Page 58 of For Eva

“Did Eric refuse to pay for his mother’s lifesaving chemotherapy? Is that why she died?”

Her words pierced me from behind, but I kept going until I turned the corner and was out of her sight. No wonder Eric had gotten so out of control after I’d given him that fax. His mother haddied. Even if he didn’t have a relationship with her, it still had to be painful. But had he denied her money for treatment? He wouldn’t do that…would he? My brain was a muddy river, thoughts trying to swim their way through it to some sort of clarity. I let my body sink into the wall and buried my head in my hands as I fought my way through the murkiness, trying to figure out what the fuck to do.

TWENTY-FOUR

Danny

August 1989

“Ithink we’re gonna have to call it,” Keith said, walking over to the makeshift bar backstage. He filled a tumbler halfway with Jack Daniels, throwing it back in one swallow.

I looked at my watch for the twentieth time in the last ten minutes. Seven fifty-five p.m. Eva sat on the leather couch, rubbing her hand along her forehead. Matt stood by her, plucking an occasional note on his bass, and Will leaned against the wall, staring off into space while spinning a drumstick through his fingers. Silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the sound of the drumstick slipping from his hand and hitting the floor.

Will sighed as he scrambled to pick it up. “I agree. Eric didn’t show up for sound check, and he hasn’t done any warm-ups. Even if he does somehow magically appear, he’s gonna sound like shit.”

I kicked the coffee table in front of me, sending it screeching across the floor. “I fuckinghatedoing this to fans! Especially at the eleventh fucking hour.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s bullshit, man.”

Eva looked up, studying Keith’s face. “What should I do?”

“Make an announcement,” Keith said. “Tell them Eric’s voice went out while he was warming up. And let the Hott Blood camp know. Maybe they can go on earlier.” He paused and slammed his hand on the table. “Goddamnit.”

I glanced at Eva, who bit her lip and looked back at me with dull eyes. We’d barely spoken since our fight. I’d given up trying to explain myself. Everything that came out of my mouth was a lie, anyway. And now, on top of my personal life being in the shitter, the band was in serious fucking trouble.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Eric exclaimed as he burst into the room in his leathers and a sleeveless Harley-Davidson T-shirt like he’d been down the hall doing warm-ups rather than MIA for the last eight hours.

What the fuck.

I stormed across the room and pushed him against the door, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. His eyes widened, his pupils two large dark orbs. Beads of sweat lined his brow and upper lip. “You motherfucker!”

Will darted across the room and pulled me off him as Eric adjusted his shirt.

“Jesus, Danny. Calm the fuck down.” He laughed as he bounced up to the bar and took a swig directly from the bottle of Jack, his eyes flickering around the room. “Why is everyone so fucking sober? Who fucking died?”

I scowled at him, my chest heaving beneath my shirt.

Eva flinched, then stood and cleared her throat. “It’s five after. Are we going on?”

“I’m here, man!” Eric took another long swallow from the bottle. “Let’s fucking do it!”

I sighed and shook my head. He was high as a fucking kite. But I supposed that was better than drunk and unable to standup straight, so I swiped my cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table and nodded at Matt and Will. “All right, let’s go.”

We filed out of the room and headed down the hallway to the stage while “Crazy Train” played over the PA. The crew cut the house lights, and the crowd erupted as darkness fell across the venue.

As my tech hooked the wireless amp system to my guitar strap, I narrowed my eyes at Eric. “Don’t forget there’s a set list taped to the stage. Fucking follow it.”

Eric snorted. “I’m the fucking front man, Danny.Youfollowme.”

I squeezed my hands into fists as I stomped onto the stage, which was hidden from the audience by a billowing black curtain. Will followed, hopping onto the drum riser, and Matt took his place stage right. The curtain dropped and beams of lights attacked the stage as I played the first notes of the opening song, and Eric bounded out to the roar of the crowd. Will and Matt joined in on drums and bass as Eric grabbed the mic stand and began to belt out the lyrics.

They were the right ones. And he soundedgood, giving it his all for the first time in a fucking month. A wave of relief washed over me, and I relaxed into the music. We sailed through the next several numbers, and by the end of the fourth song, I was confident we were going to make it to the end of the show without incident.

Eric headed to the drum riser to towel off and take a swig of Jack. He stumbled, his long hair falling over his face as he regained his footing and placed his hands on his knees. I held my breath until he popped back up and strode over to the microphone stand.

“Denver! How you all doing out there?” he screamed into the mic, and the audience erupted once again.

“All right,” he said, working to catch his breath as he grabbed the mic off the stand. “So we’ve got some more songs for you all, but I just wanted to take a minute to thank Hott Blood for have…for having…”

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