“What did she say her name was?” I ask Mick, even though I know I heard her correctly.

Ignoring me, he rolls his eyes as he continues to support her head. She gags and coughs up foam, like a rabid dog. “Can you get her out of here?” As the words leave my mouth, I realize I sound like a douche, but she’s frothing all over the place.

Heath looks at me with his typical disgust and bends down to help support her.

Mick’s phone rings from his back pocket, and somehow he swipes it quickly without dropping the girl on the floor. “Yeah,” he says abruptly. “No, not Two, we’re on Three.” He hangs up abruptly. This is the first time we’ve had three buses on tour. Heath and I share Epic Three, Tristan and Dax share Epic One, and Epic Two is for our crew. We don’t have a name for the rig that carries all of our gear.

Within minutes, the cabin is swarming with paramedics and security officers, and I hear sirens in the distance, quickly approaching. They work on the girl, and as quickly as they enter the bus, they’re gone with their new patient. Heath, Mick and I stare in awkward silence as sobs come from underneath the blanket next to me. Mick rolls his eyes once again and grabs her skimpy clothes from the floor. He extracts her from the bed, expertly keeping her naked body shielded while leaving me partially covered with the remaining blanket. Her matted hair falls to the side, and her face is swollen and streaked with tears and black makeup. “Is she dead?” she asks.

“No, honey, she’s not dead,” Mick says as he ushers her into the hallway. “You can get dressed in the bathroom,” he instructs.

“But…” She looks at me longingly, and she’s suddenly not as attractive to me as she was last night.

Mick shakes his head, silently telling her this is the end of the road for this tryst. He closes the door before either of them can judge me for being the complete tool that I already know I am.

Heath leans against the closed door, scowling at me as the girl’s sobs can be heard through the wall while she’s getting dressed.

“What?” I ask as I attempt to discreetly pull my boxer briefs on.

“Are you serious?” he asks. “Do you really need me to tell you ‘what’?”

I toss the covers off of me, get out of bed and grab my jeans from the floor. I ignore his judgment and finish getting dressed.

“Garrett, do you even see what just happened here?”

“Of course I do,” I snap.

“You let your latest conquest leave here in tears, but not before another one stormed in and practically died from a drug overdose in front of us. Get your fucking shit together.”

“Oh, and you’re so fucking innocent. Stop acting like this crazy shit doesn’t happen with you too.” My response is weak and sophomoric. I’m an asshole.

Yet I still feel the need to defend myself in this ridiculous situation.

“And by the way, the girl who OD’d isn’t a conquest. I don’t think I even know her.”

“You don’t think?” he yells. “Seriously, dude, there is something very wrong with you.”

“Whatever,” I respond defensively. But there is something very wrong with me.

He bends down near the bed and picks up the paper that slipped from the girl’s hand. I watch as he scans it, wondering why he’s staring at it so intently.

“Who’s Sadie?” he asks.

“I have no fucking clue.”

“Well, this piece of paper says that you absolutely do know her.” An amused, yet disgusted grin spreads across his face. He reads the paper again and nods his head.

“Congratulations, Garrett. It’s a boy!” He tosses the paper my way, and I watch it float slowly to the floor.

I’m confused and scared and I can’t move.

Sadie?

Who the fuck is Sa—

“Well, Daddy, now do you remember who your baby mama is?” Heath no longer looks amused, and his voice now sounds angry, accusing.

“What the fuck are you saying?” My voice cracks and I sink onto the bed. A vague memory, an image of Sadie, enters my head, and I now realize who she is. Baby?

“Do you know her?” Heath asks, confused.

“I don’t know—” More memories flood into my head, and I remember a wild night a while ago when Sadie and a friend followed me back to the bus. I remember wanting to bang the both of them, but the only one who was interested in me was Sadie. Her friend was too busy snorting coke and popping pills. Sadie and I spent a few hours in this exact room while the other girl got so high, she passed out snoring in the lounge area. The friend was a hot mess and Sadie was just… hot… I think.

Baby?

He bends down to pick up the piece of paper from the floor. “Stop,” I say as he’s about to pick it up. “Just get rid of it.”

“What?” he says.

“Leave it. I’m sure it isn’t real.” I don’t even know why I’m saying this. I’m not even sure what it is or why there’s a baby involved.

He ignores me and pushes the paper into my hands. “Looks real to me, ass. And it has your name right here.” He slams his index finger into the paper and my eyes try to focus on what he’s pointing at.

“It says right here that you’re a father.”

I’m looking at what appears to be a birth certificate.

Name: Kai David Armstrong-Moore

Date of Birth: August 10, 2014

Mother: Sadie Leilani Moore

Father: Garrett David Armstrong

“Bullshit,” I snap and push the paper along with his jabbing finger away. I suddenly feel clammy, and I’m sweating profusely. “This is just a fucking piece of paper. It means nothing, and I barely remember this girl.”

But I do remember. I remember a lot. Looking around the room, I remember fucking Sadie on almost any clear surface for hours. I was drunk and she was wildly stoned. It was like she was on speed or something crazier. She was an animal and I loved it.

Heath’s revulsion is tangible as he tries to remain calm. “Man, stop being a fucking prick for one second and think. Did you fuck her?”

I stumble to the bed and sit down. “I’m sure I did, Heath. She’s a bimbo groupie. You know there’s a decent likelihood that I did.” I know I did. Many times.

“So think about it. This could really be your kid.” He raises his eyebrows, and for a moment I see a twinge of worry in his eyes, as if he’s trying to imagine himself in my shoes right now. “She must know you pretty well if she has your full name.” His tone becomes accusing again.

“You can get my damn name off of Wikipedia, you fuck.”

“Whatever, G. You need to address this now before it gets out of control. The baby was born a few weeks ago, and this birth certificate looks legit to me.”

“I have no intention of doing a single thing.” Except puking. My stomach churns and sweat starts dripping from my brow.

“You don’t look too good.” He grabs a bottle of water from the table near the door and tosses it onto the bed in front of me. My fingers are tingling as I reach for the cool bottle.

There’s a loud knock at the door, and Mick doesn’t wait for either of us to answer before he comes in. “This situation is not good.” He folds his arms across his chest and walks closer to the bed. “That girl OD’d. She’s dead.”

“Holy shit,” Heath says immediately.

“What?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.

“She coded as soon as they put her in the ambulance. One of the paramedics just called to tell me that she was D.O.A.” Mick shakes his head then looks back to me. “You okay?” he asks.

“No, I’m not.” I don’t want to tell him about the birth certificate she had dropped on the floor before she passed out.

His eyes sweep the room quickly. “The police are asking us to clear the bus while they collect her belongings.” He nods toward the flask and the other items that fell from her bag. “Grab what you need. I booked a suite for you at the Marriott for the rest of the day.”