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Автор книги: Kylie Scott

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The first day of our official vacation/tour time together, we spent mostly in bed. Waffles were ordered and consumed. In the evening, we left the sanctity of our hotel room to have dinner with his parents up in their suite. Once more, Neil was stalwart and silent, staying close to Lori’s side at all times. Lori was the life of the party. The stories she told about Mal as a kid annoyed him and had me howling with laughter.

My favorite was the time an eleven-year-old Mal and his dad had built a small skate ramp in the backyard and he’d broken an arm, two fingers, and a leg within the first two and a half months. Lori made Neil turn the ramp into kindling. Mal staged a hunger strike that lasted approximately two and a half hours.

To make up for the loss of the ramp, his mom promised him a drum kit.

And so the legend began.

It was a great night. His mom didn’t mention her illness, so neither did we. If Lori weren’t so thin and fragile, and the men so on edge, you could’ve almost imagined nothing was wrong. The more time I spent with her, the more I understood Mal’s devastation. Skate-ramp destroyer or not, Lori Ericson was great. Now that I knew, the quiet despair in Neil’s eyes seemed obvious. He was dying inside, going through this with her.

That was the problem with love, it didn’t last. One way or another, everything came to an end. People got hurt.

When we returned to our room Mal was withdrawn, silent. I put on an action film full of explosions. We watched it together, his head in my lap. When the movie ended was when the night really began. The sex was slow and intense. It went on and on until I barely remembered my own name. He stared into my eyes, moving above and inside me like time didn’t matter.

Like we could do this forever.

The second day, all of their equipment and instruments had been moved from the practice hall to the venue. Mal had a sound check, then a business meeting to attend. I had my own plans. Lizzy came over to keep me and my low profile company. Apparently a couple of reporters were staking out the book shop and my apartment, still hoping for the inside scoop. An old, fuzzy high school photo of me was the best they’d been able to do. It’d run in the local paper yesterday to no particular acclaim.

Fortunately, given her fascination with Ben, Lizzy already had a date lined up for tonight and couldn’t make the concert.

That night, the tour kicked off.

I had barely a week before I had to return to work.

We hung out backstage with the guys until Adrian, their manager, came in, clapping his hands loudly. “Five minutes, guys. We good to go?”

He was followed by a man with a headset and a clipboard or computer of some description. I’d seen quite a few people outfitted this way around. Exactly how much was involved in bringing Stage Dive to town, I had no idea.

Ev and I were watching the concert from the side of the stage beside a collection of massive amps. Holy fucking hell, the roar of the crowd and the energy filling the massive space was amazing. I wasn’t particularly deep or spiritual, but standing there, looking out over so many thousands of people, was an impressive thing. There was a definite vibe.

Stage Dive had sold out the largest concert venue in Portland in record time. Their tour was nine cities stateside, then on to Asia. They’d be hitting several festivals in Europe next spring and summer along with doing more concerts. Somehow during all of this, they’d also spend time in the recording studio. David had apparently been busy writing more songs about the glory of doing his wife.

Ah, true love and stuff.

The music was amazing up this close and personal. I enjoyed myself immensely until I noticed a woman in the front row had my boyfriend’s name written on her tits in big red letters. Kind of hard not to notice when she kept insisting on flashing them.

“Suck it up and smile,” said Ev, her teeth on show.

“Screw her.” I turned my attention back to the drummer, going hard at it. He was flinging his head about, blond hair wild and sweat flying off him. My heart went thump. Let’s not even go into what my loins did.

After an hour and a half or so, Lori and Neil joined us. Both were sporting earplugs and smiles. The looks of pride they gave their son made my eyes mist up ever so slightly. Lori must have noticed, because she slipped her arm around my waist, leaning into me. I put my arm around her shoulder as the band played another song, and then another. Gradually she gave me more of her weight. She didn’t weigh much, but when she started to sway on her feet I gave Neil a nervous look.

He put a hand beneath her elbow, leaning down in front of her with his subtle smile. Lori perked up, waving him away, standing taller. Then her knees buckled and gave out. Both Neil and I grabbed for her, keeping her off the ground. Unfortunately, all of this happened between songs. Jimmy was smooth talking the screaming audience up front of the stage. And despite all of the bright lights, Mal saw Lori stagger. He rose from his stool, standing, watching us. Anxiety lined his face.

Without further ado, Neil swung Lori up into his arms and carried her off. I held my hand up to Mal and nodded, hoping he’d get the message that I’d follow them and do what I could. He must have, because he nodded back at me and then sat down again.

“Come on,” said Ev, grabbing my hand. We ran after Mal’s parents, ducking and weaving around people and equipment. Lena met us just outside the room we’d been in before, backstage. Beside her stood an unhappy Adrian, but then I doubted I’d ever see a happy one.

“Let me know if you want me to call a doctor,” she said.

“Thanks.”

Neil had lain Lori down on a couch and was holding a glass of juice to her lips. A bird would have drunk more than she seemed to. Her skin was pale and paper thin, her eyes dazed.

“There’s no need to fuss,” she said chidingly to Neil. When she saw me, her mouth fell open in obvious dismay. “Oh, Anne, you didn’t need to come. You were enjoying the show.”

“They must be nearly finished. And Mal would want me to come and check on you, I’m sure.”

“Well, you’ve checked. I’m fine. Go on back now.”

Fuck. I knew all about fine. Care of my mom’s early example, I was the Queen of fucking fine. I perched on the edge of the couch while Neil squatted near the end. Up this close, her face was tinged gray.

“I know you’re sick, Lori. Mal told me.”

The air hissed out of her. “I told him I didn’t want everyone knowing and carrying on. Its life, sweetie, we all have to go sometime.”

“He said you had a month or two,” I said. Lori and Neil shared a look I did not like one tiny bit. “Is there something you need to tell your son?”

“It might be less than that now. We saw the doctor before in Spokane before we left to come here.” Her chin hiked high. “But it makes no difference. I’m not spending my final days in a hospital.”

Something stuck in my throat. “Your final days?”

“Weeks,” she amended. “They think another week or two at best. We’ll head home tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to be there …”

Neil inhaled hard and turned away. His hand slid over his wife’s, fingers intermeshing.

“You have to tell him,” I said. There were razor blades in my throat, barbed wire, nails, assorted hardware, and sharp implements. It was wildly uncomfortable.

“I suppose you’re right.”

With a grunt, Neil gave her fingers a final squeeze and rose to his feet. “I’ll let him know when he comes offstage. Can’t ask Anne to keep it from him.”

“No,” agreed Lori. “Just, help me sit up. Everyone will come in and I’ll be lying here like a fool.”

This wasn’t happening. Shit.

Carefully, Neil and I helped Lori to sit upright. Then he went off to wait for his son. I took over juice duties. At least holding the glass gave me something to do.

“I’m glad he has you,” said Lori, straightening the skirt of her pale green dress. “I know I’ve said it before. But my going will hit him hard. He acts all loud and tough, but he’s got a soft underbelly, my son has. He’s going to need you, Anne.”

She took my spare hand in hers. Mine was sweaty, hers was not.

“I really like your son,” I said. Because I had to say something. So, of course it was woefully inadequate as per the ordinary when it came to feelings.

“I know you do, sweetie. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Crazy eyes?”

“Yes.” She laughed softly. “Crazy eyes.”

Out front, the crowd roared and the stamping of feet almost shook the building. Funny, back here, the music was a mild thrumming sort of noise at most. Negligible. Or maybe it was care of the pounding in my skull. I could feel a headache coming on. This whole situation was beyond heavy, the weight of it crippling. There was no making this right or fixing it.

People started flowing into the room. A long table full of drinks and food had been set up. Apparently an after party was planned for right here. Adrian stood by the door, shaking hands and laughing loudly at the shit people said. It was all so surreal. Somewhere out there, Neil was probably telling Mal, right now.

“Everything will be fine.” Lori patted my hand. Funny, the way she clung to my favorite word. Perhaps there was something to the belief of finding a partner who reflected your parent. Which was fantastically creepy and wrong. I really didn’t want to think about it after all. Mal was nothing like my father.

Then he stormed in. Mal, not my dad. A T-shirt was wrapped around his right hand, blood dripped from his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” I jumped out of my seat, running toward him.

Neil returned to Lori’s side. Jimmy headed straight for the table laden with booze and gourmet goodies. He dug into the big bucket filled with foreign beers with a single-minded dedication.

“Jimmy. What are you doing?” Lena grabbed at his arm.

With a look of pure annoyance, Jimmy leaned down, whispered in her ear. Lena’s gaze darted to Mal and then dropped to his hand. She looked up and down the table, searching for something.

“Mal?” The scent of him was a kick to my gut, same as always. But what the hell was going on?

“Hey, pumpkin. No big deal.” He didn’t meet my eyes. He also studiously avoided his mom’s concerned gaze.

Jimmy returned with his hands full. He and Lena had turned a linen table cloth into an ice pack. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Slowly, Mal unwound the bloody T-shirt. Beneath it, his knuckles were raw, open wounds. His jaw clenched as he held the ice to his hand.

The managerial jerk, Adrian, elbowed his way into our circle. “Mal, buddy. I hear there was an incident upstairs?”

“Ah, yeah, Adrian, you mind getting that straightened out? Mal accidentally put a hole in the wall. Just one of those things, yeah?” David put a hand to the man’s shoulder, leading him away.

I highly fucking doubted it was an accident, given the timing.

“We need to get someone in to look at his hand,” said Adrian.

They kept talking but I tuned them out. I put my hand to Mal’s face, willing him to look at me. “Hey.”

His eyes were going to give me nightmares, the misery in them. He leaned forward, caught my mouth with his, kissing me fully, frantically. His tongue invaded my mouth, demanding everything. And I gave it to him. Of course I did.

At last he calmed, resting his forehead against mine. “’S’all fucked.”

“I know.”

“She’s only got a week or two at most.”

There was nothing I could say.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Sweat from his face dampened my skin. He was bare from the waist up and the room was cold, the air-conditioning working overtime for some reason. Not so necessary this time of year.

“Let’s get you hydrated,” I said, grateful for anything I could do for him. “Find another T-shirt for you to put on. Okay? You’re going to cool off fast in here.”

“’Kay.”

“Stay with him,” said Ev, her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go.”

“Evvie.” Mal looped his arms over my head in an awkward hug, still holding the ice to his hand. “Hard stuff.”

Her forehead creased.

“Scotch or something,” said Mal. “Please.”

With a sigh, she turned away, headed off into the growing crowd. Worst damn timing for a party ever.

“We better go over,” said Mal, turning to face his parents.

Neil perched on the arm of the couch, an arm around his wife. Lori’s lips were pinched with worry.

“Hey, Mom,” said Mal, keeping me tight against him. “Glad you guys could make it. Had a little accident with my hand.”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah. No worries. ”

The guys stood nearby, holding back spectators, keeping industry and other types at bay from our corner of the room. Soon, Sam arrived with another black-suited guy and took over this duty. Ben and Jimmy kept close, talking to people, doing their job, and socializing. But their gazes kept returning to Mal.

Ev must have run, because she returned with a Stage Dive Tour shirt for him to wear, a bottle of Smirnoff vodka and another of Gatorade. “They didn’t have scotch.”

“It’ll do.” He handed me the sopping wet ice pack while he pulled on the shirt. It had a big candy skull on the front. “Thanks, Evvie.”

“Son,” said Neil. There was a lot communicated through just the one word.

“Dad, all good,” crowed Mal, suddenly switching mood to exuberant. It didn’t give me a good feeling. “This is how we roll after the show. You know that!”

Neil said nothing. The latest Stage Dive record and the chatter of a hundred or so party people filled the air instead. Mal downed half of the bottle of green Gatorade. Then he passed it to me to hold and downed big mouthfuls of vodka.

Ah, shit. This was going to be like watching a car wreck.

“Baby,” I said, slipping my arms around his waist, drawing him closer. “Just stop and breathe for a minute.”

“You called me baby.” He smiled.

“Yes.”

“You called me sweetheart the other day.”

“You’re the one that wanted a stupid romantic nickname.”

“Yeah. My Anne.” He rubbed his cheek against mine like he was marking me. Stubble scratched my skin and my whole body glowed like embers. The emotion was too much, completely overwhelming.

“Mal.”

“Don’t frown, there’s no need to worry. Do me a favor and go talk to Mom okay?” he asked. “Keep her happy. I can’t, ah … I can’t talk to her right now. Not yet.”

He put the bottle to his lips again, tipped his head back and drank, while I swallowed hard. The booze was him self-medicating regarding this situation. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me just the same. His eyes popped wide open and he exhaled. “That’s better. That’s fucking better.”

“I think Adrian’s going to get someone to come check your hand,” said David, sidling up next to us.

“No need.”

I tried to clear my sore throat. “Let him look at your hand, Mal.”

“Pumpkin–”

Enough of this shit. “You want me not to worry? You get your hand looked at. That’s the deal.”

His gaze ever so slowly sized me up. “I love it when you get all hard assed on me. Okay. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll let them look at it.”

“Thank you.”

Another big swig from the bottle.

Ev situated herself beneath David’s arm, both of them watching him with anxious eyes. There was strain and stress on everyone’s faces and Mal just kept right on drinking. Bottom of the bottle, here he came. For some reason, it just made me mad.

“That’s enough.” I tugged the bottle out of his hand. He obviously hadn’t been expecting it because he didn’t put up a fight. Big green eyes blinked at me, then narrowed into anger.

“What the fuck?” he said in a low voice.

“Find another way to deal with this.”

“That’s not your call.”

“You really want one of her last memories of you to be watching you get drunk?”

“Oh, please. Mom’s been around since the beginning. She knows what parties are like backstage, Anne. She wants normal? I’m giving her normal.”

“I’m serious, stop this.”

He gave me more of the angry stare. No problem. If he wanted to do glaring competitions all night, fine by me. I’d said I had his back. It meant protecting him even from himself if need be.

“Look around you,” I said. “They all just watched Jimmy go through this. They’re scared shitless for you, Mal.”

“It’s not like that,” he growled.

“Not yet.”

“Not your job to tell me what to do, pumpkin. Not even remotely.”

“Mal–”

“We’ve been together what, a week? And you know best now, huh?” He looked down at me, his jaw shifting from side to side. “Yeah, Anne’s in charge.”

“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” said David, stepping forward. “Shut up, you dickhead, before you say something you really regret. She’s right. I got no interest in watching you go through rehab too.”

“Oh give me a break,” said Mal. “Rehab? A bit overdramatic there, Davie.”

“Really?” asked David, getting right up in his face. “You’re getting so drunk you’re accidentally kicking your girlfriend in the head. So mad you’re putting your fist through walls. How’s that sound to you, hmm? Sound like someone who’s got it all under control?”

Mal flinched. “Stuff is happening.”

“I get that. We all get that. But Anne’s right, you fucking yourself up every other night isn’t the answer.”

Mal’s shoulders dropped, the fight leaving him. “Fuck you, Ferris.”

“Whatever. Say sorry to your girlfriend and mean it.”

His sad-eyed gaze turned to me. “Sorry, pumpkin.”

I nodded, tried for a smile.

“Come on, you need a breather.” David grabbed Mal by the back of the neck and towed him off into the crowd. Fortunately, Mal didn’t fight him. I watched them go with relative calm. Sure, everything would be alright. Whatever happened, however, I didn’t want to turn around. I could feel the weight of Lori’s stare burning a hole in the middle of my back. Her and Neil had to have heard and seen it all. What could I possibly say?

I was so terrible at this family and relationship stuff. I wish Lizzy were here. She’d know what to do. She was so much better with people than me.

“It’ll be okay,” said Ev, taking my hand in hers.

A nice sentiment, but I highly doubted it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“PARTY!” An hour later, Mal was in loud, manic mode.

He only had a bottle of water in his hand. Our words had gotten through to him at least. Just like the first night I met him, he stood on top of a coffee table, doing his groove thing. There were a lot of women willing to heed his party call. Plenty of slick, shiny women watching my man with avarice in their eyes. It was something I’d have to get used to. I couldn’t kill all of them. I mean, where on earth would I hide so many bodies?

This dating rock stars business was harder than it looked.

One such young lady tried to climb up onto the table with him and no. Not even a little.

I grabbed her arm. “Not happening.”

“Get your hand off me,” she spat.

“PUMPKIN!” shouted my drumming delight from above.

Holy hell, my ears. They were ringing.

The woman gazed up and gave Mal a foxy grin. Her facial expression when she turned back to me was not as warm.

“Sorry,” I said (blatant lie there). “He’s taken.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m pumpkin.” The “ha, bitch” was silent, but make no mistake, it was most definitely there.

She did some strange squinty-eyed thing and then about-faced, disappearing into the crowd. There was a flash of shiny silver stilettos and she was gone. Awesome shoes. I’d worn my usual boots and a skirt, denim this time, a black long-sleeve shirt and some chunky resin jewelry finished me off. Deep down inside, I had no idea how a rock star’s girlfriend was supposed to dress, but for comfort would do. Those shoes though, I’d really like to know where she got them. Chances of her telling me now had to be somewhere between nil and none.

Lori and Neil were still stationed on the couch in the corner. David and Ev kept them company while I guarded my man from other women. Or something like that. Honestly, I wasn’t having a very good time. The argument earlier had left me on edge and I didn’t fit with this crowd. There were music reporters and industry types, a mixed assortment of the rich and famous all gathered together to kick off the tour.

“Pumpkin?” Mal called again.

I turned to face him.

“Oh, there you are. Hey. I have an announcement to make,” hollered Mal. “Everyone. Yo!”

The crowd quieted, all heads turning his way. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Lot of shit’s been happening lately. Got me thinking about things.” He gazed over at his parents. “Life’s short and you gotta make it count, take the time to be with the people you love. Keep ’em close to you. So I, ah … I’ve come to a decision. Right here, right now.”

He stared down at me, his brows nearly meeting above the straight line of his nose. And then, he sank down on one knee, on top of the coffee table. His hand reached out for mine and I took it, fingers numb with surprise.

“Marry me, Anne.”

My heart stopped. Holy fucking hell. He couldn’t be serious.

“What?”

“Yeah, marry me tonight,” he said, his voice clear to one and all. “We’ll fly down to Vegas on the red-eye. Be back in time for breakfast.”

Flashes went off around us, blinding me. But nothing else existed. There was only his beautiful, hopeful face, fading in and out of view.

“…So romantic,” whispered someone nearby.

“We can take the guys with us,” he said. “Go pick up Lizzy on the way. Even bring Reece if you want.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I’ll buy you the biggest fucking ring you’ve ever seen.”

No, really, was there no oxygen in this room?

“I know this is soon. And I know you’ve got some issues with marriage, but this is you and me. We’re solid.”

No, we weren’t. We’d just had a fight. We were always having fights and it’d only been … fuck, how many days? Yes, we could be good together. But we were only beginning; no way were we ready for this.

“C’mon, Anne.”

“It’s only been a week …”

“I need you to do this for me.”

“I’ll marry you, Mal!” Some bitch at the back of the room shouted. Others muttered their agreement.

“Why?” I searched his face, my heart beating overtime.

“Lots of reasons.”

I shook my head, stupefied.

“Please,” he said, staring into my eyes.

Neil was supporting Lori, they were standing right there, not four feet away, watching the whole thing. My stomach turned upside down. There was such hope on Lori’s face. She had her hands clutched to her chest, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Ev stood just past her with David and her lips were drawn, but her eyes … Fuck, they all actually thought this insane idea might work. Well, I guess Ev would, she’d done some crazy stuff in Vegas herself.

But this wasn’t romance. This was insanity.

“I need you to do this for me,” he repeated. “Take a chance, Anne.”

Take a chance on heartbreak and abandonment. All the pain and suffering I knew so well. I barely had a grip on being in a relationship and he wanted to make it legal and binding forever and ever until someone up and decided they’d had enough.

My shoulders curved in. “Mal … don’t.”

His gaze darted over my face. “You and me in Vegas. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

I stepped closer to him, trying for privacy. “I can’t marry you just to make your mom happy.”

“It’s more than that.”

“It’s not. If it weren’t for her being sick, there’s no way you’d be asking me this right now.”

“But–”

“I’m sorry. No.”

“Anne …”

I could see the exact moment he realized he wasn’t going to talk me into it. That he wasn’t going to get his way. His jaw hardened and he dropped my hand. In one smooth move he jumped off the coffee table and headed for the door. Any possible words stuck in my throat, choking me.

There he went. Going, going, gone.

He was gone.

Every eye in the room was on me. David followed Mal, and Ev appeared at my elbow. They really did have this shit down by now, managing drama the Stage Dive way. Jimmy and Ben stopped Adrian from following David and Mal. The manager gave me a look strongly encouraging me to curl up and die. I was so sick of this.

Something broke inside. The pain was excruciating.

It was really best just to get this dealt with.

Lori’s look was hesitant, sad. “Oh, Anne …”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and then I got the fuck out of there.

***

Mal didn’t return to our hotel room that night. There was no message from him the next day either. I went home.