Dazed (Connections, #2.5)(45)

“You sure? You’re back in LA for almost two weeks after tomorrow night, right? Isn’t that enough time for him to heal?”

“Technically, yes. But his old man wants him out. The doctor said that he couldn’t be sure as to how long the blood that had accumulated under Zane’s vocal cords had been there, but obviously last night, the degree of ruptured vessels was severe enough to cause his voice to freeze. The doctor advised at least two weeks of rest before another evaluation to see if surgery is necessary. Zeak wants his son to take a longer period of time off. He’s afraid that if Zane keeps singing and it keeps happening, scar tissue will build up and cause his voice to change forever.”

“Do you blame him?”

“No, I don’t.” I feel like shit that I have to put River in a position to do what he didn’t want to do in the first place. But I also know that if I don’t, the band won’t survive. If I have to cancel this tour, the Wilde Ones are done. So I ask, “Did you talk to Dahlia?”

He sighs. “Yeah, I did. She’s cool with it, Xander. I’m just trying to figure it all out.”

“You know I’ll do whatever you need me to do, right?”

“Shit, why can’t you just be an ass and make it easy for me to say no?”

“Because you have no idea what this means to me.”

“Actually I do, and that’s why I’m going to make it happen. But, Xander, remember I can’t play a twelve-string.”

Laughter and relief take hold of me. I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. “Right now I wouldn’t care if you only played the mandolin,” I joke.

He laughs and I add, “You’ll be here tonight?”

Now he sounds slightly annoyed. “I said I would. We might be a little late, so don’t get your panties in a wad.”

“That’s cool. Thanks for everything. Hey, one more thing.”

“What?”

“Ivy Taylor’s here.”

“No way. Have you spoken to her?”

“Fuck, no. You know she won’t talk to me. And besides, she’s with that *.”

“You should talk to her. Tell her the truth.”

“What’s that going to do now? She’ll just think I’m lying.”

“You want me to talk to her? I can explain everything.”

“No. I don’t need my little brother to fight my battles. I’ll talk to her if I feel the time is right. Do you hear me?”

“Whatever you say. Look, I have to run, but I want to discuss this later. And, Xander . . . you don’t know he’s an *. Just because Dad said his name once doesn’t mean shit.”

“Right. Okay, see you tonight,” I say and end the call. My head is spinning from knowing that after all these years I’m actually in the same place she is. I want to talk to her, tell her everything, but I can’t see how that would change anything anyway. Glancing behind me, I catch another glimpse of the two of them that turns my stomach. He’s such a slimeball. Since his father was hospitalized and he took over the business, he’s been scooping up labels, tearing them apart, and rebuilding them with bands he thinks are better fits. My guess is he picked up Jane’s label—that’s why he’s here. I heard they were having some financial difficulty, and he’s just the kind of bottom-feeder that would want to capitalize on being not only Jane’s agent but now also her producer. The sight of him touching Ivy makes my skin crawl.

Damon Wolf, now turned music mogul, is the agent to a select few stars. Damon Wolf—two of the last words my father spoke to me before killing himself, and I never knew why. Of all the guys in the world Ivy had to end up with—why him? I look up and they’re gone. I’m anything but relieved, though. Rubbing my chin, I’m antsy, agitated, pissed as hell, but I feel more alive than I have in years.