His shoulders shook, and his gut ached from holding in his grief.
Wake up you selfish bastard.
Two meaty hands landed one on each of his shoulders. Without looking up, he knew it was Keys and Derringer offering support. One squeezed, the other was just there for support. Yeah, he had biological family, but he was too big of a sinner for them to love him. It’d been years since he’d talked to any of them. These guys and Sam were his only kinfolk.
They’re the best a guy could have, better than I deserve.
Wiping his eyes with his fingertips, he glanced up. Tab sniffled, but peered out the window, and by all appearances he guessed he’d got her to crying again.
“Sorry guys. Thought I had it under control.”
“No problem, man.” Keys squeezed his shoulder again.
“Better to let it out than fall under the weight after it’s built up.” Derr elevated his dark eyebrows. Sage advice from his bass guitarist.
“Yeah. Just…seeing him hurt like that….” Emotions clogged his sinuses again, and he shook his head.
“I understand.” Keys released him. “I hugged Sam in the room because if I didn’t, I was going to be bawling with her. She’s a pretty crier. I’m not. I get a blotchy red nose and… oh, wait, that’s Derringer. I am a pretty crier.”
“Fuck you, bitch.” There was humor in Derr’s voice, and Heath grinned. Leave it to Keys to try and cheer them all up.
Sam lay on her side beside Jase in the bed. Time moved much too slowly in the hospital. The random clicking of the medical equipment had agitated her yesterday, serving as a cold reminder of the precarious situation Jase dallied in. Each new noise the monitors made incited panic. Each time, Heath had calmed her with a touch. A kiss to the forehead, a stroke to the arm, a gentle hug, or holding her hand. She’d never been in love before, but this feeling was amazing.
Worried about her brother had made sleeping difficult last night. At least she’d had Heath beside her on the pull out cot. Not much room, but she’d found comfort just being held in his arms.
A little after six in the morning, a parade of medical personnel had invaded their sleep. First the nurse to get vitals—like they hadn’t bugged him enough through the wee hours, but with a shift change came a new nurse. Her brother’s physician had come next.
“No change,” he said.
No shit, she thought. She didn’t need a medical degree to realize he remained in a coma.
“What about the hospital transfer I requested or the security?”
The balding man who held the build of a runner had pulled himself to his full height and peered down his nose at her. She supposed that made him feel superior. A genius wasn’t needed to discern he thought very little of her. She felt the same toward him.
Pompous asshole!
“He’s receiving satisfactory medical care here.” Could he sound any stuffier? Any more self-important? Sheesh! She lived with the vanity of rock stars, and he made them seem humble.
“Satisfactory isn’t good enough for Jase.”
White lines crinkled outward from his tightening lips. He ignored her comment. “We are suitably staffed, and I assure you no one will get past our I.C.U. nursing station. There is a security guard stationed there.”
Pfft…Sam knew how money tempted folks to turn a blind eye. And their sorry excuse for a security guard was as lanky as Barney Fife. She held serious doubts he could defeat a spider.
“Doc”—she’d figured out he hated that insolent designation when he’d corrected her repeatedly the first dozen times she dropped the word—“you’re obviously ignorant of the dedication of fans and reporters. They’ll scale the fucking building to get in.”
He winced at her crass language, and she mentally grinned at getting under his skin. “Considering we’re on the eighth floor, I highly doubt that.”
Sam snorted. She and the doc weren’t slotted to be BFF’s.
She wasn’t budging on either request and had a call into Jase’s attorney. The pretentious bastard would learn he wasn’t dealing with the average patient.
Today she’d talked to Keys’ father—that man was so cultured and smooth talking he had a way of making her feel inferior even while he treated her like royalty. In the communication he’d assured her there’d be a transfer soon. With that man and Omega pulling strings, she had faith they’d be elsewhere in the next few days. He always got what he wanted. She learned legacies talked more than money or fame. People jumped to do their bidding without any guarantee of reimbursement or obligation.
“Want something from the cafeteria?” Heath ran the back of his knuckles down her arm, drawing her from her thoughts. Without his solid foundation yesterday, she’d have lost herself to her overwhelming fear.
“A BuzzMe would be great.”
“What about some food, brat? You haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you didn’t eat all your banana then.”
Sweet that he took notice of little things like her dietary needs. Weird that she thought it was charming. Sam couldn’t have said what she ate last or when. Her only concern was getting her brother well.
“You monitoring my eating today, daddy?” She infused as much sass as she could into the question.
He buzzed her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “I know you. When you worry you forget to eat, forget to take care of yourself. That’s where I come in.”
Why do I find that hot?
“Your energy drink might give you the oomph you want, but not the nutrition you require.”
“BuzzMe is nutritious. It says so right on the can.” She held up the purple and green cylinder from earlier. “See… ‘real fruit juice added’.”
He chuckled, a rich seductive sound that did a number on her libido. Now was not the time. She felt a little bit guilty for wanting to drag him into the bathroom and get down and dirty with him while Jase fought for his life.
“Word of sage advice… don’t believe everything you see, read, or hear.” In a stage whisper he added, “False marketing.”
“Hmm…guess that means I shouldn’t believe you love me.”
Heath swooped in, yanked her off the bed straight into his embrace, and nabbed her lips with his. The kiss he delivered left her breathless and needy. She clutched his hair off his forehead and anchored it on top of his head, curled between her fingers. Her forearms bracketed each side of his face. She squeezed closer to him, flattening her breasts against his chest. Gawd, she loved the way he kissed her. Like he was oxygen starved and she was the purest air that he needed to ingest to survive, no other would do.
“Believe everything I tell you.” His palm skimmed down her forearm as he feathered his lips across hers, his eyes open and gauging her. “You are my music, Sam.”
Translation: music was his world, his life, his only love. And he likened his emotions for her to his obsession. That infused her with the feelings of love more than anything else he could’ve declared.
“Heath….” She closed her eyes and endeavored to wrangle her lust under control. “I want you so bad.”
He dragged his jaw across cheek. As he whispered in her ear, he clutched her bottom and held her steady as he rocked his pelvis against her. “The feeling is mutual.”
He is as hard as I am wet. “Fang would take me, and the brat I normally am would let you, but we’re seriously fucked up for even thinking about sex with my brother in critical condition.”
Heath glanced at Jase. He kissed her forehead and released her after a long moment. “For the record, Jase has very little morals. He’d be in the bathroom already—if we’re lucky he’d be that discreet, but you can be damn sure he’d be banging his chick if he was as turned on as we are.”
“I’m not indiscriminate like Jase.”
“Thank the fuck for that.” He drew her in for another slow kiss that curled her toes and had her clutching him closer than before.
She was panting when he drew away. Eyes heavy lidded she coveted his mouth. Fantasies inspired by
reality X-marked the areas of her body she wanted those lips on.
“One BuzzMe coming up.”
It took Sam a second to process the statement. He was halfway to the door with her admiring his ass in his snug jeans when she realized he planned to vacate the room. Who needed a BuzzMe when Heath did the job of jazzing her up quicker than a drink?
She shook her head and climbed back into the bed next to Jase as the door snicked shut behind him. “We’re going to have a long serious talk about Heath when you wake up, Jase. I wish you could experience how he makes me feel, then you’d understand why I have to be with him, why I can’t just walk away without giving him a shot.”
Sam adjusted the I.V. so she didn’t accidently snatch it out of his arm and lay on her side facing her sibling. His long hair peeked from beneath the head bandages. She ignored the bruising and lacerations. They’d mend. She needed his head trauma to heal first.
“There’s enough of me to share, ya know? I’ve got a big heart. I can love two men at once. Loving Heath doesn’t mean I can’t love you too.” A spike in the beeping and she eyed the brain waves, but couldn’t make out heads or tails of what it indicated. The hoity-toity doc implied those spikes designated nothing, but she liked to believe they signaled Jase heard her. “No one will ever take the place of my big brother. You’re the best. Do you seriously think anyone could be as awesome as you?”
Tears distorted her vision, and she blinked them back. She wanted to hug him to express her devotion to him, but feared making his injuries worse. She kissed his shoulder and loosely laced their fingers together.
The bull Jase had said about them hurting one another… maybe she and Heath eventually would, but she thought what he really worried about was losing one of them. Or losing Heath to be exact. As his sister, she knew her value in his life. “Heath is still your best friend. I don’t want to come between that.”
But I will…I have. Their old, sordid habits had died because of her. The fame had turned Jase a touch narcissistic, but there was no way he was this self—
The flashing of bulbs went off, momentarily blinding her. Blinking, Sam lifted her arm to shield her eyes as she rolled off the bed. An auburn haired girl near her age snapped photos with her cellphone.
Clickclickclick… flashflashflash—
“Who let you in?” Morbid bitch invaded their privacy and took photographs of her severely injured brother. What type of person did that?
Fans, of course. She’d told the doc this would happen!
More snapshots went off.
Clickclickclickclick… flashflashflashflash—
Bright lights dotted her vision, and Sam swung in the direction of the girl, managing to connect with her wrist bone. The phone popped up and out of the stranger’s grasp. The device hit the floor with a clatter. They scrambled for it, and somehow Sam got to the cell first.
“That’s mine! Give it back or I’ll charge you with theft!”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve been charged with theft or got out of it.” Proud she sounded cool as ice while she seethed inside. In between the white specks distorting her vision, she pressed a button and pulled up the pictures. “You’re trespassing.”
“It’s a public hospital.”
“Only family is allowed in I.C.U.” She quickly deleted the images and removed the others of Heath, Keys and Derringer that were on the camera roll, ones the girl had gotten of them outside the hospital. “You’re one sick bitch sneaking into a man’s hospital room like this.”
“Give me my phone or I’ll sue you.”
Ha! Sue me? Indeed!
“Go right ahead. I’ll counter sue you.” She had no idea for what, but she was sure Jase’s attorney could come up with something good. “Wonder whose checkbook will buy the better attorney?” Sam dropped the cell on the floor and slapped her hand over her mouth with a dramatic, “Oops.”
As the girl moved to pick it up, Sam put the heel of her boot into the device. The girl screeched her indignation. Sam plucked her phone from her pocket and walked to the door. She blocked the exit and flattened the cell to her ear. To the intruder, she said, “Try to leave, and I’ll assault you. That’s another charge you can add to your lawsuit. Oh and don’t forget false imprisonment or kidnapping… whichever one works best for ya.”
Heath returned to chaos. Ten minutes. He’d left her alone ten minutes and trouble found her. He should’ve been surprised she discovered trouble in I.C.U., but wasn’t.
One of the two officers present brought him up to speed lickety-split while Sam screeched at the doctor and their hospital caseworker.
“I bet you were in on this, weren’t you?” Good and worked up, she’d resorted to making accusations she couldn’t back up even if she was probably correct. Toe-to-toe with the male once again, her demeanor alone should’ve dared him to lie.
“I assure you, Ms. Collins, I had nothing to do with this.” The man had a serious stick up his ass. “Mr. Collins’ health and safety are priority one to me.”
“Fucking liar. You’re such a pussy, you don’t have the balls to tell me the truth.” Heath recognized she’d reached one of those moments where she’d lost control, and she’d never learned how to reign herself back in when she reached that level.
He also understood her anger. A stranger had managed to get into Jase’s room after the doctor had assured them Jase would be safe! None of them wanted photos like this out there for the press and fans to obsess over. Jase wouldn’t want them in the public eye either. His vanity couldn’t endure it. Worse case scenario… what if the intruder had been a stalker or a psycho instead of a fan wanting photos. Those thoughts did nothing to alleviate his anger.
Heath captured the back of Sam’s neck and squeezed, serving as a subtle warning. Good thing she had him as a sedative or she’d be a permanent resident in county lock-up.
“She’s emotional, this is upsetting, and adding this insult on top of an already stressful situation—I’m sure you can understand why she’s tossing out unfounded allegations.”
He knew the only reason she held her tongue was because of his hold on her nape.
The doctor’s long pause rubbed Heath wrong, but when he finally spoke, his demeanor did nothing to eradicate his agitation. “Of course.”
“That personal guard we wanted stationed outside the door. You see the need for him now, right?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fangor. He’ll be in the way of personnel.” The man seriously wanted to take this route?
“Then you you’ll be happy to explain that stance to our attorney?” Sam elevated her cell.
Jase’s lawyer’s voice emerged from the phone, “I cannot wait to hear this excuse.”
So that’s why she’d remained silent. The spitfire had been dialing.
The physician paled, but that was when things started getting done.
Two days into the coma Jase’s prognosis hadn’t altered. Heath sat on the sofa-bed in Jase’s room with Sam lounging in his arms resting. The news showcased the memorial the fans erected for Jase outside the hospital. Flowers and homemade cards were left near a cross with Jase’s name. Candles were lit and illuminating the monument. The video feed showed fans praying and crying.
One of the local Catholic churches held a vigil for fans to offer prayers. Ironic since Jase wasn’t Catholic, but had been raised Church of God, a holier and more devout religion than even Southern Baptists. They had some pretty farfetched beliefs, and the Collins family had abided by them. At least all of the Collins except Jase, who’d been demonstrating his wild side at the time. Not that that wild streak had been eliminated since.
Once when he’d attended service with Jase and Sam, the preacher had begun to speak in tongues, and a parishioner had ‘fallen out in the grace of Christ’. The experience had been eye-opening. He’d been amused by the way Sam had sung loudly and off key, holding her arms high and praising God.
The reporter panned to an attendee who had the gall to suggest God chastised Jase
for living in sin. Disgust roiling in his belly, Heath turned off the television.
Through the window he spied Tex guarding the door. Omega stood at the door chitchatting with the man. He’d shown up within a few hours of their arrival the first day and refused to leave. He calmed Sam, kept her focus off Jase’s injuries, which was a plus in Heath’s book.
His cell vibrated in his pocket. Careful not to disturb Sam, he shifted to his right hip just slightly so he could dig his phone out. Caller I.D. identified the caller as ‘unknown’, but Heath answered it anyway with a curt “Yeah,” while praying a rag reporter hadn’t discovered his private number.
“Heath?”
He searched his memory bank for the identity behind the female voice. “Yeah.”
“I guess you prefer to be called Fang now.” Cultured southern tone.
Sam stirred, and he tightened his arm around her shoulder. “Who is this?”
“It’s….” A tense second and she said on a rush, “It’s your mom.”
Shocked his parent reached out to him, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d have been less surprised had Satan himself initiated contact. Running his jaw along the top of Sam’s head to confirm this was no hallucination, he kept his voice low and detached. “Is there a reason for your call?”
How the hell did she get my number?
When the band got their deal six years ago, his mother had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with a sinner—aka damned rocker. There was no place in the Fangor family tree for a musician.
“An embarrassment to the Fangor name.” That’s what she’d said. “I’d thought this phase would pass. Had prayed it would, but I can see how the devil’s got his claws into you good.”
Hurtful words a mother should never say to her child.
They were a middle-class family in a small town that struggled to pretend they were more than they were. Had they supported him, Heath would’ve lifted them from their day-to-day struggles. They’d have gone from one-pay-check-away from poverty to millionaires almost overnight. He’d have fed his mother’s need to be someone. Instead, she’d feared how his choices reflected on her ‘good’ Christian reputation and had shunned him.
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