Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (64 page)

“What’s going on?” Avery started.

“Trust me,” Marcus said near her ear. She closed her eyes as he continued. “Stephen couldn’t go on the road with us this time, but I was fortunate enough to talk a very experienced AR man into subbing for him.”

“Open your eyes, kid,” a familiar voice intoned.

Avery blinked, meeting a pair of very familiar brown eyes framed by wire rimmed glasses. “Trevor!” she exclaimed throwing her arms around her friend and former manager. He returned the hug earnestly.

“That’ll do it, then.” Mary smiled. “Let’s eat. The band needs to leave for Seattle in a couple of hours.”

“How’d you manage this?” Avery asked, looking from Marcus to Trevor as they took their seats at the table.

“Your fiancé is a pretty determined man.” Trevor smiled, unruly brown bangs falling into his eyes. “Stephen’s promised to cover my clients while I’m gone. Mary more than made it worth my while. And of course, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be a part of your debut tour with BS.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” Avery told him as a uniformed waiter placed a sushi platter in front of them. She looked into his sky blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes. “What an awesome surprise.” She squeezed his hand under the table. “I love you.”

“Ditto, Ace,” he said, squeezing back and placing his hand up on her thigh and resting it there.

Avery picked up her chopsticks and pulled apart a slice of sushi roll for her plate. Taking her first bite, she sighed, savoring the complex textures and tastes of the dynamite roll.

“Mom,” she heard Marcus say and turned to see Rheta approaching them, a serious expression on her face. “What is it?”

“Avery.” She laid a hand firmly on her shoulder. “I need to talk to you both in private. It’s urgent.”

AVERY STARED BLANKLY out the window of the Mercedes as Ray deftly maneuvered the car in and out of the late night traffic. Marcus twisted around to make sure that his parent’s taxi was able to keep up. He swiveled back around in time to notice Avery’s shoulders slump. Her forehead dropped against the window pane. She’d hardly spoken since they’d received the news. She had withdrawn into a silent world of suffering, and he felt helpless to reach her.

He unbuckled his seat belt and scooted over beside her. Placing both his hands on her tense shoulders, he began to massage them. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and sighed.

“Ace.” He couldn’t stand it anymore.

She turned to face him, eyes haunted.

“I really don’t know what to say. I just…” He laid the palm of his hand against her soft cheek. She leaned into it. “I love you. And I want you to know that I’m always here for you. No matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and buried her face against his shoulder. Her voice was muffled into his leather jacket. “If it weren’t for Justin, I don’t even think I’d want to see him.”

“You would,” he said with absolute certainty.

“I don’t know. I’ve hated him for so long.” She shook her head against his chest. “I don’t know how I feel right now,” she admitted numbly.

When they arrived at St Paul’s Hospital and entered the emergency room waiting area, Justin rose to greet them.

“Sis,” he sighed, crossing the room, arms open. Avery stepped into his embrace.

After a long moment, she asked quietly, “What happened?”

Wearily, he ran a hand across his face. “When I got to his hotel tonight, he didn’t look so good. He was really pale, and his hands were shaking. We talked for a long time about mom…about the past…his drinking.” He pulled her over to one of the chairs and took her hands in his as they sat down. “Sis, he told me he sobered up as soon as we left. Stopped cold turkey. And he spent what money he had left hiring private investigators trying to find us after we ran away. He kept telling me how sorry he was…” His voice deepened with emotion. “I told him that didn’t change anything and he agreed.” He was quiet for a moment. “Except that he does seem really different.”

When Avery didn’t comment, he continued. “Anyway while we were talking he kept excusing himself to go to the bathroom. The third time he left the room, he didn’t come back for the longest time. So I went to check on him.” He let go of her hands and pulled his fingers through his hair. “He’d been vomiting blood, Avery. It was all over him, his clothes, and the counters. I guess something had really broken loose. That’s when I called an ambulance.”

“What did the doctors say?” Marcus asked.

“Something about putting some bands in to stop the bleeding and that they would have to give him a transfusion. They took him right back for surgery, and I haven’t heard anything since then.

“Mr. Jones?” A tall man with glasses and blue scrubs approached them.

“Dr. Roberts.” Justin took Avery’s hand and stood with her. “This is my sister, Avery.”

“Oh.” The doctor’s eyes widened slightly with recognition. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you know we’ve got your father stabilized. He’s being transferred to a private room on the fourth floor.”

“Will he be alright?” Avery asked in a soft voice.

“For now,” the doctor responded with empathy. “But your father has end stage liver failure. He’s dying. He asked me to tell you both in case you had any questions that he couldn’t answer.”

Avery felt the blood drain from her face. She swayed unsteadily. Marcus immediately put his arms around her shoulders. Rheta, Don, Dwight and Lisa gathered around the twins.

“How long does he have?” Justin asked with a clenched jaw.

“Without a liver transplant, six months to a year. We were able to control the bleeding this time, but at some point it will happen again.”

Avery sat back down, putting her head in her hands. She looked up at Marcus, “I can’t even process this right now,” she told him. The antiseptic smell of the hospital was messing with her equilibrium. It brought back unpleasant memories of the last months of her mom’s life, especially that awful feeling of helplessness. “I’m going out to the courtyard. I need some fresh air.” She stood, spun on her heel, and fled down the hall.

Marcus started to follow, but Rheta stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Son, let me talk to her.”

After a moment, Marcus gave a tight nod.

ON THE COLD concrete bench beneath the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings, Avery tensed as Marcus’ mother approached.

“Avery.”

“Don’t,” she said tersely, folding her arms tightly to her chest. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

Rheta pulled her coat closed and sat down on the bench beside her. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” She gently smoothed a strand of hair away from Avery’s face. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. We all are.”

With a sob, Avery threw herself into Rheta’s arms, burying her face in her scratchy wool coat.

Rheta stroked her hair. “I think I understand how you feel right now.”

“How can you?” Avery asked, pulling back to look at her.

“My father was an alcoholic, too.”

“I’m sorry. I never knew.”

“I don’t talk about it much. It’s in the past and I’m a private person. But it’s something that never leaves you, as you know. Growing up in that type of environment, I learned to take care of myself. To be self-reliant. Strong.” She gave Avery a soft smile. “Just like you.”

Avery shook her head. “I’m not strong.”

“Yes, you are. We’ve had this conversation before. Most people wouldn’t have come out on the other side of what you’ve experienced and still be warm and caring.”

Avery ducked her head. “Well, I’m not handling the current situation very well though, am I?”

“It’s a lot to take in. Give yourself some time to sort it all out.”

“Ok.” Avery closed her eyes. “But is it wrong that I’m still mad at him?” she whispered.

“No, Avery. That’s normal.”

“I don’t want to talk to him, either. I don’t want to have to feel sorry for him.” She lifted her eyes. “I don’t want him to ever think that what he did was ok.”

“I know. I’ve had to work through similar feelings about my own father.” Rheta paused and squeezed Avery’s cold hand. “Only mine died before I had a chance to talk to him about it. That’s a regret I still have to this day. I wish I’d told him how his drinking made me feel, like I didn’t matter enough for him to stop.” She looked deeply into Avery’s eyes. “You have an opportunity to start a dialogue with him. Going in to see him doesn’t mean that you’re condoning what he did. But I think it’s the first step on a path that leads to healing for you. Your life will be a lot better if you can let go of that big lodestone of bitterness that you’ve been dragging around for all these years.”

Avery shoulders stiffened.

“Unforgiveness is an insidious thing, Avery. It never ends up hurting the other person half as much as the one harboring it. It’s the poisonous pill
you
swallow hoping the other person will die.” Her cell phone pinged and she glanced down, reading the message. “That’s Marcus checking on you. He loves you and he’s worried about you.” She kissed Avery on the cheek. “I love you, too, and I trust you. I have complete confidence that you’ll make the right decision.”

UNDER THE GLARING fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor, Avery let go of Marcus’ hand.

“You sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “I just want to get this over with.”

“Alright.” He brushed his lips across hers and headed to the waiting area. She watched him for a moment, took a deep steadying breath, straightened her spine, and knocked on the door to her father’s hospital room.

“Hey sis,” Justin said in a whisper as he opened the door. “He’s been sleeping.” Justin threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her forward.

“How is he?”

He looked awful, frail and pale against the white hospital sheets. The monitor beeped out the rhythm of his heartbeat. As she watched he shifted slightly, winced in discomfort, and opened his eyes.

Arthur focused on them. His lips lifted in an attempted smile that looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry,” he began, fumbling for the control to raise the bed.

“Let me help,” Justin insisted, reaching for the panel. The bed rose up so Arthur could sit. “How’s that?”

“Good. Thank you.” Arthur studied Justin and Avery for a moment, and then looked embarrassed. “The doctor spoke to you then?”

“Yeah, Dad,” Justin replied. “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”

“I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me… I just…” His raspy voice stumbled to a stop. He glanced around the room. His eyes came to rest on a pitcher sitting on the counter.

“Do you need some water?” Avery asked hesitantly, following the direction of his gaze.

“Yes, please.”

Avery poured some water into a plastic cup, put a straw in it, and brought it over to him. Their hands brushed against one another as she passed it to him. Even just that incidental contact made her flinch. She felt jumpy and uncomfortable around him.

Arthur gave her a sad, knowing glance as he took a couple of small pained sips.

“I want to apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused.” His eyes filled and his voice was raw. “I thought I was doing ok, and I just wanted to see you both one more time before the end.” He sighed. “I didn’t think much beyond that.” He started coughing and his hand went to his throat.