I bend and whisper in his ear. “I’m fighting for you, Tyler. I’m going to fight to stay.”
THIRTY
Gavin and Beryl visit Tyler next and I sit with Jayce, Dave and Kristina in the waiting room. The tabloid cable news is on and Dave listens intently, alert and preparing for damage control.
I wish I could un-hear what they’re saying about Tyler. He’s the top story.
“How about we play a drinking game?” Jayce suggests in jest. His phone pings but he ignores the text. “We drink every time we hear the words ‘allegedly’ or ‘accused’ or ‘baby daddy.’”
Or overdose. That’s the word that blares in my brain, as in, “Hospital officials will neither confirm nor deny Tyler Walsh’s alleged drug overdose.”
“If we drank every time we heard Kim Archer’s name, we’d be in the ER ourselves for alcohol poisoning,” Kristina adds sourly. “That bitch. I knew she was after him for money.”
My stomach turns at the thought of more booze. Then again, it could simply be hunger pangs—it’s well past dinnertime.
I buy a Sprite from the vending machine and it settles my stomach a bit. I haven’t drunk Sprite since I was a kid, but it’s Tyler’s staple, so now it’s the only thing I want. It makes me feel closer to him.
Dave’s phone chirps and he takes another call from the band’s manager. They’re debating how to handle the press since the damaging video—Tyler, bloody and strapped to a gurney, and me, covered in Tyler’s blood—went live.
The speculation is ugly.
When Gavin and Beryl return from visiting Tyler, Dave and Kristina take a turn. Beryl perches on the chair next to me. “Stella, you look wrecked.”
“Thanks a lot, sister.”
“You know what I mean. It’s been a rough day.” Beryl touches my shoulder with concern and I nod. She doesn’t know yet how rough today’s really been. “You want to come home with us for a while? You could take a nap in Gavin’s guest room and you won’t have to deal with the reporters outside Tyler’s place.”
I shake my head. I’m not leaving the hospital unless it’s with Tyler.
“You are so stubborn. No wonder Tyler’s nuts about you,” Gavin says, teasing me gently.
What the hell? Apparently, Tyler’s proclaimed his love to everyone but me. I feel left out, but at the same time, it makes me feel warmer inside.
When Dave and Kristina come back from visiting Tyler, the three members of Tattoo Thief put their heads together in a whispered discussion. Kristina flops in the seat next to me while Beryl fidgets on my other side.
We’re waiting for their decision.
But I don’t want to wait, especially if how they’re going to handle the media concerns me. I stand up but Beryl tugs me back. “Stella. Let them figure it out.”
“They’re a unit,” Kristina adds. “Let them decide.”
But I have to get involved. I lay my hand on Jayce’s broad shoulder and he moves aside to allow my face into the group.
“We’ve got to freeze them out,” Dave insists. “Let the news run its course until some drunk starlet crashes her car or flashes her crotch to the paparazzi. Eventually, they’ll lose interest.”
“Not going to happen,” Gavin argues. “We’ve got to feed them enough that they’re satisfied and stop reporting lies. We’ve got to take the story and spin it our way.”
“Have any of you asked Tyler about this?” Jayce snaps. “Because he’s a person, not a story. He’s always been private about his diabetes, so you can’t just release that information and expect him to be OK with it. It’s not your story to tell.”
“It’s my story, too,” I whisper, and Dave fumes. “I don’t think you have to put Tyler out there, especially since he’s not up to talking. But I can talk to the press. I can explain what happened, if Tyler wants me to, and kill the overdose rumors right now.”
Dave shakes his head. “No frickin’ way.”
“It’s a risk,” Gavin says. “If you go public, they’re going to throw everything at you, everything ugly they can dig up. You become a public figure and there’s a target on your back.”
“Aren’t I already a public figure?” I counter. “I just lost my job because of Tyler. There’s not much left of me to tear apart. And if it means cutting off the rumor mill at the knees, I’d gladly do it for him.”
“They’ll slaughter you,” Jayce warns me. Another ping from Jayce’s phone tries to interrupt us but he ignores it.
“There’s no good way to do it,” Dave adds. “If you release a statement, they’ll go after your credibility, try to figure out if you’re a druggie or an alcoholic too, if you’re lying to protect Tyler.”
I swallow hard. All evidence points to the fact that I am sliding down a slippery slope toward alcoholism. I can’t even say I’ve reformed—this morning proves just the opposite.
“If you do a press conference, they’ll throw every loaded question at you that you never expected,” Gavin adds.
“The whole ‘when did you stop beating your wife?’ line? Gavin, I went to journalism school. I know how this works.”
“You haven’t experienced it from the other side,” he says. “I have. They came at me from all sides when Lulu died. And that was an overdose.”
I have no words to counter this, but setting the record straight is the one thing I feel like I must do for Tyler. He rescued me in countless ways, and now I want to be there for him. Even if it kills me or my reputation. This is the gift I can give him.
“I want to go ask Tyler,” I say to Gavin, and then turn to Dave. “If he agrees, will you set it up?”
“Majority rules, bro,” Jayce reminds Dave. “If he says yes, we have to let Stella do it.”
Dave frowns but nods. It’s clear this is the way the band makes decisions, and it’s one reason they’ve managed to stay together for seven years.
Jayce and I duck into Tyler’s curtained room and his eyelids are droopy. I clasp his hand and kiss his knuckles while Jayce explains what’s happening in the news cycle and that I could set the record straight, but it would mean going public with his diabetes.
“There’s just no other explanation that isn’t a lie,” Jayce concludes, spreading his hands. “But the decision’s yours, bro.”
“I can do this. I want to do this for you,” I add.
“Ine jus so tiyudd,” Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. I’m just so tired. I can relate. When everything’s a struggle—every story or every meal, every dollar or every gig, sometimes you just want to let that tightly held control come undone.
And that’s at the heart of my relationship with Tyler. Releasing control to let the other person steer your ship for a while. It’s terrifying and intimate and powerful. It’s love.
Tyler’s eyes search my face and I can feel him make a decision. “Ooo wha oo ink iss wite.” Do what you think is right.
Jayce nods. “Get some sleep, buddy. We’ll be back when it’s done, and if you play your cards right, Stella might even dress up as a naughty nurse for you later.”
I swat Jayce away, giving him a mighty eye-roll. I lean in to kiss Tyler on the cheek and the corner of his mouth, whispering a promise that I’ll be back before he wakes. I hope I can keep my promise.
Dave’s on the phone when we emerge from the ER, and Jayce gives him a thumbs-up to set up the press conference. Dave scowls and keeps talking.