Page 71 of Out of the Blue

I pound the bed. Not like I’ve been able to write a single lyric since Mom was killed.

I flip my head. They can find another songwriter.But do I want them to?

Forgetting the living, I focus in on my mother and allow myself the luxury to think about the good times. She single-handedly raised me. She supported my choice to go into music knowing full well I was following in my father’s footsteps. But she always attended our gigs. Cheered the loudest. Danced with the crowd.

God, I miss her.

I miss her support. Her ready laugh, and how she always encouraged my dreams. All I ever wanted in life was to make her proud. And here we are, opening for a humongous band, and touring the East Coast. Despite the name of the headliner, I bet she’s looking down on me and smiling.

And it hits me like a new guitar riff.

I want to stay here. I want to play music with my friends and make more people dance and sing and cheer. And I want to make a name for TLR, as Cordelia dubbed us.

But to do all that, I need to accept a kidney from my father.

What did Auntie Gloria say? “This is his second chance to give me life.” As far as I know, he isn’t backing away from his decision just because he found out I’m his son.

My eyes slam shut.

If I accept his offer, it doesn’t mean we’ll have any sort of relationship. It only shows I want to live to spend more time with my boys. A vision of Cordelia pops into my mind. No. Not her. Not the way I ran her out of the room.

Or maybe…

I’m still mulling over my less-than-spectacular options when someone knocks on my door. I clench my jaw. “What?”

Sara, alone, marches through the door, an unreadable look on her face. My body tenses. Guess I don’t have to make a decision after all. He wasn’t even man enough to tell me he’s changed his mind himself. She stops at the foot of my bed. “Can I be straight with you?”

No howdy-dos with this one. Guess her accountant training stood her in good stead for our conversation. I flip my wrist, indicating the floor is all hers.

“I’m not going to lie and tell you that your, well, truth didn’t come as a complete shock to us. Brax had absolutely no idea you were his son.” Her gaze remains fixed on me.

“Yeah. I kinda got that.”

She nods. “But shock or not, this is our new reality. All of us. You’ve got Hunte blood in your veins. And you’ve done some amazing things with your life. TLR is a fantastic band, and you have a wonderful group of friends in them. Plus, your girlfriend is a real go-getter. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, you’ve created a very good life for yourself.”

Her description echoes my prior thoughts. Some of my wariness recedes. “Thank you. I’m aware I’ve been blessed.”

“Yes, you have. So, please don’t throw all of it away out of some sort of animus against Brax. He’s a wonderful man, with a huge heart. If you let him save your life now, you’ll have time to get to know each other.” She pauses, blinking several times. “And I’ll be able to experience life with my third child.”

“You want me in your family?” The question spills out of my lips before my brain can censor it.

Her fingers steeple. “Not going to lie. This has been quite jolting, but I knew Brax’s reputation when I married him. We have some things to sort through, clearly, but none of it involves you, if you get my drift. That aside, I want to get to know the man you are. I think you’ll complete the Hunte family in new and exciting ways.”

Is she speaking for herself alone here, or for him as well? “Have you asked him if he’s still willing to donate?”

She rearranges her fingers. “Not directly. But I can’t imagine he’d turn his back on his own son.” She steps toward the top of the bed. “Will you let him do this for you?”

“Guess my choices are limited.” My heart rate picks up. While death does have its allure, I’m not ready to give up on my life. I let my decision sink into my bones. Smoothing down the blanket, I ask, “Could you possibly ask him to come in here?”

Her face brightens into a breathtaking smile, her beauty catching me off guard. Braxton chose well. Really well.

“I’d be delighted.” She reaches out and touches my cheek, then leaves.

I don’t have much time to digest our conversation when a blond head pokes into the room. “Sara said you wanted to speak with me?” With an unnatural gait, he walks to the foot of my bed, where his wife stood minutes ago. Guess he isn’t sure what to expect.

Makes two of us.

“Thank you for coming. I’ve made a decision.” I swallow. “If you’re still willing to donate your kidney to me, I’d be happy to take it.” I stumble on the last part of the sentence, but I manage to get it out.

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