Full Tilt (Rock Star Chronicles) (37 page)

“We watch our backs.”

“Yeah, but there are tons of people each night.” Jacob held up his arms and looked around the massive arena. “Badino could be anywhere.”

Everett bent over. “Tell me about it.”

This is nuts. Other people are gonna be in danger…

“We need to let security know,” Jacob said. “Can we get a picture of this guy to circulate?”

“Only way to do that is to call his mom.”

“Let me meet with security first. They may be able to get one, if he has any kind of record.”

“Listen.” Everett sat up and grabbed Jacob’s wrist, stopping him from standing. “If anything happens to me—”

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“But if it does—”

“Stop it, Ev.” Jacob stood. “Just stop it. I’m going to find the head of security. You just rock on, man. Leave this to me. Okay?”

Everett nodded. He trusted Jacob. But more than that, he focused on giving himself to God. Just relinquishing control. Falling into His hands.

Jacob began to walk away, then turned around. “Hey, where do you want to go to dinner before the show? I need to book something. You know of any good places?”

Everett chuckled at how nonchalantly Jacob had shifted gears. “There used to be a place that did great cheesesteaks. I think it was called the Upper Room or the Upper Deck, overlooks PNC Park—where the Pirates play.”

“Sounds good.” Jacob walked around the corner. Everett lifted a bottle of spring water to his lips, drinking half of it. One of the arena workers—a tall, blond woman with red cheeks and freckles—approached him hesitantly.

After being in the limelight for more than a decade, Everett could detect autograph seekers by their body language alone. This woman held out her Living Water poster.

“I’ll be glad to,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Beverly. My friends just call me Bev. But this isn’t for me; it’s for my son.”

“I bet you didn’t know, Bev, that my niece did the watercolor on this poster. Her name is—”

“Madison,” she interrupted, smiling. “I know. I read it on there, in the small print. Plus, my son already knew all about it. He knows everything about you. Chad’s his name.”

Everett chuckled.

“I just wanted you to know, too, that Chad was…well, he was a bad one. Oh, forgive me.” Her face scrunched up and turned red from the sentiment. “You…your music…he just loves you. And he loves God, because of you and what you stand for.”

Words like that kept him going. “That means so much to me, Bev. Thanks for sharing that. Will Chad be here tonight?”

“He sure will.” She grinned. “He’s meeting me down here later when he gets off work.”

Just as Everett’s cell phone rang, he signed:
“Dear Chad—thanks for your support. Together, let’s keep pressin’ on till Jesus comes. Your friend, Everett Lester. Matthew 11:28–30.”

He answered the phone. “This is Everett.”

“Hey, little brother.”

“Hey, Mary.” He waved good-bye to Bev. “What goes on?”

“Jerry and I can come to the show in Cinci!”

“Very cool.”

“Can we meet and break bread and get backstage?” She giggled.

“Love it. Let me have Jacob call you to let you know where we’re staying. He’ll get your passes and all that.”

“You holding up?”

“Doin’ okay.” He decided not to tell her about the call from Margaret Badino. “Can’t wait to get out there tonight. A lot of other chaos is swirlin’ around, but when I’m playing and sharing, that’s when I feel most in tune with God.”

He stood and walked onstage, picturing the arena packed with people.

“Ev, I had a dream last night. I’m not going to tell you what it was about, so don’t bother asking. But afterward, I got up and prayed. Then I couldn’t sleep, so I read for a while. Can I just share something with you, real quick?”

“Sure. Let’s hear it.”

He envisioned a gunman in the front row, only five feet from the stage.

“Okay, now remember, you know it’s not like me to go around plying people with Scripture and telling them, the Lord sayeth.”

He offered a polite laugh. “I know. Come on. Give it to me.”

“It’s in Psalm 140. Do you mind if we kind of say it like a prayer?”

“That sounds good.” Everett walked farther onto the stage, crossed one arm, and closed his eyes.

“‘Lord, deliver me from evil men,’” Mary’s voice was clear and strong. “‘Preserve me from the violent, who plot and stir up trouble all day long… Keep me out of their power… Let their plots boomerang. Let them be destroyed by the very evil they have planned for me. Let burning coals fall down upon their heads, or throw them into the fire, or into deep pits from which they can’t escape.’”

The phone call ended, and Everett looked up. The gunman from his imagination was gone, and so were his fears. At least for now, anyway.

“What the heck are you doin’ here?” Wesley opened the door slightly, and Tony barged into the room with a small leather bag slung over his shoulder.

“Let’s get this party started!”

“Dude,” Wesley closed the door and followed him in, “we got a show tonight. I told you—”

“I know what you told me. And I also know what you
want.
” He spread the bag open on the bedspread and pulled out a small baggie full of yellowish crystal. “You wanna induuuuulge.”

“You flew with that?” Wesley found his white T-shirt, threw it on, and tried to figure out how to get rid of this maniac.

“In the bag I checked. Along with some other goodies.”

“You’re dang lucky.” Pulling on his baggy cargo jeans, Wesley stepped closer to the bed, secretly admiring Tony’s stash while being bombarded by the “warning triggers” they’d taught him about at Horizons. “You alone?”

“Yeah. That weasel Brubaker was supposed to come, but he wimped out. Mama’s boy.”

Within minutes, Tony’s coat was on the chair, and he was seated on the floor leaning against the bed with his legs crossed in front of him. Holding a meth-packed silver pipe in one hand, he masterfully waved his flaming Zippo beneath the bowl, heating it until the crystal began to smoke.

“Ah. Smell that?” He snickered. “Been a while for you. I bet you’re ab-so-lute-ly dy-ing.”

There was no avoiding the familiar smell. Probably putrid to the unknowing onlooker, it hit Wesley like sheer seduction and sent him back to a thousand all-nighters.

“Come on, dude.” Tony puffed and toked. “This thing is firin’ on all cylinders.”

Wesley turned his back and pulled a dark green sweater over his head, then moved slowly toward a chair to put his socks and boots on. “What are you doing here?”

Tony held the smoke in his lungs and talked quickly and quietly at the same time. “You sit down with me and take a hit and I’ll tell ya.”

The phone rang.

“Yeah?” Wesley welcomed the distraction.

“Hey, brother,” Madison said. “How you doing?”

“Okay,” He looked around, realizing he’d just lied. “What’s up?”

“We’re having dinner early. A place called the Upper Deck. Uncle Everett says you’re gonna love the cheesesteak; they’re famous for it. Meet us in the lobby at five?”

He looked at the clock by the bed. Ten to four. “Sure.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Tony and the smoking bowl. “Just wakin’ up…”

“See you downstairs.”

After hanging up, Wesley walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. “Tell me why you’re here,” he said, with his face in one of the big white towels. “I gotta get going soon.”

When he looked in the mirror, Tony was right behind him. “I said, do a bump with me, then I’ll tell you what I’m doing here.” He waved the smoking bowl in circles beneath Wesley’s nose.

“Get that outta my face.” Wesley spun away.

Tony’s eyebrows arched, and his face contorted with rage. “Don’t tell me Lester’s gotten to you.” He swept the coffeemaker, glasses, and toiletries off the granite counter in one fell swoop, sending them shattering and bouncing to the tile floor. “He’s taken David! Now, you?”

“Dude, look.” Wesley gulped. “I need to try this—”

“You can’t do it, Lester!” Tony’s nasty, twitching, demon-face was three inches from his. “It’s
not
gonna last. You know that?
You’re one of us!”

Wesley looked around, dazed. “Who’s ‘us’?”

Tony’s head dropped back with a ghoulish laugh.

Standing amid the broken glass, Wesley felt reality slipping away.

He looked in the mirror. Tony was howling, while his own face wore a peaked scowl. His face and neck were covered with red splotches from where he’d itched. Now he knew how David must have felt. It had been a despicable existence. And like his brother, Wesley wanted to be set free. Whether that meant getting high or dying, he just didn’t know anymore. He didn’t care.

“Come in here and do what you really wanna do!” Tony marched back into the bedroom, and Wesley followed like a zombie.

“Gimme that.” Wesley grabbed the hot pipe, took it to his mouth with trembling hands, hit it long, and held the lethal fumes deep in his chest. “Whoa.” The room spun like a merry-go-round as he opened his mouth in the shape of an O and exhaled like a fire-breathing dragon.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Tony cackled. “Go ’head. Load up. You deserve it.”

Wesley plunked down on the bed.

“Where you headed?” Tony dropped into the chair next to him.

Wesley ignored him, savoring another enormous hit.

“I said, where’re you off to?”

“Dinner, supposedly.” Wesley smirked. “But now, I’m not so sure.”

They both laughed, and Tony waved for Wesley to keep the pipe.

It must have been five minutes later, after Wesley had fired up the remainder of the bowl, that Tony leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m here to make a hit.”

“A hit?” Wesley chuckled. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

Tony glared at him, that wicked eye twitching again. “What do you think I’m talkin’ about?”

“Dude, take it easy.” Wesley’s stomach bottomed out, and his face ignited with a hot flash. “What’s goin’ on?”

“What’s goin’ on is, I’m here to do the deed on your uncle. And I’m gonna need your help.”

38

AFTER THE SOUND CHECK
, Everett and Karen met back at the hotel room, finished cleaning up, and eased down on the king-size bed, lying on their sides, face-to-face.

“You okay?” She ran her fingers through his dark hair.

“Tired, for some reason.”

“You sure that’s all?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t.

“I guess I’m just feeling a lot of pressure.” He closed his eyes.

She squeezed the back of his neck, then massaged his shoulders. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

He pursed his lips and looked her in the eye. “I got a call from Margaret Badino before the sound check.”

Karen sat up. The massage stopped. “And…”

“She thinks Tony might be following us.”

“What?” Karen shouted, then stared at him as the words seemed to buzz through her bloodstream.

“She found some notes he wrote, about plane tickets and cities.” Everett sat up, too. “His suitcase is gone. He’s gone. He had all of our tour cities written down.”

Karen stood and whirled around. “I can’t believe this! We are literally being tracked down by this…this Satanist!”

“I’ve already discussed it with your dad. He’s telling security. They’ll pass out a photo…”

Karen’s hands covered her mouth and nose as she wandered about the room, trying to keep her composure.

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay.” Everett went to her. “God loves us.” He turned her toward him and smiled. “Isn’t that what you’ve been drilling into my head ever since you were a teenager? Look, I’m scared, but I’m also determined to leave this in His hands. It’s up to Him to protect us.”

Good!
She wrapped her arms around him.

“God’s put this thing in my heart, to sing and share Him. Remember what you wrote to me in prison? They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony? I know we’re where He wants us.”

Oh, how she needed to hear him take a stand and say those words. She’d grown so tired of being the spiritual leader in their house.

He looked into her eyes and held her cheek in the palm of his hand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She grasped his wrist. “I’m proud of you, Ev.”

They kissed for several moments, then Karen combed his hair behind his ear with her fingers. “You’d make such a good daddy, you know that?”

She searched his face for an initial, unspoken response. “Why shouldn’t we adopt, Ev?”

His striking brown eyes didn’t flinch. They were steady and true. “I’ve been waiting for you…to talk about it. I wanna know what you think.”

She took a deep breath and held his gaze. “I saw a little girl in the lobby, in a wheelchair—”

“I saw her, too.”

“I think about all that’s happened to us.” She placed her hand on his chest. “And I think, life’s too short. There are children out there, somewhere, who need a loving home, a godly home, and all the things we can provide.” Karen reached for his hand, interlocking their fingers.

“I’ve said all along, you’re going to make the world’s greatest mom, babe.”

She giggled. And then they laughed. It was a sweet release. Even though they both knew the enemy could be just beyond their hotel room door, suddenly it didn’t matter. For the moment, everything was right again. Everything was good.

Karen looked into the mirror and brushed her long blond hair while Everett changed shirts. In the reflection, she noticed he’d thrown on one of his favorite old faded T-shirts and begun putting things in his shoulder bag, as if he was dressed for the show.

She turned around and eyed the shirt. “Are you wearing that onstage?”

“Yep.” He continued stuffing things into his bag.

“What gives? I thought you didn’t want the tattoos to show.”

He came over and kissed her. “I am who God made me, and I’m gonna start livin’ like it.”

Karen’s insides swelled with gladness.

He returned her smile. “You think that’s good?”

“I think that rocks, honey!”