Page 72 of Beyond the Stix

“You don’t have to go through the trouble, Mom.”

“You’re my son. Besides, Pen loves it too.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it—Mom, I have to go, we’re ready to board.” I say, before adding, “Love you.”

“Love you, too. See you in a few,” she says before hanging up.

Pen and I settle in our seats, then he turns to me and asks, “What is your mother doing that I’ll appreciate?”

“She’s making country fried steak,” I explain with a shake of my head.

He rubs his hands together. “I love your mother’s steak.”

“That’s what she said.” Then I snort.

“Funny.”

“What did Tobias want?”

Pen stiffens a second in his seat, before he says, “He wanted to make sure we made it on the plane.”

He’s lying. I can tell. He’s not looking at me. One thing I’ve learned about being around our security team twenty-four seven, they are brutally honest. Especially Pen. When he istelling the truth, he stares you straight in the eyes. Right now? He’s studying the cell phone in his hand.

Could the text be about John? Is he okay?

Get a fucking grip, asshole. He doesn’t want you.

But I have to know. There’s only one person who will know and be willing to tell me. Danny.

I text him, asking if he knows what’s going on with Tobias’s text to Pen, but Danny doesn’t respond. He’s probably hanging with the guys and partying with the other bands. It is the last night of Rocktoberfest, after all. Realizing that, I don’t expect to get any response from him and stow my phone.

The flight to Chicago is uneventful, except for the mild turbulence when we hit rain near O’Hare. As Pen drives us home, I watch the rain outside the window. The slow drizzle coming down is a welcome sight. I love a rainy night, and wish I was in the tree house right now, enjoying the chilly October air.

When Pen pulls into the driveway, my mother is waiting for us on the stoop. I climb out of the car, and my mom greets me with a strong, welcome-home hug. God, I miss her hugs.

“Come in before we all look like drowned rats,” she says, tugging on my hand. “Pen, I have you set up in the spare bedroom.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wild,” Pen says as he places our bags by his feet.

“Oh, come on. Call me Amanda.” Mom taps his cheeks.

Pink floods the bodyguard’s face. He quickly picks up his bag and strides out of the entryway to the bedroom he’ll being sleeping in.

“You embarrassed him, Mom.” I chuckle.

“He’ll get over it. Come on. The food is getting cold.”

After Pen and I eat, he goes back to the spare bedroom, leaving my mother and me in the living room.

“Okay. What do you want to talk to me about, Connor?” she says, taking a seat on the love seat.

This is it.

I swallow past the ache in my throat, reach for her hand, and say, “It’s about Jessup.”

“What about your uncle?” Her fingers tighten around mine. “What did he do now?”

My eyes widen in surprise. “What made you say that?”