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“Dave says we can clear out, grab the brat and Jesse!” he hollered.
“Heard that asshole!” Kye shouted back, and Zyaire and I laughed. Jesse pelted past at full speed, practically knocking Johnno off his feet as he ran down the steps of the coach.
“Nana! Grandpa!” Jesse yelled, launching at Jed. Jed caught my son laughing. He was nearly as tall as Jed now, and I realised Jesse would get his father’s height. Thankfully, Jesse had the baseball cap he always wore in public pulled down low. Even if we’d banned the media from publishing his image, we couldn’t stop fans from taking pictures. So Jesse was careful to wear a hat that hid his features.
As I clambered down the steps after Jesse, I spied Nana standing in front of me, grinning. She appeared older but could pass for fifty. Instead, Nana was sixty-five and carried it well. Jed had a year on Nana. For some reason, I’d never called Jed Grandpa, and Jed liked it that way. Although Jed insisted, Jesse called him Grandpa. Nana wrapped me in her arms and hugged me tightly. We were covered by the coach, but when we stepped away from the coverage, the fans would go nuts.
Truthfully, I loved our fans, the genuine fans, not the fanatics, nor did I like the stalkers. The Wild Wind had journeyed a long distance since our debut as teenagers when we didn’t understand who to trust or how to behave. A year after our initial record, we were well and truly jaded and watched each other’s backs. Not that Ken mismanaged us. Instead, he mothered The Wild Wind in his brusque way. But there was always someone trying to earn a quick buck off the band. Or a journalist ready to distort our conversations.
At first, we’d jumped to one another’s defence, which made us appear even more guilty. Now we’d learned to ignore it unless it was a big story, and then we took to TV to explain the misconceptions away. Much easier than giving another reporter further words to twist. They cooked up enough nonsense, as it was.
Jesse snuggled into Nana’s arms. Nana had a calm manner about her. I’d only ever seen her angry once, and that memory was seared into my brain for life. Jed repeated Nana’s actions before stepping back and studying me.
“You look tired, my girl,” Jed commented.
“It’s been a long few days, and pencil dick isn’t making stuff happier or easier for us,” I replied.
“That weasel ain’t staying at my motel,” Nana grumbled as she dropped a kiss on Jesse’s forehead. I snickered as Jesse had to dip for Nana to reach.
“Peter’s been informed, but Ken’s arriving soon and will need a space,” Zyaire said, stepping out of the coach. The other band members followed and were swiftly swept up in hugs.
“Let’s get out of sight before another surge happens,” Kye quipped. Nana nodded.
“I don’t know how they found out you were staying here. Chey, you’ve not returned home for years,” Nana replied, but there was no rancour in her tone. She knew full well why I’d never set foot back here.
“Our house should be ready soon, Nana, and we’re sorry about this. Have we chased other guests away?” Saint asked, wrapping a muscular arm around Nana. We took our usual places, hiding Jesse from any camera’s and hurried towards the reception, which led to a small, attached apartment at the rear.
“No, we blacked out the booking system for this week, anyway. Once we knew the house wouldn’t be ready, we shut for the other two weeks,” Jed said as we entered the reception. He carefully locked the door behind us and closed the blinds. We relaxed as soon as we were away from media and fan attention.
“We’ll pay you to cover that,” Bridge offered, frowning, and didn’t duck in time to miss the slap Nana aimed at his head.
“Bridge, we make good money. The fact our girl was raised here brings in lookie-loos. We can afford to shut for three weeks. We don’t want anyone breaking your privacy or risking Jesse,” Nana smiled as we walked into the living room. Kye dropped into an armchair, and I glanced at him. He’d an appointment later this week, Ken had arranged it, with a doctor at the hospital. Understanding who Kye was, the specialist had agreed to a late hour meeting.
“Are you okay, honey?” Nana asked, concern in her eyes. Kye nodded wearily.
“Long day, Nana, and it’s yet to finish,” Kye replied. Nana bustled out, and I guessed she was going to switch on the kettle. Nana always did tea or coffee, biscuits and sandwiches. Never let it be said that Nana allowed anyone to go hungry. Johnno got into an argument with Jed about baseball, and I rolled my eyes. I might be home, but nothing ever changed.
???
Hyped to the gills, I watched as the band bounced on their toes, ready to perform our last concert for a year. We were playing at the Matthews Opera house and had sold out. The warmup group jogged past us and offered a thumbs-up, and, one by one, we filtered out. The crowd went wild, and I felt the excitement thrum through my veins. This is what made it worth it. I stared out at the seating as Zyaire hit a beat on the drums, and I broke into the opening lines of Crazy Girl. Usually, Kye sang the male vocals, but Saint was taking his role with him so ill.
I grinned as the crowd belted back the lyrics and saluted them, driving them into a further frenzy at being acknowledged. Saint held the last note, and screams erupted. We moved smoothly from song to song, interacting with the fans and giving the performance of a lifetime. Just before the final three songs played, I grabbed the microphone.
“We’ve a surprise for you, and I want to hear you scream!” I yelled, and the masses responded. From backstage, Kye let out the song’s first line that busted us into the charts and into stardom.
“I closed my eyes and thought of you,” Kye sang.
“When I reached out, there was nothing but coldness and despair,” I sang the next, and the fans screamed as Kye wandered out. He stayed at one side of the stage as I strolled to the opposite, and across the space, we belted out the heart-breaking lyrics of What We Could Have Been. The masses grew silent as emotion poured out of us. They sensed this was a magical performance as grief and hope lashed at them from Kye and me. Kye and I met in the middle for the ending lines and crooned them together.
“We nearly had everything, except love. We should have had everything except you were blind. You lost everything because you valued nothing. We nearly had everything, except I was nothing and nothing always fades.” The crowd held their breath for long moments and went crazy. Kye and I turned our faces to them, and I spied a dim light on a balcony. It had been dark all night, and the face’s blurred, but my gaze caught on Chance, sitting there staring at me.
Anger flooded through me. How dare they attend our goodbye concert? What shit was this? Beside him, I saw Bear, Shee and several of the other brothers. The one person I didn’t want to see stared at me with burning eyes. Celt. Kye followed my gaze and mumbled under his breath. I broke eye contact and walked across to the others. Kye accompanied me. I didn’t care why Hellfire was here, but I had a message for them, and our following three songs would show it.
“Change of plans. I want Left Alone, See me Now, and we’ll do an encore of What You Missed,” I said, moving my mic away from my mouth.
“Chey?” Bridge inquired, surprised at the development.
“Top right balcony,” Kye muttered, and their glances moved in that direction.
