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“I don’t know if surprised is the right word. Happy. Grateful. I’ve been searching the papers every day, man. I didn’t want to read your obituary.”
Well, damn.
Jet opened his mouth to protest, to say that was ridiculous…but then he realized it wasn’t. It was fucking logical. And hadn’t his brothers said similar things to him over the years, and he’d just blown them off?
Shit, how many people had he forced to live in fear every time they went to sleep, just wondering if he’d be alive the next morning?
Time to get on those amends, dude.
He took a deep breath. “Rome, seriously. I’m sorry. That was fucked up. The Christmas Eve show is the least I can do. I just have one question, though.”
“Yeah?”
“How do the other guys feel about doing the show with me?”
Rome gave a bitter little chuckle. “Oh, right. You noticed how I left that part out, huh?”
“Yeah, it was glaring.”
“Look. They’re fine with it. They’re not great with it. But they’ll be cool, if you are.”
Jet nodded. “Right. I guess that’s about the best I could hope for.”
“And, hey. Maybe this will be a chance to get some closure. For all of us. Playing together one last time. Like a farewell show.”
“Yeah. I think that’s a good way of looking at it. A farewell show. And it’s being taped, right? I seem to remember something about that. Maybe we can sell digital downloads, or stream it, or something. With the proceeds going to The Angel Network.”
Rome drew his head back, and his jaw dropped a little. “Are you serious, man?”
“For sure. If the other guys agree.”
Rome grinned. “I mean, you wrote the songs. You’re the one giving up the most. If you’re down, I’m sure I can get them on board.”
“I’m down,” Jet confirmed. “It’s the least I can do
