Lead (Stage Dive 3) - Page 7/82

“You’ve got your speech?” I asked.

The frown increased. “Yeah. It’s in my pocket.”

“Great. I just need to get my bag and jacket.”

His chin jerked and his gaze skittered over me. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Just stating a fact. You look good.” He turned away.

I, however, didn’t move. At first I was stunned at the compliment, but then for some reason, leaving Jimmy alone didn’t feel right. It niggled. What if he got upset again and I wasn’t here to talk him down? His sobriety was too important to risk.

Lips fine, he studied the slowly drying patch on the front of my blouse. “You definitely won’t tell anyone?”

“No. Never.”

The air hissed out between his teeth and his expression calmed. “Okay …”

I nodded, giving him a small smile.

“Listen, Lena?”

“Hmm?”

He turned away. “There’s nothing in here, no pills or booze. I haven’t scored. I’ll do a spit test if you need it, and you can search the room…”

“No, I know,” I said, perplexed. “If there was, you wouldn’t have wanted me to get you something and we’d currently be having an entirely different conversation. Either that or you’d be back in rehab and I’d be out of a job.”

“True.”

Neither of us said anything for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest, my face stiff, tight with tension.

“You can leave me on my own,” he said. “It’s fine, go get your stuff. Do whatever so we can leave.”

“Right!” One of those false embarrassed little laughs startled out of me. Crap. I’d completely forgotten. “Yes, okay. I’ll get my stuff.”

“Great.” He pushed a hand through his hair the same as he’d done maybe a dozen times a day since I’d come to work for him. It was nothing new. Immediately, however, my heart did the drop-and-squeeze thing again.

No. NO.

It couldn’t be connected to him, I refused to believe it.

“Are you going?” His face skewed with annoyance and thank God for that. His open irritation relieved me no end, we were back to normal.

“Yes, Jimmy. I’m going.”

“Now?”

“Right now.” I strode out, slamming the bedroom door shut behind me.

I did not have feelings for Jimmy Ferris. What a ridiculous thought. He was a former addict. And while I admired and respected him for taking charge of his life and fighting that battle, I did not need to get involved with someone who’d barely been dry half a year. Also, Jimmy was not a particularly nice guy the bulk of the time. A general lack of interest in, and consideration for, everyone else inhabiting the planet was his go-to setting.

But worst of all, the man was my boss.

I didn’t have feelings for him. I couldn’t, no way. I’d fallen for unsuitable, unstable, and outright criminal ass**les in the past, but I was done with that. Especially the ass**le and unstable portion. There’s no way I had feelings for him. I’d really grown as a person and shit, right?

I slumped against the nearest wall. “Fuck.”

I took a deep breath, focused on the funeral.

Things would get better.

CHAPTER TWO

Things didn’t get better.

Mal’s mom had apparently loved lilies. My head swam with the sweet rich scent. Seats had been saved for us down in the front with the family which was fortunate, because the church was packed. It felt all kinds of awkward sitting with the Ericsons given I barely knew them, but that was where Jimmy wanted me. Security stood out front, putting the kibosh on any uninvited guests. A group of fans stood outside despite them and the weather. They’d called out to Jimmy, waving T-shirts and other shit to be signed when we walked in. I’d wanted to growl abuse at them, tell them to get a clue. Jimmy hadn’t given them the time of day. You’d have thought in the guy’s hometown, there’d be more respect for his privacy, especially at a time like this. Some people just didn’t think or it didn’t suit them to think. What they wanted was more important and screw everyone else.

God, I hated people like that.

Up front, the organ player pounded out a hymn and people sang along as best they could. Jimmy would talk next. His face still seemed paler than normal, a little grey even. The man might not be clinging to me, but he clearly wasn’t all right. I grabbed his hand, holding on even when he flinched back from the contact. The look he gave our joined hands was distinctly bewildered.

“It’s okay,” I said.

He gave up trying to free himself of me and started fussing with the knot in his tie.

“Jimmy, you’re going to be great.”

The song wound down. Mal turned to us and god, the man’s face. He looked devastated, eyes stark with loss. Anne, the drummer’s girlfriend, stood at his side, her arm wrapped tight around Mal’s waist. There’d been a hiccup with their great love affair a week or two back. It was good to see them together again, especially today.

Mal nodded to Jimmy, giving him the signal, and it might have started out with me holding onto him, but now the situation had definitely been reversed. Fingers clutched mine, bruisingly tight, but he made no other move. He’d frozen.

On my other side, David leaned forward, frowning. “Jim?”

There was murmuring in the hall, the crowd growing restless. Up in the pulpit, the preacher stepped forward, craning his neck and looking out expectantly.

Someone had to do something.

“Let’s go.” I put my hand to his back and pushed. Hard.

He blinked ever so slowly, like I’d woken him from a deep sleep.

“Time to go, Jimmy. You’re on,” I whispered. “Walk.”

Steps painfully slow, he moved out into the aisle. I followed, the weight of all those stares making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. No matter. We walked side by side, my hand guiding him, never leaving his back. Up the steps and then onto the podium. I fished in his coat pocket for the speech, laying it out flat in front of him. There was whispering out in the crowd about our odd behavior. Screw them. Nothing mattered but getting him through today intact.

“You got this?” I asked.

He scowled. “Yeah.”

I stepped to the side.

For a moment his gaze searched the crowd, moving over David and Ev, Ben the freakishly tall bass player, and then Mal and Anne. Next he turned to me, his mouth a grim line but his eyes asking for something. I gave him a little smile, a discreet thumbs up. No part of me doubted he could do this. Whatever else he might be, Jimmy Ferris was special and complicated, beautiful and beastly, all rolled into one. A natural-born performer.