10. Ten
Ten
Sam
The roar of the crowd hits me the moment I step onto the stage. The sold-out Jacksonville Arena is alive, fifteen thousand people packed into the seats, the air electric with anticipation. The energy is unlike anything I’ve felt in a long time.
Cass leads the way to the center, his guitar slung casually over his shoulder, his easy confidence radiating off him. Nate’s already behind his drums, twirling his sticks, while Vince and Luke adjust their instruments. I grip my guitar, and the familiar weight steadies me as I take my spot.
Cass steps up to the mic, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “Jacksonville, it’s good to be home!”
The crowd goes wild, the floor beneath us vibrating from the sheer volume.
“This one’s for all of you,” Cass says, flashing his signature grin before launching into the opening chords of our first song.
The music takes over, the familiar rhythms coursing through me like second nature. My fingers glide over the strings, the notes pouring out of me in a way that feels effortless. The crowd is on their feet, singing along to every word, their voices blending with Cass’s in perfect harmony.
Moments like these remind me why I do this, why I love it.
The set flies by in a blur of lights and sound, each song flowing seamlessly into the next. By the time we hit the halfway point, the energy in the arena is palpable, a living, breathing thing that feeds off the music and throws it back at us tenfold.
Cass pauses between songs to catch his breath, the crowd wildly cheering as he steps up to the mic. “How are we doing, Jacksonville?”
The response is deafening.
“We’ve got a few more for you,” he says, strumming the opening notes of one of our biggest hits. “But first, I want to take a second to say thank you. Thank you for making this night unforgettable.”
The crowd erupts again, and I can’t help but grin as I glance over at Cass. He’s always been good at this—at connecting with the fans, making them feel like they’re part of something bigger.
We dive into the next song, the familiar chords filling the air. It’s one of my favorites to play, the kind of song that makes you lose yourself in the music.
I catch sight of Emily standing off to the side of the stage, a sweet smile playing on her lips. Something warm unfolds in my chest at the sight of her —not the usual heat of desire, but something deeper, more tender. The stage lights catch her face just right, making her glow, and for a moment, it's like she's the only person in the arena.
By the time we hit the encore, the crowd is at a fever pitch, their energy driving us to give it everything we’ve got. Cass steps back to let the spotlight shine on Luke and Vince during their solos, and I take a moment to soak it all in—the lights, the cheers, the way the music vibrates through my bones.
When the final note fades, the applause is deafening, the crowd chanting for more. Cass steps back up to the mic, wiping the sweat from his brow as he smiles at the sea of people.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice warm and sincere, “for being here tonight, for sharing this moment with us. Jacksonville, you’re amazing!”
The cheers grow louder, and I can feel the pride swelling in my chest. This is what it’s all about.
Cass glances over at me, then at the rest of the band, before turning back to the crowd. “Before we wrap this up, there’s someone I want to acknowledge. Someone who’s been working her ass off behind the scenes to make nights like this possible.”
“Emily,” Cass says, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “Come out here.”
The crowd cheers, and I glance toward the wings to see Emily standing there, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Don’t make me come get you,” Cass teases, and the crowd laughs.
I catch her eye with a grin, and after a moment, she steps forward, the spotlight catching her as she walks onto the stage.
Cass meets her halfway, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he turns back to the mic.
“For those of you who don’t know,” he says, grinning, “this is my sister, Emily. She’s not just my sister—she’s our manager. And let me tell you, she’s damn good at her job.”
The crowd cheers, their applause echoing through the arena as Emily blushes, her expression a mix of embarrassment and pride.
“She’s the reason we’re here tonight,” Cass continues, his tone sincere. “She’s the reason we’ve been able to take things to the next level. And I think she deserves a hell of a lot of credit for everything she’s done for us.”
The applause swells, the crowd chanting her name, and I can see the way her shoulders straighten, the sparkle in her eyes as she takes it all in.
“Say hi to the crowd, Em,” Cass says, holding the mic out to her.
She hesitates for a moment, then leans in, her voice steady despite her obvious nerves. “Hi, everyone.”
The crowd roars, and I can’t help but smile as I watch her. She looks radiant under the lights, her usual calm professionalism giving way to something more genuine.
Cass hugs her again before turning back to the crowd. “All right, let’s give it up for Emily one more time!”
The applause is deafening, and as Emily steps back toward the wings, she glances over at me, our eyes meeting for a fleeting moment of connection. Then, her smile freezes, replaced by a look of sheer panic. Her hand reaches out, grasping for anything, but finds nothing. Her steps falter, and she stumbles, her knees buckling beneath her.
The world tilts as, in slow motion, she collapses onto the stage.
“Emily!”
Her name tears out of my throat as I watch her fall. Immediately, I sprint toward her, skidding to my knees beside her, my guitar forgotten on the stage. Her face is pale, her eyes closed, and she’s frighteningly still.
Cass is also there, his face pale, and his voice panicked as he asks, “What happened? Is she—”
“She’s breathing,” I say, my voice shaking as I check for a pulse. It’s there, faint but steady. Relief floods through me, but it’s fleeting. She’s still unconscious.
“Paramedics!” someone shouts, and I hear the rush of footsteps behind us.
As if on cue, they rush in, their voices calm but urgent as they assess her. I’m shoved back slightly, and I want to fight them to be closer, but I force myself to stay out of the way.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” one of them says, shining a light into her eyes.
Her face remains slack, her skin pale under the harsh glare of the stage lights.
“Is she going to be okay?” Cass demands, his voice rough.
“She’s stable, but we need to get her to the hospital,” one of the paramedics says, motioning for us to step back.
The crowd gasps as the stretcher rolls out from backstage. Cameras flash, and the low murmur of voices grows louder as the paramedics lift her onto it. Cass grabs her hand, his face etched with concern.
“Can someone ride with her?” I ask, pushing my way forward.
The lead paramedic looks up, his expression apologetic. “One family member can accompany her in the ambulance. Hospital policy.”
“I’m going,” Cass says immediately, stepping forward.
“No,” I say, the word sharp and instinctive as I move to block him. “I’ll go.”
Cass stares at me, confused and angry. “Sam, I’m her brother—”
“I’m her husband,” I interrupt, glancing at the paramedic, the words falling from my mouth before I can think better of it.
The silence that follows is deafening.
Cass blinks, his jaw tightening as he processes what I’ve just said. The rest of the band looks just as stunned, their wide eyes bouncing between Emily and me, the silence stretching like an uncomfortable eternity.
“You’re what?” Cass demands, his voice dangerously low.
“I’ll explain later,” I say, my tone firm. “Right now, I’m going with her.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to argue, but then he nods, stepping back reluctantly.
The paramedics gesture for me to follow, and I don’t hesitate. I’m vaguely aware of the flashes going off again and the crowd murmuring in confusion and shock, but none of it matters.
All that matters is Emily.
The doors close, and the noise of the outside world is replaced by the steady beeping of medical equipment and the low hum of the engine.
“Her vitals are stable,” one of the paramedics says, adjusting an IV line. “Has she been under any unusual stress lately?”
“She’s been working nonstop,” I say, my voice tight. “She’s exhausted.”
The paramedic nods, jotting something down on a clipboard. “We’ll run tests at the hospital to confirm, but it’s possible she collapsed from overexertion. Does she have any medical conditions we should know about?”
“No,” I say automatically, then falter. “At least... I don’t think so.”
The rest of the ride is a blur. I hold her hand in the ambulance, my thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. She feels so small, so fragile, and I'm struck by an overwhelming need to protect her. The steady beep of the monitors becomes my lifeline, each sound confirming she's still with me.
“You’re going to be okay,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “You have to be.”
The hospital is a whirlwind of motion and noise as we arrive. The stretcher disappears through a set of double doors, and I’m left standing in the hallway, my hands clenched into fists.
A nurse approaches me, her face kind but professional. “You’re her husband?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“Wait here,” she instructs. “The doctor will update you as soon as possible.”
I nod, sinking into one of the hard plastic chairs lining the corridor. My heart hammering nervously, and my mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios.
Cass, Kendrick, and a frightened Cassidy burst through the door minutes later, their faces etched with worry. Cass heads straight for me, his eyes blazing.
“What the hell is going on?” he demands, his voice low but sharp.
I stand, running a hand through my hair. “Cass, not here.”
“No, right here,” he snaps. “You just told an entire arena full of people that you’re married to my sister. I think I deserve an explanation,” his voice is low but furious. “You’re her husband? Since when?”
“It’s a long story,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face. “I’ll explain later.”
“Later?” Cass snaps, his hands clenching into fists. “She’s lying in a hospital bed, and you’re telling me later?”
“Cass,” Kendrick’s voice cuts in as she appears beside him, her hand on his arm. “Emily is what matters right now.”
Cass exhales sharply, his anger giving way to worry once again. “She’ll be okay, right?”
“She has to be,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, and we both sink into the chairs, the tension between us strained but unspoken for now.
It feels like an eternity before a doctor finally appears.
“Family of Emily Wild?” he asks, and we all stand at once.
“She’s stable,” he says, his tone calm. “Her collapse was caused by extreme exhaustion and dehydration, but we’ve given her fluids, and she’s responding well.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relief washing over me.
“However,” the doctor continues, his gaze flicking to me, “We also ran some tests to rule out other causes for her symptoms. That’s when we discovered something else.”
My chest tightens. “What… What else is wrong with her?”
“Nothing is wrong.” The doctor hesitates, then smiles faintly. “Your wife is pregnant.”
The words hit like a freight train. I glance at Cass, whose mouth has fallen open. Kendrick and Cassidy’s faces light up with a mix of shock and joy.
“Pregnant?” I echo the word foreign on my tongue. “She’s having a baby?”
“Yes, congratulations.” The doctor confirms. “She’s 2 to 3 months along. That, combined with the stress and lack of hydration, likely contributed to her collapse. She’ll need to take it easy for a while, but there’s no cause for alarm.”
Pregnant. She’s having my baby.
The words echo in my mind, and suddenly everything shifts. Something fierce and tender blooms in my chest. It's not just Emily anymore—it's Emily and our baby. The need to protect them both hits me like a physical force, and I know in that moment that everything has changed.
Gone are the doubts and the fears. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her and our baby safe.