“I love you,” I whisper before heading back downstairs.
While the world is full of horrible illnesses, dementia is by far one of the worst.
The disease is a heartless, cruel trick because even though physically my dad still looks like my dad…he’s a mere shell of the man he once was.
With every passing day, dementia steals another piece of him from me.
The first time he forgot who I was, I cried myself to sleep for a week straight.
But there are still times—albeit few and far between now—where I get flashes of the dad I remember.
I live and breathe for those moments.
After microwaving some of the meatloaf Mrs. Palma left in the fridge, I head into the living room.
Bringing the fork to my mouth, I plop down on the couch.
I’m about to change the channel because watching the news can be depressing, but the next words out of the reporter’s mouth make me choke.
“There’s been a fatal accident involving members of the popular Grammy award-winning band Sharp Objects.”
I clutch my chest as he continues.
“According to authorities, it was a two-vehicle crash. Sadly, bassist Josh Roland was pronounced dead at the scene as well as the two occupants in the second vehicle. Lead singer Phoenix Walker has been taken to a local area hospital and is listed in serious condition. The details of the accident are still pending further investigation, but we’ll continue to report as more information comes in.”
Oh. My. God.
A range of conflicting emotions hit me all at once, but one stands out among the rest.
Relief.
Because as much as I hate him and want him to suffer…a very small part of me is relieved it wasn’t Phoenix who died.
CHAPTER 22
PHOENIX
“I quit.”
My head pounds like it’s being struck by the world’s biggest hammer. Repeatedly.
When I make the mistake of opening my eyes, I see my publicist Alexis standing over me…looking ticked off as hell.
“Great. Now shut the fuck up.”
I’m drifting off to sleep again when she squawks, “I’m serious, Phoenix. I’ve tried to be sympathetic and cover your ass, but last night’s shenanigans were the last straw. I’m done.”
Last night?
That’s when it dawns on me that I’m not lying in the bed inside my hotel room.
I’m in the hallway.
When I shoot my gaze past Alexis, I see Chandler, Storm, and Memphis glaring at me.
It’s apparent whatever I did pissed them the fuck off, too.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I protest, even though I have no idea what happened.
I’m just trying to smooth things over so I can go back to sleep.
Narrowing his eyes, Storm opens the door to my suite.
All the furniture is tipped over, the television is smashed, and there’s a shit ton of bottles and trash littering every square inch of the floor.
There’s also an unidentifiable, thick red goo covering the walls and furniture.
It’s a mess, but it can easily be taken care of.
I peer up at Alexis. “I’ll write the hotel a check.”
“Your room isn’t the problem,” she grits through her teeth. “The problem is what else you did.”
I scan my brain, trying to recall the events of last night, but come up empty.
Sensing my confusion, she screeches, “Not only did you break a window in the hotel lobby…you had sex on top of the bar.”
“Good for me.”
Growing frustrated, she stomps her heel. “No, it’s not. Not only did everyone at the bar take videos of you screwing your brains out on their phones, you were visibly drunk and high off your ass.”
I’ll have to take her word for it since I don’t remember shit.
“Still not understanding what the issue is.”
Our fans aren’t gonna give a fuck that there’s a sex tape of me circulating around the internet. If anything, it will probably increase revenue.
Hell, everyone should be thanking me.
Her red talon swipes the air. “In case you forgot, one of your band members died due to drugs three months ago.”
How could I forget? I relive the accident every time I close my eyes.
I never should have let him drive.
“Needless to say, it’s not a good look. Fans are growing concerned and unhappy with your intoxicated antics,” she prattles on. “Which is exactly what you don’t want days before your US tour starts.”
The throbbing in my head increases as I stand. Yawning, I slip my dick out of my boxers and piss on the large plant in the hallway.