Sick as My Secrets “We had it all, this love so strong. Now everything we had is gone. If you could read my mind, you’d know I’ve crossed that line…” Prologue The house was dark inside, except for the bright flashes from a TV that had been left on. I called his name, but the only other voice I heard was Ryan Seacrest’s, coming from the Times Square broadcast on TV. My heart pounded as I followed the sound into the living room, worried about what I was going to find there. In the eerie, flickering light, I saw him lying on the couch. One hand was hanging limply over the side. His eyes were closed, his mouth half open. In that instant, I knew he had to be dead. As I came closer to the couch, my eyes swept over the scene, taking in the two pill containers sitting on the coffee table, along with an open bottle of tequila. All the breath rushed out of me as I sank to my knees at his side, looking down at his body in dismay. “Oh god…” I whispered. “Why would you do this to yourself?” But that was a stupid question to ask. I already knew the answer. Of course I knew why, and in that moment, I realized it was as much my fault as it was his. *** Chapter 1 Howie You know that game Jenga? The one where you build a tower out of wooden blocks and try not to be the one who makes it fall? The guys and I used to play it on the tour bus, back in the days when we still shared the same bus. It was one of many ways we’d pass the time while we traveled from one city to the next. The moving bus added an extra challenge that made it more fun – and also more frustrating. We’d have this really tall, sturdy tower built on the table, and we’d take turns sliding a block out of the bottom and adding it to the top, and everyone’s hand would be steady, and the tower wouldn’t even wobble, and then... BAM! Out of nowhere, the bus would hit a bump in the road, and the whole tower would come crashing down. Sometimes we’d just shake our heads and laugh, and other times we would scream and curse, but we’d always end up picking up the pieces and playing again. If you think about, life’s a lot like a game of Jenga. It can be going along just fine, and then BAM, you hit a bump in the road, and everything falls apart. That’s what happened to me, anyway. My life was good. Great, even. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but whose is? I’d made some mistakes, but who hasn’t? Still, I had a wife who loved me, two beautiful boys who’d made my life complete, and a successful singing career that was still going strong after twenty years. I had a lot to be thankful for and little to regret. Then it all came tumbling down. *** My downfall didn’t happen in London, but that’s where we were when the tower started to wobble. I guess it was fitting. After all, that was where I’d made the fateful mistake that would end up costing me everything. I’d tried to forget about that night, but the past has a way of coming back to bite you in the butt. Flash forward five months. It was November, and the Backstreet Boys were back in Europe to promote our latest single and upcoming European tour. We had been touring for almost six months straight, with little more than two weeks off in between legs, and tensions were running high. Although we were grateful to be celebrating twenty years together, we were also tired. Really tired. Our twentieth anniversary was a milestone, but it was also a reminder that we’d been at this a long time. We were all in our thirties and forties now, far from the kids we’d been when the group got together, and let me tell you: when you get to be forty, your body just doesn’t recover as quickly as it did at twenty. All that touring had taken its toll on us. I usually love traveling, but even I was feeling pretty ragged and run-down at that point. Nick said he felt the same way. He had been complaining about having the flu, but I thought that was just a convenient excuse he’d made up to avoid me. I had hoped things wouldn’t be weird between us, but the two weeks we’d spent apart after the cruise just wasn’t enough time to heal the wounds I’d inflicted upon him on that boat. I felt bad about it, but I’d already apologized. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t take it back. I wish I could, especially now. All of this is my fault. So, anyway, things were awkward, but Nick’s “I’m sick” story kept the other guys from asking too many questions. They bought it when he said he would rather stay in his hotel room and sleep than go out with us, but I knew the truth: he was afraid to be around me after we’d both been drinking. After what happened on the cruise, I can’t say I blamed him. But even though he had his reasons, it hurt. It still hurts, though he has even more reason to reject me now. But back to our time in London. We were making an appearance on The X-Factor that night, and it was as we were backstage, getting ready, that my phone rang. I looked down and saw that it was Leigh, my wife, calling, so of course I answered it. “Hi, honey.” “Howie?” Her voice sounded shaky, and I could tell she’d been crying. Right away, my heart leaped into my throat. “Leigh? What’s wrong?” She sniffled, then laughed a little. “Was it that obvious? I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t want to worry you, and I hope I’m not interrupting anything important, but I just had to call.” “No, it’s okay. We’re at The X-Factor , getting ready for our performance, but I’ve got some time to talk.” I walked away from the other guys, who were goofing around in the green room, and found a quiet corner where I could hear her better. “What’s going on?” I asked, not knowing that her next words would turn my world upside down. “I’m at the hospital with Holden. He’s sick, really sick. They think he’s got pneumonia.” My heart skipped a beat as I thought of my baby boy being in the hospital. “Oh, no …” I said, and that got the attention of all of the guys, who looked over at me in concern. “What’s wrong?” Kevin mouthed, but I shook my head and turned around, cupping the phone closer to my ear. “When did this happen?” I asked, my mind racing. I remembered her saying something the other day about Holden having a cold, which wasn’t uncommon with a three-year- old in the house – like most toddlers, James was a magnet for germs – but pneumonia? That was a whole different thing. “He’s had a cough for the last few days, but when he woke up from his nap this afternoon, he was wheezing. I got scared and took him to the emergency room, and they ran some tests and are going to admit him.” “Oh, god…” I felt sick to my stomach, imagining Holden in a hospital bed and poor Leigh pacing back and forth in the hallway as she spoke to me. “Honey, I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this on your own. I wish I was there with you.” Right then, I just wanted to hold her in my arms, not try to comfort her over the phone. “How are you holding up?” “Okay.” She sniffled again. “Your mom offered to take James for the night, so that helps. I wish you were here, too, though.” “Do you want me come home? I could probably catch a red-eye out of here tonight.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Kevin, Brian, AJ, and Nick all staring at me, mouths open, brows creased, eyes wide with worry. I offered an apologetic shrug. “Oh, Howie, I don’t want you to have to do that,” said Leigh. “You should stay and finish your promo stuff. Your fans will be devastated if you don’t show up to the rest of your appearances.” It was just like my wife to worry about the fans’ feelings when she was the one dealing with a sick child. But then, she had been a fan herself, back when I first met her, when she was working on our website. She understood how our fans thought, which was one of the many things I loved about her. I smiled and shook my head. “Honey, if I have to miss a few gigs for something like this, they’ll understand.” “Still…” I could hear the hesitation in her voice. “I don’t want you to just hop on a plane and hurry back here for nothing. I don’t know how serious this is yet, but I do know that Holden’s in good hands.