A Bleu Streak Christmas (12 page)

“It’s about time,” Max says, offering
his twin a huge hug. “Dude is lyrical, but has been too stingy to share his
gift.”

“Not stingy, but shy.” Mave mumbles
out.

The hugging continues until all the
band has had their special moment.

Dillon wipes his eyes. “Stellar gift,
Mave. No doubt, this is going to be our best album.”

The day lazes along with me coloring
with Grace, the guys serenading us with Christmas songs, and us eating off and
on. I took a timeout to call Momma earlier. It’s only our second Christmas
without Daddy, so I was worried about her spending it alone. Come to find out,
my worrying was unnecessary, for which I’m glad. She genuinely sounded good. I
was also surprised to find out that Mave called and asked her to check on his
mom and grandpa. Of course, she went further than that, making Christmas
treats. She was tickled to report spending the entire day at the Judith’s home.
Chills ran through me at how our families have mingled simultaneously. I told
him about it, and he seemed genuinely happy about it, too.

As I lay in bed, all I can do is thank
God in repetitions for blessing me with all of this unexpected life. After
losing Daddy so sudden, I allowed fear to hold me prisoner—scared to move
forward with the unknown. I thank Him for blessing me by placing Jewels and her
family in my life as well, and for the fact she didn’t give up on me. Because
I’m realizing how much that
no
would
have hindered me from experiencing.

Chapter
Thirteen

M
ave

Doll
baby is all kinds of giddy today. Since Christmas, she seems to have finally
allowed those beautiful wings to spread. I’ve hardly seen a blush in days,
except for when I kiss her—and that’s all kinds of good.

Ever since we’ve pulled into New
Jersey, she keeps whispering to me that she has a surprise for everyone. I
guess she used her eight hours on the bus wisely. The rest of us, not so much.
Blake got a new haircut against his will. Tate received a hot pink manicure
while he napped. Trace sort of got locked in the bathroom for an hour until Jen
threatened to end our lives if we didn’t let him out. Pregnant woman can’t hold
her water—whatever.

With no clue as to where we’re going,
Izzy has us all crammed in two SUV’s and has given our drivers instructions to
our destination. Little Grace is all about it. She’s sitting between me and
Izzy—more like, bouncing between us.

“Please, please, please tell me. I
can’t take it!” Grace whines, slapping me in the process for the hundredth
time.

“Yes. Please tell her. I don’t know how
much more of this
I
can take,” I
grouch, rubbing my cheek.

“The wait is over. We’re here.” Izzy
giggles this out while pointing to the sign of the arena that just came into
view.

“Ice skating?”

“Yay!” Grace shouts out, making my ears
ring. I throw my hands up, shielding her wild limbs from colliding with my
face. Little chick is losing it.

We climb out and meet the rest of the
crowd at the entrance. I already know what’s coming.

“This might not be the best idea,”
Jewels says hesitantly.

Izzy deflates at her comment.

“Sweetheart, I need my drummer to have
two working arms. We can’t afford having him breaking another bone. Eventually
they are going to get tired of mending back together.” Dillon actually sounds
worried. He’s clearly not joking.

“Another bone? Just how many bones have
you broken?” Izzy whispers over to me.

“How many do I have?” I shrug.
Seriously, I’ve lost count of how many breaks I’ve endured.

“The rest of us can skate. Mave can sit
out with Jen,” Trace says.

“Forget that. I’ve never tried this. I’m curious
—
”
                                                              

“Oh no. Dude, you know all about
curiosity killing the cat,” Max pipes in.

“Whatever. I’ve not been in a cast in
what… eight months? All’s good, Izzy. This is a great surprise. Thanks for
planning it.” I lay a kiss on her lips before heading in.

In no time, we are all donned in ice
skates and hitting it. Blake busts it right off the bat. Trace just keeps doing
this stiff shuffle, looking like he’s about to mess his pants. I watch all them
take a stab at it, before taking to the ice.

Dillon says I don’t have a healthy
enough dose of fear is why things tend to happen to me. Maybe he’s right, but I
just don’t want to miss out. I’ll be darned if I’m gonna let some slick ice and
sharp skates own me today. It will be the other way around.

Pushing off from the edge, I surprise
the whole bunch of us, when I totally rock it. My skates glide over the ice
like a champ. Seriously, I’m lapping them and even pull off skating backwards.
All those younger years with only a skateboard as a mode of transportation have
probably helped with this whole balancing thing. I’m rocking it.

“How ya like me now, suckers!” I holler
over to Max and Trace, who are trying to peel their bodies off the ice.

Racing around the rink with Will and
Logan—who are both showing the ice who’s boss as well—I work up a mean sweat.
This skating kicks butt. As the time races by, the tension releases from my
shoulders and the endorphins flow through me.

I swipe Izzy from Jewels and Grace, and
we glide around, weaving in and out of other skaters with ease. Chick can
skate, too.

“Very cool idea, doll.” I squeeze her
hand.

“Thank you. Seems you’ve had the
largest time.”

“Oh, I have. I’ve outskated every one
of them punks.” We both laugh as we pass Tate, who’s laid out on the ice again.

We skate along with me humming “Brown
Eyed Girl.” Izzy hasn’t stopped smiling. The day has been perfection. Content
with the world, my eyes keep sweeping over to my ice-skating companion. The thought
flickers through my mind to reach down and kiss her, but scatters away with a
body slamming into my back. Limbs tangle with mine and send me and some kid
colliding with the ice.

Searing pain races up my leg until it
burns the back of my throat.

“Mave!” Izzy shouts. Glad I had enough
sense to release her hand or she would have fallen, too.

“You all right, kid?” I ask the teenage
boy.

“Yes. I’m so sorry. My buddy said it
was you and I was trying to get close enough. And it is you. You’re Mave King.
And I couldn’t stop…” The star-struck kid takes in the crowd surrounding him
and gasps. “Holy crap! It’s all of you. You’re Bleu Streak!” Dude’s eyes are
bugging out.

Dillon and Logan yank me and the kid up
and help us off the ice.

“Can I get your autographs?”

“Sure, man,” Dillon answers. Blake
automatically produces paper and pens. Dillon signs, and then passes it to the
rest of us. It’s all I can do to scribble out my name from drowning in pain.
Ben catches me with a look and I shake my head. He reads me and knows he needs
to move the kid and his friends along.

“Say, how would you guys like free tickets
to the concert tonight?” he asks them. They go crazy and give Ben their numbers
and then the bodyguards effectively move them on.

Everyone seems over skating, so we move
to the benches and start shucking off the skates. I get my right one off,
stalling on the left.

“How much for these skates, my man?” I
ask the guy helping us. He’s been our personal host the entire outing.

“They run about eighty bucks.”

I fish out a hundred dollar bill from
my wallet and hand it over to him.

“What? You so great at it, you think
you need to keep the skates?” Max mocks.

Gingerly unlacing the skate, I mutter,
“No. I ruined them.” Taking a deep breath, I pull it off and discover it
dripping red. After tossing it in the trash can beside the bench, I look up and
catch all kinds of confused eyes watching me.

“Dude’s skate cut me.” Lifting the leg
of my jeans reveals what I already felt was there—a deep, nasty gash oozing a
substantial amount of blood. “I need to head to the emergency room, so I can
get this stitched up before the show.” My jaw is clenched in pain, causing it
to be difficult to get my words out.

“I told you,” Dillon bellows out.

“Chill out.” I wave my arms around.
“Both still work.”

Without any more commentary, Dillon
picks me up like I’m a flipping baby and rushes me to the SUV. Him, Izzy, and
Max pile in with me. I guess it takes three to hold my hand.

Izzy is on repeat all the way to the
hospital. “I’m so sorry… This is my fault… I’m so sorry…”

The hospital deems us special, I
suppose, because they allow all three of them back in the exam room with me.
The pain is pulsing up my leg, locking my jaw. Silent, I stare up at the
ceiling and ignore everyone and everything. Shutting down is how I’ve learned
to deal with pain.

Not surprising, the first thing they
offer is a shot for pain. Dillon and Max are quick to tell them no for me.

“But he’s in a lot of pain.” The young
nurse looks worried for me. I try to offer her a smile, but it feels more like
a grimace.

“He’s tough, darlin’. No worries,”
Dillon answers for me again. We’ve done this song and dance enough over the
years.

All Izzy can do is hold tight to my
hand silently. She looks so defeated and I just can’t offer her anything right
now, which sucks. I’m focusing on not moaning like a baby.

Little time passes before I’m whisked
out for an x-ray which reveals a chipped shinbone. The doctor informs us of
this as he stitches me up.

“I told you so,” Dillon mutters.

“Be mad at me. It’s my fault.” Izzy is
crying now.

I glare over at Dillon to make her
better.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart. Just worried
for Mave. Guy has had a hard go of it. I hate it when he suffers.”

There’s no doubt that my man would take
on every ounce of my pain if he could.

The irritating tugging finally stops,
and the doctor sits back from my leg. “Twelve stitches. The chip is what it is.
I can’t cast it with the cut. Keep it iced and elevated. It’s going to hurt
like nobody’s business. I can give you a shot for pain to help you get through
the concert and then a prescription.”

“No thanks,” I grunt out as I ease to
the edge of the table.

“But Mr. King—”

“Look, I’m on this side of a drug
overdose. Not many get to keep breathing to tell the tale. I am, so I can’t.” I
swallow down the pain and continue, “I’m not a pansy. I’ll deal.”

The doctor looks sympathetic. I pat him
on the shoulder before slowly standing. “Thanks, man.”

“If you reconsider—”

“I won’t.” The first step punches me in
the gut. It hurts so bad, it sears all the way to the tips of my fingers.

“How about some crutches?”

“Nah, man. I’m good.” Taking several
deep breaths to steady myself, I limp towards the door. I think everyone
follows me out. Not sure. I’m too caught up in pushing against the pain and my
demons to notice one way or the other.

•♫•♫•♫•

Tonight was not my best night.
Thankfully, Dillon had my back and nixed mine and Will’s drum duet. There’s no
way I could have concentrated enough to keep up with the kid, much less catch
flying sticks on cue.

I pull on a pair of boxers, being
mindful not to hit the angry area on my leg. The shower did no good, so now I’m
praying sleep will be kind, but I have my doubts. My dumb leg is thumping in agony
more intense than I could ever beckon from my bass drum. It’s close to
overbearing to put any weight on that leg. Stupid injury.

A knock sounds at the door, so I hobble
over and find Izzy on the other side with a big bag and laptop.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Watch a movie with me.” She doesn’t
wait for my reply. Instead, she steps around me and lets herself in.

I keep standing by the door, trying to
figure out a way to kick her out.

Chapter
Fourteen

I
zzy

Never
have I felt so bad about something in all my life. The concert was painful to
witness tonight. Mave’s eyes held a storm of pain while he took it out on his
drums. I’m not sure the gum did any good. I watched helplessly as his jaw
flexed throughout the entire performance. He also didn’t lend his vocals to any
of the songs. It’s impossible to imagine how severe it would be to have a
broken bone and stitches with no pain meds to dull it.

“I won’t be good company,” he mutters,
still standing by the open door.

My focus is setting up the laptop and
not letting him push me away. “That’s what everyone keeps warning me about.
Dillon says it’s best to leave you alone when you’re like this, but I want your
company, so tough.”

“I’m a walking catastrophe. It’s best
you keep your distance.”

“You’re not the most accident-prone
person I’ve ever met, so stop trying to make yourself so special,” I tease, but
see his jaw start working in all seriousness.

“I’ve overdosed on drugs. You heard me
in the ER.” He slams the door and limps over to me, holding his arm out. “You
see this eagle? It’s to remind me never to stick a needle in my arm ever again,
and the only high I ever need to soar on is God’s grace. It’s something I will
have to fight the rest of my life.”

“But you said you’re not defined by
your past.”

“I’m not, but I still have to live with
the consequences of it. I can’t go back and you don’t deserve to be caught up
while I’m dealing with it.” He rubs his hands through his hair, sending it
standing on end—even it looks frustrated.

“You done?”

“Done with what?” he growls.

“Self-loathing, because I’m really
ready to watch this movie. Before we can do that, I need to help you get your
leg propped up and iced.” I point at his leg. “You also need to take some
Ibuprofen to help with the swelling.”

He gives me no more lip. Instead, he throws
on a T-shirt and eases onto the bed, grumbling under his breath. A grouchy Mave
is definitely interesting. It’s sort of cute, but I won’t be sharing that with
him. After setting several pillows under his swollen leg, I gently place an
icepack on top of his angry shin.

“Here,” I say, handing over two pills
with a small bottle of water. Once he’s downed them, I tap the eagle inked in
the crook of his arm. “Isaiah 40:31 is one of my favorite Bible verses and I
think this is my favorite tattoo.” I smile, but he doesn’t return it.

“I’m not in the mood for some dumb
romantic comedy or chick flick,” he grumbles.

“Good. Neither am I. I’ve got us the
new crime thriller.”

He tosses the empty water bottle into
the small trash can and crosses his arms.

“I got you caramel cupcakes and a quart
of milk.” I pull the white bakery box out of my bag and open the lid to show
off the oversized cupcakes inside.

He actually uncrosses his arms and
accepts my treats. I’m not sure how well my plan works, but by the end of the
movie, the cupcakes and milk are gone and I think he yelled enough at the
laptop screen to scar it for life. Let’s just say the movie got on his last
nerve. He grumbled about it being
stupider
than that book I had him read. All I know is, his mind was preoccupied for a
while from his leg and problems, and so I considered the night a small success.

All I want is to let him know he
doesn’t have to go through this or anything else alone. I want more than I
should to be there for him. Maybe he’s trying to scare me away, but I see no
possible way to walk away from Maverick King.

•♫•♫•♫•

Today isn’t any better for Mave. It’s
worse, actually. He awoke today unable to bear any weight on the leg. Crutches
and more icepacks have arrived with pretty much the entire crowd camped out in
his hotel room.

Ben joins us this afternoon. Holding a
tube up, he says, “Good news. Topical numbing cream. Put it on your leg around
the stitches and it’ll help with some of the pain. Do not put it on Blake’s
mouth to shut him up.” We all chuckle at his joke, except for Blake and Mave.

I grab it from him and gently rub the
cream around the wound. It works pretty fast, because my fingertips are numb as
numb can be. Thank goodness, Mave will get a little relief.

“Bad news is I can’t let you on the
stage tonight. Will says he’ll be glad to fill in for you.” Ben rocks on his
heels as though he’s waiting for Mave to explode.

He doesn’t have to wait very long.

“No way! It’s my leg. Not my arms, and
the bone is only chipped!” he yells. His eyes instantly redden.

“What kind of family would we be if we
let you work through an injury? I already suck for making you work last night.
No one told me the bone was chipped,” Ben yells back.

Oh… This man is good. He knows just how
to manipulate these guys into getting what he wants. I’ve noticed one thing in
particular with Mave. He doesn’t want anyone to ever feel guilty, so Ben just
played right into that. The whole group looks on with downcast expressions.
Those stinkers are playing him, too. I don’t blame them, though. They want him
to get better and won’t waiver until he does.

Where did this dynamic group of people
come from?

“Can I stay back with him?” I ask Ben.

“Absolutely. I’d really appreciate it,
if you did. I’ve got a doctor popping in here shortly to check on you, Mave. He
already knows the no-narcotics-drill. He said he may give you something for
inflammation. I gave him permission for that only.”

“Thanks, man,” Mave mumbles as he
readjusts on his pillows, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

Later this evening, when everyone
departs for the concert, Mave visibly deflates. I had a feeling it was coming,
so I’ve already ordered him a southern spread for supper that I lucked up finding
with some research.

He hobbles out from taking a shower and
stops in shock. Pointing to the tray I have placed by the recliner, he asks,
“Where’d that come from?”

“There’s this famous soul food
restaurant close by. I even talked to the owner to make sure she knew how to
properly make sweet tea. You’re in luck!” I pat the chair for him to have a
seat. He discards the crutches by the chair and plops down before pushing it
back to recline. I can’t help but run my hand through his damp hair and give
him a kiss. “You smell yummy.”

“You can have me for supper,” he
flirts, sounding more like himself.

I ignore him and work on propping a
pillow under his leg to elevate it even more. “Let’s get some of this fried
chicken and macaroni and cheese in you so you can take that anti-inflammatory
medicine.”

I don’t have to tell him twice. He digs
in and doesn’t stop until all of the containers are empty and the gallon of tea
is drained. Where does he put it? Seriously, the man can eat an obscene amount
of food.

We move over to the bed after this, and
I curl into his side and play my fingers through the short beard developing
along his defined jawline. “This not shaving is very attractive on you.”

He sighs deeply and pulls me closer to
him, and I’m very content with that.

“I battle addiction, Izzy.”

I keep my face buried in the crook of
his neck and enjoy the feel of him playing in my hair. “You’ve already told me
that.”

“Yeah, but I have a new addiction.”

My hand stills. “What is it?”

“You. I’m addicted to your quiet calm.
I’m always restless, but you’ve become a balm for it. You soothe me. I know we’ve
only known each other just shy of not very long, but being on a concert tour
packs a lot of life in a short period. In rock nation time, we’ve already known
each other close to three years.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, and you’re an addiction I’m not
going to be able to give up. You’ve already shown me you can put up with my
issues.” He slightly raises his leg before gingerly placing it back on the
pillow. “Please let me keep you.”

I lift up and kiss him for my response.
What starts off soft and slow, quickly turns into heated and wild. The man
kisses like he plays his drums—passionately with wicked skill. I weave my hands
in his lush locks and hold on to the moment for as long as I can.

Clanging at the door, followed by a loud
hoot has me bolting off the bed.

“Ah ha! Caught you making out with my
boy instead of tending to his needs.” Max tsks. He crosses his arms, but the
grin gives his playfulness away.

“She was tending to me just fine until
you interrupted.” Mave huffs, crossing his arms with no playfulness to be
found.

Max ignores him and sits on the edge of
the bed. “Concert went fine. Will was great. Dillon let everyone know you tried
out for the Olympic figure skating category, but ended up with a booboo
instead. We did the backstage pass thing and your fans wanted to know why you
weren’t waiting in the lounge to sign autographs.”

“I could have done that.” Mave huffs
some more.

“No way would we have kept you off that
stage if you were that close. Seriously, bro. You need to stay off the leg to
let it heal.” Max pulls his phone out. “Your social media is blowing up. They
want pics of the leg.”

“They want to see his injury?” I ask,
dumbfounded.

“Oh they eat that mess up, babe. You
should peruse Mave’s Instagram. It chronicles all his injuries over the last
several years. It’ll be a good indicator of what you’re getting yourself into.”
He gets a pillow to the head by Mave for that comment.

Max turns his attention back to his
brother and snaps several pictures, some of just the leg and a few of Mave laid
up on the bed with only the lounge pants on. I’m not crazy about those shots
going viral.

Max heads towards the door and pauses.
“Oh yeah. More good news. Ben says you can perform the New Year’s Eve bash if
you keep off the leg and use the crutches when you can’t. He says to practice
‘Renewal’ while you rest.”

“Done,” Mave answers with a little
spark to his voice.

Max waves and is back out the door as
abruptly as he entered.

Turning back to my handsome patient, I
smile with excitement. “You’re going to sing.”

“Guess I am. I’ll need my journal from
the bus.”

I’m about to rush to get on that, but
his warm grasp stops me. “I need another kiss first. Baby, you’ve got to keep
kissing me back to better.”

Well, who am I to deny him that!

He whispers along my lips, “I agree
with Grace. You should let me keep you forever.” He deepens the kiss for a
spell before pulling back. “Izzy, I’m in love with you.”

My response is as immediate as the
tears that spring to my eyes. “I’m in love with you, too.” Wrapping my arms
around his neck, I caress this unexpected gift in an unrushed embrace.

After the tears dry and my heart
settles into contentment, I place a kiss on his cheek and skip out the door to
find him his journal. An exhilarating feeling follows me around and keeps
whispering that my life is just beginning.