A Postseason One Novella: Rock F*ck Club, #2 Read online

  "Angel, I don’t care to argue.” He made a preemptive attempt to cut off the protest he knew I was going to make. “Don’t be upset. You have to admit this is the way it must be.”

  “Of course I’m upset. And no I don’t agree that this is the way it has to be.” I took his hand without looking up. Amid the graffiti on the table, that very masculine hand could have been an advertisement for a rock ‘n roll jewelry company.

  Go through the motions, Raven. Do what needs to be done. I reached for the polish, shook it, twisted open the lid, withdrew the wand and wiped off the excess. Applicator ready, words in my mouth, it was time to speak them. Caressing his thumb like I had before, I lifted my gaze and got rocked just looking at him. At his inky dark tousled hair. Into those gorgeous sky-blue eyes framed by those thick black sooty lashes. But Lucky was more than a collection of handsome features. He was the sum of everything I always needed.

  "We're at an impasse, you and me. I want to stay, and you’re making me go." I painted his thumb.

  "It's not safe for you. We went over this already, Raven.”

  "I know we did. But I need things to be clear. We’ve been together as a couple for a while, and now we’re going to be apart.” I went for more polish, dipped, swiped and returned to his hand. Four strokes before I lifted my gaze. His lids were lowered, his eyes partially shuttered. "What are your expectations for me in the interim? For us?"

  “You mean for our relationship?”

  “Yes.”

  "I expect our relationship to go on, of course.” His expression turned hard. “Don’t you?"

  "Yes, it’s what I want more than anything. But how can it work with you out here on the road and me miles away in New York? What happens after I meet with Suzanne Smith? Where do I go then? Where do you want me to go?" I lowered my gaze, went for more polish repeating the procedure and returned to apply polish to his middle finger. A protracted silence descended like a heavy curtain. I painted his nail, held my breath and lifted my gaze.

  "That’s a lot of questions I don’t have precise answers for." Shadows, there were so many shadows inside his eyes. Burdens. Regrets. “I need time to work out the logistics. Are you saying you need to know now?"

  "I’ve done the separation from a boyfriend thing before. It didn’t turn out well. I don’t want to go through that again. If I agree to it, I need to know exactly what I’m in for." I felt the change in him. I could see it in his eyes.

  "I’m not Ivan Carl." His tone was as chilling as his gaze.

  "I know you’re not.” Ice dripped down my spine as I went for more polish. “But you have to admit the situations are similar." No hiding. No games. I put it all out there for him to see. "Worst case scenario. What if you never think it’s safe for me to return to the tour?" I lowered my eyes, afraid so very afraid to push him right now. But our relationship was too vital to me not to clarify.

  "You want me to decide our entire future? Right here? Right now?"

  "Yes." I froze solid.

  "Based on a hypothetical?"

  "Yes." I re-dipped the wand. I swiped. I finished his hand. I stroked his skin with my thumb. My chest was so tight now I could barely breathe. When I lifted my gaze, I found myself rocked again, only this time in a not so good way. He was angry.

  "You do realize how unreasonable this sounds, Angel. How impertinent?" He withdrew his hands. His abrupt motion rattled the table. The bottle of polish spilled. I watched the inky black puddle spread. I gulped around the sudden knot in my throat. It felt like a bad omen.

  “I didn’t mean it to be demeaning.” I pushed back from the table, too. I stood and wrapped my arms around myself. "I was only sharing a legitimate concern. I have a right to ask. You know I don't like uncertainty." It swirled around me, between us like an invisible shield.

  "What in the bloody hell do you think it means when I tell you every single day how much I love you?" His gaze was as unwavering as his words. "And today when I told you I would spend every minute with you if I could? And that your safety is paramount?"

  “I’m sorry.” His certainty rattled the shield. "I shouldn’t let what happened to me in my past color our relationship." His eyes remained icy, but there was some thawing. "But you’re asking a lot of me.” My lips trembled.

  "Raven.” He came close and lifted my chin. His rings were cold against my skin as he stroked my cheek. “The circumstances might be similar, but the players are different. Don’t you know me well enough by now to know you can trust me? That you can trust where this is going between us?"

  LUCKY FLIPPED ON the Ducati turn indicator. I laid my head against his leather jacket, tightened my hold around his waist and pressed my body deeper into his. Not because the ramp was particularly steep, but because we were at the exit for the Atlanta Hartsfield Airport and because my life was about to take a sharp turn. He would drop me off in a couple of minutes and nothing was resolved between us.

  I had to trust him or not.

  It was all on me.

  And I was feeling far from confident.

  The tearful goodbyes with Sky and the guys had only added to the jumble of my emotions. I didn’t want to leave. And I was worried about what Suzanne Smith had planned for me. No Lucky by my side this time. No Marsha, either. No Sky. None of my new family to lend me their support. I was wondering if that walk under the arch in Monument Valley had worked. Right now it didn’t feel like I was starting a future clear from the taint of my past.

  We came to a stop sign. Lucky brought the Ducati to a halt and dropped his heavy biker boots to the pavement. I watched a couple of people with their roller suitcases cross in front of us. The sign for departures lay straight ahead. It was almost time to say goodbye.

  Lucky twisted the throttle giving the engine some gas and zipped us into a spot a large SUV had vacated. At the curb, he turned the motor off. I reached for the strap beneath my chin, but I couldn’t get it to release. My hands were shaking too badly. I cursed under my breath.

  “Raven.” He kicked the stand down, put his feet on the ground and turned his head. “Hold onto me. Get off the bike first. Then remove your helmet."

  Yeah, that would work. Only I wondered whether or not I could really let go of him.

  But I did what I had to, and he dismounted after me. Once I got the stupid helmet off, I tried to duck my head, but I was a beat too slow.

  “Don’t cry, Angel.” He had seen the telltale sheen misting my eyes. He doffed his own helmet and shook out his hair.

  "I’m not crying,” I lied.

  He took my helmet from my lax grip and set it on the sidewalk beside his. I was so far gone that seeing them side by side made the tears I had been attempting to hold back rush down my cheeks. In a matter of moments, he would get on the Ducati and go back to his life without me.

  "Hey.” He framed my face in his warm hands. “No need for tears." He brushed aside the wetness with his thumbs. "We’ll find a solution.”

  But when? I wondered. The Dragons had an upcoming stop in Jersey, close enough to New York for me to see him again. Would he allow me to rejoin the tour there or would that end up being yet another painful goodbye?

  "I know it’s not the end of the world.” I lifted my chin. Only it felt that way. “It's just that…I mean...That you are...oh, hell." I gave up, grabbed his arms and planted my face in his jacket.

  "It’s alright, Angel." He stroked his hands up and down my back. But the leather of my jacket was too thick. I wanted to feel the warmth of his touch, the connection of his skin to mine.

  "You’re right, of course it will be,” I managed after a couple of in and out breaths of his soothing mandarin and spice scent. "I’m sorry.” I unzipped my jacket and handed it to him, trying to pretend I didn’t see the sympathy in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall apart like this." I told myself to focus on how adorable he looked with his hair helmet smushed and not on how much my chest hurt. "It’s just that being with you, going to sleep with you and then waking in your arms, I’v
e gotten accustomed to it. And leaving you, it feels all wrong."

  "Oh, Raven, I fancy having you around, as well." He squeezed his eyes shut. After a long beat, he reopened them. They surface of his gaze sparkled like an aquamarine gemstone. "I’ll miss those things you mentioned, too.” His voice was gruff. "I’ll miss you. I can put up with the bullshit that goes along with this job just knowing that I have you to look forward to at the beginning and at the end of every day. I hope you know that."

  I did know, but it lightened my heart for him to remind me. “I don’t want to add to your stress.” I lifted my hands to his handsome face and smoothed the vertical slash between his brows with my thumbs. Then I skimmed my fingers down the length of his nose and along his jaw. I lingered when I reached the lushness of his lips. Brushing my thumbs back and forth over the warm satiny texture of them, I stared deeply into his eyes. "This day went by too fast. I wish we had more time."

  "I wish we did, too."

  "So, this isn’t goodbye." My throat closed. "Just a see you later." I started to turn away, but he grabbed me by my wrists, lifting one of my hands to his mouth to press a tender kiss to the sensitive underside and then did the same to the other. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes.

  "You do what you need to do to appease Smith.” His gaze was as unwavering as the command. “I’ll do my part to resolve the problems on my end. The sooner we can get back to being you and me together again the better.”

  I STARED OUT the window watching the workers bustling around on the drizzle dampened tarmac. Inside the plane we were waiting for the flight crew to give the go ahead for us to get off. But my mind wasn’t on the activity around me. I was thinking about those I had left behind like I had been during most of the flight.

  Had Sky already done the guys’ makeup by now?

  Did Rocky finally stay still long enough for her to get his hammer mask just right?

  Did Sky pick up on his physical cues this time? His rapid breaths? his darkened eyes? Did she really not realize that the reason he was so restless during those sessions was because her touch turned him on?

  What about Cody and Alec? Had Alec messed with Cody’s supply of guitar pics again? The bassist liked them lined up on his mic pole for easy access, and he had to have them exactly evenly spaced. But the rhythm guitarist enjoyed ruffling his lover's compulsive feathers.

  And Lucky. A big sigh. How many women waited for him beside the stage door tonight? They would give him anything he wanted. Would any tempt him? He wasn’t Ivan Carl. I knew that. He would end it with me before he slept with anyone else. But how long would it be before that happened? How many nights before his honor gave way to easy access? Certainty was elastic. When we were together, it was the binding that held us close, but it didn’t feel as sure when stretched long distance. How long before it snapped in the middle? And how badly hurt would I be when it did?

  "Miss Winters," the first class flight attendant prompted with a careful smile. "Is everything alright?"

  "Yes." What total bullshit. I wasn’t even close to alright.

  “Is there anything else I can get you? The other passengers have already left.”

  "I’m sorry. I didn’t notice. Lost in my thought.” Slogging through a morass of confusion and doubt without him. “I just need to get my bag." I unlatched my belt, scooted past the only other seat in my row and grabbed my duffle from the overhead bin. It was light. I had left the bulk of my wardrobe behind in my Dallas apartment. There wasn’t a lot of extra storage space on the bus. I didn’t need much on the road. Flip flops or sneakers. Jeans. Dragon t-shirts or ones from other bands I had picked up along the journey. I modified them with Sky’s help, widening the necks, fraying the hem, making them my own while at the same time creating a wearable memory. I often re-wore the same clothes. I didn’t stay in them long enough for them to get dirty. I spent most of my time naked, curtain drawn, in the bunk I shared with Lucky.

  I mumbled a thank you to the flight attendant and trudged up the gangway. Hitching my duffle higher on my shoulder, I considered how I would get to WMO. A taxi, I guessed. Uber didn’t work in the city. It would have been nice if the big multimedia conglomerate had prearranged transportation for me, and perhaps they had. I withdrew my cell from my cross body purse and went to my settings, taking it off airplane mode. It searched for a connection and started pinging alerts as soon as I stepped inside the terminal. I didn’t notice any messages from WMO, but there were several from him.

  Lucky: Remember to call when you land

  Lucky: The ride to the Tabernacle sucked without you. No riding the Ducati until you return.

  Lucky: I keep expecting to see you. On the bus. In the dressing room. Waiting for me beside the stage.

  Lucky: Were my instructions unclear? Your flight has landed. Why haven’t you called me?

  The overly taut feeling inside my chest eased as I read them. I was just about to call him when someone spoke my name.

  "Raven."

  A familiar voice. One that made happy tears prick my eyes. I turned to scan for her, but it wasn’t necessary. Her long blond hair trailing behind her, she came barreling at me at the speed of let’s-be-first-in-line-for-a-Fletcher’s-corndog-at-the-Texas-state-fair-the-minute-it-opens. In other words, superfast. I barely had time to brace. She rocked me back on my flip-flops as she threw her arms around me. My duffle strap sliding down to the crook of my arm, I returned her embrace. When I peeled back to look at her, my smile was as bright as hers.

  "Marsha." I hugged her again, tighter.

  "Can’t breathe," she gasped.

  “I missed you." I loosened my hold somewhat.

  "I’m getting the idea." She eased back, took my hands and gave me a wry look. "Missed you more.” She shushed me when I opened my mouth to protest. “Don’t argue. You know it’s true. You have Lucky."

  Yeah, I had him now, but for how long? Ours wasn’t like the relationship Marsha and I shared. We were a one plus one time tested institution.

  "Alright." I slid the strap of my bag back up my shoulder. "But you’re not completely alone. You have your dad. Your brothers."

  "My father prefers to ignore me. I prefer to do the same.” She glanced away. She and her dad had a complicated relationship, one that had grown even more complicated after her mother had disappeared. “My brothers only stop by to see me now because they know I have some money from WMO.” She threw her hair over her slim shoulder in a dismissive gesture like neither of those things mattered to her, but I knew they did.

  I framed her face in my hands. "What are you doing here?"

  "I’m here to see you. Isn’t that obvious?”

  "But how? Why?"

  "I called your man. He told me what was going on and gave me your flight info. And voilà I’m here because you need me." She hesitated. "Don’t you?"

  "You know I do." I hugged her again. She returned my hug then set me back, her hands on my shoulders, a familiar mischievous twinkle in her gaze.

  "So here we are. You and me. In New York City. The town that never sleeps. And we are completely unsupervised." She grinned. "So let’s get wild and crazy, and make it count. What do you want to do first?"

  I TRIED CALLING Lucky on the taxi ride into Manhattan. It rolled directly to voicemail, but the sound of his recorded voice made my breath hitch. My imagination immediately went where it shouldn’t as I noted the time.

  He’s just at the VIP meet and greets, I told myself preparing to leave a light and breezy message after the beep. "Lucky,” I greeted. “I got your texts. I’m on the way into the city. Marsha’s here. She found me as soon as I got off my plane. Thank you for telling her where I would be. Call whenever you have a moment free.” My throat tightened. “I love you."

  "Aww," Marsha commented. I could see her studying me out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to twist my hands together, but I kept my turmoil internal.

  Everything is going to be ok, I told myself.

  "But enough with the mushy stuff.” She
patted my knee. “He’s there. We’re here. And I guess it’s up to me to choose where we start this party since you seem to be having trouble getting on board with the Texas girls running amok in Manhattan train."

  "Alright." I leaned back into my seat, refusing to believe that the shadows from the bridge’s girders were an omen. “So what’s first, my crazy compadre?” I turned to glance at her raising a brow.

  "Drinks, duh." She smiled at me, her blue eyes blindingly bright. She was a balm to me. She warmed my soul. "There's an Irish bar by the Empire State building. TripAdvisor says it’s pretty cool. After that we can do the whole touristy thing. Greenwich Village. Soho. Rockefeller Center. Staten Island."

  Both my brows rose. "That’s an ambitious agenda.”

  “Hey, we were in and out of the city so fast the last time we didn’t get to see any of the highlights."

  "I don’t have a problem with it. Sounds fun but it’s not exactly mayhem."

  "Ok, so we’ll start with the crazy tonight, sleep in late, then do the other more mundane stuff in the morning. We'll cover all our bases. Sound good?"

  "Sounds great." I cover her hand with my own and squeezed it while holding her gaze. Connected to my bestie again, she steadied my out of sync groove.

  My cell suddenly rang. It wasn’t the ring tone I had programmed for Lucky, but my heart took flight anyway. Maybe he was calling me from a venue phone.

  "Hello," I answered, my voice noticeably breathy with anticipation.

  "Miss Winters," a young feminine voice chimed like a crystal bell. She sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Yes, it is. How can I help you?"

  "I don’t know if you remember me. But it's Barbara. Barbara Michaels. Suzanne Smith's secretary. She had me track your flight. I know it’s after-hours, and I apologize in advance but Ms. Smith expects you to come straight to her office." She mumbled under her breath. “Working late again.” She sighed. "Are you in the city yet?"