Page 7 of Rescue

Hell, if I wasn’t crazy before, six months of this would be enough to get me there.

“Listen,” I say, struggling to keep my voice calm even while the panic chokes me. “Please, listen to me and try to understand.” I wait for Daltrey to nod. “I want this. I want to go on tour. I need to be doing something.” Reed looks like he’s about to argue, so I hurry on. “I love playing. It’s the thing I love the most in the world. I need it right now. Can you understand that? I need it.”

If there’s anything that might convince them, it’s an appeal to their love of the music.

“We can play together right here,” Cash points out. “We don’t need to go on the road in order to play music together.” He grins. “Hell, Daltrey has a garage at that monstrosity he calls a house in Tennessee. We can hang out there, jam all the time. It would be like the old days.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s done talking. “There would be too much down time if we hang out here. I need to bedoingsomething. I need to be busy.” I look at Reed, knowing that he, more than anyone else, will understand the need to work. “I’ve had three months to sit around and think, and it’s driving me crazy.” I clear my throat. “Well, more crazy than I was already.”

No one laughs.

“You guys, come on—”

“I don’t like it,” Daltrey says. “I think it’s a really bad idea.”

I’m starting to get pissed now. Is it too much to ask that they actually listen to me? “Well, you’re not the one making my decisions for me, Daltrey.”

“No. But I do get to make my own. And I’m not sure you’ll get very far without a lead singer.”

Apparently sensing that I’m about to blow up, my dad stands. “All right, that’s enough. Lennon, I think we should take some time and think about—”

“I don’t need to think about it!” I yell. “Ihavethought about it. The tour is the only thing I’ve been looking forward to over the last few weeks. Which, in case you’re wondering, have really sucked for me.” None of them will meet my eyes, so I plow ahead. “First I was stuck in that place, then I was stuck at Dad’s. I’mbored. I’m tired of sitting around. I want to go fuckingdosomething.” My voice is shaking by the end, I’m so frustrated. Why can’t they just get it?

“Okay,” Reed says softly, and I feel weak with relief. If my oldest brother is on board, I’m home free. The others might complain, but they’ll go along with it if Reed tells them to. “If you think going on tour will help, that’s what we’ll do.” Our eyes meet across the room, and I can see the struggle there. He’s scared, really scared. He’s looked that way ever since August. But he’s trying too. Trying to trust me, trying to have faith that things might get back to normal.

God, I don’t want to disappoint him.

“Reed,” Cash says, but Reed waves him off.

“Lennon is right. He’s the only one that has a right to decide what he’s ready for. He’s had a rough few months, and if he thinks getting out of here will make him feel better, that’s his call.” His gaze hardens as he turns back to me. “But if anything about being out there makes you feel shitty, we call it off. Immediately. You got that?”

I nod quickly, and his gaze turns to a scowl. “I mean it, Len. You have to talk to us.”

“I will.”

Daltrey looks between Reed and me. “Are you kidding me?”

“Dalt—”

“Come on, Reed! You can’t think this is a good idea.”

Though he addresses Daltrey, Reed never drops his gaze from mine. “I think I trust Lennon to make his own choices.” He looks as tired as I’ve ever seen him, as if we’ve just finished a massive tour instead of being about to start one. But the corner of his mouth tilts up just a little in a half smile. “Besides, he’s into all that art and museum crap. Europe is probably just what he needs.”

Cash laughs. “That’s true. I bet Europe has a ton of museums. It’s, like, Len’s version of Vegas.”

I don’t even try not to roll my eyes. “Yes, Cash. Europe does have a ton of museums.”

He’s laughing at me, a very welcome sound after weeks of treating me like a fragile toy. “You’re going to drag us around to half of them, aren’t you? Dear God. Hours and hours of paintings and whatever the hell else you like to look at. At least I’ll be able to get some sleep.”

The idea of taking my brothers to the Louvre or something is so ridiculous I can’t help laughing myself. Reed is grinning too. Only Daltrey looks unmoved.

“I need some air,” he mutters, standing so abruptly he knocks his chair over.

“Son—” Dad begins, but Dalt silences him with a glare.

“I’ll go along with whatever the rest of you say,” he growls, halfway to the door. “But I still think it’s a really stupid idea.”

“We have rehearsal,” Reed calls after him.