Ally sat down on the chair Rez had vacated and elbows on the table put her head in her hands. What had just happened? It was one thing taking time off the tour, time off recording and events, another completely being without a manager. What about the contract she had with Rez, she thought then? The new album? What if Rez sued as he'd implied? What then? Would she go bankrupt? She wouldn't be the first, or the last.

Money was never important to her – it never was the reason for going into the business in the first place, but it was nice not to have to worry about it anymore and even be able to treat her father every once in a while. She'd just have to put out a new album, that was all, better than the first one, and she had enough confidence in herself now to know she could do it, especially if Jackson worked on it with her.

She looked up and began to laugh. She felt strangely liberated now, almost euphoric about it. She had a sense that everything would work out. After all, there were other music managers out there. She and Rez had had so many creative differences lately, so many disagreements, notwithstanding his constant criticism of Jackson, that she couldn't help thinking that going their separate ways was a blessing in disguise.

She scrambled to her feet, suddenly excited to share her news with Jack. The house was strangely silent, the living room empty, and frowning she wondered what Jack and Bobby were up to. She heard growling through the open door that led to the backyard, then Bobby's resonating laughter, and when she followed the sound she found them there, Jack playing with Charlie while Bobby leaned back on the couch, watching. Jackson had slipped on some old jeans and a T-shirt, and she felt heartened by the sight of the two brothers, happily chatting and joking together.

If only she could suspend time, she thought, emotion tugging at her heart. Bobby looked over to her unexpectedly, meeting her gaze dead on, and quickly wiping at her eyes she gave him a wave and a bright smile. Jackson turned and his grin widening beckoned her over. Her smile trembling, she licked her lips, then lifted her index finger in the air, indicating that she wouldn't be long. She went back to the kitchen and looked in the fridge for some cold drinks to take out to them, frowning at the six-pack of beer she found there.

She took one of the bottles out and laughed at the large 0.0% emblazoned across the front of the label. She checked the small print carefully, making sure that the beer was indeed non-alcoholic rather than low-alcohol, chastising herself that doing so meant she didn't fully trust Jackson. She took two more bottles out, uncapped them, then reached for a packet of potato chips from the cupboard. When she returned, the two brothers hadn't moved. Bobby glanced in her direction and smiling widely she joined their side.

"I got refreshment," she said cheerfully, lifting her celebratory booty in the air.

Recognising the bottles, Jackson met her gaze and laughed. He walked over and took two bottles out of her hands. "She got me on this shit," he then said, handing one to Bobby while he kept the other.

"No, I didn't," Ally defended in a chuckle.

"Well, I'll be damned," Bobby exclaimed, laughing as sitting forward he studied the label. He cocked a brow at his brother. "Booze-free beer?"

Jackson winked at Ally, and she shook her head in amusement, in happiness. It was so good to see him so carefree, joking and well.

"This shit's better for you than the other shit, that's for sure," she said, taking a seat next to Bobby on the couch

"She's got a point there," Bobby said, raising his bottle in a toast.

Pulling a face, Jack clinked his bottle against Bobby's, and then against Ally's. "You ganging up on me?" he said, bringing the bottle to his lips.

Bobby took a sip, wincing as he swallowed it. "Tastes like shit too."

Jack snorted, almost choking on his mouthful, and the three burst out laughing. The smile lingering on her lips, Ally flicked her eyes between Jack and Bobby. Whatever talk they'd had seemed to have cleared the air and done Jack good. Smiling, Bobby caught her eye, and she smiled back. Charlie barked, and Jack turned back to him.

"You want some too?" he asked the dog, laughing as he crouched down and tipped the bottle to his snout.

"Jackson—" Ally said, chastising.

"Won't do him any harm," he said, as Charlie began lapping at the trickle of liquid. And then flicking his gaze over to her, "I take it Rez is gone?"

"Yeah." Her smile fading, she put her bottle down on the ground and pulling at the edges opened the bag of potato chips. She took a handful and passed the bag to Bobby, then looked up at Jack who was still watching her expectantly. She shrugged. "He came to see if…if, well I would reconsider—"

"He doesn't want to cancel the European tour," Jack said.

"No, he doesn't." Remembering Bobby had heard some of the conversation, she glanced toward him. "To cut a long story short," she went on, breaking into a wide smile, "Rez and I have parted ways."

"What?" Jack exclaimed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Her shoulder lifting she gave a giddy laugh. "Rez isn't my manager anymore."

"Good riddance," Bobby said, reaching over to pat her on the leg. "I never liked the guy."

"What the fuck happened?" Jack exclaimed angrily, suddenly.

Ally recoiled, briefly shocked into silence by the intensity of his reaction.

"Jack, please, don't overreact," Bobby said, his voice quiet but steady. "There are plenty more music managers out there. Someone with Ally's talent won't be short of offers."

Jack fixed Bobby with a dark stare.

"I thought you'd be happy," Ally said, uncomprehending and fearful all of a sudden.

In her haste to go to him, calm him down and explain, she stood up abruptly, knocking down her beer bottle, which began to spill at her feet. She went to Jack but he turned away from her, and she glanced at Bobby despondently. He was looking as stunned as she felt.

"But Jack, I don't understand. You were always against him, always telling how—"

Jack glanced over his shoulder, but didn't meet either hers or Bobby's gaze. His expression was dark, guarded, his eyes anxious, and she faltered. "I'm going to…" He nodded toward the house, "go and get dinner started."

"Jack," Ally called again sadly, pleadingly, trying to make sense of his reaction as she watched him go, Charlie following behind. Again she made to go to him but Bobby stood and caught her hand, keeping her in place.

"Give him a little time," he said softly, releasing her hand when she turned toward him. "He'll come around."

"You think so?"

Bobby smiled, nodded, then he patted a comforting hand to her shoulder. "The news came out of the blue, is all."

She turned back toward the house. "I really thought he'd be happy."

"He's only thinking of you, Ally. Of what's best for you. He may not have liked Rez, but the guy did alright by you, career-wise anyways."

Ally gave a distracted nod. "I'm just…" She indicated the house. "I need to make sure he's okay."

"He's fine," Bobby insisted, stopping her short, as he resumed his seat on the couch. "He's got Charlie with him. We'll know if something's wrong."

"He had Charlie with him last night," she bit back, and sighed, immediately contrite. "I'm sorry." Pausing, she rubbed at her face wearily. "Do you think he knows what's going on? Charlie, I mean. It's just…that since last night, he's been like a shadow to him, even more so than usual."

"Sure he does. Dogs sense these things, don't they."

Ally gave a musing nod.

"You got to trust him," Bobby went on matter-of-factly. "He's not a child; you can't watch him 24/7."

She gave a wry smile. "Easier said than done."

Bobby nodded his agreement. "But you can't be with him every second of the day, and certainly you won't be with him every time something doesn't go his way and he gets upset." Pausing, he gave her a kind smile and patted the space on the couch beside him. "Don't crowd him too much when he's like that. He just needs a little time and space, but I'm sure he'll come around."

Bobby's words gave her pause, his reassuring presence having a calming effect on her, and straightening up her beer bottle she sat down next to him. "Did he say something to you?" she asked after a beat in silence thinking his words over. "I mean, did he say he felt…" she swallowed the constriction in her throat, "Crowded?"

"No," Bobby denied, his head shaking. "Ally, no. He didn't. That's not what I meant at all. But I've known him a long time," he added, chuckling softly to himself. "When he gets in that mood of his, it's best to stay out of the way. He just needs to figure stuff out for himself, get his head straight."

Tucking her legs underneath her for comfort, Ally cast worried eyes toward the house and nodded her head.

"You've done a much better job keeping him sober than I ever did, that's for sure. And maybe I didn't try hard enough. But he's come a long way, and now, you just got to…trust that…that he'll do the right thing."

She gave a sad laugh. "How can I trust him—how can you say that after last night?"

Bobby didn't reply for a long moment, and when he did his voice was quiet, introspective. "That's a tough one. But if you want my two cents' worth, I think last night was the wake-up call he needed."

She turned to look at Bobby. "Did he say something to you?" she asked hesitantly.

Bobby shook his head softly. "No, not much. Not in so many words, but he was sorry. He is sorry for what happened. I believe that." His eyes filled suddenly, and when he looked away toward the woods beyond she knew there was more he wasn't telling her.

"Did he tell you we're going to have a pool built?" she said, with fake levity, needing to change the subject.

Bobby registered a look of surprise, winced as he took another sip of his drink. "What here, in the backyard?"

She gave a soft nod.

He chuckled. "No, I can't say that he did."

"I'm hoping it'll help him, you know? Like it did when he was in rehab."

"It's a good idea." Bobby ran his gaze over the yard. "It might mean cutting down some of the trees though."

Ally gave a nod.

Bobby turned toward her decisively. "I know a good contractor, if you're interested. I'll text you his number."

Ally brightened up. "Sure. Thank you."

They lapsed into companionable silence and sat there side by side, lost in their own thoughts, for a long moment, until Bobby shifted beside her, picking up both his and her empty beer bottles off the ground as he pushed to his feet. "Come on," he then said, "Let's go inside. He's had long enough and I'm hungry."

They followed the smell of cooking all the way to the kitchen. Jackson was at the stove, adding chopped green and red bell peppers to ground beef and onions already frying in a deep skillet. He gave the mixture a stir, added a can of chopped tomatoes. A couple of empty alcohol-free beer bottles lay discarded on the side. Ally closed her arms around him from behind and, trying to impart strength and support, and much love and affection, leaned her head against his shoulder. Charlie was watching, guarding, from his basket.

"Chili," Bobby said, rubbing his hands with glee. "My favourite."

"Mine too," she said, pulling away from Jack.

Jackson didn't speak, and sharing a long look she and Bobby followed his cue. Wordlessly, they set the table and, while Bobby made fresh drinks for everyone, she grated cheese. Bobby chuckled unexpectedly, then began regaling them a few tales of touring with Willie. She gave him a warm smile, grateful for his support. Jackson made a few comments, but he was gloomy and distracted.

"Oh, this is good, Jack," Bobby said, his mouth full when finally the three sat down to eat. "Thank you."

Jack gave a nod, a stiff smile, before he started shovelling food into his mouth. Pleased to see that he hadn't lost his appetite, Ally put grated cheese over hers and began eating.

"Jack and I are going on a road trip tomorrow," she then said, chewing, concerned eyes flicking to Jack as she spoke to Bobby.

"Oh, yeah?"

Ally refocused on Bobby. He was watching Jackson warily, and she sighed. "I thought we might go for a ride along the PCH, stop somewhere for a picnic."

"I know this great spot," Bobby said, turning his attention back to her before bringing another forkful of chili to his mouth. "Point Mugu State Park. Get Jack to take you there."

She brought more food to her mouth. "I've never heard of the place."

"It's beautiful, Ally, and quiet. You got the ocean on one side and chaparral-covered mountains on the other."

She smiled. "You sound just like a tour guide."

He laughed. "Well, listen to this then. If you're lucky, you'll spot seals and dolphins, whales even. And the beaches…You got five miles of beautiful oceanfront beaches."

"I didn't know you liked the beach."

Bobby gave an easy shrug. "I'm not much of a swimmer, not like Jackson here, but I like walking along the shore, you know, dig my feet into the wet sand, feel the ocean breeze in my hair…" He let his words trail off, waggled his brow and then gave a wide smile.

"You heard that, Jack?" Ally said, laughing.

Jackson looked up with a start, refocusing on the pair as though he'd forgotten that they were there.

"You okay?" she asked in a whisper, her smile fading.

"Sure. Sorry. I was…." He gave his head a shake, tried an unconvincing smile.

"Bobby suggested we went to Point Mugu tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" he repeated, clearly puzzled.

She sighed. "The trip out on the bike?"

Scrunching his eyes shut, Jackson rubbed at his temple wearily. "Sure," he replied distractedly, and resumed eating.

Ally and Bobby shared a look and wordlessly continued eating too. When he finished his plate, Jackson got up from his seat, and she watched as he opened and shut drawers impatiently.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

He opened one last drawer, took out a battered packet of cigarettes. Finding a lighter, he took a cigarette out, lit it with shaky fingers and leaning against the kitchen island closed his eyes and took a long drag. Ally watched powerlessly, then looked over at Bobby who sighed.

"Jack—" she said pleadingly.

"What?" he snapped.

Her expression darkened angrily. She stood up, walked up to him decisively, then pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and ran it under the cold tap. "There!" she said, turning back around. "You want a fight, then you've fucking got one!"

He was about to say something when he glanced at Bobby. He flicked his eyes back to Ally before turning on his heels and heading out of the door.

"Jack—" she called after him, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had flared.

Bobby finished his drink. "Sweetie, I think that's my cue," he then said, pushing to his feet.

"I'm sorry," she told Bobby, tears in her eyes. "I didn't mean to…" She clamped her jaw shut. "It's just—he's just so fucking infuriating! Smoking makes the tinnitus worse. He knows that."

"So does the booze, and the drugs. It never stopped him in the past." Bobby paused, checked himself. "You hang in there, Ally," he then said, patting his hand to her shoulder supportively. "He's making progress."

Scoffing in disbelief, she hooked a thumb toward the rest of the house. "You think that's progress?"

He chuckled. "He sat through the meal, didn't he? Hell, he even cooked it, and completely sober at that. I'd say that's progress." Leaning down, he bussed her on the cheek. "Thank you for having me over."

Her expression softened. "You two managed to clear the air, didn't you?"

"We did. We did, and I thank you for that too."

He squeezed her shoulder, and she gave him a smile. "I'm sorry I spoiled tonight," she said.

"You didn't spoil tonight. Jackson did."

After Bobby left, she packaged the leftovers and put them in the fridge, then she cleared the kitchen, tossing the packet of cigarettes in the trash, before she went looking for Jack. He wasn't in the house, and when she looked through the living room window she found him sitting on the couch in the darkened backyard. She went to get a sweater and joined him there. He was leaning forward, head bowed down in his hands. She sat down next to him and stroked her hand to his back tenderly.

"Jack, talk to me, please," she said quietly, reproach-free, "You angry I fired Rez, is that it? I thought you'd be pleased. You never liked him. You never liked—"

"I don't like him, you're right," he cut in, whipping his head up. "And I don't like what he represents." He let out a heavy breath, stood up and began to pace. "I may not like the direction he takes you, but he's made you into a star in your own right. He's given you confidence in yourself, the confidence to shine."

"You did that. Not Rez."

"Maybe at the start, yes, I gave you a stage, but the rest…the rest you did – you and Rez." His eyes filled unexpectedly, and he wiped at them angrily. "Like it or not, Rez has given you your own voice, Ally, your own sound, which is something you'd never have had if you'd stayed in my shadow."

"That's not true," she defended.

"I hate what you've done, Ally," he went on, speaking over her words. He clamped his mouth shut and balled his hand into a tight fist. "I hate that yet again you're risking it all because of me. Because I'm so fucking weak."

"You're not weak," she defended, getting up and taking his hand.

"What about your album?" he countered, pulling his hand away. "You can't stop half-way through promoting it!" He wiped at his eyes again. "And you've worked so hard for it. So damn hard. And it's so fucking beautiful. I can't let you throw all that away. Not for me." His voice cracked, and he looked away.

She reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Her voice was soft and tender as she spoke. "I'm not throwing anything away," she repeated forcefully. "I'm just putting you first."

His head shaking, he took a step back from her. "How do you think that makes me feel?" he argued heatedly. He looked up and met her gaze dead on. The desperation and wretchedness in his watery eyes tugged at her heart. "Knowing you're risking—fucking sacrificing yourself for a fuck-up like me."

Holding his gaze, she leaned forward. "You are not a fuck-up."

He rubbed a heavy fist to his head while pacing again, and she understood then that the negative thoughts in his heads were winning. "Rez is fucking right," he muttered. "I'm no good for you."

Unsure how best to get through to him, she watched him fearfully.

He gave a sad laugh, almost a sob, then ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I need a drink. I need a fucking drink."

She grabbed his arm. "No, you don't. You're doing fine. Jack, listen to me. I got it all figured out. I was thinking that maybe you could manage me."

He turned wide, incredulous eyes toward her. "Manage you?" He gave another sad, humourless laugh. "Ally, are you out of your fucking mind? First, you ask me to write songs for you and I'm thinking…okay, maybe I can do that. I can't write a pop song to save my life but maybe I can try. And now you're asking me to manage you?" His voice rose in anger, in frustration and misery. "Ally, I couldn't even fucking manage myself. Hell, Bobby couldn't either and God knows he fucking tried."

She reached out to him, but he raised his hand, keeping her at bay.

"This is too much," he said, walking away, "Too fucking much."

She thought he was headed indoors when he carried on up and around to the path leading up to the front of the house. "Jack, where are you going?" she called, helplessly watching as he disappeared into the darkness out of sight. "Jack?"

He didn't reply. He simply whistled for Charlie who made to follow him then stopped and looked at Ally uncertainly and then back in the direction Jack had taken.

"Go," Ally said. "Go with him."

She had to trust he would be fine, that he just needed time and space to calm down and clear his head, but that ultimately he would be fine. Wrapping her arms around herself, she dropped down onto the couch, tucked her legs underneath herself and waited for him to come back. When he didn't, she checked the house, and then the garage, but all was dark there, in place, his truck and motorbike accounted for. When she grew cold, she went inside and sat down at the piano. And played.

When an hour later, he still hadn't come back she went to bed. She tried to remember if he was wearing his belt, reasoned that unlike the previous night he was sober and in full possession of his faculties.

And when all else failed, she prayed.

Prayed to God that he was winning the battle.