Page 75 of Torch Songs

“Yeah?”

“I really needed you tonight. I’ve needed you this whole last month.”

She gave a little gasp. “So?”

But he knew she knew why this was important. “I’ve needed you. And you’ve been here. Honey, you’vereallybeen here. Think about it. I know recovery is always a process. I know there’s going to be hard times ahead. Just… remember. You can be here for me. Youarethat strong. Youarethat person. So even if you need help, that’s okay. You give some you get some, okay?”

He felt her back up to him so they were touching through the blankets, but not ickily close. “You’re a good brother. Go to sleep, Tadpole. We’ll take care of each other. I get it now.”

And he did.

Not Afraid

TAD’S PARTNERwas a nice man. He must have been since Guthrie actually felt a gush of relief when he saw Chris Castro’s Hollywood-handsome face peering into his ER cubicle. He was holding Guthrie’s trashed phone.

“Guthrie?” Castro said. “You remember me?”

“Yeah,” Guthrie mumbled, and then to his chagrin, a beautiful woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and a heart-shaped Latina face peeked in under Castro’s arm as he held open the curtain. “My band?” he asked, but then he was interrupted.

“You’re Tad’s young man,” she said, like she knew for sure. “You must be. You’re so handsome. No wonder he’s smitten.”

Guthrie stared at her in horror. “Oh God,” he said.

“I’m Laura Castro,” she told him, swooping right in toward his bed. “And you and me have to know each other better. LEO spouses need to stick together, you know?”

Guthrie blinked. Spouses? “Oh God,” he said again.

“Laura,” Castro murmured, his voice pained. “The boy’s in shock. Maybe give him some breathing room.”

“Tad was sorry he couldn’t come,” Laura said, ignoring him completely. “But he didn’t want you to be alone. Chris got a friend to drive your truck over. Your equipment’s all safe. I know musicians—my brother used to play in a band when he was in college. That equipment is yourlife, you know?”

Guthrie nodded, because hedidknow. “Thank you,” he managed, which was a change from “Oh God.”

“So Laura’s going to take the SUV home, and I’ll drive you back to Sacramento when they let you out,” Castro said. “Any idea when that might be?”

Guthrie shook his head, suddenly tired to his bones. “No.” He glanced at his shoulder, which was bandaged and aching under the haze of painkillers. “I had to give my statement,” he said, feeling dumb. “I couldn’t identify shit. Was just trying to make sure Roberta and Neal and Owen were safe. They’re safe, right? How was I supposed to know what he looked like? Who checks for birthmarks when they’ve got a knife on you? Seriously. Another scumbag with a knife. Oh good!” Guthrie chuckled. “A scumbag with aconcussion,” he said, satisfaction in his bones. “My guitar case isreinforced. They told me that asshole didn’t know his own name.”

Castro let out a chuff of air. “Well done. But what aboutyou?”

Guthrie tried to shrug, hurt his shoulder, and grimaced. “I’ll figure it out,” he declared, although he was staring dolefully at his phone in Chris’s hand. “But Idohave my tips, so maybe I could call a cab and go to my apartment in San Rafael. Wait. I coulddrivenow. ’Cause you brought mytruck.”

Castro gave him a level look. “And you arehigh as a kite, and you’re drivingnowheretonight.”

Guthrie sulked. “He’s waiting for me,” he told Castro plaintively. “Waiting. Forme. I’ve got to get back to him. You know that, right? I’ll figure out a way. You don’t need to worry.”

“Aw,” Laura said, smoothing Guthrie’s hair back from his forehead. “No wonder you were so overwhelmed. You’rewasted. What did they give you?”

“A teeny tiny bit of fentanyl with a Vicodin chaser,” said a voice over Chris’s shoulder, and Guthrie looked up to see the seasoned ER veteran who’d treated him coming to check the chart on his bed. “He kept saying he couldn’t afford a hospital stay, so we didn’t want to knock him out completely.”

“My department will pick it up,” Castro said, pulling a card from his pocket. “Bill them.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Give it to the nurse when she comes to check you out in the morning.” She gave Guthrie a frustrated glance. “He needs to take it easy. The knife wound is the big thing, but I guess there was quite a scuffle before the other guy broke out the knife.”

“Had to make sure they got away,” Guthrie said soberly to the pretty woman with her lovely heart in her lovely face.

“They did,” the doctor confirmed. “They’re the ones who called the cops, because you refused to go until they were safe.” She turned to Chris. “Your boy paid the price. There’s bruises and contusions. He’s going to feel like he got hit by a truck when the pain meds wear off.”

“Whee!” Guthrie sang, because he reallywassailing.

---