“Hey, Gordy.” I gave him a smile, pushing the memory of Lucy’s voice out of my head. Such was the aftermath of trauma. Occasionally, I’d still have nightmares of that horrific day, but I was able to rationalize my way through it. “What happened?”

“Dropped a speaker on my foot.”

“Who took off your shoe?”

“I did,” said Steve.

Gordy’s foot was swelling. Peeling off the sock, I saw that the foot was indeed busted. It seemed the edge of the speaker had landed right on top of his foot, breaking it clean in half.

“Has someone called an ambulance?” I asked calmly.

Tiny got on that while Gordy grew even paler.

“It’s that bad?” he asked.

“Can you move your toes for me?” I asked, avoiding his question.

His attempt to move them looked extremely painful, and he proved that he could not. His foot was rapidly turning a hideous violet-black. I gently palpated to find the extent of the break.

“Oh God!” he gasped.

Checking his face, I could see he was going to faint. I elevated both his feet. Steve helped me by propping crates beneath Gordy’s knees. From my medic bag, I pulled out two splints, quickly stabilized the foot, wrapped it with sterile gauze, and very gently placed an ice pack on top.

“Stay with me, Gordy. I know it hurts, but I need you to keep talking to me, okay?”

“Just tell me if it’s bad,” he begged, his voice strained.

“It’s broken, but you’ll be fine. I promise. Other than this, how has your day been so far? What did you have for breakfast?”

He mumbled on about eggs, doughnuts, and bacon.

“Oh. Well, no wonder he keeps your ugly ass around,” the venomous Swiss bitch hissed.

I scooted back toward Gordy’s head.

“Does he fuck you, so he doesn’t have to pay you? Is that it?”

Looking up, I saw that Brigid had taken a seat on the speaker Gordy had dropped on himself. After spending the last few days with the love of my life, all I could feel was pity for the poor woman.

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Gordy grunted through gritted teeth. “We don’t fuck. You’re Phil’s Baby Girl.”

Smoothing back the damp hair from his forehead, I told him, “Don’t listen to her, Gordy. I need you to be relaxed. Think you can manage that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, but it fuckin’ hurts.”

“You’re doing great,” I told him. “When the EMTs get here, I need you to do everything that they ask, okay?”

“Okay.”

“It’s going to be fine. Once you’re at the hospital, they’ll give you something for the pain, and you’ll get some X-rays done. No biggie, right?”

“Right.”

“Then, they’ll fix you up, and we’ll take you home. Where do you live? Do you live in New Orleans?”

“Yeah. Went to school with the guys.”

“You’ve been friends for a long time, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Hearing running footsteps, I looked up, expecting to see the EMTs, but I instead saw Phil and X barreling down the hallway.

Pulling up short, Phil crouched down beside me and took Gordy’s hand. “Gordy, man, what the hell did you do to yourself?”

I shook my head, my eyes telling him not to mention the injury to avoid stressing the poor man out. “He was just telling me about how you guys all went to school together.”

“He’s been with us the whole time,” said Phil warmly, catching on. “Haven’t you, Gordy?”

Gordy grimaced in an attempt to smile. “Since the garage days.”

“He has always been a part of the group,” chirped Brigid.

Looking at her now, I saw a fevered glow in her eyes and a gray tinge on her flesh. Either she was on something, or she was rapidly deteriorating in the mental health department. Hell, maybe it was both.

Surprised, Phil shot his eyes up to see his ex. He opened his mouth to say something, but the EMTs and Tiny were rushing toward us, so I poked him before he got the chance to spew some verbal filth.

“Phil, get out of the way,” I said, nudging him back. “Gordy, Steve’s going to go with you, okay? He’ll help you out with everything, and then he’ll call us with updates and let us know when you’re good to go home.”

“Okay.”

I got to my feet as the EMTs pulled up with the gurney. Steve took over and helped Gordy answer any questions.

“What the fuck happened?” Phil asked me as we watched the EMTs roll Gordy down the hall.

“He dropped the speaker on his foot,” answered Brigid. “It looked bad.”

The look on Phil’s face was fucking hilarious as he turned to face her. “Who the hell asked you? What the fuck are you even doing here?”

“I was concerned about my friend being injured,” she replied, not sounding the least concerned at all.

“I’m sure you were,” snapped Phil, digging into his pocket and pulling out my engagement ring. “Kenna, you left this in the kitchen on the bus. You gotta be more careful with it,” he said, taking my left hand and slipping it onto my ring finger.

Man, that felt good.

Brigid made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry of outrage.

“Oh…” I said softly. “Sorry.”

Bringing my hand up to his lips, he said, “Just quit takin’ it off, yeah?”

The rest of the world melted away, leaving the two of us. His eyes were filled with his soul, and he was shining through, blazing hot, and it was all for me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, feeling the burn behind my eyes and a sting in my throat.

“No worries,” he whispered back.

I suspected he felt the same.

“NOLA’S OWN!” Phil cried into the microphone. “I have to tell you, you are the greatest fuckin’ crowd! There’s nothin’ we love more than playing for our tribesmen—and definitely our women, too. Don’t think you were forgotten, ladies! You rock the fuck out just as hard, if not harder, than the dudes. I should know ’cause my Baby Girl can out-headbang every motherfucker up in this place. She puts me to shame.

“Six years ago, almost to the fuckin’ day, NOLA’s Junk played on this very stage. We were over the fuckin’ moon, playin’ for y’all back then. We were just a warm-up act, gettin’ everyone primed for the rest of the bands. Now, we’re privileged to have the honor of being your headliner.

“All these years, we haven’t forgotten that it was you, NOLA’s Own, who gave us a chance to fuckin’ follow our dreams. Even our baby brother, Connor, was at that show, just one of you. Connor, fuckin’ say hi to your tribe.”

“Hello, New Orleans!”

The masses roared back their greetings to Connor.

Phil was laughing. “I don’t think you were even legal back then.”

“No…but almost.”

Still laughing, Phil wiped his sweaty face on his T-shirt, which he had removed and tucked into the waistband of his dark brown Dickies. His amazing physique was on display for the world to see, his chest ablaze with the colors of his heart.

“So, NOLA, it comes down to this. We wrote this one especially for you, and that’s why we saved the best for last. This is ‘The Fortunate Fallen.’”

Da, Gloria, Mama Sally, and Papa David had come to see Connor in action, and they were sitting backstage with Alys, Lewis, Viv, and me while Lili scampered around, taking photos. Da squeezed my hand on and off throughout the show. Connor’s friend from Miami, Quinn, had also joined us, and she would be coming on tour with us.

“Just as long as she doesn’t prove to be a pain in the ass,” Alys had hissed in my ear when Connor had told us of Quinn.

I had a feeling that Alys already thought the girl was a pain in the ass. Quinn was cute, and if I had to guess her age, I’d say she was about nineteen or twenty. With long light-brown hair and big brown eyes, she had a pair of fat lips to rival Alys’s and a nice-sized rack. Connor did always like big titties.

Quinn would also be sharing my brother’s bunk. Crusty socks had been tossed out. I’d made him put them in separate laundry bags under the pretense of keeping everyone’s crap from getting lost. Then, I had taken his bag of crust-socks and thrown them in the garbage as he watched. I had given him two new packages, all the while giving him a hell of an evil eye. He’d turned the color of a hot sunburn.