over her swollen lips. Catching her gaze, I say, “We could do this every night if you come on tour with the band.”
She holds my gaze while silently processing what I’ve said. I silently hope she says yes.
And then my phone rings, changing everything
“Hi Mum,” I say as I answer it, still keeping my gaze locked to Presley’s, loving the way she’s started biting her lip.
“Jett.” Mum’s voice is off, and I’m instantly alert. “Tell me you’re in Brisbane,” she continues, her voice cracking on her last word.
Fuck.
I grip the phone harder as my heart starts beating faster in my chest.
My mother never gets worked up about stuff. She doesn’t panic or worry until it’s absolutely necessary.
She’s panicking right now.
I can hear it in her voice.
“I’m in Brisbane.”
Presley stills and her expression turns serious as she watches me take this call. She places her hand on my arm and I vaguely realise her touch doesn’t calm me like it usually does.
The noise surrounding me is suddenly claustrophobic and I push away from Presley and take a step back.
I need to get out of here.
“It’s your sister.” My mother says the words I never wanted to ever hear again and my legs almost give way.
The crowd is too much.
The noise is oppressive.
The heat is overwhelming.
I need to fucking get out of here.
“What?” I demand as I pull at the top of my t-shirt, urgently needing it off my skin.
I start walking towards the exit, desperately in need of fresh air and less noise.
She begins to cry and I know exactly what she’s called to tell me.
Fury blows through me like a fucking tornado and I want to explode from the anger.
“Mum, say it.” I try to force the words from her lips, not wanting to hear them, but needing to hear them in case I’m imagining the wrong words.
“She’s in the hospital,” she starts, and a sob tears through the phone. And then she says the one word I fucking hate the most in this world. The one word I want to obliterate from the English fucking language. “Her cancer is back.”
“Fuck!” I roar and turn and punch the wall.
No!
Mum’s voice is distant through the phone because I’ve blocked everything out. I drop my phone and punch the wall with my other hand.
This can’t be happening to Claudia again.
“Jett!” Presley’s voice filters through but I pay no attention. Her hand lands on my back and she calls my name again, “Jett.”
I turn to face her and find her concerned face staring at me. Waiting for me to tell her what’s going on.
Waiting for me to say that one fucking word I despise.
My voice is strangled when I finally speak. “Claudia has cancer again.”
I stand and stare back at her, the hopelessness bleeding from me.
Her hand flies to her mouth and she sucks in a breath. “Oh my God,” she exclaims.
I want to scream, “Where the fuck is your God?” but I don’t. The injustice of this smacks me in the face again and roots me to the spot, unable to form the words, so I simply stare back at her, my arms hanging limply by my side and my body ready to crumble.
Please don’t let it be true.
But I know it is.
“Jett!” West’s voice flows through the air and I wonder where he is. He sounds so close.
“Jett,” Presley says and gently shakes me.
And then I hear West again. His voice mingles with Presley’s, and I struggle to discern who is saying what. Their voices echo around me, bouncing off the walls, and I give up trying to understand what they’re saying. They’re obviously not talking to me because their words don’t make any sense.
Nothing fucking makes sense anymore.
“Jett!” Van’s hands grip my biceps and his booming voice snaps me to attention.
I blink and turn my attention to him. “What?”
“What the fuck has happened?” He shakes me, and his alarmed voice pierces my senses as I process his words.
I try to speak but my voice catches in my throat.
He shakes me again, more insistent this time. His wild eyes stare at me while he demands, “Tell me!”
Time and space stand still and the ringing in my ears stops. I open my mouth and finally tell him, “Claudia is in hospital. With cancer.”
Van’s body sags and his face twists with anguish. “Fuck.”
I nod. “Yeah, fuck.”
Because really, there’s nothing else to say.
21
Presley
Jett leads me through the corridors of the hospital as he stalks to his sister’s room. He took hold of my hand