliott steps away," I argued, getting irritated. Is it too much to ask for a little privacy and discretion? I didn't care if he was Tim's friend; Adam deserved privacy. We didn't know him, and frankly, Adam is a celebrity. I couldn't have him running and selling him out to the tabloids or have my little brother's medical information featured on TMZ! Couldn't they understand that?

"Chris," Elliott said softly. "It's me. Elliott Robinson. I'm Tim's lawyer; he was accused of domestic violence charges and I happened to be at the jail when he was brought in, so I took his case."

I froze. Domestic violence? Tim?!?! What the hell??? "Bullshit," I said, shaking my head. "Tim would never."

"Thank you, Chris," Tim sniffled. "My Nashville ex-friends believed her lies. You guys—and Pentatonix—are the only ones that believed me."

"We know you," I told him. "I've known you a long time, since... since..." I racked my brain. We've been through so many basses. "2010?"

"2009," Tim and Elliott corrected me together.

"Somewhere in there," I muttered, trying to figure out how Elliott knew that.

"I thought it was 2008." Rob crinkled his nose in thought.

"Nope, 2009," Tim confirmed. "Right after Elliott here."

"Yeah, right after Elliott Rob—wait!" I suddenly started, nearly falling off my brick—I mean, bench. "Who did you say your lawyer was?"

"Elliott Robinson," the lawyer said. "The one and the same."

I did fall off the bench and onto the gross floor at that. Rob started cackling at me. Hands on the seat, I started hoisting myself back up. "Elliott? You're kidding me."