Page 60 of For Eva

Eight, nine, ten…

“You can’t save her, honey. No one can save her.”

You’re not going to die on me, Eric. You’re not going to die on me, too.

Breaths, compressions, breaths, compressions.

“Everyone out of the way. Move!”

Elbows hooked under my arms and lifted me to my feet. I steadied myself and pushed my hair out of my face to see a man in a dark blue uniform had taken my place beside Eric. He checked Eric’s breath and pulse.

“Everybody back up, now!” he instructed as he took over the chest compressions.

We did as we were told while another man dressed in the same uniform kneeled, placing an orange box on the ground. “Did he take anything? Drugs of any kind?”

My gaze flickered among the band and crew, whose eyes were wide and lips were sealed tight, then to Keith, who ran his hand along his brow. “Alcohol. And coke, I think.”

The man nodded as he inserted a needle into Eric’s arm and attached a syringe to it. I steepled my hands over my mouth as the man pushed down on the top of the syringe, then moved his fingers to Eric’s neck. I remembered that morning several days ago in the hotel restaurant when Eric had told me we weren’t friends, and I’d lashed out. If only I hadn’t been so hard on him. If only I’d been more understanding. If only I’d known his mom had died.

“I have a pulse,” the paramedic announced. “We need to intubate.”

I sucked in a shaky breath, closing my eyes and pressing my palm into my chest as I let it out. I opened them to see one of the paramedics attaching a balloon to a tube extending from Eric’s mouth as they lifted him onto the stretcher two other men in the crew had carried onto the stage.

“Let’s get him out of here.”

I laced my fingers together and whispered a “thank you” into the universe.

“Eva, let’s go.”

Keith placed his hand on my shoulder, and I nodded, letting him quickly steer me backstage. He put his arm around me, whispering that I’d done good, that everything would be okay. The words floated past me, my head too heavy to absorb them.

Will and Matt followed at our heels, but Keith put his hand out to stop them. “I know you’re worried, but let Eva and I handle this right now. Too many people at the hospital wouldcreate a feeding frenzy for the press. We’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as we get there and have some information.”

Their protests became muffled as my eyes caught a spark of orange light over Will’s shoulder. I squinted to see Danny leaning against the drum riser, smoking a cigarette. He glanced up as if he felt my stare and held my gaze for a moment. I opened my mouth to call his name, but he dropped his head and turned, walking off the other side of the stage.

For a moment, I thought he’d come back. But as he disappeared from my sight, it felt like a boot landed against my stomach, bruising my insides, and stealing my breath. I gasped, placing my fingers over my mouth, and my lips trembled as Keith took my arm.

“We need to gonow, Eva.”

I stumbled as he gave me a gentle tug toward the exit, and I turned my head once more, hopeful I’d see Danny appear around the corner. But he wasn’t there, and my chest and my stomach ached so badly I wanted to curl into myself. But I couldn’t. And so, I moved forward, left to wonder why the person who was supposed to care about me more than anyone in the world had walked away just when I needed him most.

TWENTY-SIX

Danny

August 1989

My heart pounded throughout every inch of my body as I hurried down the backstage corridor.

What was I doing? What the fuck was I doing?

Thoughts raced in blurry laps around my brain, and there was no explanation for how or why my feet continued to move forward. My pace quickened as voices echoed somewhere behind me, and I jogged toward the alcove ahead and ducked inside. I pressed myself into the cinder block wall, my limbs stiff and lips sealed tightly in an attempt to quiet my breathing.

What was I hiding from? Was it Matt and Will coming to find me? How could I possibly explain to them I didn’t want to be here? That I didn’t want any part of what was happening with Eric? I fucking hated him for destroying our dream—mydream—and for ruining everything I’d worked so goddamn hard for. The early years we’d spent playing our fucking hearts out in shady clubs for ten people like it was a fucking arena. Busting our asses, passing out fliers on the Strip every night, begging booking agents to give us a chance. All that time, all that energy,fuckingwasted. Our stint on the tour was done, and as far as I was concerned, so was the band. I couldn’t go on with just Matt and Will. They were musicians, not songwriters. Partnering with Eric had taken us to the next level, and that was fucking over. Because he would wake up and go right fucking back to being Eric. Nothing would change, and I wasn’t going to put up with his bullshit anymore. Icouldn’t.

I slid down the wall, blowing out a long breath, and dropped my head into my hands as images of Eva flickered through it. The way she had looked at me. It was a look I remembered seeing in my rearview mirror when I pulled away from the curb all those years ago with my guitar, two duffel bags, and a crazy fucking dream. But this time, the look was devoid of hope. Her eyes pleaded with me on that stage to do something—anything. But I’d walked away, without hesitation, without a second thought, knowing she needed me. Knowing she was still hurt from finding out I never wanted her on the tour. Knowing she’d probably never forgive me. And knowing that was probably for the best because everything was fucking over anyway.

It had to be. Because when it came down to it, if I had to make a choice between having what I wanted, the way I wanted it, or having Eva, I’d choose me, every time.

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