My voice was desperate, my demeanor the same. “The one thing I’m asking of you. I need to see them once. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
I just needed to see them once.
Baz gripped me, his hug a stranglehold, his voice a harsh whisper in my ear. “Don’t, man. This is my fault. Everything. Dragging my whole crew down and into this bullshit lifestyle. You know it’s on me.” Pulling back, he studied my face. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Of course it wasn’t.
I’d taken the good I was given. Trampled it like it was nothing. Thrown it away in one reckless night.
But I was going to do one thing good.
I was going to let the good go.
“Yeah.”
Baz stepped back and gripped me by both shoulders. “Take whatever time they’ll give you. Then go…step up and take my place while I’m in here. Keep the band together. Make sure all this nonstop partying bullshit ends. Take care of the guys. Watch over my baby brother. Need you, man.”
I jerked through a nod. “Anything. It’s done.”
The door buzzed and I shuffled out into the emerging night.
Freedom.
But I’d never felt more chained.
I’d gone back to our tiny apartment, showered and changed, fighting the loneliness that moaned from within the walls, tentacles burrowing into my skin and hunting for a way to become one with me.
It would.
I knew it.
But I had one task left before I could let it.
I took a cab to the hospital and stepped onto the sidewalk. Night in full bloom, the sky seemed a tired, drooping canvas, grayed with the reflection of city lights. A thick fog stretched across the space and meshed with the clouds encroaching in the distance.
Tumultuous.
Fierce.
Energy held fast, something ominous and dense.
A dark warning I was getting ready to sell my soul.
Welcome to hell.
Sucking in a breath, I found my way inside, anxious as I jabbed at the elevator button. It lifted me to the seventh floor, and I ducked by the nurses, headed down the hall to the room number Doug had supplied.
Outside her room, I had to take a minute to convince myself what I was doing was right. When that didn’t work, I just fed myself a few lies, drew in a breath, and cracked open the door.
Kenzie was propped up in the hospital bed, gown slung down over one shoulder with our son flailing a bit where he was pressed to her breast.
Grief slammed me. Another stake to my blackened soul.
Forcing myself to step forward, I let the door click shut behind me.
Startled, Kenzie’s attention flew my way. Her face transformed into an expression of sheer relief. Her mouth parted, smile tilting at the corner. She heaved out a breath, wiped at her face, and I was just seeing then the tears that had been making a slow path down her face.
I wanted to drink her in. Memorize her sweet, soft face. Because I wouldn’t ever get to see her again.
“You’re here.”
“Yeah.”
I stood over them, and she looked down, away from me, tender as she touched his face. This tiny thing with swollen eyes and pouty lips, this little boy that tore everything I had left inside apart.
Shredded.
Soggy laughter tumbled from her, and she grinned between us, vacillating somewhere between awe and sorrow. “This is so much harder than they make it out to be…the breastfeeding thing…” She started to ramble. “I’ve been trying all afternoon, and he just keeps falling asleep…and I keep trying…and…”
Her voice broke on the last, and she heaved a sob.
Overridden by shame, I moved across the room and sat down on a chair, stared over at her.
“I’m so mad at you,” she finally whispered through her tears.
“I know.”
“Lyrik…you can’t—”
I cut her off by quickly standing again, because I couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take her pleading with me to be someone I obviously couldn’t be.
I inched back over to them, the back of my finger caressing Brendon’s cheek. “Can I?”
She frowned. “Of course you can…he’s your son.”
Only he wasn’t really. Not anymore.
Carefully, I lifted his tiny body that was wrapped in a blanket, a blue and pink cap on his head. The weight of him was next to nothing yet wholly profound.
I rested him on my shoulder, inhaling as deeply as I could when I breathed him in.
Memorizing everything I’d lost. Pouring anything I had left back into him.
Loved him with everything I had.
Silent promises began to rush out.
My heart. It belongs to you. Won’t ever give it to anyone again. You’re the last. I won’t ever fall in love again. Not after you.
My son.
He made this gurgling, sweet sound. With my hand, I guarded his head when I pulled him away so my eyes could trace his face. So I could commit it to memory.
His tiny mouth opened in an exaggerated yawn as he leaned back into my hold, tongue poking out, then he was trying to shove his fist in his mouth.
Warm laughter spilled from my chest.
“He’s perfect, Kenz.”
“Yeah.” A soft smile pulled at her tired face.