Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2) (26 page)

"Okay. I can't fix him." The verbal confirmation satisfies her, but a deep finalization and fear resonates within me. I honest to God understand there isn't anything I can do to fix Jackson, but what if I've just been a part of the high?

What else do you think you are? This isn't a damn movie. Time to let it go and walk away. He has family to help him.

"Everything okay?" Kel's voice surprises me.

"Yeah." I wipe my face.

"Is he alright?" Kel's question panics me.

He knows. What if Lucas saw what happened?

"Calm down," he soothes. "I woke up when you guys were trying to get him out the door. I checked on Lucas and Sean. They were out cold and don't know anything about it."

"Know about what?" Lucas yawns the question.

"That we are going out to breakfast!" Sid jumps up and flails her arms over her head. "So, go get your buddy up and let's hit IHOP. Aunt Sid's got a need to stuff her face with pancakes and pig."

Kel's face lights up and he rushes off to get dressed.

"Thank you." I stand and touch her shoulder.

"Don't thank me yet. You're paying." She grins. "And you better hope they have the never-ending pancake deal. Big girls like to eat."

I roll my eyes at her self-deprecation but finally smile. It's not a complete smile, though. The accepting of this loss is still too raw.

Chapter Fourteen

Liza

"So, what's the song plan for this week?" Sid asks, fiddling with the neon rainbow photography portfolio on her lap. Before I can answer, she complains, "I hate carrying this thing. Tell me again why I couldn't just bring my Surface to go through the pictures?"

"The song is chosen and I'm all ready to record it tomorrow. As for the portfolio," I adjust a corner from poking my leg, "he wasn't specific on what he wanted to see, so it's best to have them both. He may prefer physical photographs to digital." I shrug.

With a heavy sigh, she sits back in the uncomfortable bus seat.

"What song did you choose?" she asks, brushing lint away from a black tee with
Got Milk?
in bold, white lettering across her double Ds.

"
Shape of My Heart
," I respond.

"By Sting?" She studies my face.

I nod.

"I hate how sad you are." Her lips purse and brow furrows.

"I'm fine." I give a small but sincere smile.

"Mmhmm." Keeping the pursed lips, she cocks one brow, disbelievingly.

"Look, it's our stop," I announce, changing the subject.

Her attention turns once more to the portfolio she put together on my apartment floor after a trip to Kinkos and a supply store. Taking a deep breath, I do my best not to wonder how he is.

Inside the club, the space is well lit in typical rehearsal day fashion.

I look around for Red, since his usual front row table is unoccupied, and find him standing at the bar with a vaguely familiar man. Two young, middle-school-aged girls sit near them at a booth.

"Do they both have the new iPhone and the iPad Air?" Sid asks enviously.

Red looks up from his guest and does a double-take, realizing we’re standing a few feet away. He says something to the man before walking toward us, causing the visitor to look in our direction.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Red greets.

"Ladies?" Sid looks behind her and then back to him. "Well, hell, I haven't been called that in like…ever."

Red laughs, loudly.

"Liza said you were funny." He nods. "So," his face turns all business-like, "are those for me?" He motions to the portfolio and tablet in her hands.

Sid goes to respond but stops, standing with her mouth parted.

"Sid?" I ask, following her line of sight.

The semi-familiar visitor walks to Red's side. Christ, he doesn't really walk—he prowls, and it makes me think of the way Jackson moves.

The man is shorter than Jackson…though, most people are. The visitor looks a bit over six feet tall with a wide muscular build bulging beneath the thin, white t-shirt stating
Without Ballet, Life Would be Pointless
across his chest. His head is shaved except for the thick, golden blond strands at the top of his head, which reach his shoulders. Tattoos swirl the shaved area, but his loose hair makes it difficult to see the images. He looks about the same age as Red—late thirties to early forties—but the beard could be adding a couple years.

Giving her some elbow encouragement, it's enough to shake her from mute ogling.

"Uh, yeah, here." Blinking rapidly, she holds out the neon rainbow portfolio.

"Didn't they have anything more obnoxious to choose?" the visitor asks as Red takes it from her, his golden brown eyes boring into her.

Knowing Sid, I try to stop whatever unfiltered madness will spew from her lips.

"Do you have a problem with rainbows?" Her arms come over her chest.

Damn it. Not quick enough.

His eyes narrow in curiosity.

"I’m sure he doesn't—" I attempt.

"Nah," he crosses his arms, mimicking her stance, "my girls love rainbows." With a twitch of his head, he nods toward the young girls.

Sid leans sideways, looking around Tall, Tatted, and Beard, before looking back to him.

"They're a little young to be working here, don't you think? Or are you just starting them early in their career?" She tilts her head, a picture of fake innocence on her face.

The smile he wears slips from his face. Hard lines emboss the sides of his eyes.

"Those are my daughters," he growls.

"Ah…so it's just bad parenting?" she presses.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do with my kids?" He drops his arms from his broad chest. Fists clenched, he continues, "I stopped by to bring Red something and there isn't a fucking thing they can't see going on."

"Aw, Dad, you cursed," one little angel-faced girl announces. Having heard his raised voice, she looks over her tablet.

"You know what that means?" the other girl, with the same face, adds.

Twins. I smile.

"Christ," he grumbles, pulling out his wallet.

I put my hand over my face and silently pray the roof collapses and ends this verbal sparring match.

Red's laughter makes me pull my hand from my face.

"Ladies, this is Xavier Stone. We go way back." Red motions toward the golden-red-haired tatted man. The man pulling twenties out of a silver money clip and scowling at Sid.

"Xave, this is Liza and Sidra." Red motions between us.

Xavier stays focused on Sid.

"Call me Sid," she corrects, keeping her eyes on the sixty dollars Xavier pulls out.

"Are you giving them sixty dollars?" Sid brings her wide eyes to meet his scowl.

"Yeah, because
you
made me cuss." He slips the remainder of his money into his back pocket.

Out of nowhere, a little hand appears, and he places the money in it.

"Wait," Sid holds up a hand, "you mean to tell me they get sixty bucks every time you curse?"

"No," the angel-faced girl says, drawing our attention. "We get twenty for each cursing occurrence."

Sid opens her mouth, but is silenced by the identical sister's arrival.

"Each time there's an instance when Dad curses, we each get twenty, unless only one of us is around. However, if it's the F word, we get an extra ten." She gives a nod, ending her explanation.

Sid uncrosses her arms and gives Xavier an evil grin before turning her attention to the twins.

"If I can get him to say the F word more than once, do you get thirty for each time it's said?"

"Don't—" Xavier begins.

"Yes," the girls answer in unison, nodding their heads.

"If I get him to say it, will you split the money?" Sid wiggles her brows.

Both girls' eyes widen in excitement before nodding enthusiastically.

"Now, wait a damn minute," Xavier interrupts.

"Hah, you cussed. Pay up." Sid points at him, her finger only a couple inches from his chest.

"‘Damn’ doesn't count unless it's followed by something else." He smirks.

With a pout, Sid sighs, wrinkles her nose, and crosses her arms over her chest.

Xavier's eyes drop to where she's put her large chest on display.

"Nice shirt. I could go for a jug of milk."

Sid's mouth drops open. Her eyes narrow just a bit, but I swear I see the corner of her mouth twitch with humor.

"Okay, as fun as this exchange is," Red pushes between the two of them, "Sid, please take this over to that table. We'll go through it there."

She immediately turns her full attention to Red, taking the portfolio from him.

"Of course," she states, now ignoring Xavier and walking away.

"Just so we're clear," Xavier recaptures Sid's attention, "I'll have you screaming my name some day soon." Straightening to his full height, arms over his chest, feet parted, he's the picture of self-assured.

"Only in horror." She shrugs, giving a small frown before taking a seat at the table near the stage.

"I don't know what the hell that was, but can you please not piss off my possible photographer?" Red shakes his head, clapping Xavier on the shoulder.

"That, my friend, is what I call foreplay." Xavier grins at the back of Sid's head.

Taking that as my cue, I escape backstage to prepare for rehearsal.

A day after the Xavier and Sid experience and on the bus ride back from the recording studio, I start to doze against the bus window. Sleeping with Sid on the pullout bed is becoming less comfortable with each passing night. She's used to a regular bed, so her tossing and turning makes the night restless for us both. The chime of my cell interrupts my in-transit nap.

Unknown Number: You should know he's doing well and going to rehab.

A mixture of unease and comfort swirl through me. Unease from a stranger providing me information Jackson might not want me to have, and comfort knowing he has people to help him. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back to the window, feeling more relaxed than I should—especially with my next stop being the social services office to talk to my caseworker about outstanding items.

"Good morning, Miss Campbell." The receptionist is always kind and has seen a lot of me lately.

"Good morning." I prepare to sit, but my caseworker appears.

"You can come on back," she states with a smile.

The smile makes me think things with Sean and my financial situation are starting to improve. I follow her down the familiar beige hallway and into her small office. Thick folders rest on bookshelves, are stacked on tables, and clutter her desk. She picks a stack up out of the extra chair in the room.

"Please, have a seat."

Sitting, I place my bag on my lap and twist the strap.

She settles behind her desk, flips open the thick manila file folder, and rests her hands on the papers within.

"I have good news and not so good news."

Every muscle in my body tenses and I swallow the lump in my throat.

"The good news is the guardianship papers are processing." She gives a kind, reassuring smile.

I relax a little.

"It will go through the review process for a few weeks, but it didn't get an initial rejection, which is a very good thing." She nods and then sighs. "As for your housing, I'm afraid you will have about a month and a half to find a new place or you will have to pay the full lease price. Lucas will retain medical insurance until you can move him over to another plan. The food and cash benefits will cease after this month."

I exhale loudly and rub my forehead.

"There's no way I would pay the full amount for one of those places," she adds, causing me to look at her. "Don't get me wrong," she continues, "they are well kept, but they really hike up the price once it goes into a public lease."

I nod in understanding.

"I'm looking, but haven't been able to make anything really happen yet."

"Good. Do you have any questions?"

"What about Sean's benefits? Are they affected by my financial change?"

"No. He will still receive his benefits. You are simply being instated as his legal guardian to make decisions such as medical and school. He is still based on his grandmother's income. However, should she pass away, he could be placed into foster care if a more permanent arrangement isn't established for him."