Having Hope (The Blow Hole Boys Book 4) (16 page)

He pressed his forehead to mine, his hot breath striking my lips with each of his pants.

“When I close my eyes, I can still feel your tight pussy wrapped around me. It’s hot and wet, squeezing me so hard until I come deep inside you.” He trembled. “You want me, Hope. You want to fuck me. Your body knows it. I can tell by the chills covering your skin. I can smell your wet heat. When you get your mind on board, you know where to find me.”

Then he released me and walked away without looking back.

My knees shook from his words, my slit throbbing so hard for his intrusion I had to press my back against the bus to hold me up.

His whispered words moved over my body like a hot wave. My nipples grew harder, almost pained in their desire.

I couldn’t get on the bus like this. The girls would take one look at me and know. As it was, I’m sure they heard us arguing just outside the bus. Chet and I rarely talked to each other. They would have questions. They would want to know what was going on.

It was the last thing I wanted.

Still, we had to pull out soon and head to our next gig, which meant I didn’t have any choice. Pulling myself from the cool, metal side of the bus, I pulled open the door and climbed on board.

Thankfully, the girls said nothing. They didn’t even look my way as I made my way through the bus toward my bunk. I didn’t have any answers for them. I didn’t really have any for myself. The only thing I knew was the second the girls were asleep, and I had some alone time, I was touching myself.

I’d come quietly in my bunk while I secretly thought about all the wonderful things he promised.

We pulled out for the four-hour drive to Orlando right after the Siren’s show. I left Hope just outside her bus with a raging hard-on and the hammer destroying my brain. The boys played video games and talked to their wives for the ride, but I lay in my bunk in agony.

We were playing four separate shows in the Orlando area, which meant we would be hotel living for a few days. Usually, I’d be pumped about the amusements parks. I was a child at heart and being that close to Disney World with the money to go was awesome, but I couldn’t think about any of that.

I checked into my room like normal, leaving the guys to go to their rooms, and went straight to my shower. I’d already booked my flight to California, and I had three hours until I was leaving. I didn’t even unpack. Instead, I left my things on the bed, only taking what I needed for the quick trip back to California, and left as soon as I was showered and dressed.

Our first Orlando show was the following night, which meant I was cutting it super close, but I had to do what I had to do. I’d make it back in time for my boys. It would be a lot, and I’d be fucking exhausted by the time I stepped on stage, but I knew I could pull it off.

The guys were aggravated with me, and I didn’t blame them. I’d been so fucked up on tour. I was all over the place. I barely hung out with the guys, and I was sure my distance was obvious, but I had to do it. I was a fucking mess, and things were getting worse. If I didn’t get back to Doctor Patel and soon, I wasn’t going to make it through the rest of the tour.

I took a cab to the airport, feeling like shit for leaving the guys without telling them, but one of the best things about being me was that nothing was unexpected. The guys trusted me. They knew I’d be there when it was time to step on stage. This wasn’t the first time I’d disappeared on them, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. They would bitch when it was time to go on, but they were used to it.

The non-stop flight from Orlando to Los Angeles was six hours. I called Doctor Patel on his personal phone once I was settled into a cab and on the way to his office. He knew I was coming, and thanks to my rock star status, he pulled strings for me.

I got to his office two hours later. It was after hours, so the office was dark and empty. The fake plants that lined the waiting room looked like jagged shadows. I’d never been inside a dark, empty doctor’s office. It was creepy.

Doctor Patel met me at the front door. He was wearing jeans and a button up instead of his usual long white lab coat. He didn’t look like a doctor; he looked like a man about to hang with his friends.

I followed him to his office, and once he settled behind his desk, he finally looked at me.

“You look like shit,” he said.

Doctor Patel wasn’t your normal doctor, and we’d grown past our doctor/patient relationship over time. He no longer doctored me. Instead, he was blunt and to the point, which was exactly how I liked it. It was one of the main reasons I always ran back to him.

“I feel like shit.”

“What’s going on?”

“The headaches are getting worse, and sometimes, I lose track of what I’m doing. I forget where I am or who I am. It doesn’t last long, but it’s scary as fuck.”

He shook his head and tapped the edge of his desk. “You need to have the surgery, Chet. This tumor isn’t going to just go away. If your symptoms are getting worse, then it’s probably growing.”

“I can’t.”

When Doctor Patel had first mentioned surgery, I was all for it. I wasn’t afraid to be put under. Let them chop at my brain if it meant waking up and being normal again, but that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t until he started talking about the things that could go wrong that I pulled back.

A forty-five percent chance I could wake up blind was bad, but it was the fifty percent chance I’d never pick up a drumstick again that was the big fuck no. A fifty percent chance was too great a risk in my book. I couldn’t live without my eyes and my ability to play drums. Drums were my life. So instead of having the surgery, I was determined to live was what left of my life to the fullest.

“You can do this, Chet. The surgery has its risks, but you can’t live like this, man. High on pain pills until the end. That’s no way to live.”

“Yeah, but it’s better than being blind. It’s better than never playing again.”

He sighed.

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

I nodded. “I’m sure a life without my drums isn’t much of a life for me.”

“There’s a fifty percent chance that things could go wrong, but there’s also a fifty percent chance that you could wake up and things would be fine. You’d be you again, Chet. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t take that chance.”

And I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

The risks were too high. I’d rather die than live my life dependent on people because I couldn’t see. Thanks to my tumor, I’d gone blind before. And although it was brief, it was terrible. I could never do it permanently.

The blindness was scary, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I couldn’t play. It was a punishment worse than death as far as I was concerned. The location of the tumor promised all kinds of problems, but I could still play right now. If by some chance the tumor continued to grow and that ability was taken away from me, I’d consider the surgery. Until then, it was a big fuck no.

Doctor Patel stood and chuckled softly to himself. “Then let’s get you an MRI and take a peek and see how much it’s grown. I’ll see what I can do for pain management.”

The tumor had definitely grown, but on top of that tumor, there was a new one. It was small, but it was pressing against important blood vessels and threatening my occipital areas.

In other words, I was fucked.

“Another fucking tumor?” I laughed. “That’s just my luck.”

I could laugh about my situation now. I’d gone through it all, and the fact that I’d lived as long as I had was a miracle in itself … especially considering how I’d lived.

Drugs.

Sex.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

The works.

I lived balls to the wall and balls deep every fucking day. Or at least I had before my brain started to feel like it was going to explode.

No.

I’d lived that way until Hope, but I wouldn’t admit that out loud.

Living on the edge was the least I could do considering. You know the whole going out with a bang shit.

That was me.

Living on the edg
e
.

Always.

Then again, maybe it was the fact that I was living so hard that I was still alive. A body at rest went into rest mode, and there was no rest for the wicked fucks like me. Always on the go. New pussy every other night. Shit. I was living the life of a fucking king.

Until Hope.

Not that I was blaming her that things were catching up with me, but obviously, slowing down wasn’t the way to go, and being with Hope made me secretly want to slow down.

All my boys were settled down, living the domesticated life, but not me. Hell, no. Anchoring a woman to me would be cruel, and while I was known to stick my cock in something new every other day in the past, I wasn’t a cruel man. I couldn’t do that to Hope, if she even wanted me that way.

“I’m going to say you have six months.” Doctor Patel’s words broke through my thoughts, making the air rush from my body.

He was also smiling. He knew there was no need to pull the normal sad doctor bullshit talks with me. I was dying a motherfucker, and we both knew it. I kept coming back to him because he kept shit real. No sugarcoating, and I was all for that.

I knew I was on borrowed time, but I’d never had a date set in mind. I just went about my days always wondering if I had months, weeks, or days. I thought knowing would make me feel better.

It didn’t.

Six months wasn’t a long time, but I’d make the best of it for as long as I could.

“Okay. I got some serious partying to get under my belt.” I chuckled, patting my knees as I stood.

“Try to keep the drugs and drinking to a minimal. I don’t want you taking anyone else down with you.”

“Ah, come on now, doc. You know I’m going down in a blaze of glory. Fuck minimal.”

Doctor Patel laughed out loud, shaking his head. He knew me well since I’d been his patient for over two years. He tried over and over again to get me to have the surgery and all the other shit that would make my life hell, but I wasn’t having it.

Fuck that.

If God wanted me, he wasn’t going to have much of a fight on his hands. And since I knew I had to go, I was going to live loud and hard until I took my last breath.

*****

Three hours later, I was in another cab headed back to the airport. With closed eyes, I lay back against the seat and replayed Doctor Patel’s words.

He switched me to another painkiller and sent me on my way with a promise that if it got worse, I’d come back to him and consider the surgery. I promised even though I knew that wouldn’t happen. I had no reason to live. Not really. But I had plenty of reasons to see and play.

One thing was for sure, I had to stay away from Hope … my Blackbird. I’d denied it to myself for a while now, but I was starting to feel things for her, and I wasn’t willing to let that happen. It wasn’t fair to her or me to starting bringing emotions into something that could never be. Plus, I wasn’t so sure she wanted anything more to do with me anyway.

I’d get my ass back to Florida, play the fuck out of my drums, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I’d spend at least one more night inside Hope. I had everything else I could want in life; she was the one thing missing. I’d enjoy her once more before I let her go. It was the humane thing to do instead of dragging her along with my crazy bullshit. She would go back to hating me. She’d probably stop talking to me, but it was what I had to do. Either way, things weren’t going to end well for her when it came to me.

I checked my phone for the time as the cab pulled up to the airport, but it was dead. I hadn’t thought to bring my charger, and since I depended on my phone for everything, including my contact list, I had no idea what anyone’s number was.

It didn’t matter. The clock inside the airport told me I was going to make it. Hell, at this rate, the guys wouldn’t have even noticed I was missing … hopefully.

It wasn’t until I saw that my flight had been delayed that I started to freak out. I’d make it back in time to play if it was the last thing I did, but if by some chance that didn’t happen, I knew the shit would hit the fan. The guys were going to be so pissed. Not showing wasn’t an option, but the longer I sat in the airport, the more it looked like I wasn’t going to make it back in time.