What’d the upstanding members of their small town think of that?
Without Sam and Jase in his life, he wouldn’t have survived the spurning of his family.
“I wanted to issue my condolences for—”
“He’s. Not. Dead. Mother.”
“—Jase’s predicament.” Her voice shook on the final word. He felt Sam tense briefly in his arms, before going lax once more. “That came out wrong. I… I just wanted you to know we’re praying for him.”
“Thanks,” he clipped the single word out, even though a dozen questions swirled in his head. Why’d she bother? Why now? If they’d followed a single newsfeed or report—the onstage orgasms they’d fed to the crowd with willing fan participation should’ve shocked his mother’s delicate sensibilities straight into a stroke or mild heart attack. Those demonstrations alone should’ve been enough to showcase the depth of the entire band’s depravity. He could name at least once Derr and Keys had taken turns going down on a woman while Heath held the microphone to her mouth for the crowd to hear each moan and groan until she climaxed. And at that pinnacle moment, the audience had erupted with her.
They were above salvation. His family prayed sinners were shown the errors of their way, not for divine assistance in deathly situations. Heath didn’t want or need their prayers. He wanted their acceptance.
“Is Samantha dealing with the crisis well?”
What’d she care? “The best that can be expected.”
“If y’all need anything—”
“Oh, goddamn, Mother.” In his mind’s eye he predicted she recoiled at his profanity. Good. He wanted to blaspheme her delicate sensibilities and her hypocritical ways. “We both know you don’t give a shit. Didn’t care six years ago and haven’t cared in all that time since to initiate contact. I can only assume you want something now.”
Sam sat up and ran her fingertips along his jaw. She gave him a breathy kiss as she removed the cell from his grasp and pressed it to her ear. He’d saved her from making an ass of herself yesterday with the intruder, now it seemed she planned to return the favor.
“Mrs. Fangor, this is Samantha Collins. It’s Christianly of you to call and check on Jase.”
Christianly? Ha! His mother didn’t know the true meaning of the word.
“Yes…well, we’re hoping for the best.” Her gaze shot to Jase, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment. “Thank you. I appreciate it. He needs all the prayers he can get.” A slight pause, and her focus refastened on Heath. “Actually it’s the other way around. Heath is good for me.” Ah… so his family had read the reports of his and Sam’s relationship. “I will tell him. Thank you again.”
She disconnected the call and offered him his cell. All he wanted to do was chew his mother’s head off. Sam worked her like she did the fans. Polite and professional.
“She thinks I’m good for you. I set her straight.” She snuggled against him face first. In this position it wouldn’t take much to wiggle his hand between her legs. He could have her purring for him in no time. The beep of the monitors culled his desire.
He wouldn’t ask what she was supposed to tell him, and she didn’t volunteer the information. Respecting her ability to utilize discretion when required, he tipped her head back with fingers beneath her chin and kissed her forehead. “You are good for me, brat.”
“We’re perfect for each other.”
“Goddamn, can’t a dying man be spared the lovey-dovey bullshit?”
“Jase!” Sam squealed and hurled off the chair, her elbow using his gut as a launching pad.
Heath oomphed but was on his feet a moment later, crowding her space from behind and grinning like a fool.
Voice scratchy, he whispered, “Don’t cry, baby sister.” He tried to move his left arm wrapped in the air cast but winced and grabbed her hand with his right one instead.
“I was so scared for you, Jase.” Emotion wobbled her voice, and she didn’t even attempt to stop her tears of joy. “Don’t you ever do that to me again or I’ll kill you myself.”
Heath wrapped his arm around her and pulled her snug against his chest. “You scared us all.”
“Feels like someone came close to killing me. What happened?”
“You don’t remember? We should get the doctor, Heath.”
Heath wasn’t leaving, so he texted Tex one-handed: get doc Jase awake.
“Last thing I remember,” Jase cleared his throat, but it didn’t improve his scratchy tenor. “Is a car running the red light and slamming into the driver side door. Hurt like a motherfucker for a few minutes, never has my head hurt like that before. I blacked out.”
“You’ve been in a coma for two days.” Sam squeezed his fingers. “Swelling on the brain, broke your arm in three places—it still needs surgery, but I wouldn’t let those shady bastards touch you until we got a professional to look at it. Keys’ dad and Omega has found a Mayo clinic that’s going to take you tomorrow.” Jase tried to shift, but froze on a pained grunt. “Don’t move. You have two broken ribs, lots of cuts and bruising. I’m afraid you’re not nearly as handsome as you once were.”
“I hear chicks dig scars.”
Sam laughed. “I have hope for your recovery if you’ve got it in you to crack jokes.”
The doctor and a flock of nurses joined them and shooed them out of the way. He and Sam huddled together out of the way, hugging one another, neither able to tear their gaze off Jase.
“My personal opinion… the accident improved your ugly mug,” Keys said deadpan, motioning to Jase’s head. “Hopefully it knocked some sense into you too. Consider yourself lucky you might get laid more than me now because of it.”
Jase’s chuckle was aborted mid-way through.
“You bastard.” He coughed and wheezed from the pain. “It hurts to laugh.”
“My job is complete.” All humor gone, seriousness shadowed the New York heir’s features. His father’s influence, along with Omega Starr’s, had gotten Jase transferred to a new facility four days ago. The best surgeon in the field micromanaged the injury to his left arm, and the best doctors in the world monitored everything else. What mattered… he’d be drumming again in no time. And the tour could resume. “You gave Sam a fright. She worried you wouldn’t pull through so you two could put your argument behind you. She blamed herself for your accident. That pisses me off. You’re to blame for your shitty actions not her.”
At odds with his only surviving family member wasn’t the most ideal time to engage in a life threatening accident, but Keys made it seem as if he’d had a choice. Derringer made a point in letting him know Sam had beaten herself up over that very same thing as well. And she’d never left his side, had given the doctor hell, and watched out for him when a fan had sneaked past security.
Hot Wired’s motley crew of misfits always guarded his baby sister. Just the way he liked it.
“I wasn’t driving recklessly, and I didn’t comp a vehicle because of my disagreement with Sam and Fang.” He clutched at his ribs. The aches reminded him what he’d survived and how short life could be. Also reminded him how important Sam and Fang were to him. “The piece of ass I’d had the night before was on my mind or I would’ve probably avoided the collision.”
“Yeah?” Keys came away from the wall he leaned against, his eyes going bright at this new piece of info. “That good, huh?”
Good? No. She’d been the best in a virtuous manner, but hardly knowledgeable. Who knew he’d get off on claiming the territory no other man had known?
“I don’t know her name. Think you can find out for me?” Once he had that information he could get his attorney to track her down.
Keys angled his head and considered him. “That’s some high quality pussy.”
Jase grimaced over the description, which made no sense. Any other time he’d have agreed or referred to her in the same derogatory manner. As far as options went, changing the subject was the most prudent recourse. “For the record, Sam and I ma
de amends.”
Blond eyebrows spiked upward in a clear sign of suspicion. “You give Sam and Fang your blessing?”
On the tip of his tongue was to tell him to mind his own business. The trouble with their close-knit relationship meant they often butted their nose in where it didn’t belong. And he loved them all the more for it.
He’d watched Fang and Sam since he’d come out of his coma. His best friend doted on his baby sister like she was a prize catch. And she was. Goddamn it, she was better than the entire lot of them. No one would ever be good enough for her.
Jase jammed his fingers through his hair and winced when they skimmed the knot on his head. “Saying nothing is blessing enough.”
“Hmm….” The man had a way of calling bullshit without uttering a word. Sometimes Jase wanted to pound on him with his sticks… or his fists.
“Look, giving them a verbal blessing is like giving Fang permission to fuck my sister. That’ll never be cool.” Not that Sam shouldn’t enjoy sex or even have it, but Fang wasn’t up to par for the standards Jase set for her. But then he reminded himself no one ever would be.
“Right…nothing double standard about that logic. We can enjoy sweet pussy, but not Fang?” Keys made a gagging motion. “Forget I said that. Pardon me while I find some bleach to rinse my mouth out with.”
Jase just barely managed to check the chuckle. “Glad to know someone else is feeling my disgust.” Admitting he was wrong about their relationship was a bitter pill to swallow, but asking him to give his consent—not like they truly needed it—that might be more than he could give. Goddamn his fucking pride! He exhaled and gazed out the window, the high-rise buildings surrounding the facility noted but not in focus. “I know she’s not a virgin, but I know the things Fang likes. I don’t want to think about them doing—”
“Then don’t.” His focus shifted to the lead guitarist. “Do not go there, man. What they do together in private is their business.”
“They’re consenting adults.” Derr busted into the scene bearing forbidden fruit. “I hope. Who are we talking about?” He offered Keys a beer and placed a juice box on Jase’s rolling table. “Apple juice for the invalid.”
“Fang and Sam.” Keys broke the seal and swigged. “Ah! That hit the spot,” he bragged about his beverage and wiped his mouth with his palm.
“You two are the worst fucking friends!” What he wouldn’t do for a cold one at the moment. To express his displeasure, he chucked the juice box at Derringer’s head. Missing wide of his mark, he regretted the sulky display when his ribs protested the abrupt movement.
“Now…now….” Keys pat him on the head like he would a puppy, and Jase breathed through the pain cursing them both in his head. “Liquor and pain meds don’t mix, little drummer-boy.”
Jase swatted his touch aside. “You’re an asshole.”
“Sounds like the only company I keep.” Derr tipped his drink to his mouth.
With one finger wrapped around the glass neck, Keys swirled his bottle. “I’d say you get the Pulitzer prize for being an ass.”
“You’re like a woman that won’t quit her bitching.”
Derringer peered between them. “I think I’m mostly caught up.” Jase had no idea how since neither took the time to explain their conversation. “I repeat… they’re both consenting adults. What’s between them, it’s not what my mom and pop had. Nope. They have the forever kind of shit.”
Keys knocked bottles with Derringer as if he toasted to that, but it was Jase he scrutinized. “He’s right. You and I have seen long-term relationships. My parents and yours. You can’t deny them that.”
“I don’t want to deny them anything.” He dropped his head back against the pillows, and regretted the movement when his skull protested with brain-numbing pounding. Best he figured, he’d remember his injuries and gauge his movements about the time he started getting better. “Their relationship changes everything.”
“That little drummer-boy makes you a selfish bastard.”
The biggest selfish bastard in known history in his opinion, and he despised himself for the weakness. “Don’t call me ‘little drummer-boy’.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want for two reasons.” Keys held up a finger. “You’re too weak to stop me. And two”—he added a second finger to the first—“my dad’s influence helped get you this plush crib.”
He closed his eyes. What’d he do to deserve Keys’ blunt candor? He’d like to pretend if he ignored the situation, it’d resolve itself and… “Go. Away.”
“He needs his sleep,” Derr said in a stage whisper.
“I hear convalescents and old people sleep a lot.” When Jase didn’t rise to their baiting, he heard their footsteps retreat. “Oh, and Jase?” He opened a single eye to let Keys know he had his attention. “The nurse digs you.”
Which nurse? Not that it mattered. He wasn’t interested. “Thanks for the info.”
The only woman he had an itch for was the one who got away.
Jason Collins spent the next hour pretending sleep while contemplating his sister and best friend. The dynamics of their relationship baffled and intrigued him. And he’d be less than honest if he didn’t admit he was a tad envious of their romance. The way Sam gazed at Fang, with adoration and love. Even knowing all his faults, she accepted him, wanted him and not the man the press or stage presented. If Jase were lucky someone would feel the same way about him one day, but he wouldn’t be foolish enough to hold his breath.
Fang respected his sister, took care of her when she didn’t bother herself with her welfare. As her brother he required a man that would protect her, put her needs first, and he could already tell she had that with Fang. His best friend. Who would’ve ever guessed those two would hook up? Certainly not him. That they could have a romance with one another had never crossed his mind. And he’d never seen either of them happier.
I can adjust. He owed it to the both of them to honor their decision.
His hospital door opened and balloons burst through, reaching toward the ceiling and floating in helter-skelter fashion. A couple of them said, “Get Well Soon”. A pinup girl was on one and big tits on another, gaudy inflatables that teased a chuckle from him. All were attached via strings to a stuffed electronic monkey that rocked its head from side to side as it banged on a set of mini-drums. Sam carried the arrangement wearing a wide grin. Fang followed her, taking special care that all the balloons were inside the room before shutting the door.
At what felt like a snail’s pace, Jase elevated his right arm and anchored his wrist behind his head. It stretched and pulled at his broken ribs, but if he didn’t push his limits he feared he’d never get out of this fucking bed. He hated feeling like an invalid.
“Thanks.” He returned her grin as she settled the gift on his table.
Fang leaned against the wall at the foot of Jase’s bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sam’s style of a pick-me-up. I told her getting laid would improve your grouchiness.”
“I think getting out of this hospital will help the best.” He studied his friend, but couldn’t get a clear read on his thoughts. “I’m fine, sis.”
“You almost died. Be gracious, and allow me to pamper you,” Sam said, giving him the maternal-eye.
Unable to take any more of the stretch and burn he lowered his arm and rested his hand on his abdomen. Much better and easier to breathe. “How is a man supposed to surrender to that request and still keep his man card?”
“Resistance is futile. Save yourself the embarrassment and give up your man card.” Fang made a come-here motion with his hand.
“Haha….” Sam rolled her eyes. “You know you like the attention, Jase. And Heath, you’re jealous I’m not pampering you.”
Just in time he caught the fiery look Fang settled on his sister before he turned his head aside to stare out the window. A substantial breath inflated his chest before he released the air through his teeth with a soft hiss.
“Sam, sto
p.” He caught her hand. “I’m fine, I don’t need your care. Not right now. I’m good.” He squeezed her hand, and she nodded, pulled away from him. “But your man does require your attention.”
Her shocked gape locked on his, and he nodded toward Fang. Mouth parting as if she’d say something, not a single syllable surfaced. He kept his focus on Sam, but suspected he had garnered Fang’s attention also.
Jase kissed the back of her knuckles. “I love you. I thank God for you and have no idea what I’d do without you. I adore your devotion to me. I really do. Don’t stop. I will require pampering later—even if that means I have to give up my man card. But right now someone else needs you more.”
She licked her lips and tossed his best friend a cagey glance. In that moment, he’d have given anything to know what she was thinking. He scrutinized Fang, who stared at his sister, waiting for her to make her decision.
“You’re okay with us being together?”
“I want you to be happy. It’s obvious Fang makes you happy.” He squeezed her fingers again. “I was an ass. Forgive me?”
Before she could say anything, Fang asked, “You were an ass about what?”
Leave it to his best buddy to demand a specific apology. Asshole. But Sam probably needed to hear it. “I was an ass for rejecting your relationship, for not giving y’all the benefit of the doubt, and most of all for being selfish and wanting to keep you both to myself. I could excuse my behavior by saying I was being overprotective, but that’s only the partial truth. The truth is I didn’t want to deal with changing my life to make yours happier. I saw it as an inconvenience, and I am sorry for my behavior. I was wrong.”
His former playmate shrugged. “I forgive you.”
“Wasn’t asking for your forgiveness. Appreciated Fang, but I need Sam’s.”
Rockin' the Heart (Hot Wired) Page 25
