Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(81)

What if it didn’t get better?

He pressed his forehead to the shower tiles. The sound of the glass door opening and closing made him jump.

Margo’s arms came around his belly and her cheek pressed against his back.

“I thought there was no naked on the bus,” he whispered.

“Shh.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that. The water ran from hot to cool and his head felt like an overcooked lobster.

She didn’t say another word, just climbed out and left him alone. He finally turned off the taps and climbed out. Surprisingly, he felt steadier and was afraid to examine that too closely.

When he dried off and came out of the bathroom, Lila was there on the couch with a strange man. He was wearing a polo shirt and shorts and reminded him of a TV dad.

He didn’t look at all happy to be there.

That made them even, because he wasn’t at all happy to have him there.

Simon sawed his thumbs through the sides of his favorite torn t-shirt. The familiar softness and age of the cotton weirdly felt like a coat of armor.

The dad-doc stood. “Hello Mr. Kagan, I’m Dr. West.”

Simon opened his mouth and the doctor waved him off.

“Let’s take a look in there before you talk. See how much damage you did.”

He sighed and clenched his jaw. He looked around the bus, but Margo was gone. He glanced at Lila and she sat across from him on the edge of the couch with her hands folded.

With no other choice but to sit down, he let the doctor lead him to the small table where they ate breakfast. It had the most light.

“I’m going to just do a visual exam to start and see where we are, all right?”

Simon shrugged.

Dr. West set a bag on the table and pulled out a thin, bendy tool with a light at the end and something that looked like a dentist’s mirror.

“Now relax. I know you want to cough. I can see how irritated your throat is already. I’m not going to go all the way down with the guide, just shine a light into your vocal chords.”

Simon hid his hands under the table and fisted them on his lap as he opened his mouth. The guy mumbled a few things into his cell phone and then wrote down a few other things.

He put the instruments into a plastic bag and tucked them all back into his case. “Not awful. You’re young and fit and you don’t smoke, right?”

Simon shook his head. That had never been one of his vices.

“You’ve strained your chords and the tissues are definitely engorged. You need full vocal rest for a minimum of three days. I’d be more comfortable with two weeks to be honest, but I know you’re on tour.”

Lila leaned forward. “What are we talking here, Doctor?”

“I’ll need to do a more thorough exam, but you mentioned you’re heading to California, so I’ll give you some names of specialists there.”

“Thank you.” She stood and put her hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Three days?”

“Yes. No talking, no singing, obviously no shouting.”

Simon’s shoulders tensed. They only had two days off. The third day was The Greek in Berkley. It was in their backyard, goddammit.

“The ginger tea is good to keep the irritation down so you don’t cough, but it also can numb it so you think you can push harder than you should. That’s why they’re so inflamed.” The doctor held up his two forefingers and moved them close together, but not quite touching. “When you sing, they move closer together to make the individual sounds you need. Yours are so big that they’re vibrating against each other and making little inflammation pockets. Could be nodes or cysts forming. I won’t know without a full exam.”

Simon tipped back his head. Those were words he didn’t want to hear. He’d seen them when he’d gone online.

“Does that mean he’s a surgical candidate?”

Evidently, Lila had gone onto the same scary sites.

“I’m not sure it’s that far, but again, this is just a visual. He’s too swollen right now to get a good read on it. I need them to shrink down a bit.”

“Okay. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s late.”

“I’d rather come out late than find out he had a hemorrhage.” He shook Lila’s hand then turned back to Simon. “No talking. Use your phone or a whiteboard to communicate, all right?”

Simon put his hand out for a shake and nodded. As soon as the doctor left the bus he dropped his forehead to the table with two bounces for good measure.

When he raised his head, the front of the bus was full of the band. Jazz was cradling her stomach as she did nearly all the time now, her other arm wrapped around Gray’s bicep. Harper stood with Deacon behind her, hands on her shoulders, but it was Nick that had on the blank mask. Everyone else just looked worried.

Margo peeked from the stairs, her teeth buried in her lower lip.

“Well, I guess this means I don’t have to call a band meeting,” Lila said, all business as usual. If he didn’t look too closely at the lines of tension shadowing her eyes.

Simon raked his fingers through his hair and stared at the ceiling.

“How bad is it?” Nick asked.

“Not that bad. Simon needs three days of vocal rest and then we’ll see what’s what. He’s just strained it, so you’ll have to take the interviews, Nicholas, and—”