Desperately Seeking Epic(76)

“You should leave it off, Neena,” Mills said as he leaned forward from the backseat.

“I look awful,” she griped.

“No, you don’t,” he insisted. “I think you look pretty badass without it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s your choice, of course, but I don’t think you need it.”

Neena flipped the visor closed and tugged off her scarf, leaving it on the dash before we climbed out. Mills made her feel cool. He won some major points in my book tonight.

The concert is in full effect and I can’t deny it’s the worst music I’ve ever heard in my life. Neena is dancing and jumping, shouting at the top of her lungs. I bend down so my mouth is to her ear. “Slow down a bit, kid. I don’t want you to tire out.”

“I’m fine,” she yells back.

She doesn’t stop moving for several songs. Then it happens. The band starts playing a song called Promised Land, and Zack dedicates it to Neena.

She loses her mind.

The melody is soft and slow, which keeps Neena from bouncing all over the place for a minute. As he starts singing, she seems to simmer down, really listening to the words. The song is about what lies ahead; the unknown. It’s about someone that’s scared, but never shows it. After the first two verses, I look down and see Neena crying as she smiles. Her hands are clasped together against her chest.

When the song finishes, the next one is upbeat and the crowd starts bouncing around like crazy again. But not Neena. She looks up at me and tugs my shirt so I’ll bend down to hear her. “I need to go home,” she murmurs.

“Okay.” I’m wondering what just happened but there’s no time for that. I tell Mills and together we begin weaving our way through the crowd. Neena is behind me, with Mills behind her.

We’ve just exit the theatre into the lobby when she whimpers, “Dad.” And then she collapses to the floor. I fall, banging my knees against the floor, and shake her a few times, trying to wake her, but get nothing. Instantly, I check her vitals. She’s still breathing. Her heart is still beating.

I toss my keys to Mills. “Get my car. Now!” I boom. Mills hauls ass out to the parking lot. Meanwhile, I scoop Neena up, her frail body limp in my arms, and hold tightly to me. “Not now, princess,” I beg her, my voice raspy as hell as fear seizes me. “Not yet.”





The two-hour drive feels like twenty. When Paul had called, they were on their way to the hospital. He’d been at a concert with Mills and Neena. My heart has been in my throat ever since. She went unconscious. Paul said she’d passed out cold. That hasn’t happened before. Ally, who’s driving us back because I’m a wreck, drops me at the entrance and I rush in while they park the car. Paul is in the lobby of the oncology floor, his head buried in his hands. Marcus is sitting beside him, passed out.

“Where is she?” I snap. His head flies up, his red and glossy eyes now alert.

“Clara?”

“Where?” I growl. I want to attack him, rip him apart with my bare hands. I left him with her for one night and this happens. How could he even think about taking her to a concert? Is he demented?

“She woke up,” he tells me. “But she’s sleeping again. She overexerted herself.”

“No f*cking kidding, Paul!” I shout. “You took her to a goddamn concert!”

People passing by us in the hallway stop and stare at us before continuing on their way. “Clara,” Marcus intervenes, stepping in front of me. “The doctor said it could have happened regardless of the concert or not.”

“You should have called and asked me first!” I yell at Paul, ignoring Marcus.

“It came together at the last minute. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. She was so . . . happy,” Paul explains.

I let out a frustrated groan. “I should have known better than to leave her overnight with you.”

Paul’s face contorts from guilt to anger. “And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I shouldn’t have trusted you!”

“Guys,” Marcus says, as calmly as he can.

“Are you serious?” Paul booms.

“You two need to quiet down or we’re going to have to call security,” a nurse tells us.

“You could have said no, Paul. But nooooo,” I rant dramatically, flailing my hands. “Saying no might make Neena upset with you. God forbid.”

“You’re right, Clara,” he mocks me. “I should have denied her a chance to meet her favorite singer and see her favorite band in concert. Because every dying kid wants to sit at home knowing they missed a chance to do something they could have. You might be that big of an *, but not me.”

“Oh, you’re an *, all right,” I assure him.

By this point, my friends have walked in to see the show. “Clara.” Vanessa says my name, calmly, as she grabs my arms.

I pull free ignoring the stunned looks both she and Ally make. “Maybe we should take her hiking in Brazil,” I jeer sarcastically. “Why not? She can handle it.”

Paul groans in obvious frustration. “This is why she can’t tell you anything,” he spats. “You’re so over the top.”

“Neena tells me everything,” I say, with offense.