Falling Sky (21 page)

Chapter Thirty

Dylan

There’s running from problems, and there’s killing yourself trying. I guess I crossed the line. Even without the support of the guys, I’m out of here. Why fool myself any longer? I need space.
To breath. To be.

Sky. I fucking hurt her again by letting her down. Knowing that the pain in her eyes when she walked into the room was partly due to
me, sears the reality across my mind. I need to change.

No more running. No more hiding.

Getting away from the hospital (leaving behind the unimpressed medical staff) and back to the hotel was a military manoeuvre. We timed me leaving out the back with Tina walking out of the front with a statement for the press, one quashing rumours I’d tried to kill myself. I’m suffering from “exhaustion” apparently, which isn’t far off the mark.

My head pounds and I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi-trailer, but I can’t stay at the hospital.
Doctors were all over me about what meds I’ve been taking and when and how much. Too tired to deal with that, I flick them off promising I’ll address this when I get back to England. When the young doctor looked at me doubtfully, I grinned and said there’s this girl I know who’ll kick my backside if I don’t.

The curtains in the suite are drawn and the TV plays quietly. I adjust my eyes and see Sky lying on top of the unmade bed. I creep over and sit on the edge, stroking some hair from her eyes. Even in the dim light, Sky’s pale face matches mine, exhaustion pulling at her mouth and sitting below her eyes in dark rings.
This isn’t all caused by me, but I haven’t helped. There’s no movement and her heavy breathing suggests she’s deeply asleep.

The other thing I saw in Sky’s eyes today was fear. I never doubted how deeply she cares for me, but always argued with myself I wasn’t worth the love she has. She once told me I pulled her into my universe, but she’s wrong. The moment I met
her my world began to revolve around hers, our souls locked into the same orbit.

I carefully
lay beside her, and encompass her with my arms. She’s cold beneath the air-conditioning, so I pull a blanket over us. My strawberry scented Sky is where she belongs, in my arms and as long as I have breath in my body, I’ll fight to make her mine.

****

SKY

The floor to ceiling window outside of the conference room looks across the Manhattan skyline and I stand nose practically touching the window. Scanning the tall buildings, I find what I’m looking for. The Empire State Building. One of my favourite movies is
Sleepless in Seattle
, and I’ve watched the film numerous times, heart melting and tears flowing. As I look out, I picture Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, while the barely contained emotions that have wrung through me the last few days threaten tears again.

“Are you okay? You’re quiet.”

I turn to Dylan. “I was just thinking how strange it is to look out at somewhere I’ve seen in movies. From behind the glass, I feel as if I’m watching a movie.”

Today Dylan looks brighter, but his eyes are still shadowed in his pale face. This morning, he woke early and padded around the room before disappearing into another part of the penthouse. I found him watching TV when I woke up. He was distant, still not a hundred percent with me, and to be
honest, I felt rejected. Half an hour later we’re here, waiting for the rest of the band to meet and decide what to do. Ten am meetings aren’t very rock and roll; will Jem make it? Liam and Honey are here; Honey is carefully placed on Liam’s knee, texting. Liam has a hand on her leg, but he’s gazing out of the window too.

“We can go out later?” asks Dylan. “I know some good places.”

“I thought we were going back to England?”

“Sure, but I thought maybe you’d want to at least do a bit of the tourist thing while you’re here?”

All I feel like doing is returning to the familiar and taking Dylan with me. Spending the majority of my time either at hospital or in the quiet of my flat, I don’t feel prepared for the onslaught to my senses likely from a trip into Manhattan.

“I’m shopping this morning. You could come?” Honey asks.

“Sounds like an idea, Sky?” encourages Dylan.

I stare at him incredulously. Okay, Honey’s finally being friendly, but I don’t have the energy.
For shopping. Or her.

“I’m not in the mood, sorry,” I say, giving Honey my best apologetic smile.

“You don’t like shopping?” she asks, looking up from her phone.

“Treat yourself, Sky. Spend some of my money,” says Dylan.

“I don’t want to spend your money,” I retort.

Dylan looks at me curiously. “Will you ever agree to spend any of my money? Honey’s happy to spend Liam’s.”

The undertone digging at her happily spending Liam’s money embarrasses me and I give Dylan a ‘be quiet’ look. Honey has returned to her texting and doesn’t hear, and Liam doesn’t respond, gaze still on the window. Is he worrying about the band?

“She’s allowed,” I inform Dylan in a low voice

“Why?”

“They’re getting married.” As soon as the words are out, my cheeks heat with a deep pink, terrified they could be misconstrued. “I mean, she needs to spend his money on the wedding, not that she has open access to his credit card because they’re engaged,” I add probably too hastily.

Dylan rubs his lips with his fingertips and I desperately try to gauge his reaction. His mouth tugs at the corner. “So is that what I have to do to get you to spend my money?”

My heart stutters at his hint about marriage. No. Please don’t go there, not to something we’ve never discussed and not in front of Honey. I shake my head and slide a look to Liam and Honey.

Dylan’s teasing grin widens before he spots someone behind me and nods. “Hey, Bryn.”

Bryn places an arm across Dylan’s shoulders. “How you feeling today?”

Dylan doesn’t answer, glancing at me instead. “If you’re not sightseeing, are you hanging around?”

“Might sit here and read.” I indicate the sofas near where we’re standing and the magazines on the low glass table between them.

“Jem here yet?” asks Bryn.

“I’m sure he’s not far. I’ll text him,” Dylan replies.

When Dylan kisses me and walks away, my heart bangs in my chest. We hit a subject I didn’t want to talk about yet. The worst part is I couldn’t fathom what he thought.

I turn from where Dylan walked into the nearby room and come face to face with
Jem. For a moment, I think he’s about to walk straight by, but in the narrow hallway and the close proximity, if either of us did that, we’d be snubbing.

Jem
regards me silently for a moment. His brown eyes are sober and he smells of hotel soap, not the lingering smell of alcohol. Nine am but that doesn’t always make a difference.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

The day I first met this man, he terrified me and I hated him. Now all I feel is sympathy, and gratitude. The similarities between Dylan and him have intensified in my mind recently, and despite the fact he still behaves like an arrogant dickhead around most women, he’s dropped the facade around me.

He moves as if to pass and I touch his arm. “Thanks.”

Jem pulls his arm away but the surprise in his face registers. “For what?”

“Helping Dylan the other night.”

“Yeah. Well, just knew something wasn’t right.” He shifts uncomfortably, looking to the door behind.

“I hope being able to talk to each other again helps you both,” I say. “Dylan cares a lot about you.”

Jem runs his tongue along his teeth. “Sure. Catch you later.”

Talking to me is evidently something he’s not entirely comfortable with.

I curl up outside the room in a soft armchair and half-wish I’d gone with Honey. Well, for a fleeting moment, then my sanity returns. There are other opportunities to do these things if I stay with Dylan, right?

“Where’s Dylan?”

I look up, pulled out of my book world by Steve’s voice. I prepare for conflict but Steve’s tired face and slumped stance suggests he’s not here to fight.

“He’s with the band,” I tell him.

“And they are where?”

I point my magazine to the closed door. “In there.”

Steve’s face is impassive. “Uh huh. Fortunate then, because I wanted to talk to them all. They hiding from me?”

“None of my business.”

“Of course not.” He sits in the armchair opposite me. “I’m not stupid; I know what’s going on. Probably about time.” I blink, not expecting this reaction. “They’re not the only ones struggling. Do you think I’d let everything fall apart after all this time?”

“So what? You’re going to loosen the leash a bit?” I ask, unable to stop the snide comment.

“I put my life into this too. They implode; I’m going down with them. They need a break, makes sense. They’ll come back.”

“How can you be sure?”

He sits back, arms behind his head. “How many farewell tours have you seen from big bands? Plenty, I’ll bet. And how many of them come back? Most of them.”

He’s right.
On both counts. The messed up Dylan needs out, but he could never turn his back on the music. Whether that means coming back to Blue Phoenix or not, I’m not sure. Stepping away is the thing to do for all of them right now, including Steve. The spiralling descent of the band into chaos and ultimately destruction would be more damaging to Steve than allowing them time off. Time I think Steve needs too.

“Just do me a
favour, Sky. Let him do what he loves, don’t try and change him.”

“Why would I try and change him?”

“Because I don’t think you really want his world.”

“I don’t think our relationship is any of your business,” I retort.

“So I keep being told.” Steve rubs his hands on his legs. “Know why I worry about you and not Honey? Honey’ll break Liam’s heart, but she won’t ever try to stop him doing what he wants. I doubt she’ll be around in a year’s time.”

I stand and place the magazine on the table. “They’re in there. Maybe knock before you go in?”

I begin to walk away and he calls after me, “You’re welcome by the way.”

I pause and look back at him. “For what?”

“The criminal damage charge I got you out of.” I frown in confusion and as the realisation hits, he smirks. “Throwing cameras around, not good. Be nice to the press.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, annoyed at my pink face as I walk away.

****

Dylan

“That’s it? No dramas? Threats?” I ask Steve.

Steve doesn’t sit when he enters the room and leans against the door, arms crossed. The tired lines of his face and slackened stance indicate he’s not here for confrontation.

“I’m over this as much as you guys. Sometimes damage control means hitting the brakes. That’s what you want? Please, don’t fucking tell me you’re splitting?”

I glance at Bryn, our usual spokesperson. “Time out, Steve. That’s what we’ve decided. A year and we’ll talk again,” says Bryn.

Steve runs a hand along his
stubbled cheek. “No one has any plans to go solo I hope?”

“We only want a break. Me? I’m spending a year sorting my life out,” says Liam.

“After the wedding?” asks Jem.

Liam’s gaze shifts to his feet. “The fucking wedding, yeah.”

“She’ll be popping out a baby next, old man,” sniggers Jem.

“Oh, holy fuck, Mini Honeys,” laughs Bryn.

“No way. No kids yet.” Liam’s as pale as I am now, and I don’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him.

“From what I’ve seen, Honey gets what she wants,” says Steve. “She got you.”

“Yeah, since when was this a discussion about my family plans?” he snaps.

I’m in shock at Steve’s reaction, the guy who gripped us tightly now giving us a break? I watch his banter with the other guys and
realise how clever he is. Blue Phoenix was slipping through his fingers, like sand through an hourglass, and his control slips with it. He’ll ensure he’s our go to man; he’ll watch us from a distance and step in when he needs. The thumbprint on our foreheads will still be there. Am I happy? I’m too fucking tired to care. A couple of months switched off from everything, but Sky is my first plan. Then next, who knows?

“Do you all have plans? This isn’t a clever ploy to kick me out I hope?” asks Steve.

Now the wounded party act.

“Nah, as if we would,” says
Jem, and stands. “Don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Bryn and I catch each other’s eyes. He sees Steve’s game too.

“You’re dealing with the arrangements for this then?” Bryn asks dubiously. “Liaising with whoever the hell needs to know?”

“I’m still your manager. I’m still getting paid, and the
team’ll get onto this. Press releases, tour changes. I’ll deal. One thing though, guys…”

Of course.

“The dates we’re cancelling now, I need agreement on a reschedule. I don’t mind dealing with pissed off people, but furious people, I don’t do well.”