Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
The buses pulled over at a rest stop at the side of the freeway. They obviously waited a little bit to find one before they called over to my bus. I wish they had called right away. I would have been awake, alert, and ready.
Meanwhile, poor Wilder has been dumped in the bathroom, all alone. Has anyone even freaking checked on him?
“I’m going to the back.” I direct that at Benny, because he’s the only one I trust to give an actual shit at the moment. “When my bags get here, can you let me know?”
All my medical supplies are stored safely in duffels and one large hardshell suitcase in the back of the bus, with a few underneath in the luggage compartments. They’re no doubt being unearthed as we speak, but it’s probably going to be a long process.
“Sure thing, Carissa. I’ll let you know right away. I’m going to be a minute digging out cleaning supplies and gloving up, but that bunk doesn’t scare me. I have an iron stomach. It’s all those steaks. Throw them on the grill for just a second and whip those babies off. It creates an iron constitution.” He winks at me, so I’m not sure if he’s serious or not.
Benny does that a lot. He has such a great sense of humor, but no one ever knows when he’s telling tales and when he’s being serious. Half the time, I’m not even sure he knows.
“Benny, you’re showing us up,” Luke complains. Loudly.
I stifle all the douchebag and asshat comments that want to tear their way out of my mouth.
“Carissa’s a nurse. She doesn’t mind a little bit of throw up,” Jameson adds, clicking the video for another round.
“Carissa is going to be busy trying to help Wilder,” Benny states dryly with a whole lot of fatherly stop acting like a bunch of asshole pricks recrimination in his tone. Didn’t Luke and Jameson just hear our conversation? “Helping him get to the sold-out arena show tomorrow that no one wants to refund or apologize for.” He takes a wide-legged stance. I’m not sure how those jeans hold up without splitting right down the middle.
He’s standing like he’s going to an old-fashioned showdown.
Jameson rolls his eyes. “Okay. Sorry. Thanks for cleaning up the mess. The smell is horrendous, and no one will be getting any sleep if it lingers.”
“No one’s getting any sleep anyway,” Matt cuts in with an edge to his tone. “He’s going to be yakking all night.”
Wilder hates the big bedroom at the back of the bus, so it currently belongs to Matt. He knows what’s coming before I even turn to him. “Will you relocate to a bunk for tonight? The best thing is to get Wilder cleaned up and into a bed where I have room to monitor him. I’d like to hook up an IV and make sure he’s hydrated at the very least.”
“Hook him up?” Luke’s jaw just about unlatches like a cartoon character. “More like tie him to the bed after he’s half dead, get us all to sit on him, find a muzzle from somewhere, knock him upside the head, and—”
“Fuck’s sake.” Matt shoots out of the recliner, snapping it closed with a bang. “We get it already.” He stomps off to the back of the bus.
The air in here is practically toxic, and not from barf smells.
I swallow hard, give Benny a grateful smile, and head to the back, trailing in Matt’s wake. The bus is so much larger than most people realize, and luxurious too. It’s not made for royalty or anything, but at this point in the band’s career, they have enough money to make it more than comfortable.
I’m not far from Matt’s room. I can hear him storming around in there.
I knock on the bathroom door and wait for a response. It’s quiet for a while. I debate about breaking the thing down, but I figure no one else needs any further trauma. If it’s locked, Benny can probably find a way to break in.
He might even have a key.
“Wilder? It’s Carissa. I’d like to come in and make sure you’re okay. Can I do that whenever you’re ready?” There’s nothing. At all. “You can tell me to fuck off if you want, but please just answer me so I know you’re awake.”
“Fuck off.” A weak groan follows the grunted response. There’s zero heat in it. It’s more like a please don’t fuck off, but I have to pretend I’m not scared and humiliated and covered in bodily fluids.
“Not going to happen.” I flatten my palm against the door. “I’m not just any nurse. I’m your nurse.”
“I don’t need you here. I’ll just… it’ll pass in a few hours. We shouldn’t have stopped. I’m sorry I’m holding everyone up. Tell Benny to get going again. I’ll be fine.”