Page 5 of Rescue

I nod, gesturing at the door. “After you.”

Before she can reach for the handle, the sound of a suddenly raised voice reaches us from within the room. Daisy rolls her eyes. “Reed?”

“Cash,” I say. “Definitely Cash.” Another shout, this one loud enough I can make out individual words—something about shutting the hell up. “Thatwas Reed.”

“You boys,” she mutters, pulling on the handle. As the door swings into the room, I can hear Cash’s response.

“He’s clearly not ready—” Cash cuts off abruptly when he sees me standing in the doorway next to Daisy. Every head in the room swivels in our direction. I don’t miss the shot of relief that passes across each face. The basket case is here safe.

“What’s up?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe. No one responds. It’s pretty obvious from the red faces and suddenly clenched jaws that their raised voices were about me.

“You’re late,” my dad finally says, causing Cash and Daltrey to glare at him. Reed’s jaw tightens even more, and he turns away from Dad. While everyone else has been regarding our father with open hostility since my hospital stay, Reed’s rage seems beyond words. I don’t think he’s said more than a dozen non-business related words to him since I got out.

“Sorry,” I say, causing Cash to shoot my dad another glare. This is another thing I’ve noticed about my post-mental-institution life—as far as Cash is concerned, no one is allowed to criticize me. It would be kind of sweet if it didn’t make me feel so much like a fucking child.

“Good luck,” Daisy mutters, patting my back.

“You’re not coming in?”

She edges back into the hallway, shaking her head. “No way, dude. You’d have to becrazyto want to hang out in there.” She makes a face at me, and I laugh.

“Traitor.”

My dad clears his throat behind me, and I suppress a groan, turning away as Daisy shuts the door behind me. “We were just going over the schedule,” Dad says as I take the empty chair next to Levi, my best friend and our newly promoted tour manager. “The booking manager has been working with our new parameters—”

I audibly groan at the words. New parameters. Translation: Lennon is too fucked up to do the tour as planned so we have to downsize to make it more manageable for his fragile little head.

“Don’t start,” Reed growls. “New parameters are not up for discussion.”

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I have any input,” I say, trying to ignore the glance Cash shoots me.

“Son,” my father says, rubbing his forehead. “We’ve talked about this. There’s no reason to overdo it—”

“Tour sponsors,” I say, holding up a finger with each point. “The label. Our fans. Album sales overseas. Ticket sale momentum for the second leg next year.” I wave my hand. “Five reasons to stick to the original plan right there, just off the top of my head.”

“And not a single one worth risking your health for,” he shoots back.

“I’m fine—”

Daltrey grunts, and I turn to face him, realizing that he’s the only one who hasn’t looked at me since I sat down. Even now his eyes are glued firmly to the floor. “You want to say something, Dalt?” He shakes his head, but I can tell from the change in the set of his shoulders that he’s pissed. “Really? ’Cause that sure as shit sounded like you were objecting to my assessment that I’m fine.”

“Of course you’re fine,” Cash says quickly, turning his glare from our father to Daltrey. “We all know that.”

Yeah. Right. There’s not a person in this room who thinks I’m okay. Daisy left, after all.

“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” my dad asks, picking up a piece of paper from the desk and waving it. “Revised schedule.”

“Yeah, just completely ignore my objections to the need for a revised schedule. Perfect.”

Dad sets down the paper and once again rubs his forehead. He looks exhausted, and I feel a pang of guilt. I did that. The worry and stress of my situation hasn’t been easy on him. And though he would never admit it, the hostility from my brothers is painful.Allof that is on me.

“Listen,” Reed says, turning in his chair so he’s facing me fully. “No one in here is interested in participating in a tour that runs us ragged. The fact that all of your doctors are advising you to take it easy matters to us, Lennon, even if you seem to want to ignore their advice.”

Now Cash is glaring at Reed, and I’m suddenly overcome with a pang of hysteria. I actually have to slap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. It’s just soridiculous. Everyone in the room tiptoeing around my issues, terrified of offending me or setting me off. Reed ignoring Dad. Daltrey just looking for an excuse to blow up. And Cash glaring at everyone who dares raise their voice to me like some kind of overgrown baby nanny in a leather jacket. If it wasn’t all such a mess it would be hilarious.

Levi grinds his heel into my toes, once again demonstrating his uncanny ability to know exactly what I’m feeling at any given moment. “Cool out, man,” he mutters under his breath.

I nod, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on Reed, who’s still droning on about doctor’s advice and the need for all of us— “Allof us, Lennon”—to take it easy on this tour.