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“Hang on,” he murmurs, and I hear keys jingling in the background. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
Hail leaves no room for argument as the line clicks, and my head spins, my fever digging in with fiery rage.
Nine
Hail
Forthefirsttimesince I met Z, there’s a real prickle of worry that I might be in over my head with him. Red flags wave as I burst through his unlocked front door when he doesn’t answer my reckless banging.
I find his upper body laid out on his dining room table. Panic slingshots me toward him, and I don’t hesitate to put my hands on him. His forehead is coated in a sheen of sweat, and his eyes are sealed shut.
My first thought is to ask if he needs any of the medication he shoved away in the cabinet yesterday. Does he have a medical condition? Or did he really just catch a bug?
While I should be concerned about my health, only because everyone on the tour relies on each other to come to work ready to perform, I can’t help but drop down to my knees so I can get a better look at him.
“Z?” I push back locks of his damp hair and lay my palm against his sticky cheek. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”
His eyes remain closed. “If I move, I might vomit.”
“That’s okay. I’m here now. We’ll get you fixed up, I promise.”
Sadness rushes through me as I glimpse the past due notices beside his head. Is he having financial problems? With the way he writes lyrics, he shouldn’t have an issue licensing songs. Hell, I’m willing to pay any amount to get my hands on his work.
Regardless, I can’t sign off on him staying here alone in this condition. Like a nun on a holy mission, I ransack his bedroom for clean clothes. I find a backpack in his barren closet and shove clothes into it. I don’t bother with bathroom items. Those are replaceable. The hotel we’re staying at should have whatever he needs, and if not, I’ll find a store to run to. I neatly tuck his loose songs into a notebook and slip that inside the bag as well.
There’s no complaining from him as I overstep boundaries. No inclining that he’s going to lash out or bite me. He seems willing to accept my help, and I’m more than willing to give it.
Stasi used to tease me that I should have become a nurse. If I hadn’t found music and allowed it to possess me, I might have pursued a career in caring for others.
Moving to the kitchen, I search for a bottle of water or something for him to drink on the way back into town. He needs fluids. But when I crack open the fridge, I find it nearly empty.
“Geez, remind me to bring you some groceries next time.”
“I’m not a charity case,” he mutters weakly.
My brows furrow. “No, I know that. I didn’t mean it that way. Just figured maybe you were too busy to bother with shopping.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Sorry. Trying my best not to be me.”
Running a hand down my face, I motion to the cabinet with medicine. “Do you need anything from there?”
“No,” he forces the word out, closing his eyes. “Nothing helps.”
True fear grips my insides. Swallowing, I nod and move on. “Do you have family nearby? Anyone I can call?”
That probably should have been my first question before barging into his life again. Who am I to assume he even wants me taking care of him?
“No. There’s nobody.”
I’m not an angry person by nature, but I’m up in fucking arms, ready to launch into action. Against what enemy, I don’t know. I’m keyed up over the state Z has been left in.
When I was first introduced to Liam’s darkness, the pain he harbored, I realized just how monstrous blood relatives could be. Did someone hurt Z, too? Why is he alone?
Slipping the backpack over my shoulder, I return to his side. “I’m going to take you back to our hotel so we can keep an eye on that fever. Anything else you need?”
The fact that he hasn’t questioned me about packing up his shit means he’s got to be well out of it. How can I let him ride this out by himself, though? What if he needs to see a doctor? Needs antibiotics?
I know Liam and Sondra, our manager, would be furious if I camped out here until we’re due to hit the road again.
