The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

by Anthology

  We'd been each other's firsts. We'd meant to be each other's lasts. But it had never happened. I'd never had a truly committed relationship since. Rose called me a cynic, and maybe I was, but if Drew and I couldn't beat the odds as hard as we'd loved each other, how would it work with anyone else? And now maybe I'd never know how and where we failed.

  A gentle touch on my thigh roused me from my thoughts. Rose was crouched beside me, and she pulled me in for a huge hug. "Are you okay, sweetie?" She sat back and surveyed me. "Why am I asking? Of course, you're not. Come. Let's sit down." She guided me to my couch. "Here. I grabbed Justin's bourbon on my way out. It burns, but in a good way."

  Despite the upsetting news, I laughed as I watched her reach into her purse that was more like a suitcase and pull out a bottle and two plastic cups. "Who are you, Mary Poppins?"

  She grinned. "Mary Fucking Poppins doesn't know shit. Who needs a spoonful of sugar when alcohol works faster?" She poured us each a generous amount. We clicked our plastic cups and drank.

  "Damn." I shivered as the fiery liquid warmed me from the inside out.

  "Now," Rose said, in her take-charge way. "I called Justin and asked him directly if he knew about the conditions of any of the band members.” Rose’s husband was an orthopedic surgeon at Mass General.

  "You asked him? Isn't that private info?"

  She shrugged. "More like I threatened him."

  I lifted an eyebrow. "Should I ask?"

  "I told him if he ever wanted to have sex again, he'd tell me. As a little extra insurance, I sent him a picture of me in my newest Victoria's Secret outfit and told him if he'd never see it in person if he didn't."

  "You'd never be able to uphold that."

  "True, but I can go longer without sex than him. Besides, he knows your connection and knows I wasn't asking as a fan." She held up her hand. "Not that I'm a major fan. I mean, I support you more. But they are really good."

  "Or were," I said, glancing at the commercial ended and returned to the breaking news.

  "Don't talk like that," she said. "They're there. All four of them."

  I grabbed her arm. "Alive?" I could barely choke out the word.

  "Justin said yes, although at least one of them is in critical condition. That must be Drew. Word on the news is their manager and bus driver were both killed."

  Lauren's dead. The thought circulated in my head several times before it began to sink in. The 'Wicked Witch is Dead' song started to play in the back of my mind, but I quickly shut it down. As much as I hated her, I could never be that vindictive. She was an easy target to blame for all the grief I'd felt the past several years, but she had been an instrumental part of the band's initial success. And while there was no love lost between us, my relief was someone else's unwelcome news. I said a quick mental prayer for her family, as well as that of the driver’s. "What else did Justin tell you?"

  "All he did was confirm that all the band members are alive. Even for me, he won't risk his job by sharing personal information. I tried, but that was all I could get from him."

  "I need to go. I need to see him...them."

  Rose looked at me, sympathy lining her features. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

  "Yes. No." I shook my head as tears filled my eyes. "I don't know. But that doesn't matter. He still had my name as an emergency contact. I have to honor that. Besides, what if this is the last chance I have to talk to him? There must be some reason he sent me that ticket.” I glanced at the concert ticket and backstage pass for their Homecoming concert in North Carolina in a few weeks. Whoever had sent them hadn’t known I’d moved. I’d received them a couple days ago, forwarded from my previous address. There hadn’t been a note with them. They’d caused so much uncertainty about wanting to see them, but with the new circumstances, I knew what I was going to do.

  Rose read my mind. She raised an eyebrow at me. "It won't be easy to get in. The hospital is going to have crazy security in place."

  "Then I’ll just have to be crazier.”

  Chapter Two

  "And I'm telling you someone from the hospital called me because I'm the emergency contact."

  He looked at Justin. "You're cleared. She isn't."

  "She's with me," Justin replied.

  "If her name's not on the list, she doesn't get past." His eyes were as cold as his tone was stern.

  Justin sent me an apologetic look. "Sorry. I've got an appointment back there. I’ll see what I can do from back there."

  I nodded and watched with envy as he slipped past the human barrier and walked down the hall. Rose had convinced him to meet me and help me get through as many barriers as he could. I was grateful; he’d made it easier to get past the outside security that was doing its best to hold back the fans that had turned out, and he’d gotten me up to the correct floor without any trouble. But as soon as we tried to get past the nurse’s station, we’d hit a roadblock.

  I turned back to the team that was staring back at me with disinterest. "Look, I appreciate that you're doing your job. But I promise I'm not here to make trouble. I'm friends with the band." I turned on my most charming smile, the one that had opened doors in the past.

  One of them smirked. "Sure, lady. And I'm friends with the Queen of England. Look, I got a job to do. If you ain't on the list, you don't get past without a band member vouching for you. Listen, lady. This ain't my first rodeo. I don't know what you had to do to get the floor pass with the good doctor," he ran his eyes over my figure suggestively, "but it won't work with me."

  "Are you saying you think I... oh, my god! He's my brother-in-law!" I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It wouldn't help to climb up the mountain of a man who stood before me and smack the crap out of him for his lewd comment and look. I hadn't driven two hours in the dark to be deterred now. I blew out my breath and said as calmly as I could, "If you would just go back and ask a band member, or better yet, find the doctor who called me, I'm sure someone can clear this up."

  His only response was to cross his arms and glare at me. Justin had warned me when he handed me the pass that allowed me on the hall where the band was quartered that it wouldn't be as easy as just walking up to them. But I hadn't counted on my name not being on an approved visitor list. After all, someone from the hospital had called me.

  An idea hit me. "Wait, look. I got a pass sent from them." I fumbled in my purse and saw them stiffen and reach toward their holsters." They didn't relax until I waved the ticket and pass in front of them.

  "Look, lady, this ain’t no concert. No name on the list, no getting past. Now, you need to leave before we have someone escort you out."

  I was trying to decide if screaming bloody murder or faking some kind of medical condition might be a viable option when I heard a voice from behind the guards.

  "Let her through."

  I gasped as I stood on my tiptoes to see over the human blockade. A tall, dark-haired man stood with one forearm in a cast and his other hand in his jean's front pocket. Despite the various cuts that marred his handsome face, I'd know him anywhere.

  "Rick! Oh, thank God you're okay!" I brushed past the guards and stopped short of jumping into his arms, uncertain of his reception. Almost two years had passed, but I knew only too well that time doesn't cure all wounds.

  Shrewd eyes looked me over. Then they softened. "Get your ass over here." He held his good arm wide, and the moment I stepped close, he wrapped it around my waist lifting me in a tight hug. "EmmaBear. I'm glad you came," he whispered in my ear before putting me back on my feet.

  I clutched his good arm. "I wasn't sure, but I couldn't stay away. I had to know for myself how you boys are."

  He grinned. "Boys? Grab with both hands next time, baby."

  I wrinkled my nose. "Ew, and thanks for proving my point." I shifted my eyes to his cast. "Let's start with you. How are you, honestly?"

  He shrugged. "I was just thrown around a bit. Just a tiny break in my arm, but I'll be fine."

  "A
nd the rest?"

  Rick smiled. "Why don't you come see for yourself? Ryan and Andy will be glad to see you."

  I noticed the name that was missing in his statement. "And Drew?”

  His smile faltered. "Let's start with the others. Then you and I will have a little chat."

  My knees felt weak. "Is he..." I couldn't even say the words.

  Strands of dark hair fell over his forehead as he shook his head. "He's in bad shape, but he'll live. Might wish he hadn't for a while, though."

  Relief flowed through me alongside an anxiousness to know more. But Rick was already pulling on my elbow to guide me down the hall, away from the prying eyes of the staff. Knowing I should be grateful I was even here, I followed quietly. I should have felt relief at the warm greeting from Rick and his promise there was more to come. Instead, I felt cold and nervous about his 'chat' comment. Had I misread the gift of tickets? Maybe they weren’t a peace offering.

  Rick lead me to what looked like it might be a small conference room that had been turned into a private waiting room for people associated with the band. Another guard stood outside the door. He nodded to Rick as he approached, but this time my presence wasn’t questioned.

  "Look who I found," he said as he led the way into the room.

  "Please tell me it's a hot nurse here to give me a sponge bath," another familiar voice responded.

  I couldn't help but grin on hearing Ryan’s familiar southern drawl that somehow made his comment sound less crude. "Not a nurse and definitely not a sponge bath. Maybe a bar of soap for your mouth 'til you learn some manners,” I teased.

  Ryan's mouth dropped open as he spun around. "Well, shit. Ems, is that really you?" He took three steps over and swung me around in a bear hug. "For fuck's sake, it is you! You're a sight for sore eyes. Go ahead and add to that sore arms, legs, head, di--"

  "Shut your mouth, asshole." Andy gently pulled me from Ryan's arms into his own. "Hey, Emma. He's right, though. It's good to see you, again." He kissed my forehead. "It's been a long time."

  I stretched up to kiss his cheek. "Too long," I said. I'd missed these guys, but I'd never thought they might have missed me. Things were strained the last time I saw them, and communication between us had been sporadic before it just stopped, mostly on my end. I was more than grateful for their warm welcome.

  Andy assessed me. He was the quiet one of the group, the most thoughtful whose eyes didn't miss much. "How've you been, Emma?"

  "Okay."

  While most people would have taken my answer at face value, it was if Andy could see through me. "You look as beautiful as ever. You've done well, Ems.” I noticed Andy stopped short of saying he was happy for my success.

  I turned to survey the rest of the small room, made smaller by the number of people in it. I didn't know anyone else but assumed they were part of the record label. One of them had his head tilted back on his chair, his mouth sagging open as he napped. I couldn't blame him; it was late at night and had been a long day for everyone. The rest all seemed to be busy on their cell phones. Despite the large group, it was still obvious a vital person was missing - Drew. Before I could ask about him, a pretty, petite blonde left her chair in the corner and approached Rick, who put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  "Hi," she said, sticking her hand out. "I'm Miranda."

  "My wife," Rick stated, pride and love evident in his statement.

  While I'd known he'd gotten married from the massive media coverage, she was after my time. It must have been quite a whirlwind romance. Of all the women I thought Rick might hook up with, Miranda was the polar opposite, at least by sight. I'd always figured he'd be drawn to a woman with a more of a biker-chick vibe, not the conservatively dressed, innocent-looking girl in front of me.

  "I'm Emma. It's nice to meet you."

  "You, too. We're all glad you're here." Her smile was warm and genuine, and from her comment, my name wasn't new to her. That was interesting.

  I finally decided to tackle the elephant in the room. "How's Drew? Can I see him?"

  All of their faces grew serious.

  "He regained consciousness for just a few minutes a couple hours ago, but he slipped back into it," Miranda said, her voice a wobbly. Clearly, she was shaken by the event.

  "That's good, though, right?"

  Rick pulled me to a chair and made me sit.

  I tried to read his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "He's pretty banged up, Emma. The rest of us fared better because we were in the back of the bus catching up on some sleep. We got tossed around and banged up, but Drew was up front. He said he wanted to work on some lyrics while there were on his mind. The front end took the brunt of the impact. Our PR manager and bus driver died at the scene, probably on impact. It's amazing Drew wasn't killed, too. He's got a concussion they're monitoring, and they had to do surgery to remove his spleen and insert a rod into his leg which was broken. He's also got a broken wrist. They've got an orthopedic guy in there now to see how bad it is, and if he’ll be able to play at the level he does now.”

  I swallowed hard. Music was his life; he'd be devastated not to be able to play. "I'd like to see him, Rick."

  He hesitated. "It kills me to ask this, but why are you here? I mean, why now and not before? We won’t allow this to be turned into a publicity stunt for whoever you are working for."

  My shock must have shown on my face. At least he had the grace to look ashamed, but he held my eyes none-the-less. He was serious.

  I held his gaze without flinching. "I understand why you're protecting him, but I swear to you, Rick, I'm only here because I care about him. About all of you. I was a mess when I heard the news. I... I can't not see him. I thought maybe he was also ready since he sent me the ticket and backstage pass. I promise I’m not here to stir up trouble for him or you guys."

  "He was in bad shape when you left, Ems. It took him a long time to snap out of it. I'm not sure he ever got over you, though."

  "I can relate to that."

  His eyes flickered in surprise, then studied me. Finally, he nodded. "I'll take you to him."

  "Thank you." I wasn't sure if that meant Rick was truly on my side, but at least he trusted me enough to take me to see his best friend. Not that I would've let even Rick stop me at this point.

  As we stood, I grabbed his arm. "I know you probably don't believe me, but all that happened, it wasn't the way I wanted it to end. I tried."

  Dark eyes held mine. "I believe you. Don't worry about it for now. We'll figure it all out. I think it's good that you're here. Really good."

  I hoped he was right.

  Chapter Three

  The area was mostly quiet at this hour, just some murmurings from the central nursing desk. The doors to the patient rooms were all closed ensuring everyone's privacy. It must not be easy for the families of other patients having a celebrity in their midst and not being able to come and go with the same ease as other visitors.

  Rick seemed to be able to read my thoughts. "As soon as he's more stable, he'll be relocated to a more private wing. We're trying to remain as unobtrusive as we can, but it's impossible not to attract attention. We've had catered meals brought in for the families and medical staff, so they don't have to keep going through security just to get food."

  It was good to know their celebrity status hadn't given them such a sense of entitlement that they didn't care about anyone else. It's what I would have expected from them once, but fame had a way of changing people.

  He stopped outside of a door that once again had a uniformed man posted outside. He stepped aside and opened the door as we neared it. I stopped so suddenly that Rick bumped into me, pushing me further into the room. Despite what he'd told me, I wasn't prepared to see the broken man lying on the bed in front of me. My hand trembled as it covered my mouth. "Oh, God. Drew."

  Rick's hand landed on my shoulder. He squeezed as he said, "Sit with him. Talk to him. If anyone can draw him out, y
ou can. You know where to find us when you're done."

  I turned to hug him and ended up stifling a sob I hadn't known was there.

  "Shh, Emma. He'll be okay." His warmth found in both his physical hug and acceptance of my presence gave me strength.

  I picked up my head and mouthed, “Thank you.” I knew he'd know it was for both reasons.

  "I'll make sure you're added to the approved list and let the staff know you're in here. They come in and out as needed, but mostly they'll respect your privacy."

  I walked to Drew's bed. There were some bruises on his face along with stitches, but nothing too bad. His face looked a little leaner, his hair a bit longer than the last time I'd seen him. And sneaking out of the sleeve of the hospital gown was a tattoo that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen him. He was so still, his breathing so rhythmic, I might have thought he was sleeping except I knew he never slept on his back. He preferred to lay on his side, curled around me or a pillow if I wasn't there. I think the only time I saw him in bed on his back was if I was on top making love to him.

  "Oh, baby." I choked back a sob,

  There was a chair in the corner that I pullover over, opposite of his casted wrist and leg. I reached for his good hand being careful of an IV line and cradled it to my face, relieved to feel how warm it was when he lay there so cold and still. His face was covered in a light scruff which under other circumstances I would've found sexy. Now it just emphasized his helplessness.

  I kissed his fingers. "I've missed you," I whispered. "I tried so hard to move on, but being back, seeing the guys and you, I guess I didn't make much progress after all. At least I'll finally get the chance to have the last word." I laughed softly. "But I swear, it would be worth it to let you have it now." I paused, waiting, hoping to see if there was some reaction to my voice. There was no response, not even a blip on the heart monitor that he'd heard me. I don't know why it irritated me, as if my voice alone would bring him back to health.