by Gray, Kiska
“Yeah, we’re good.” It’d taken a couple of days of groveling, but luckily for me, Izzy was a softie at heart. We’d hugged it out like bros. Things were cool. “I’ll text him. Don’t worry your little blond head, Laz. I’ll be there, even if I have to call a damn Uber to pick my ass up.”
“See you there,” he said.
The phone line clicked dead. I ended the call, then swiped over to my messages to send Izzy a text. You wanna pick me up for this gig tonite?
You gonna be drunk if I do?
Nope. I left it at that. I’ll even put on some deodorant for you, how’s that?
Sounds good man. Be there at 6.
I plugged my phone into the charger on the kitchen counter, then took a good look around. Ugh. My place was trashed. Trash was tossed on the counter, empty take-out boxes growing mold and drawing gnats. Empty liquor bottles and beer cans littered the kitchen table, along with over a week’s worth of mail that I hadn’t so much as flipped through. There could be bills in there and I didn’t give a damn.
Now that Mika wasn’t here, my apartment looked like a bachelor pad after a frat party.
I wrinkled my nose and began to gather the trash. Once the place looked halfway decent, I treated myself to bottle of water and a long, hot shower. The hot tub would’ve felt better, but… I wasn’t sure I could get in without thinking of all the things Mika and I got up to in there. Maybe I’d keep it covered for awhile.
Izzy arrived at six on the dot and honked twice. I threw on my winter coat, grabbed my wallet and my keys, then headed down to the parking lot. I folded myself into the passenger seat of his little Fiat.
“Hey.” I chin-nodded.
“Hey yourself. You actually look half-human today,” Izzy said with a lopsided smile.
“Don’t feel it, but thanks, I guess. Fucking exhausted.”
“Not sleeping well?”
“Nope,” I retorted. I busied myself with staring out the window, watching the streetlights pass us by. Funny how your insomnia chose to pop back up the minute your bed was cold and empty. With Mika spooned against me, I’d never fallen to sleep faster in my life, and now? Now I was up most the night, restless and hungover and lonely.
“You wanna talk about it?” Izzy offered.
I surprised us both by laughing. The sound was sharp and bitter, like my heart. My heart is a wasteland. Don’t get too close, cuz I’m not that kind of man. “You want the truth?”
“Yeah, man. Lay it on me.”
“I miss Mika. I miss everything about him and I fucking hate myself for breaking his heart. Like, you have no idea. I’ve never felt like this before and it royally sucks. I kind of want to crawl into bed and hibernate there till spring and hope for better days.”
“Why don’t you text him then? You’re miserable. Anyone with two eyes can see it.” When all I did was groan into my cupped hands, he patted my knee. “Hey, I get it. Love stinks sometimes. You loved him.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even an assumption. He just knew. We both knew.
“Yeah.” Why bother denying it? It was the truth, wasn’t it?
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
I hunched my shoulders. “I dunno. I’m scared, I guess. The idea of things between us being real, being serious, it hit me hard. It rattled me and I freaked out and probably—okay, definitely—overreacted, but hell... I don’t know. What if I can’t do it?”
“Can’t do what?” he asked.
“Can’t do love. Can’t love him the way he needs. What we had was something special, but I don’t know if I’m capable of being the kind of guy who can do the whole “domestic lifestyle” thing. You know?”
Izzy pulled his gaze away from the road to look at me, his ginger brows bunched together. “So don’t?” The way he said it made it seem like that should’ve been obvious. “You don’t have to get married, Gideon, if that’s what you’re worried about. You don’t even have to have kids. Fuck, you’re a rockstar—you and Mika could travel the world together. You could go on cruises and get drunk and fuck in the ocean and, I don’t know, be you. You could experience so much together. Partnership doesn’t have to be so black and white. There’s so much more outside of a mortgage and kids and becoming Mr. Homemaker.”
I picked at a loose thread on my jeans, focusing my attention on that. “Do you want that?” I asked. “A house and kids and a wife?”
“Sure, someday. Why not? I haven’t met the right person yet, but when I do, I’d be game for that. Think about it, Gid. You’d could be a godfather to a couple of ginger-haired little shits. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Izzy laughed. “Have a couple of dogs, a fenced in back yard, the whole nine yards. It’s all about making memories.”
“Right.”
“Look. Let’s get through this gig and then, if you want, I’ll help you figure out the next step. It doesn’t have to end like this, but if you truly love him, you’re gonna have to grow a pair and confess your feelings to him. You capable of that, man?” He smirked and this time, I smiled back—a real smile, one I hadn’t worn since New Year’s Eve.
Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe I could win Mika back.
“Thanks, Izzy. You’re—shit!”
I didn’t get the chance to warn him. The semi laid on its horn, barreling headlong towards us. Its headlights flashed across the dash, bright and glaring. Izzy screamed and yanked the wheel to the side, but it was too little, too late. I threw my hands over my head and braced for impact.
Hello darkness, my old friend...
31
Gideon
I slowly, agonizingly peeled open my eyes to try and blink through the pain. My skull was pounding so hard that my eyeballs jumped with each beat of my heart. Every breath I took made my chest tighten and ache. My head spun. In the distance, sirens wailed. Fuck…
The gig. The truck. Izzy.
“Izzy?” I mumbled, but my tongue felt too fat for my mouth. Had I bitten it? I reached up to touch my lips and my hand came away red. “Iz?” Everything hurt. I slowly turned to look at him, dread knotting my gut.
His body was hunched limply over the steering wheel, completely still. His arms dangling at his sides, his face and hair were smeared with gore. Blood dribbled down his nose and jaw to stain the leather upholstery. He didn’t move. Was he breathing? I couldn’t tell. Was he dead? There was so much blood...
I moaned softly, then let my chin fall to rest against my chest, too weak to hold it up any longer. I was so damn tired. Maybe if I closed my eyes, maybe…
* * *
When I opened them again, I found myself gazing up into the concerned face of a handsome EMT. He had kind blue eyes and flyaway blond hair. Mika. He reminded me of Mika. I opened my mouth to speak, but my lips were swollen and my tongue was sore. I tried to turn my head, but there was something stopping me. Where was I? Where was Izzy?
“Izzy?” I slurred.
“We’re here to help. You’re gonna be okay.” The man’s voice was calm. Serene. Like the ocean waves gently lapping at the sandy shore somewhere deep in the Bahamas, where men and women in bikinis lounged on the beach sipping mixed drinks from coconuts.
I blinked up at him. His mouth formed words, but his voice was so far away and I’d always been shit at lip reading. Too tired to give a damn, my eyelids slid closed once more and I let the beating drum that was my skull take me away to a better place.
Like the Bahamas.
* * *
I awoke in a hospital bed. The IV pole beside my bed dripped a clear liquid down a tube and into my arm. Behind me, machines beeped just loud enough to be annoying. I felt so unbearably heavy and my head was killing me. It felt like someone had taken a jackhammer and was actively trying to split my skull open like a melon. I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable, but every single muscle and bone in my body ached.
The truth sank in slowly. Where was Izzy? God, he’d been so pale.
I pushed the call button. The light outside my door lit up and I heard the shuffle-c
lap of shoes hurrying in my direction. The nurse gave a courtesy knock, then peeked in. “Welcome back, hun. Do you need anything? Let me run and get you a cup of ice chips.”
“Where’s Izzy,” I mumbled, reaching out to grab her hand. Swing and a miss. Damn it.
“Don’t worry.” She tucked my arm back against my side and patted my hand. I asked again, but got the same non-answer or useless encouragement. Frustration built up, but it soon gave way to a tingling fear. Was Izzy dead? Was he dying? Why wouldn’t they tell me anything? I had the overwhelming urge to start crying, but I knew that would only make my headache worse.
Instead, I pushed the pain button and slipped back into darkness.
I drifted in and out of consciousness until my nurses came back in to take vitals. They poked and prodded me and I grumbled at them. I wanted to slap their hands away, but that would be an asshole move. They were only trying to do their jobs. Apparently, I had one hell of a concussion and some fractured ribs, as well as a broken collarbone. Would explain the pain, but the meds they were pumping into me made me feel woozy and weak.
This time, when I fell asleep, I dreamed. We were back in the car but Izzy wasn’t driving—Mika was. And this time, when the metal screeched and the glass shattered, it was Mika who screamed. It was Mika who hung limp by his seatbelt, blood soaking his puffy blue winter coat.
I jerked awake with tears in my eyes, reaching out blindly. Someone squeezed my hand and for a breathless moment, I thought it was him. My heart jumped like it’d been shocked by a livewire, but the person sitting next to my hospital bed was Laz. I deflated.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said with a smile, but it was wan. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. I wondered how long I’d been out of it. “You feeling okay?”
“Head hurts. Chest hurts. Kind of wanna die, but sure,” I muttered, then paused. Laz would tell me what I needed to know. I struggled to sit up in bed. “Where’s Izzy? Is he okay?”
Laz didn’t say anything. My stomach bottomed out. When he did finally speak, his voice was croaky. “Izzy’s in the ICU. He’s… I’m not gonna lie to you, he’s pretty messed up. His condition isn’t stable yet, but it doesn’t look too great right now.”
“No…” I sank back into the pillows, defeated.
“Yeah. Ivy’s a wreck. She hasn’t left his side.”
“Fuck. Not Izzy. They can’t take Izzy. Should’ve been me. Should’ve—”
“Stop. Don’t take that on,” Lazarus said. “I’m not giving up on Izzy and neither should you. He’s strong. If anyone can beat this, he can, and that’s what we have to focus on.”
I nodded, but I felt numb. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my soul and when the door closed softly behind Lazarus, I pressed my face into the pillow and sobbed.
32
Mika
My phone went off, but one look at the screen and my stomach soured. Gideon was calling. Anger spiked my heart rate and I glowered at the offending piece of technology. Fuck him. It could go to voicemail. I turned my attention back to the TV, my fingers mashing over the buttons of my controller. I hoped that he’d get the message and realize I wasn’t going to pick up.
No such luck.
The phone rang again and again. I shivered and did my best to ignore it. I didn’t want to talk to him. Not now, maybe not ever. It was still too raw of a wound. That, and I knew myself too well. He’d feed me some line about how he was sorry, blah blah blah, and I’d turn into a giant sap and take him back.
Saint paused the game. The look he gave me was pointed. “Maybe you should answer.”
“No.”
“What if it’s important?”
“I don’t care,” I replied as calmly as I could.
“Yes you do, don’t lie to me. You need to hear him out, then give him a piece of your mind,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Talk to him, Mika. Tell him how you feel. Talk about what happened. Here I am, giving him the benefit of the doubt again, but I’ve got a feeling. You need to answer it.”
“Saint…”
“Do it,” he barked. “You’ll regret it if not.”
I bit down on my lip and stared at my phone, then swiped my finger across the screen before I could talk myself out of it. My heart took off pounding as I tried to keep my voice as even as I could. “What do you want, Gideon?”
“Mika?” Not Gideon.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“It’s Laz. I know I’m probably the last person you wanna talk to right now, but there’s been an accident. Gideon and Izzy were in a car wreck. They were on their way to a gig, thought maybe it’d pull him out of his funk. They were t-boned. I thought maybe you’d want to know.”
My blood ran icy cold. “What? Are they okay?”
Memories of the past flooded me, of the knock on the door that fateful evening. Two officers stood on the doorstep, their expressions somber. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s been an accident.” My father had died that night, the victim of a hit and run. They never found the person who’d struck him.
“Gideon’s pretty banged up, a bad concussion and some broken bones, but he’s stable. Izzy isn’t doing so well. He took the brunt of it. It’s been a rough couple of days.” He sounded so worn down.
My stomach pitched. “I’m sorry, Laz. That’s… I don’t even know what to say.”
“Me too. Mika? I know he hurt you, but he did feel something. I know he did. He can bullshit all he wants, but he’s been miserable these past few weeks. He cried out your name in his sleep last night. I thought you should know. I don’t expect you to drop by, but it felt wrong, somehow, not to tell you.”
I teared up, but I knew I couldn’t leave it like this. “What hospital?”
I was shaking by the time I got off the phone. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and tried to breathe. Saint sat next to me on the couch, very quiet. I knew he’d heard everything. “Could you maybe drop me off at Ma’s hospital? I don’t think I can drive right now and Gideon…” My heart hurt.
“Of course, Mika. Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I replied truthfully. “But I should go. I should… I need to see him.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Okay. Get your coat, I’ll go warm up the car.”
My stomach was in knots the entire drive. I picked at my fingernails, chewing away hangnails until they bled. My leg jumped in rapid succession, making the car bounce. When Saint pulled up to the front entrance, he touched my wrist. “You need me to come in with you?”
I slowly shook my head. “No. I think I need to do this alone.”
“Text me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Saint. You’re the best.” I drew a deep breath, then hopped out of the car and into the cold. I wrapped my coat a little tighter around me and rushed through the wide, sliding glass doors that opened up into the main lobby. I went up to the receptionist. “Um. Could you tell me what room Gideon Grey is staying in?”
She peered at me from over the tops of her glasses. “Are you family?”
Shit. “No, but—”
“Mika!” Bex waved his hand in the air, gesturing me over. I murmured a quick thanks to the woman, then hurried over to greet him. “Laz told me you were on your way. We’re on the third floor, c’mon.” He led the way to an elevator, which dinged when it hit our floor. I stepped inside and gripped the metal railing. I held my breath the entire way up.
I was running on autopilot by the time we reached the private waiting room. A courtesy, no doubt, to keep anyone from recognizing the bedraggled band members of Gravitation in their time of despair. Laz stood when he saw me, holding out his arms, and I stepped into a shockingly warm embrace.
“I’m so sorry, Laz,” I whispered, at a loss for words.
“Me too. Thanks for coming. I know it’s hard. Do you wanna see him? Visiting hours are over, but Gideon’s nurse likes me.” His lips curved into a tired smile. I nodded and he led me down a long hallway
. I hesitated outside the door for only a moment, then quietly crept into the room.
Gideon was asleep. His handsome face was marred by ugly bruising and a split lip, but even in slumber, he looked sad.
Swallowing the pain, I made my way to his bedside on shaky legs, pulling the chair a little closer so I could sit next to him. I didn’t want to cry, but my stupid emotions were running the show and all I could do was grin and bear it. He whimpered softly and it almost broke me. I took his clammy hand in both of mine and I pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
I didn’t know what the answers were. I didn’t know if we could still fix what had been broken, but I knew in my heart that I still loved him and right now, that was the only thing that mattered.
33
Gideon
I groaned out loud when my nurses came in, rolling a medical cart along with them. “Guess what time it is, sweetie?” Cherry singsonged.
Time for the vampires to do their morning rounds. Ugh. Kill me.
Cherry was a tall, purple-haired Latina whose makeup was always flawless. The bitch could run around this entire hospital and never once break a sweat, plus she could dish out the sass like none-other. She was my favorite—except for when she was brandishing a needle.
I flopped back against my pillows. “Really? Again?”
“Really.” She smiled brightly at me, patting my knee on her way around the bed. “I know, it sucks eggs, but look on the bright side? Couple more days and you’ll be busting this joint and I will be nothing but a distant memory.”
I grumbled. “I hate needles.”
“You’ve got tattoos on your ass. You can’t be that afraid of them.”