by Eva Haining
“I do all right.” The mention of our local movie star has me itching to make like a tree, but my cock is telling me I’m not leaving here without at least round two and maybe a third for good measure. “What about you? You’re insanely hot, and you are a rock star, for God’s sake. Talented women rule the world.”
“Tell that to my bank balance over the past few years.” Now, who’s being modest?
“Didn’t you just sign a big recording deal?”
“A week ago. We start laying down tracks for our new album in three weeks. This is just the end of our tour.”
“Where are you off to next?”
“Houston. Playing NRG Stadium later this week as the warm-up band for Marcus Brody.”
“Shit, really? I love his music. I had tickets to see him at the Rodeo last year, but my dad broke his arm, and I ended up spending the night in the emergency room.”
“If you want, I can get you tickets? We get freebies, but none of us have family or friends in Houston, so the seats will just be sitting empty.” I want to say yes, but my one-night stand rules don’t extend to driving to another city to hang out.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not asking you to come and see me. I know what this is, and I intend to get my fill of you tonight before leaving your ass behind tomorrow. So come, or don’t, the free tickets are there if you feel like coming. You can even bring someone with you if you want.” She reaches for the complementary notepad and pen on the nightstand and scrawls what I’m assuming is her number. “Toss it, save it. Whatever. If I get a text from you, I’ll put your name on a set of tickets at the box office. I won’t even have time to hang after the show, we’ll be straight on the tour bus and off to Louisiana.”
I take her number and sit it next to my phone. Maybe I should reciprocate, but right now, all I want to do is lose myself in her for a few more hours before I head home.
“So, you want your fill of me tonight? I’m all yours, girl.”
Four
BELLE
I stayed up way too late last night writing a new song. We’ve got our gig at NRG Stadium tonight, and I’m struggling to get through our soundcheck. Ever since we left Kingsbury Falls, I hate to admit that I’ve been watching my phone, wondering if an unknown number will pop up with a text from Knox. We had an incredible night last week, and I don’t usually find myself craving more from a one-night stand, but the guy has a magic cock, and he knows how to use it.
I’m not saying I want to date the guy or anything, but I’d definitely take another ride if it were on offer. When our sound check is done, I take the guys to get some coffee. We all could use it, and Johnny looks worse than I feel. They all do.
“Can we all agree that we’re going to get some real downtime during our week off? Y’all look like shit, and so do I.”
“Agreed.” David, Tony, and Johnny answer in unison.
“Good.” I’m about to launch into mothering mode—which happens all too often when you’re the lone woman touring with a bunch of childish men—when my phone beeps. I taper off, focusing in on the text I just received from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hey girl. How’s Houston treating you? I thought I might take you up on the offer of coming to see you play tonight. If you’re still up for it?
Me: Last minute much?
Unknown: Sorry. If it’s too late, don’t sweat it.
Me: I live my life last minute. It’s fine. I can get the tickets set aside for you no problem. How many do you need?
I hate that I want to know if I’m facilitating a date for him or not, which is dumb because I told him he could bring someone.
Unknown: Just one.
Me: OK.
I quickly save his number to my phone.
Knox: Thanks. Maybe if you have time after, we could grab a drink?
I want to say yes. I really want to say yes.
Me: I have to leave as soon as our set is done. Maybe next time I’m in Texas? Or if you find yourself in LA at some point in the next few months?
Knox: I forgot you were heading out right after. Sucks.
Me: If I had time, I would totally suck. ;)
Knox: Dang, girl. You’ve got me rocking a semi.
Me: Only a semi? I must be losing my touch.
Knox: I find it hard to believe you’d ever lose your touch.
Me: You’re not so bad yourself. I’ll leave your ticket at the box office. They’ll ask for ID before they give it to you.
Knox: Thanks. Break a leg.
Knox: Or is that only for theater?
Knox: Whatever the good luck saying is for musicians.
Me: Break a leg is fine. Or just saying good luck.
Knox: Then good luck. I look forward to seeing you, even though you won’t see me.
Me: FYI that sounds so creepy. Lucky for you I know you’re not the stalker type.
Knox: ;)
“You have a weird, goofy grin on your face right now, Belle. It’s freaking me out.” Johnny brings me back to the present. I totally forgot where I was for a minute. Damn, that boy and his amazing sex.
“Sorry. Nothing important. Just setting aside a ticket for the show tonight.”
“Is this the guy you were having ridiculously loud sex with last week? Seriously, you need to remember hotel, motel, and B&B walls are thin.” If it were anyone other than these guys, I’d be mortified.
“This coming from you? I’ve heard you having sex more times than I care to remember, and if memory serves, there are often multiple women screaming like banshees. And let’s not get into the things I’ve seen on tour buses. That shit is burned into my retinas. You don’t get to comment on my sex, noisy or otherwise.”
“Touché, Blue Bell. Well played.” Johnny raises his coffee cup in salute.
“And if you must know, yes, the ticket is for him.”
“Holy shit. You’ve never brought a guy to a gig. That’s some serious shit.”
“No, it’s not. We’re friends. He likes Marcus Brody. I’m not even going to have time to see him after.”
“You know we can delay the tour bus for a few hours, right?”
“I’m not changing our schedule for a one-night stand. It’s fine. If we’re back in this neck of the woods soon, then I’ll catch up with him.”
“Belle’s got a crush. Holy shit. I think hell has just frozen over. Stop the press!” David is such a smart-mouth at times.
“Get bent. I need to call the box office. I’ll see you guys at the gig.”
“Aww, Belle, don’t go. We were just messing with you. Come back.”
“Later, guys. Keep drinking the coffee. No booze. Are you hearing me, Johnny?”
“I’m drinking my coffee like a good little boy.”
I head back to the hotel, wanting a little time to myself before I need to put my game-face on and do this gig. I don’t like the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s not dread, but something more disturbing—a craving for one more night with Knox. The guys are right. If I really want to see him, I can delay our departure for a few hours. Unfortunately, I don’t think just a few hours with him would be enough to quench my thirst. It’s better for both of us if I just leave on time.
I’m too relieved that he’s coming alone and too sad that I can’t spend any time with him. Not even a glimpse. I call the box office and ask them to set aside an envelope for Thomas Knox, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I ask them to put a message on the back:
There’s a backstage pass in there. Come back after my set finishes. Belle
The crowd is electric, screaming as Johnny does an elaborate guitar solo. The lights onstage are blinding, while the rest of the stadium is shrouded in darkness. I know where the VIP seats are situated, but I can’t see them from up here. Even in the middle of our performance, I wish I could set eyes on Knox. Knowing he’s out there with his eyes on me is a slow kind of torture. I’m not even sure he’ll come backstage. I can only hope.
As we play our next-to-last
number, the crowd is singing along, which is a surreal feeling—something I wrote being sung by a crowd. It’s amazing. Then something changes. The excited cheers turn to horrified screams. It’s not until I look over at the rest of the band that I see Johnny falling to the floor, convulsing. I drop the microphone and sprint across the stage. There’s a collective gasp as his guitar crashes to the ground, splintering into pieces.
When I plummet to my knees beside him, his eyes are rolling back in his head, and he starts choking on his own vomit.
“Someone call 9-1-1!” My heart is hammering in my chest as I watch in disbelief. I know I need to make sure he has a clear airway, but I don’t want to hurt him. David and Tony form a barrier to shield Johnny from the crowd’s eyes, but within seconds, people are starting to rush the stage. We’re all going to be trampled.
One of the event’s first-responders shoves his way through the crowd to where we’ve formed a small circle around Johnny. “The ambulance is on its way. We need to get him backstage and away from all these people.” The guys help to lift Johnny and get him to safety.
I should’ve followed, but I hesitated for just a second, and now I’m being swept along with the masses. “Please, I need to get through. I need to get to my friend.” No one is listening, jostling me back and forth as I attempt to move against the tide. “Let me through.” I’m scared. For Johnny. For me. I feel so small and fragile as the crowd dictates my direction.
There’s a commotion at the edge of the stage, but I can’t see what’s happening. It’s not until I see him coming toward me, shoving anyone who gets in his path out of the way as he hoists himself up onto the stage. There’s a swarm of people between us, but he parts the red sea to get to me.
“Step. The. Fuck. Off.” It’s Knox. The second his eyes find mine, a wave of relief washes over me, my fear turning to uncontrollable tears. “Don’t make me hurt you, man.”
“And who the hell are you?”
“She’s my girl, so if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll knock you the fuck out.” The guy reads Knox’s murderous stare and moves to the side to let him through.
“Knox.” I rush toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist, seeking solace as I bury my head in his chest.
“I’ve got you, girl.”
“Did they manage to get Johnny out? I couldn’t see anything. People just kept coming at me.”
“They got him. I’m going to get you out of here. Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight.” I do as he asks, and he lifts me into his arms before making his way through the crowd. Suddenly, I feel safe in his arms, but I need to see Johnny.
“We need to go to him. I need to know he’s going to be okay.”
“I’ll get you there, darlin’. I told you, I’ve got you.” He muscles his way through to the backstage area, cradling me in his arms like I weigh nothing more than a feather. The second he sets me down, I rush over to where the other guys are waiting outside their dressing room.
“Where is he? Is he okay? Is he… dead?” As the words leave my lips, tears stream down my face. Knox is close at my side, slipping his hand into mine.
“The paramedics are in there with him now. He was in bad shape, Belle. They told us we need to wait out here.” A moment later, the door opens, and Johnny is wheeled out on a gurney, a mask over his mouth, and tubes coming out of his arm. He looks as close to death as anyone I’ve ever seen. I can’t bear it.
He’s surrounded by the ambulance paramedics and the first responders who were working the event.
“Is he going to be okay?” My voice is shaky, unsure of whether I can stand to hear the answer.
“Do any of you know what he’s been taking? Is he on any medication?”
“No prescribed meds,” David speaks up. “He’s been hitting the drink hard lately, and he’s been doing coke.”
“Anything else we need to know about?”
“He smokes weed.”
“We’re taking him to Methodist ER. He was lucid for a few seconds, which is a good sign, but he’s lucky to be alive.”
“I want to ride with him.” My whole body is vibrating—terrified—angry at him for doing this to himself. I take a step in their direction, but I’m unsteady on my feet.
David reaches out and pulls me into his arms. “Tony and I will go to the hospital with him. There’s no point in all of us hanging around to give him shit for this.”
“Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I need to rest or be given a dose of smelling salts. I don’t have the fucking vapors. I’m coming.”
“This has nothing to do with you being a woman. I’m telling you, he’s going to be sleeping this off, and he’s going to need you tomorrow when I give him an ultimatum.”
“What?”
“He needs to go to rehab, Belle. This has been coming for a while. I’m just pissed at myself for not forcing the issue before it got to this point. He either gets clean, or he’s out.”
“You can’t do that to him, David. He’s worked his ass off for this band. We’re all to blame for this. I won’t abandon him when he needs us most.”
“Neither will I. The one thing he loves more than drugs and booze is music. This band. I’d never walk away from him, Belle. I wouldn’t do that to any of you, but he needs help. Hopefully, this is his wake-up call.”
“He looked so…” A lump forms in my throat as I replay the sight of him when he collapsed.
Knox is beside me, and I’m so glad he’s here. “If you want to go to the hospital, at least let me drive y’all. Then, when you know he’s okay, you can take it in shifts. You’re all going to need some rest. I can take you back to your hotel later.”
“We checked out. Tonight was supposed to be spent sleeping on the tour bus. Shit. I need to call and cancel the upcoming gigs. And I need to call the record company and our manager.”
“What about his family? His parents?”
“We’re his family. We’re all he’s got.” Tony has been quiet this whole time. Looking at him now, he looks like a ghost—white as a sheet, and gaunt. This has been a shock to all of us.
I turn my attention to Knox. “If you wouldn’t mind dropping us at the hospital, that would be very much appreciated. You don’t have to stick around, I know you have a farm to run.” I take his hand, interlacing my fingers with his. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The ER is chaotic when we arrive. Reporters are circling, looking for an update on Johnny. We may not be the biggest name in music yet, but Marcus Brody is, and we tanked his concert. I make use of my time sitting around the waiting room, calling Stuart to let him know what happened. He says he’s the one who will cancel the gigs and talk to the label. That’s his job, but my mind is racing. I’m relieved when he reassures me it will all be handled. I don’t even know what I would or could say to them at this point.
All I can think about is Johnny.
He’s like a brother to me, and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. He and I grew up together, bouncing between foster homes and group homes. We always kept in touch, making sure the other was doing okay.
When a doctor finally appears to let us know how he’s doing, he asks for a family member.
“I’m looking for Johnny Reed’s family.”
“That’s us.” We stand in unison.
“I understand that you’re his bandmates, but I can’t speak to non-family about his condition.”
I step forward. “I’m the closest thing he has to family. He’s my foster brother. He has no legal family members to inform. I’m his sister.”
“Okay. Your brother is lucky there were paramedics on hand this evening. The level of alcohol and cocaine in his system could’ve killed him.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s alive, but if he keeps doing what he’s been doing, he won’t be for long. I can recommend some great rehab facilities, but I warn you, he has to want this for himself. If he does it just to appease everyone else, he’ll relapse, and there mig
ht not be someone around to call 9-1-1 next time.”
“Can we see him?”
“They’re getting him settled in his room at the moment. He won’t be awake until tomorrow. His body has been through a lot. I’d suggest you all get some rest.”
“Can one of us stay with him?” David asks exactly what I was thinking.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll stay with him. You guys can go and get some shut-eye. I’ll call if he wakes up. If not, one of you can take over in the morning. Sound like a plan?”
“I suppose.” I really don’t want to leave him, but if we can’t all stay, I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see him. I hug David, reminding him to call me if Johnny wakes up. “Even if it’s three in the morning, I don’t care, call me. If anything changes, call me. If he needs anything…”
“Call you. I will. Go and get some sleep.”
“I’ll be here at seven to let you go and get some rest, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tony says his goodbyes, and we stand and watch as the doctor ushers David over to the elevator on the far side of the waiting room.
“And text me the room number,” I shout after him. He nods at me as the elevator doors close.
“Come on, I’ll drive you guys to a hotel. Any preference?”
“Somewhere close by. That’s all we need.”
“Done.” Knox wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Tony follows behind, giving us some space. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s lost in his thoughts, or he wants to let me stay lost in mine. Either way, the walk to Knox’s truck is silent, and I’m grateful for it.
Knox doesn’t try to fill the silence with idol chit-chat or platitudes. Without knowing me very well, he somehow seems to know me better than most. I let myself take comfort at his side, wrapping my arm around his waist as we walk toward his truck.
