Page 5 of Beyond the Stix

“You’re always hungry,” I chuff. But I can’t help swinging my attention back to John. “John says Joe can’t come with us.”

“Actually, I can’t.” Joe’s shoulders slump forward. “I have some things here I need to finish,” he admits, his attention shifting to John. “We’ll talk later?”

“Sure.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

What the fuck ever.

“Let’s get out of here, I need food.” Danny nudges me toward the door before he takes Tobias’s hand.

“I’ll give you something to eat,” Tobias whispers in Danny’s ears, but I hear it.

“Will you two shut that shit down?” I cover my ears with both hands. “Lalalalala. My poor brain can’t handle such gushy, lovey-dovey crap anymore.” I mock shudder.

“Stop fucking around and let’s go,” Raef calls over his shoulder.

“I’m coming.” I reply, dropping my hands. Suddenly, I feel heat at my back.

I freeze on the spot as John whispers into my ear. “You’re not coming yet, but that can be arranged.” He then passes me, a triumphant smirk on his face, and strides right out the door with the rest of the group.

My mouth drops open in shock as my dick stands to attention.Damn it.I will my cock to go down.

The man hasn’t given me the time of day for seven fucking months, and then all of a sudden, he whispers that shit to me?

I want to tell him,you fucking wish, when my cell goes off.

I pull out my phone, glance down at the screen, and see it’s my mother’s number. Normally, we talk on the weekends. So, this impromptu Thursday call has me quickly tapping the screen. “Hey?—”

“Connor, you need to come home,” she chokes out as her sob tears through the phone.

I don’t understand some of the words she’s saying. “Mom, slow down. What happened?”

“Your father. He collapsed at work. A heart attack—I don’t know—he’s not waking up—just come home,” she wails.

“What hospital?” I gulp down the sharp pain growing in the back of my throat. My eyes sting from impending tears, but I suck in a ragged breath and look at my friends, who are all now crowding around me.

“Lutheran General,” she sobs loudly.

“Alright. Just hold on, Mom. I’ll catch the soonest flight out.”

“O-kay,” she says with a hitch. “Connor?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“Hurry. The doctors don’t think your father will make it through the night,” she says before hanging up.

My mother’s dire declaration is a hard blow to my solar plexus. All the air in my lungs escapes, leaving me suddenly hollow and fearful that I won’t make it in time to see my father.

“What happened?” Danny frantically asks, reaching for me.

“My dad. Mom says he collapsed. Heart attack or something—she’s not sure. I have to get to the hospital.” A blanket of ice wraps around me, and I shiver. I might lose my father, the one man who gave me the world. And the last words I said to him were bitter and cutting.

“Then we head home,” Danny affirms, drop-kicking me out of my thoughts. His fingers grip my hand tight. He’s an anchor to the brewing storm whirling inside me. He’s the only one who knows about the argument I had with my father, and how I haven’t talked to him in several months—not even after the concert at the Ball Arena he and my uncle supposedly went to.

I wish I could take back all the nasty words I said to Dad, and tell him I’m sorry for being a fucking idiot. I’d even give Jessupall the concert tickets he wants, if it guarantees that my father will live.

“I’m calling the higher ups,” Ron says. “They might let us use the company jet.” Our band manager puts the cellphone to his ear and steps away.

For some reason, the heat at my back gives me comfort. Assuming it’s one of my friends, I turn my head, and instead I find John. The strength evident in his gaze only bolsters my need to remain calm and think positive thoughts about my father’s condition. But there’s really no illusion possible after my mother’s words that Dad’s at death’s door.