Chapter 26 A Heavy Burden
A HEAVY BURDEN
LILY
The plane lands smoothly, but I barely register it. My focus is on the guys, watching their postures shift under the growing weight of reality. The serenity of The Ranch, the moments we shared, already feels like a distant memory slipping through my fingers.
A van waits for us on the tarmac, its engine humming softly as the driver loads our luggage and we settle into our seats.
Once inside, the silence is almost suffocating.
Jax stares out the window, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee.
His pale skin and shadowed eyes are stark reminders of the battles he’s been fighting.
Beside him, Enzo sits with his arms crossed, his jaw tight and his scowl deepening as the miles roll by.
Marcus is behind me, his leg bouncing with barely contained energy, while Dylan idly tosses a drumstick into the air, catching it with practiced ease—but even his movements are laced with an underlying stress.
I want to say something, to ease the quiet or offer reassurance, but my own nerves choke the words before they form. I’m just as anxious about what’s waiting for us as they are.
When the van slows to a stop outside the lot holding our bus, my eyes immediately find Harris.
He’s leaning against the side of the bus, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze cutting through the distance.
His dark hair is slicked back, and his no-nonsense expression sends a chill through me.
There’s no welcome in his stance, no warmth—just the heavy weight of whatever truth he’s about to drop.
“Lily,” Harris calls, his voice clipped and sharp the second I step foot outside. “A word.”
I glance at the guys as they file onto the bus. Enzo pauses, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion, but he doesn’t speak. I force another smile, hoping it’s enough to keep him from asking questions.
“Go ahead,” I say lightly, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Harris gestures for me to follow him a few steps away from the bus. The cool breeze does little to calm the storm brewing in my chest.
“What’s going on, Harris?” I ask, trying to sound calm, though my stomach twists into knots. I force myself to meet his gaze, despite the dread curling in my chest like a coiled snake.
He turns to face me, his expression hard and unyielding. The sunlight sharpens the tightness of his features, making him look every bit the seasoned manager burdened with too many fires to put out.
“Lily,” he begins, his voice low but firm, “the label’s patience is gone.”
The words hit me harder than expected, but I force myself to stay composed. Things weren’t going well, but they’re going to be better. “The band has been working,” I say quickly, almost pleading. “The Ranch gave everyone time to regroup. They’ve got new music—”
“It’s not enough,” Harris cuts me off, his voice sharper now.
“Jax’s meltdown, canceled shows, delays—it’s all piling up.
Revenue is down, and the label isn’t going to wait much longer.
This tour is their last shot. If it doesn’t go flawlessly, they’re pulling the plug.
One mistake, Lily, and the band is done. Do you understand?”
The enormity of his words crashes down on me, and I struggle to steady my breath.
“We won’t make another mistake,” I whisper, though the promise feels fragile.
Harris softens slightly, but his gaze remains piercing. “You don’t have any room left for error. None. The label’s already looking for a reason to cut you loose, even something minor—a late bus, a missing speaker. They’re watching, and they’re waiting. No more chances.”
I glance toward the bus, where faint laughter filters through the open door. The guys have no idea how precarious our situation is.
“Do they know?” I ask, dreading the answer.
Harris shakes his head. “No. I’m telling you because you’re the one holding their strings right now. If they know just how close they are to losing everything, it could break them. But it’s your decision. You know them better than I do.”
I nod slowly, my mind spinning. The thought of keeping this from them feels wrong, but Harris has a point. The pressure might shatter the fragile stability we’ve worked so hard to rebuild.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally, my voice tight.
Harris studies me for a long moment, then sighs. “I don’t want this band to fail, Lily. But it’s up to them, and up to you, to make this work. No mistakes. No excuses.”
I nod and murmur, “I understand.”
With that, he turns and heads toward his car, leaving me standing there, the weight of his words pressing down like a boulder on my chest.
When I step onto the bus, the usual chaos greets me. Marcus is in the corner, tuning his guitar with a focused intensity. Dylan sprawls on the couch, flipping his drumsticks with casual precision. Enzo and Jax are in the middle of a quiet argument, their low voices carrying an edge of tension.
I watch them, enjoying the normalcy and wanting to live in this moment forever. If only that was possible.
“Hey, you okay?” Marcus asks, his blue eyes flicking to mine as I pause in the doorway.
I force a smile, though my stomach churns with the burden I’m carrying. “Yeah,” I lie. “Just a tough talk with Harris.”
Enzo raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t press. “What’d he want?”
“Updates,” I say lightly, brushing it off. “He’s just keeping tabs.”
Jax looks up, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “We’re good, though, right?”
“Yeah,” I lie again, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. “We’re good.”
I sink into a seat, letting their banter wash over me like white noise. The weight of Harris’s warning feels unbearable, but I can’t bring myself to tell them—not yet.
There’s still a chance, no matter how slim, that we can pull this off. I need to give them every opportunity to succeed without the added pressure.
If they lose the band, I don’t know what will happen—to them, to me, to everything they’ve built together.
For now, the truth can wait.