Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (23 page)

“Good luck girl,” he says sadly, shaking his head.

“Anyone else like to try?” Lux speaks up from the sidelines.

Roger raises his drink in the air with his free hand.

“I’ll do ‘er.”

Lux smiles knowingly and waves his hand in front of him, gesturing for Roger to step forward. Roger leaves Tiffany’s side and hands her his drink, then runs his hands over the sides of his head, tightening his ponytail. When Monica is done placing those cups over Roger’s lower abdomen and sides, she takes her seat again with remote in hand,

“Are you ready?” she asks.

Roger curls his hands into fists.

“Fuck, yeah!”

“All right then,” she says coolly.

Pressing her thumb down a few times, she starts Roger on stage one. He does pretty good. It’s almost boring, although every once and a while he makes a face that looks like he has to fart or something.

“Frankie. What the fuck?” he says, still looking up.

Monica glances up at me, grinning and hitting the button again. Roger winces but stays quiet at least for a minute before he hisses.

“Shit…” His hands cover his stomach and he winces again. “Fuck!”

“What does it feel like, Roger?” Matt laughs off to the side of me.

“Feels like I gotta take a shit!” he cries when Monica presses down again. “Fuck! Shit!”

Oh, my God. I’ve seen Roger hammer his thumb by accident and even fall out of a moving vehicle and laugh. But watching his face screw up in pain as his moans grow louder? Shit.
Now
I’m scared.

He turns on his side and curls into a ball, which seems to make things better, but when Monica presses the button down again to activate stage three, Roger loses it.

“FUCK THAT! EP!” he screams. “Fucking epidural!”

Just like that, Monica’s thumb presses down and Roger instantly relaxes. Sweat breaks across his face as he shakes his head.

“Sophie, I am so fucking sorry,” he says, pointing at me.

My heart drops as Roger stands, refusing to take back his drink when Tiffany tries to offer it to him. Roger turning down a drink? Shit. I’m fucking terrified.

“Well, that’s two that can’t do it,” Lux says with an evil grin. “Anyone brave enough to try, I got the ten grand right here.”

Lux pulls two fat wads out of the inside pocket of his khakis. Oohs and ahhs sound out behind me.

“Fuck. I will.”

Caleb steps in, grinning back at Tristan and me.

“You sure?” Lux raises his eyebrow in question.

Caleb just ignores him and heads over to the gurney. Monica blushes when she raises his shirt and nothing but tatted abs flex beneath her fingers. When she’s done hooking him up, she doesn’t hesitate before starting up.

Caleb does stage one with fucking ease, cracking jokes at the guys. Monica can’t stand it. She gives him a brief glare and hits the button again. Caleb goes from laying down to sitting up on the gurney, but a smart-ass grin dances on his face.

I glance over to Monica. She hates it. His teeth clench every now and then, but he still keeps up. Then she presses down again. Fuck. Caleb is going into stage three. His face gets red and his jaw tightens even more, the intensity causing sweat to break out on his forehead. Caleb still keeps his mouth closed, though. What a fucking madman!

“Fuck, yeah!” someone screams behind me.

Lux walks up to Monica as Caleb takes the shocks.

“I’ll be damned,” he says, glancing down at his watch. “One more minute. Hit it, Monica.”

She nods her head at him then presses down again. A painful groan escapes Caleb’s closed lips as he tightens his fists at his sides. His eyes focused on the ground, he silently suffers through it. Holy shit!

“That’s it!” Lux throws both arms up. “Congrats, Caleb. It’s a boy!” he laughs.

Caleb instantly relaxes when Monica’s thumb presses down on the remote again.

“Fuck, dude,” Roger says.

“That’s just fucking crazy.” Frankie says under his breath, snapping his fingers.

What the fuck? I’m the one that’s gonna be having the real baby. All they’ve pretty much done is just freak me the fuck out even more. Good fucking thing I’m heading home. I need my mom.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tristan

The jet’s tires screech across the tarmac when we land at Detroit Metro. Sophia leans over with her hand resting above her belly, peeking out at the runway and smiling. Every time she comes through here, she always lights up. I noticed that back when we first toured.

I stretch my arms out the best I fucking can. We’re flying commercial and I even have one of those fucking exit seats, but shit is still tight. I remember Sophia telling me she wanted to stop somewhere before heading north to her parents.

“Where we going?” I ask her.

Her smiles fades when she glances at me.

“Royal Oak.”

I should’ve known when she said Royal Oak. When we drive up, I park outside the gates. Sophia stays still, only speaking when giving directions. Again, I was fucking stupid, but now seeing the cemetery, I remember this. Coming here before. She’s going to Cory.

Her hands run circles over our baby. She’s wearing her dad’s
Cowboys from Hell
Pantera t-shirt that used to be baggy on her but fits snugly. Spring here is gray and wet. Not too cold, but damp as fuck.

Sophia raises her index finger, telling me where to turn then holding up her palm for me to stop. My eyes instantly scan to the left, and there it is, but it looks so fucking different than the last time. The space seemed more open before. Now, more headstones line each side and the small tree that was planted has already grown thicker and a few feet taller. Sophia opens the car door carrying that same box I always see here or there, and heads over to Cory’s grave.

What the fuck do I do? I decide to just wait in the car. I don’t know. Maybe she wants alone time and shit. But when she walks up to his headstone, my girl just stands there, her long, brown hair whipping in a cyclone around her. Opening the door, I notice Sophia’s lips moving as she squats, her belly getting in her way as she tries to sink to the ground. She grabs hold of the headstone for support.

She sets the box down to the side of her and opens it, pulling out a small, leather pouch. Taking out a pinch of what looks like tobacco, her eyes close tightly as her lips begin to move. She’s praying. Curious, I step in closer. I know Sophia’s native, but I usually catch her doing the sign of the cross or something when she thinks she’s alone. This is different. When she opens her eyes, a tear glides down her high cheekbones as she looks up at the gray sky. Then, looking down, she empties her hand over Cory’s grave then just sits there for a few more minutes.

I stand back, not wanting to get too close. Not out of awkwardness, but out of respect. Sophia needs to have time with him. Before, I would have just rolled my eyes at this, but after being with her… I’m so fucking grateful that I can be here, a part of this with her.

I would be a fucking wreck if I lost one of my friends. But her face lights up, she’s not in grief. The way she looks at this moment, with her eyes closed and smiling, reminds me of when I partied with Dollar Settlement back when we first started touring. She’s connecting with him.

My eyes roam over her as I watch my beautiful native girl kneel down. The sight of her with our child… how did I get so fucking lucky? Then, my old man’s presence grows strong and I can’t help but smile.

“You ready?” Sophia’s soft voice breaks me from my own trance.

She’s still kneeling but is wearing a small smile, her eyes wet.

Nodding at her, I walk over and help her up. Her eyes look down at Cory’s grave the entire time.

“God, I miss him,” she whimpers.

My head jerking toward hers, I watch Sophia swipe her fingers under her eyes, wiping her tears away.

“You think he knows?” she asks, glancing up at me.

Knows? Knows what? Then, I just say the first thing that comes to mind.

“He knows.” My lips curl down at her. “He’s here, my girl.”

Sophia closes her eyes and breathes in, almost as if she were trying to feel him. Smiling, she nods.

“Yeah, I know.”

We head back to the car. Wrapping my arm over her shoulders, I pull her in to me.

“Next stop, in-laws,” I say.

Sophia shakes her head and laughs.

“In-laws?”

“Yeah,” I shrug, laughing back at her.

She’s gonna marry me, damn it! Even if I have to get all “Tristan Scott” style on her tight ass, as she would call it. Helping her into the car, Sophia leans in and plugs her phone in through the AUX cord. She gives me an apologetic smile as I climb in.

“I just have to,” she says then presses play. Offspring's
Gone Away
starts to play.

Oh, okay.

Taking her hand in mine, I run small circles over her knuckles as I drive. She stares out the window as the lyrics take over. Fuck! If only I had the power, I would. I know my girl really needs her friend right now, and he’s not here. More tears spill from her eyes, each one ripping pieces of skin from my heart at seeing her this way.

“Tristan?” she says quietly, staring out the window.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Fuck, baby. I do, too.

************

“Tristan! How’s it going?”

Joe comes up to me and gives me a hug, then a slap on the back. He reaches for Sophia, holding her at arm's length before pulling her in.

“Babygirl! Look at you. Like the shirt,” he says and she laughs.

Thea comes up beside Sophia, resting her hand on Sophia’s back. I start carrying in our luggage.

“How are you feeling?”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” Joe says behind me.

After bringing everything in, Sophia finds her spot on her parents’ couch. Their place kind of reminds me of home with the forests nearby, but that’s about it. You head down a couple blocks and you’ll already be in the city.

Fuck, what city is near my place? Sophia told me when she was younger, she loved that fact that she lived in Madonna’s birth town. I couldn’t care less; Frankie was the one that freaked over that. It’s pretty much like Sophia described it. It's an hour's drive to her ‘rez,’ as she would call it, but they live in the suburbs closer to her dad’s work.

“Hey, Tristan. You in the mood for a little jam sesh?” Joe grins at me.

I can tell he’s itching to show me what he has when he lifts his old Peavey from the wall.

“I had a band back in the day, you know.”

I know, Sophia has told me, but I want to hear his side.

“Yeah, we were called “The Burden of Existence.” My eyebrow raises at him, but he just rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I think ’shrooms named us, anyway.”

I laugh and Joe ends up showing me some fucking sick rifts on the guitar. Fuck, I actually want to show Caleb this shit. It’s so sick.

Sophia and her mom go about doing whatever the hell it is they do. Joe teases and says they’re probably with nature.

“I’ll be right back.”

He raises his finger and leaves the room. When he returns, he carries a couple of DVDs.

“I had these made a few years ago,” he says.

Setting them down on the coffee table, he leans over and reads one.

“Ah-huh. Here it is. Babygirl did a little show when she finally formed her band, so we drove down there to check it out,” he says, popping the DVD in. “You can never be quite sure if one is really your child ’til something happens,” he jokes. “This was the moment I knew for sure.”

He laughs out loud. Holding his gut, he shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with ya.”

He looks over his shoulder, nervous that Thea may have walked by. It’s so fucking funny. Joe is your typical Italian guy, but the moment he thinks his wife just caught him disrespecting reminds me of a boy looking out for his mom when he’s doing something bad.

“I got this when babygirl was just starting out.”

He grins, then sets up the DVD. The screen is kind of blurry as the recording tries to focus, then, a young Sophia comes into view, sitting up on a small stage. Even Roger looks like a fucking boy. Then Cory walks by and pulls up a chair by my girl. She’s wearing the torn jeans I know all too well.  Smiling at the camera, she crosses her legs and pushes up the sleeve of her t-shirt. Thea whispers to Joe in the background of the video. I can just picture him, the proud fucking papa taping his baby girl.

Jared steps up on the stage holding his bass as he stands behind Sophia. She glances up at him and he plays the opening to Nirvana’s
Come as You Are
, the deep bass pulsing. My girl nods her head to the beat, then grabs the mic and sings softly.

“Come, as you are, as you were...”

Watching the home video, I’m lost in the young Sophia as she sings. Banging her head slightly with Roger’s drums, she shakes her slightly when she sings, “No, I don’t have a gun.”

Cory stands  when the solo picks up, even adding his own flair to the notes. Fucking sweet. No wonder Lux signed them. Even back then, you can tell they fucking rock.

Just as we’re getting into the video, Thea screams from out on the porch.

“Joe!”

Sophia’s dad’s eyes widen when he looks at me before shooting up. Following him out, my heart fucking drops when I see my girl hunched over the railing with Thea rubbing her back.

“What the fuck is going on?” Joe’s voice sounds worried.

Thea points to the small puddle on the ground.

“Her water broke!”

Ah, fuck!

“What?” Joe exclaims.

I walk over to Sophia, who winces when I touch her back.

“Fuck, Tristan,” she moans. “I probably just pissed.”

Fucking of course. Only Sophia would try to downplay right fucking now. My eyes grow when I stare at the puddle beneath her. I try to lean her over my way.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“No!” she screams. “It’s not time yet.”

“Sophia, we have to go!” Thea urges her then heads into the house. “Get her to the hospital!” she calls out behind her.

Tears stream down Sophia’s face. Joe rushes to her side.

“Come on, babygirl,” he says.

Fuck that. Stepping in front of him, I bend over and lift her up.

“Tristan!” she wails.

Right now isn’t the time for her to feel fucking embarrassed.

“Shut up,” I say quietly, trying to get some kind of reaction out of my girl other than fear.

Sure as shit, it works. She slaps my back as I carry her out to the car. She winces when I let her go.

“Fuck!” she hisses, holding her stomach.

I watch her, pinching my eyebrows together.

“Did you feel anything at all today?” I ask, but I already know that fucking answer, goddamn it.

She’s quiet and I huff as I slam the door. She should’ve fucking said something if she started feeling off. What the fuck?

Sophia gets all defensive when I climb in.

“I thought it was just gas or something. Shit! How was I supposed to fucking know?”

“When did this fucking start happening?” I look at her and ask.

“I don’t know… before we left,” she mumbles.

What the fuck? Twisting my head around, I glare at her.

“You should’ve fucking said something! We shouldn’t have been traveling.”

Fuck! What the fuck am I supposed to do? She’s early and shit and now her water’s broken.

“Tristan, please,” she whimpers as she holds her stomach. Fuck!

Not waiting another fucking second for her dad, I take off.

“Wait!” she screeches but I don’t fucking care. I haul ass out of there.

I try to type in ʻhospital’ on the GPS. I don’t know shit around here. Fuck! Panic rises when Sophia grabs her belly again as I head for the highway. Fuck, you would think there would be a hospital by now closer to the city.

“Take the first exit then head left,” Sophia groans.

I want to be pissed at her for hiding this shit all damn day, but I can’t. The look on her face would bring any man, especially me, to his fucking knees.

Finally, after a long twenty minutes, I find the goddamn hospital. The transmission jerks as I slap the car in park as it still rolls.

“Tristan!” Sophia says as she takes hold of the handle beside the door.

Ignoring her, I climb out. Sophia being herself, she gets out of the fucking car before I get to her. Glaring, she rolls her eyes at me. She turns around and I follow her when she heads inside through the sliding glass doors. Stepping up to the registration desk, Sophia pauses and winces again.

“Can I help you?”

No. It’s just someone that obviously is fucking pregnant holding her stomach in pain!

“Yeah, um…” Sophia runs her tongue over her lips. “I think I’m in labor,” she says, lowering her voice.

The receptionist smiles at her.

“We’ll get you looked at.” She gestures in front of her. “Would you take a seat so I can get some information?”