Sinners On Tour 03 Hot Ticket (17 page)

Aggie watched Jace sleep for over an hour before she thought about informing anyone else about his injury. He never talked about his family, so she didn’t know how to contact them, but she did have Jessica’s number. As Sed’s fiancée, Jessica had to know how to get in touch with the guys in Jace’s band. They needed to know what was going on. She was sure they would want to know, and they would know who else to inform. Aggie stepped into the hall so she didn’t disturb Jace’s sleep. He tried to pretend he wasn’t hurt too bad, but Aggie saw through the tough guy act. He needed his rest, and she was going to make sure he got it.

“Aggie!” Jessica answered the phone. “How are you? Sorry I bailed on you after the show in San Francisco. Sed thought we needed to do more celebrating.”

“Don’t worry about it. Speaking of Sed, is he around?”

“Why?”

Aggie almost laughed at the jealous edge to Jessica’s tone. “Jace has been shot. I wasn’t sure who needed to be informed.”

“Shot?”

“Yeah, shot.”

“What do you mean Jace has been shot?”

“I mean some dickhead shot him with a gun.”

“Shot him?”

“Yes, shot him. Can I just talk to Sed?”

“He’s not here. He went to the studio. Eric said Jace bailed on recording this afternoon, so Sed’s working on vocal tracks.”

Aggie realized if she wouldn’t have surprised Jace with a visit, he’d still be safely in the recording studio and not lying in some hospital bed. “Will you let Sed know what happened? Jace will be in here overnight. Probably longer.”

“Which hospital are you at?”

“County.”

“I’ll round up the guys, and we’ll come see him. How’d he manage to get shot?” Jessica asked.

“Some guy tried to grab my purse, and I refused to give it to him. He pulled a gun, and Jace shoved me out of the way. He took two bullets for me—all because I was stupid. I should have just given that bastard my fucking purse.” Aggie rubbed the center of her chest, her heart aching.

“Don’t blame yourself, Aggie. Blame the guy with the gun. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

Aggie returned to the room, sat in the chair beside the bed, and took Jace’s hand. She kissed his knuckles—pressed them to her cheek. She really did love him. She couldn’t deny it. Did he feel the same? He’d never said much about his feelings, but she knew he felt something for her. He always spoke far more in actions than he did in words. Of course, it could be simple sexual attraction on his end. She wasn’t sure if that was enough for her. It had once been, but now… now she wasn’t sure about anything.

Over an hour of worry later, she heard a commotion near the end of the hall. “Yes, we’re his family. Get the fuck out of my way.” Was that Sed? Had to be. That deep baritone was highly distinctive. “Jace,” Aggie whispered, shaking him slightly. “They’re here.”

He groaned, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Jace!”

“Tired,” he murmured. At least she was pretty sure that’s what he said. She was completely sure he was still asleep.

Within minutes the room was packed wall to wall with people.

The entire band had come to visit him? Aggie knew that would mean a lot to Jace, had he been conscious.

“Thanks for coming. I didn’t know who else to call,” Aggie said, glancing from one rock star to the next.

“The band isn’t complete without little man,” Eric said.

Sed stood at the side of the bed, staring at Jace as if to heal him with the power of his will. “He’s in bad shape,” Sed murmured. “He looks like shit.”

“He’s not going to die on us, is he?” Trey asked.

“His doctor said his surgery went well,” Aggie said. “They got the bullet out. The wound is clean. It just needs to heal.”

“Should have known something like this would happen,” Eric said, looking at Jace anxiously. “He was supposed to record in the studio this afternoon, and pow—he gets shot. This fuckin’ album is cursed, I tell you.”

“You recorded drum tracks this afternoon, and nothing happened to you,” Trey reminded him.

“Yet,” Eric said, glancing over his shoulder as if searching for the curse cloud now following him.

“Any idea how long he’ll be out of commission?” Sed asked.

“A few weeks.”

“We leave for Canada in three days,” Brian said.

“You’re leaving again already?” Aggie hated to be the needy girlfriend, but she never got to see him, and Jace had no business touring the continent while he was injured.

“Supposed to,” Sed said. “Can’t really perform without our bassist though.”

“How did he get shot?” Eric asked.

“Protecting me.”

Eric grinned at her crookedly. “You’d never know it from looking at him, but the dude is badass.”

“I’m sure he’d like you to tell him that,” Aggie said.

“No can do. We don’t need another egomaniac in the band. Sed’s got that persona covered.” Eric winced when Sed slapped him on the back of the head.

“What do you need us to do for you, Aggie?” Jessica asked, putting an arm around Aggie and rubbing the middle of her back.

Aggie’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Me?” She shook her head. “I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I meant. It must’ve been horrible to witness someone you…” Jessica’s eyebrows arched in question. “
Care
about?”

Aggie nodded. She’d admit that she cared about Jace. Even in front of all these guys that meant so much to him and whom she didn’t know very well.

“It must’ve been horrible to witness someone you care about get shot. I thought I’d stroke out when Sed blew out his throat onstage last month.”

Sed kissed his fiancée’s temple. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked, baby.”

“How would you like to watch helplessly while I lay unconscious in a puddle of blood?”

Sed jerked Jessica into his arms and rubbed his lips over her silky, strawberry blonde hair. “Don’t even put that vision in my head.” He offered Aggie a pat on the shoulder. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask. We’ll help.”

“I’m fine. And I think Jace mostly needs to rest. I don’t know what he’ll want to do about the upcoming tour.” Aggie could guess that he wouldn’t want to let his bandmates down, but she didn’t want to speak for him.

“Actually, I might have a solution,” Eric said. “I’ll need to make some phone calls.”

“
You
have a solution?” Brian asked.

“What? You don’t trust me to solve our problems?” Eric asked.

Sed, Brian, and Trey shook their heads in unison. For the first time since Aggie had stepped out of her car in Los Angeles, she smiled.

Jace moaned in his sleep.

The gurney followed him. He ran down an endless corridor. White tiles, white walls, blinding white light from above. Antiseptic smells. Jason was too afraid to look behind him. He could hear the squeak of the wheels, so he knew the gurney was still there. Still following him.

Kiss
your
mother
good-bye, son.

Jason stopped. The squeaky wheels stopped right behind him.

Kiss
your
mother
good-bye, son. Kiss your mother—

He covered his ears to drown out his father’s voice.
No. I can’t. Don’t make me.

This
might
be
the
last
time
you
see
her. Don’t you love her? Don’t you care?

That’s not her. It’s not her.

He didn’t want to look at her, with her face smashed, swollen, and bruised.

Unrecognizable. Not human. Her body twisted. Contorted. That
thing
on the gurney was not his mother.

The gurney bumped into his shoulder blades. His heart lurched. He ran. Ran faster than he’d ever run before.

Don’t step on a crack.
He tried to jump over them, but they moved beneath his feet, and he couldn’t avoid them all.

He stepped on one. He’d heard her body crunch when the approaching headlights disappeared. Over the sounds of the rending metal and shattering glass, he’d heard it from the backseat.

Her
back
is
broken, son. If she lives, she’ll never walk again.

But
she’ll still be able to play the piano, won’t she, Father?

I
don’t think so.

For that, Jason grieved.

Don’t cry, boy. Men don’t cry. Not ever.

He didn’t cry. He ran. Ran until he couldn’t run anymore. No breath left in him. No energy. If he couldn’t run, he had to hide. Hide from it. If it found him, it would get him. The thing on the gurney pretending to be his mother would get him.

An old shed became his salvation. He crammed his body into a small space. A dark place. Musty like an old attic. The air stale and stifling. But he was alone here. He liked being alone. Alone was safe. He listened for the squeak of wheels. They never came, but after a long time his father did.

Everyone
has
been
looking
for
you
all
day. I don’t have the patience for this bullshit right now, Jason. Your mother is dead. Do you understand? She’s dead! You’re alive—not a fucking scratch on you—but she’s dead.

Jason was too stunned to feel the first blow.

Dead? What did it mean to be dead? Was it like sleeping? A long sleep with no more pain?

Too confused to feel the second blow.

Don’t you ever hide from me again, you piece of shit. Not ever.

Jason heard the squeak of the gurney’s wheels outside the shed door.

Too afraid to feel the third blow. The fourth. Fifth. The pain washed over him like a comforting blanket. He deserved this.
Hurt
me, Father. Hurt me.

Jace’s eyes flipped open, his heart thumping with terror. His gaze darted around the sterile white walls. The IV bag hanging beside the bed. The heart rate monitor. The curtain rod above his bed. Instead of receding, fear rose up his neck until it strangled him. An instinctual need to run gripped him. Jace reached for the IV needle in the back of his hand, but before he could jerk it out, someone grabbed his wrist.

“Jace,” Aggie said. “It’s okay. Do you remember what happened? You’re in the hospital.”

He knew he was in the fucking hospital, and he needed to get out. Immediately. Years ago, a counselor had told him that he had post-traumatic stress disorder, but somehow, putting a name to it didn’t make it easier to deal with when it caught him off guard and sent him into a panic. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of his mother’s death. A long time since the traumas of his youth had controlled his reactions to the outside world. He’d thought he’d moved beyond this bullshit—apparently not.

“Aggie,” he said, grabbing her with both arms and pulling her against him on the bed. He hugged her as tight as he could, which didn’t seem nearly tight enough. “Aggie, you have to get me out of here.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurt. You can’t leave.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, which he vaguely recognized as throbbing dully in pain.

“I have to leave. Right now.”

“Let go. You’re going to damage your shoulder.”

He had no idea what she meant. “Aggie, please.”

“I’ll talk to your doctor.”

“They can’t keep me here against my will.” He released her reluctantly, and she stared into his eyes. She cupped his cheek and offered him a sad smile.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “I’ll take it away.” She kissed his lips tenderly. “Take it.”

Jace opened his eyes to absolute darkness. His body was on fire. His throat drier than a saltine in the Mojave Desert. What had woken him? His bladder protested its fullness. Oh. The glow of the streetlight outside his apartment and the comforting purr of Brownie near his pillow sank into his addled thoughts. He was home? How had he gotten home? A warm hand rested on his belly. Oh yeah. Aggie.

God, he had to pee. He felt for the edge of the bed, rolled to his feet, and immediately hit the floor with a loud thud. Pain radiated through his shoulder and arm. Fuck, getting shot hurt, and not with that sweet, stinging agony he so enjoyed.

“Jace?” Aggie’s concerned voice came from the bed above him. She switched on a lamp and peered over the edge of the mattress. “Are you okay?”

He lay on the floor, simultaneously breathing through his pain and trying not to laugh so he didn’t piss himself. “Can you help me up? I need to get to the bathroom.”

So much for rescuing his damsel in distress. She’d done most of the rescuing, and now she was going to have to help him take a piss.
Some
hero
I
am.

Aggie climbed from the bed and hefted him to his feet. He clutched the chest of his hospital gown with one hand and held on to Aggie with the other. Apparently, those wonderful pain meds they’d dripped into him in the hospital had worn off.

“You’re burning up, baby,” Aggie said.

“I’m freezing.”

“We’ve got to get you back to the hospital,” she said. “If you get an infection—”

“No, I don’t need a hospital. I need a toilet.”

He leaned heavily on her as she helped him out of the bedroom and to the bathroom next door. He tried to get his balance, but decided without her support, he’d soon find himself on the floor again. He’d never felt so woozy.

“I can’t stay on my feet without you,” he whispered.

“Just go,” she insisted. “It won’t bother me.”

She helped him keep the hospital gown out of the way as he mostly hit the toilet. He couldn’t help but sigh with relief as he drained his bladder. His eyes rolled into his head in bliss. Aggie chuckled. When he’d finished, she helped him back to the bedroom and tucked him into bed.

“Thirsty,” he murmured, almost asleep again. Just the walk to the bathroom had sapped his energy.

She shook him awake and pressed a bottle to his lips. “Jace, you have to drink.”

When had he fallen asleep again?

“Jace? Please drink, baby.”

“Aggie?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Take a drink. Come on.”

The first swallow hurt going down, but then he couldn’t get enough. He chugged the icy sports drink until the bottle was empty, and then shivered uncontrollably. Why was he so cold? Aggie stood and started to leave him alone.

“Stay,” Jace whispered.

“I was going to get you another blanket.”

“Stay.”

She sat beside him, her fingers stroking his cheek. He could feel himself drifting back into oblivion, but wanted to keep his eyes open—wanted to look at her. He missed looking at her when they were apart, and they’d been apart far too long while he’d been touring last month. Aggie sniffed. A lone tear slipped down her cheek and dripped off the edge of her jaw.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured.

“This is my fault. If you’d never met me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I’d never met you, I would have never gotten to hold you. I’ll take the bullet.”

He hadn’t meant to make her cry harder. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. Her body quaked with sobs as she clung to him. “Don’t die on me, Jace, please.”

“Not planning to.”

He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but his exhaustion had reached absolute, and he had no choice but to succumb to it.