Chapter 17
chapter
seventeen
“Not every broken thing needs fixing. Some things need understanding.” – Cyrus
HAVEN
My phone rings, and I jump. The Venomous song is loud as it plays in Cy’s quiet, hospital room.
I quickly answer so I don’t disturb him.
“Dad?” My voice is a whisper.
“Hey, Rock Star, are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Dad. I’m really freaked out. One minute Cy was fine, then the next he collapsed on the stage in front of thousands of people,” I say softly.
“What have the doctors said?”
The man of the hour is lying so still. I don’t want to say too much, not yet. Not until Cy has the chance to tell his side of the events.
“Maybe overexertion. Maybe a medication conflict. Maybe dehydration. Maybe a combination. We’ll know more once Cy wakes up and can give us some answers.”
“Tell him I’m on my way,” Anita shrieks in the background.
I cover my eyes. Oh dear god, the last thing any of us needs, least of all Cy, is his mother coming here.
“You don’t have to come home from Brazil early. I’ll call with updates. And I’m sure Cy will call as soon as he wakes up.”
“I’m his mother,” she practically growls, the sound so loud she might as well have yelled it. Demon. That’s the only word that comes to mind. “We’re both coming, and don’t you think for one minute that you’re keeping me away from my son.”
I really want to say, “You mean your money maker,” but for Cy’s sake, I keep my mouth shut.
“I’d never dream of it,” I say sarcastically.
My father clears his throat.
“We’ll get ahead of this. Declan has already done a great job. You just focus on Cy, and we’ll see you sometime today,” he says briskly.
“But, Dad—”
“Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time a star has collapsed, and it won’t be the last. You need to prep a PR statement,” he instructs, but if feels more like he is just giving me busy work.
“You’re now a face for the company and will need to update your socials.
Once he’s awake, get him in the hospital bed, waving for the camera. They’ll love that.”
I glare at my phone.
“I’m not turning this moment into a circus. What the hell?”
“You do what your father says. We need to protect Cyrus by making sure the fans are behind him, not against him. You’d think you’d know that from all of your so-called schooling,” Anita says.
I want to reach through the phone and choke her.
“Can we not treat him like a headline for five fucking minutes?”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line.
“Rock Star, I know you care about him. I get it, we all do. But this is part of the job. We need to remain loyal and loving, but diligent about the business. Two hats, Haven. Two hats and you need to wear both at the same time. Understand?”
“I guess.”
“Good, then it’s settled. Figure out ways we can spin this for positive PR. See you soon. Love you, Rock Star.”
Click.
I stare at the glowing screen in disbelief.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Lying my head back, I close my eyes and try not to let the conversation or this moment get to me, but I fail miserably.
The scent of lemony disinfectant, the squeak of the nurse’s shoes in the hall, even the sound of a car horn from the street below all set me more on edge.
I assumed the worst was over when Cy was brought into this room, and the doctor spoke to us. But the waiting is so much worse. I sat in a room just like this and watched my mother slowly wither away one drip of chemo at a time. I’m not sure I can ever do that again.
Needing something to focus on, I end up staring at the hands of the clock as they slowly move around the face. Each hour feels like an eternity. Eleven. Twelve. One. Two. Three. They all come and go. It’s now 3:27 a.m., and I know I need sleep, but it’s no use.
“I’m going to get coffee. Do you want one?”
My eyes open, and I look at Ledger.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks,” I say, and he disappears.
I’ve been sitting here long enough that my ass is numb. Long enough to remember the way Cyrus once sang in the middle of the night a song with my name in it just to annoy me. Long enough to remember every word we ever said to one another.
His monitors beep steadily, and of course, all I can think is that it’s a killer beat. My mind is a mess. Without consciously doing it, my eyes lock on Cy’s still face once more.
Tubes snake from his arms, and one is blowing oxygen into his nose. He looks so serene. So human. So…not the Cy I know. The one who haunts my dreams and taunts me from the corners of my mind.
I stand from my chair and cross the room to the window. It’s dark outside in the early morning hours with only a smattering of cars traveling to…destinations unknown.
What the hell am I doing here?
The plan was to work with my father, give us a chance to reconnect, and embark on a new chapter in our lives, running LG Records together.
Instead, I haven’t even seen him, and he has me on rockstar babysitting duty.
I’ve been reduced to making sure that the band, aka Cyrus, doesn’t implode during this tour. So far…epic fail.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, I look back at the bed. I really thought I’d moved on from all of this. The emotions, the drama, me practically mothering Cy because his mother is…well, not Mother of the Year. This is a toxic cycle on repeat, and the longer I stay, the deeper I’ll sink.
I can feel it in my bones.
But can I leave again? Can I walk away from the company that I’ve always dreamed of running? Walk away from my legacy? All that will prove is that I can’t hack it, and I’m running from Cyrus all over again.
“Fuck,” I mumble.
“Fuck what?”
I jump at the sound of Ledger’s voice.
He is standing in the middle of the doorway holding two coffees.
“Sorry, was just thinking out loud.” I cross the room and take the caffeinated offering. The takeout cup is warm in my cold hands and feels amazing. “Thanks.”
“No prob. Any change?”
I shake my head.
“Okay, I’ll go sit with the others unless you want me to keep you company.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m busy berating myself and prefer to face the internal humiliation alone.”
Ledger chuckles and bows his head as he backs out of the room.
“Far be it from me to interrupt a self-flagellation session.”
Laughing, I head back to my window as he quietly closes the door, but movement catches my attention. I stop and focus on Cyrus, holding my breath. There it is…a flutter of fingers. My stupid heart soars at the thought he may be waking up.
I’m warring with old emotions that I’ve buried instead of facing. That deep and disturbing issue is for another time.
Cyrus’s lashes move, and I grab his hand. His eyes open, and he looks around, confused. He blinks like he’s having trouble focusing.
“Cy?”
His head slowly turns in my direction.
“Ha…ven?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and squeeze his hand tighter. I don’t know if I want to cry, kiss him, or scream.
“Do you remember what happened?”
He licks his lips. “Water.”
Picking up the plastic cup, I hold the straw to his lips. His eyes remain locked on mine as he drinks. Finishing, he tries to sit up.
“Here, let me.”
I press the buttons on the side of his bed until he is upright.
“Thanks. I was…I was about to sing the encore and—I remember falling and you running toward me, but that’s it.”
“You collapsed and were rushed to the hospital. We’re in a private room.”
He looks around. “And you came?”
“Yeah, of course. Where else would I be?”
He blinks again. “You came,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.
There is something about how he says those two words that lances my heart. I can feel the loneliness and sadness, but I don’t understand it. He’s always been the center of everyone’s orbit. Sadly, including my own.
“You scared the shit out of me, you…you…ass,” I mumble, but there is no real heat in the insult, and his lip twitches.
He squints and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Can you turn off the lights. They’re hurting my eyes,” Cy says, waving his arm toward the wall. “My head is pounding.”
“Well, you did drop center stage like a lead singer with a flair for dramatics,” I tease, walking to the door. “In other words, right on brand.”
“Great. Fucking great.”
“It will be fine. In fact, the fans are going crazy with worry. There are over five million views and loads of comments. I love you, Cy. Please be okay, Cy. OMG noooo not Cy,” I say, clutching my hands over my heart as I hit the lights. “Do you want me to tell the guys you’re awake?”
Cy shakes his head.
“I can’t handle them yet.”
He doesn’t say anything else but continues to stare at me as I return to the seat by his bed. I sip my coffee and ignore the sharp, bitter taste burning my throat. Cy suddenly smirks.
“Sit here.” He pats the bed and then holds out his hand. “It’s hard to see you there.”
The glutton for punishment I am, I stupidly do as he asks. I swear I need my head examined, or maybe an exorcism to rid this man from my life.
“Where is everyone?”
“The guys are down the hall in a sitting room. Your mom and my dad are on the way back from Brazil. Declan, I have no clue.”
“And you’re in here with me,” he whispers, and I fidget.
“I am, but don’t let it go to your head. It’s not like we’re friends again or anything. Not that we were ever really friends, I guess,” I ramble, and then shake my head. “You know what I mean.”
His thumb traces over the back of my hand softly as his eyes search my face.
“You were the last thing I saw. Right before everything went dark. I thought...I thought I was going to die out there, and your face was the only one I wanted to see.”
“Don’t, Cy,” I say, looking away and biting my lip. “I can’t do this.”
I blink back tears as relief washes over me, but it is mixed with a deep longing that I’m trying desperately to ignore. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds me tighter. His eyes cloud with something heavier.
“Haven. I don’t want to die without telling you...without…I…fuck.”
My eyebrow raises. “You fuck? I think I know that.”
He rolls his eyes at my poor attempt at humor.
“No. It’s just…”
He doesn’t finish. He just looks away and refuses to let go of me. I lean in and kiss the back of his hand, letting the beeps, the IV drip, and the quiet hold us.
“I think you should just get some rest. The doctor will want to talk to you soon.”
“Please don’t go.”
I search his face and swallow hard.
“Cy…you know I’m engaged.”
“And I know he’s a fucking prick and doesn’t deserve you. Please stay.”
“You just said please twice.” I joke, choosing to ignore the first part of that statement and to hide the torrent of emotions swirling in my chest.
Asshole. He always knows how to pull me back into his orbit, which is as damaging as the sun’s surface. I get burnt every time. Apparently, I haven’t learned from my mistakes.
He doesn’t smile, smirk or laugh. I’ve never seen him like this before, and the fact that he isn’t shrugging it off or telling me to go fuck myself scares me more than the collapse itself.
“Okay, I’ll stay,” I finally say.
His eyes flick up to meet mine. “Even though I don’t deserve it?”
I snort. “Has there ever been a time you deserved it?”
“No. No, definitely not.”
My smile falters as he closes his eyes. A tear slides down his cheek, but I look away and smooth his sheets. Pulling the chair closer, I lay my head on the bed and close my eyes. My body stills as he rubs his thumb over my jaw.
“Cy.”
“What? I’m behaving. I just need the contact.”
“I’d hate to see you not behaving,” I mumble, hating myself for loving his touch. I soak it up like it is a drink of water I’ve been dying to taste.
“Yeah, you’d look really fucking hot in a hospital gown riding my cock.”
I sit up. “Okay, that’s it. I can’t do this.”
Cy snatches my hand before I can escape.
“I’m sorry. It was supposed to be funny.”
“Jesus. I got two pleases and an ‘I’m sorry.’ You really are sick.”
He refuses to let go and just stares at me with those icy blue eyes that I can still see as clear as day despite the lights being off.
God, why am I so weak when it comes to this man?
I relax, and he links our fingers together. Giving in to the exhaustion, I put my head down and use our hands as my pillow.
“Want to lie beside me?”
“Don’t press your luck,” I say, making him chuckle.
“Had to try.”
Now that the fear and adrenaline have worn off, I’m ready to pass out, and that is exactly what I do, and don’t care how it looks to anyone who walks in.