“As you heard,” Angel said, pointedly. “It sounded absolutely amazing.”
“Thanks.”
Angel and Jessi exchanged confused glances. Why was Tommy acting as if the song was less than stellar and not an immediate hit? “That song is sick. And it doesn’t even have any lyrics yet. It’s going to blow up the charts. You know that, Tommy.”
“No.” Tommy shook his head again. “I didn’t write it for ImmortalAngel. I wrote it for me.”
Angel placed his balled fist on his hip as steam began to heat up the back of his neck. “What do you plan on doing with this song?”
Tommy gave a casual shrug of his shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sell it.”
“Sell it? To who?” Frustration made Angel’s voice raise an octave, and the questions came out louder than expected.
“I don’t know.” Tommy smiled. “Do you want to buy it?”
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Angel exhaled loudly, relieved that Tommy was only teasing him. “I don’t care where your mind is at right now or where you think your future is headed. That’s an Immortal Angel song. It has our band’s sound. And yes, I saidourband.”
Tommy didn’t answer for a long time and his face grew pensive, clearly thinking about everything Angel just said. “I know. But I’m not ready to do anything with it yet. Let me just sit on it for a while.”
Lucas tugged on Tommy’s hand, bouncing with excitement and overflowing with enthusiasm. “I know what we could do with the song, Daddy. We could play it on stage at your next concert. Me, you, and Mason. And Papi could sing. When are we going on the tour bus again?”
Angel’s heart sank, and he could see pain wash over Tommy’s face. He didn’t dare look at Jessi because he couldn’t bear to witness her reaction. They hadn’t explained to the kids that Tommy left the band, and that they didn’t have any tours scheduled. Immortal Angel was a big part of the kids’ lives, especially Lucas’. The kids loved touring, being on the road with the entire Immortal Angel family, and the excitement of traveling together. The few times that Lucas was granted the privilege of attending one of the live shows meant more to him than anything. He even made an appearance on stage to play a song alongside Tommy more than once, and he’d talked about it nonstop for weeks.
Angel hadn’t realized how much Tommy’s decision would crush Lucas, and Angel wished he was anywhere else right now. He probably should help Tommy explain, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break that little boy’s heart. He expected Jessi to jump in, but she remained silent, and he still wouldn’t look at her. It was up to Tommy to deliver the devastating news to their son.
Tommy crouched down to Lucas’ level and smoothed down the blond curls at the back of the boy’s neck. “I don’t think we’re going to do that anymore,” he said, gently. “I want it to be like it is now. Instead of traveling all over the place all the time. I want it to be us. In one place. Here. At home.”
The smile on Lucas’s face vanished in an instant and the light in his bright blue eyes dimmed, then filled with tears.
Angel had to look away, otherwise the wetness in his own eyes would have streaked down his cheeks. He couldn’t take the sadness in that cherubic face, usually so alive and animated.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Jessi asked, rubbing Lucas’ back.
“No more touring? No more concerts?” a small, sad voice asked. “No more going on the bus with Mason and everybody?”
Tommy slipped his guitar off his shoulder and dropped his Les Paul on the carpet—something he’d never done in his life—and wrapped his arms around Lucas in a tight hug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Just not right now.”
“It’s OK, baby.” Jessi knelt and circled her arms around Lucas and Tommy. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. Don’t worry. It’s going to be OK.”
Angel couldn’t take it any longer and fell to the floor to hug his family. He could practically hear his heart cracking. He looked up to check on Tessa and found the resilient little girl unperturbed. She was now happily sitting on Mason’s knee and patting one of his drums with the palms of her hands. Angel’s gaze shifted to Mason, who wore a dismal frown. The kid had a perpetual million-dollar smile, the exact replica of Jimmy’s, so the image struck him almost as hard as Lucas’ sad face.
A thought hit Angel like a sledgehammer. Lucas and Mason were as close as brothers. If Immortal Angel started touring again without Tommy, something he still couldn’t fathom but was starting to think might be inevitable, it meant that the boys wouldn’t see each other for weeks or months at a time. It would kill Angel to see the boys torn apart like that. But that’s not what made a piece of his heart wither and die. If Immortal Angel went on tour without Tommy, it meant that Angel would be torn away from his family for long periods of time as well, and that was out of the question.
It didn’t matter how many times Tommy had seen Metallica perform; the excitement never diminished. If anything, it grew. Attending the show with the entire Immortal Angel family made it even better. There weren’t many things in the world that surpassed watching Metallica live and in person at the front of the stage, and after the crushing conversation with Lucas about not touring anymore, Tommy needed this mood booster. “I’m having the best time!” he exclaimed.
For the next two and a half hours, Tommy watched James Hetfield master heavy metal like no one else. The man was awe inspiring. A legend. His voice never lost an ounce of grit or power, and his skill on the guitar was phenomenal. Even after 40 years, he was still at the top of his game.
Kirk Hammett had Tommy salivating for the late Peter Green and Gary Moore’s 1959 Gibson Les Paul, better known as Greeny, that he played like a bitch. The instrument was a masterpiece, and the Metallica guitarist slayed with it. Lars Ulrich, with his showy drum patterns, and Robert Trujillo’s talented bass playing, were spectacular things to witness. All together, they proved why Metallica was the greatest band in the world.
By the end of the night, Tommy punched his fist in the air so hard and so often that his shoulder felt as if it were about to come loose from its socket, and he practically had whiplash from rocking his head. His heart sank when the band returned to the stage for the encore because he knew they couldn’t stay to the end. He knew the drill.
Since they were in the front row, they needed to leave before the masses exited and overran security. He wished he could stay and finish watching the last note of the encore, just like everyone else, but that wasn’t going to happen. “I guess we better make a break for it,” he told Angel.
Angel nodded at Tommy and then leaned toward Jimmy and said something into his ear. Jimmy, in turn, said something into Audra’s ear, and the message made its way down the line until everyone was informed about the exit strategy, including security.
They were led out of the arena in a single line surrounded by bodyguards, but Tommy doubted they needed it. People were here to see Metallica, not Immortal Angel. Even so, precaution was always necessary.
Tommy expected to be led to a back exit, but the bubble of security brought them to a room backstage. “What are we doing in here?” Tommy asked. “Is our car late? I told the driver to wait.”
