“Oh hell yes, she does.”
“This isn’t just about Mia.” When he continued scoffing at me, I shook my head. “This is bigger than the both of us now. I’ve got a kid on the way, and I gotta be the best damn father in the whole fucking world.”
Rhys took one hand off the wheel to pat me reassuringly on the shoulder. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I have no doubt about that.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so.” He turned to me and grinned. “But you may wanna start working on your language.”
I grimaced. “Sh-I mean, shoot. I really do swear like a sailor.”
With a laugh, Rhys replied, “You’re probably okay. I mean, considering Bray is his dad and he’s surrounded by us, look all the f-bombs Jude grew up with, and he’s just fine.”
“Yeah, that was Jude, but how quickly you forget that after da-da and ma-ma, Melody managed to say shit and damn.”
“Oops, I forgot about that one.”
We were making good time when one glance in the rearview mirror sent my stomach plummeting. Blue lights from an Atlanta Police Department cruiser flashed all around us. “Fuuuuuuuuck!” One peek at the clock sent me pounding my fist against the dash. “I’m screwed.”
“Easy man,” Rhys replied as he eased into the emergency lane. My phone vibrated in my pocket. When I snatched it out, I had a new text from Mia.
Where the hell r u? I’m at the docs, and u r not here like u promised. Appt is in 10 min!
“Shit, shit, motherfucking SHIT!” I yelled.
“What?” Rhys questioned he dug his wallet out of his pants.
“I just got a pre-rage text from Mia.”
“Uh-oh.”
We were interrupted by the cop knocking on the window. He appeared barely out of puberty. “License and registration please.”
Rhys quickly obliged by rolling down the window and thrusting out the two cards.
Before the cop glanced at them, he asked, “You do realize you were doing ninety-five miles an hour in a seventy zone?”
“Yes sir, and I do apologize for that. I normally obey the speeding laws, but you see, my friend has a very important appointment he needs to get to. Unfortunately, to appease him, I felt it necessary to break the law,” Rhys replied, oozing the charm and respectfulness he’d been raised with.
One glance at Rhys’s license, and the cop exclaimed, “Holy shit!”
“Excuse me officer?”
Leaning in the open window, the cop, whose badge read Carlisle, eyed Rhys. “Are you the Rhys McGowan, the guitarist for Runaway Train?”
Silently, I mouthed “FUCK YEAH!” and did a mental fist pump in my seat as I saw a glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel. I never shamelessly used my fame, but I sure as hell was going to do it today.
A million dollar grin spread across Rhys’s cheeks. “Why yes, I am.” Jerking his thumb at me, he replied, “And there’s AJ Resendiz.”
“Holy shit!” Officer Carlisle exclaimed again. His head shook back and forth so fast I thought he might lose his hat. “Dude, you guys are like my most favorite band in the world! I snuck in to Eastman’s once to see you guys play.”
“Really? That’s awesome. We always love meeting die-hard fans, so let me shake your hand.” Rhys stuck his hand through the window.
As Officer Carlisle pumped Rhys’s hand up and down, he exclaimed, “Oh man, no one at the station is going to believe this!”
“You mean we’re not on your dash cam?” I questioned.
He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got an older cruiser, and we’re still working on installing them throughout the department.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Maybe I can have you sign something?”