Page 157
I can’t bring her baby back.
But I can stay.
And I will.
For as long as it takes.
Chapter Thirty-Two
FLETCH
The air in the ranch house feels different.
Like grief soaked into the drywall and now we’re all breathing it in.
Reese is still in the hospital. The doctors say she’s stable, that she’s healing—but Thorin hasn’t left her side in three days. If he’s not sleeping in that awful vinyl hospital chair, he’s pacing the hall like a caged animal, snapping at anyone who comes within six feet of him. Even Carson.
Especially Alex.
We’re in the living room now, and it’s a powder keg waiting for a spark.
“You want me to what?” Thorin growls, dragging both hands through his hair. His eyes are bloodshot and raw, his shirt wrinkled from sleeping in it—if he slept at all. “Leave Reese and fly out with the band like it’s business as usual?”
Alex doesn’t flinch, which is impressive considering Thorin looks ready to launch across the kitchen island and rip his throat out. “We’ve already pushed the tour once. The first leg starts in less than two weeks. Madison Square Garden is sold out. You miss that show, and we’re on the hook for more than just PR fallout.”
“You think I give a fuck about PR?” Thorin slams his fist against the counter. The coffee mug beside him rattles but doesn’t shatter. A miracle. “You think I care about press releases and ticket sales while my wife’s recovering from nearly bleeding out in my arms?”
“She’s stable now,” Alex says carefully. “I’m not saying it’s fair. But the label’s not going to reschedule again. We miss this window, the rest of the tour’s done. Europe’s off the table. And you know what that means for the new album.”
Benji moves to stand between them. Carson hangs back with his arms crossed, jaw clenched. No one wants to say it, but we’re all thinking it.
This band is hanging by a thread.
“We can delay your departure a couple days,” Alex continues, softening. “Let the rest of the guys fly out ahead, get setup started. You join us before New York. But we have to move.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Thorin’s voice cracks. Just barely. But it’s there, and it shreds something in my chest.
“I’ll stay,” I say suddenly.
Everyone turns.
Thorin’s eyes snap to mine. “What?”
“I’ll stay here. With her. With Eli. Until you’re back. Maggie and Walker can only do so much, and she’s gonna need someone when she comes home. You said it yourself—Reese wouldn’t want Eli bouncing around while she’s recovering. I’ll hold it down.”
Thorin stares at me like he doesn’t trust himself to speak.
Benji nods slowly. “We’ll cover the shows until you’re ready.”
Carson finally speaks, voice low. “You need us to hold the line, we’ll do it.”
Alex exhales hard. “Fine. I’ll call the label, adjust the press schedule. But you join us in New York. No later than Madison Square Garden. Or it all burns.”
Thorin doesn’t answer right away.
But then he just nods once and walks out of the room.
Like he’s holding everything inside by a thread, and that thread’s fraying fast.
