Ryder’s doing great, but he hasn’t resolved anything with Noel or met his brothers yet although he did write back to them, and they are sharing regular messages and emails now. The Ren issue is still a noose around our neck, too, but I refuse to think any negative thoughts tonight, because this is a time to celebrate.
The band booked a small, exclusive venue for the show tonight. There were only one thousand tickets available, and they raffled two hundred tickets that were given out to members of their fan club. The other tickets sold at premium value with all proceeds going to the charity. The Cory Barnes Foundation will now be the sole beneficiary of the funds raised from the annual Torment charity concert too.
Fans line all roads leading to the venue, and a couple of press helicopters hovers in the skies overhead when we arrive. My eardrums protest loudly when Ryder helps me out of the limo to deafening roars and excited screams and shouts. The band members wave to their fans and pose for a few quick pictures before they’re ushered inside.
I make my way to the private area secured for family and friends with Linda, Kayla, Mike, and a couple of other bodyguards. Savage Mania is playing a few numbers before Torment headlines, and it’s their first official gig since they signed with the label. The guys pull off an incredible opener, and the enthusiastic crowd gives them a standing ovation when they finish.
My heart almost bursts with pride when they play the song I wrote for them, and it’s definitely a moment I will cherish for the rest of my life. I’m working with them and another new sign-up on another couple of songs.
It seems Ryder’s determined to make all my dreams come true.
As if I needed additional reasons to love my husband.
The audience almost lifts the roof off when Torment appears, and I’m screaming and shouting along with them. Watching Ryder on stage is hypnotizing. It’s so easy to tell he’s in his happy place when he’s up there, serenading the crowd with his sultry voice, heartfelt lyrics, and flawless guitar playing. The songs from the new album are a big hit, and I especially love “Rewrite Our History,” the song he wrote and dedicated to me. They play a pared-down acoustic version of it tonight with Ryder on guitar and Scott on the drums, and there isn’t a dry eye in the house.
After the show is finished, I rush backstage to congratulate my husband. He swings me up into his arms—no mean feat with the extra weight I’m carrying—kissing me all over my face. His joy is contagious, and I’m grinning ear to ear when he finally puts me back down. They crack open a few bottles of bubbly, sharing the celebration with Savage Mania. I nudge Ryder in the ribs when I spot him glaring at Gus. “Stop that!”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he purrs, wrapping his arms around my belly from behind and whispering in my ear. “I love winding him up any chance I get.”
“You’re terrible.” I roll my eyes, but I’m grinning. Gus raises his glass to me from the other side of the room, waiting until Ryder looks up before blowing me a kiss. I crack up laughing. “I think you might have met your match with Gus.”
Ryder chuckles. “He’s actually a good guy, and we’re good. Don’t worry, baby.”
We head out of the venue via the front entrance because the guys want to spend a little time thanking the fans outside. It’s dark out, but the lights of the venue illuminate the substantial crowd outside.
I hang back with Linda and Kayla, surrounded by bodyguards, as we watch our men working the crowd. I’m not even mad at the women who make blatant grabs for my husband or the ones who try to pull his head around for a kiss. Ryder effortlessly deflects their advances, and I know their love for him helped both of us through the rougher times. It’s helped put things in perspective.
The groupies, now, are a completely different matter, but until they go on tour, I don’t have to worry about that threat yet. And I trust my husband one thousand percent to stay faithful to me so I’m not losing sleep over it.
I’m smiling as I scan the crowd when a little flash captures my attention. A flickering light draws my eyes to a man standing in the middle of the crowd, staring at me. All the blood drains from my face as I instantly recognize him from the sneaky photograph Ryder took one time at a drop-off. His lips are curved into a sneer as he waves at me, intentionally ensuring I see him. But it’s the raised gun in Ren’s hand that scares me the most because he’s aiming it directly at Ryder.
“Ryder!” I act on instinct, pushing past Mike and racing toward Ryder, trying to keep my eyes trained on Ren as I run. I’m screaming Ryder’s name as he looks up, his eyes popping wide when he sees the alarm on my face. “Ren!” I yell. Ryder jerks his head around in the direction of my pointed finger as Mike barks out orders to the crowd. People start screaming and running in all directions, and it’s complete chaos. I’m only a few feet away from Ryder when Ren twists around, angling the gun in my direction.
Intense pain explodes in my chest, rippling through my body as I fall backward. My hands instinctively cover my belly as my body impacts something hard. A blanket of darkness sweeps across my eyes right before I lose consciousness.
CHAPTER 43
Ryder
I whip my head around when Zeta screams Ren’s name, horror engulfing me as I lock eyes with my nemesis. I’m turning to run toward my wife when Ren switches his focus, directing the gun at Zeta. “No!” I roar, shoving Gar and Micah aside to get to my wife.
A shot rings out, as if in isolation, because I hear it so clearly despite the panicked cries of the crowd. My heart slows down as I watch the bullet enter my wife’s body. Watch her glazed eyes flicker in and out as she tumbles to the ground. Mike reaches her before me, catching her head in his lap before it impacts the ground. I barely hear the gunshots being traded behind me, and I’ve no concern for my own safety. I have single-minded focus: Get to my wife and baby.
I drop to my knees when I reach them. Mike is cradling Zeta’s head in his lap, his fingers pressed to the pulse point in her neck as he screams down the phone.
“Zeta, baby, can you hear me?” I’m trembling as I take hold of my wife’s hand. Her skin feels cold, and I’m terrified. Blood oozes out of the wound in her chest, and I press my hands over it in a feeble attempt to stop the flow.
“Let me through! I’m a doctor!!” I lift my head up at the sound of his voice.
“Mike!” I nod in Noel’s direction. “Get him over here now.”
He nods, signaling to his guy to let my father through. “Ambulance is on its way.”
Noel sinks to his knees beside me, looking into my face. “Don’t look at me!!” I yell. “Look at her! Help her!” Blood continues to leak from her chest, coating my fingers.
He takes Zeta’s pulse and leans his ear down over her mouth. “Her pulse is weak, but she’s still breathing.” Removing a bunch of gauze out of his medical bag, he hands it to me. “Put this over the wound and keep pressure on it.” I place the wadded-up bandages over her chest, pressing down hard as instructed. “Someone get me a blanket!” Noel hollers, looking in the direction of the small group of staff who has gathered at the entrance to the venue.
I touch her cheek with a bloody finger. “Zeta, please hold on. Please don’t leave me. I need you. Our baby needs you.” Sirens blare, getting closer, and I pray to a God I long stopped believing in, begging him not to take my wife and my baby.
A young girl rushes over with a thin blue blanket. Noel thanks her before covering Zeta with it while I continue to put pressure on the wound. “Can you check the baby?” I plead.
He pulls a stethoscope out of his bag, shielding Zeta with his body as he gently rolls her dress up, placing the instrument on her bare belly. He listens for a few minutes, his brow furrowing, and I will the ambulance to hurry the fuck up. His eyes dart to mine, and a lump the size of a rock forms at the back of my throat. I can’t even form words.
“The heartbeat is elevated. The baby could be in distress.”
&nbs
p; “But he’s alive?” Mike asks, and I’ve never been more grateful because I couldn’t force the words out.
Noel nods. “Yes, but we need to get her to hospital asap.”
A flurry of activity at the other end of the venue draws my eye, and I almost collapse at the sight of the EMS medics running toward us. Behind them, I spot several police cars pulling up to the scene.
I step aside, feeling utterly useless and completely destroyed, as the medical personnel converse with Noel, and they get Zeta onto a stretcher. “Go.” Mike pushes me forward. “I’ll talk to the police and handle whatever needs to be handled, and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Ren?” I croak.
“Dead. Denver shot him.”
I can’t even feel any relief because I feel dead inside myself, but I force myself to snap out of it, locking my emotions up because my wife and child need me to be strong.
Zeta doesn’t regain consciousness in the ambulance, and as I hold her hand, looking at her pale skin, the blood covering her immobile body, and the tubes and wires she’s hooked up to, I pray like I’ve never prayed before.
At the hospital, they whisk her away from me, and I’m left pacing the hallway, alone with my fears until Rod and the guys arrive. Rod takes charge, getting us moved to a private waiting room, away from prying bystanders. I’m going out of my mind with worry, and no one will tell me a fucking thing.
When Noel arrives with a tall boy I’m guessing is Wilder, I rush toward him. “They won’t tell me anything. I don’t know what’s going on!” My voice is cracked, my emotions veering all over the place as my mind wanders to places I don’t want it to go to.
Tentatively, he places his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out. I know it’s hard, but try to keep calm.” He looks at the boy at his side. “I know this isn’t the time or place, but your brother wanted to come. This is Wilder. Wes is gone back to the hotel with my wife.”
I swallow hard, looking at my brother for the first time, urging Noel to leave with a flash of my eyes.
“I’m sorry about what happened, and I hope Zeta’s okay,” he says in a surprisingly deep voice.
“Thanks. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.” I scrub a hand across my chin. “What were you all doing there?”
“We came to watch the show.” His eyes light up. “Man, you were fucking awesome. My mom started crying when you sang that song for Zeta.”
“I’m glad you came,” I say, surprised at the honesty of my response. “Next time, you let me know, and I’ll get you VIP tickets and backstage passes.”
“For real?” Boy looks like he might collapse with excitement.
“Of course. What good is it having a brother in a band if you don’t get special treatment?”
A strangled sound alerts me to Noel’s presence. He has tears in his eyes as he looks at both of us.
“Did you find anything out?”
He quickly composes himself. “She’s in surgery, and while she’s in critical condition, she’s stable. The doctor will come speak to you when he can.”
“And the baby?” I whisper.
His face softens. “The baby was in distress, from Zeta’s body going into shock, so they had to deliver him.”
“What? She’s only twenty-eight weeks along! Is—”
He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Your son is a fighter, Ryder. He’s in ICU, but he’s doing as well as can be expected. You can see him now if you like.”
I burst out crying. My shoulders heave as sobs wrack my body. Noel pulls me into his arms, and I let him hug me, sobbing into his shoulder as pain and relief wash through me.
“Ryder, what’s happened?” Scott asks, and I look up into the troubled faces of my bandmates and best friends.
“I have a son. Want to come see him with me?”
Noel leads us outside where a nurse escorts us up to the baby unit in the ICU ward. Gar, Micah, Scott, Noel, and Wilder surround me as I take a first look at my son. We’re not allowed into the room because they are still performing some checks, but we get to watch my little boy through the glass as he sleeps in an incubator. I press my nose to the window, taking in every little perfectly formed part of him. He is so small and so fragile looking, but as I watch the tiny rise and fall of his chest, I know he’s a fighter, a survivor, and that he’ll pull through. I’m overwhelmed with a love that’s so powerful it’s like being hit with ten thousand volts. The only other time I’ve felt such intense love, such an immediate bond, is the moment I laid eyes on his mother. I wish Zeta was here to share this experience with me, and I hate that that bastard robbed her of this moment.
Forcing all thoughts of Ren from my mind, because that asshole isn’t going to take up anymore of my headspace, I refocus on my son. While I hate seeing his tiny body hooked up to so many tubes and wires and it’s not the way I wanted our first born to come into the world, I’m so grateful he’s alive, and my heart is swollen with love for him.
Three hours later, the doctor finally appears in the waiting room, and I hold my breath, bracing myself for what I might be about to hear. Kayla hooks her arm through mine, her lower lip wobbling as she fights to hold her emotions at bay. I cling to her arm, needing to lean on her for strength.
“Your wife is out of surgery and in a stable condition,” he says, and a sliver of hope flares inside me. “We’ve removed the bullet, drained her chest, and we’re treating her with intravenous antibiotics to ward off infection. She’s going to make a full recovery.” He smiles. “She’s extremely lucky. It’s almost miraculous. Someone up there was looking out for her.”
Grateful tears leak out of my eyes. “Thank you, Doctor. Thanks so much. When can I see her?”
“She’s in recovery right now, but when we’ve moved her to her private suite, I’ll get one of the nurses to come for you.”
The nurse pops her head in the door forty minutes later, and I follow her lead like an excitable puppy. Before we enter the room, I take hold of her elbow, stalling her. “Can our son be brought here in his incubator? I know my wife will want to see him.”
“I doubt that will be possible, Mr. Stone, but I’ll ask.”
“Or else can you arrange for my wife to be brought to him. She needs to see her baby.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll see what I can do.”
I push into the room and head straight toward the bed. Zeta’s eyes are closed, and the only sound in the room is the intermittent beeping of a machine. Taking a seat by her bed, I wrap my hand around hers, grateful to feel the warmth of her skin. I lean over and kiss her forehead, content to just be with her until she wakes up.
“Ryder?” She blinks her eyes open slowly a few minutes later.
“I’m here, baby.” I squeeze her hand. “I’m right here.”
She turns her head, a frown marring her beautiful face as she takes in her surroundings. The beeping of the machine elevates as her eyes pop wide and her hand slides down to her belly. “No! Our baby!”
“He’s fine,” I rush to reassure her, standing up and leaning over her. “Our son is fine. They had to deliver him because he was in distress, but he’s okay.”
“Really? You wouldn’t lie to me?”
I shake my head. “I would never lie about something like that. He’s okay, honey. I’ve seen him. He’s tiny and so fragile looking, but he’s a fighter.” I lean in and kiss his forehead. “Just like his mom.”
“What happened?” she asks. “I just remember seeing Ren and running toward you.”
“He shot you, baby.” I lose the tenuous hold on my emotions, breaking down and sobbing, but I quickly compose myself, wanting to be strong for her. “Sorry. I was just so worried. I thought I’d lost you. Lost our baby.”
She reaches out, stroking her thumb along my cheek. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Rock Star,” she teases.
Unable to resist, I lower my mouth, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you, Zeta. So, so much.”
“Love you too, babe,” she says, stifling a yawn, fighting a battle with her heavy eyelids.
“Go back to sleep. I promise I’m going nowhere, and I’ll be right here when you wake.”
She shakes her head. “I want to see our son.”
“Rest, babe. I’ll take care of it while you sleep.”
Zeta sleeps for another few hours, and when she wakes, I help the nurse lift her into a wheelchair, and I wheel my wife over to the ICU unit our son is currently calling home.
This time, we’re allowed in, and we’re both in a flood of tears as we sit by his incubator, marveling at his tiny little hands and feet and his small but perfectly formed features.
As I wheel my sleepy wife back to her room a little while later, I wonder if the doctor is right.
If someone up there really was looking out for my family today.
And I can’t help wondering if that someone was my brother Cory.
EPILOGUE
Ryder – Five Years Later
“Your brother is as crazy as our son,” Zeta says with a laugh, holding onto my hands as we watch Wes race Zander into the sea. It’s only mid-May and the water’s still chilly, but that doesn’t stop the two clowns from charging through the placid waves like it’s sixty degrees.
Our five-year-old is a crazy little dude with a larger-than-life personality and an even bigger zest for life. Maybe it’s because of the crazy way he entered this world, but our boy is as mischievous as they come and always getting into trouble. But I wouldn’t have him any other way. He’s a free spirit. Always happy and laughing, and I hope his life always stays so care free.
I rest my chin on Zeta’s shoulder, rubbing our conjoined hands across her growing stomach. “Wes is great with him.”
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