Punk Rock-A-Bye Baby(47)

Jessi pressed her lips together and nodded, but Angel didn’t know how much longer she’d be still before she exploded and demanded information on Tommy’s condition. Or maybe Angel was prophesizing his own boiling point and Jessi was the rock she had always been. He took a seat next to Jimmy and left Jessi to sit with her best friend.

Jimmy was quiet, but his foot bounced on his knee like a jackhammer. He wiped his face with his hand and looked up to the ceiling. “Man, I can’t believe this is happening. First the plane crash, and now brain surgery.” He paused and quietly stared at his sneaker. “I’ll never forget the first time I met Tommy. He walked into the studio, and all I saw was this long-haired rocker and thought he’d never fit in with Immortal Angel. Who knew he’d revolutionize punk rock by crossing genres?”

His statement triggered a memory that Angel kept close to his heart. It was the first time he laid eyes on Tommy Blade, guitar god. Not the first time he found the video of Tommy on line, when he was searching for a replacement lead guitar player, but the first time he saw Tommy in the flesh. With azure-colored eyes that lit up the room and flowing blond hair that cascaded down his back like spun silk, Tommy was white hot, and Angel fell fast and hard. When their shoulders had brushed together for the first time, and when their backs had pressed against one another when they played their first song together, it was like a bolt of fire had set Angel’s body ablaze. He had known right away that they were destined to be together. Tommy Blade had walked into his life and stole his heart on the very day they met.

He had lusted after Tommy for months, or was it just weeks that felt like an eternity because of the stumbling blocks that kept them apart? Tommy was so inside his head back then, bottled up with emotions and bogged down with stereotypes, living a half-truth and afraid to be himself. Tommy had changed in so many ways, but he still remained the man Angel fell in love with. His heart ached for Tommy and for the closeness of their bodies and the touch of his hand. He longed to feel the soft, silken texture of Tommy’s hair and the rough calluses on his fingertips from playing the guitar. Why was surgery taking so long? His stomach twisted with anxiety and his heart lurched with dread. The pounding beat in his chest compounded with the knot in his gut and left him physically ill and emotionally drained. His shoulders fell along with his last ounce of strength. Would he ever see the man he loved again?

When he looked up, Jessi stood in front of him. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide with certainty. “Something’s wrong with Tommy. Surgery should have been finished two hours ago. Come with me to the nurse’s station.”

Jessi always had a sixth sense when it came to Tommy. The affirmation in her voice made Angel’s heart race, and he jumped to his feet. His legs shook as they briskly walked to the nurse’s desk several yards away. Impending tragedy shrouded him every step of the way.

“What happened to Tommy?” he blurted out as soon as the nurse was within earshot.

She was started by his outburst. “Excuse me?”

“Something’s wrong with my husband. I can feel it,” Jessi stated, with more calmness than Angel could possibly maintain.

“I told you and your friend that a surgeon would be out to speak to you as soon as surgery was over.”

Friend, now Angel was a friend. “Someone needs to go into the O.R. and check on him! You can’t just leave us sitting here without knowing what’s going on!”

“Sir, calm down.”

Jessi squeezed his hand tighter and tried to reason with the nurse. “We just want reassurance. I’ve got a really bad feeling. Please. Can you send someone to check on him?”

The nurse assessed Jessi over her reading glasses, then threw them down onto the open chart on her desk. “I’ll be right back.”

When the nurse turned her back, Jessi wrapped her arms around Angel and fell into his chest. She rubbed her face into his shoulder and let out several deep breaths. She wasn’t crying, but her nerves where shot, and she was shaking.

So was Angel. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and held his breath. Horrific images of Tommy on the operating table, helpless and lifeless, were plastered across his mind. He knew Jessi was having the same thoughts by the way she clung to him and the terrified look in her eyes when she had first approached him.

“Mrs. Blade?”

They both jumped at the sound of the doctor’s voice. The surgeon stood before them, complete with surgical cap and disposable shoe covers. There was a dark red substance splattered across the top of his turquoise scrubs. It was blood. Tommy’s blood.