That was ridiculous. I knew it was. If the stubborn ass made his tumor bleed, likely he wouldn’t even notice. Likely it would be microscopic. No way he’d collapse. My brain was way out of line, and all the week’s nightmares had been over the top— trying to round up a specialist for Griffin while he choked and they were too busy on the phone with someone else; Griffin dying in Wellhaven; kneeling at his grave next to Alice’s.
I’d pushed Mom to finally get therapy and find a way to get past losing Alice. Maybe a little therapy wouldn’t be bad for me too.
Either way, I was here now. A night’s sleep, and I’d have a new adventure and a new friend. Butler Collins was playing tomorrow night and I wouldn’t hate being in the audience to hear them live. I could imagine Yolanda screaming the lyrics at my side. Back in college, I’d gone to some shows with friends, and maybe that energy would get me out of the funk I was in.
Speaking of Yolanda. I pulled out my phone, powered up, and stared at the message list. A new one from Griffin.~On the road from LA in the band bus. I’ll let you know when we arrive safely.
The man couldn’t take a hint, and yet… and yet, I’d been grateful to know his plane hadn’t crashed, his friends hadn’t gotten drunk and set their house on fire. I’d lose a little tension when I knew he’d finished the eleven-hour drive intact. He had a pro driver and a giant bus and I shouldn’t fucking care anymore, but yeah, I’d Googled the long route he’d take, while sitting in the Denver airport, and who was I kidding? I’d always care.
And if I wasn’t going to block his damned number, then maybe I could use it for something. Before I could think better of it, I texted,~Are you playing Wipeout? If so, can you dedicate it to a friend of mine named Yolanda?
An answer pinged back faster than I could’ve expected.~Yes. Absolutely.And then,~Anything.
Anything except not sing at all. Anything except skip the concert to protect his health.
Although… here I was, asking him to sing, requesting ‘Wipeout’ because his work meant a lot to someone I’d just met. Sure, it was too late to change his mind about performing, so this wasn’t me signing off on his recklessness. Still, the dichotomy made my head hurt.
I decided my stomach was unsettled enough to skip dinner. A long, hot shower and a bed sounded like heaven. I had a few plane snacks left in my bag. They’d do. I’d read a good book and get some shut-eye and not think about Griffin Marsh for many, many hours.
That resolution shouldn’t have worked, but somehow, it did. My dreams that night were nebulous, Griffin-free, as I wandered an alien landscape where unseen dangers lurked in the shadows waiting for me. After one particularly weird episode, I grabbedmy phone to check the time and saw I’d missed a text from Griffin.
~Safely arrived in Black Rock. Wish you were here.
I had a moment of absurd impulse to text back and say,~I am here and I can’t sleep worth a damn. Come hug me.Thing was, I was pretty sure he would come. And if I let Griffin hug me again, I’d be totally fucked.
So I set my phone down, rolled on my other side, and tried to go back to sleep.
Chapter 21
Griffin
“Great crowd.” Pete thumped my shoulder as we stood behind the stage listening to the reverberations of applause for the previous performance. The thunder-rolls of clapping and stomping and the screaming voices stirred my blood, echoes of some of the very best moments of my life.
“Yeah. I heard they broke attendance records.” Zoe grinned, wide eyes showing her excitement. “An outdoor fest like this never gets fucking old.”
The band ahead of me began breaking down their setup, and Pete’s head roadie gestured to his minions to get ready with our gear.
“Thanks, all of you,” I said, scanning the band members standing around me. “I can’t wait to get up there with you.”
“Like old times,” Pete said. “I still remember that first show we opened for you. I was about ready to shit my pants with how big the audience was. You came out and introduced us, and stepped back to sing backing vocals on the first song. And holy shit, they screamed. Like, we could literally do no wrong after that. We got two encores.”
“You were just that good,” I told him. “I really didn’t need to be there, even for one song.” I’d offered, seeing how nervousthey’d been, but they hadn’t actually needed me. “I just wanted to ride your rocket into stardom.”
“Bullshit. You were the guy they were all there to see. We were totally unknown.”
“Not after that night.”
“No.” We exchanged looks of satisfaction.
“That was my favorite tour ever,” I told him as the roadies began filing past us, setting up the gear on the darkened stage.
“Good times.” Pete nudged me. “We’ve missed you. Don’t be such a stranger, huh? I’m glad we get to do this.”
I hadn’t been fit company for anyone recently. Might not be in the future if— I cut that thought off. No ifs tonight. No doubts, no regrets. I was going to sing my fucking head off and whatever came tomorrow, I wasn’t going to doubt this moment. Sure, I wished Lee was in the audience. Could’ve used a hug for luck. I hoped he was doing something fun, not imagining me stepping on stage and catastrophizing everything that could go wrong. On impulse, I pulled out my phone and messaged him.~Thinking of you tonight.
My phone went dark with no reply. I turned it off and stuffed it away. No more time. The mic was waiting.
We climbed the stairs and found our marks. Pete Lebraun and Chaser Lost were playing backup for me tonight, and if anything was a sign I’d done something right with my life, that was it.And Lee’s not talking to you. So you obviously did something wrong, too.
