Kristy glances over, picking up on my energy immediately. Her brows pull together, and she tilts her head. “Okay, spill. What’s going on?”
They always know.
She and Alana have a sixth sense when something’s not right with me.
“I just found something out,” I murmur. “And I don’t know how to process it.”
She puts her phone down and gives me her full attention. “Let me guess… Mercs?”
I nod and exhale. “I added his sister on Facebook, and let’s just say, I discovered something I wasn’t expecting.”
Kristy lets out a slow breath. “Are you gonna keep being cryptic, or?”
“I don’t know if it’s my story to tell.”
Her hand comes to rest on my knee, warm and steady. “No pressure. You know me, I won’t push. Just know, I’m here when you’re ready. But bottling it up? Not your strong suit.”
“Kiera has cancer.” Goddammit, the words rush out faster than I mean them to. I can’t help it, I needed to say it.
Kristy blinks, then smiles softly. “Well, that was easier than I thought.”
I groan and lean back into the couch. “Ugh. How do you always do that?”
She shrugs. “It’s a gift. But seriously, Effa, I’m really sorry. That’s heavy. No wonder you’re all twisted up. Is she going to be okay?”
“Mercs said there’s a stem cell procedure. But they’re waiting for the right timing. I didn’t want to push for more.”
Kristy nods, considering my words. “Just be there for him. And when you meet Kiera, be real. I’ve heard it’s better to acknowledge cancer than ignore it. The last thing she needs is people walking on eggshells around her.”
I give her a weak smile. “When did you get all insightful?”
“What do you mean?‘I am, after all, me,’” she says, quotingWorking Girlwith a cheeky grin.
I roll my eyes and nudge her. “I should go find Mercs. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Hug him from me. Wait, no, don’t. I’m not supposed to know. But give him some extra love anyway.”
“Thanks, Kristy. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Standing, I head for the door, heart still heavy, but with purpose in my steps.
I need to find Mercs.
I just hope he’s not carrying all of this alone.
Chapter Eighteen
MERCS
In the rafters above the stage, it feels like you’re looking down on the world from the heavens—detached, weightless, removed from the chaos below. Up here, above the lighting and rigging, everything is quiet. Especially before a show, when the stage is bare, and the crew’s still arriving. It’s peaceful in a way most people wouldn’t understand.
This place has become a refuge.
Telling Effa about Kiera was fucking hard. Breaking down in front of her… that part? Even harder. It makes me feel less of a man. I didn’t want her to see me like that. Didn’t want the others to find out and start looking at me with those eyes—pitying, knowing, waiting for me to fall apart.
Fuck.
