Wild Open by Bec Linder

Author:Bec Linder [Linder, Bec]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rushani loaded Andrew onto the bus minutes before they were scheduled to leave, and hustled him directly to his bunk and drew the curtain. Leah caught only a glimpse of him as he stumbled through the front lounge, tripping over his own feet: his greasy hair, his pale face. He looked like death. He looked half alive.

Rushani returned to the front, where they were all pretending to be very fascinated by the home renovation show James was watching, and took a beer from the mini-fridge. There was no room left on the couches, so she leaned against the counter. She didn’t open her beer. Her shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes.

James stood up, crossed the room, and wrapped his hands around Rushani’s upper arms and gently guided her to the couch. She sat there, mute and staring, while James opened her beer. Then she took a sip and seemed to come back to life, looking around at all of them and blinking.

“Is everything okay?” Marina asked, and then rolled her eyes at her own question, because it was pretty obvious that things weren’t okay.

“He’s sleeping now,” Rushani said. “We’ll see how things look in the morning.”

“Bleak,” O’Connor said, and Leah shot him a look. He wasn’t helping.

“No doubt,” Rushani said. “But what can we do? Short of canceling the tour—”

“That isn’t an option,” James said.

“No, I agree,” Rushani said. “So we’ll just have to keep him going somehow.”

That killed the mood. Nobody had anything to say after that. Rinna and Marina drifted off to their bunks, and Leah went to the back to call Luka. They didn’t talk long—he was at an after-party for one of his bands—but it was good to hear his voice, and to be reminded that there was more to life than the tour’s weird little bubble, by turns thrilling and dismal.

After they hung up, she turned on the television and stared blankly at the screen, not even bothering to change the channel from whatever the last person in the back lounge had been watching. A man with strange facial hair talked about how to read your cat’s energy fields. Good enough.

After a few minutes of that, someone tapped on the door, and then O’Connor came in, holding two beer bottles. He wordlessly offered one to Leah, and then sat beside her on the couch and joined her in staring at the television. He was close enough to touch, and Leah gave into temptation and rested her head against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her and toyed with the loose ends of her hair. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said. It was so good to be held. She felt safe and protected, which of course was an illusion—she was a grown woman, and it wasn’t O’Connor’s job to shield her from the hard parts of life. But they could hold each other up, and offer comfort, and that was even better. “I’m really worried about Andrew.”

He sighed. “Me too. But you shouldn’t worry. We aren’t paying you enough for that.

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