CHAPTER TWO
TOMMY
ONE WEEK LATER
“Where are you?”My manager’s panicked voice freaks me out.
“Hey, Bernie. What’s going on?” I ask as my girlfriend’s roaming hands circle my shoulders from behind.
“Boo. Miss me?” Her giggle echoes in my ear as her mouth brushes my cheek.
Earlier, she dragged me around every fucking airport shop in the terminal, which eventually drove me crazy. Deciding the First-Class lounge was a much better option, I gave her free rein with my credit card. I didn’t give a shit how much she spent. I just wanted out of there. Now she’s back after squeezing my wallet dry and determined to mess with my concentration.
“One minute, babe,” I mouth and hold up a finger before turning in the opposite direction. I also grab my whiskey, draining it with one gulp before I speak to our manager again. I need the burn. “Sorry. Is everything okay?”
“Where are you?”
“Still waiting for our flight to LA, and I’m about to demolish my second double whiskey.” As the lounge is quiet, I requested the guy behind the bar keep them coming. He’s doing an excellent job so far.
“What does he want?” Chelsea jumps in front of me, mouthing her words while pointing at my phone. I can’t deal with her now and turn away. Placing a finger in my ear in an attempt to hear Bernie, I ask him, “Are you still there?”
His deep tone lowers further. “I’m here, but I’m afraid I have some terrible news.”
My blood runs cold and my head spins.
“If you’re near a seat, I suggest you take it, son.”
My choice is to continue pacing the floor and move as far away from Chelsea as I can. “What is it?”
His long, heavy sigh rings alarm bells. “Ash was involved in an accident early this morning.”
“What the fu—” My fingers comb nervously through my shaggy hair. “What happened?”
“Not sure. The police are here now and ready to escort us to the hospital, but they won’t say much.”
“They won’t tell you how he is?”
“They said the doctors will update us once we get there.”
“Fuck! Are you sure it’s Ash? Isn’t he already in LA?” We were all flying out at different points this week to record our new album and play a one-off gig.
“He changed his plans and was flying later. I’m sorry. It’s definitely him. That’s all I know.”
“Why won’t they tell us anything? I don’t like the sound of this.”
“Me neither.”
My head is now mush as dread fills my stomach. “I'm leaving the airport now, Bern. Which hospital do I go to?”
“Braebeach General.”
“What about the rest of the guys?” I ask, referring to my brothers in the band.
“Brett is already in LA, but Dani is trying to contact Max now—oh, wait a sec. Dani’s here and she needs to speak to me.”
Bernie and his daughter, Dani, exchange information with muffled voices, then he’s back on the line. “Dani says a car is coming for you. Once word gets out about the accident, the whole town will be bedlam, so security is key. We can’t have you roaming the airport looking for a taxi.”
“Okay.”
