Chapter Seventeen
EFFA
In my giraffe onesie, I’m lounging in the green room, aimlessly scrolling through my phone. After today’s chat with Kiera and Gran, I feel this pull, something soft and real. I decide it’s time to reach out and try to build something with Kiera.
It doesn’t take long to find her on Facebook, so I add her as a friend. While I wait for her to accept, I scroll through her public profile. There’s not much to see, mostly playlists and a few music posts. Turns out she’s a big music fan, including us, which makes me smile.
But what catches my attention is all the posts on her wall.
A lot of them are shared from friends, including articles and links about medical remedies, herbal treatments, and nutritional supplements.
At first, I wonder if maybe she’s into natural healing, or maybe even weed.
That would make sense, right? Especially considering Mercs is so anti-pot. It might be some family trauma thing.
Still curious, I scroll to her photo gallery.
They’re mostly of her, Mercs, and Gran. The three of them together, happy in each other’s company. But the more I study the pictures, the more I notice something that makes my breath catch.
The beanies.
In every single image, Kiera’s wearing some kind of hat or beanie, and they’re pulled low. No hairline, no strands peeking out, just scalp.
I flick through more photographs and find the same thing.
And then it hits me.
Like a damn freight train to the chest.
She’s skin and bones.
Her face is gaunt.
The beanies aren’t some kind of fashion statement.
Kiera has cancer.
The butterflies in my stomach turn vicious.
Not the fluttery, cute kind either. It’s the gnawing, clawing, stomach-acid-churning kind.
The kind that says everything is wrong. The herbal remedies, the lack of hair, the images where Kiera looks too pale, too thin.
Her breathlessness when she ran to the phone.
The way Mercs shuts down when she’s mentioned.
Good Lord! His sister is sick.
A notification pings at the top of my screen—Kiera has accepted your friend request—and a tiny smile slips onto my face despite the way my heart is sinking.
“You look deep in thought,” a familiar, low voice cuts through the quiet.
I glance up, warmth washing over me the second I see him. Mercs leans in the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest, that soft smile on his face doing things to my insides he’ll never understand.
“I am,” I murmur, setting my phone aside. “Kiera just accepted my friend request.”
His expression shifts instantly.
The warmth vanishes.
His arms drop, and he starts toward me, something hollow flashing in his eyes. “You friended Kiera on Facebook?” he asks, stepping closer.
I stand, confused. “Well, yeah. I figured it was the right thing to do. She’s a fan and your sister.”
He exhales sharply, raking his hand through his hair. His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “What did you see?”
My heart cracks. “It’s okay, Mercs. I’m so sorry.”
His lips tug into a hard, broken frown. He pauses, staring into my eyes with this desperate ache that makes my own chest seize. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want to lose her, Effa.”
The bottom falls out of my stomach. I lunge toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and hold tight, like maybe I can will my strength into him. “Of course you don’t,” I whisper.
“She’s my baby sister,” he rasps. “I helped raise her. Watching her fade away like this…” He swallows hard again, his voice growing hoarse.
“It’s killing me, especially when she’s violently sick from the chemo.
Hours spent curled up against the toilet.
When all her hair fell out. When she can’t even stand some days.
Fuck. A piece of me dies every time I see it. ”
My throat tightens. “She can beat it, though, right?”
His arms tense. “She has Acute Myeloid Leukemia. And I… I don’t know.
I want to believe she can. But some days, it feels like I’m lying to myself.
” He leans against me, sagging under the weight of it all.
“There’s a procedure. A stem cell transplant.
They’re going to try to use mine. The odds are around eighty-five percent of success.
I know that sounds high, but it’s not high enough for me. ”
I pull back slightly to meet his gaze. His eyes are red and glassy.
“We’re gonna help her through this,” I say with everything I’ve got. “You, me, Gran, the girls, the crew. We’ve got her, Mercs. You just have to let us.”
He nods slightly. “She’s my whole world. Dad walked out when we were little. Mom died from cancer when I was fifteen… Kiera was eight. It’s just us. And Gran.”
I reach for his hands and grip tight. “You have me now, too.”
His eyes lock on mine. “I should’ve told you.
I wanted to. But saying it out loud, admitting that s-she’s…
” his voice breaks, body shuddering, “… dying.” The last word cracks like glass.
“I just… I want to be strong for you. But when it comes to her, I’m weak.
She’s the one thing that can and does break me. ”
I cup his cheek, brushing my thumb across the stubble there, trying to soothe him. “Hey, she’s okay right now. You still have time. And if you need to leave the tour for the procedure, you go, Mercs. We’ll survive. She’s far more important.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t yet. We have to wait until everything’s in place.”
“Fine. But when the time comes, don’t wait. Don’t you dare wait.”
He winces, nodding softly. Then he pulls me in and kisses me, slowly, gently, just a brush of lips, but it says everything.
“I wish I’d told you sooner,” he murmurs. “Finding out the way you did, that must’ve gutted you.”
“It did,” I admit. “It was all I could do not to fall apart.”
He leans back just enough to study me. His jaw clenches as I continue, “I’m so sorry, Mercs.
For Kiera, for what you’re carrying. And I want you to know, if you ever need to talk, if you need to cry, rage, or fall apart, that I’ll be here.
You won’t be less of a man to me. You’ll be more of one for letting me in. ”
His eyes shut for a beat, then reopen, and they are burning with gratitude and grief.
“I hate being away from her while she’s sick.
I hate missing time that could be her last. But I’m doing it to try to extend her life.
Catch-22, right?” He exhales. “I couldn’t handle it alone.
But now that I have you, maybe I don’t have to. ”
“You don’t,” I say firmly. “Whatever you need, you tell me.” I wrap my arms around him and kiss him with everything I have, pouring all my love and strength into him.
He kisses me back, soft but desperate.
I’ll be what he needs.
I’ll be his anchor.
His safe place.
His strength.
Hell, I’ll pay for her treatment myself if it’ll help save her.
And I’ll do it without hesitation.
***
After our chat and spending some quality time together, Mercs had to leave to get set up for tonight’s concert.
With everything that’s happened, my chest feels tight, my thoughts messy. I need to center myself and find my calm. I roll out my yoga mat, turn on my positive affirmation tracks, and light some incense to shift the heavy energy still clinging to me.
Waves crash gently in the background while the seagulls call in the distance.
The familiar soundscape soothes me as the soft scent of jasmine and juniper fills the room, making it homey, grounding, and warm.
This is my place, my sacred space, where the chaos outside fades, replaced by soft ocean tides and gentle mental clarity.
I close my eyes, focusing on my breath, the movement of the water, the way it laps at my spirit.
I’m in the middle of a downward dog when light footsteps break through the stillness.
I glance up to see Kristy entering the green room.
Just like that—zen gone.
She doesn’t even look up, head buried in her phone as she walks over and sits on the sofa like she owns the place. I follow her, dropping onto the seat beside her.
She gives me a small smile, eyes still locked on her screen. “Hey, Effa.”
I frown and nudge her shoulder. “How did you even know it was me when you’re so lost in whatever’s going on in your phone?”
She taps her screen, then glances at me with a knowing smirk. “Jasmine and juniper, ocean waves…. has you written all over it. Plus, who else would be here this early?”
I sigh, leaning back and noticing her phone screen—our Instagram account.
“And what brings you in early?”
She shrugs, casually. “The TV in my room’s busted, and Alana’s busy. Thought I’d come get some behind-the-scenes shots for the fans. Pre-concert arena vibes.”
I nod, appreciating her dedication, then I slump further into the cushions. The yoga helped, for a bit. But now that I’m still again, the weight of everything Mercs shared crashes back in. The haunted look in his eyes, the way he said dying, it all sits heavy in my chest.
Kristy glances over, picking up on my energy immediately. Her brows pull together, and she tilts her head. “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”
They always know.
She and Alana have a sixth sense when something’s not right with me.
“I just found something out,” I murmur. “And I don’t know how to process it.”
She puts her phone down and gives me her full attention. “Let me guess… Mercs?”
I nod and exhale. “I added his sister on Facebook, and let’s just say, I discovered something I wasn’t expecting.”
Kristy lets out a slow breath. “Are you gonna keep being cryptic, or?”
“I don’t know if it’s my story to tell.”
Her hand comes to rest on my knee, warm and steady. “No pressure. You know me, I won’t push. Just know, I’m here when you’re ready. But bottling it up? Not your strong suit.”
“Kiera has cancer.” Goddammit, the words rush out faster than I mean them to. I can’t help it, I needed to say it.
Kristy blinks, then smiles softly. “Well, that was easier than I thought.”
I groan and lean back into the couch. “Ugh. How do you always do that?”
She shrugs. “It’s a gift. But seriously, Effa, I’m really sorry. That’s heavy. No wonder you’re all twisted up. Is she going to be okay?”
“Mercs said there’s a stem cell procedure. But they’re waiting for the right timing. I didn’t want to push for more.”
Kristy nods, considering my words. “Just be there for him. And when you meet Kiera, be real. I’ve heard it’s better to acknowledge cancer than ignore it. The last thing she needs is people walking on eggshells around her.”
I give her a weak smile. “When did you get all insightful?”
“What do you mean? ‘I am, after all, me,’ ” she says, quoting Working Girl with a cheeky grin.
I roll my eyes and nudge her. “I should go find Mercs. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Hug him from me. Wait, no, don’t. I’m not supposed to know. But give him some extra love anyway.”
“Thanks, Kristy. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Standing, I head for the door, heart still heavy, but with purpose in my steps.
I need to find Mercs.
I just hope he’s not carrying all of this alone.