“Yeah, but I don’t want to end up making you sick or something one day.”
“Rooster, I know how to look out for myself.”
“I know you do.”
Expectation stretches through the air between us. Damn, I don’t feel like talking about this now. “It’s not like a nut allergy,” I begin, picking my words carefully. “I won’t die…well, I guess I could. It’s been a while. I hate talking about it because some asshole always thinks I’m making it up or being dramatic, then tries to ‘prove’ I’m not really allergic by slipping one in my food.”
“What? That’s sick.” Shock widens his eyes. “Who the fuck does something like that?”
“Well, my grandma, for one. She was a crazy old biddy, though.” My throat itches just remembering the couple times she’d tricked me into eating something I shouldn’t. “Almost killed Hayley when she was little by feeding her peanuts too.” I adopt my grandma’s haughty Texan twang. “In my day, we didn’t coddle youngins. The kids ate what they were given and were thankful.”
“That’s fucked up.”
I shrug. “Momma refused to leave us alone with her after the incident with Hayley. She and my dad fought about it a lot. He had a hard time telling his momma ‘no’ and my momma was pretty relentless when it came to protecting her kids.”
He snorts and sort of nods.
“Anyway, Grandma Morgan died not long after. Problem solved.” Maybe I should feel worse talking about my grandmother’s death so casually, but the woman tried to kill me twice, so I can’t get too worked up about her demise.
“Still wish you’d told me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He runs his hand over his chin and down his beard. “None of my brothers would ever pull a stunt like that and if they tried, I’d fuckin’ gut ’em.”
“I trust you.” I shrug. “It hadn’t really come up yet or I would’ve mentioned it.”
One corner of his mouth hikes up. “How the heck do you avoid tomatoes in Texas with all that salsa floatin’ around?”
“It’s not easy.” I let out a yawn.
“Why don’t you get some rest.” He pats the bed. “People have been at you all day.”
Unable to stop myself, I yawn again. “I really want to get out of here.”
“Soon, hopefully.” He glances at the clock over the doorway, then leans in to kiss my forehead. “Close your eyes.”
Chapter Eighteen
Shelby
Today’s nurse is brisk and businesslike. “All right, Ms. Morgan, are you ready to go home?”
Thank you, Lord! “Home or back on the road?”
“Wherever you want.” She flashes a quick smile. “But you can’t stay here.”
Aren’t you hilarious.
Bless my boyfriend’s kind heart and never-ending patience. He was here again first thing this morning waiting for my eyes to pop open. “Is the doctor going to stop by and see her before she leaves?” he asks from his perch on the chair next to my bed.
“Uh, sure, I can let her know you want to talk to her first.”
She pivots and leaves my room.
“I don’t need to talk to the doctor,” I protest.
Rooster shrugs. “The other day, they were all ‘you need to rest, your body’s been through a lot.’ Now they’re saying, ‘get out.’ Doesn’t hurt to ask a few questions.”
I stretch and take a cautious inventory of my aches and pains. “I feel better. Still a little fuzzy in the head, but overall, better.”
He curls his fingers around mine and squeezes gently. “Good.”
My mother bustles through the door with a paper cup of coffee in each hand. Without a word, she hands one to Rooster. Thank the Lord, she seems to have accepted Rooster’s here for good. Or rather, she’s placed the you-should-be-single campaign on hold.
“I ran into the doctor and she said you’re being discharged.” She sips her coffee and sets it on the table next to my bed.
“So I hear.”
“That’s good.” She casts a disgusted look around the spanky-clean room. “Hospitals are full of germs. We don’t need you catching something while you’re here.”
“So cheerful, Mom.”
Rooster chuckles. “She has a point. Even Heidi said it’s best to get you out as soon as possible so you don’t catch some superbug.”
I slowly turn my head and bare my teeth at him. Gettin’ along with my mother is one thing; ganging up on me is another.
As if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he pats my leg in a reassuring way. “Just worried about you,” he says quietly.
“I need to get home, baby. But I don’t want to leave while you’re still in here,” my mother adds. “Greg said they secured a rehearsal space at the hotel. I’d love to see y’all run through a few songs before I go.”
I blink and stare, trying to work out my feelings about singing right now. It feels about as familiar as climbing on a spaceship and being flung at the moon.
“Let’s worry about getting her checked out and set up somewhere comfortable first,” Rooster says.
Momma shoots a glare at him but wisely keeps her mouth shut.
My eyes prickle. I know she loves me and means well, but Momma’s always been a show-must-go-on-no-matter-what kinda person. Rooster’s purely concerned about what’s best for me, no matter what. It strikes me for the first time—he’s the only one who has no vested interest in my singing career. Sure, there’s a one-in-a-million chance I’ll hit it Dawson Roads big and be rolling in hundred-dollar bills one day, but that’s a long shot. For better or worse, Momma’s pinned her hopes on me becoming a super-star or at the very least earning enough to be comfortable. Greg only makes money if I do. Same for Trent.
Whatever Rooster does for the club provides him with enough income that he’s not banking on my career.
It’s a weird slap-in-the-face sort of revelation while I’m sitting in a hospital bed after being kidnapped and almost killed, listening to my momma talk about me getting back out on stage right away.
Not that she doesn’t love me—I know she does—but the nagging sensation that I just stumbled upon something profound won’t leave.
“You all right, honey?” my mother asks.
“Tired.”
“Another reason you need to get out of here. Hospitals suck all the life outta ya.”
“Probably.” I yawn and stretch again.
Someone knocks on the door and slowly pushes it open. Trinity peers inside. “Mind if we come in?”
“No, please do.” I wave my hand at her.
Trinity pushes the door wider and joins us, Heidi following. “We weren’t sure what you had access to, so we stopped and got you a few things in case you get discharged soon.” Trinity sets a large blue and pink travel cosmetic bag on my lap.
“Oh, wow. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well…” Trinity winks at Rooster. “We figured he wouldn’t know all the right girly stuff to get.”