“Jesus,” he mutters.
Jackson and Max are my only two friends that know all about my mother, and how my father has spent the better part of half my life trying to save her from herself. I know Trip is searching everywhere in those binders in the office for the answer for why this track is failing, but he’s not going to find it in there. There’s no place in those files for, “Give all money to drug-addict wife and ruin everyone else’s lives”.
Tears fill my vision and I drop my head and bat them away. Thinking of Grace does this to me every time. I wish there was a way to wipe someone out of your memory and life for good.
Jackson wraps his arms around me and I cling to him. “Please let me help you? Come to dinner with me tonight. I have a plan to save the track I want to talk to you about.”
I sniff. “Okay. Just as friends.”
“Of course,” he replies.
I rub my eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
He doesn’t say a word, only tugs me tighter and allows the emotion to flow out of me.
TRIP
Holly’s been gone a long time. I wonder if Bill is okay? I’ve gotten to know the routine around here pretty well over the last week, and for Bill to take this long to do anything is out of character. He’s a hard worker, but gets gassed easily. I can’t count the number of times Holly has begged her father to go to the doctor, and I’ve even found myself taking her side on the topic.
Spending all my time with Bill and Holly reminds me of how nice having a regular life with a family can be, but it also brings on the concern you feel for others well-being. On the road it’s easy just to care about myself and the other guys in the band. It feels so surreal that it’s easy to pretend everyone else’s problems don’t exist—only finding concern when it affects me directly.
I make my way outside towards the garage. My mouth drops open when I round the corner and find Holly wrapped in Jackson’s arms. Her head rests against his chest as he strokes the back of her blonde head. A lump builds in my throat knowing the connection I felt with her this past week has meant nothing to her, and she’s going right back to that jackass.
Jackson’s eyes whip in my direction and he smirks over Holly’s head so she can’t see his expression while he flips me off. His way of saying he won makes my blood boil. My instinct drives me to rip Holly away from her and find a way to make her stay away from him and ask her to give me a chance. Can’t she see how much I want her?
I sigh and back away. Jackson’s smile grows wider. As much as I want her, I won’t try to force her to like me back the same way. I can’t even explain why I want her so much—I just know that I do. I haven’t had this much fun with a woman in a long time.
I turn and head to the house, not wanting to see her with him anymore.
Inside their house I hear the soft noise of the television playing in the living room. Bill’s sitting in the recliner, covered in a blanket, the remote in his hand. His color is grayer than normal, and his blue eyes appear to be sunken in a little.
I sit on the couch across from him. “You don’t look good, Bill. I think it’s time you give into Holly and get yourself to the doctor.”
“Can’t,” is all he says.
In good conscience I can’t sit her and allow a man to compromise his health because he doesn’t have the money to pay his doctor to check him out. Something has to give. “Bill, if I tell you something, do you promise not to get angry and to keep the secret between us?”
He readjusts in his chair. “Depends on how bad it is.”
I laugh. “It’s nothing bad—more like something about myself I want to keep private.”
“If that’s the case, I have no problem with that. We all have things we don’t want other people to know.”
I rub my face and let out a deep breath. It’s now or never. “I’m the investor.”
Bill raises his eyebrows. “You? Why wouldn’t you lead us to believe it was your friend?”
“I didn’t want who I am to complicate things? I wanted to come here and get a look first hand at the business and to get to know you,” I admit.
He tilts his head. “Who exactly are you, Trip?”
“I’m the drummer for Black Falcon.”
“Wow…” Bill trails off. “I wasn’t expecting that. I can’t say I’ve heard your music, but those entertainment shows sure mention your band a lot.” He glances around his house. “I bet you’re used to staying in places a lot better than this.”
I chuckles. “I suppose so, but hotels don’t have the charm this place does.”
“Ah, charm. What you mean to say is they don’t have Holly.” He lowers his gaze at me.
I lick my lips. “I’ll admit, I like your daughter, but I don’t think she feels the same way about me.”
“She likes you, trust me. I know enough about my daughter to know that.”
I sigh. “Even if she does, I think she likes Jackson more.”
Bill shakes his head. “Those two have history, and Holly is still young. She doesn’t know how to let go of a love that is no longer there. We have that in common. Give it time. Jackson will disappoint her again. He always does.”
“I don’t know, Bill. They looked pretty cozy a few minutes ago.”
Bill crosses his legs at the ankles. “That’s Jackson for you. The boy never did share well with others. Take this track for instance—thinks he owns it, like he can do whatever he wants here. Chases off riders he doesn’t want around. The boy has cost me a lot of business, running off any guy that stared at Holly a little to long, but I didn’t say much because I knew Holly loved him. That all changed a few weeks ago when he came here to call it quits with my daughter. I told that little asshole that as long as there was still a breath left in my body, I owned this place.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been sick the entire time I’ve been here. Why don’t you want to go to the doctor, Bill? If it’s money, don’t worry about that. I’ll see to it that this place gets insurance, and I pay for any medical bills you may get until then.”
Bill shakes his head. “I can’t let you do that, Trip. What I have isn’t curable. It would be a waste of your money.”
My brow furrows. “You mean you already know there’s something wrong with you?”
He nods while wearing a solemn expression. “I have HIV.”
A gasp leaves my body. I’ve never actually known someone with that virus, and I never would’ve expected an upstanding family man like Bill Pearson to have it. My eyes trace down Bill’s frail body, and things start to click. “Why haven’t you told Holly?”
Tears well up in his eyes, and he bats one away as it slips down his face. “Because there’s nothing she can do to fix it. My girl is a fixer, and it’ll destroy her because she can’t fix this. I would rather things take their natural course and she find out after I’m gone. It’ll be easier that way.”
He’s right about Holly, but that doesn’t change the fact that she should know. “Easier for who? You or her?”
He shrugs. “For both of us. I don’t want to hurt my baby. The thought that I’ll probably leave her sooner rather than later crushes me.”
“How long have you had it?” I ask.
“My wife, Grace, contracted the virus about fifteen years ago and gave it to me. I think now since I stopped getting my medications last year, things are getting worse.”
“Is that Holly’s mom? Is she still alive?” I’ve wondered about where her mother is, but I never asked because I figured it wasn’t my business.
“Yes, if you want to call what she does living. She’s a heroine addict. After Grace cheated on me and discovered she’d given me HIV, she couldn’t handle the guilt. She ran off—cut pretty much all contact with Holly and me, except when she’s out of money. That’s when she comes around. When she’s desperate to find a way to get her next fix, she comes home, and I always give in.”
I shake my head. That’s so fucking sad. I know Noel Falcon’s drug use once destroyed Black Falcon. Thank God Riff was able to get through to Noel before he got in too deep and ruined his life. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Drugs can royally screw a person’s life up. That’s a shame.”