Page 54 of Strike A Chord

“Great question and one I unfortunately don’t have the answer to—yet. There’s no father’s name on your original birth certificate that’s filed. I’m not sure how you ever got a passport with the one he had falsified. I could make assumptions, guesses, though that’s all they’d be on how you wound up with him, but I’d rather not.”

“I don’t have a passport. I only worked the Maiden US shows.”

“That explains a lot, but you’ll have to change that. We need to involve Easton on this, or your passport could be an issue and you’re gonna need one. There’s no way Chaotic Abyss won’t be on a worldwide tour soon. Your following is insane, and yes, I stalk your social media, too. Fans around the globe are shouting out asking for you to head their way.”

“Well, at least the fucker’s dead, which explains why he’s never shown up and demanded money from me.” I looked at the date, he died a few years after I left home. “Probably got killed by someone he owed money to.”

“I haven’t found any conclusive evidence, but I also don’t know who paid for his burial. Unclaimed bodies usually get cremated and disposed of yet here he is. Back to the passport thing. I haven’t shared any of this, it’s not my story to tell, but I did ask Stoli in a roundabout way for a lawyer to handle paperwork. He said Easton handles everything for the bands, or at the very least gets you with the right people. Knowing how long the government takes with passports, I think you need to reach out to him and let him work his magic.”

“I can’t believe you did all this for me.” It was overwhelming to say the least and while it closed one door to the past, it opened another. Who was my real father and why hadn’t he come for me? Likely a one-time John, a fix for my drug-addicted mother who never even knew I existed. She probably assumed leaving me at the hospital was a safe place, only it turned out to be the furthest from that. Money talked and likely the asshole I lived with either paid someone off to get a kid so he could get all the government had to offer assistance wise for having one, or he just flat out stole the first one he could get his hands on.

“Here,” Reagan reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I ordered a copy of your real birth certificate.” My hands shook as I took it but right now, I didn’t have the balls to look at it and slid it into my back pocket. Reagan nodded in understanding. I appreciated that as I’d lost my words. “Your mother died shortly after you were born, overdose. Her body was unclaimed, so she was cremated, no proper burial.” When I didn’t respond, Reagan wrapped his arm around my waist. “Come on, let’s get lunch and find a nice hotel to spoil Mom with.”

The money in our shared checking account was for the house renovations and any future repairs. Reagan had taken out a home equity loan for the remodel and we had to start making payments on it next month. But I wanted to do something special for Mom, a way to say thanks for not only trusting me, but welcoming me in. She was wonderful and warm, always ready with a hug and a kind word, and I basked in it.

“Hey, why don’t you let me pay for this?”

“What? Why?”

“You and Mom have done so much for me, and I’d like to do something nice in return.”

“Child,” Reagan struck a full-on attitude pose I’d never seen from him before. “How many times do I have to tell you we love you?”

“Diva Reagan has arrived!” I laughed so hard I nearly fell over. We’d just been seated at the restaurant and every eye in the house was on us. “Okay, queen, take a seat.” He huffed but sat. “I didn’t mean it like that, but I have the money and I’d like to pay for it. It will still be from both of us.” Reagan opened his mouth to speak just as my phone rang. “Hold that thought.” It was rare that Jason called me, we mostly texted. “Jase, what’s up?”

“Hey, man, hope I’m not interrupting but I’ve got some news. Big news.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Shits about to get crazy. Masterson just announced a huge show at the Tacoma Dome next Saturday. Tickets went on sale this morning and it’s nearly sold out. All four bands are playing that night with us opening.”

“What the fuck?”

“You heard me right. Huge night for us. Huge. Did I say huge?” Jason’s nerves were on high. “We’ve got this. Right?”

“We do. Little surprised Masterson is pulling this off. Did they say why?”

“Nope, just that the other shows this week are still on and that they’ll send a car to pick us up on Saturday around noon.”

“Holy shit.”

“Exactly. All right, need to call Marley. Saved the excitable puppy for last.”

“Ha-ha, later.”

“Is everything okay?” Reagan asked as I hung up.

“Well, that depends. Looks like Masterson is set to launch us into the oblivion. They booked a last-minute show with all four bands at the Tacoma Dome on Saturday. I’d expect it to be dead considering that’s less than a week away, but Jason said the tickets are nearly sold out.” Damn, that means they’d blasted it across the social media air waves.

“Holy crap.”

“My thought exactly. Any chance you can get Saturday off?”

“I’ll make it happen. This is a big night, no way I’m not gonna be there for you.”

On the way home, we stopped at a swanky hotel and booked Mom a room for a week. The hotel manager even threw in a massage and free meal for her. As expected, she protested but in the end, we won and she packed her bags for a week of well-earned R&R. Though Reagan and I both knew she’d still log on and work.

The two shows we had went off without a hitch and were standing room only. Damn, it felt good to see fans in the crowd wearing our shirts. Diamond hooked me up with Mash, I wanted to get our logo added to my body art like Jason, Marley, and Nigel already had. The winged guitar was badass and as the band’s lead guitarist, it was only fitting that I proudly display it.

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