Beyond the Stix (Warrior Black #2)

Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Connor

When we got on the bus this morning, Danny and the guys hauled me into one of the bedrooms and closed the door. Once they started talking, I knew I shouldn’t have said a thing to Danny the other night. The last thing I wanted were my friends to be that worried about me.

But I’ve been a fucking bear around them since John and I hooked up, so I spilled my guts.

“I’ve been pondering what you said and I think you misunderstood John,” Danny begins, always seeing the better in people.

“I think you should stay clear if you think he’s using you,” Callum adds, rubbing at his temples.

“Are you getting another headache?” Rafe asks, concern pinching the corners of his eyes. “Did you take your meds?”

“No man. They make me fucking loopy.”

“How often are you getting them now?” I worry for my friend since Callum has been getting these headaches since last year. Though I’m also trying to deflect this conversation about me and John, Callum’s health is more important than my sex life.

“Too many,” Callum confesses. “I took something else, so I should be good. But we’re not talking about me. Tell us.”

“Yeah, you can’t avoid this or John. Between the long drive there, the time at Rocktoberfest, and the drive home, we’re going to be on the bus with these security guys for five days. Might as well just jump right into the deep end and finish it,” Bobby says before sticking a pixie stick into his mouth.

“What’s with the pixie stick? Do we need to send you to S. A. A?” Yep, I’m still trying to deflect.

“What’s S. A. A? Sex Addiction Anonymous?” Bobby’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not a sex addict.”

“No, dumbass. Sugar Addiction Anonymous,” Rafe chuckles.

“Can we get back on track, please,” Danny admonishes, then turns to me. “You need to clear whatever bullshit you have with John. Either end it or fix whatever you two have going. Whichever, I just want you to be happy, Connor. But we have Rocktoberfest and I don’t want any more crap affecting us on that stage. Got it?”

The rest of the guys agree.

“You’re right. I’m going to end it. It’s for the best.” Except, I don’t know what to end. It’s not like John and I are dating—far from it. It was a one-time hookup. Nothing more.

Now as I’m standing next to John, contemplating whether I should open the door and face my best friend—who’ll see plainly on my face that I didn’t end it with John like I set out to do.

I slide the door open and find Danny standing there grinning like he’s won the lottery. “I guessed as much.” Fuck. He figured me out.

“Wipe that smirk off your smug face,” I say, shouldering past him.

I slide a stoic look across my face and plop my ass in one of the seats. The entire ride to Ron’s place, my phone is buzzing with text messages. With John pointedly watching me, I don’t reach for my cell. I don’t need to—I know who’s messaging me.

I thought by telling my uncle that I want to move on from what happened years ago, that he’d be out of my life again. But apparently, he thinks the opposite.

“Do you know why Ron wants to talk with us?” I ask Dante, who’s scrolling in their phone.

“Not a clue,” they say, their eyes never leaving the screen.

We pull up in front of Ron’s condo, and find Fig waiting for us.

“Shit, this has to be really bad,” Rafe says as he steps out of the bus.

I can’t be sure why, but I would have to agree with my bandmate.

Unsurprisingly, Dean Harper answers the door. “You made great timing,” he greets as he moves out of the doorway.

“We weren’t so far out that the bus couldn’t turn back around. Ron’s important to us,” Danny admits with hitch to his voice.

“Danny’s right. If it weren’t for Ron giving us a chance, we wouldn’t be standing here today,” I add, followed by agreement from the rest of my friends.

“You guys give me too much credit,” Ron admonishes with a smile that doesn’t reach his tired, watery eyes. “I know you have to head out, so I’ll keep it short.”

We take a seat in the living room. Dante stands next to Ron, while Dean is positioned on the other side of our manager like a sentry. The serious dismay on the owner of Harper Security’s face conveys that he knows what’s coming.

I glance at John, who’s staring back at me with empathy. His almost-imperceptible nod offers me more reassurance than Danny’s grip on my hand.

“I called you back here to give you some news I received earlier this morning.” Ron swallows hard. Dean slips closer to him, like he’s sending strength to the man we all care about. “I got a call from the oncologist. She wants to shift the chemo treatments to an aggressive application. But I refused.”

Tears are already sliding down Danny’s face. Tobias places his hand over one of his bouncing knees when my friend asks in a broken tone, “Why?”

“The survival rate is low, and I want to enjoy what life I have left with you and the people I love. That’s why I’m going to be at Rocktoberfest like I planned. But…” Ron raises a finger, with a wobbly smile. “I won’t arrive until the day you get on stage. In the meantime, give Dante the respect they deserve. They know the itinerary backwards and forwards.”

Dante nods. “I do.”

I try to hold back the chaos storming in my head, but I’m losing miserably. We all are. Warrior Black wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Ron Darling. He took a group of guys that didn’t know a damn thing about the music business and turned us into rockstars. He did that for us.

Going to Rocktoberfest without him feels like sacrilege, but a part of me is happy to know he’ll be there when we are on stage. And yet, knowing he’s refusing chemo treatments that might help him, cuts deep at my heart. I haven’t even begun to heal from losing my father, and finding out we’re going to lose Ron soon could shatter me and the entire band.

This isn’t fucking fair.

Ron wipes a tear from his cheek. “In the meantime, Dean will keep Dante apprised of my situation, and they, in turn, will let you all know. But what I wish is for you five to kick ass on that stage like I know you can. Trust Dante, because I do. And don’t worry about me. You’re going to kill it again at Black Rock.”

None of us can talk—I certainly can’t—not with that inspiring, gut-wrenching speech. Ron steps away from Dean and spreads his arms wide. He doesn’t have to say a word, for us to crowd around him and hug him tight.

“It’s getting late, you all best get going,” Ron says with a final hug for each of us.

As we get back on that bus, I have an ominous feeling that this is the last time I’m going to see that man.

Not wanting anyone to see me as a fucking mess, I head straight to one of the four bunks, and close the curtains for privacy. I shove my face into the pillow and bawl my fucking eyes out. Not long after—while I’m still silently crying, John slides the curtain open and crawls in the narrow bunk without uttering a single word.

I don’t speak either, as he closes the curtains and squeezes his body against mine. I don’t have the energy to fight with him or tell John to get out; I can only accept his comfort as I fall asleep with his solid frame plastered to mine.