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“You should go back to the tour. Then, when you get home, maybe we can talk then.”
I turned away from her, my heart cracking because she was crying now, but she was also telling me to go. To leave her.
“Go back,” I repeated. “You want me to just walk away and leave you here?”
“Y-Yes.”
I wanted to put my fist through a wall. It didn’t matter that I would break my hand, that I wouldn’t be able to play the drums again. Nothing mattered right then. I didn’t do it for the simple fact that I didn’t want to scare her.
Clenching my hands tightly, my next inhale was rough and painful.
Turning back to face her, I crossed to the bed and leaned over her. Tears were running unchecked down her beautiful face as I pressed my forehead to hers.
“Okay,” I told her. “I’ll go. I’ll miss you like hell, but I’ll go.”
“Kale …” When she breathed my name, I would have given anything to have everything magically fixed. To have her tell me she loved me and trusted me. That I could stay and hold her for the rest of the night.
“I love you.” I kissed her forehead and straightened. “Remember that when you’re thinking about everything, doll.”
***
I didn’t wait around for Emmie to get me a chartered plane, or even arrange a ticket on a commercial flight for me. I just went straight to the airport and grabbed the first plane out. It didn’t matter where it was going, I just needed to get the fuck away from Los Angeles.
It took me to some small town in Oregon, and then I had to wait three hours for the next flight out to meet up with the guys on the road, but I didn’t care. It was like I had shut down. The pain of walking away from Santana when all I wanted to do was hold her and make her love me back was crippling, so I blocked it out and focused only on music.
Travis had a car waiting for me at the airport when I got to Louisville the next morning. The guys had arrived there the night before, but our first show wasn’t until that night. The others had to do an early morning radio show at five-thirty that morning, which had apparently gone well from the way Gray was all hyped up about the concert.
It was Thursday, which meant I had missed two shows.
Emmie had called in a favor and gotten the drummer from Trance to fill in for me. The guy had some wicked talent, but my bandmates were glad to have me back. It wasn’t the same whenever any of us wasn’t performing with the others. We had been doing this for years, so it threw us all off when any one of us wasn’t there.
We were a family in a weird sort of way. These four guys were like brothers to me. I might not like them at times, but I loved them.
I moved on auto pilot over the next few days. I played for the crowd, rocked the house with the guys, but as soon as the music stopped, I felt like a fucking zombie. I would just go back to the bus and crash. If Travis said we had parties we needed to go to, I told him to fuck off. I slept, ate, played the drums, showered. Repeat.
I couldn’t completely leave Santana alone, though. There wasn’t a power strong enough to keep me from breaking complete contact with her while I gave her the time she had asked for.
Every night, I sent her one text. Only one. I love you. That was all I told her, wanting to remind her every fucking day that it was the one thing in the world that would never change.
She never texted me back, and I didn’t really expect her to. Hoped, yeah, but never expected.
Another week passed, and we were only three days away from the end of this fucking tour. I was ready for it to be over, yet dreaded the end.
When I got home, would Santana be ready to talk? Would she want to still be with me?
Or would I go home to nothing?
TWENTY TWO
Santana
I had never been to a real concert before. I had an idea of how loud it would be, but not even my expectations could compete with how utterly deaf I felt. Yet, at the same time, I could hear every sound coming from the stage in front of me.
It was kind of exhilarating.
At least, it would have been if I hadn’t been so nervous I felt like I might vomit at any minute. Having already had all the vomit fun I ever wanted to experience the week before, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with my digestive system right then.
I had no one to blame for the butterflies in my stomach but myself, though.
