Chapter 70

“Are you sure you’re gonna be all right?”

Glancing up from the pile of clean underwear she had just put in my suitcase, Dawn gave me a look. “Kevin, please. I appreciate your concern, but, like I told you the last time we had this conversation, I’ll be fine.”

“I know. Forgive me for being such a worrywart,” I said, shooting her an apologetic grin. “It’s just that you haven’t even been out of the hospital for a whole month yet…”

It had been almost two weeks since Dawn had returned home, and I was getting ready to head back to L.A. for a photo shoot and one final recording session for the new album. Natalie was going with me, but since Mason had school, he would be staying in Lexington with Dawn. It had been a long time since I’d worried about leaving him alone with his nanny. While I trusted Dawn completely, I couldn’t stop my mind from conjuring up various worst-case scenarios in which her newly-diagnosed heart condition kept her from being able to take care of my kid. What if she suddenly collapsed again or, worse, passed out while driving with Mason in her car? The fear that something bad would happen to one or both of them while I was gone had kept me awake the night before.

“Yes, and I’ve followed my doctor’s orders every day since,” Dawn said patiently as she added several pairs of socks to my suitcase. “I’ve been taking my meds on time and monitoring my weight, heart rate, blood pressure, and sodium intake. What else do you want me to do to prove to you that I’m not going to drop dead the minute you wheel out the door?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure there’s anything else you can do. But it’s not your problem; it’s mine. You’ve been doing great. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

“You’re definitely being paranoid,” she replied, offering me a reassuring smile. “But I get it.”

Paranoid or not, I pulled Mason aside that night to make sure he knew what to do in case of an emergency. “Not that anything like this is going to happen, but what would you do if Dawn fell down or fainted again, like she did that day in Georgia?” I asked him.

“Call 911,” he answered promptly.

“That’s right,” I replied, feeling reassured. “Then you’d call Daddy. And if I didn’t answer right away, who would you call next?”

“Mammaw.” He pointed to the picture of my mom on the emergency contact list Dawn had helped me make for him. It had been her idea to include photos next to the names and phone numbers of the people on the list, mostly family members and a few close friends that I could count on to come and pick up Mason in the midst of a crisis. Having a photo of each familiar face would help him find the number he needed faster than trying to read the names.

“Very good. Do you wanna try it?”

I had him practice dialing my cell phone number from the landline. Then we did some roleplaying over the phone. Pretending to be a 911 dispatcher, I asked Mason for his address, which he had memorized in preschool. Just in case he forgot, I had printed it next to a picture of our house at the top of the emergency list, but he was able to recite it correctly without looking.

“That was perfect! I’m proud of you, son,” I said, giving him a fist bump. “You’ll be the man of the house again while I’m gone, so I want you to look after Dawn for me, okay?”

“I will, Dad,” he promised solemnly. I didn’t doubt that he would behave better for Dawn than he had for Natalie.

I slept easier that night, knowing I had done everything I could to ensure that both Mason and Dawn would be taken care of while I was away.

***

The next day, Natalie and I boarded a plane and flew to L.A. like we’d planned. Despite my reservations, it was a relief to escape the cold and leave the gloomy, gray clouds over Kentucky behind. Although we still had a few more weeks left of winter, it already felt like late spring in Southern California, where the air was warm, the sun was shining in the clear blue sky, and the ground was covered with colorful wildflowers.

“Perfect day for an outdoor shoot,” I said to Natalie as she drove me to the set the following morning. I had put down the passenger side window, so I could smell the fresh air and feel the warm breeze ruffling my hair while I navigated.

“Mm-hm… beautiful,” she murmured vaguely, staring straight ahead. I noticed the way her jaw was clenched, her two hands clutching the wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

“It’ll be nice to get out of the city for a while, won’t it?” I added knowingly, wishing I had invested in another wheelchair-accessible vehicle that I could drive myself instead of the one I’d bought for her to use when she was in town. Clearly, four months had not been enough time for her to acclimate to driving a modified minivan in L.A. traffic.

As the cars in front of us slowed to a crawl, Natalie hissed in a sharp breath through her gritted teeth and slammed her foot down on the brake. “Sorry!” she said, flinging her arm out in front of me as my upper body lurched forward in my chair, the seat belt catching me hard across the chest. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” Imagining the pains that must have been shooting through her injured ankle made me cringe. Three weeks after spraining it in Aspen, she was finally able to put weight on her right foot without wearing my old walking cast, but it was still tender. The doctor had told her that it could take a few more weeks for her torn ligament to fully heal.

“Uh-huh.” Natalie let out a shaky laugh. “You know, I used to think rush hour in Atlanta was bad, but it’s nothing compared to this!”

“I know. Thanks for agreeing to be my chauffeur,” I said, giving her a grateful smile.

She glanced over at me, smiling back. “Hey, if it means I get to watch you work, I’m happy to do it. Thanks for letting me tag along today.”

“No problem,” I replied, hoping the other guys wouldn’t mind her coming to the photo shoot with me. I knew none of their wives or girlfriends would be there, but they didn’t need help getting dressed like I did. “You’ll make a great P.A.”

In spite of the traffic, we arrived on time and in one piece. Only Nick and Howie had beat us there. “Wassup, fellas?” I greeted them as I rolled into the sunlit room where our manager, Jenn, and stylist, Nicole, were busy organizing shoeboxes on a wooden table. Two portable racks of clothing had been pushed in front of a pair of French doors, and a second table displayed a collection of fedoras that was probably even bigger than the one AJ had in his closet at home. “You think we have enough hats to choose from?” I asked Natalie in an undertone, making her giggle.

“Hey, Kev!” Howie came over to give me a hug. “How’s it going?”

“Can’t complain,” I replied, patting him on the back. “Congratulations, brother! How does it feel to be a dad again?”

Howie grinned with pride as he let go of me and straightened up. “Great! Although, having two kids does make it twice as hard to leave home,” he admitted, his smile fading slightly.

“I’ll bet – especially when your youngest is barely a week old,” I said sympathetically, secretly glad I hadn’t been a Backstreet Boy when Mason was born. While I was happy to be back in the group, I would never regret stepping away for a few years to start my family.

“Eleven days today,” Howie said, taking out his phone to show me the latest photo of his newborn son, Holden John.

“Aww, he’s adorable!” Natalie exclaimed as she leaned over my shoulder to look at a picture of Howie’s older son, James, holding his baby brother. “His hair looks so light!”

“I know! Of course, it could still darken, but right now, he looks like he’s gonna be a little towhead,” Howie said, chuckling. “I must have passed down some of my dad’s Irish genes.”

“He reminds me of Mason,” I said, swallowing the lump that had swelled in my throat as I looked at the picture. I missed my son already – and his momma even more. “How’s Leigh doing?”

“Amazing!” Howie replied. “She’s tired, of course, but doing just fine otherwise. Her mom flew down from New Jersey to stay at the house with her and help out while I’m out of town.”

“That’s good. And how does James feel about being a big brother?”

“So far, so good! He likes helping Mommy and Dada with Holden,” Howie said, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

“Y’all are blessed, man,” I said, smiling up at him. “I hope I’ll be able to give Mason a sibling someday.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to make that happen, one way or another.” Howie gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder, his eyes shifting pointedly to my girlfriend. “Nice to see you again, Natalie.”

She smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “You too, Howie! Hope y’all don’t mind me tagging along with Kevin today.”

“Not at all,” he said, grinning back good-naturedly.

“She’s just here to help me with wardrobe changes and drive the cripmobile,” I explained.

“Kevin! I wish you’d quit calling it that,” Natalie said, shaking her head.

Across the room, Nick cackled. “Cripmobile… I kinda like it. It sounds cool,” he said with a grin as he rose from the couch and walked over to us. “Just don’t say it in South Central – people will think you’re talking about the other kind of Crip.”

I laughed. “Wasn’t there an episode of South Park about that?”

“The one where Christopher Reeve cracks open aborted fetuses and slurps their stem cells?” Nick replied with a crooked grin.

“What?!” Natalie, clearly not a South Park fan, looked revolted.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” I could remember laughing when I watched that episode for the first time, years before Mason was born, years before I became a quadriplegic myself. Maybe I wouldn’t have found it so funny if I’d known what the future had in store for me. But after being paralyzed for five years, I could find humor in the absurdity of it all.

Natalie, apparently, could not. Seeing the horrified look on my girlfriend’s face, I was about to change the subject when Nick beat me to it. “Speaking of crips,” he said, turning his attention to her. “How’s your ankle, Nat? No crutches, I see.”

“No, I don’t need them anymore. I’m still using a brace for extra stability,” she said, lifting the leg of her flowy palazzo pants to show him the compression wrap she wore around her right foot, “but I can finally walk on it again.”

“That’s good. Glad you’re almost healed.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, I cleared my throat. “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you congratulations, too, Nick. I told you she would say yes.”

The big news had broken over the weekend: Nick Carter, the last Backstreet bachelor, had finally gotten engaged to his girlfriend of four years.

He grinned back at me, his blue eyes glowing with an expression of pure joy. “Thanks for the encouragement – from both of you, actually,” he said, glancing over at Howie. “I asked Howie for advice, too, and he was like, ‘Just do it!’ So… I did it.”

Nick was still regaling us with the tale of his proposal, telling us how his broken-down boat had stalled four times on the way to the private island where he had taken Lauren to pop the question, when Brian and AJ walked in. They were accompanied by famed photographer Tyler Shields, a friend of AJ’s, who had agreed to shoot our album cover.

After a round of greetings and introductions, we all sat down to go over the plan for the day again. “So, like I told you, I did some scouting and found the perfect location for the desert shoot I’ve been picturing,” Tyler told us. “Bombay Beach – it’s a little ghost town by the Salton Sea, about sixty miles south of Palm Springs. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive from here.”

We had all liked the idea Tyler had proposed to do a shoot in the desert. “It seems like a fitting place to represent where you guys are at this point in your career,” he’d explained during one of our conference calls. “You know, you’ve all gone through personal and professional struggles since the last album you released as a group of five. But you didn’t just survive; you adapted and thrived. And now, here you are, about to celebrate your twentieth anniversary together and release your first album as independent artists, free from the constraints of being tied to a record company that cares more about money than music. You can do whatever you want. So what I’m envisioning is a series of creative shots in a wide, open, desert landscape that will capture that wild, indie spirit and sense of longevity…”

“It’s a really cool, unique-looking place,” Tyler added. “My only concern is that the terrain can be pretty rugged – in other words, not so easy to navigate in a wheelchair.” He pursed his lips, offering me an apologetic look.

I felt my face heat up as everyone else in the room followed suit, their eyes shifting to me, too. For a few seconds, no one seemed to know how to respond. In the silence, my mind raced. While I had never been to Bombay Beach before, I didn’t doubt that it would be difficult for me to wheel myself around in the Sonoran Desert. But if I shot down Tyler’s idea, he would have to find a different location, which would delay the shoot. Howie had left his postpartum wife and newborn son to fly all the way out here from Florida for this. I couldn’t ask him to do that again. I wished one of the other guys would speak up for me, but, instead, they just stared at me, waiting to see what I would say first.

“Well, I don’t wanna be the one to hold us back or ruin your vision,” I said finally, looking around at the others. “Almost everyone here has had to help me at some point or another, so as long as y’all are willing to do some pushing or heavy lifting, we can probably find a way to make it work.”

“Of course, bro,” Nick replied without hesitation. “We’re here for you. Whatever you need – right, fellas?”

The other guys all nodded in agreement. Howie and Brian looked relieved. I knew that, like me, neither of them wanted to be away from their families any longer than necessary.

“We’ll figure it out, Kev,” said AJ. “We always do.”

I didn’t feel as confident as he sounded, but I forced myself to nod. Trust the process, I told myself, putting my faith in my four bandmates and our photographer. I didn’t know Tyler well, but I knew my brothers would never let me down.

With that decision made, it was time to discuss the next one: what to wear. As it turned out, Tyler had a vision for that, too. “Bombay Beach was a popular resort destination back in the fifties, before the Salton Sea became too salty and polluted to support wildlife. All the dead fish must have scared people away,” he told us. “But, before that, it was a hot spot for entertainers like Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and the Beach Boys. So I’m thinking we should go for a classic Rat Pack kind of look with suits and ties.” He showed us a faded photo of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Peter Lawford, and Joey Bishop wearing suits outside on a sunny day.

“Ah… so that’s why there are so many fedoras,” said Howie, giving the hat table a knowing glance. “I thought they were all for AJ.”

“Hey, I don’t have to wear hats all the time anymore!” AJ replied with a grin, running his hand over his head of thick, black hair. It was longer than Howie’s and fuller than Brian’s by then, over a year after his transplant.

“You look great without one,” I told him, knowing how self-conscious he had been about going bald. “Might as well show off your new ‘do.”

In the end, that was why we decided not to wear hats with the suits we selected from the collection Nicole had put together for us. Natalie helped me change into mine. “You’ve got that sexy James Bond look going on again,” she said, giving me a sultry grin as she straightened my tie. “I love seeing you all dressed up like this.”

“Thanks, babe.” Despite my lingering reservations about the location for our photo shoot and the physical challenges I might face there, I felt good in the tailored, black, two-piece suit. Nicole had really listened to my requests and taken my needs into consideration when she and her team had customized it for me, lengthening the hem of the pants so that they wouldn’t look like high-waters when I was sitting down and cutting the jacket shorter so that it wouldn’t bunch up or get in the way of my wheels. The fabric had plenty of stretch to accommodate both my quad belly and the range of motion my upper body required in order to maneuver my chair, making it so I could keep my jacket closed across my middle and push myself around without worrying about popping off a button or busting a seam. It was flattering, too. For once, I actually liked what I saw when I looked at myself in the mirror. It made me feel better about the whole shoot.

“Looking good, Kevy Kev!” AJ exclaimed as he came up behind me, clapping his hands down on my shoulders. He had picked out a flashy, black-and-gold brocade jacket and bow tie to go with the white dress shirt and black pants we were all wearing.

“Thanks. You too, brother,” I said, smiling at his reflection.

Nick had also opted for something showy – a sparkly black jacket – while Howie and Brian had gone with more conservative options. They gathered around AJ and me in front of the mirror, so we could see how the five of us looked together.

“I like it,” said Howie, and everyone else agreed. We all preferred coordinating outfits that still allowed us to express our individual styles over completely identical looks.

Once we had finalized our wardrobe for the shoot, our hair and makeup artist, Carly, went to work on us.

“I hope it’s not too hot in the desert today, or this makeup’s just gonna melt right off our faces,” I said, checking my reflection in the mirror on the back of my sun visor as Natalie drove the van out of L.A.

“I checked the weather while you were getting it done,” she replied, glancing my way. “Looks like it’s gonna be in the upper seventies this afternoon.”

“That’s not bad,” I said with a sense of relief. My body’s temperature regulation issues often made me feel like Goldilocks. Anything above eighty degrees was too hot, while anything below sixty was too cold. The seventies were just right.

“Are you kidding, dawg?” Nick called from the back row of seats. He and Howie had offered to ride with Natalie and me while the others went in one of the two black Range Rovers Jenn had rented to transport us down to Bombay Beach. “We’re gonna be sweating our balls off in these black suits!”

I chuckled. “Speak for yourself. My balls don’t really sweat anymore.”

“Well, I guess that’s one perk of being paralyzed,” Howie piped up. When I glanced up into the mirror again, he caught my eye and winked.

“Oh, come on,” I said, grinning back at his reflection. “Aren’t you two from Florida? Even seventy-nine is nothing without humidity. We’re in the desert; it’s a dry heat!”

“Sure feels nice to me compared to the weather in Kentucky,” said Natalie. “I can’t stand the cold.”

“That makes two of us,” I agreed, pushing the sun visor back up toward the roof of the van so I could gaze out the windshield at the palm trees that lined both sides of the freeway, standing tall against a backdrop of bright, blue sky and hazy mountains in the distance. “Every winter, I wonder why I left California.”

“I miss it sometimes, too,” said Howie, who had sold his home in West Hollywood a couple of years earlier. “But Leigh and I love Cape Canaveral. It’s more family-friendly than L.A.”

“Yeah… so is Lexington. But I hate having to leave Mason behind when I come out here to work. It’s harder now that he’s in school.”

“I know the feeling,” Howie replied. “You ever think about moving back?”

“I dunno… maybe someday,” I said, stealing a glance at Natalie. Staring straight ahead, she didn’t seem to notice.

As we traveled southeast toward Palm Springs, the distant mountains grew closer, and the towering palm trees gave way to scrubby brush, the landscape gradually becoming less green and more brown – but still beautiful.

“Kevin, look!” Natalie said suddenly, pointing out her window. “Mason would love to stop there, wouldn’t he?”

Following her gaze, I saw two large dinosaurs – a brontosaurus and a T-Rex – standing guard over the Shell station and Burger King on either side of them. “Yeah, he would,” I said, smiling. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind stopping there either. I should probably use the facilities before we get much further from civilization. Not sure how many decent accessible bathrooms we’ll be able to find in Bombay Beach.”

“I think we already missed the exit for it,” Natalie said apologetically, “but we can stop at the next place that looks clean.”

We made a pit stop near Palm Springs, where Nick offered to refill the van’s fuel tank for me while I went inside to empty my bladder.

Once we were back on the road, the last hour of our drive passed quickly. There was no traffic on the two-lane highway that had been built along the eastern shore of the Salton Sea, so Natalie drove well above the speed limit, trying to catch up to the others. “I don’t like it here,” she said, frowning as she pushed the accelerator further into the floor. “I mean, it’s beautiful, in a way, but also kinda scary. We’re basically in the middle of nowhere. If the van broke down, we’d be stranded.”

“Yeah… it is a pretty desolate place,” I agreed, looking around. To our left, a set of railroad tracks ran parallel to the road, but we didn’t see a single train. On our right, there was nothing but miles of rocky beach, dotted by the occasional sign for an abandoned campground. They were the only signs of civilization in a long stretch of otherwise empty desert.

But, gradually, we began to see other signs: power lines, telephone poles, even a cell tower. “We must be getting pretty close,” said Howie from the back seat.

I nodded, noticing a cluster of low buildings and trees surrounding the cell tower. “That’s gotta be it up ahead,” I replied, pointing out my window.

“And, look! There’s the rest of the group!” Sounding relieved, Natalie slammed on the brakes and pulled over onto the side of the road, where the two black Range Rovers were parked. AJ stood next to one of them, smoking a cigarette.

Brian sat on the edge of the open hatchback, bent over his phone. When he looked up and spotted us, he stood up and waved, slipping his phone into his back pocket as he trotted over to the van. “Hey, cuz! Where ya been?” he called out, his voice cracking, as I rolled down my window to talk to him. “We were starting to worry y’all might’ve gotten lost somewhere along the way.”

“Nah… just stopped to use the restroom,” I replied with a shrug. “But, you know, that takes me a good ten minutes on top of the time it takes just to get in and out of the damn van, so… sorry we’re late.”

AJ was quick to come to my defense. “That’s okay, bro. We’re just glad you guys made it,” he said, grinning as he walked up behind Brian. “Isn’t this place great?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” said Howie, wrinkling his nose. Now that he’d mentioned it, I also noticed the distinct odor wafting through my open window, an unpleasant blend of sulfur and dead fish. Not even the smoke from AJ’s lit cigarette could disguise it.

“It’s definitely unique,” I said, looking toward the small town in the distance. “So, why did y’all stop here? I thought we were going all the way into Bombay Beach.”

“We are, but Tyler wants to take some photos of us on the road first.”

“On the road?” Natalie repeated. “Doesn’t that seem a little dangerous?”

“Considering we’ve only seen a couple of cars go by in the last ten minutes? Nah.” Waving her concern aside, AJ clapped his hands. “C’mon, Kevy Kev, let’s get rolling.”

Nick and Howie helped unhook the straps that held my wheelchair in place while Natalie went around to open the sliding door and lower the ramp for me. I rolled out onto a patch of gravel that gradually transitioned into scrubby, sandy soil. Straight ahead of me lay the Salton Sea, California’s largest lake. In spite of the cloudless blue sky overhead, a strange haze hung over the water, which appeared to blend right into the low mountains that rose from the horizon on its western shore.

Outside the van, the sunlight was even brighter, and the smell was even stronger. “Damn… it stanks out here!” I declared after inhaling my first deep breath of not-so-fresh “sea” air.

Natalie wrinkled her nose. “Lord, that is noxious.”

“I guess you get used to it,” AJ said with a shrug. “Want a smoke?” He reached around to the back pocket of his suit pants to pull out his pack of cigarettes.

She hastily shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“Put it out, AJ. It’s time to take some photos!” Tyler announced as he emerged from the front SUV and walked over to us with his camera in hand. He was accompanied by a two-man crew, who were carrying the rest of his equipment. While they set up on the side of the road, Tyler sent Jenn and Carly walking in opposite directions to watch for cars. “Holler if you see something coming, so we can clear the road,” he told them as AJ reluctantly stamped out his cigarette.

Once we’d made sure the coast was clear, we went out into the middle of the two-lane highway, so Tyler could photograph the five of us walking – or, in my case, rolling – down the road. He took some shots from the front, then slipped around behind us to shoot some more from the back.

“TRUCK!” Carly called from her post. Looking up, I spotted the top of a semi-truck gleaming in the sunlight as it rounded the curve ahead. Before I could react, Brian darted behind me, grabbed my handles, and gave me a push, whisking me off the road with the others.

“Thanks, cuz… but I can push my own chair, you know,” I muttered.

“I know… but better safe than sorry,” Brian replied with a grin. “We don’t want you to become Roadkill Kevin.” The others laughed, but, in the background, I saw Natalie nodding in agreement. I laughed along with them and tried to contain my annoyance, knowing they were just watching out for me.

We waited on the shoulder for the semi to pass, pumping our arms like a bunch of schoolboys. The driver rewarded us with a short honk as he sped by, sending up a cloud of dust that forced our stylist, Nicole, to fetch her clothes brush from the back of one of the SUVs.

“These are looking great, guys,” said Tyler as he flipped through the photos on his camera. “Now I want to try something different. Brian’s comment gave me an idea: How about we have you all lie in the middle of the road?”

“Like roadkill?” asked AJ, raising his eyebrows.

“Exactly! It would represent how grounded you guys have remained in a literal way, while also allowing the whole group to get on the same level,” Tyler explained, then turned to me. “What do you think, Kevin? Would it work for you if we took a few photos without the wheelchair?”

I hesitated, wondering if I should be offended by his sudden desire to take photos of us “without the wheelchair,” as if my disability didn’t exist. Like it or not, my wheelchair had become an extension of my body. Without it, I would be stuck in one place. But, with it, I stuck out. “I dunno… you’re the photographer here, Tyler. If you think it’ll make for a cool picture, I’m willing to try it,” I replied, wanting to be a team player. “I’ll just need some help transferring.”

“That’s no problem, bro. We got you,” said Nick, motioning to himself and Brian.

I turned to Natalie. “Then you’re in charge of my chair, okay?” I didn’t want Tyler’s crew touching my wheelchair, but I trusted her to handle it with care.

“Okay, but… are you sure about this, babe?” she asked uneasily. “You’re really gonna lie on the road like a dead raccoon? What if a car comes?”

For some reason, her concern steeled my resolve. “Well, hopefully, these guys will drag my sorry ass off to safety before I get run over,” I replied flippantly, tipping my head toward the rest of the group.

She frowned. “What about pressure sores?”

“We won’t be lying there for that long – right, Tyler?” I added, looking over at him.

“Nah – maybe five, ten minutes tops. I should be able to get some good shots in that amount of time,” he assured me.

“All right. Then let’s go.”

Natalie reluctantly followed me as I rolled back out into the middle of the road, where Nick and Brian lifted me out of my chair and lowered me onto the pavement. They placed me on my belly, which seemed to be the best position to avoid pressure injuries, since it had more built-in padding than my back.

“You comfortable, Kev?” Brian asked as Nick stretched my legs out straight behind me.

“Not really,” I grunted, “but it’s only for a few minutes, right? I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Natalie muttered as she moved my wheelchair out of the way.

“Don’t worry,” Nick told her. “We won’t let Kevin get smooshed by a car.”

“Yeah, well, I still think this is stupid,” she said, shaking her head as she walked away.

“Natalie’s not wrong,” I heard Howie grumble as the rest of the group sprawled across the road. “This is really stupid.”

My head was turned the wrong way, so I couldn’t see what was happening behind me. I just had to trust that my brothers would have my back as I lay there facedown, listening to the click of Tyler’s camera.

Then I heard Jenn’s shout: “Clear the road! There’s a car coming!”

All around me, the guys sprang into action as Natalie ran onto the road with my wheelchair, screaming, “Get Kevin!” I felt hands grabbing me from behind, pulling me up onto my hands and knees. Then Nick lifted me off the ground and practically threw me into my chair.

“Watch his feet!” AJ had the forethought to put my feet on the footplates before Natalie pushed me to the shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked as we waited for the car to pass. “That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you.”

“I’m fine,” I said with a shrug, pretending that I had no problem with being hauled around like a sack of potatoes. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for everything the guys had done for me, nor did I want Tyler and his crew to peg me as the “difficult” one. My disability made things difficult enough as it was.

“Thank goodness. I don’t want you going back out there again,” she replied, reaching down to rub her right ankle. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Are you okay?” I asked her, realizing she might have tweaked her still-tender ankle in her rush to get me off the road.

“I’m fine,” she said shortly, then turned to Tyler. “Did you get some good pictures?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. I got what I needed,” he assured her, handing his camera to one of his assistants. “Let’s load up and head into town. We’ll take some more photos there.”

“Hopefully none that involve lying on the hard ground,” I heard Howie mutter as we made our way back to my van. “I dunno about you guys, but I’m getting too old for this.”

“Jeez, Howie, you haven’t even turned forty yet, and you’re already talking like a grumpy old man,” Nick teased him. “If anyone here has a reason to complain, it’s Kevin, but you don’t hear him bitching about it.”

“That’s ‘cause Kev’s a badass,” said AJ, clapping me on the shoulder.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, wondering what he would say if he knew how I really felt about the photo shoot so far. But I kept my thoughts to myself as we piled back into our vehicles and pulled back onto the desolate road that led to Bombay Beach.

***