Grace stood and wiped at her eyes and nose. “Is he okay?”
“He pulled through the surgery. The doctors would like to talk to you, though. Come with me.” She smiled and opened the door for them.
They hurried down the hall and back into the NICU where two doctors stood waiting. “Miss Evans.”
“How is he?”
“He’s doing okay. There is a small risk during the surgery of nicking or bruising the phrenic nerve, which controls the diaphragm. His diaphragm locked up on him, and he couldn’t breathe. His carbon dioxide levels were rising, and his oxygen levels were dropping. We had to do something called a diaphragm plication,” the first doctor explained.
“Okay, what’s that?” Grace asked.
“Basically, we are trying to flatten the diaphragm so the lung has more room to expand. He is breathing much better now. We will be watching for infection. I think he’s going to be okay.”
Grace sagged against her father in relief. “I was so scared.”
“I understand, and it’s going to be a little bit of a longer road for him now. I think we’ve made it through the worst of it. If you want to see him, you’re welcome to. After scrubbing, of course.” The second doctor reassured her with a gentle smile.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Grace whispered, her throat tight with emotion.
They washed up, and Damien slipped into scrubs. The NICU nurse led them back to his bed, and Grace breathed a sigh of relief to see Cain lying there, the little machines beeping and whirring. They let her know that he was with her still.
“He’s a fighter,” Damien whispered, and Grace smiled softly.
“Just like his mom.”
“Just like both of them.”
* * *
Drake blew out a slow breath as the band got ready to go on stage. This was it. Jacob’s Ladder was taking back their image and their name. The record label had no clue that they were planning on having an acoustic, real, deep show. The big wigs in L.A. would have a shit fit if they knew.
“You ready?” Toby nudged his side, and Drake gave him a thumbs up. The music from their CD swelled, and Toby grinned as he ran on stage. Drake followed the rest of the band up to the stage, and he adjusted his guitar around his neck.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Toby crooned into his mic. “We have something special for you tonight. Tonight Jacob’s Ladder is bringing you a special, once in a lifetime show. We’re unplugged. No music from the CD. No fancy dubstep, or songs we didn’t write. Tonight it’s just us and just you. We’re going to sing you some stuff from our hearts, and we hope you love it. Because we do, Japan, and we love you too!”
The crowd went wild, and Drake grinned at their response. He sat down on a stool beside Toby and waited as the mic was set up for him. “This first song is a song about falling in love and messing everything up. It’s for the woman I love, her name is Grace, and she saved me. Now I hope this song will help me save her. Grace, if you’re listening…I love you.”
Drake’s fingers moved slowly across the strings of the guitar and the rest of the band added in their accompaniments. He opened his mouth and poured his heart into the lyrics. As he sang, he imagined that Grace was sitting in front of him and he was singing directly to her. The bright lights faded away as he bled out his heart.
There was a moment of enraptured silence as the last faint, sweet notes left the guitar. Then the crowd exploded with clapping and cat calls. Drake grinned back at his band mates. “We did it.”
The show went on, more acoustic versions of songs never seen on a CD. Their fans ate it up, and with each song, the applause became louder until it was nearly deafening. The electric current flowing through the room was exhilarating and as the show ended, they took a bow, thanking their fans.
“That felt…real. Like it used to,” Toby remarked as they left the stage.
“What the hell was that shit?” their manager, Parker, yelled, his face a funny color of scarlet. “That was not what you were supposed to do! It was not the plan!”
Toby tossed the mic at him, and Parker caught it. “We’re not following the plan anymore.”
“What the hell do you mean you’re not following the plan? We’ve groomed you bastards to become the best. Now you want to go out there and sing some shitty acoustic songs? Your fans expected better!” Parker screamed, the veins in his neck protruding.
“They expected us to lip synch and sound just like the record. What they got was us. The real us. What they should’ve fallen in love with from the beginning,” Jordan retorted.
“No, the fans are idiots, they don’t know what they want. They want you to spoon feed them shit and tell them it’s filet mignon. That’s what you boys are. You’re shit pretending to be filet mignon, don’t forget that. What did you spend, ten plus years working hard to make it? You can be dropped off the scene in a blink.” Parker snapped his fingers together.
They glanced at each other and all shrugged. “I’d rather be shit and know I’m shit than pretend I’m something I’m not. We decided that we have to know the music we put out is real. We’re not giving up our souls to be famous and sing songs that aren’t us. So, we did this concert. And the next one, we’ll do the same thing,” Toby explained coolly.
“We have poured so much money into you ungrateful bastards!” Parker shrieked.
“We’ve made you plenty back. We want to sing what we just did on stage. If you don’t want that, tear up our contract, and we’ll find an indie record label that will give us freedom. It’s what we should have done from the beginning.” Drake looked to his band mates for reassurance.
“You got that shit right. We’re not sellouts. We’re Jacob’s Ladder,” Louie interjected.
“You bastards will rue what you have done!” Parker insisted, waggling his finger in their faces.
“Nope, you will.” Toby laughed. “The mic is still on.” He clapped the middle-aged man on his shoulder and leaned closer to the mic. “We love you, Japan! Don’t forget that!”
Moving through the venue, they loaded into the limo outside and headed back to the hotel. Jordan leaned back against the seat and blew out a breath. “Holy shit, that was intense. Toby man, where did you get the idea to leave the mic on?”
“I knew he’d be pissed off, and that the fans would turn on them. They’ll either give us what we want or let us go quietly now to avoid making waves. I know, I’m brilliant.” Toby grinned and puffed out his chest.
“It was amazing. Your quick thinking probably saved our asses,” Louie admitted.
“Well, you can all thank me later. I accept currency in the form of your first child being named after me, new cars. Speaking of which, Drake, my Porsche better be pristine, hot groupies being sent to my room, money. All is good.” Toby propped his hands behind his head and smirked.
“Watch out, he’s going to get a bigger head than he’s already got.” Kyle rolled his eyes.
“Which one?” Toby winked and thrust his hips suggestively.
Jordan had pulled out his phone and was staring at the screen with a funny look on his face. “Hey, Drake? You got a kid none of us know about?”
The mood became somber in the limo as all eyes swiveled to Drake. “What? No. I mean, the tabs were suggesting Grace’s son is mine. It’s her friend Christina’s kid. Why?”
“Ah, well, this got forwarded to me. This website has a pic of some girl sobbing and they’re insinuating your kid died.” Jordan held out his phone, and Drake took it.
He read through the article and fear coursed through him. “Something is wrong with Cain. I have to go to Phoenix.”
“Dude, she sent you away!” Toby reminded him.
“I don’t care. If Grace loses Cain, she’s going to be a wreck. She lost her best friend, had to watch her die. I can’t just let her be alone and lose him. I love her and regardless of her pushing me away, I’m gonna be there. I’ll be there if she wants me. Eventually, she’s going to break, and I want to be there to fix her,�
� Drake explained.
“Fuck it. Go. The band will be here. We will be here. If this is pulling you, go. None of us have someone we love like that, so I can’t say I get it. Don’t sit here and worry that we’re going to be mad. We’re not. We’ll cancel some shows, whatever. Music will be here. What you have with her won’t hang around forever. Am I right, guys?” Toby looked around the limo, and the band nodded in agreement.
“We support you.”
Drake forced back the emotions he felt and smiled instead. “You are my brothers.”
Chapter Fourteen
Drake stepped off the plane in Phoenix and slid into the limo Toby had orchestrated to be there to meet him. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in the seventeen hours in travel. Jet lag gripped him and made his eyelids leaden. The only thing he could think about was getting to Grace. If Cain died, she’s wrecked. My God, why did I let her push me away?
He’d been googling every chance he got trying to find out anything about the situation. There was no further news, and it made him sick to his stomach. The little guy had been so tiny, and he hated to think about his little life being snuffed out by the universe. He’d cried several times on the trip, and he chalked it up to exhaustion. In reality, he knew it was because he loved them. Both of them. And if he could have his way, he’d make them a family.
Cain had to be okay. He prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, promising his soul, his heart, all the money in the world if only the little boy would be okay. The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, and he drummed his fingers against his thigh in frustration. Could you drive any slower? Traffic ebbed and flowed around them, and he contemplated opening the door of the limo and running to the hospital. I might get there faster…
Finally, the limo began to move again and within half an hour, they were pulling up in front of the hospital. Drake winced as he saw the paparazzi waiting at the door. Leeches… He stepped from the car and the flash of a camera filled his eyes.
“Back up,” he growled, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
“Is your son dead?” the paparazzo asked. Drake ignored the question, rushing into the hospital. Stopping at the front desk, he asked where the neonatal ICU was. It was the only logical place the boy would be at if he was still here.
“Third floor,” she replied. “It’s after visiting hours!”
Drake took off at a dead run to the elevator, ignoring the elderly lady who yelled after him. All he could think of was making it up to the third floor and wrapping the heartbroken Grace in his arms. Nothing else mattered. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the door close button, breathing a sigh of relief that the elderly lady had stopped yelling after him.
The few seconds it took to make it to the third floor seemed to take forever. As he left the elevator, he ran to the nurse’s station outside the sliding glass doors. “Excuse me, I need to see Grace Evans.”
The pretty blonde nurse’s expression became shuttered. “I’m sorry, she’s not receiving visitors.”
“Please,” Drake begged hoarsely, his voice cracking. “I need to see her. I need to know she’s okay. I need to know Cain is okay. Please. Just ask her to come talk to me. I’ll just keep coming back until you let me.”
The nurse huffed and turned to the phone on her desk. “I’ll make a call back and see if a nurse can reach her.”
“Thank you,” Drake whispered as he gripped the edge of the counter to steady himself.
The nurse hung up the phone and pursed her lips as she swiveled back to him. “Someone will be out shortly. You can sit over there.” She pointed to a set of chairs against the wall.
Drake shuffled over to them and collapsed in one. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, leaving his hands dangling betwixt them. He noticed two men standing nearby, wearing all black, and he wondered who they were and why they were there. As the glass door slid open, he glanced up and smiled tiredly at Grace’s father.
“Damien!”
“Drake.” The older man paused a few steps away from him and crossed his arms.
“Is Cain…” He couldn’t bear to say it. “Is he okay?” He finished lamely.
Damien nodded quickly, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
“I saw an article saying he was…” Drake explained. “I flew from Japan because I knew Grace would be a wreck.”
“We’ve both seen some articles about you too. Don’t think you can come back into Grace’s life after what you did,” Damien hissed.
“What, with Lavish? Nothing happened, I was drunk. I swear on my mother. Nothing happened. The band and I thought it was all for publicity for her and our upcoming tour. None of us were happy about it. We’ve bucked our label, and I—do you really think I’d be here if I had sex with someone else? I love Grace. I have from the moment I met her. All I could think about was her being here and Cain being sick and it wrecked me. I had to get here. I left my band. I walked away from my brothers, from my career. I didn’t just decide to bed hop and come use her. I love her, Damien. With every fiber of my being. Every breath I take the exhalation whispers her name. She’s embedded in me. I want us to be a family,” Drake explained, throwing his hands wide in frustration. “You have to believe me,” he pleaded. “Please tell her I’m here. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere. You tell her that, do you hear me?”
Damien sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I hear you, and I’ll tell her. I make no promises.”
“Tell her,” Drake reiterated, pointing at the glass doors. “I’ll be right here.” As Damien walked away, Drake uttered a prayer to the God he hoped was listening to him. “Let her believe me.”
* * *
Grace peeked around the corner, and she pressed a fist to her mouth at the shell of a man she saw sitting in the chair outside the NICU. Drake looked like he hadn’t slept in days, gray circles ringed his eyes, and they looked bloodshot and weary. His shoulders slumped low and a scruff of beard covered his cheeks.
As her father turned to walk back into the NICU, she ducked behind the edge of the wall, her pulse pounding. “I know you’re there,” Damien murmured softly as he turned the corner.
“Why is he here?” she demanded, her voice low.
“The pap who was up here pretending to be your mother sold a story to someone saying Cain was dead,” Damien replied, leaning against the wall and jamming his hands in his pockets.
“What!” Grace hissed. “That’s freaking terrible!”
“Yeah, and he saw it and left his band. He walked away from their tour, Grace. He said that nothing happened with the Russian singer chick. I’m just going to say this. Not many men would come back after being pushed away. Not many men would walk away from their career for someone either. I believe that boy loves you. No, no life is perfect, and he’s got a lot of baggage. Love can make anything possible. I know I regretted not making something work with your mother. I don’t want you to go through life regretting something like that. Yes, he’s in a band and there will always be paparazzi. I understand it’s a pain in the ass. Love can make it worth it. Don’t make him choose, Grace. That’s the only thing I can tell you. Let him love you both. Music and a family. That man is sitting out there broken, running on fumes, racing from halfway around the world to make sure you’re okay. That’s love, baby girl, and if you can’t see that, then I can’t help you,” Damien finished. “Talk to him.”
“I’m scared,” Grace whispered.
“Love is scary. When I fell in love with your mother, it scared me shitless, Grace. It wasn’t the right time. We were kids. There were obstacles, and I’d give anything to go back and make it right. I can’t. All I can do is advise you and hope you don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your pride get in your way, baby. Don’t let your fear hold you back from happiness. People come in and out of our lives every day, if they stay, they’re worth holding on to,” Damien concluded.
“Thanks, Dad,” Grace murm
ured as she wiped at her tear filled eyes. “Watch Cain?”
“I won’t take my eyes off him, baby girl. He’ll be fine. Go and talk to the man, then tell him to go get some sleep. He looks like death.” Damien pulled her into a hug, and Grace closed her eyes, wishing somehow she could take some of her father’s strength with her. He released her altogether too soon and left her standing in the puce green hallway alone.
Grace ran her hands through her greasy hair and fixed her ponytail. She hadn’t left Cain’s side for more than a few minutes since his scare, only long enough to brush her teeth and get food. She looked like death warmed over. Taking a deep breath, she turned the corner and walked to the sliding glass door. Drake glanced up as the door slid open and his mouth gaped.
“Grace,” he whispered softly.
She held a finger to her lips and murmured, “Come with me.” The last time she’d been in the hallway she’d been verbally attacked by a paparazzo, and she wasn’t interested in having their conversation spread amongst the gossip rags. She didn’t even check to see if Drake followed her as she hustled down the hallway to the chapel.
Entering the quiet room, she glanced around and sighed in relief as she found it empty. “Why are you here?” she asked, sitting on a bench and motioning for him to join her.
“I love you, Grace. That’s why I’m here. Because I saw an article saying Cain was dead, and it killed me. I walked away from everything and jumped on the first plane I could to get back to you. All I could think of was you crying over Cain being gone, and it absolutely wrecked me. I love you both. I want a family with you. I want a future. I want happiness, Grace. I want that with you. It wasn’t coincidence we met at the bar that night. I believe it was fate pushing us together and pulling us apart, because neither of us were ready. I think we could be ready now. I can’t stay away from you. All I can think about is you. I wrote a song for you. I need you to know that nothing happened between Lavish and I. I was drunk, drinking away your memory. Because all I could think about was you and the kiss we shared. The worst of it was the horrifying fucking fear that I’d never get to hold you in my arms again.” Grace jumped as Drake came to his knees before her in the tiny chapel.
Raising Cain Page 9