Текст книги "The Song Remains the Same"

Автор книги: Kelli Jean

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

Phil

Kenna handed me my phone as I stepped out of the bathroom. Checking the name on the screen, I saw it was Devon.

“Hey, man,” I answered.

“Hey. I got her.”

“Oh, yeah? That was pretty quick. How’s she doin’?”

“She’s fuckin’ covered in bruises and…” Devon swallowed hard. “I’m scared she might need to see a doctor. One of those fuckers tore her ass up bad. She’s bleeding, and she can hardly sit down.”

“Then, fuckin’ take her! What are you waitin’ for?”

“She won’t go. She’s scared they’ll see her as a user and admit her to rehab or jail. Can I talk to Kenna? See what she says?”

“Yeah, man, here.” I handed the phone off to my Baby Girl.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Hello?” her sweet rich voice spoke into the phone.

I watched her face for any telltale expression, but those waters were calm as she listened to Devon.

“How bad is it? Will she let you take a look?” She nodded her head.

I wished she would hit speakerphone. We were alone in our room. No one else would hear the conversation.

“Okay. Okay. I suggest that you get to the pharmacy…” She walked around the room, giving him instructions.

Devon must’ve said something she really didn’t agree with because her cool waters rippled with irritation.

“All right. Just keep a close eye on her. Yeah. Here’s Phil.”

She slapped the phone in my hand and walked out of the bedroom.

“What the fuck, GianFranco? Why’s my Baby Girl pissed?”

“Because I can’t find Brigid’s stash, and I can’t be with her every fucking second. She’s got tracks in the inside of her elbows, but they look a few days old, so maybe she wasn’t doing so much to go into full withdrawal. I know she doesn’t feel well, but she’s not wholly fucked up.”

“Can a roadie or one of your detail sit with her when you can’t be there?”

“I guess so. She’s been sleeping since she got here. Well, we talked, but…”

“About what?”

“About us, her and me. She said she was sorry about everything that went down. She admitted that you were the guy she fell for and that she went a bit psycho when she saw you again. But…she told me that she loved me, too, that she was just scared that I’d bail on her like you did. She fucked shit up on purpose, so she wouldn’t have to go through it again. I asked her if she was over you, and she said she wasn’t sure, but she was ready to move on.”

“Huh.”

“So…after the tour, I guess I’ll go to Amsterdam and get her back into rehab—if, for nothing else, as a friend.”

“You’re really thinkin’ of gettin’ involved with her? After all this shit she put everyone through?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always cared about her, and right now, she needs someone who gives a shit, you know? Once…there was a time when I thought I could have that with her. She wasn’t like this, Phil. She was…Brigid—sweet and loving and adorable.”

“Yeah,” I replied, guilt flooding me.

“So, I’ll see you in Fresno then?” said Devon, sounding bone tired.

“Yeah, man. Call if you need anythin’.”

Hanging up, I took a seat on the edge of the bed. I thought about the young woman who had caught my eye after a club set in Zurich. We’d all hit up the bar, and there Brigid had sat, on a high stool with her long legs hanging out of a tight black miniskirt. She’d had her blonde hair up in a ponytail high on top of her head. I’d wanted to twist it around my fist and pull.

Gorgeous.

Brigid had been gorgeous.

For seven months, she’d been my girl. We’d partied, fucked, and had a good time. I’d paid for her rent, food, and covered the costs of drugs. I never could give her all of me. I’d never imagined she’d given me all of herself. If she had…it was never enough.

She wasn’t Kenna.

Kenna wanted me to be no one else but myself—the good, the bad, and the fucked up. No one got me as she did. She didn’t judge me for my weird baggage. The shit she put up with for me, the things she would do for me…she was everything and more.

I looked up, and there she was. Tall, cool, and collected, Kenna stood in the doorway, watching me come to terms with the Brigid situation.

“Hey.” I held up an arm, needing a fuckin’ hug.

Smiling sweetly, she came up and wrapped her long arms around me, holding my head to her chest. I loved how she smelled right in between her tits, clean and musky with a hint of sweetness.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I sighed because, right then, I was home, in her arms, and nothing could shatter that. “Just…sad, I guess. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Phil. She’s got Devon, and I know if it gets bad, he’ll take her to the emergency room.”

“Yeah,” I replied, my arms tightening around her. I pulled us both back on the bed.

“Is she a responsible user? She doesn’t share needles or anything, right?”

“I think so. She used to be. We only shot up together a few times, and when I told her I was done with it, she said she was, too. We didn’t share. No fuckin’ way. But I have no clue what goes on in that bus. I don’t think Jürgen would allow for that sort of shit, not with his boys and not with the women he uses.”

“Do you know if he uses heroin?”

“I’ve seen him use, yeah. Never used with any of them though. That shit scared me when we hung out. Too many people, too many factors that could go way fuckin’ wrong.”

“But not with Brigid.”

“No. I was more comfortable with her.”

She snuggled into my arms, and her sigh of contentment warmed me. Sometimes, I’d catch these moments with her, and I would wonder how I’d ever existed without them. Kenna was just so fuckin’ vital to who I was anymore. Most guys would fuckin’ lose their shit in fear of feeling like that but not me.

I was born only to be her other half. Whatever else…fuck it.

Las fuckin’ Vegas!

End of the tour for us, and fuck yeah, we were going all out! I’d made sure Kenna and I would have a killer room at The Bellagio. I’d thought of the penthouse, but I knew Kenna wouldn’t be impressed with a huge fuckin’ room just for the two of us, so I’d scaled it down.

“Wow!” she gasped as we walked into our suite. “This is awesome!”

Not as awesome as the penthouse, but whatever…

Just something else I adored about her. She was perfectly happy, no matter where she was, as long as we were together.

Everyone else got suites on the same floor, including Devon and Brigid. She still wouldn’t leave whatever accommodations he’d put her up in, preferring to be anti-social. That was just fine by me. As long as she wasn’t up in Kenna’s face, irritating my woman, I was happy.

“Yeah, it ain’t bad,” I agreed, dropping my bag on the floor.

She took off into the bedroom. “Wow!” she called out.

I heard another door swing open and grinned when she exclaimed, “Holy shit! There are separate bathrooms in the bathroom!”

Totally worth it.

The penthouse would’ve rendered her speechless, and I liked hearing how much I could impress her.

My woman skipped out of the bedroom and over to the massive window to check out the view. Her face was alight, blazing with excitement. Just so fuckin’ radiant, it made the air in my lungs freeze.

How in the hell did I get so lucky?

“Hey,” I said softly, trying to fuckin’ breathe around her beauty.

She turned those big green eyes and dynamite smile on me, full blast. My nuts went insta-tight, and my dick roared to life.

“Yeah?”

Fuck me, she was so hot. I totally spaced for a moment there, forgetting what I was supposed to tell her.

“Phil?”

Clearing my throat, I said, “I booked us for a couple’s massage at one o’clock. Ninety minutes. Then, you’re gettin’ a facial and all sorts of other shit while me and the guys have a meetin’. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

As I held up my arms, she practically ran at me, throwing herself into my embrace. She was just too fuckin’ cute for my own good. I was simply overjoyed at having her with me, being my other half, my only love. She was all I’d ever need.

“Wanna have some sex?” I asked.

“Hell yeah.”

That’s my Baby Girl.

Ninety minutes of torture—that was what I’d booked for us. Well, Kenna seemed to be really enjoying the treatment, being felt up by a cute little Asian woman of indeterminate age. Seriously, the woman was somewhere between twenty and fifty. All the while, Helga from Sweden had been giving me a fuckin’ beatdown. The beast woman I had gotten was trying to massage my bones, foregoing any sort of warm-up. Helga didn’t believe in such nonsense apparently.

My six-foot-seven, twenty-eight-year-old grown ass was trying not to cry. Seriously, my fuckin’ eyes were watering.

Kenna sighed, and I raised my head to get a look at her. Helga grabbed the back of my head with one of her bear paws and shoved my face back down into the doughnut hole.

Afterward, they left us alone in the room to find our bearings. Kenna was all loosey-goosey, sitting up and stretching. The towel around her fell, so her titties were just out there for me to see. What a powerful sight they were, too. All my soreness forgotten, I sprang off the bed and tackled her flat.

“Phil!” she squealed. “Inappropriate!”

Completely ignoring her ass, I held her down and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. They were my titties. I could do with them what I wanted, damn it.

“Stop it!” she hissed, but her fingers slipped into my hair and pulled me closer.

I went for the other one, and my Baby Girl let me.

“Bend over the bench—”

“The hell I will!” she snapped.

I loved it when she got riled up.

“Come on, it’ll be all sorts of inappropriate fun. I’ll be quick. I promise.”

She snorted. “Right, because that’s incentive.”

“I can take my time, too, but I figured you’d appreciate a quickie, considerin’ we’re in an inappropriate settin’—”

“Phil! I swear to the gods—”

I gave her my dimples, and she stared at me and stopped fighting.

Grinding my dick in between her legs, I pressed my luck. “Come on, Kenna Baby. Just bend over—”

“No. I don’t want the Essence of Phil dripping out of me while I’m having a spa treatment.”

Sighing, I settled for kissing her until she was grinning instead.

“Shit, how am I supposed to walk out of here in this state?” I asked her, getting up and indicating toward my ridiculous hard-on.

Little shit busted out laughing.

“Hush, Baby Girl.”

With her hand on my chest, she pushed me up against the door, dropped to her knees, tugged off my towel, and swallowed me down.

“Oh…fuuuck…” I moaned, my fingers stabbing through her hair.

She looked up at me—so fuckin’ hot when she does that—and winked. Then, she started playing with her tits with both hands, giving me a fuckin’ show.

“You little slut.”

She nodded her head while giving me a pair of innocent eyes, rolling her nipples between her fingers.

“You’re my little slut, aren’t you?”

Again, she nodded with my dick jammed deep in her throat. She slid a hand up my inner thigh and gently stroked and pulled on my balls. My head dropped back, banging against the door.

“Everyt’ing okay in t’ere?” Helga called out from the other side.

“Fuck yeah, it is!” I called back.

Moaning, I earned a sweet pinch from my Baby Girl on my inner thigh.

“Fuck, do that again.” Mmm…yeah. Love that pain.

Tingles shot down my spine, hitting my tailbone, zipping to the tip of my dick. My balls were fuckin’ singing, getting tighter. I could’ve busted out in soprano right then.

“Baby, I’m gonna blow…”

That was all she needed. She pushed her face straight up into my pubes and let me come down her throat. Shutting my eyes, I bit my lip and screamed behind my teeth.

Fuckin’ bliss.

Helping her to her feet, I gave my Baby Girl a kiss. I didn’t give a shit that she’d just swallowed my load. My woman got a fuckin’ kiss after giving me that sort of lovin’.

“That inappropriate behavior earned you an ass-whoopin’ later, babe,” she said in her throaty deep voice.

Fuck, if my dick didn’t like hearing that.

Shit, what sort of voodoo is in this woman that has me getting hard right after I blew my load?

Slightly weak in the knees, I watched her head over to the hook rack where her robe was hanging. Plucking it off, she pulled her arms through, tying the belt ’round her waist. Just that simple, ordinary act was so fuckin’ sexy. Smiling, she took mine off the hook and handed it to me. I took the robe and her hand holdin’ it, and I pulled her into my arms.

Looking down into her gem-colored eyes, I told her with all my heart, “I fuckin’ love you, Kenna.”

Grinning, she said, “I fuckin’ love you, too, Phil.”

Kenna headed off for the rest of her spa day, and I went to the changing room to get dressed for the band meeting in Jason and Sheri’s suite.

After the concert, we were planning on staying in Vegas until the thirty-first. Then, we’d be heading home, and we’d start writing. We wanted to get the ball rolling on producing more bands under our label. There were a few bands that we liked the sound of. Being as they were out of state, we’d have to be really sure of their shit before we moved them to NOLA for recording.

“What’s up, man?” X said, hanging out by the door to Jace and Sheri’s room.

“Nothin’ really. Just got a fuckin’ beatdown from Helga.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. If you book massages with Alys, ask for the little Asian woman. Give Alys Helga the Brute.”

“Will do. Well…let’s get this over with then.” He knocked on the door.

Sheri answered, looking stressed out. Even her curly white-blonde hair looked harassed, Afroing all over her head.

“You all right, Sher-Bear?” I asked.

“Yeah, come on in.”

It was a typical meeting, nothing out of the ordinary, except for news of a hurricane passing over Southern Florida and hitting the Gulf.

“I’m in touch with Siggie, you guys. The storm is strengthening quickly, and it’s a monster in size. What should be moved in case it hits land?” asked Sheri.

“What category is it?” asked Flipper.

“It was a one when it hit Florida, but something about warm Gulf water is making it pick up in intensity.”

“Pfft,” he snorted.

I sort of agreed with him.

“All the recordin’s,” said Jason. “And just to be safe, all the computer equipment that has our files and shit. Move them to Phil’s place, and put ’em in the attic. If a hurricane hits, there’ll be floodin’. There’s always floodin’.”

Sheri nodded and wrote this shit down. “I’ll see if Gordy can help Siggie out with any of that. See if there’s some guys left…”

“Send Duck and someone else. We’ll keep Steve,” I said. “And see if the Devils can help Siggie out, too,” I told her.

With all that sorted out, we went straight into tomorrow night’s show. We would have two solid hours on stage.

Nice.

Transportation was in order and all that jazz. The roadies had all our equipment at the venue ready to go.

When the meeting concluded, the five of us got our jam on in Jason’s living room for a couple of hours. Flipper only had a tiny-ass kit, but it was enough to keep a beat. That was what I loved best about being in a band—just sitting the fuck down and rocking out with my brothers.

“So, little brother,” I said after our seventh Led Zeppelin tribute with “The Song Remains the Same.” Fuck yeah. “What’s your take on tourin’?”

“Honestly? I thought you guys were fuckin’ rock stars. Now, I know you’re all just a bunch of old farts who cater to your women.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Jason. “Too bad you weren’t with us on world tour number two. Talk about some wild fuckin’ times.”

X was losin’ it. “Oh, fuck! Remember that time Flipper got so fuckin’ wasted, he puked on and shat in his favorite nut-huggers?”

Jason cracked up, pointing at our Mexican brother. “Phil stripped his ass and threw ’em out, right? And fuckin’ Flip fuckin’ flipped. Made Phil go with him in the dumpsters behind the hotel and search for the fuckers!”

“But the best was the fuckin’ maid’s face when Flipper tried to get her to wash them! She made him hose that shit down in the tub—before she fuckin’ put them in a trash bag and threw them out!” X crowed.

“Hey! I never fuckin’ found a pair that fit like that again. I was fuckin’ devastated!” Flipper yelled.

“Really? That’s the wild time I missed out on?” drawled Connor.

“Yeah, well, what got those pants into that state…that was somethin’ else.” I laughed.

X’s face went blank. “What the fuck did we do that night?”

The four of us all just looked at each other, completely at a loss. Flipper opened his mouth and then closed it.

“Fuck, man. What country was that even in?” asked Jason.

“France?” I asked.

“Naawww…” said X. “Romania, I think.”

“We went to Romania?” asked Flipper.

“I think it was Austria, you guys,” said Jason. “Or Hungary. One of those.”

“Huh…” I grunted.

Connor stared at us for a few moments. “Seriously? You don’t remember?”

“Dude, there’s a lot we probably don’t remember. Sheri might though. Where is she?” I asked.

“She’s at the spa, gettin’ a massage,” said Jason.

Sweet. More fun for Helga.

X had gotten Alys, Kenna, and me reservations at a restaurant in the hotel, a place called Olives. We got to sit outside on the patio, overlooking the fountains. We had asked Lili and Lewis to join us, but they were in romance mode or something, so it was just the four of us.

After we ate, we all headed back to our rooms and called it a night. I had some emails and phone calls to make. Kenna traipsed her sweet ass into the bedroom, leaving me to my lonesome. Laptop up and running, I called my dad as I worked through several responses.

“Philip?” He always said my name rather than hello.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey! How’s the tour going?”

“Good. We’re in Vegas now. Last show’s tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry we had to miss the show. Sigmund said you guys were amazing.”

Dad, Danielle, Martin, and my nibblings had gone to Martin’s parents’ place in Virginia. Martin’s dad had been real sick with cancer and passed away while they were there.

“We overplayed a bit that night. Listen, what’s up with that storm in the Gulf?”

“It looks like it’s gonna happen. We’re not too sure of where exactly, but it’s gaining strength.”

“Why don’t you guys go stay in La Place if it hits? I just had that place rein-fuckin’-forced. Danielle, Martin, and the kids, too.”

“It’s not a bad idea. We’ve still got time to figure out where it’ll land, but we’ve already started stockpiling. I’ll talk to everyone and see if that’s what they want to do.”

“Cool.”

“So…having fun?”

“Yeah. The shows have been fuckin’ killer. Connor’s doin’ fantastic. Real proud of how he’s worked out…”

Shooting the shit with Dad was always easy. He talked about Camille getting excited for preschool and Guillaume cutting teeth. All I had to do was grunt in reply and act interested. And I was, really. I loved my nibblings a whole lot.

“How’s Kenna doing on tour with you all?”

“She’s phenomenal, Dad. Just amazin’. That woman blows my mind,” I told him. “She’s so fuckin’ smart and just such a good person. Gordy fucked up his foot, and she was like a wizard. Had him splinted and calm while we waited for the ambulance. Dad, I can’t even…” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “It’s like, every day, I find somethin’ more to love about her. She’s fuckin’ fierce and loyal and carin’. She goes out of her way for people, even the ones who don’t fuckin’ deserve it. She…”

“She what?”

“She even helped me fix a friendship that I thought was beyond repair. She made me listen rather than assume somethin’. It was fucked up, but she made me realize that I was wrong about this guy, and…yeah.”

“Sounds like you’re all set in the love department then. I’m happy for you, Philip.”

Dad went on about getting together for a huge barbeque when we got back. I was half-braining the conversation again when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some movement.

Kenna.

My Baby Girl.

She was standing in a pair of black lace panties and nothing else. She had her hair up, a fuckin’ dead sexy smile on her face, and in her hand…a fuckin’ riding crop.

“…could get some watermelons and vodka. Heard that was good—”

“Dad?” I choked. “I’m gonna get back to you on that.” My eyes were fuckin’ glued on my woman. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

My poor father. I hung up on him. But he had no idea that my Baby Girl was standing there in a pair of panties I was gonna tear off with my teeth. Growling, I stood up and charged her. Shrieking, she hauled ass back into the bedroom with me gnashing my teeth after her.

“Augh! No! I got this especially for you!” she cried, frantically waving the crop in the air as she zigged and zagged.

I lunged at her, and she dived and slid across the bed.

“Get over here!” I bellowed.

She giggled, and I fuckin’ lost it. Yanking off my clothes, I chased her lace-covered sweet ass all over the room.

“You fuckin’ sexy-ass little shit! Come here!” I yelled, which made her laugh even harder. “I’m gonna spank you with my dick, right after I rip those fuckin’ panties off with my teeth, if you don’t stop!”

My Baby Girl collapsed onto the bed, tears running down her precious face. She was laughing that hard. Jumping on her, I fuckin’ attacked her mouth until her laughter turned to moans, and she was breathless and squirming beneath me.

“You gonna take that switch to me?” I asked her, keeping my voice low and husky. It fuckin’ turned her to mush, hearing it.

“I thought we’d try something different.”

“You don’t like the belt?”

“I…” She swallowed hard, feeling my dick rub against her just right. “I wanted to try something I might have better control over.”

“Mmm…yeah, maybe,” I said, biting my lip.

Her eyes went all dark when I did.

“How do you want me, Baby Girl?”

“However I can get you,” she replied.

“Is that right?”

She nodded. “You’re my greatest strength and my unholy weakness. Whatever you want, I want that, too.”

“Oh, Baby…” I breathed. My chest tingled as though my heart had stopped. Looking into her eyes, I felt that wonderful calm peace I always got when I was with her like this. Reaching over, I took the crop from her hand and tossed it to the floor. “What do you want from me now?” I whispered, my lips moving over hers. “Let me give you what you need.”

“Just you,” she whispered. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

I loved how the skin on her face was soft, like a peach, and just as supple. Delicate and delicious and all fuckin’ mine. Sitting back, I kissed and licked my way down, tasting every inch of her from face to waist. Then, I bit into the lace of her panties and took them off real slow.

“Just you and me,” I told her.

No belts, crops, or restraints.

“You and me,” she replied, a smile brightening her face.

This was gonna be one of those times where I’d lose a part of myself to her. I loved these moments—when she was as open to me as she could possibly be. I got to see her as no one did, feel what she had inside that she kept hidden from everyone else.

Spreading her wide, I lowered myself between her thighs, my eyes never leaving hers, as I sank deep into the only place that was truly home. Soft, hot, wet, and so tight, she wrapped around all of me, holding me inside her, a part of her.

“I love you,” she sighed, breaking my heart and healing it up all at once.

She usually never said it first, always saving it for when I needed it most. For my Baby Girl, those words meant something. She didn’t throw them around lightly.

“I love you, too,” I told her, pulling out and sliding back home. That tiny heartbeat…fuck, she unmanned me.

This was my absolute favorite, watching her give herself up to it, to me. Her eyes closed, and her lips parted as a raspberry flush covered her from her chest to her cheeks. Fuck, I loved that color. It told me I was doing my job right. Her brows knitted together as I pushed all of me, all I was, into the one place I belonged.

“So beautiful,” I muttered, just in complete awe of the gorgeous sight before me.

“Not…as beautiful…as you,” she replied between breaths.

My eyes burned. I knew she believed it with her whole heart, but she was wrong. There was nothing more beautiful than Kenna, no human more precious. My miracle. I fuckin’ felt it to my core. She was everywhere and was everything, and I was lost in her.

“My other half,” I whispered against her mouth.

“My whole life,” she replied.

The guys and I stood huddled, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, heads together.

“All right, guys,” said Jason. “Fuckin’ Vegas. Let’s tear her a new one, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah!” barked Flipper, bouncing.

“Let’s go out there, and have the fuckin’ time of our lives,” I told them. “Let’s give ’em hell. I wanna leave these fuckers sore for days.”

“Too fuckin’ right,” grunted Connor.

Little brother had come a long fuckin’ way since that first show in Bethel Woods. Like his sister, he was cool and calm, and I ain’t ever known a motherfucker more focused during a show. There was something in the MacGregor kids’ DNA that didn’t let them freak out too much.

Kenna had told me what she imagined it was like for us going up on stage and performing before thousands of people. She’d likened it to a wave of energy crashing over us, and from her point of view, I could see it. But what it was like on the inside, at least for me…it was a high that couldn’t really be described.

There was the excitement, sure. I’d long ago lost the nervousness. Somehow, it had turned into a buzz. Seeing all those faces, screaming for us, roaring our words back at us, pounding the earth in beat with the music—it was un-fuckin’-believable.

Kenna stood off to the side, smiling and laughing with Alys and Lili. She looked so sexy, her hair tucked up under a black cabby hat, shadowing her eyes, but I could see her blazing smile, felt the warmth of it like the rays of the sun.

Memories of last night washed through me, and all of me warmed up.

“Just you and me.”

The stage lights went black, and the roar of the masses called out to us.

Running out to center stage, I jumped up and down, letting the surge reach to my fingertips and toes. It shivered its way down my spine. Huh. Never thought of it before, but I would feel the same shit when I was close to blowing a load.

Jason let a chord rip, and– BOOM!—lights went up, showing a sea of faces rippling before me.

“Hello, Las Vegas!” I roared into the mic.

Something came over me that wasn’t wholly me when up on stage. That was what Kenna called Phil fuckin’ Deveraux. A rush of strength, of power, held me up to be a cocky fucker up there. It got the crowd up and going and kept them wanting more.

When we played like this, time didn’t exist. The music beat its way through us, distorting the fabric of the universe, and we loved the feeling so fuckin’ much that, by the time the set should finish, we just wanted to keep going. It wasn’t a fuckin’ job. It was who we fuckin’ were. It was the five of us at our most basic, most raw.

Two hours later, dripping under the cooker lights, with the tide of energy ebbing to a sustained thrumming, we all came together and put our arms around each other to thank the audience. We knew it was the fans who had given us this. They were the ones who had made it possible for us to be who we really were, and for that…

Namaste, motherfuckers.