A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) (11 page)

Thinking about it made
Amy smile, even all these days later.

Not a day had gone by
that she hadn’t heard from Luke. They would text and then call each other at
night. There were a few nights that Amy woke to Luke’s call at three in the morning.
She always acted like she had been awake waiting.

Today Amy was baking a
whole new array of goods. Everything from fresh banana bread to something she
called
triple threat chocolate cupcakes
. The notion of baking kept
nagging Amy, so she decided to go into work early and make something new
everyday. So far the restaurant had sold out of everything Amy baked. She was
secretly keeping financial tabs on the cost of her baking and what they were
making. She planned on showing it all to Uncle Tom soon in order to offer a
crazy idea.

A small bakery next door.

There was a small strip
of businesses right next door and the one store had seen two pizza places come
and go within the past year. Amy wanted to put a bakery there for herself. To
do that, she needed money. She needed support. She needed to think about other
debts to pay also. It was just a dream at that point, which was better than
nothing. Even if her bakery skills were kept in Tommy Two’s for desserts, it
would be another reason to come to the restaurant. Nothing wrong with that.

Uncle Tom came from the
office, whistling, holding a stack of papers.

“Something smells good,”
he said.

“Banana bread and
chocolate cupcakes,” Amy said.

“You and this baking,”
Uncle Tom said. “Why don’t you take some time away from this place? Like a
normal human. Go visit your guy friend.”

That’s what Uncle Tom had
been referring to Luke as… her
guy friend
.

“My guy friend isn’t in
town anymore, you know that,” Amy said.

“He run off?”

“He plays music. He’s on
tour.”

Uncle Tom put his hands
up and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay then. What do I know?”

“You know this
restaurant,” Amy said. “Stick to it.”

Uncle Tom laughed. The
buzzer on an oven went off and Amy opened the door to the warm aroma of her
cupcakes. They were going to sell like crazy tonight, Amy knew it. With a name
that included ‘triple threat’ who wouldn’t want one?

“Those smell and look
delicious,” Uncle Tom said. He was looking over Amy’s shoulder. “My niece, the
baker.”

Amy looked back at her
uncle. He was such a good man. A kind man. A man who understood. For a split
second Amy imagined herself saying something about the open building next door.
However, the urge came and went for fear of hurting her uncle. She didn’t want
him to take it the wrong way. The restaurant was dear to Amy’s heart too. If
she did pursue an outside business it would most certainly put Uncle Tom in a
position to never leave the restaurant.

“I’m going to get some
shopping done,” Uncle Tom said. “Need to get some fresh fish for tonight,
right?”

“I’ll go,” Amy said. “You
shouldn’t have to run around.”

“You’ve got plenty to do
here,” Uncle Tom said. “Just wondering, are you going to have some employees
come in and help?”

“Eventually.”

“Stubborn.”

“Just like you.”

Uncle Tom laughed and
left the kitchen.

Amy returned to work and
an hour later she took a much needed break. It was actually a decent enough day
outside. Still chilly but with the sun standing in a cloudless sky, it had a
warm touch to it. There were two waitresses in the restaurant for the lunchtime
rush and Amy had Jeff and Chris in the kitchen now. They were handling the
lunch cooking and the prep work for dinner.

Amy caught herself
walking down the sidewalk. When she stopped in front of the empty store, she
touched the glass window and imagined it. A small bakery. She could do custom
cakes, cupcakes, breads even. She could supply the restaurant and also custom
orders for customers. It seemed so simple, but running one restaurant was hard
enough.

After a few minutes of
dreaming, Amy returned to the restaurant. Maybe someday she could have all
those little things she really wanted.

Back in the restaurant
Amy stayed focused on that night’s dinner. Her cell phone vibrated and Amy
smiled. She hadn’t heard from Luke all day. She grabbed the phone and then
dropped it. It smashed against the metal counter and called the attention of
everyone in the kitchen. Amy took the phone and rushed into the office. She
didn’t want everyone to see her upset.

She read the text message
waiting.

Looking for a new place?

It was from Denny.

Amy told herself she
wouldn’t engage with him. She would ignore him. But he wasn’t going to
disappear though. Amy owed him a lot of money.

What do you want Denny?

Amy sent the message.
There was now an open conversation.

The phone beeped with a
reply.

You know what I want.
What’s owed. I’d also like to know why you were looking at an empty building…
the last thing you need is more debt, Amy. Pay up. Soon.

Amy let out a cry and
threw her phone to the desk. She covered her face and shook her head.
Everything was getting ruined. She had thought by now Uncle Tom would have
given her the restaurant. She would have then been able to handle the situation
with Denny on her own. Her paycheck would never cut it. Uncle Tom would be
heartbroken. Not to mention Denny was crazy and dangerous and obviously still
spying on Amy.

(10)

Luke stood before his
band as they sat, their eyes upon him. The time had come to confess everything.
The autograph session had gone great. The Q&A was even better. Luke caught
himself clearing his throat more than he ever had in his life during the
Q&A. He was tense about answering questions. He was tense about the way the
band looked at him. Not to mention the guilt he felt from hiding his secret for
so long.

“I assume Frank doesn’t
know a thing,” Mack said.

“No,” Luke said.
“Nothing. I visited a doctor on my own time. Got an idea of what was going on
and what to do.”

“Well,” Gray said,
“what’s going on and what are we going to do?”

“That’s the hard part,”
Luke said. “I’ve got something with my throat. My vocal chords. It might be
serious, it might not.”

“Might?” Mack asked.

“You heard what I said.
When I saw the doctor he called me and told me I should rest. He wants me to
rest my throat. No singing, screaming, anything like that for a little while.”

“How long?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know now,” Luke
said. “I’ve been playing and touring. The blood thing… that’s new. That just
started, I swear.”

“And you didn’t tell us,”
Mack said. “Dammit.”

“It’s not like that,”
Luke said. “I didn’t want to cancel the tour. I didn’t want to mess everything
up, okay? I wanted to get through the rest of the tour and then talk. Then
rest. Then go into the studio and start with the music and add vocals last.”

“Are you going to be able
to add vocals?” Gray asked.

“I hope so,” Luke said.

“I can’t believe I’m
hearing this,” Trent said. “I’m shocked, man. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“I didn't want to hurt
us,” Luke said. “I didn’t want to pull dates, the album. There’s so much buzz
right now. I just need to rest everything.”

“No more shows,” Mack
said. “We call Frank and tell him.”

“There’s only a couple
left,” Luke said. “It’ll kill us.”

“Maybe it’ll kill your
voice,” Gray said. “What the hell, man?”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said.
“I’m… just sorry…”

The conversation ended
there as Luke retreated to the back of the bus. He couldn’t believe everything
had happened like that. He knew it was going to come down to a confrontation, but
he thought he had time. The band remained out front, debating on what to do.
Luke could finish the final shows. Then he could rest.

Luke dialed for Frank as
he sat on the edge of his bed.

“Luke, talk to me,” Frank
said.

“I’m on the bus and
there’s a situation.”

“What kind of situation?”

“There’s something wrong
with vocal chords and I started to cough up blood,” Luke said.

“What?”

“It’s been going on for
months. Not the blood, that just started. I didn’t want to tell anyone because
I didn’t want to ruin the tour and the band. The band knows. Now you know. I
want to finish the tour. I can do it. Doctor told me I need rest. I’ll go visit
him when the tour is over and see what he says then. If I need surgery or if
won’t heal, then I’m done. It’s over, Frank. My career. My life.”

“Calm down,” Frank said.
“Don’t think like that. Let me figure out what to do.”

Luke hung up the phone
and started typing a text message.

Hey. Thinking of you.
It’s been a long day. Rough day. I wish I could see you. I hope soon, Amy. I
really do.

Luke sent the message and
sat deep in thought.

Mack appeared a few
seconds later, arms folded. He looked pissed.

“You know,” he said, “if
you weren’t physically hurt, I’d punch you in the head for this.”

“You still can,” Luke
said. “It’s my throat that’s messed up.”

“What were you thinking?”

“About you, me, the band.
Our future.”

“Luke, we’ve known each other
a long time, man. There’s nothing I want more than this right here. But not at
the expense of you. You know everything I’ve had to go through. I don’t want this.
Not if you’re hurt. And if it’s only rest you need…”

“I don’t know now,” Luke
said. “It’s obviously worse than before.”

“Shit.”

“I called Frank. I told
him. He said he’ll figure something out for us.” Luke looked at Mack. “It’s
going to hurt us if we cancel these last couple shows.”

“I’m not worried,” Mack
said. “We played that last show today then. That one song. There’s always a way
to figure it out. They’ll tell the truth. Your throat is messed up. It’s not
like you’re on drugs or something, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,”
Luke said.

“Of course I am,” Mack
said. “I wish you said something sooner.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

Luke’s phone vibrated. It
was a message from Amy.

“Does she know?” Mack
asked, nodding to the phone.

“No,” Luke said. “Nobody…
until now.”

Mack nodded and walked
away. Luke felt like death. He read Amy’s message.

Wish you were here with
me. I could use it.

The text message implied
more than Luke could handle yet. He hated the idea of being so far from Amy if
she needed him. In that moment, whether it was reality or made up in his mind,
Luke felt like he had let the down the entire world… from the fans to his band
to Amy.

It was a lonely feeling.

He got up and walked back
to the front of the bus. The rest of the band all sat quietly. Mack had his
hand on a bottle, Gray the same. Trent and Jake stared out the windows. The
bust kept moving, mile by mile, getting closer to the next show.

"Frank's going to
pull the tour," Mack said. "He has to."

"It's Frank
though," Gray said.

Mack drank from the
bottle. "Put it this way... I'm not playing another goddamn show until
Luke's voice is healed."

"Mack, wait,"
Luke said.

Mack took a step, drank
some more, then walked to the back of the bus.

"Shit," Luke
said. "This was why I didn't want to say anything. Dammit."

"You can't hurt
yourself, man," Gray said.

Luke took a seat and put
his head back. Of course, to make matters worse, Luke's throat hurt. It was more
tender than ever.

The bus was eerily quiet
and Luke's eyes started to shut.

When he opened them again
he found the bus stopped. And empty. Luke looked at his phone. It was almost
five in the afternoon. There were two messages from Amy. Both sweet, sexy, and
filled with heartache. Luke just wanted to get to Amy. Was that such a wrong
thing?

Luke shifted to the edge
of the seat as the bus door opened. He saw Frank's cellphone before his face.
Frank turned and slid his cellphone into his pocket. He paused and looked at
Luke as though Luke had some kind of deformity.

"Luke," Frank
said, "how are you feeling?"

"Like shit, okay? I
dozed off and woke and the bus is empty."

"The guys are in the
hotel," Frank said. "They didn't want to wake you."

"They're pissed at
me."

Frank nodded.
"Rightfully so, don't you think?"

"Are you here to
lecture me or talk to me?"

Frank adjusted his coat
and then sat down. "You know, I probably come across as a greedy prick,
don't I? A guy who wants nothing but money and more of it. In reality, Luke, I
look at you, I look at Fallen Tuesday, and I all I can see is a career. A long
career of music, tours, fans, and a great life for everyone involved."

"And I'm ruining
that right now?"

"No," Frank
said. "I'm worried about you right now."

"What did you tell
the record company?"

"Who said I talked
to them?" Frank asked.

"Did you talk to
them?"

"Yes."

Luke hung his head.
"What happened?"

"The tour is over
for now," Frank said.

"I don't want that.
That's not fair to the fans who paid..."

"It's taken care of,
Luke. Without you, Fallen Tuesday isn't the same band."

"It's still a band
though," Luke said.

"The record company
would rather take a hit on these next couple shows than lose you," Frank
said. "We owe at least one more album."

"So this is about
business."

"Of course it's
about business," Frank said. "Christ, Luke. Health and business. If
you're healthy, the band is healthy. You write, you tour, everyone wins. Now
when are you seeing a doctor?"

"So that's it?"
Luke asked. "We just let the fans suffer. We walk away."

"It's your health on
the line here," Frank said. "You could have said something earlier.
Months ago."

"So this is my
fault?" Luke asked.

"I'm not saying a
thing about that," Frank said. "No finger pointing. Just let's figure
out the future."

Frank stepped to the
front of the bus. Luke watched him and felt like he could cry. It was all over.
Everything they had worked for. And the worst part was that Luke still needed
to see Dr. Hornsbury before really knowing his future and fate with Fallen
Tuesday.

"This hurts
me," Luke said. "I can sing through pain. What I can't do is let the
fans down."

"Before you say
anything else, Luke, check the band's site," Frank said. "Let me know
your plans when you figure them out."

Frank left the bus. Luke
used his phone to look at the Fallen Tuesday website. There was an official
press release on the main page, detailing Luke's throat issues. It was spun in
a way that really bothered Luke. It sucked to read the words saying Fallen
Tuesday wouldn't be able to play their last few shows of the current tour.

The last line had a link
for fans to share their well wishes for Luke. Luke clicked it and couldn't
believe his eyes. The website had just been updated and there were already
thousands of fans writing to Luke. Fans who were supposed to see the shows but
wrote that they preferred Luke's health. They would rather have a healthy Luke
with a new album than to never hear his voice again.

Luke read a handful
before stopping.

He needed to talk to the
band and then get the hell away from everything and everyone. Luke made it into
the hotel without being seen. The woman behind the desk was in awe when Luke
asked for his room. He rode the elevator and used a key card to open the hotel
room. He found the band sitting around like they had been on the tour bus. The
mood was somber.

"Talk to
Frank?" Mack asked.

"I did," Luke
said. "I tried to fight him on it..."

"And hurt yourself
more?" Gray asked. "What are you trying to prove here?"

"Prove? I have
nothing to prove. I'm just trying to do what's best for us. The fans."

"Kill
yourself," Mack said. "Real damn smart."

Mack drank from a whiskey
bottle.

"Keep drinking that
shit," Luke said. "That'll help."

"You know what,
Luke?" Mack shouted. "You work on your health problems and don't
worry about me. You've done enough already."

Mack stormed away. He
threw the bottle of whiskey at the wall and it shattered. The amber liquid
cascaded down to the floor. Luke made fists and considered what to do next.

"He's right,"
Gray said. "I mean, what happens if this is permanent?"

"Then you find a new
lead singer," Luke said.

"We don't want
that," Trent said. "Don't you get that?"

"I guess I
don't," Luke said. "Enjoy your early vacation. Whatever money you're
personally losing on this I'll take care of through the Chasing Cross money I
made. Okay?"

"Money," Mack
scoffed. His back was to Luke and he shook his head. "You're starting to
sound like Frank, Luke. Starting to act like him, too. I thought we were like brothers
here. Brothers who can share anything."

"We are," Luke
said. "I loved you guys enough to try to fight through this."

"That's
bullshit," Mack said.

"Will you turn
around?" Luke asked.

"No. I've seen
enough. Heard enough too."

Mack sidestepped and went
into the bathroom.

"I'm leaving,"
Luke said. "I have a doctor's appointment to take care of."

Gray stood. "Luke...
we're just..."

"I get it,"
Luke said. He put a hand up. "I lied to you. I kept an important secret
from the band. I messed up. Just know I really thought I could get through this
tour and then talk about it. So it didn't come to this."

"I guess that plan
didn't work then," Jake said.

"I guess not,"
Luke said.

Luke stepped back, once,
then twice. The band slowly turned their attention elsewhere. Luke left the
hotel room alone. He fell against the wall and closed his eyes.

He dialed for a car. He
needed to get to Amy as fast as possible before finally facing the realest of
realities with Dr. Hornsbury.

**

Mack came from the
bathroom and found another bottle of whiskey. He was even more pissed off now.
He shouldn't have broken that bottle of whiskey. That was a complete waste of
mind numbing opportunity.

"Luke's gone,"
Gray said.

"Goodbye," Mack
muttered.

"Don't be like
that," Gray said.

"Because you were so
calm, right?"

"I didn't break a
damn bottle, man," Gray said.

"Fair enough. Maybe
I shouldn't have done that." Mack sat down, fresh bottle of whiskey in
hand. His mind raced and when he looked at the rest of the band it seemed they
felt the same way as he did. "I'm not cut out for this shit."

"What shit?"
Jake asked.

"Secrets. I can't
stand secrets. You guys know that more than anyone else. And especially
Luke."

"Consider what he
was doing," Gray said. "I'm not sticking up for him, but, you
know..."

"No, I don't
know," Mack said. "I saw blood in a sink and I thought he was on
drugs."

"Back up,"
Trent said. He slid to the edge of the couch. "You saw blood in a sink?
When?"