Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Lexi
There’s a sharp pain in my leg and I can’t catch my breath.
It’s loud but I can’t seem to hear anything.
“Lexi!” I know the voice but can’t quite place it.
“Lex, are you okay?”
The face in front of me swims a little but it comes into focus as I stare at it.
It’s Jonny.
From Crimson Edge.
Thank goodness.
I’m not necessarily afraid of the fans, but too many of them could be dangerous. Especially with me lying here on the floor.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. “Just knocked the wind out of me.”
At least, I hope that’s all it is.
“I’ve got you.” He pushes a few people out of the way and scoops me up like I’m weightless. I melt into him, trying to take a breath, but it feels like there’s something sitting on my chest.
Fuck.
The band is going to kill me.
What was I thinking?
We’d discussed the stage dive, and I’d been on the fence about it.
“Jonny!” Someone is calling to him, and the next thing I know I’m on a soft surface.
“Call an ambulance!” someone yells.
“No.” I somehow hiss out the word. “I’m okay. Just out of…breath.”
“You scared the fuck out of me, Lex.” Jonny is staring at me with concern.
“I’m…sorry. I don’t know…what happened?”
“From where I was standing, it looked like everyone was trying to get to you, to be part of the group holding you up, and somehow they knocked down the two guys who were actually holding you up.”
“Christ.”
Of all the bad luck.
I’ve done it dozens of times with no issues.
Why tonight?
Why now?
“We’ve paused the show,” Sasha says, running over to us. “Lexi, what do you need?”
“Just a minute… to catch my breath,” I repeat.
Fuck.
This could have been bad.
A literal disaster.
“Lex, maybe we should call a doctor,” Sasha whispers.
I meet her gaze without hesitation.
“Look, if something is going to happen, going to the hospital isn’t going to stop it.
” I sit up. “I’m okay. It knocked the wind out of me, but I don’t think I’m hurt.
” I’ve been slowly testing my limbs, and everything appears to be in working order.
My vision was fuzzy for a minute or two, but now that I can breathe again, it’s cleared up.
“Lexi!” My band comes running into the backstage area in a panic, and I feel a wave of guilt.
I shouldn’t have dived off the stage.
I know better, but I was having such a good time it was like my body did it before my brain could catch up. Nothing like this has ever happened before so there was no reason to think it would this time.
Except, you know, Murphy and his laws are kind of assholes.
This is the first time something to do with the pregnancy has given me pause, and though it was an accident, it’s a huge reminder of what’s to come. What my limitations are going to be. Hell, and this is just the beginning.
Intellectually, I know I’m pregnant.
I know I’ll gain weight and probably have a plethora of other symptoms to deal with, but this is the first time it’s felt real.
If I lose the baby, I can’t blame anyone but myself, but what’s the alternative?
There’s no way I can stay home for the next however long because this is what I do.
It’s part of who I am. What the hell am I going to do if I can’t perform?
I’m aware that it’s temporary and that lots of musicians and other performers take time off to have babies.
Except I’m not them and Nobody’s Fool is on the verge of greatness.
Our new album is selling well.
Really well.
So well that tickets for this upcoming tour are selling out in minutes.
This is everything we’ve worked for.
And I’m going to fuck it up for all of us.
“We should call it,” Bash says firmly. “Let’s go out there and explain—”
“No!” I’m firm this time, shaking my head. “I’m okay. Really. We’re going to finish the show.”
I see the guys looking at each other, and I get to my feet even though I probably should have sat a while longer.
“I’m fine,” I reiterate. “Seriously. Let’s go out there and finish. There’s only two more songs.”
“And then two for the encore,” Tyler says.
“I know. And I shouldn’t have dived—it was stupid, and I agree we need to take it out of the show. But for tonight, everything is okay. Really.”
I can see that they don’t believe me, but Stu finally nods. “All right, lass. We’ll go back out there—but you’re bringing a stool. Just in case.” His tone is serious, and his Scottish accent makes it that much more intense.
“All right,” I concede as graciously as I can.
I’m a little sore and it’s going to be hard to finish the show, but I just can’t show weakness. I don’t know why I feel this way, but the thought of not finishing the show makes me want to cry.
These hormones are completely out of control because I want to cry all the fucking time lately.
I have to call Dr. Diaz tomorrow.
Zaan is going to be pissed I did something so reckless.
Mack is probably going to have a lot to say about it too.
And if something happens to this baby… I’ll never forgive myself.
I can’t even entertain thoughts like that right now.
Four more songs.
I have to get through four songs.
Maybe half an hour talking to the press.
Then a ride to the hotel and a long soak in the tub.
And then, I’m going to have to call Zaan and tell him what happened because there’s no doubt in my mind the incident was recorded. Everyone has phones these days, so it’s going to be on the internet before we leave here. Hell, it probably already is.
That makes me want to cry too.
Shit.
Zaan is going to be pissed if he finds out before I can tell him.
And no one is going to be more upset than me if something happens to the baby.
Oh fuck.
I’m going to cry.