The moment Billy arrived at the hospital, I knew. How did I know? Because he bellowed from the hallway, “Where’s my little bird?” He couldn’t help himself. He had to make an entrance, no matter what the circumstance. A clatter of footsteps and then my door swung open.
I was lying in a proper hospital bed. Warren sat, cranky and brooding, next to me in a chair that looked too small to hold his giant frame. I’d refused to speak to him the rest of the ride. Billy, Daisy, Jett, Turner and Chord filed in.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Daisy flew to my side. “Your neck.”
I hadn’t seen the damage yet. But the doctor assured me there was carnage.
“What mess did you get into now?” Billy asked, his tone joking. If I didn’t know my father, I’d think he was making light of the situation. And I guessed he was, to a degree. Humor was his armor. It was how he coped. When my appendix busted in the seventh grade he’d cracked dirty jokes with nurses. Later that night, I’d woken to him praying. Thanks for not taking her from me, he’d told the ceiling.
Warren didn’t understand and he took offense on my behalf. “She was almost strangled and then stampeded to death.”
Billy’s face paled.
I shimmied up in bed and gave everyone in the room a weak smile, my version of a thumbs up. “I’m fine. The doctor said I’m fit enough to go home.” The doctor had also given me some wonderful painkillers. Upon arriving, I’d almost had a full-blown panic attack. Quickly, an I.V. was shoved into my arm, along with something to calm me. Now it felt like I was floating on an enormous, fluffy cloud.
Turner stepped closer. He examined the I.V. bag. “They got you on some good drugs, Addy? Holy fuck!” He peered into my eyes. “Your pupils are completely dilated. You’re high as a kite.”
“This isn’t funny,” Warren said.
“I see dolphins swimming on the wall.” I giggled. The way the light cast the band’s shadows on the white wall across from me gave the appearance of a dreamy ocean.
“They might’ve given her too much,” Jett said.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Chord asked. He held up two fingers, changed it to three, then to two again. I laughed.
“That’s not how you do it,” Turner said, shoving Chord aside. “We need to see if she can walk a straight line.”
“Let’s see if she can say the alphabet backwards,” said Chord.
The doctor, a middle-aged man with thick-rimmed glasses, returned to the room. “Oh, hello.” He smiled, pressing his glasses up on his nose. “Looks like your visitors came just in time to see you discharged.”
“I’m her pop. Thanks for treating our girl.” Billy shook the doc’s hand, all strong and manly. “How’s her throat?”
“Very good considering the circumstances. Addison has some light bruising but it should fade in a few days. I’ve prescribed her some medication for the pain. Just rest and she should be fine.” The doctor’s cheeks reddened. A pause. The doctor was clearly working up to something. “Mr. Wanks and Mr. Price, my daughter is a big fan. Would you mind signing this?” The doctor held out a pad of paper and a pen.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Warren muttered. Still he signed the paper, as did the rest of the two bands. The doctor thanked them profusely and left.
Billy scratched his chin. “Maybe we should cancel Coeur d’Alene.” The next tour stop. “Hang out in Seattle for a bit while you recover.”
That was exactly the opposite of what I wanted. There was no way we’d be able to hide this from the media. It would be announced that the show was canceled because of Billy’s daughter. The fans would have a field day. My face would be plastered all over social media. Enraged ticket holders would graffiti my picture, drawing on devil horns and tails. They wouldn’t care about the circumstances. When your father was a superstar, he didn’t belong to you alone. A part of him always remained with the fans.
“No.” I scrambled from the bed. Instantly, Warren’s hands were on my shoulders ushering me back down. I didn’t miss that Billy’s eyes widened at the gesture. I settled in the bed. “Hands off, Price,” I said, smoothing the sheet back over me.
“Stay the fuck in bed,” he barked.
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think there was something going on between you two,” Daisy said. For the most part, she’d been quiet. As soon as she spoke, the look on everyone’s faces, except for Warren’s and mine, changed. Now everyone looked speculative, curious, as if they were trying to sniff out some big secret.
“Excellent observation, Daisy love,” Billy said. Then he turned his attention to me. “You and Price seem awfully chummy.”
I licked my lips, suddenly finding my lap fascinating. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Warren’s chair screeched as he stood, rising to my defense or his. Most likely his, Warren did things out of his best interest only.
I popped my head up, eyes landing on Daisy, sending her a pleading look. Billy didn’t see, he was too busy staring down Warren.
“I’m sure Billy appreciates you helping Addy out, Warren,” Daisy piped up. “He’s very grateful.” She nudged Billy.
“Yeah, grateful,” Billy said, shaking back to life.
“I bet Gabe will be grateful, too,” Daisy said. “In fact you should call him, Addy. I’m sure he’d want to know you were injured and are all right.”
Warren twisted toward me. “Gabe?”
Billy smiled, but it was hard-edged. “That’s right. Gabe. Little bird’s boyfriend.”
Then just to make it worse, Jett helpfully added, “He gave her that hickey.”