Page 90 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“Promise,” Holt and I said in unison.

24

HOLT

Luna’s tiny face contorted with pain as the nurse adjusted her IV line. Her skin had taken on a grayish hue beneath the fever flush, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. This round of chemo hit her harder than the first. While I’d expected it to be rough, watching her little body fight against the medication meant to save her tore me apart in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

For hours, I watched the chemicals drip into her veins, silently praying they would kill the cancer cells without destroying her spirit. Each time she clutched her stomach, I wanted to rip the lines out and take her and Keltie somewhere far away from the pain and anguish they were facing. Nothing in my life—not my father’s abuse, not the trust’s manipulation, not even losing my shot with CB Rice—had prepared me for the helplessness of watching someone I loved suffer while I could do nothing to stop it.

Keltie hadn’t left Luna’s side since the treatment began, her own face etched with exhaustion and worry. Victor stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, the same anguish I felt mirrored on his face.

The hospital room seemed too small, too sterile, the beeping machines a constant reminder of what was at stake.

I rested my hand on Keltie’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” The dark circles under her eyes told a different story, but I knew better than to push.

Luna’s whimper broke the silence, and Keltie stroked her daughter’s forehead. Her tenderness made my chest ache.

“It hurts, Mommy,” Luna whispered, her eyes fluttering open, their usual brightness dimmed.

“I know, baby,” Keltie murmured, her voice steady despite the fear I knew was churning inside her. “The medicine is working, but sometimes, it makes you feel worse before you feel better. Remember how the doctors talked about that?”

“Yes.” Luna’s small hand clutched Bunny against her chest. The stuffed animal looked almost as worn as she did.

“Remember what happened with Sparkles,” I said, kneeling beside her so we were at eye level. The hospital bed made her look even smaller, more vulnerable. “And remember what happened next in the story?”

Luna’s lips curved in a small smile despite her discomfort. Faint as it was, it felt like a victory. “Shimmer brought her special berries that made her feel stronger.”

“That’s right,” I said, relieved to see that spark of imagination still alive in her eyes. I reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin felt hot beneath my fingers.

Luna’s eyelids drooped. “Will you finish the story later?”

“I promise, Unicorn Girl.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I stepped away from the bed to check it. Ben’s name flashed on the screen with a text that made my blood run cold.

At hospital with Remi. He wants to talk with Keltie before agreeing to test. Where are you?

My jaw clenched. Of course that asshole would have conditions. Even to potentially save the life of his own child, he couldn’t do the right thing.

I glanced at Keltie, who had climbed onto the bed to hold Luna as another wave of nausea hit. Her focus was entirely on comforting her daughter, whispering reassurances as Luna trembled. There was no way I’d tell her Remi was here now. She needed to focus on her daughter, who was struggling enough already. And truthfully, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from dragging Remi out by his designer collar if he upset Keltie while Luna was this sick.

“I’m going to step out and look for Dr. Patel,” I said, steeling the anger in my voice.

Keltie nodded without looking up. Victor caught my eye from across the room, his gaze sharp and questioning. The older man had an uncanny ability to sense when something was off. I gave a slight shake of my head, hoping he’d understand now wasn’t the time.

“I won’t be long,” I promised.

In the hallway, I texted Ben to say I was on my way down, then headed toward the elevator. My mind raced through what to say to Remi. I’d never liked the guy from the moment I joined the band, but now, knowing what he’d done to Keltie—abandoning her when she was pregnant, calling her a liar—the thought of facing him made my blood boil.

As the manager, he usually stayed behind the scenes, but when he did appear, his arrogance filled the room. He’d been dismissive toward me until the moment Ben announced I was joining the band. Then his attitude had shifted to surface-level friendliness that never reached his eyes.

When the elevator doors slid open, Ben and Remi stood several feet away. The contrast between them struck me immediately—Ben’s concerned expression versus Remi’s irritated scowl, as if being asked to help save a child’s life was an inconvenience to his busy schedule. Ben had thrown on jeans and a flannel shirt, looking rushed but composed. Remi wore designer clothes and sunglasses pushed up on his head, his entire appearance screaming self-importance.

“Holt,” Ben said, stepping forward to shake my hand, his grip firm and grounding. His eyes held genuine concern. “How’s Luna?”

“Not great,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “This round is hitting her hard. She’s really sick. The nausea’s been terrible, and her fever keeps spiking.”

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