Viper (NSB Book 3)

by Alyson Santos

  Her confidence fades when she learns I’m that Wes Alton. We both stare at my bandaged hands in thoughtful silence.

  “You should be able to play again,” she says finally. It’s the same tone my mother used when she promised maybe one day we’d get a dog. I never got a dog.

  “When?” I ask.

  “I’m not comfortable issuing an exact estimate. There are many factors to consider.”

  “Then give me a non-exact estimate. Will I be playing by April?”

  She doesn’t have to give me any estimate with that expression. No. I won’t be playing for my sister’s wedding. The last thing I had left is gone too.

  I shut my eyes and rest against the pillow.

  Dr. Smyth launches into backtrack mode, and I don’t have the energy to stop her optimistic lies. In rare cases this, that, fucking everything happens, but I stopped believing I’m one of the lucky ones years ago.

  I’m also not interested in self-pity. “Sounds good,” I say, cutting her off. “Hey, doc, I have trouble sleeping. You know, the pain…” is bad, but being conscious is worse.

  “Of course. I’ll have Linda get you something after we draw blood.”

  “Thanks.”

  She rests her hand on my forearm. “You’ll play again soon, Mr. Alton. You just need to have hope.”

  I manage to suppress my laugh.

  ∞∞∞

  When I wake again it’s dark outside. The gleam of parking lot lights sprinkles in through the slotted blinds, and a clock on the wall tells me it’s 7pm. A sign next to it reports that visiting hours end at nine. I guess that’s relevant information for some patients.

  I briefly consider calling Sophia. At the very least, she should know about my hands so she can make other arrangements for her processional. But I don’t want to freak her out with a call from the hospital and I don’t have my cell. Besides, the thought of turning on that digital monster after all this time is more painful than anything that happened in the alley.

  A light knock on the door draws my attention, and I turn to face Linda who’s probably doing another of her vitals checks. That would have been helpful at the moment because my vitals nearly crash when the dark hair of a younger woman pushes through instead.

  “May I come in?” Hannah asks.

  I’m too stunned to answer. She smiles at my dazed nod and closes the door behind her. My gaze is glued to every flex and sway of her body as she crosses the room. There’s a glow around her, I swear. The chair beside me creaks as she lowers herself and balances a small duffle bag on her lap.

  “Sorry I wasn’t here sooner. The nurses said you were sleeping when I came by this afternoon so I went to your place to get some stuff for you.”

  “Thanks” –is what I say to the woman who makes my heart explode.

  She clears her throat and holds up the bag. “So here. Um, I wasn’t exactly sure what you’d need but I brought some clothes, a toothbrush…” She looks at me again with a tortured expression, and something cracks in my soul. “Nine empty liquor bottles,” she says quietly, eyes heavy. “Is that all you’ve done since that day?”

  “Not all.” I raise my messed-up hands, but she doesn’t smile.

  “I brought your phone too.” It’s a warning, a question, and a critique all-in-one.

  “You turned it on,” I guess, and she nods. Shit.

  “Take it from the expert. Hiding from the storm doesn’t make it go away.”

  “Is that why you came back?”

  She adjusts in the chair, focusing on the floor. “I was worried, yes. You weren’t responding to any of my messages. Then I found out no one had heard from you.” She bites her lip as tears fill her eyes. I’ve never hated myself more. Her pain is on me. “When I saw you there, all bloody and not moving—” A sob cuts her off, and I instinctively rock forward. The strain hurts like hell, but it’s worth it when my fingers reach her shoulder and she slides onto the bed. I pull her in and bury my face in that intoxicating flower-scent.

  “I need you, Han,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I can’t do it without you.” Tears, my tears, burn in protest but I don’t want to move. I won’t. Not when I have her in my arms again. “I love you.”

  Another sob leaks out, and I lock her against me. My rock. My goddess. My kickass viper.

  “You should have stayed away,” I say through a kiss on her hair.

  “I know.”

  “It’s going to be even harder now.”

  “I know.”

  She pulls back and grips my cheeks. “I’m breaking free to strike. Fangs bared, spring out, out. Of hell, don’t tell. Me what I am…”

  I silence her beautiful song with a kiss. That voice. That smell. That magic we have together—I want it in my world forever. “I’m not, not your pet. I’m your hidden regret. So hear me, you should fucking fear me. As I rise.”

  23: HOT DATE

  I’m released from the hospital the following morning. Hannah helps me home, and everything feels different when I limp across the threshold. I won’t be tossing potpourri around or anything, but it’s damn nice to watch my girl use her key.

  “Do you need more meds?” she asks as I lower myself to the couch.

  Shit, yeah. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Okay. Want some coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  She sets to work on the beans, and I absorb everything about her as she moves around the kitchen. Even her coffee skills make a guy think in lyrics.

  “How’s therapy going?” I ask before the crazy in my head goes public.

  “Good.”

  “What about with your parents?”

  “Really good.” She leans on the island to face me. “You were right to send me home. I never would’ve confronted my illness hiding here.”

  “That’s great, Han.” Except I miss you like hell.

  “Ah, and I forgot how awesome it is having Emma and Sylvie around.”

  “They’re like manic supernovas.”

  I crack a grin at her laugh.

  “You should have seen Sylvie yesterday. Shandor is coming into town to rehearse for—” She stops and the laughter drains from her face. “Shit. Wes, I’m so sorry.”

  “To rehearse for the spring tour?” I settle against the armrest. “I bet Sylvie is excited to have him around.”

  Hannah remains silent, her gaze creeping over to me. “Yeah.”

  I offer an encouraging smile, and feel my own muscles release when her light returns.

  “She spent four hours on hair and makeup to meet him at the airport.”

  “Only four?”

  “Dad pulled the plug a half hour before arrival time and said if she didn’t get in the car, she wasn’t going.”

  I laugh and lean back as she returns to the coffee-prep.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Han,” I say. “Your parents can’t be thrilled that you’re helping me.”

  Her hand stalls on the carafe. “It doesn’t matter what they think. Besides I used the Drake Guilt Whip on them.”

  “Wow, brutal.”

  “Exactly. I went all out. ‘You raised me to be strong, loyal, and compassionate. My friend needs help.’”

  “Damn.”

  She tosses a mischievous grin over her shoulder. “What were they going to say to that?”

  “You sure you don’t want to be a lawyer anymore?”

  ∞∞∞

  We’ve just finished our coffee when Hannah glances at her phone.

  “Wow, it’s late. I should get going.”

  My heart cramps as I force a nod.

  She shifts closer to my end of the couch. “I’ll check your dressings like the doctor said before I go.”

  “You don’t have to. The visiting nurse will be here this afternoon.” I leave out the part where I don’t want to see her reaction to the damage I inflicted on myself.

  “You sure?” She hesitates, eyes squinting in doubt. “Do you need anything else?”

  She doesn’t want to leave ei
ther. Think! There has to be something.

  “Hot date tonight?”

  She chuckles. “I wish. No, I promised my parents I wouldn’t be long. They want to take us all out to some new hibachi place.”

  “Us all?”

  White teeth sink into her lip. “Uh, well, the six of us, plus Shandor and Luke. It’s not often we’re all together.”

  My lips twist… into something. “I see. Sounds fun.”

  Yeah, that didn’t go well.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say with much more finesse. She’ll still worry. Her fingernail is already lodged between her teeth. “Hey, Han, there’s something else before you go.”

  And that intro did nothing to ease her anxiety. Really, Wes? “My hands, you know?” I hold them up in case she forgot why she was here. “I’m not going to be able to play.” I clear my throat of the emotion. “I’ll call Soph in a bit so she can make other arrangements, just wanted to fill you in.”

  She stares at me in silence. Is she angry?

  “Han? You okay?”

  She shoves her phone into her back pocket and moves toward the door. “I’m fine. Gotta jet. Also, that’s total bullshit. We’re playing Sophia’s wedding.”

  I can’t even shove myself off the couch before she’s through the door.

  ∞∞∞

  I brave my phone the following morning and immediately wish I hadn’t.

  My dear readers. You'll never guess what juicy goss just found its way into my grabby mitts.... Oh, Wes. Take my advice. When you're already in bother with the old bill for being handy with your fists, maybe take it down a notch and lay low? It seems our wannabe boxer didn't come off too good this time and landed himself in a hospital room. Fingers crossed you didn't do any damage to those pretty hands. Oh, hang on. It's not like you'll be needing them anytime soon... Mila Taylor out

  A smirk spreads across my lips as I shake my head. Amazing. The woman is swift and omniscient, I’ll give her that. I scribble “Mila Taylor” on the list of shit I need to deal with. It’s right under lawyer, wedding, and business manager. And just like the others, it’s scrawled in almost indecipherable hieroglyphs. Today’s visiting nurse praised my ability to hold a pen. I told her I’ll look for a career that only requires kickass pen-holding skills. She didn’t get my humor and suggested “guestbook attendant.” Good thing my sister’s in the market for one. Are things finally swinging my way?

  I text Hannah for law firm referrals and send a message to my business manager about the pending suit. Then it’s on to the litany of missed calls and voice messages. I cross Hannah off the list. Fixed that, although I save her messages because I refuse to be without her again. Jacob has updates and questions. Holland is worried. Sophia is worried. Freddy Jr. wants to have lunch, as do Raymond and Pamela from the Label. Four messages are bullshit and not worth finishing. Two more are from the hospital, and the last one is a tabloid that got my private number somehow. Shit…

  I add “get new number” to my list.

  I straighten on the couch and study my handiwork. Not half-bad. Guess I can rock responsible after all. Time for the e-mails.

  I open my inbox and let out a long breath. Yep, no. Think I’m good with the voicemails and texts for now.

  “Check Email,” I write.

  ∞∞∞

  Holland is coming over for coffee. No Luke this time because he’s finally been called back to the part of his life that doesn’t involve his girlfriend. I was beginning to wonder how the dude could do the international superstar thing when he always seemed to be hovering around here.

  I’m prepared for her reaction when she sees my damaged face, but it still stings. She says nothing as her gorgeous smile fades. I can’t look anymore and step back so she can enter.

  “I’ve got that breakfast blend from Rienti’s brewing that you like,” I say, suddenly aware of my heavy limp.

  I reach for a mug and clench my jaw to suppress the wince from the burning in my ribs. She doesn’t need to see that too.

  “You still have some left?” she says, voice small. I smile over at her.

  “I bought a few bags when I saw how much you loved it on tour. I thought…” I stop and turn back to the mug. I thought we’d be using it a lot on our next one. I clear my throat. “How are rehearsals going?”

  “We don’t have to talk about that.”

  I add a splash of cream and one ice cube, just the way she likes it. “I want to. Is this Shandor guy getting it? Does he need help with anything?”

  She stares at the cup I push toward her for too long. Shit, she’s going to tear up. I can’t handle that right now and turn back to the coffeemaker.

  “He’s doing great. He’s a fantastic musician.”

  “Good. What about the riff on ‘Acrobat’?”

  “He’s got it. Even the delay.”

  I nod and lean on the island across from her with my own cup when it’s safe.

  “Is it true about what happened to you? This was another fight?” she asks.

  “Ah, Mila. Damn hospital staff must have leaked it.”

  “Or your opponents.”

  “Nah, they were pros.”

  She returns my wry smirk. “Clearly.”

  I let out a breath. “I don’t know, Hol. I just needed… Yeah, I don’t know what I needed, but I went looking to get fucked up.”

  “You were successful.” We exchange another smile, and suddenly we’re fifteen-year-olds in my basement again.

  “What’s going on with the album? Is it still dropping next week?” I ask.

  She shrugs through a sip of her coffee. “Supposedly, but the Label is pretty sure it’ll tank. There’s even talk of canceling the fall tour.”

  The look on her face is too much. “Hol, I’m…” I close my eyes and force in air. “I’m sorry.” When I open them again she’s blurry through a thin sheen of liquid. “I didn’t want this. Everything I’ve done, it’s all been to protect you and give you everything you’ve wanted since we were kids.”

  She shakes her head, tears gathering in her own eyes. “I had everything I wanted, Wes. I had it.”

  Oh god. The hot drops slide down my cheeks when I clench my eyes shut, and a ragged breath rattles beneath my broken ribs. I wonder if she can hear it in the silence. “I know.” It’s barely more than a whisper, and soon she’s next to me. My Holland. My friend, my world, takes me in her arms and holds on with twenty years-worth of compassion.

  “Let’s fix this,” she murmurs. “You want me to be happy? Then let’s put our lives back together.”

  ∞∞∞

  Holland and I spend the rest of our coffee date talking, laughing, and planning.

  “You’re gonna kill it,” I say. “How much of the new stuff are you doing?”

  “Hmm… most of the set will be from the new album. We’ll still do ‘Acrobat’ and ‘Perfect Storm,’ of course.” She quiets and gives her coffee an unnecessary stir. “You sure you’re cool with all of this? You really don’t want to come back.”

  I smile and hold up my hands. “Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  I nod and grow serious. “We were great together, but I think we’re stronger apart. I know you will be. I’ll always be here for you though.”

  A sad smile settles over her lips. “I know you’re right. It’s just…”

  “Hey. I was thinking, if you want, we could still write together. For your band?”

  My heart bursts at the light opening up on her face. “Seriously? You’d do that?”

  “It would help the Label’s PR team, right? Put the fans’ fears to rest?”

  “Hell yeah it would.”

  “Might even save the record if we come out that the rift is repaired. Everything is good, it’s just our last album as a band?”

  “You’d do that?” Shit, the viper-killing expression is back in her big blue eyes.

&n
bsp; “Of course. Raymond and Pam want to have lunch. Why don’t you come with us and we can lay it out with them?”

  “I’m in.” Her grin imprints itself on my soul.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  24: SOLUTIONS

  It’s disturbing how much I miss Hannah when she’s not around. Whenever she’s scheduled to arrive, I sit here, staring at the door. She said eleven, after her counseling session, and it’s already over fifteen minutes past. A knock rushes through me in a wave of relief.

  “Just come in,” I call out from the couch.

  The door clicks and opens to my heart-stopping viper.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I say.

  She grins. “Hey, yourself. Those meds must be taking their toll.”

  I laugh. “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’ve got a goofy smile on your face.”

  “Is that so? Or maybe it’s the girl in my foyer.” Totally worth it when she skips to the couch and launches into my arms.

  A groan leaks past my grin, and she gasps.

  “Oh, crap. Sorry!”

  “Don’t worry about it. They’re already broken.”

  She delivers a playful swat, and I draw her in for a long kiss. God, I missed those lips, the fire of her skin. My need becomes more desperate, and she melts against me.

  “You sure this is okay?” she breathes. “You’re not in pain?”

  I thread my fingers in her hair so she can’t pull away. “Not anymore.”

  Her lips crash against mine, and by the hunger in her kiss I know she’s missed me just as much. I search for the soft skin under her shirt, and she clutches my hem. She starts to pull, and I secure her wrist.

  I will never be able to stomach her disappointment.

  “I want to see you,” she says, eyes pleading. “It’s been so long.”

  “It’s not something you want to see.”