Page 33 of Bulletproof
Derek came flying down the corridor, eyes wild and hair flying behind him, and stopped in front of Travis. “Are you alright? What the fuck happened?” Derek didn’t wait for an answer. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and his brow furrowed with an angry crease. He lunged at Mark, grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt,and pulled him up so they stood nose to nose. “You got a fucking problem?”
“N’No problem. We’re good, now.” Mark twisted and squirmed backward until he pulled his T-shirt free from Derek’s grasp and quickly scurried away.
Derek’s sinister gaze followed, a hard sneer curled into his upper lip, and his chest still puffed up with attitude and dominance.
“It’snot a big deal,” Travis said, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “We threw some punches. That’s all.”
“I can see that.” Derek tilted Travis’ head toward the light to get a better look at his eye. “Can you open it at all?”
“Nah. It’ll be fine. Didn’t you ever throw blows with your bandmates?”
“Never.”
“What about your brother?”
“My brother would kick my ass.”
Travis laughed and Derek finally smiled.
“Come back to my dressing room.” Derek wrapped his arm around Travis. “I’ll put some ice on that eye.”
“I’m more concerned about my hand.” Travis held up his gnarled fist. “I think it’s broken.”
“Christ! You gotta get to the hospital!”
Felix was suddenly there,waving his arms and yelling. “Why hasn’t an EMT examined this man? He was hurt on the venue’s property! I’ve already called 911! I’m calling my lawyer! You all have some major explaining to do!” Stagehands scattered and the production crew started running in different directions and speaking into handheld radios.
“Just take it easy.” Felix placed his hand on Travis’ arm for reassurance.“Relax. I’m getting you medical attention. Thank God someone told us what happened. I can’t believe your tour manager didn’t take this more seriously. You could have a concussion. You had no business performing in your condition.”
Travis was touched at the man’s concern. Bulletproof’s manager had no obligation to take care of him, yet the man was more worried about him than one ofhis foster parents had been when he fell out of a tree and broke his ankle when he was 12. “I’m fine. But I think my hand needs an x-ray.”
“You’ll get a full examination at the hospital. Someone get this man a chair!” Felix yelled over his shoulder, and a metal folding chair was immediately placed next to Travis. “I’m sorry, Derek, but you really can’t go to the hospital with him.You have a show to do. I’ll send someone with him so he won’t be alone.”
Felix automatically assumed that Travis had no one, and the accuracy of it crushed him.
Brandon and Cam and Jeremy and Alan appeared and surrounded Travis, all asking if he was alright and listening to Derek explain what had happened. It slowly dawned on Travis that he wasn’t alone. He had friendsin Bulletproof. And he had pulled his weight tonight on stage. He didn’t substantiate Mark’s claim that he was a fuck up. He fought through the pain of his injured hand, his throbbing eye, and the knot on his jaw, and performed like a superstar.
Travis padded down the hallway toward Derek’s suite,wobbly in his stride. He juggled the prescription bottles in his pocket with his good hand, wondering if he’d continue with the prescribed dose. He hadn’t wanted the pain killers or the medication, but eventually conceded, after he grew too tired to continue arguing with the persuasive doctors and nurses at the hospital.
He knocked on the door to the penthouse and it swung open. Derekwrapped his arms around Travis in a hug that knocked the wind out of him, before he pulled back and stared at the splint that encased Travis’s hand and wrist. “Oh fuck. You really broke it?”
“Just a hairline fracture.” Travis smiled proudly, like a boy displaying his first black eye. An irony, since he also sported a shiner. The swelling had gone down, allowing blurred vision to peekthrough a small slice.
“Look at you.” Derek gave Travis an alluring glance from head to toe. “Black eye. Broken hand. Bruised mouth. You’re a hellion!”
Travis shrugged. “Trouble finds me wherever I go.”
“What happened? Why’d you get into a fight with Mark?”
“It’s not important. I think we’re cool now. He gave me props for toughing it out on stage.He played with a broken nose, so I guess I have to give him credit for that, too.”
“I gotta hand it to you, Trav. You put on some show. It’s all over social media. It was pure gore. The fans loved it. Media ran wild with it. The news even played a clip.”
“Is that Floyd Mayweather at the door?” Jeremy called from somewhere inside the suite, a teasing lilt punctuating hiswords.
“More like Rocky Balboa,” Travis answered, touching his sore cheekbone.
“You gotta see the shiner on this guy!” Derek wrapped his arm around Travis and brought him into the kitchen, where everyone was standing around the center island. Even the dog sat among them as if she was involved in their conversation.
