by Casey, Ember
Pax is only breathing a few times a minute now. The doctor warned us that the process wouldn’t be immediate, that it might take several minutes for the breathing reflex to stop on its own.
I look up at the heart rate machine. I don’t know what a normal rate is, but I’m sure it isn’t this slow. And each second, the number drops.
I should be looking at my husband, not at some idiotic machine. My gaze goes back to Pax before I close my eyes. I’m not even sure what I’m doing, but I can feel a big ball of energy in my chest, and I imagine myself throwing it at him, screaming silently at him to wake the fuck up. To not give up. To fight like the man I know he is.
Part of me knows it’s fruitless, but I can’t help but do it anyway. I’m begging him—pleading with him—to pull himself away from the grip of death.
Fight!
Nicholas has come up beside me, and slides an arm around my shoulders, patting my back. He tips his head to my ear. “He’s gone, Sophia.”
I open my eyes to see the machine is now showing just a flat line instead of the occasional jagged one. The beeping has stopped, replaced by a single, uninterrupted electronic sound.
The nurse pushes a button and the sound stops as the machine goes black.
The doctor lets out a long sigh, pulling his stethoscope from around his neck and fitting it into his ears before he listens to Pax’s chest.
Tears spill down my cheeks. Letting him go was the right thing—it was the only choice. It took his mother and me two months to make the decision, but I know in my heart it was the right one. Pax wouldn’t have wanted to spend the rest of his days lying in a hospital bed. He’d want to be free. He’d want to—
My thoughts are interrupted by the furrowing of the doctor’s brow. It deepens as he stands, turning back to the nurse. He motions at the heart rate machine.
Her own brows draw together, and she turns the machine back on.
Blip. Blip. Blip.
Someone gasps—it might be me.
“This…doesn’t make a lot of sense.” The doctor stands and turns to me. “He’s not breathing—”
Pax sucks in a large breath of air, sputtering for a moment before he begins to cough.
The doctor shakes his head, but he and the nurse go to work, raising the head of the bed and fitting an oxygen mask over his face.
Pax coughs again. His arms are waving wildly in front of him, almost as though he doesn’t remember how to use them correctly. He pushes the mask away with his forearm, shaking his head violently.
“Mr. Donovan—”
He coughs before he speaks, his voice so hoarse I wouldn’t recognize it if he wasn’t sitting in front of me. “Sophia?” He coughs again before he finally opens his eyes, glaring at the doctor. “Who the fuck are you? I need to see my wife.”
Pax
I don’t know where the fuck I am, but if I don’t see Sophia soon, I’m going to start throwing punches.
“Pax,” comes the sweetest sound I could ever hear. “Pax, I’m here.” Sophia squeezes my hand, leaning over me. There are tears in her eyes. She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Patrick, oh, Patrick.” That’s my mom, leaning over my other side. Why is she here? On that note, where the hell am I?
I blink a few times, trying to bring the rest of my surroundings into focus. There are lots of people here—my sisters, my bandmates, Mick.
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand. My voice is hoarse. Like I haven’t used it in ages.
I feel like I’ve been gone for ages. My head is fuzzy, my memories clouded.
“You’re in the hospital,” Sophia says. The tears are openly falling down her cheeks now.
It takes a couple tries to speak again, my voice is so raw. “What the hell happened?”
This time, it’s Mick who speaks. “Abby Ericks happened. She shot you.”
Suddenly, it all comes rushing back—the dingy hotel room, Abby at the door, the argument, the gunshot.
She was trying to kill Sophia. I look at my wife, searching for any sign of injury.
“The bullet only grazed me,” she says, turning her face. There’s a thin scar along her cheek, pointing toward her ear.
Graze or not, she was still hit—and the thought of how it could have been so much worse makes me suddenly murderous.
“Where the hell is Abby?” I demand. “She better fucking be behind bars this time.”
I notice a couple of people exchange glances. It’s Mick who answers.
“Unfortunately, the police have yet to find her,” Mick says. “But they’ll catch her. Sophia was able to identify her picture, and with her family breathing down local law enforcement’s necks, rest assured they won’t stop the hunt anytime soon.”
She’s still out there? It makes me sick to think about. If I ever see her again, I swear I’m going to—
“But there’s some good news, at least,” Mick adds. “Album sales are higher than they’ve ever been—your latest has been at the top of the charts since this news broke. And your last two albums are back in the top five.” He pats my foot. “I know it’s a small consolation, all things considered. But your fans have come out to show their full support. For the first week there were crowds of them outside the hospital, sending their well-wishes. And you’ve been sent hundreds upon hundreds of gifts—flowers, stuffed animals, balloons. It probably would’ve been more except the police asked people to stop. It was too risky—they would afraid Abby might come back to finish what she started.”
“But we’ve kept everything in a storage locker for you,” Rider says. “In case one day you decide you want three hundred partially deflated ‘Get Well Soon’ balloons.”
I can’t help it—I grin. It’s nice to know my entire world hasn’t fallen apart, even after something like this. I still have Sophia, I still have my career, and I still have my friends and family. That’s all I ever wanted. I look around the room, at all the smiling faces of my friends and family. There are tears—of happiness, I hope—streaming down Ma’s face. My sisters are all clutching each other’s hands. Even Mick looks emotional, his fatherly instincts coming out. Jameson and Rider look pleased to see me awake. It’s only Charlie whose expression seems odd—while he looks as happy to see me as everyone else, there’s an exhaustion in his eyes, a heaviness about his expression which is weird for him. He’s usually the one you can always count on for a grin.
But that reminds me of something else.
“What about the tour?” I ask. “What happened?”
“Postponed,” Mick says.
“For how long? How long was I out?” I have no idea what fucking day or month or even year it is. “What about the European tour? Can we still do that?”
“Easy, there,” Mick says gently. “We’ll figure all of that out later. Right now you need to focus on your recovery. Your fans will understand. And we’ll just have to make the new tour even bigger and better.”
“But—”
“Rest, now,” Mick says, patting my foot again. “It’ll all work out. One thing at a time.” He glances at my bandmates. “Maybe we should give him a little space.”
My band filters out, leaving my family, Sophia, and some people who I assume are doctors or nurses. They fiddle with some of the stuff strapped to me, try to explain what they’re doing and what happened to me, but honestly, it goes in one ear and out the other. This is too much to take in at once. And I’d rather spend the limited energy I have on my family and my wife. Part of me still thinks this might just be a bad dream.
But when I feel my mom’s and Sophia’s hands in mine, I know this is real. As real as the tears on Ma’s cheeks and the love in my wife’s eyes.
I’m a lucky bastard, having this many people who care about me.
Eventually, my sisters manage to drag Ma away, explaining to me that she hasn’t slept in several days. Sophia and I are alone in the room.
I can’t stop looking at her—at her beautiful eyes, her
luscious hair, her sweet smile. She’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.
“What?” she asks when she catches me staring.
“I just love you so much,” I tell her. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I love you, too.” Sadness flickers in her eyes. “When I thought I’d lost you I—”
“Oh,” comes a voice from the door. “Sorry, I thought you were alone, Pax.”
Charlie’s in the doorway to my room, looking like he doesn’t know what to say or do. And still looking oddly subdued.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, trying to put him at ease. “Come in.”
“Nah, that’s okay,” he says. “I’ll come back later.”
Something is definitely wrong—I can see it in his eyes.
“Come on, stay,” I say. “Something’s bothering you. Something more than just the fact that I got shot.” I force out a laugh—it hurts, but it seems to lighten the mood slightly. “You know you can tell me anything, Charlie. What is it? Are you afraid I’ll steal all your fangirls away because I’ve got a sexy scar now?”
“No, nothing like that.” He sighs, and then glances at Sophia. “I guess it’s now or never. And there’s no reason she shouldn’t hear this, too.”
I frown, worried again. Just what the hell is going on here?
He takes a couple of steps deeper into the room but stops several feet shy of the bed.
“Something’s been weighing on me,” he says without looking at me. “And when I heard you were shot… Fuck, I don’t know how to say this. It’s just that seeing your best friend on the brink of death has a way of making you see what a shithead you are. It’s been eating me up inside.”
I’m still confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He looks more miserable than I’ve ever seen him. “You know that sex tape with you and Sophia? It was me. I leaked it.”
Sophia
The silence in the room is almost deafening.
Pax stares at his bandmate for a long moment, blinking at him a few times. “What?”
Charlie rakes a hand through his hair. “I really needed this to work, you know? This tour…this album. I needed this to be it.”
“You…” Pax shakes his head. “You needed it to work? Who the fuck are you?”
“You’re no better than the rest of us, Pax. You think just because you sing lead…” Charlie rubs at his jaw. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought…no one ever got hurt by a sex tape. Look at all the idiots who’ve become famous because of a stupid sex tape. I figured if we could get one of you out there, it would be the thing that would make us pop.”
Pax’s hands are balled into fists, and he sits up in the bed. His gaze narrows. “You piece of—”
“And it was Mick’s idea.” Charlie gulps. “I mean, he’s the one who put it out there. Remember a few months ago at dinner? He said we needed something—anything—to get the ticket sales moving. And then he said something about how we really needed something like a sex tape.”
Something about the way Pax shifts in his bed tells me he’s about to attack the other man. I place a hand on his shoulder, still looking over at Charlie. “My family—and the police—have been trying to find the perpetrator for months. How did you…?” I shake my head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Charlie lets out a nervous laugh. “I met this guy… He said he knew how to hack a webcam and make it untraceable. I have no fucking clue how he did it.” He shrugs. “I snuck your computer out of your apartment one day and got it back in before you noticed.”
Pax continues to glare at Charlie. “Why’d you wait?”
Charlie’s brow furrows. “Wait? What do you mean?”
Pax cocks his head in my direction. “For her. Why’d you wait until I slept with Sophia to put it out there?” He almost growls his words. “Why’d you wait until I was with the one woman who actually mattered?”
Charlie’s cheeks stain a deep shade of red. “I…I don’t know. I was pretty nervous about doing it at all. But then when you hooked up with her…” He glances over at me. “It was too good to pass up. And it worked out, right? We got the ticket sales we were after, the album sales have been awesome. And you two survived it.” He nods, though he still looks like he’s about to vomit. “Married, no less.”
Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. Pax leaps from the bed in a single, fluid motion, jumping on top of Charlie. His IV tears from his arm, splattering blood over the sheets. The heart monitor lines tear away from his chest, flying into the air. Some piece of machinery crashes to the floor after clanging against the metal bedside table.
Pax takes the man by the neck, squeezing it as he pounds his head against the floor. “I’m going to kill you, asshole. I’m going to kill you.”
Pax
I can’t believe it. After everything we’ve been through together, after years of working side by side, living through the good and the bad, Charlie of all people betrays me? Charlie?
I’m seeing red. And I don’t even realize what I’m doing until hands clamp around my arms.
“That’s enough, Pax,” Mick says. “You trying to kill yourself? Get back on the damn bed.” I don’t know where he came from, but he got in here fast.
I sit up, still barely breathing. Mick is trying to haul me up to my feet, while beneath me, Charlie groans. I let my manager drag me back over to the bed. Two nurses are at my bedside in an instant, hooking me back up to everything again. I scan the room for Sophia and spot her in the corner, looking back and forth between Charlie and me as if she’s afraid of both of us.
Charlie is still on the floor. Mick bends over him and helps pull him back upright again, and Charlie groans and rubs his head.
“What the hell happened in here?” Mick demands.
“Ask Charlie,” I say. “He’s the one who leaked the sex tape of Sophia and me.” My eyes flick back to my manager. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
Mick sighs. “I’ll admit, I did wonder if it was an inside job, but I didn’t think any of you were that much of an idiot.” He’s still gripping Charlie, and he yanks my bandmate around to look him in the eyes. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Charlie is wobbly on his feet. “You were the one who said we needed a sex tape scandal…”
“I was hoping one of you would step up and create a little buzz yourself. I was not encouraging you to fuck with each other.” He gives Charlie a shake. “What was the first damn thing I told you when I took you on as clients?”
Charlie looks like he might be sick. “You said we were a team…”
“And that we had to have each other’s backs. All five of us. Remember that? This industry will eat you alive if you let it. We’re stronger if we face is together. We’re closer than a team—we’re family. We make decisions together. We trust each other with everything. All four of you agreed to that. Or have you forgotten?”
Charlie looks miserable. “Why do you think I even said anything?” I’m not sure whether he’s talking to Mick or me. “I leaked the tape for us, for all of us. And I could’ve gone on forever without saying anything and none of you would’ve been any the wiser. But it’s been eating me up inside.” He turns and looks me in the eyes. “I mean it, Pax. I honestly thought you’d think it was some big joke. Or that you’d see our sales go up and you’d be grateful for it. If I’d known you’d get so upset I never would’ve done it, not even for the publicity.”
His pathetic, ‘sad puppy’ shit isn’t going to work on me. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
“Come on,” Mick says, turning Charlie toward the door. “Let’s go get your head checked out. After that you and I are going to have a nice, long chat.” He pauses at the door and looks back at me. “I know the two of you have some shit to work out, Pax, but right now you need to focus on getting some rest and getting better. None of this shit matters if you die on us.”
Die. It’s probably the only w
ord he could have said to knock my anger away, if only for a moment. I collapse back on the pillows and let the nurse finish sticking the IV back in my arm.
I’m not ready to die. But I’m sure as hell not ready to deal with this shit, either.
Sophia comes back to my bedside. “Are you okay?” she says.
I look up into her sweet face. “You’re asking me that? Are you okay?”
“You’re the one in the hospital bed,” she points out. “And you’re the one who just found out his friend betrayed him.” She lowers herself into the chair again.
“I was never worried about myself when it came to the sex tape,” I say. “It was always about you. Look at what it did—look at how much it upset your family.”
“They’ll get over it,” Sophia says. “It’s practically forgotten.”
“Is it really? Or will your family always judge you a little for it?” I shake my head. “Fuck, Sophia. I’d let Charlie release a dozen sex tapes of me if he could take back the one with you in it.”
A hint of a smile creeps over her lips. “Honestly, I’d rather you didn’t. I’m not sure I want to see videos of you having sex with other women.”
“No?” I smile. “You jealous?” The last nurse has left the room again, leaving Sophia and me alone.
“I never thought I was the jealous type,” she says. “But I guess I was wrong. I don’t like thinking of you with anyone else.”
I lace her fingers through mine, my eyes searching her face. She looks exhausted—how many hours has she sat by my bedside, waiting for me to wake up? But there’s still a bit of lightness there, a bit of the sweet, adventurous, wild woman I fell in love with.
“I saw her, you know,” I say. “When I was…” What was I, exactly? It felt too deep, too bottomless to be sleep. And if I was dead, then there’s no way I’d be sitting here talking to Sophia right now. “When I was gone.”
“Who?” she asks. “Abby?”
“Well…yes, I guess I did see Abby. But that’s not who I was talking about. I saw Kayla.”
