chapter Fifteen
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We dodge curious passersby, whisking our impromptu meal away to the river park. Gazing out toward Brooklyn, we fill our bellies with bagels and cream cheese, coffee and cream. I’ve unmoored my entire existence to be here, and I’ve never felt so scared and so free. I suppose that’s what love feels like all the time—I’ve just never known it before now. I can’t tear my eyes away from Slade Hale, the wild, raging warrior of a man who’s come shredding into my life. No matter what happens to us, I’ll never be the same for having known him, and I’ll be better for it.
As the sun begins to fall once again, we make our way back to the hotel. The band mates are assembled, and no one seems surprised to see me. I accept gracious hugs from each of them, and I’m touched by their acceptance into the fold. Even Eddie seems genuinely happy to see me at Slade’s side, and I note with pleasure the absence of any groupies in our vicinity.
A limo whisks us to the next venue: Madison Square Garden. I step out after Slade, accepting his arm as he offers it. Annabelle’s dressed me in a stunning midnight blue dress—its classy and badass all at once. I note with a certain smugness that the flashbulbs don’t bother me when I’m focused on what’s really important, the crazy wonderful man at my side. I walk into the venue with my head held high and proudly take my place backstage, right where Slade can see me.
The band takes the stage to the surging roar of the crowd, and just like that the New York City concert is underway. Every so often during the set, Slade glances over at me. I can tell he’s taking strength from my presence, and that knowledge fills me with joy. Supporting him this way may not be my one and only calling, but damn does it feel wonderful to feel needed.
Flagrant Disregard rips through their set, charged and blazing. When the final note soars through the space, the entire place begins to roar. The very ground shakes with the force of the crowd’s adoration. The band members line up at the front of the stage and raise their arms, soaking in the energy of their fans. It’s a perfect moment, an amazing and beautiful instance of connection in a world where we so often find ourselves alone. I can see now that these shows are sacred; the bond between the band and the fans is one of love and adoration.
I was so fearful of this kind of passion before I met Slade. I didn’t understand how a song could inspire you to action, whether it be throwing yourself into a mosh pit or taking control of your life. Maybe those two things aren’t even so far apart. For the longest time, I was blind to this sort of power, and joy, and potential. My whole life, I’ve only been wading in the shallow end, going after the attainable, and the safe things in life. But this here is the deep end. This is where the bottomless possibility lies.
Slade walks my way, the audience is leaping cheering behind him. It’s all because of him that I finally have the courage to dive into the deep end. I was telling him the truth—he is worth it. But even more so, he’s made me realize that my happiness is worth the risk. Better to risk failure and pain and perhaps even heartbreak than to never truly live. Slade wraps his arm around my waist and leads me back outside to the tour bus. As I climb the steps, I even turn around and wave to the cheering fans. The bus starts up, and we’re off.
“That was amazing!” Dodge shouts, practically bouncing off the walls. “Madison Square Garden, you guys! I can’t even...Wow.”
“You said it,” Joe grins, amused by the guitarist’s puppy-like enthusiasm. “Where are we headed next, Eddie?”
“Baltimore!” the manager smiles, slapping his hands down on the kitchen table, “Crab cakes for all!”
“And you’re really going to come along, Julia?” Annabelle asks hopefully.
I trade glances with Slade. “I have two weeks,” I tell them, “Two weeks of vacation time, then back to the hospital. That is, if the paparazzi have left yet.”
“Only two weeks?” Dodge pouts, “But you’re our good luck charm! At least, you were tonight. Slade didn't even get stabbed!”
“Those skinheads might have a slightly different opinion,” I laugh, “Besides, my mom will be sick of feeding my cat in two weeks. It'll be back to civilian life for me.”
“But what about you and—OW!” Dodge yelps as Annabelle elbows him in the gut, cutting off his question about the fate of Slade and I as a couple.
“Don’t worry so much,” Slade says to Dodge, patting him on the back. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and pours a round of celebratory drinks. We each grab one and toast each other, smiling privately at our good fortune. The rest of the group falls into happy chatter, and Slade and I are able to slip away.
My rock star takes me by the hand and leads me back to the bedroom once more. We perch on the soft bedding and watch the highway fly past the window. I rest my head against his shoulder, and the strong smell of whiskey is as enticing as ever. I take a long sip, savoring the burn at the back of my throat. Slade lets out a laugh.
“Look at you,” he says, “Drinking whiskey like a pro.”
“I have a good mentor,” I say, licking a drop off my lip.
“You’re on the road to ruin,” he jokes, taking a slug himself.
“Maybe,” I say, “But I can deal with that.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he tells me, suddenly serious.
“Me too,” I tell him, “This is exactly where I need to be.”
“And when the tour is over?” he asks, “Do I just drop you back on your doorstep and take off into the sunset?”
“Maybe,” I say, “I don’t think there’s a rule book for this kind of thing.”
“No,” he says, “I suppose not.”
“Let’s enjoy our two weeks,” I say earnestly, “Live in the moment, right?”
“Right,” he says. He leans toward me and lays a sweet kiss on my lips. He tastes like whiskey, and I can’t help but grin a little. I press myself against his side, savoring the hard, strong feel of him. Every time our bodies collide, it feels a little like that first time in the hospital. But it also feels familiar, comfortable, like I’ve known that this is where I’ve always belonged, and am only now just remembering.
I watch the cars fly by on the highway as we leave New York behind. We’re onto another city, another new place. I smile, thinking how different things might have turned out if I took my two weeks off work just a little earlier. If I hadn’t been on duty the night Slade came in. Maybe I would have gone off on my own cross country trip alone, in my little beat up car, with country music playing and the wind whipping through my hair.
But even if I’d missed him that night in the hospital, I bet that wouldn’t have been the end. I’m sure that somewhere, out here on the road, we would have happened to cross paths at some rest stop or country diner. I know that we would have found each other one way or another. It feels too right between us for the universe to never bring us together. Slade and I were inevitable from the start. And what that means after the next two weeks have gone by, I can’t say for sure. But right now, it just feels right. Out on the road, miles away from anything I’ve ever known...I finally feel like I'm alive.
THE END