“And?”
“It’s been so…quiet. Inside.” I tap my chest. “I feel a whole lot of nothing. Whatever magic propels me to create has vanished. I’m scared it’s gone for good.” I finish on a whisper, terrified to confess my growing fear. “And it’ll never come back.”
“Come here.” He hugs me against his body. “A lot has happened in a short amount of time. You need to recover. It’ll return when you’re ready.”
“But I don’t have time to wallow. Dawson’s gotta be losing a fortune canceling those dates.”
“He didn’t just cancel because of you. The fire on the bus was worse than I realized. Two of his people got injured too, so—”
“Jeepers.” I frown at him. “Anything else I don’t know?”
“I found that out myself last night.” He holds up his hands. “Don’t feel pressured to get back to it if you’re not ready.”
“Yeah, but his bus got ruined because of me. His crew got hurt because of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he kicks me off the dang tour for bringing so much trouble.”
“Uh, I blame Martin Suggs, Glenna Wilson, and the lack of proper security at the venue for the fire. And I’m pretty sure Dawson feels the same way.” His expression turns feral. “And if he doesn’t, I’m happy to persuade him.”
“Easy, killer.”
He grins at me.
A little laughter bubbles up.
“That’s better.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose.
“You know what?” I slap the comforter with my open palm. “I would like to go to rehearsal. Even if I just sit there like a stump.”
“That’s my girl.”
I throw back the covers and roll out of bed, then waddle my way to the bathroom. “Be right back.”
Everything hurts but I take care of my morning business and almost feel human after brushing my teeth.
Rooster’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I return.
“My mom’s planning to fly back to Texas this afternoon, right?”
He sets his phone down and glances at me. “That’s what she said. You want to have some mother-daughter bonding time?” he asks. “Just the two of you?”
“Uh, no.” I rest my hands on my hips. “She needs to accept you in my life. End of story.”
He stands, closes the distance between us, and cups my cheeks with his big hands. “I love you for saying that. I do. But she’s coming around.” His mouth twitches into a smile. “Slowly. I’m gonna see you every day for the next few weeks. You two should spend some time together without me in the way.”
“You’re not in the way. Don’t say that.”
His lips twitch. “I need to take care of a few things. But I’ll be back in time to go to the airport with you. How’s that?”
“Better.” I wrap my arms around him, hugging tight and not letting go.
Things will get better, right? I survived something awful but this bad mood has its teeth in me. I can’t stop thinking if it hadn’t been for Rooster’s relentless determination to find me, I might still be at the mercy of Suggs. Gratitude should color my every thought—and it does, to an extent.
Fear, anger, and anxiety won’t quit crawling around inside me though either.
Chapter Twenty
Shelby
Once we’re both dressed, Rooster leads me a few doors down from our room and knocks.
My mom opens the door wide and wraps me in a big, warm hug. “How you feelin’ this morning, baby?”
“A lot better.” At least that’s mostly true.
She grabs her purse and follows me to the elevator.
“You know where we’re going?” I ask Rooster as he punches the ‘down’ button.
“Rehearsal’s the same room we had dinner in last night,” my mom says.
“Glad someone has a clue.” I laugh and shake my head. Get it together, Shelby.
The hotel’s quiet at this hour. We don’t pass many people, but the few we see offer warm greetings.
Now that Rooster’s told me my story’s been all over the news, I’m twitchy if anyone looks at me for longer than two seconds.
I blow out a sigh of relief when we arrive downstairs.
“Dawson said the hotel was in between events this week, and that’s how he was able to get the conference rooms on this floor reserved,” my mother says. “Otherwise, y’all woulda been SOL.”
“That’s…good.” I guess.
Some of Rooster’s club brothers are waiting outside the conference room and nod hello.
Jigsaw saunters over to my mother, a primal smile fixed on his face. “Morning, Ms. Morgan. You’re looking lovely today.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Rooster mutters at the ceiling.
“Good morning, Jensen. Nice to see ya again.” My mother seems…flustered? I don’t know. Whatever’s happening here ain’t right.
Before I have time to ponder it, Jigsaw’s hand lands on my shoulder. “How ya feeling, little songbird? Glad you’re out of the hospital?”
“Oh, yeah. I slept much better last night.” Didn’t even have any nightmares. I’ll need to jot that down in the ‘improvements’ column of today’s checklist.
He flicks a sly glance at Rooster. “I’m sure you did.”
My cheeks heat. That hadn’t crossed my mind at all last night or this morning. Guess I’ll have to mark that down in my ‘still broken’ column.
“Shut up.” Rooster shoves Jigsaw. “You coming with me or not?”
“Sure,” he answers smoothly.
Rooster takes my arm, pulling me aside. “I won’t be gone long. Wrath and Murphy will be here—”
“That’s really not necessary.”
He stares down at me. Obviously, this isn’t optional. “Trinity and Heidi wanted to watch the rehearsal if that’s okay.”
Sure, make it seem like a social call. “Yeah. Not sure how much rehearsing they’re gonna see.” I wiggle my stiff fingers. No magic. Nothing.
He takes my hand, bringing it to his lips to brush a kiss over my knuckles. “You’ll get there. Give it time,” he assures me in a low voice not meant for anyone else to hear.
He jerks his head and Jigsaw says goodbye. The two of them wait for us to go into the room before pressing the button for the elevator.
Greg’s the only one here so far and he’s vibrating with excitement when his gaze lands on me. He rushes over, hands out in front of him, an excited manager personified.
“I have the most amazing news,” he says in a rush, not wasting time with greetings. “All sorts of offers are coming in, Shelby. The silver lining of this whole mess is starting to sparkle.”
Starting to sparkle? “Maybe you should dial down the coffee consumption, Greg.”
“Shelby.” My mother elbows me, then shines a sunny smile on Greg. “What kind of offers?”
“Interviews, endorsements, and a lot of other things we’ll sort through.”
“Wow.” I press my hand to my chest. “I assume some of those interviews are people who want ugly details?”
Greg gnaws on his bottom lip for a second. Too bad if he doesn’t appreciate the question. I have no intention of allowing anyone to exploit every creepy and grotesque moment of my ordeal so the general public can get their jollies at my expense. No way. I won’t relive the most terrifying moments of my life over and over to boost my career.
“We’ll vet the offers carefully, Shelby. I won’t advise you to accept any if we don’t think they’ll be respectful.”
Yeah, sure. I’ve heard that before. “I’ll tell you right now, any shock jocks can go take a suck.”
He flashes a tight smile. “Noted.”
“Morning, Shelby.” Even though I recognize Trent’s voice, I jump about a mile when his hand lands on my shoulder.
“Jesus,” I yelp.
“Nope, just me,” he teases, not questioning my overreaction.
“You guys have the space until eleven,” Greg says. “You sure you’re ready for this, Shelby?”
“Do I have a choice?”
His mouth works, like he’s trying to form an answer that won’t piss me off. I am being pretty awful this morning. I can’t seem to help it, though.
“Come on.” Trent takes my arm. “I have something I want to play for you.”
“All right.” I follow him to the small, raised platform. Kenny and Abram meet us, dishing out hugs and kind words. My bass player and drummer aren’t usually so touchy-feely and their effusive greetings further unbalance me.
Abram has his sticks but no one bothered to bring his drum kit inside. Interesting rehearsal this will be.
Trent strums three chords in D minor.
“Kinda melancholy.” It’s not the most popular chord to write songs in. Definitely not in country music. It matches my mood, though.
“Something I was playing with…while you were…gone.” His earnest emotion tugs at me. We’ve known each other a long time.
I reach over and press my hand to his. “You know you’ll never get rid of me.”
He lifts his gaze, staring at me long enough that I twitch, regretting the attempt at a joke. “Your man knew what to do right away. I hesitated. He didn’t. Went after that van like wildfire.”
I’m not exactly sure what he’s trying to tell me but I sense guilt of some sort. “I’m glad you didn’t. I’d be upset if you got hurt.”
He cringes and looks down.
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
Maybe I’m not ready to hear what he’s trying to tell me.
He strums the same three chords, then moves on to a chord progression in C major. After a few notes, I recognize one of my favorite Carly Simon songs. I’ve sung You’re So Vain a million times. Know the words by heart. Normally, I’d jump right in.
But I’ve got nothing today.
“I know it’s been covered a bunch of times, but you could really do this justice,” Trent says as the last note fades.
“Nothing will ever top Faster Pussycat’s version.”
He snort-laughs. This has been a frequent argument of ours for years. The bit of normalcy feels like an inside-out sweater today.
I reach out and flick his hair. “What’s with the baby manbun?”
He cups the back of his head. “What’re you talking about? This is in. The chicks have been digging it.”
“Yeah? You get lucky in Virginia?”
“A gentleman doesn’t tell.”
I glance around. “I don’t see any here.”
“We rehearsing or not?” Kenny shouts.
I cough and rub my throat. “I’m still…my voice is pretty raw. You guys go ahead. I’ll listen in.”
It’s only a tiny white lie. My voice isn’t raw—it’s gone. Along with my muse. All I can picture is opening my mouth and nothing coming out. Not sure how I’m supposed to go back on the road like this.
My mom brings me a cup of tea and a packet of honey. “See if that helps, baby.”
“Thanks.” My eyes well up and I will away the tears before anyone notices.
Damn, this sucks. My mood’s all over the place this morning. One horrible event seems to have turned me into different people trying to co-exist inside the same skin. I hate it. Hate this timid girl who jumps at her shadow. Hate the emptiness inside me.
Most of all, I hate the missing music.
Chapter Twenty-One
Shelby
“Well, that was pointless.” I sigh and drop into a chair outside the hotel’s coffee shop upstairs.
“The band sounds good. Trent’s grown up an awful lot. He looks so professional now.” My mother sips her coffee and wrinkles her nose, reaching for another packet of sugar. “How do you feel?”
Scared. Out of body. Like I’ve aged ten years in the last few days. “Okay.”
She stretches over the table and brushes my hair from my shoulder. “Your hair’s getting so long. I wish you had more people attending to you on the road.”
I tug at the ends of my hair, still wavy from braiding it last night. “I like it. Besides, it’s all mine. I’d hate having to stick extensions and stuff in every night.”
“Well, I hope you’re using a good heat-protecting spray or something on it,” she says, still studying me.
“I use whatever Cindy has and try avoid heat on my days off.”
“Good.”
“Is my hair really what you want to talk about before you go home?”
She shifts her gaze from my hair to my face. “I’m just disappointed. I always thought things would be more, I don’t know…glamorous for you out on the road. That you’d be traveling with rolling racks of fabulous wardrobes, have a large entourage, a bus with your face—”
My whole world tilts on its axis. This is the last damn conversation I want to have after my bust of a rehearsal. Momma chose the wrong day to unravel this particular ball of yarn. “Nothing I do will ever be good enough for you, will it?”
“That’s not what I meant at all, honey.”
The hell it isn’t. “Not many artists tour that way these days. I’m still so new to the business. But I’m doing what I love. Can’t that be enough?”
“I want the best of everything for you.”
I’m sure she believes that, so I let it go.
“I like Trinity. I think it’ll be good for you to have a female friend of sorts on the road with you.”
“Yeah, and her husband’s hella scary, so hopefully his presence keeps the wackos at bay.”
Her mouth twists with worry. Shoot, maybe I shouldn’t have brought that up right before she leaves. But hell, the whole reason we’re even sitting here is because of the kidnapping…abduction? I’m hardly a kid, so kidnapping feels weird. Goddamn, I wish I’d kicked that bastard in the balls while I had the chance.
“I am glad Rooster and some of his brothers will be protecting you the rest of the tour,” she says.
I have to pick my jaw up off the table.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She huffs and fixes her blouse. “I still think you’re too young to settle down.”
“I’m hardly ‘settling down.’” I’ve thought long and hard about how to approach what I want to say. Now or never. I reach over and rest my hand against hers. “I know how much Dad hurt you when he left—”
“Oh, screw that man to hell and back.” Her eyes are practically spitting sparks. “I don’t care about him walking out on me.”
The table jiggles and I tilt my head to the side. My mother’s bouncing her leg so fast she’s about to launch herself into the sky.
“Maybe I should’ve told you this when you were younger.” Her words are soft and hesitant now, but that leg of hers is still jumping a mile a minute.
“Told me what?”
Her throat works as she struggles for words and breath. That can only mean she’s about to mention my sister. Which makes sense. Hayley and my father’s departure are so deeply and painfully intertwined in our family history.
“Your father and I…even if Hayley hadn’t…we would’ve split up.”
I piece together her fragmented sentences. “Really?”
“His reaction…the way he handled Hayley’s diagnosis…shredded me. Some couples, a tragedy reveals who each person is at their core. Their strengths complement one another and bond them together. Or it exposes their weaknesses and breaks them apart.”
“I remember you fighting a lot,” I whisper. “Now I can see it was a tremendous amount of pressure for both of you to be under.”
“Our finances made it worse, but that wasn’t all of it. Instead of being stronger together, we turned on each other. He wanted me to work more so we weren’t so broke but I couldn’t not take care of Hayley. Be with her. It was an impossible choice.” Her eyes shimmer with tears. “Well, not impossible. I would’ve moved into our car rather than leave my baby girl alone in the hospital.”
My throat tightens and tears blur my vision.
“We still had you, so maybe that was irresponsible on my p
art,” she says. “Neither of us were wrong, I guess…”
I sure think one of them had it backwards. “I wasn’t neglected,” I whisper. “And I never resented the time spent with Hayley. I wanted—” My voice breaks. “I wanted to be with her as much as possible. I would’ve hated it if you were working instead of at the hospital with her.”
“Thank you, Shelby. It means a lot to hear that,” she says softly, as if my simple admission lifted a weight off her shoulders.
“Anyway, I don’t hate your father for leaving me. I hate him for leaving you. You’d already lost your sister. Losing your father too…I can never forgive him for that.”
“Do you…do you think something happened to him?” The little girl in me always wonders if maybe my father died and that’s why he never contacted me again.
“No.” She kills that theory with one word. “I tracked him down once. Begged him to see you. At least spend time with you. But he refused. I never told you because…”
“I understand.” It doesn’t feel good to hear that now; I can’t imagine how a younger, more vulnerable me would’ve swallowed the rejection.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted to tell you that.”
“I’d rather know.” As much as it hurts, I prefer living with the truth than constantly wondering.
“You were such a joy, Shelby. In the darkest part of my life, you kept me going. I’m sorry if that put a burden on you. It broke my heart that he left. I couldn’t understand how he chose to miss out on your life. Maybe that’s why I worked extra hard to be so involved in everything you did. To make up for what you’d lost.” She reaches over and cups my cheek. “I’m proud to be your momma. Watching you grow up and become the woman you are is the best thing I’ve ever done. He’s a fool for missin’ out on it.”
My throat’s so tight, I barely choke out a “thank you.”
She sighs and delicately wipes a finger under her lashes. “That’s enough emotional talk. I don’t want a stuffed-up head on the plane.”
Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17) Page 16
