by Ali Parker
Nick turned, his hand on the door. He didn’t turn the knob, though. Leaning with his shoulder against the door, his eyes narrowed for a second, but then his shoulders relaxed. “Nothing out of the ordinary. At least, not at first.”
“What do you mean?” I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was cross-examining him, but I had so many questions about that night. I also really did need some answers if I was going to draft as accurate a response to the article as I could.
Nick shoved his hands through his hair again, ghosts dancing in his eyes. Whatever happened, it was bothering him. Haunting him, actually. “We were at a club. Same scene we’ve been to a thousand times, a million.”
“So what went wrong this time?”
He shrugged, but it wasn’t an offhand, uncaring gesture. It looked more like he really didn’t know the answer. “Caleb kept trying to prove something. I don’t know, to himself maybe. Fuck knows why or what. We’re over that shit.”
“Or so you thought,” I prompted him. “But clearly Caleb had other ideas?”
Nodding, he said quietly, “Guess so. I should’ve stopped him. I tried, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s not your fault, Nick.” I’d had the same conversation with Jared. These guys really were more than a band to each other. They were a family. A messed up at times, dysfunctional one, but no family was perfect.
Nick shook his head sadly and said his goodbyes. After he left, I stared at my computer screen, but the words I was searching for to write my reply didn’t come to me. Eventually, I gave up in my fight not to call Jared again and pressed the phone to my ear. It rang and rang. When a sound came at the other end of the line, my breath caught. He was finally—
No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t finally picking up and talking to me. His voicemail was.
“Dammit.” I cussed out my empty office as I listened Jared’s voice telling me to leave a message. I missed hearing that voice for real so much, it hurt my heart. Mood darkening fast, I dropped my phone to my desk without leaving a message. “Okay. Don’t talk to me, but please come home safe.”
21
Jared
“What the—?” I bolted upright on the hospital couch I was sleeping on, swiping at whatever had woken me up by hitting me in the head.
Caleb grinned at me from the bed. “It was time to wake up.”
Relieved to see some color back in his cheeks, I sank back down on my couch and turned on my side to face him. “Why? Doc been here?”
“Not yet, but the nurse was, and she said we might be getting out of here today.” He was definitely livelier today, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up until we knew for sure.
It was still early, and the smell of breakfast foods wafting in from outside his room made my stomach grumble. For hospital food, the stuff they served here wasn’t terrible.
Caleb got moved out of the intensive care unit a couple of days before, and we’d been hanging around in his private room since. I tried not to move around the hospital too much since I’d gotten mobbed in the coffee shop downstairs on our second day here.
Much as I loved our fans and, generally, the attention they gave us, I just wasn’t in the mood. These last few days had given me a lot to think about. I hadn’t spoken to Caleb about it yet, but there were some things I’d been mulling over that I was going to have to discuss with him as soon as we got discharged.
“It’ll be good to get back home.” I kicked the blanket I’d been using to my feet and stretched out. The couch in Caleb’s room wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but sleeping on it for a couple of nights killed my back.
Caleb didn’t understand why I didn’t just go back to our hotel at night, but I’d promised him we were walking out of here together, and I was sticking to it. Considering what happened the last time I left him alone, I wasn’t fucking moving until we got the all clear to leave.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to get out of here,” Caleb agreed. His movements had been restricted even more than mine. The nurses hadn’t let him out of their eyesight since he got admitted. Apparently, they were afraid we’d simply up and leave and demand he be treated further back in Los Angeles.
I’d nearly snorted when I overheard them talking about it. We didn’t like being here, sure, but we weren’t fucking stupid. I, for one, wasn’t going to take any chances with his health. And I wasn’t going to let him do it either.
Caleb’s doctor walked in with his usual businesslike expression on his face. “Gentlemen. How are we doing this morning?”
Caleb sat up, his eyes on the doctor’s. He was more than ready to get out of here. “Better, doc. Much better. Any chance of getting sprung today?”
The doctor flipped open the chart he retrieved from the stand at the foot of Caleb’s bed and scanned its contents. “Your latest tests look good, so yes. You’ll be discharged later today. I just want to run a few more panels, but if they come back same as these, I don’t see any reason we can’t let you go.”
Caleb punched the air and pulled his elbow back to his side, his lips kicking up into a huge grin. “Great news. You guys finally convinced I was right about being good?”
The doctor’s stern gaze lifted from the chart to Caleb. “You’re not ‘good,’ Mr. Larsen.”
“But you just said—”
“I’m satisfied to discharge you if your test results come back clear, that’s what I said. You are not, however, a healthy young man.”
His words turned my stomach to ice, like I’d scarfed down an entire bucket full of the ice chips they had in the machine out in the hall. Leaning forward, I rubbed my hands on my thighs. “What do you mean he’s not healthy?”
The doctor sighed and pulled a pen from his pockets to make some notes in the chart before focusing that stern gaze on me. “I don’t think either of you realizes the severity of the situation your brother was in, Mr. Larsen. With all due respect, his case wasn’t as simple as some may think.”
Caleb started laughing incredulously. I shot him a look and bit out. “Shut up for a sec. This shit is serious.”
The doctor replaced the chart and put both his hands on the foot railing of Caleb’s bed. “Your brother is right, Mr. Larsen. This is serious.”
Caleb’s eyes grew wide. “Why does this sound like some kind of intervention?”
“Because it is,” the doctor told him. He frowned at Caleb. “Your liver shows signs of damage, your blood alcohol level when you were admitted was high enough that another drink might have killed you, and your kidney function has been affected.”
“By one night out?” The question was out my mouth before I could stop it. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It seemed impossible that this was going to cause Caleb lasting damage.
Shaking his head, the doctor’s frown deepened, and he pursed his lips. “It wasn’t all caused by one night. I don’t know you, Mr. Larsen, but it seems to me you’re a regular user of alcohol?”
“No shit,” Caleb muttered. He wasn’t kidding. We were all habitual drinkers. We didn’t smoke regularly, and we didn’t do drugs, but alcohol? We drank enough to make up for what little shit we didn’t do.
“We drink,” I told him, my heart pounding as I waited for him to give us whatever information he was about to. Caleb’s liver and kidneys had been affected, apparently. I might not have been a doctor—fuck, I hadn’t even attended most of my biology classes in high school—but even I knew that was bad.
“None of the damage done so far is permanent,” the doctor said. I huffed out a sigh of relief and Caleb flashed me a look that said, “See, told you I’m fine.”
The doc held up his hand. “Yet. I should add that none of the damage is permanent yet.”
Caleb glared at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re going to have to take it easy for a while if you’re going to recover fully.”
“I’ve been lying here for days. What more do you want from me?” Caleb’s expression was flat, anger flashing in his eyes.
The doctor didn’t back down. “I want you to keep taking it easy. That means no drinking, getting lots of rest, and refraining from doing anything too strenuous.”
Caleb blinked. My ears were buzzing a little. “He can’t drink?”
“Not alcohol,” the doctor replied. There wasn’t a hint of humor anywhere on his face.
My jaw dropped. “Nothing?”
“Not for at least a couple of weeks.”
I tried thinking back to a time when Caleb hadn’t had any alcohol for a couple of weeks. I came up empty. I honestly couldn’t remember. The same thing went for me.
We didn’t party as hard as some others we knew, but we were pretty high up on the list of people always up for a good time. Drinking didn’t get in the way of us doing our jobs, and we didn’t need alcohol to function, but this was going to mean a big lifestyle change for Caleb.
No, for us. Because I was in this with him. He’d been the one admitted to the hospital, but if there was any kind of damage, the rest of us probably had it too. Even if we didn’t, I was supporting Caleb in this. There was no way he was doing this by himself. It was too important he take it seriously. If I didn’t, chances were bigger that he wouldn’t either.
“When you say I can’t do anything strenuous, do you mean I can’t work?” Caleb asked, a dark undertone to his voice.
“You can work,” the doctor said. Caleb’s shoulders relaxed only to tense again. “Provided that you can do it quietly and preferably from your home. No long hours, no getting worked up, no stress.”
This time, it was Caleb’s jaw that dropped. “Yeah, none of that is possible for me. I mean, except for doing some stuff in my studio at home. We’re in the middle of recording an album. We’ll be touring it soon. Long hours, stress, getting worked up, that’s kind of what we do. We’ll have interviews and performances scheduled soon. Sorry, doc, but no can do.”
The doctor shrugged. “Then, I’ll just have to keep you here or refer you for treatment as an inpatient at a center.”
“Rehab?” Caleb shuddered. His eyes went huge. “I’m not an addict.”
“I’m not saying you are. None of your counts indicate you’re battling actual addiction, but if you won’t willingly follow my advice, it’s my duty to refer you someplace you can continue being monitored.”
“He’ll do it,” I interjected. We were adults, for god’s sake. Caleb didn’t need rehab so people could babysit him. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Leveling me a serious glare, the doctor searched my eyes before nodding. “Very well, then. The nurse will be by shortly to administer the final tests. If we’re satisfied with the results, you’ll be discharged. I must warn you to take my advice on your care after you leave here seriously, Mr. Larsen. Risking permanent damage would be the consequence if you don’t, and that would be a very dangerous, very stupid gamble to take.”
I got up to shake his hand. “You have my word, doctor. We won’t be risking anything.”
The man’s grip was firm, his eyes on mine. “I certainly hope not.”
Me, too, buddy. Me too. I didn’t really know how we were going to follow his orders, but I was going to have to figure it out quickly. I mentally added the first few ideas that popped into my head to the list of things I’d been thinking I had to discuss with Caleb when he got out.
Shit just got a lot more serious.
Two hours later, I still didn’t have any answers. But at least we were on our way out of the hospital. While they’d been processing his discharge, I’d called for a guy and taken our bags down. We were finally, finally going home. To a very different life, if I had anything to say about it, but home nonetheless.
Caleb pushed a pair of sunglasses onto his eyes as we left the hospital. “Well, that got ripped way out of proportion.”
“What do you mean?” I scanned the lot for the car I ordered and spotted it parked just a few car lengths away from us on the busy curb.
“Not drinking, not doing anything too strenuous. That’s bullshit. We have an album to finish. Don’t mind staying sober, but I can’t record from bed. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t,” I snapped. “You won’t be fine unless you do what the doc said.”
“Relax, man. He’s a doctor. Of course, he’s going to exaggerate things. Give me a bit of a scare, that’s all it was about. We just have to get our asses back home and finish our damn album. We’ll figure everything else out after that.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We just have to get back to LA.”
I was planning on talking things through with him on our way back home, but now I realized that wasn’t a good idea. Fuck, I just wanted to get home. I always thought clearer in my own house.
22
Alicia
“Excellent news.” Gerry barged into my office wearing a smile wider than the horizon behind me. “The boys are back in town.”
“Jared and Caleb are back? Do I need to go pick them up from the airport?” I was bursting to see Jared, even if I still hadn’t heard a thing from him.
These last few days had dragged by without him. Life was so much more fun with him in it. More than that, I didn’t want any more days without him there, even if it was just to do the boring stuff with him. I wanted to read the news with him by my side and joke around while making coffee. Ordinary stuff, but I wanted that with him.
As confusing as our relationship could be, that much had become clear to me. Jared was someone I wanted in my life. Whatever that meant.
“Not necessary,” Gerry told me. “They’re home already. They got in last night.”
My eyes bugged at the same time my heart sank and a tiny spear of hurt stabbed my gut. “They’ve been home since last night?”
“Yup,” he said cheerfully. “Caleb got discharged yesterday, and they got the first flight they could out of New York.”
“Oh.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I’d been looking forward to him getting back, thinking he would talk to me or at least let me know when they left the hospital. Obviously, I’d thought wrong since he hadn’t done either of those things.
“The rest of Destitute has just arrived.” He leaned against the door frame, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “I asked the Larsens to come in, too, but I thought we should have a meeting before they get here. We need to hit refresh on their recording times and hammer out some new dates for their album release. We’ll also need to talk about how we’re going to handle Caleb’s hospitalization in the press if the boys get asked about it. Thought you should probably be there for that.”
“Thanks.” Of course, I should be there for that. I was their public relations agent. I already had my strategies worked out for them. I just wasn’t planning on getting into it on the first day the Larsens got back.
Caleb had only just gotten out of the hospital. I wasn’t going to be scheduling interviews for them for at least a couple of weeks, so I thought it was best to give them a bit of time to breathe.
Gerry, however, had other plans. He rapped against the door and then straightened out. Flashing me a forced grin, he turned to leave. “No problem. If you’d like to join us for this, we’d better get to it. The guys will be getting restless soon.”
“Sure.” Pushing back on my chair, I followed him to the conference room where the others were gathered. The clear glass walls of the room could be turned opaque by the push of a button, and the first thing I noticed was that Gerry had arranged for our privacy. This wasn’t something that happened often at our offices.
People who worked here were so used to the famous clients represented that they didn’t think twice about seeing them around. Security to enter the building was tight. It was one place no one had to hide who they were.
We aimed to create a safe space here for people who were always being hounded to relax and do what they needed to do without unnecessary interruptions even if they were doing it in the open. If we were strategizing about things that needed to be kept confid
ential and would be using presentations or the digital whiteboards available, then we would use the privacy setting.
It made me wonder what Gerry had up his sleeve for this meeting. Maybe I was reading too much into it, though. Maybe he purely wanted to give them privacy for their reunion. Tensions were bound to be high since, as far as I knew, Jared also hadn’t kept them updated about Caleb’s condition.
From Jared’s side, I was pretty sure there was going to be more yelling about them getting Caleb so drunk, he had to be hospitalized to begin with. Coming to think about it, it kind of made sense for him to be using the privacy setting.
Shaking my worry and a nagging feeling I couldn’t place from my mind, I walked into the conference room after him. Destitute, minus the Larsens, started talking all at once when we entered.
“Are they here?” Dominic asked. He was sitting up straight, and his voice had a demanding tone to it I wasn’t used to from him.
At the same time, Nick turned from where he’d been standing at the window and looking out over the stormy ocean. The weather had been deteriorating all morning, and the troubled sea, darkened by the tinted office windows matched Nick’s eyes. “Is Caleb okay? Why haven’t they talked to us?”
Matt was seated on the far side of the table with a thoughtful expression and a small frown. His voice was quieter than the others, but I knew better than to mistake him for being any less worried. “Where are they?”
“Boys.” Gerry’s voice boomed, slicing through the heavy atmosphere in the room. His lips curved into an assuring, mildly condescending grin that immediately set me on edge. “They’re fine. Everything will be fine. They’ve arrived back in LA, and they’ll be here shortly.”
Dom’s eyes narrowed. “Treat me like a fucking child for one more second, and I’m walking out of here. What’s really going on, Gerry?”
