Wicked Beat (Sinners on Tour #4)(134)

"You don't have to be in the band to hang out with me."

Jon rubbed his forehead and stared across the immaculately tended front yard. "Don't enable me again, Eric. It honestly doesn't help."

"I don't want you anywhere near me if you're using, but … "

Jon glanced at him.

"But if you get your shit together, maybe we could put a little band together. Play gigs at local bars. I've been working on some alternative rock songs. You never were heavy enough for Sinners."

Jon smiled. "That would be awesome."

"But I get to sing."

"And drum?"

"Nope, just sing. I'll need you to find a good drummer. A couple of guitarists. I won't have time. I'm fuckin' busy, you know?"

Jon's eyes sparkled with hope. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun. We'll jam. Just when I'm off tour with Sinners, of course, and only if you keep your nose clean. I'm not putting up with your bullshit anymore, Jon."

Jon punched him in the arm. "I don't expect you to."

Eric nodded. "Do you want to come inside?"

Jon shook his head. "Nah. I've taken enough of your time. You'll probably get a long, boring letter from me in a couple days. Another part of my therapy. You don't have to read it, if you don't want to."

Eric laughed. "That's why you're really here, huh? To keep me from reading that letter."

"No," Jon said sheepishly. "I'm not like that anymore."

"Whatever, dude," Eric said, laughing. "I don't expect you to change overnight." 

Jon climbed to his feet. "I'll give you a call once I'm sure this therapy is going to stick. I really want to succeed this time. I'm finished with that shit."

"You better. I have some songs written that are amazing, but not Sinners' style. I'd love to get them in front of an audience. I'm counting on you to make that happen."

Jon rolled his eyes. "You don't need me, Eric. You could put your own band together in ten seconds. Any musician in his right mind would give his left nut to perform with you."

"But I'm counting on you." Eric shoved Jon toward the porch steps. "Get now. I need to chase off the rest of my guests so I can have time alone with my woman."

"She's good for you."

Eric smiled. "You don't have to state the obvious."

Jon trotted down the steps and then turned to look at him. "Thanks." He didn't need to say more. Eric understood. "Happy birthday."

When Eric let himself back in the house, Rebekah was waiting in the foyer. "How did it go?"

Eric nodded. "I think he's actually going to get his life back together."

She reached up and cupped his face. "And I suppose you're going to help him with that."

"Nope. Just gave him a little incentive. My part in his recovery is entirely hands-off."

"Good," she said, "because I think it's about time you put your hands on me."

"I think it's past time for that."





Chapter 34


Rebekah didn't know what was worse, the actual MRI or waiting for the results. She and Eric played a word game against each other on their phones while she waited to be called to see her doctor. She was glad Eric was there to help her pass the time. Her stomach was in knots.

When they called her in, she left Eric in the waiting room. If it was bad news, she didn't want him to see her fall apart. She'd have a few minutes to pull herself together before she had to tell him.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" he asked, clinging to her fingers with one hand.

"I'll only be a minute." She kissed his cheek and followed the nurse to Dr. Palmer's office.

The moment she entered the room, she knew it would not be good news. Dr. Palmer had two expressions. I'm on top of the world. You're going to die. He was wearing his solemn look at the moment.

"Have a seat, Miss Blake."

She sat, or more collapsed. Her legs were like wet noodles.

"Your blood work looks great. CEA levels normal," he said, but he didn't offer a smile of encouragement. "The MRI … "

Oh God, please don't say it. Please.

"There is a suspicious spot in your pelvic cavity."

Fuck. He said it.

"I want to do an immediate biopsy to take a look. It might be an artifact or excess scar tissue or-it might be a relapse of cancer."

Unable to speak, she lowered her eyes and nodded slightly.

"They're prepping a room for you upstairs. If it is cancer, the faster we get you on chemo, the better our chances of beating it again."