by Lucy Lennox
Kevin continued to tell me about his family while he drove us back to my house. At some point he turned on the radio and I dozed off listening to the familiar sounds of country music classics.
When it was time to fly to Nashville, I was as ready as I’d ever be. I boarded the chartered jet with Kevin in front of me when he turned back to tell me something.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you that Derek isn’t coming. Joel has him working on something else, so he wanted me to tell you he was sorry to miss it. His dad and brothers will still be there, but Ollie will take care of them and make sure they have everything they need.”
My heart dropped, and I was torn between feeling relieved and disappointed. So that was that, then. No more Derek.
Instead of singing in the Super Bowl show, I wanted to go back to my bed and hide under the duvet for the next several months. Or as long as it would take my shredded heart to find some way of patching itself back together again.
I found a seat and dropped into it. Ollie boarded a few minutes later and took the seat next to mine. For the first time in a year, it was Ollie’s shoulder I slept on instead of Derek’s.
The first few days of practice were grueling. The show producers had rented an enormous warehouse that gave us an area equivalent to the halftime stage we would use. The rehearsal space had already been used for the last few weeks by the hordes of accompanying dancers. Since our band would pretty much stay in one place on the stage to do our performance, we just needed to get some timing and movements right to make sure we were all in sync. Sounded easy, but it turned out to be anything but. It was Thursday before we finally moved everything to the stadium.
Entering Nissan Stadium wasn’t as exciting for me as it would have been for other people. I wasn’t a big football fan. Pete, Ginger and my dad, on the other had, were over the moon. They’d flown out a few days early and Ollie helped them find places to sit and watch the rehearsals while keeping them company. Kevin spent the time meeting with stadium security confirming details that I was sure he had already double-checked over the previous days and weeks.
The song we were starting with was one of Beck’s favorites because of the killer drum solo. It was called “Empty Bed,” but the fans always referred to it as “Cold Sheets.” It was a high-tempo, almost angry, revenge song about a breakup. It was our most popular karaoke song because people loved shouting out the line from the chorus, “I like the sheets cold anyway.” One of the show producers had specifically requested the song because she thought the crowd would sing along and get ramped up by it. The dancing they’d choreographed was really funky and strong, almost like a country version of hip-hop.
Our second song would be “Mothering Hands,” and it was slow and sweet. The dancers would weave around the stage and have flowing white silks billowing all around them. I couldn’t wait to see the video of how it looked from above.
Next came the debut of a song off the new album called “Midnight Sparklers.” The dancers, along with every single ticket holder, would have faux sparklers to wave around to the music. They were like skinny sticks with fiber optic twinkle lights on the ends. From a distance they looked incredibly real, but they were completely fire safe. It was going to be an energizing crowd-pleaser.
We were going to finish up with a brand-new song I’d written that my bandmates were going nuts over. Clint had to get special permission for us to add it to the list because it hadn’t released yet, and the dancers were given the simple directive of grabbing a partner and dancing to the music.
Seeing the various components of the show in rehearsal had been exciting, but actually heading to the stage to put it all together on the field for the first time was an incredible feeling. Before heading out to begin, Ollie stopped me and handed me a snack. The little bag had grapes and string cheese in it along with bottle of water, and I flashed her an appreciative smile. “What would I do without you?”
“Wither away and die, baby cakes. Now, why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on with you?”
My stomach dropped as I looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
“Something’s got you in a twist.”
“I can’t stop thinking about Derek,” I admitted.
She rolled her eyes. “You two are such idiots.” I felt my face fill with red heat. “You’re both miserable without each other but can’t figure out how to get out of your own damned way. You’ll figure it out eventually. And one day I’ll be crazy Aunt Ollie to beautiful little Derek Marian babies.”
Clearly she was trying to kill me.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Whatever,” I muttered.
“Quick, eat. Here comes Clint,” she said. “He probably wants to tell you to get this show on the road so he can get back to the hotel and sleep with your ex-girlfriend.”
“What?” I snorted. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”
“Nope. Saw Jae sneaking out of his hotel room last night to get some ice. Clint’s room is next to mine. It was ugly. I needed eye bleach after.”
43
Derek
I managed to get replaced on Jude’s security detail for the Nashville trip, but Joel still let me stay on the case to keep an eye on social media chatter from anyone on our list of potential problem fans.
After Jude came out, I told Joel about the relationship history with Ari and the stalker named Martin. Of course, he’d already known about the stalker but not about the photographs and threat of media exposure. We had someone keeping his eye on Martin around the clock for the week.
Joel had reamed out for not telling him sooner. I deserved the lecture but reminded him it was too little too late. He insisted on contacting the FBI to keep an eye on the guy for anything that may come in the future.
While helping prep the Nashville security plan, I had discovered Ari was part of a corporate group that had a VIP box at the game. Thank goodness it wasn’t close to Jude’s box. I notified Kevin to be aware of it and run interference with Ari if needed. The last thing Jude needed was to be blindsided by another sales pitch.
The week of the game, I ran queries through our database of fan correspondence to get any new hits or look for any recent comments on social media that could be a concern for Jude. The exposure of performing at the Super Bowl created a massive security challenge, and I wanted to ensure all bases were covered. I worked endless hours that week, double and triple-checking the smallest of details. My gut screamed at me that something was off. If I could just find it, I could help the team keep Jude safe.
On the day of the game I was in the office early again, when Joel came storming in.
“Get on a plane to Nashville,” he snapped.
My blood ran cold. “What? Why?” I asked, almost not wanting to hear. “Is it Jude? Is he okay? Did something happen?”
“Not yet, but if you don’t go tell that man you love him, I’m going to kick your ass.”
I sat there staring at him. Joel and I had known each other for years. He’d been one of my instructors in the Marines before we ended up on missions together. We didn’t talk about love.
“What?” I asked dumbly.
“You’re making yourself sick. I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with you that you can’t man-up and claim what’s yours. That kid fucking worships you, and if you didn’t feel the same way, you wouldn’t be working twenty hour days to keep him safe when he’s already covered by a four-man team.”
“Listen, Joel, you don’t know what you’re talking ab—”
“Don’t bullshit me, Wolfe. Just go out to Nashville and tell him. What’s the worst that could happen? Your family disowns you? So what. Who would you rather have in your life? Jude, or your homophobic family? Because the way I see it, the worst that could happen is you missing out on a chance to be happy for once. And I don’t see how giving up someone you love to keep the peace in your family is worth it.”
Worth it.
Joel continued with a sigh. “Derek, think of Nate.”
&nb
sp; Now he was bringing out the big guns. Nate was one of our teammates who had been killed in the same attack that had messed up my hip. He’d died before he’d gotten up the nerve to propose to his girlfriend.
“What if he’d had another chance to be with Kelly? What would he tell you if he was here in your shoes? Jude deserves to be with the person he loves. Even if you don’t think you deserve that, can’t you admit that he does?”
When I entered the stadium, my security pass gave me access to the sidelines during the performance. I’d arrived just in time to see Jude and the Saints take the stage. The crowd was riled up and ready for a great show, and I was excited for Jude and the rest of the band. What an incredible high they must have gotten from being in the middle of it all.
I took a spot on the edge of the turf between the field and the tunnel where I knew the band would exit after the performance. The stage was visible from where I stood, but Jude was too far away to make out any detail in his expressions as he sang. I had to rely on the images being broadcast to the large display screens overhead. His hair was down and his face was alight with energy. The sleeves of the shirt he wore were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and I noticed the leather bracelet I’d given him resting on one wrist.
God, he was breathtaking.
The band sang a familiar upbeat song for their intro and moved into a slower song I recognized. The dancers had these white sheet-type fabric pieces they danced with, like that parachute we all played with in gym class.
The next song was kick ass. It was from the new album and had the crowd going nuts in the stands. Everyone waved light wands in the air; the vibe in the stadium was magic.
When that song finished, Jude spoke for a minute to the crowd. I assumed the dancers or the band had to reposition themselves and he spoke to buy time. I mentally prepared myself for the familiar intro to “Bluebells,” the song that taunted me even in my sleep. The earworm from hell and the song I’d gladly send overseas to be used in torture chambers. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt Jude agreed with me after six years of singing it during every performance.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this next song is a last-minute addition. I just wrote it a few weeks ago, so forgive us if it’s not perfect yet. This one was never really meant to go public, but the band overheard me tinkering with it and insisted. I told them if I was going to play it, I owed it to someone to do a proper dedication.”
My stomach flipped at the sound of his familiar voice speaking in the Super Bowl stadium during halftime, but when he prepared to dedicate the song to someone, my ears pricked up.
“This song is about regular old all-consuming love, just like any other country music song,” he laughed. “But when it’s your own love, there’s nothing regular about it. One night someone asked me to dance in my kitchen. It was just a normal night. But when we danced, I fell head over heels in love. This song was inspired by that special person, who will always carry the biggest piece of my heart. It’s called ‘Dance With Me.’ It’s fast and fun, so please feel free to stand up and dance,” he finished with a big grin to a crowd roaring with wolf whistles, awws, and whoops.
My throat burned and I felt my eyes prickle. He was so damned brave. The song was exactly the way he described it, lively and catchy. I knew as soon as the band started playing it the song was going to be a smash hit. No wonder his bandmates went nuts over it.
When the music blares and the drumbeats boom,
Dance with me.
Bodies facing
Rhythm chasing
Dance with me.
Eyes are shining
Stars aligning
Dance with me.
When autumn night is dark and the campfire glows,
Sing with me.
When our bodies chill as the winter wind blows,
Sleep with me.
When the springtime comes and the flowers bloom,
Grow with me.
Bodies facing
Rhythm chasing
Dance with me.
Eyes are shining
Stars aligning
Dance with me.
If the summer comes and we’re still in love,
Stay with me.
Bodies facing
Rhythm chasing
Dance with me.
Eyes are shining
Stars aligning
Promise me.
It all came slamming into me again like a two-by-four. Instead of standing by the person I loved while he bared his soul on national TV, I had sat in a room of homophobes and wallowed in self-pity.
Instead of claiming the most amazing man I’d ever known, I’d hidden in shadows and tried to be invisible. What was the fucking point? Why? So I could spend my life protecting strangers instead of protecting him?
That man had just stood on a stage in front of one hundred million people around the world and dedicated a love song to another man. And not just any man.
Me.
As the crowd in the stands roared, the field lights went out so the hundreds of dancers on the field could exit en masse as they’d been trained without the fans seeing behind the scenes. But they’d never trained alongside all the media and team support staff. The resulting crowd on the field was chaos.
I tried to make my way to Jude, to grab him and tell him how stupid I was. To tell him I loved him and would do anything to be with him, but I couldn’t find him in the crowd. Picking up my pace to a run, I tried desperately to get eyes on him.
Finally I saw him. “Jude,” I called out in a relieved rush.
His head came up at the sound of my voice and his face lit up like the sun. Had someone caught it on camera, they could have made millions.
“Derek?” he asked, incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t wait to hold him, and my arms reached out to pull him in. God, there was no better place in the world than the arms of the person you loved most. I couldn’t wait to inhale his smell and feel that wave of relief wash over me.
It all happened so fast. A hot pain sliced into my back just as I got to him, and I stumbled forward. My arms tightened around his body while I struggled to remain upright. Ringing sounds blared in my ears, and I realized my face felt numb. Another sharp pain landed, this time to the back of my arm.
What the hell was happening?
Jude.
I had to make sure Jude was covered. Without thinking, I quickly lowered us to the ground, bringing him down with me and curling into a protective shell around his body. It was the best I could do because I was losing my coordination.
“Kevin, Mike,” I tried yelling. “Someone, get him out of here!”
A body landed on top of me and I could hear screaming. I turned my head to the side to see what was going on. There were cameras everywhere, zoom lenses bumping into people’s backs, and journalists choosing to run toward the incident rather than away. The main lights on the field were still out, so it was hard to see details.
I felt Jude squirming in my arms and thought I heard him crying.
“It’s okay baby, it’s going to be okay. I love you.” But I didn’t know which one of us said it. Him or me.
44
Jude
One minute I was riding the high of an incredible performance and the next I was being smashed into the sideline turf by Derek’s giant body. I had been momentarily startled as I recognized Ari’s wife, Britta Crowe in the crowd of dancers, but as soon as I saw Derek coming towards me for a hug, she fell from my mind.
Before I even had a chance to hug him back, Britta was on top of him. I wasn’t sure if the attack was meant for me and Derek had just stepped in the way, or what. But he had obviously taken a blow. He stumbled and began to fall in some kind of controlled descent, landing both of us in a heap with him on top of me.
He screamed for someone to come get me, but I could hear raw pain in his voice.
“Derek, what happened? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” I stammered, trying to twist around bu
t discovering I was pinned down by his body weight.
“Baby, talk to me,” I begged when he didn’t answer. “Someone help!” I screamed as loudly as I could.
I couldn’t see anything and could only feel the warm press of Derek’s familiar body on mine. Frustrated tears poured out of my eyes as I struggled to find some way of getting loose so I could help him. “Goddammit, He-Man, just tell me you’re okay,” I begged.
Finally someone rolled him off of me and screamed about all of the blood he was losing. I didn’t know where it was coming from, but the blood suddenly seemed to be everywhere.
“No!” I screamed when I saw how bad it was. Hands reached out to grab me, but I fought them off. I scrambled to cup his face and speak in his ear. My hands searched desperately for a way to stop the bleeding on his neck and shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. You’re going to be okay. I’m right here with you. I love you.” I kissed the side of his face, his lips, his hair.
Hot tears fell from my face to splash onto the blood, and the rest of the world faded away.
There was only Derek.
Finally several medics swarmed us, taking over and shoving me out of the way. Kevin tried to shuttle me off the sidelines toward a tunnel, but I growled at him to back off.
When they loaded him in the ambulance, they let me ride along, but once we arrived at the hospital, I was forced to remain outside of the room.
I tried to insist on staying with him. Told them that he was my boyfriend and he needed me there. But rules were rules, they said. They couldn’t let me in.
I wasn’t family.
It was Derek’s father who finally let me in to see him two hours later. It took Derek waking up and demanding to see me before he agreed.
When I entered the room and saw him lying there in a hospital gown, messy hair sticking up and skin paler than I could have imagined, I felt my legs begin to buckle.
“Baby,” Derek said in a hoarse voice, his face a mix of pain and relief.
