Wild Angel

by Shari Copell

  “I love you too. Can I eat my breakfast now? I’m starving.” Typical T.J. Emotional moment over, he was back to business.

  Nicks kissed him on the forehead. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Yep.” His focus was now entirely on the plate in front of him.

  She rose and turned toward Stone. What could she say? They’d been given a second chance.

  He pushed the food tray away and opened his arms to her. “Don’t stand there staring at me. Get in here!”

  She leapt into the bed and rolled into his arms, thinking she should warn him about her back, but she honestly didn’t feel a thing as he crushed her to him. “I almost lost you. I can’t believe you’re back with us.”

  “So I’ve been told. Your dad filled me in a little about what happened. Did Marius hurt you?”

  “Hope you like a girl with scars.”

  “Scars? Where? What did that bastard do to you?”

  “Didn’t Daddy tell you?”

  “He told me some things, but nothing about scars.”

  There was no point trying to hide it from him. The scars would be plainly evident at some point. “Marius beat the crap out of me with a riding crop. Across my back. He’d just taken it to the next level—cutting me with a box cutter—when Mom and Dad found us.” She turned to show him the thick gauze squares taped to her neck. “Mom said this little gem took seven stitches to close.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch. I’m going to kill him,” Stone said through gritted teeth.

  He pulled her hard against him again, making her wince. “Easy, dude. On the back and with the attitude. The cops have him now. I told them everything I knew. So did Lindsay. They may want to talk to you and T.J. now that you’re awake.”

  “You’ll probably have to testify at his trial, you know,” her mother warned.

  “I don’t care about that. I want him to go down for a long time,” Nicks said. Marius had nearly taken everything from her. She wanted him to rot in prison.

  “He came at me with a knife,” T.J. said around a mouthful of toast. “He stuck it in my chest. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, but that’s what he did. Everything got blurry then, and I fell down.”

  Nicks half-turned to her brother. “T.J, you’ll never have to go through another thunderstorm without my arms around you. I promise.”

  T.J. looked up with a silly grin. “What if I’m forty?”

  “Not even when you’re forty, buddy.”

  Chelsea had sensed she and Stone wanted to be alone. Her mother had always been awesome that way. When T.J. finished his breakfast, they loaded him up into a wheelchair and took him on a tour of the hospital so they could talk.

  “I guess they’re keeping you for observation. To make sure you’re healing,” Nicks told Stone. “I can go home today if I want to.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He laid his cheek against her hair as she snuggled up to him on the bed. “I’ll go the fuck home if I want to. I’d like to see them stop me.”

  “You have a broken skull, Stone. You should probably do as they say.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “They can’t believe you guys are up and talking. It really is a miracle.”

  “Yeah. What happened?”

  She told him everything she knew, though it was third hand. About Asher showing up in the back seat of the Lexus, the blue light that seemed to heal the two of them.

  “You’ll have to ask my mom for the details. I wasn’t there for any of it,” Nicks said.

  “I still can’t believe Marius would do something like that. He was the freaking principal, for God’s sake.”

  “I guess you never really know what goes on in someone’s mind.”

  “What’s going on in your mind right now, Nicks?”

  “Do you want the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m worn out and exhausted. I feel like I don’t want to play guitar anymore. Maybe it does attract the wrong kind of attention. I just want to live a quiet life, out of the spotlight. Maybe go to school for something. I don’t know what though. Asher left me money for college. Guess I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. No way.”

  She glanced up, surprised. “What? College?”

  “You giving up guitar. No way on God’s green earth will I allow you to quit playing.”

  “C’mon, Stone. It isn’t going to go anywhere for us. I was a fool to think Wild Angel would ever be any more than what it is. Just a local bar band.”

  “So you’re going to let Marius steal that dream from you. Shame.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Fuck you.”

  He sighed. “Sorry. That’s what it looks like to me. Marius wins after all.”

  She sat up and glared at him. “To take it to the next level would require a manager and more equipment. A tour bus or something. Dad could get the equipment for us, but I don’t see anyone knocking the door down to be our manager. And after everything that has happened, it would have to be someone my father trusted to look after us. The chances of him trusting anyone that much are slim and none.”

  “Do I have to knock your door down?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be your manager. I have a few connections in the music world. I’m willing to try and shake things up for you. If you want to take Wild Angel on tour next summer, I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen. And I’m pretty sure your dad would trust me with all of you.”

  Hope started to lift inside her, like the tide rising. She needed some questions answered first though. “You’d have to quit Heavy Remedy to go on tour with us. I don’t want you pissed off at me years from now. I don’t want to hear you say, ‘I might’ve been famous if I wouldn’t have had to babysit a bunch of girls’.”

  “Who said I had to quit the band? I’ll just take a short break. And hopefully you guys would let me play with you once in a while.” He jostled her around until she was looking up at him. “I love you. I want to do this for you. Please don’t say no.”

  She held her breath. He was offering to give up something he loved for her. Was he serious?

  Well, why not? Women gave things up for their men all the time.

  Stone was like Tage. He didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He believed in her. He was secure enough to throw his weight behind her dreams. That kind of man was hard to find.

  The familiar feeling of excitement she got whenever she thought of taking Wild Angel on tour crept over her. It could happen. They could do this. They would have to do lots of planning, but they had the whole winter to do it.

  Nicks locked the fingers of her left hand with his and kissed him on the cheek. “I say yes.”

  EPILOGUE

  Chelsea drank the last of her eggnog and stared out the kitchen window. It was Christmas Eve. Every house in the neighborhood had their Christmas lights turned on already, though it was only noon. It was another gray Pennsylvania day, but everything seemed so much brighter, more joyous, this year.

  It had always been T.J’s job to turn on the lighted Frosty the Snowman that stood outside the Sorenson home during the holidays. He’d been lit since the boy’s feet hit the floor that morning.

  Frosty leaned against the porch stoop railing, partially blown over by the cold front that’d come through the night before. Despite being tipped off his feet, Frosty was smiling giddily, a smile that echoed in her own heart.

  She wandered through the house counting her blessings. Nicks, Lindsay, and Aimee were in the family room putting the finishing touches on some last-minute gift wrapping. Willow, her husband Randy, and Marybeth were icing red and green cupcakes in the dining room. Willow was apparently dipping into the icing. Her lips were as green as grass.

  Stone was giving T.J. and Reese a bass lesson in the sunroom. Tage was the only one missing, and he’d be home from Tapestries soon. She couldn’t wait for him to get there so they could start the festivities. They had a lot to c
elebrate this year.

  “You guys okay for a while? I have a quick errand to run,” she called to Nicks from the doorway.

  Her beautiful daughter looked up from the mess of paper and ribbon. “We’re fine, Mom. Go ahead.”

  Chelsea retrieved her keys from the hook, grabbed her purse, and got in the car. This errand wouldn’t take long. It was something she’d been meaning to do for a month or more but hadn’t found the time. She knew Tage would understand.

  It had snowed the night before—about four inches—covering Calvary Cemetery with a clean, white blanket. There was no wind, but it was quite cold. Chelsea stood at the edge of the road and surveyed the gray granite stones jutting out of the fluffy white.

  Every person buried here had someone missing them today. A place at the table was empty. The inhabitants of Calvary Cemetery had no gifts waiting for them under anyone’s tree.

  Still, the living remembered the dead the best way they could, with small trinkets and pine wreaths resting against the gravestones at an angle. Someone had strung tinsel across a grave that said “Mother”, adding a few red-and-green ornaments. Though it was just after noon, several solar eternal lights were flickering faintly, a testament to the dark day.

  One or two graves even had a wrapped package sitting on the base, though the snow had ruined the paper and ribbon. Unfortunate that they would never be opened by the people for whom they were intended.

  Asher had told her before he passed that no one truly dies if they can live on in someone’s memories. She supposed that was true, but only up to a point. Memories were wonderful, but they didn’t fill the void that missing person left in the lives of those who’d loved them.

  She walked toward the black granite monument that marked the place where a little piece of her heart was buried. Hugging herself against the cold, she tried to think of what she wanted to say as she came to a halt in front of it.

  “Merry Christmas, Asher. For some reason, I can’t stop thinking of that Christmas you and I spent together at my house. You gave me this locket with your picture inside.” She felt for the golden heart on the chain around her neck. “I have a wonderful husband and great kids—and I love them with all my heart—but I can’t seem to stop missing you. I always wonder what a good therapist would say about that then I realize I don’t care. I don’t have to explain a goddamn thing to anyone. You will always be a part of me. And that’s that.” She bit her lip and paused for a moment.

  “God, you really are something, aren’t you? That was quite a performance. I came to say thank you for saving Nicks and Lindsay. I don’t know what strings you had to pull for Stone and T.J., but I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

  She bent over, brushed the snow from the base of the stone, and placed the worn guitar pick on the same spot where she’d found it several months earlier. “I brought this back to you, just in case you needed it. Nicks wants to keep hers. Hope you don’t mind.”

  As she thought of everything she’d been through with Asher, one of the last things he’d ever said to her ran through her thoughts: I’ll wait for you, Chelsea. We’ll get it right in the next life. She didn’t want to be unkind, but that statement needed to be addressed. Today.

  “Don’t wait for me, Asher. I got it right in this life.”

  She turned to go back to the car. The wind suddenly picked up, ruffling her hair and lifting the collar of her coat. On a whim, she looked over her shoulder, back at Asher’s grave.

  The pick was gone. In its place was a fresh, red rose.

  “Showoff.” She smiled, her vision blurred by tears. “I love you too.”

  SHARI COPELL HANGS OUT AT:

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