Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(47)

“But what if they are wrong? What if—?”

He shook his head. “All I can do is live day to day… I take extra medications to try to slow the CAV down. I made my strict diet even stricter and I sleep in a recliner instead of a bed. Anything and everything to squeeze out a little more time to do my work and see that gallery opening.”

I fought for another argument but I had nothing left. I exhaled roughly. “Can the record just show I got through this conversation without a drink or a cigarette?”

He busted out laughing and our eyes met, a moment, a heartbeat, and then we were in each other’s arms, holding on tight.

“Jonah…” I whispered against his neck.

“I know.”

“I don’t…I can’t…”

He rocked me gently. “I know.”

We stayed there a long time, until Jonah gave me a final squeeze and held me by the shoulders. “Let’s get back. It’s late. We’ll get some sleep and in the morning…”

“Jimmy comes to take me to the airport,” I said. “What do I do then?”

“You go with him. Talk to Lola. Decide to either stay with the band or work out how to quit if that’s what you need to do. You’ll find a way.”

“And what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

I looked up at him sharply. “A little late for that, pal.”

His smile was gentle and quiet, and his voice quavered as he spoke. “You’ll either keep in touch with me or you won’t. If you do, I’ll be here for you. And if you don’t, I’ll understand. I promise you I’ll understand. Okay?”

I didn’t say okay. Not one bit of this was okay. My mind hadn’t wrapped around everything yet; I had more tears to cry but now my eyes felt drained and numb. We walked out of the Bellagio hand in hand, out from under the glass flowers; a garden that would never wilt or die.

We went back to his place. Without discussion, I piled the pillows high on the bed so he could lay inclined, then I curled up next to him.

I understood why he didn’t tell everyone his situation. Pain like this went beyond the realm of private or personal. It lived down deep, beneath everything superficial, and drew everyone who knew it down deep with it. It closed distances.

We lay curled up in each other, and I laid my head against his chest.

“Does this hurt?” I whispered.

The rumble of his voice in my ear was drowsy. “No. I’m all right.”

“Does anything hurt right now?”

“No, Kacey.” Jonah stroked my hair, held me tighter. “Right now, nothing hurts.”

He rose and fell with easy breathing. Beneath my ear, his heart beat strong and steady.

A flicker of hope in me flared, determined to burn all night long.





I looked out the window to see a black sedan roll into the parking lot of Jonah’s complex. Jimmy Ray got out, leaned against the fender and lit a cigarette.

I turned to face Jonah at the kitchen counter. “He’s here,” I said.

“Okay.”

“I have to go,” I said, trying to muster strength for the decision that lay ahead. I’d gone to sleep last night floating on hopeful peace, and woke up feeling seasick. The impact of Jonah’s revelation descended like a storm howling through my head. Last night I thought I knew what to do. This morning, I didn’t know where I was and didn’t trust myself to be strong enough for anyone. The band, Jonah, or even myself.

My only certainty was if I didn’t continue the tour while I tried to figure things out, the legal hammer would fall for breaking my contract, and I’d be left with no options at all.

I turned from the window. “Let’s go.”

Jonah touched my shoulder gently. “I’ll walk you out.”

He carried my bags for me to the parking lot where Jimmy waited impatiently, the heat cloying and making him even more anxious than usual.

I leaned close to Jonah. “I don’t want to say goodbye with him watching.”

“Neither do I.”

“Need one more minute, Jimmy,” I called, my voice scratchy with the echo of tears.

Jimmy checked his watch and mumbled something as Jonah set down my bags at the edge of the parking lot. We walked over to the small courtyard and I noticed he wore a light jacket even though the temperature must have been pushing 100°. He pulled a softball-sized box from the pocket and held it out to me.

“A going away present,” he said, a tremor at the edge of his voice.

I took the box and opened it. The sun glinted off glass and tears blurred my eyes. It was the perfume bottle, finished and perfect. Elegant ribbons of violet and indigo swirled around its small, squat body. The neck opened in a flat circle and the stopper was a beautiful, clear marble. I held it up, letting the sun shine through the empty interior.

Not empty, I thought. It holds Jonah’s breath.

Afraid I would drop it, I put the bottle back in its box and held it tightly to me. I looked up at him. “I’m afraid,” I whispered. “I’m afraid if I go, I’m failing myself. If I stay, I fail the band. And you. You said hanging around hospitals wasn’t your ex-girlfriend’s thing. It’s not mine either. I’m so scared I’ll fail you if I stay.”