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Prologue
Kristopher
Sweat pours down my face and stings my eyes as the band behind me fades, and I belt out the final chorus of my set. Cheers, screaming women.
This is the dream.
If someone had told me two years ago that a twenty—four—year—old college dropout like me would be performing on the same stage as greats like Clint Black, Martina McBride, and Rascal Flatts, I’d have told them to smoke another one.
Yet, here I am, taking a bow in front of nearly seventy thousand people. My second album, Lightning in a Bottle, has gone platinum, and the title song was nominated for Single of the Year. I didn’t win, but damn just being nominated with the likes of Blake Shelton makes this trip real and feels damn good. I’m playing just thirty minutes outside my hometown, so having my family here makes it even sweeter.
Coming off the stage, I’m bombarded by little arms wrapped around my hips. My hand pats the dark waves of my baby sister Claudette’s ribbon—adorned head as I laugh, looking at my parents.
“That was so good, jerkface.” She squeals. “I met Chris Young. He kissed my cheek!”
“Is that so?”
Mom palms my cheek. “You did good, baby. I knew they’d love you like I do.”
“It was for you. Happy Birthday, momma.” I hug her too.
“Go clean up. We’ll meet you out back. Hurry up. I’m starving.” Dad pats my shoulder.
I nod, kissing my momma again before making my way backstage. I’m still breathing heavily. My heart is racing so damn fast. This has got to be the best night of my life. Getting to my dressing room—I have a dressing room!
I pull it together, and in less than fifteen, I’ve smuggled myself out the rear and am jumping into the back of my parents ‘90 Crown Vic station wagon. You know the type, the one with the wood paneling? Dad loves this thing even if the rear seatbelts aren’t what they should be. He just goes on that it’s a classic. Looking around as we pull off, I don’t see Claudette. I know she’s under the blanket in the back, but you know the game.
“Claudette? Has anyone seen you? Oh no! We left her!” I say, mocking fear until she jumps up, grabbing my neck.
“Rawer! I got ya!” She giggles, climbing over the seat and onto me.
“Yup, you got me good.” I hug her, she’s ten this year, and I can’t believe it. It was like yesterday when dad came home and told me I had a baby sister. I was so excited to be a big brother. She’s my favorite person. I watch her as she settles next to me, shoving her hand into her my little pony pocketbook.
“I got you somethin’, even though you’re a jerkface.” She pulls out a little cardboard card. Attached to it are two leather chord bracelets, one yellow, the other blue with a little silver trinket. The card says, Brother & Sister. Then I see the silver trinket carved to be a compass. It continues to read, Our paths may change as life goes on, but our bond will always be strong. I smile as she snatches it back.
“One for you and one for me. I want the yellow one. The lady in the store said they’re wishes. You make a wish, and when it falls off, it will come true.” Her’s is too big. She has to knot it and wrap it almost triple. I smile as she grabs my hand and puts mine on me. “There now, wherever you are, I am too.” She smiles.
I really love how her little brain works.
We wind up at a Bar—B—Que joint downtown. It’s actually where I got my start, so it’s like coming full circle. Dinner is all laughs and talks about my upcoming tour. I’m traveling all over the US and parts of England and Wales. I’m stoked.
Dad looks at his watch and Claudette. She’s starting to wind down. “Well, son. Think it’s time we get rolling along. Besides, don’t you have a few after-parties to make appearances at?”
“I could stick around a little more.” I look at my momma.
“Oh, nonsense, this has been a wonderful birthday and an exceptional weekend, but I’m ready for my own bed. Besides, my little pixie is tired.” She palms Claudette’s face as she leans into her with a yawn. “You go on, have some fun. Celebrate with your fans.”
I take care of the check and call for the car service to get me. As the Lincoln pulls up, I hug my family. “I’ll see you soon.”
***
My head pounds as the sun filtering in through the curtains wakes me. My arms are dead from the weight on them. Looking left, I see blonde hair leading to big fake tits with cinnamon nipples. Audry… I think. That means Staci with an I is on my right. Turning my head, sure enough, there’s her crimped red hair all over the pillow. I go to move when I feel warm wetness on my cock. My eyes drift south as the sheet appears to breathe. I groan, peeking under to see the top of an unidentified head bobbing and slobbering on my cock. Okay, this is happening. May as well enjoy it. Starting to get my arms free, I wake Staci.
“Hmm, I’m horny.” She grumbles. The next thing I know, she’s smothering me with her thighs on either side of my head as she rides my face. A knock on my door ends the debauchery. They moan and groan as I go to answer it.
“Yeah?” I open the door and am looking at Cliff Richards, my manager, and friend since the second grade. He looks like a ghost. “What’s up?”
“You—you haven’t checked your messages?” He stammers.
“Been—occupied,” I try to hide the spectacle moaning away behind me.
“I—there’s been an accident. It’s all over the news. The—the hospital called me when they couldn’t reach you.”
“Get out!” I holler spooking the ménage. “I said get out!” A growl slips out of me as my heart drops into my stomach. The girls snatch up their clothes and quickly abandon the room as I head for my phone, turning on the television.
“Channel seventeen,” Cliff says softly.
I flick the channel, and my eyes widen as I see the scene unravel before me. Smoke, a highway back up. A tractor-trailer being lifted from an overpass. My phone slips to the ground as the message conveys that I need to contact the hospital. In pieces across the pavement is a white station wagon with wood panels…
