Nightchild

Chapter 69

The next two concerts were cancelled and though a few newspapers were hard on Nate and a couple of promoters got up in the air about losing so much money, very little else was said. Eddie used good judgment for a change and stayed in Dallas, continuing with the preparations for the Welcome Home Concert, New Year's Eve, which was only a few days away. It was going to be recorded live for an album and a major cable station was filming it for playback at a later date. Chance Jennings was coming in from Hollywood and was going to do a couple of numbers with Nathan. The whole show was a boost for Nate's career and Eddie's pocketbook and the manager wanted to be certain everything was perfect.

When Vega first heard about the cancelled engagements, he almost had a coronary and drove himself to the emergency room where it was verified he'd had nothing more serious than an anxiety attack. When he left the hospital, he went to his office, called Heathe and gave him hell. Heathe's response had been, "So, sue!" and that had been the end of it. Now Eddie was getting concerned Nate wouldn't make it for the Dallas gig December thirty-first and he called Heathe again, who in a blundering moment of anger, let it slip about Destiny and Blythe.

Numb with grief, Nate felt he could go through with the concert and they had gone to the ranch where he could begin to heal and think. Heathe stayed with him, answering the constantly ringing phone, fending off would-be visitors, business associates and those just plain worried about Nate's health. Though in a distant manner, Nate took care of the things Heathe couldn't handle, Heathe was concerned and tried to talk him into calling the whole thing off. His boss refused, wouldn't discuss it and things continued like that until the day of the concert.

Heathe rose early, before the early morning light and as always went directly to Nate's room to check on him but he wasn't there, his bed hadn't been slept in and frantic, Heath ran through the house, calling his name, only to be answered by silence. He went to the garage and as he feared, Nate's Rover was gone. Hurriedly, he made a few phone calls but no one had heard from Nate. Finally, he checked the studio and stable but there was nothing, no indication the man had been there or where he was going.

Bewildered, he went back to the house and opening the door, rushed to the ringing phone. It was Eddie, wanting to be sure Nate would make it to the concert that night, wanting to talk to him personally. Heathe said he wouldn't wake him. Several more times Vega called before showing up at the house just past noon.

"Where the fuck's Nathan?" he demanded, brushing past Heathe and into the house.

"He doesn't wanna see you."

"I don't give a flying shit what he wants! Where the fuck is he?"

Heathe couldn't stand it anymore. "Get out! Now!"

"I don't have ta do shit!"

"Oh yeah?" Heathe said and swooping down on him like a bird of prey, he picked Eddie up by the scruff of the neck and his designer leather belt, carried him out and dropped him onto the veranda.

"You dumb mother fuckin' ape! You retard son-of-a-bitch, I'll—"

"You'll do nothin' but get outa here and not come back cuz I swear to you, I'd just as soon kill you as look at you again!" Towering over him, Heathe had to consciously control his rage. It would be so easy to take the little creature in his powerful hands and break him into pieces like the trash he was. He'd been forced to do it in Vietnam to protect himself. But now he would do it gladly and with relish.

"Stay away from me, you big moron! I could fuck over you when we were kids and I can fuck over you now."

Heathe coldly glared down at him a minute, his heart racing in his ears. "I'm finding something out about myself," he said evenly. "I'm finding out I'm not as nice as Nathan, because I know, creep, that I could kill you and I don't need a gun to do it. You as good as murdered Blythe and her child." He took a step forward and the scrawny man cringed.