Fighting Addiction Page 12

  Markus thought he should be scared. Worried. This was what he’d been hiding from, for damn near ten years. Oh, not from Seb; that was always easy. No, from people possibly finding out, from having to deal with the fucking logistics of their lives, and from not being brave enough to see it through back then.

  “You’re thinking hard. Do you think that guy on the TV was born looking like that?”

  “Like what?” He looked, and the guy bore a striking resemblance to those eighties puppets with the weird long faces. “Huh.”

  “I know! It’s creepy.” Seb laughed, and Markus sort of basked in it. Seb needed to laugh more.

  Markus let the TV lull him, let his thoughts slide away. He needed to relax too. Stop worrying so much. This whole thing, it was eating away at them.

  Markus just hoped there was something left when they got around to settling down. If that ever happened.

  SEBASTIAN STARED at the scale, his heart pounding.

  Oh fuck. What had he been doing?

  Three pounds. Three pounds and he’d…. Oh God.

  Sebastian ran his fingers over his belly, searching for proof that he was getting heavy. There wasn’t so much as a new bubble, not even a tiny roll or bit of bumpy skin. Surely three pounds ought to cause a bubble.

  There was a knock on his bus door, and he frowned, headed over. “Who is it?”

  “Bruce, man. Are we rehearsing tonight?”

  Was he that fucked-up? Really? “Nine to midnight, full band. Three to six, jam session, just like always.”

  “Okay. Sure. Just checking.” When he opened the door, Bruce was grinning. “Man, you look great. Rested.”

  “Thanks.” He found himself grinning back, actually really pleased to see Bruce. “You get home during the break?”

  “I did. Ate a lot of Tex-Mex. It was good to crash a few days.”

  He nodded, heading out to sit, visit. He pulled out a couple of chairs, stopping as Bruce stared. “What?”

  “No sunglasses?” Bruce peered at him, then shook his head. “Go you, man. Daylight is your friend.”

  He flipped Bruce off. “Fuck off, asshole.” He eased himself down into the chair, leaning back. “You heard from Kerry? She okay?”

  “She is. You sent her flowers. She was tickled.”

  Sebastian nodded. That hadn’t even been Bev. He took care of his people. Loved them. “The baby?”

  “Still in there cooking. Jonny is looking like a ghost, a little.”

  “I bet it’s still a shock, huh?” When he thought about it too much, it freaked him out. He couldn’t imagine Jonny’s feelings.

  Bruce chuckled. “It’s what happens when boys and girls do the dirty.”

  Yeah, like he knew anything about that. He was the only man he knew who had never even tried that. Thank God Markus was all man. Sebastian smiled, thinking of Markus’s man parts.

  “Boss, we got to talk.”

  His smile faded. He hated those words. “Are you quitting?”

  “Fuck, no.” Bruce snorted, eyes rolling. “But you got to talk to Jack. He’s got you slammed after this tour for fucking months. I know you don’t need us for most of it, but it ain’t right. You got to take time off.”

  “I—” What was he supposed to say? He was used to being busy. “I’ll talk to Bev.”

  “Good. Good. You have to protect yourself, man. This whole thing, it’s a machine.”

  “I know. Shit, I’ve been in it with you since the start.” He wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t. Sebastian knew the score.

  “Yeah, but… I just think you have to pay attention.”

  He tilted his head, pondering that. “I’m more awake these days, huh? I’ll look at it.”

  “Yeah.” Bruce grinned at him. “You want to play a game of one-on-one, man?”

  “Fuck, yes.” He laughed, heading back into the bus to get a ball, feeling pretty good in his bones.

  He needed to sit with Bev, talk. First, though, he needed a hat and a better pair of shoes. Sure as shit, Markus and all the other tall fuckers would be out soon, kicking his fun-sized ass.

  He couldn’t wait. They hadn’t played a pickup game in years.

  The door of the bus clicked behind him, on the way out at this time of day.

  Who would have thought?

  Chapter Fourteen

  MARKUS TOWELED off, his dressing room ringing with quiet, which was just what his poor ears needed. His set had gone like butter, smooth and slick, but he was a little wore out from being back on Seb’s rehearsal schedule.

  Maybe he could squeeze in a nap before Seb’s set ended.

  The banging on his door was sharp, panicked, almost furious. “Markus? Mr. Kane?”

  Bev. Great. She was in full-on emergency mode too. He could tell the difference now, in her voice. “Yeah, honey?” He opened the door, his ass dragging.

  “He’s lost his mind. He says he won’t go on, that they’re demons. Demons, for fuck’s sake!” Bev was the color of milk. “Do I call Jack?”

  “What? No. No, don’t call anyone.” Markus turned and grabbed a hoodie, shrugged it on to cover his bare chest. “Show me.”

  “Hurry. Hurry, we’ve only got a little bit. I’m tempted to call 911. He’s scary.” She led him down under the stage, the roar of the crowd floating overhead. Seb was pacing, one arm bleeding, eyes crazy.

  Markus waved Bev off and gave the security guy the fish-eye until he turned his back. “Seb? What’s wrong?”

  “Candy, they’re going to eat me. I saw them.” Seb wasn’t fucking around; the man’s face was serious as a heart attack. Pale too.

  Shit. Markus touched Seb’s cheek. “No, baby. I was out there. They didn’t bother me at all.”

  “Something’s wrong with me. I can’t do this. I dreamed about it. They ate me, tore me in half.”

  “No.” He moved closer, lowering his voice. “It’s detox, baby. It’s just coming off the pills.” Markus had done a lot worse than Seb with that, in fact. Screaming, puking, relapsing.

  “De… detox?” Seb blinked at him, eyes huge. “You think so? I swear to God, Candy, it feels real.”

  His thumb rubbed at Seb’s cheekbone. “I dreamed I was being smashed between the dock and a cruise ship once, baby. Woke up with a splitting headache. It will be okay.”

  “Will you watch? Just to make sure?”

  “I will. I’ll go back behind the main stage, be right there if you need me.” He would do anything for Seb.

  “Okay. I believe in you.”

  That was the scariest fucking thing ever—that this man believed demons were out there and only needed his word to go out into it.

  Markus squeezed Seb’s shoulders. “Okay, baby. Just sing and do your butt-shaking and remember I’m right there.”

  “Okay, Candy. Don’t let them get me.”

  “Never. No one will hurt you.” He glanced over at Bev, who had managed to give them some privacy. Then he kissed Seb hard on the mouth, just a quick peck.

  Then he pushed Seb into place.

  Please, God. Don’t let Seb fuck this up.

  SEB HAD done it.

  He had.

  The hallucinations had backed off about three-quarters into his set, and he focused on nothing but singing, running around. It was hard, though, to keep from jerking, flailing his arms like they wanted to.

  It wasn’t until Markus came out at the end of the set to do the encore that his heart had stopped pounding like he was being chased by an ax murderer. Markus, with his wide shoulders and long old legs and serious Texas twang, made it all better.

  The glad-handing had almost done him in, and he’d stumbled backstage, the sound of the crowd rushing, pounding at his brain. His savior had been Bruce there, hauling him to his dressing room while Markus handled the meet-and-greet folks and the press-pass people.

  He looked at Bruce, blinking, staring as sparkles grew around the edges of his vision.

  “Seb? Man, your eyes look bad, like you’re gonna pass out.” Bruce squat
ted in front of his chair. “You need some water?”

  He nodded. He was. He was going to just lose it.

  “Seb? Sebastian? Did you not eat?” Bev came in, fluttering. “I have him, Bruce. I bet he didn’t eat. Silly man.”

  “Oh, man. Bottoming out? I got glucose pills.”

  Bev waved Bruce off. “I got it. Really. Can you make sure the band gets dealt with?”

  “Sure, lady. You want me to keep Rick out of here?”

  “Please.”

  Seb nodded too. “I need Candy.”

  “I know, but you have to wait.” Bev sighed. “I want a doctor in here. I want you looked at. I don’t like this.”

  The door opened, Markus walking in. Thank God. Markus knew. He knew the doctors wouldn’t really help. Seb was trying so hard.

  “Hey.” Markus smiled, coming to hand him a bottle of water. “Here, baby, drink this, and then we’ll get some food.”

  “Okay.” He tried to reach for the bottle, missed, then tried again.

  “This is bad,” Bev murmured, but Markus never wavered.

  “Here.” Markus took his hand, helped him take a drink. The water felt shocking. Cold. It was cold. Bright. Good.

  He swallowed hard, and his stomach thought about rebelling, but he managed it. Then he took some more in. God, that was amazing. His abs clenched, and he frowned.

  Bev was hollering at Markus. How had he missed that? “…obviously fucked-up? He’s my friend. He was telling me the fans were going to eat him!”

  Markus looked at him, those dark eyes searching his. Maybe asking for permission?

  “I’m trying to back him off the meds, Bev.”

  “Oh. Oh, thank God.”

  “It’s just making things squirrely. And he’s been eating, which he forgot today.”

  Sebastian nodded, closing his eyes as he swallowed.

  “You two can’t do things without keeping me in the loop. I can help!”

  “It wasn’t intentional,” Markus murmured. “We had that time off. We need to get him to the bus, okay?”

  “We can’t, not for another forty-five minutes. The crowd’s insane out there.”

  He shook his head, heart slamming hard. “We’ll wait. Turn on the TV.”

  “Sure, baby.” Markus turned on the TV, and damned if Bev didn’t produce a protein bar from her bag.

  “It’s good. Chocolate. You’ll like it. I need you to eat at least a bite.”

  “I….”

  She stared at him. “Now.”

  Sebastian took the bite she tore off and chewed. It was like sawdust, but it did make his head feel better. He managed to eat one more bite, the noise from the TV cutting the roar of the crowd. The noise in his head eased off too, and he was able to look at Bev and try for a smile. Markus was there, close, but not interfering.

  “I’m going to go see how the crowds look. Markus, do you want food?”

  “Oh God, yes.”

  Sebastian chuckled softly, and Bev’s eyes met his. “I could order breakfast in, or….”

  “I’m not hungry, honey. Get Candy whatever he wants.” He was too tired to eat.

  “Okay.” She gave up way too easy, but that was all right. He could say no again when the food came.

  “Don’t think it’s that simple, baby.” Markus gave him a knowing look. “You gotta eat.”

  “I’m getting fat.”

  “Bullshit. Which one of us has gotten a write-up in the rag mags about being porky, raise your hand.” Markus dared him to say anything and thrust one hand in the air.

  “Not yet. I ate a meal with you!” More than one. It was… insane.

  “Well, hell, baby. You might just explode. Boom.” Those eyes took on an evil sparkle, Markus just laughing.

  “Laughing at me! Fucker!” He threw one of the pillows off the couch, starting to feel more like himself.

  “Uh-huh. Bev, why don’t you go ahead and order that breakfast. No eggs. Just biscuits and sausage and fruit and maybe some kolaches. And a doughnut for me.”

  “You got it. Orange juice?”

  Sebastian nodded. That actually sounded good.

  When she left, leaving them quiet and alone, he looked at Markus. “I really thought they were going to hurt me.” Candy had to think he was an idiot.

  “I know, baby.” Markus checked the lock on the door before coming to him, pulling him up for a long hug. “I’m proud of you.”

  “For being a psycho?” He held on a second, loving the way the fine son of a bitch felt.

  “No. For going out there and busting through it. I know how scary coming down is.” Markus was warm, solid, like a rock, letting him lean. Then they turned in a lazy circle, Markus easing down with Sebastian on his lap.

  “I’m on your lap, Candy. Someone’s gonna notice if we keep up. You know that.” He wasn’t going to hump Markus on stage, but there were photogs everywhere.

  “I know. I’ve sure thought on it.” Markus shrugged. “I was always more worried for you. Still am. But I’m too selfish to live without you now.”

  Sebastian just sat, taking the words in for a long minute. “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” Markus smiled for him, and it was like sunrise over the bayou. “Well, good deal.”

  “Yeah.” Yeah, it didn’t suck. His phone rang, buzzing on the table, and he stared at it. “It’s Jack.”

  “So don’t answer it. What can he possibly need at this time of night?”

  He knew the answer to that. “He’ll just keep on. I’ll grab it.” He grabbed the phone. “Jack.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Sebastian looked for photographers instinctively, eyes moving. “What? What did I do?”

  “The fucking internet is already buzzing, kid. Longchamps lackadaisical. Low-energy Longchamps. What is up? You’re not interacting with the crowds now? You’re running off the stage?”

  He shook his head. No. No, the crowd had been… vicious. They’d been ready to eat him. He’d believed that. “Bad night, I guess.”

  “Bad night. Shit. Those people paid good money for you. You don’t get a fucking bad night at front row seats going at twelve hundred apiece online. What? Are you getting fat or something? Bored?”

  His hand went to his stomach. Two pounds. It had only been two pounds today. “What do you want?”

  “For you to remember that you have to fight, kid. There’s always someone waiting to push you off. You think Houston McMann isn’t working his ass off? Talking to the press? He’s featured on the Top 20 show this next week. What are you doing?”

  “Writing. Playing three shows.”

  Markus frowned, grabbing for the phone. The move surprised him so much that it worked, Candy just plucking the phone out of his hand. When he tried to get it back, Markus just held it up where he couldn’t reach it.

  “Candy?”

  He could hear Jack, still bitching. Markus shook his head, grinning, and hit the Off button, cutting Jack out of the conversation. “No, baby. No more tonight. He can call during daytime hours.”

  “Can… can you do that?” He sort of blinked, then felt a grin just growing. Okay, yeah. That was hot.

  “Just did, right? I swear, baby, if you were feeling a hundred percent, I’d be all over you right now.”

  “I get that.” He touched Markus’s throat, just letting his fingers trail. “I so get that.”

  He didn’t have words.

  Good thing he didn’t need to.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “HEY, BABY, you sure you don’t want some toast?” Markus was the picture of patience. He wasn’t letting Seb’s sudden refusal to eat again get to him. Right? Nope. Now, if that big vein in his temple would stop throbbing….

  He wasn’t sure exactly who said something or what happened, but the fucking chart was back, the scale, the six hours of sweating a day.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Have you had your shake, at least?” Bev asked, coming over with her clipboard. It was damne
d near time for their production meeting.

  Seb’s nose wrinkled, but he took it, drank about a third. “So, talk to me, girl. Tell me wonderful things.”

  She shook her head, grinned. “The new single is number one on iTunes. There’s a concert footage video coming. You’ve got to glad-hand with the local media in Vegas. You’re scheduled to be at some fancy-assed bar having drinks with showgirls after the show.”

  “No.” Seb looked stubborn. “I told Jack no. I told Penny no. I’m telling you no. I don’t drink. That time is mine. No.”

  “But….”

  Seb’s eyes flashed. “Bev. Don’t. I said no.”

  Bev sighed. “I’ll talk to Jack. I told him that was a bad idea.”

  Markus made a mental note to get with Bev. Jack had been pretty squirrely the last few shows.

  “Thank you.” Seb’s hands were trembling, that hideous fucking shake put aside. “What else?”

  “Uh… Bruce needs to know if Hank Bitters is really stopping by for a cover, midshow.”

  Seb nodded. “Yeah. He called this morning and gave the nod.”

  Huh. Hank had known them both for years and years. Markus hadn’t even known he was in town.

  “Do you know what song?”

  “Hank said to let Markus choose.”

  No pressure. Markus pondered that for a few, wondering what the hell they could let Hank in on.

  “Bruce loves to play ‘Fishin’ in the Dark.’” Huh. The crowd liked that one too. Even non–country fans loved that song.

  “Sounds good,” Markus said, still watching Seb close.

  There were cracks all in the walls Seb had, those eyes twitching, a fine sheen of sweat covering the newly shaved tanned skin. “What else? Is my sister able to come out?”

  Bev shook her head once. “No, sir. I’m sorry. Your momma needs her, she says.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.” Damn. Seb had been looking forward to that.

  “Yeah. I’m going to put some time in on the treadmill. I have a headache.”

  “You need a little more food before you do that, Seb.” Markus was starting to dig his heels in and growl.