Author: Olivia Cunning

Her back is broken, son. If she lives, she’ll never walk again.

But she’ll still be able to play the piano, won’t she, Father?

I don’t think so.

For that, Jason grieved.

Don’t cry, boy. Men don’t cry. Not ever.

He didn’t cry. He ran. Ran until he couldn’t run anymore. No breath left in him. No energy. If he couldn’t run, he had to hide. Hide from it. If it found him, it would get him. The thing on the gurney pretending to be his mother would get him.

An old shed became his salvation. He crammed his body into a small space. A dark place. Musty like an old attic. The air stale and stifling. But he was alone here. He liked being alone. Alone was safe. He listened for the squeak of wheels. They never came, but after a long time his father did.

Everyone has been looking for you all day. I don’t have the patience for this bullshit right now, Jason. Your mother is dead. Do you understand? She’s dead! You’re alive—not a fucking scratch on you—but she’s dead.

Jason was too stunned to feel the first blow.

Dead? What did it mean to be dead? Was it like sleeping? A long sleep with no more pain?

Too confused to feel the second blow.

Don’t you ever hide from me again, you piece of shit. Not ever.

Jason heard the squeak of the gurney’s wheels outside the shed door.

Too afraid to feel the third blow. The fourth. Fifth. The pain washed over him like a comforting blanket. He deserved this. Hurt me, Father. Hurt me.

Jace’s eyes flipped open, his heart thumping with terror. His gaze darted around the sterile white walls. The IV bag hanging beside the bed. The heart rate monitor. The curtain rod above his bed. Instead of receding, fear rose up his neck until it strangled him. An instinctual need to run gripped him. Jace reached for the IV needle in the back of his hand, but before he could jerk it out, someone grabbed his wrist.

“Jace,” Aggie said. “It’s okay. Do you remember what happened? You’re in the hospital.”

He knew he was in the fucking hospital, and he needed to get out. Immediately. Years ago, a counselor had told him that he had post-traumatic stress disorder, but somehow, putting a name to it didn’t make it easier to deal with when it caught him off guard and sent him into a panic. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of his mother’s death. A long time since the traumas of his youth had controlled his reactions to the outside world. He’d thought he’d moved beyond this bullshit—apparently not.

“Aggie,” he said, grabbing her with both arms and pulling her against him on the bed. He hugged her as tight as he could, which didn’t seem nearly tight enough. “Aggie, you have to get me out of here.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurt. You can’t leave.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, which he vaguely recognized as throbbing dully in pain.

“I have to leave. Right now.”

“Let go. You’re going to damage your shoulder.”

He had no idea what she meant. “Aggie, please.”

“I’ll talk to your doctor.”

“They can’t keep me here against my will.” He released her reluctantly, and she stared into his eyes. She cupped his cheek and offered him a sad smile.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “I’ll take it away.” She kissed his lips tenderly. “Take it.”

Chapter 23

Jace opened his eyes to absolute darkness. His body was on fire. His throat drier than a saltine in the Mojave Desert. What had woken him? His bladder protested its fullness. Oh. The glow of the streetlight outside his apartment and the comforting purr of Brownie near his pillow sank into his addled thoughts. He was home? How had he gotten home? A warm hand rested on his belly. Oh yeah. Aggie.

God, he had to pee. He felt for the edge of the bed, rolled to his feet, and immediately hit the floor with a loud thud. Pain radiated through his shoulder and arm. Fuck, getting shot hurt, and not with that sweet, stinging agony he so enjoyed.

“Jace?” Aggie’s concerned voice came from the bed above him. She switched on a lamp and peered over the edge of the mattress. “Are you okay?”

He lay on the floor, simultaneously breathing through his pain and trying not to laugh so he didn’t piss himself. “Can you help me up? I need to get to the bathroom.”

So much for rescuing his damsel in distress. She’d done most of the rescuing, and now she was going to have to help him take a piss. Some hero I am.

Aggie climbed from the bed and hefted him to his feet. He clutched the chest of his hospital gown with one hand and held on to Aggie with the other. Apparently, those wonderful pain meds they’d dripped into him in the hospital had worn off.

“You’re burning up, baby,” Aggie said.

“I’m freezing.”

“We’ve got to get you back to the hospital,” she said. “If you get an infection—”

“No, I don’t need a hospital. I need a toilet.”

He leaned heavily on her as she helped him out of the bedroom and to the bathroom next door. He tried to get his balance, but decided without her support, he’d soon find himself on the floor again. He’d never felt so woozy.

“I can’t stay on my feet without you,” he whispered.

“Just go,” she insisted. “It won’t bother me.”

She helped him keep the hospital gown out of the way as he mostly hit the toilet. He couldn’t help but sigh with relief as he drained his bladder. His eyes rolled into his head in bliss. Aggie chuckled. When he’d finished, she helped him back to the bedroom and tucked him into bed.

“Thirsty,” he murmured, almost asleep again. Just the walk to the bathroom had sapped his energy.

She shook him awake and pressed a bottle to his lips. “Jace, you have to drink.”

When had he fallen asleep again?

“Jace? Please drink, baby.”

“Aggie?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Take a drink. Come on.”

The first swallow hurt going down, but then he couldn’t get enough. He chugged the icy sports drink until the bottle was empty, and then shivered uncontrollably. Why was he so cold? Aggie stood and started to leave him alone.

“Stay,” Jace whispered.

“I was going to get you another blanket.”

“Stay.”

She sat beside him, her fingers stroking his cheek. He could feel himself drifting back into oblivion, but wanted to keep his eyes open—wanted to look at her. He missed looking at her when they were apart, and they’d been apart far too long while he’d been touring last month. Aggie sniffed. A lone tear slipped down her cheek and dripped off the edge of her jaw.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured.

“This is my fault. If you’d never met me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I’d never met you, I would have never gotten to hold you. I’ll take the bullet.”

He hadn’t meant to make her cry harder. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. Her body quaked with sobs as she clung to him. “Don’t die on me, Jace, please.”

“Not planning to.”

He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but his exhaustion had reached absolute, and he had no choice but to succumb to it.

Chapter 24

The next time Jace opened his eyes, a bright light was shining in his face. “Ah good, you’re awake.” A blurry face came into focus. At first he thought it was Trey, but the man was older and lacked Trey’s long bangs and face piercings.

“Doctor Mills?”

“I don’t usually do house calls.”

Well, of course not. He was a frickin’ plastic surgeon. What in the hell was he doing here anyway?

“Your friends think you’re on death’s door, but you’re just healing. No signs of infection. You are anemic and dehydrated, but you’ll recover.”

“I feel like shit.”

“Not that any of you kids ever listen to me, but you really need a blood transfusion and a month of uninterrupted bed rest. Preferably in a hospital, in case there are complications with your recovery.”

“Can Aggie take care of my complications?” He chuckled.

“This is no joking matter,” Aggie said from the opposite side of the room. He might have watched what he said if he’d known she was there. “He will stay in bed and rest, Doctor. You have my guarantee. I know fifteen ways to tie a man.”

Doctor Mills chuckled. “I bet you do.”

“I can’t spend a month in bed. We have three shows next week. In Canada.”

“Then you’ll be playing your bass from your bed,” Aggie said.

“Don’t worry,” Eric said. “I’ve got the perfect solution.”

Eric? Just how many people were in the room?

Jace lifted his head, his eyes scanning the room. Aggie, Brian, Trey, Sed, Eric, and Doctor Mills. Okay, all the guys were there witnessing firsthand how pathetic and helpless he was. Jace lowered his head to the pillow with a groan.

“What kind of perfect solution?” Sed asked.

“I asked Jon to stand in for Jace for a few shows,” Eric said cheerfully. “He said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jon? Jon Mallory? Sinners’ previous bassist, the sun rises and sets over his fingers, the only bassist who could ever properly fill Eric’s drum progressions, Jon Mallory?

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Sed said. “Good thinking, Eric.”

Fuckin’ A. Shoot me now.

Jace lifted a hand to cover his eyes. A burst of pain stabbed the back of his shoulder and snaked down his right arm, reminding him he’d already been shot.

Well then… shoot me again.

“You rest up, and we’ll see how you are when we get back from Canada,” Sed said.

“Fuck that. I’m coming with you,” Jace said. There was no way in hell he was letting Jon Mallory tour in his place without him there.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, little man?” Eric said.

Aggie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’ll have me to take care of him until he gets better. If he’s going, then I’m going.”

Chapter 25

Despite Doctor Mills’s assessment of Jace’s condition, Aggie made him go to a hospital for a more thorough examination while the band and crew prepared for the next, extended leg of their tour. A blood test, MRI, and IV of enriched fluids later, Aggie seemed satisfied that Jace was okay to travel. He wasn’t used to having a woman as a fixture in his life. Wasn’t sure how to react to her constant hovering and concern. He hoped he healed quickly so she’d knock it off already. And she’d made him go shopping. Sure, her suitcase had been stolen, and she needed clothes and other necessities, but shopping? Jace hated shopping. Almost as much as he hated that pitying look she kept giving him.

“Maybe you should just stay at my place while I’m gone,” Jace said, leaning heavily on the shopping cart as they ambled through the aisles. She’d tried to get him to use one of those electric scooters when they’d first entered the store. Next, she’d ask him to hand over his balls on a plate. “I promise I’ll take it easy.”

“You don’t want me to go on tour with you?”

He trod carefully into loaded-question territory. “It’s not that I don’t want you to go with me.” The guys are going to rip on me constantly if I bring a smothering chick on tour. And this whole go on tour “thing” had been her idea, not his. He didn’t get why she insisted on it so vehemently. He knew she needed a break from her mother, but she didn’t have to ride on the tour bus to get away from her. “I just think you’d be more comfortable at my place. You’d still be away from your mother, and Brownie would love the company.” He rubbed his jaw on his shoulder to catch sight of her expression. Was she buying it? That would be a negative. She stared at the shampoo display with her pretty face twisted in a harsh scowl.