Prologue 3

PROLOGUE 3

Present day

Noa Hayles

“That’s not what I feckin’ said, lad!” T laughed and grabbed his water bottle from the nearest amp.

I grinned, completely out of breath, and lifted my tee to wipe sweat off my face. “Sure sounded like it!” Fuck, I was spent. We had two more songs to rehearse, and I could only hope I didn’t go through the last of my drumsticks. I’d stupidly brought the wrong bag, where I had a bunch of thin 5A sticks that I never used—for a damn reason.

Barry was about to say something, no doubt to get on T’s case—’cause that was fun—but we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Someone could clearly not read, considering the massive “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door.

T was closest, so he went over and opened the door. “Aye?” He opened it wider, and I did a double take.

What the jizzy fuck? It was Santiago! And Gael!

“Hi!” I lit up, surprised and confused as hell, but always happy to see them. “Why are you here, how did you find me, and…” I trailed off when I registered the somber look on Santiago’s face. Paired with Gael’s expression of worry. Before I even knew it, I shot right up, my stomach tightening. “What’s wrong?”

Santiago took a step forward and nodded subtly for me to follow. “You need to come with us, Noa.”

No.

I swallowed hard as a handful of worst-case scenarios ran through my head and filled me with dread. Daddy had been in another accident, Mom had overdosed, something was very wrong with Lucian, Cam—oh God, Cameron. Nothing could be wrong with any of them!

My ears started ringing, and I vaguely registered T asking if I “knew them,” as in Santiago and Gael, and Barry wondered if I needed anything. Um, yeah, some fucking answers. And reassurances. Everyone was okay, right?

“Can you fucking tell me what’s happened?” I asked and snatched up my tee and hoodie.

“It’s Lucian—he’s in the hospital,” Santiago replied.

No, no, no, no, no!

The ringing in my ears morphed into a low, rushing noise that drowned out a flurry of responses from my bandmates. But I got the gist. Hell, just go, lad. Keep us posted. I didn’t recall making a single move, but then I was out in the corridor that was lined with sticker-littered doors to other rehearsal rooms.

Uncle Lucian is fine!

Santiago put a hand on my back, and I flinched sideways and quickly put on my T-shirt and hoodie. No fucking sympathy, thanks. Lucian was okay. He’d promised me.

“He promised me he was okay,” I heard myself whisper.

Just yesterday, and a few days before—he’d assured me he was okay and that Cameron and KC were overreacting. So, what was it? Why was he in the hospital? He was taking his blood pressure medicine, wasn’t he?

“What happened?” My voice came out dull and flat, and I couldn’t come to grips with what I was feeling. Like…I felt kind of numb and empty? The dread lurked in the background—or, rather, in the pit of my stomach. But I always said that the strongest emotions bubbled up in your throat, ’cause they were so forceful, you either had to laugh or cry or choke or gasp or… Whatever. I had no emotions in my throat, so Lucian was fine. I could still hear his chuckle against my neck after I’d snuck him a tasty lunch to his office. We really liked to have lunch together.

It’d become our thing.

“I may be known as the Master who’s not overly fond of brats, but my God, I need a dose of you every day, sweet pup. You give me energy.”

I glanced up at Santiago, waiting for him to respond, and he gave me this confused look—as if he was expecting me to say something.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” The concern in his eyes irritated me so much! I didn’t want his concern—I wanted Uncle Lucian to be all right!

Gael grasped my arm gently, and I flicked him a glance. “Dean, KC, and Cam went with Lucian to the hospital—they called 9-1-1 because he had chest pains.”

I stiffened, unable to process those words. All while…my body reacted. Santiago picked up the pace, and so did I. I had to get there. I had to be with them. I had to see Lucian with my own eyes. Chest pains? He was too young for that bullshit! He hadn’t even turned forty-five!

Oh my God, what if he was dead? He could be dead right now.

Emotions rushed upward, and I had to swallow repeatedly. I shook my head as we jogged down the concrete stairs toward the exit. What if he was dead? What if he was one of those unlucky bastards who suffered a heart attack in their forties and didn’t make it?

Panic tinted the edges of my senses, my breathing turned shallow, and I began running. I pushed the heavy door open, and I scanned the dark, half-empty parking lot for Santiago’s truck. I remembered it. I’d been inside it. My breaths misted in the air that was cold and heavy with rain that hadn’t fallen, and then Santiago gestured at—there. I ran for the truck, and Santiago and Gael thankfully sped up too.

Chest pains.

Oh God.

I’d snuck him so much bad food these past few months. We’d practically turned it into a game—and it’d started weeks before he’d found out he had high blood pressure. KC and Cameron had wanted him to make dietary changes, but…Lucian had fucking promised! He’d told me everyone was overreacting!

I sucked in a ragged breath, my eyes welled up rapidly, and my hands prickled uncomfortably. My chest felt tight too. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. Fucking hell, hurry, Santiago! I realized they were talking. Santiago and Gael—they were speaking, but I couldn’t for the life of me decipher the words. The worry and the urgency were clear on their faces, though. Which said it all. Maybe it was best I didn’t hear them. Instead, I jumped into the truck, in the back, and Gael opted to sit back here too.

Seconds later, Santiago tore out of the parking lot, and I slipped my hands under my legs to keep from fidgeting.

Gael reached over and put on my seat belt.

Deep breaths.

He’s fine. Or he’s going to be.

He promised.

“Everything will be perfect once work slows down, baby boy. And in the meantime, what do you think is better for my health—broccoli and plain chicken in between life-sucking meetings, or…you stopping by to cheer me up with pizza?”

I bit down on my lip to prevent pathetic whimpers from breaking free, and I stared unseeingly out the window as we left Fairfax behind.

It’d become my goal to make Uncle Lucian smile really big during his lunch hour. Work was just…too much for him—he was tired and stressed out. And, according to Daddy, Lucian had been slowing things down the past year. So I couldn’t imagine what his schedule had looked like before Cameron and I had made honest men of Daddy and Uncle Lucian. So to speak. I mean, technically, marriage had been discussed, so that counted. Lucian wanted to propose to Cameron. And that was one of the ways I’d made him smile! Shortly before Christmas, I’d brought over fried chicken sandwiches and a catalogue of rings and stuff.

Uncle Lucian appreciated a good catalogue.

“Do you think he will say yes?”

I sniffled and hurriedly wiped at my cheeks.

“We’ll be there soon, Noa.” Gael tried to comfort me.

And what if we got to the hospital and Lucian was dead?

I’d break.

Our lives were supposed to be perfect. They’d been perfect, for me, anyway, since last year when the four of us had become a family. We were talking stars aligning and all that crap. I was finally with my KC, Cameron was finally with his Lucian, and together…we were everything. And more than that, we had our fuck-awesome kink community. We had plans almost every weekend! I got to see my kink friends, Gael among them, and…yeah, life was great.

Tonight was supposed to be just another wonderful night. I had band practice, and then I was gonna Uber it home and hopefully make it in time to have dessert with the others, ’cause Master Dean, Santiago, and Gael had been invited to dinner.

I could only think of one thing that was supposed to worry me right now, and that was finally coming clean to my mom.

In my defense, it hadn’t been my fault that it’d taken so long. At first, yeah, because I’d convinced KC to wait till we’d officially moved in together. Because let’s face it, nobody wanted to have that discussion. Oh hey, Mom, just so you know, I’m dating your ex-husband…you know, the man who was kind of my dad for twelve years… Yeah, we’re living together with Cameron and Lucian.

I scratched the side of my head and caught Santiago staring at me in the rearview. A beat later, he inserted one of his earbuds and hauled out his phone to make a call.

You have to be okay, Uncle Lucian!

This time, I couldn’t stop the whimper. Fear shot through me, and grief and worry and…

He had to be okay!

I blinked hard and wiped angrily at the tears falling down.

“Remember, boy. Once you’ve told your mother, we’re going straight to the car dealership.”

I sniffled again and shook my head. I didn’t fucking want a car. Lucian had given Cameron a new ride last year—and that made more sense because Cameron was always running errands. I preferred to be picked up and spend more time with whoever drove me. I didn’t care if it was Lucian, Daddy, or Cameron. I always wanted those extra minutes with them. Sometimes, we took detours to buy something on the way home. Sometimes, we stopped by House Mclean. Sometimes, we went for a drive just for the sake of it.

Daddy had tried to offer me a new car for months, thinking I’d somehow be persuaded to tell Mom sooner.

If anything, it’d made me wanna stall further.

I’d caved shortly before the holidays and promised to tell her “next weekend,” and then…well, my mom was gonna be my mom. She’d fallen off the wagon. Cameron and I had come over with groceries, only to find her drunk on the floor of her kitchen, where she’d been searching through the trash for what she claimed was a “winning ticket.”

Usually, it was one or the other. Booze, painkillers, or gambling. Not this time.

I scrubbed my hands over my face as a heavy blanket of exhaustion fell over me.

I wouldn’t be able to cope if something happened to Lucian.

We’d all suffered enough, goddammit.

“Is he answering, Daddy?” Gael asked.

“Nothing so far, chiquito,” Santiago responded. “I’ll try again.”

Maybe he was trying to get in touch with KC. Or Master Dean.

“Chest pains—what does that even mean?” I blurted out. “Do you know if he actually had a heart attack, or…?”

Santiago shook his head grimly. “The ambulance hadn’t arrived yet when Gael and I left to pick you up.”

Just great.

I felt my bottom lip quiver, and my eyes welled up all over again.

“KC said he’d call when he knew where we were supposed to go,” Santiago added.

I instinctively dug out my phone to see if I had any messages, but there were none.