Текст книги "Memphis Black"

Автор книги: M. J. Fields

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“Fine!” She slaps the tears now falling down her face. “I want you to trust me and know I would never avoid telling you the truth again. And not just for you, for me, too, because it hurts right here.” She holds her hand over her chest. “I wish I had kept you a fantasy because it hurts too much right here.” She hits her chest harder now.

“Don’t do that, Tales. Jesus.” I grab both her hands in one of mine.

“I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you, and—”

“Don’t you say that shit to me right now,” I snap at her, and she looks scared. “Fuck!” Forever Steel equals forever fucked right now. Dammit!

“Sorry, but I had to tell you, or if you’ll let me, I’ll show you.” She has just opened up completely to me, and I can do fuck-not about it.

“Can’t let that happen now, either.”

She nods and sniffs loudly. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just—”

I take her hand and shove it down the front of my pants. “Feel this, Tales, but be nice.” I push her hand farther in, and she gasps.

“What happened to you? Do you have a—”

“I liked it, so I put a fucking ring on it.”

“What?” She almost laughs the nervous laugh I enjoy so much.

I pull her hand away. “It’s a dolphin”—I almost smirk—“topped with a prince. Google it then call me in about four to six weeks and tell me what you told me a few seconds ago.

“Fuck fuckity fuck!” I turn to walk away and stop. “Go eat dinner with my sister!” I bark “Fuck, Tales, I have to get out of here.” I turn back and kiss her. Can’t help myself, but it’s quick. “Don’t ever keep shit from me again.”

“I won’t, not ever.”

Damn right you won’t, I think. “Tales?”

“Yes?”

She is smiling, and I know she expects me to say the words back, but that’s not going to happen right now. I have got to be pissed, or I’ll never have the upper hand.

“Next time you see me, you’ll be on your knees, and I’m gonna be so backed up you’re gonna have to chew my come before you swallow it.”

I Googled dolphin and prince as soon as I got home from dinner with Madison, which was a couple of hours later. We had a lot to talk about.

Offensive!

Intimidating!

Interesting …

And …

Intriguing.

Madison sends me a text three days later. Memphis doesn’t.

It’s a partial tour schedule.

I swallow hard and have to sit down as I read over it, then send back a text.

That’s amazing! He deserves this and so much more. Is his hand okay? Is he healing well? Is he resting? That schedule looks grueling.

She doesn’t respond. I look at the phone for a good two hours, waiting.

There’s a knock at the door, and I open it.

“Tales?” the deliveryman with a huge basket full of white Gerber daisies asks.

I nod and smile. I even laugh as I take them.

“Thank you so much.” Then I hug him. Why? I have no idea.

“You do know they’re not from me, don’t you?” He looks confused.

“Yes, yes, of course I do. Sorry.” I shut the door because he starts to look at me funny, and not funny as in ha, ha. Funny as in creepy.

I carry them to the table, set them down, and grab the card.

It reads:

Heads, you stop worrying. Tails, keep that shit up. It makes me happy. Either way, Tales wins– MB

My mom comes in and sees the flowers and looks at me suspiciously.

“They’re beautiful, right?” I ask.

“Yes. Who are they from?”

“MB, so it’s either Madison or Memphis.”

“Memphis Black?” She looks at me strangely, and I nod. “Be careful, Tallia. He lives in a much different world, honey.”

A week passes, and the dance tour company hands out the travel schedule as we leave rehearsal. It’s more than seventy-five percent West Coast cities. My knee-jerk reaction is to take a picture of it and text it to Madison, but right now, I have thirteen seven-year-olds who love ballet stretching and waiting for their class to start. They make my day brighter for sure. They actually make three days a week brighter, and they are my absolute favorite class to teach.

The hour flies by and ends with a circle, all holding hands, all smiling, and all ready and excited for the next day.

The last part of my day is my least favorite class, but it pays well. It’s also three days a week, and an adult aerobic-dance class.

Nine hours of dance today, and I am exhausted. Exhaustion is something I welcome with open arms, though.

I walk out and punch the code to lock up for the night.

“Tallia?”

I look back to see where the raspy voice is coming from and see a blonde woman. She’s beautiful, standing in front of a black town car.

“Can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. I’ve been watching you for the past couple days. Two of my dancers take your class. You’re phenomenal.”  She steps forward and extends her hand; I shake it.

“Thank you.”

“One of my dancers fell and fractured her ankle during a practice last week. They mentioned you may be a perfect match to do a gig for a month, more if we mesh.”

“Sounds intriguing, but I am already part of a dance team, and we’re touring for three months.”

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, but I do my homework. I know what they pay, and I can double it.”

I look at her skeptically. “Nothing illegal?”

She smiles, which puts me at ease. “This isn’t normal for me. I don’t go looking for the talent, but when they talked you up, I had to make an exception. One month, double pay. Google me: I manage a band. When you see who I am, I know you’ll want in. It’s a good gig.” She hands me a card. “Give Jane a call; I need a decision tomorrow. If you don’t want in, I need to find someone fast.”

I take the card. “Thank you.”

“Double the pay, five hour days, and a fifteen hundred dollar bonus”—she looks down at my beat-up dance shoes hanging from my gym bag —“and I’ll throw in a decent pair of shoes.”

I start to walk away.

“Tallia?”

“Yes,” I say, turning around.

“I don’t need this getting out. There are people who love to talk shit about me, and I require anyone who works for me to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

“Understood.”

I finally make it home, thinking how nice it would be to buy a car and avoid the train. I normally don’t mind, but the three days a week that are long days kill me.

Mom is asleep. She has a long weekend planned with her church group. She seems happy now. She is smiling again, spreading sunshine.

I hear a light knock on the door as I smell the flowers. I walk over and look through the peephole.

My heart skips a beat and then another. He looks beautiful … And now he’s running his hands through his hair and turning around.

Quickly, I unlock the chain then the deadbolt, and I open the door.

“Hey,” I say, trying not to act like I am over-the-moon to see him. He turns around.

“Hey, back,” he says, looking down.

“Do you want to come in?” Dear God, he is beautiful even in cargo shorts, a tee shirt and that beanie.

“No.” He shakes his head slowly and then finally looks at me.

“Did you come to tell me you hate me?” My voice betrays me, showing the pain from the thought. He looks at me like I’m crazy, which makes me feel stupid. “’Cause you could have just sent a text.” I step out in the hall.

He sighs. “Did you get the flowers?”

“They are so beautiful. Thank you. Thank you so, so much.” This is a good sign, right?

“They still alive?” His nose scrunches up as he runs his hand over his black beanie.

“Yeah.”

He starts to take a step forward then stops himself. “They smell good, Tales?”

“You can come in and—”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. He looks in my eyes and groans then slowly grazes down my body with his eyes, and I feel my nipples strain against my leotard. “Tales?”

“Yes?” I say as I step back against the wall, seeking its cool comfort on my very warm body.

“I’m gonna be touring for a long time.” He may as well have thrown a bucket of ice water on me.

I open my eyes and look at him as I cross my arms in front of me.

He smirks, noticing the change in my demeanor. “You still gonna be here when I get back?”

“Is this where you want me to be, Memphis?” I feel my lip quiver. “Here?”

“Tales.”

“Have you forgiven me yet?”

“Yeah. Have you forgiven yourself?” I shake my head. “His death wasn’t your fault,” he tries to tell me.

I blow upward, trying to cool my eyes to stop the tears, to keep myself together. I don’t want to push him away by acting too needy.

Wanting to change the subject, I ask, “How is Madison?”

“Busy.” He chuckles. “We put her on travel detail.”

“Travel?”

“Find hotels, and book flights to tour cities. She works about thirty hours.”

“Will she travel with you?” I ask.

“Does she have to?”

I give him a confused look, suddenly feeling insecure, “Why are you asking me that?”

“Will you feel more comfortable if your best friend is hanging out with your … me?”

“Is she still my best friend? I mean—” I am all emotion right now and I don’t like it. I push myself back against the wall, wishing I could sink into it so I don’t reach out to him. All I want to do is hang on to him, any part of him.

“Damn, Tales.”

“I miss her. I miss you. I miss—” I finally admit.

“I miss you, too, but we have another three weeks before—”

“Three weeks?”

“I’m healing.” When I look at him without expression, he says, “The fucking dolphin prince needs to just chill the hell out for—”

“Your penis piercing?” I whisper.

“Yes,” he whispers back mockingly.

“Because of that … thing.”

“The Great and Powerful Oz?”

My jaw drops, and I have to cover my mouth so I don’t wake the entire building with my laughing.

He smirks. “Tales, you don’t laugh when a dude talks about his dick.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. I’d like you and me to figure it out together.”

“Together?”

He looks around as if he’s lost something. “Were you not the one I nailed under the stairs? Do you have a fucking doppelganger? If you do, before I make any sort of commitment, I really want the three of us to get together at least once.”

“You still want me?” my voice squeaks with excitement and emotion.

He smiles and nods. “Yeah, Tales.”

I walk up and hug him, taking care not to push against him. “Does it hurt?”

He wraps his arms around me, returning the hug. “What?”

“When you’re hard?” I whisper in his ear.

“Wow. Shit, apparently not. It’s gonna when I can’t be up in you, though.” He grinds against me.

“Why did you do it?” I ask as his nose runs across my hair, and he inhales.

He pulls back to look me in the eye. “I was pissed at you, pissed enough that I was afraid, if I went on tour, I would fuck whatever I could to feel something other than angry for a while.”

“You were going to have sex with the—”

“Gaggle of groupies,” he confirms with a nod, “until I stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized I’m not just Forever Steel. I’m kind of forever Tales, too.”

I look up at him, wishing, hoping. I know I’m pleading with my eyes for him to tell me what I desperately want to hear from him.

“All that shit you said to me the other night.” I frown at him, and he corrects himself. “I mean, stuff, Tales, not shit. Shit, you know that.” I nod. “All the talk about me being your fantasy has sent me into my head so deeply I can’t even begin to understand it all myself. But I do know that, for years—and when I say years, I mean it—I have been drawn to you.

“When we were kids at church, your old man saw me looking at you. It wasn’t like I wanted to bang you; I was just watching you and how you acted, how the girl who smiled and was kind to everyone held herself together. I suppose I have been in awe of you since then.

“One day, your father caught me watching you and said, ‘Do you know what happens to sinners, young man?’ I told him no, I didn’t. I was a fucking kid! He looks at me and says, ‘They burn in hell.’

“I fucking laughed in his face. Hell, he preached God’s love and was pegging me at ten years old as a sinner. He didn’t think that shit was funny. I wasn’t thinking about banging you back then, Tales. I was fucking ten.

“He told me, ‘If you have sexual desires for her, you best get down on your knees and pray, young man.’” Memphis shakes his head. “I had no clue what he was talking about. Sex was far from my mind. I was into Legos or some other shit my old man bought, promising he’d spend time doing it with me and then bailing.

“I figured out about sex really quickly after that, and you, Tales, were my first fantasy. I mean, I’m not sure it was planned, but I thought about you, and I thought about sex. I thought about sex, and I thought about you. You understand what I’m saying?”

I nod and he continues, “You were also untouchable, too good for me: sweet, kind, innocent, all the things I never was. I also wanted to protect you from the little fucks who picked on you, but you would just smile in their faces like an angel. I was never gonna be good enough, so I didn’t even give it a second thought until Miami.”

I push up on my toes and grab his face in my hands. His admission, his confession, make me not only love him, but want him even more. “I hope you know better now. I’m no angel.”

“And … that’s my cue,” he groans and steps back, his massive erection prominently on display. “I’m out, Tales, like a boner in sweatpants.” He takes something out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Don’t give this up again.”

I nod, watching him walk away. Then I open the apartment door, and as I shut it behind me, I whisper, “I love you, Memphis Black.”

I look down at the phone in my hand where I have a message already from him.

See you soon, sweet cheeks.

When, I want to ask, but I don’t.

Morning comes too early. They all have lately. I toss and turn and think of what commitment and being on the road means.

I got Mads a job, hoping it would give her something to do. She and Mom are all sorts of emotional lately. Mom, she, and I aren’t on bad terms, but when I found out Mom knew for a couple years that Dad was all kinds of freaky, I was kind of pissed.

She was unapologetic and told me, when I had children someday, I would understand her choices. I’m not sure that’s true, not even sure I want kids.

Kids? I grab my phone and send Tales a message.

You on the pill yet?

I get a response twenty minutes later.

I have an appointment next week. <3

Chick doctor?

Does it matter? <3

Does a bear shit in the woods?

Some do it at the zoo. <3

Dolphin be damned, I need to see her. It’s not like I can sleep, anyway.

Dinner tonight?

You sure you have time for me? <3

I call her immediately, and she hangs up. What the fuck?

You fucking kidding me right now?

It was meant as a joke. I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. <3

I’ll pick you up at eight.

I won’t be back until nine. <3

My bad. It’s Wednesday, right? You teach the kids.

Shit, did I really just send that? What the fuck!

Stalking me? <3

Nine p.m.

***

“You’re early,” Xavier says when I walk in the front door of Forever Four.

“Yeah. I have another song.”

“Is it good?”

I look at him like what the fuck?

“What? Is it? You know whether you write shit and whether you write something good.”

“Everything I write is—”

“No, man, how about “Come fly with me”? That was shit.” He shakes his head. “Then you follow it up with “Soaring,” and that was shit and—”

“Fine, just have a lot on my mind; that’s all.”

“Spill it,” X says, pointing to his office.

We head back, and he sits down behind his desk.

“I left my vagina at home. Maybe—” I start to walk away.

“Shut the hell up and sit.”

“No really—”

“Tallia Priest, sister’s best friend. You—”

“What the fuck?” I snap

“Billy,” we both say at the same time, and Xavier laughs.

“And your parents are having problems. Add all that plus preparing to take STD to the top, and it’s hard. I get it, so spill.”

I sit down and shake my head.  I tell him damn near everything, even about my dad.

“Okay, well, that’s …” He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head.

“Fucked up? Yeah, it is.” I feel my blood boil.

“Have you confronted him yet?” Xavier asks.

“You want me on stage or in jail?”

“I hear ya. Maybe he’s not gay.”

“Well, what the fuck, then? Was he just holding it in his mouth till the swelling went down?”

Xavier sucks in his cheeks and tries not to laugh.

“Laughing won’t offend me. I’ve been between rolling fits of laughter and ready to knock him out. The shit kicker is I say he’s a piece of shit out loud or joke around to the wrong person, and I’m labeled as some fucking gay basher when I’m not. I am bashing the fact that the asshole who raised me is a fucking heap of shit who lied to his family and ruined our lives and the life of a girl who means a lot to me.”

“I feel you.” He sits forward in his chair. “I’m also pretty damn proud that you are thinking of the backlash it would have on you.”

“And the band. Fucking wackos everywhere would be following us and ruining us before we even really get a chance.”

“And the girl?”

I look up and shake my head. “She’s the most down-to-earth chick in the world.”

“And you like her?”

I stand up and walk to the window that overlooks the parking lot. “Yeah. Known her forever, but this life … I don’t know.”

“I understand,” he says, “but how are you gonna know if you don’t try?”

I turn around and sit against the windowsill. “I just want her to stay her. How fucked up is that? I should want to shower her with gifts, help her get a place for her and me when I’m home, buy her some damn clothes that aren’t second-hand.”

“Look, it sounds to me like you want a kept woman. That’s not fair to her,” he begins, but I cut him off.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No. You don’t want her in second-hand clothes and to have a place to tuck her away when you’re on the road.”

I laugh, and he scowls at me. “Sounds bad when you say it like that,” I admit.

“Not my words, yours.” He waits for me to explain, and when I don’t, he says, “Oh, I see how it is.”

“You see how what is?”

He stands up and walks toward the door.

“That’s it?” I yell behind him.

“Sure is, man.” He chuckles. “Sure is.”

I follow him out. “I don’t want this life to suck her in and change a fucking thing about the girl I love.”

He turns around and smiles. “Yep, I saw how it was and I get it. I also know you gotta figure it out for yourself. If it comes easy, it doesn’t always stay. You’ve got this, but like everything, you gotta work to find a way to make it happen. Now, go give me a song, not some shit.”

I walk out of the sound booth an hour later.

Nickie D pats me on the back. “Platinum in six months.”

“Hey,” Xavier calls from behind. “Band chat.”

“Band chat?” Nickie raises his eyebrow. “Which one of you did some shit I’m gonna have to get you out of?”

“You were with me, so my buck’s on River.” I laugh.

We walk into the conference room and sit. Finn is chewing on a pen cap, staring at his notebook; River is baby talking to Xavier’s kid, who’s in some jumpy thing; and Billy is messaging on his phone.

“Okay, listen up.” X-man starts. “The talk about the opening act contest has gone fucking viral. We aren’t just getting rock bands; we’re getting Americas Got Talent shit. So, Taelyn, Nickie D, and I have decided we are going to step in until we get this record produced or find some people who know talent.”

“Groupies know talent.” River laughs, and so does the kid. “Yeah, they do. Huh, little buddy? Fist bump.” He holds up his fist, and the kid literally taps his fist with his hand. “We’ll work on that.”

“Or until Patrick understands what the hell is going on, which looks to be any day now.” Xavier looks at Taelyn and shakes his head. “This is happening too damn fast. It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” She laughs and picks the kid up. “Lunch time.”

“See? Your damn fault,” he scolds her, but when she walks away, he smiles.

He returns the focus to the task at hand. “As much as you all are dying to be involved, we’ve got it for the first few dates. Shit’s subject to change, and I really would like you guys to be part of this. It’s good for your image. Show support and love for the community, and they’ll show it for you. We all on the same page here?”

“I’ll help whenever, X,” River offers.

“Sober?” Xavier asks.

“Right now I am, but not gonna promise that in a couple hours. Besides, I’m at my fucking best when I’m in my own head.”

“But not passed out on stage, River,” Xavier warns, looking at him and trying his best not to yell.

“I kept my shit together for the Burning Souls tour; I will be doing the same for ours.”

“Travel is booked. Madison has done really well at that, and she’s working with Taelyn on social media promotion of the band. Nickie and I are trying to set up interviews and radio spots in cities where we are playing. And the album,” he pauses and smiles, “fucking insane.”

“Epic,” Nickie concurs.

“Orgasmic.” River laughs.

***

There’s a man here with a car, and it’s not you. <3

He’s gonna bring you to me.

So I should trust a man with a black town car who may possibly resemble someone from an Italian mafia movie and not an OBGYN who works in an office surrounded by people because he has a penis? <3

Enough finger tapping. Get in the car.

A little while later, I see her get out of the car and look around. Her shoulders sag a bit, but there is no regret on my end.

I’m sitting outside my mom’s home by the outdoor fire pit with my acoustic when she walks up.

“Come on over here,” I say as I put a foot on the bench and pat between my legs.

She smiles a little. “Is that safe?”

“I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out.”

She walks up, sits between my legs, and leans back. “If you get uncomfortable, let me know. I’ve sat on this bench a million times, for hours on end.”

“Listening to a dumb kid strum his guitar and watching him dream.”

“He wasn’t dumb.”

I laugh. “Are we going to argue about younger me, Tales?”

“No. I just wanted you to know that I’m perfectly comfortable on this bench.”

“I wasn’t talking about the bench, Tales. I was talking about the harpoon that will very possibly be poking you in the back any second now.”

She looks up and smiles. “I see.”

I lean down and kiss her, and she gives it right back. After a couple of minutes, I pull back and groan.

“Does it hurt?”

“What, Tales?”

“The wizard.” She blushes

“No. I was thinking about a new song. Mouth open, tongue in … I better stop there.”

“Sounds very interesting,” she says.

I reach behind the bench and grab the bag I brought for her. “I hit Yelp up and found a couple vintage shops, so I got you some things.”

She smiles and takes the bag, not opening it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Aren’t you gonna look at it?” She leans against me fully and looks over her shoulder.

“I’d rather look at you while I have you.”

“Play along, Tales.” I kiss the top of her head and push the bag toward her.

I watch her open the bag and smile. She pulls out the first one—a Kermit the frog T-shirt.

“When I look at you, I see cartoons and everything in vivid color,” I tell her.

“Cartoons?” she whispers

“Yeah.” I laugh. “You used to come over after school and watch them with Mads. You would laugh at the same damn jokes over and over.”

“They were funny.”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t have noticed; I was too busy being amused by how damn easily you smiled.” She looks at me and smiles. “Like that, Tales.”

“I like smiling.”

“Thank God, because I love your smile.”

She pulls out the next. “Star Wars?”

“Vintage, and Billy went with me. He likes that shit.”

“Do you?”

“I did as a kid, and so did you. Mads hated it.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s more.” I point to the bag.

She reaches in and pulls out another tee—Rolling Stones.

“It’s vintage, but new.”

“I like it.” Her smile is bigger now as she reaches in for another one.

Pearl Jam, The Doors, The Who—one after another, she pulls out the T-shirts, grinning from ear to ear. She then pulls out the long skirts, all thin material and flowing.

“So, I was thinking … I don’t want you to change because of me, I want you to be the same girl I have been drawn to since forever. I want you in clothes that don’t scream groupie, and I want you naked in my bed. I’m scared to death that my lifestyle will change you, and I want nothing to do that. Not me, not the road, not a damn thing, Tales.”

She turns and looks at me. “I’m not changing.”

“I need you to soar, too, Tales. Follow your dreams, not mine.”

“I am.”

“I know.” I push her hair away from her eyes and then pull her toward me, just so I can smell her. God, she smells good all the damn time and everywhere, too.

“Look, I found a little house on the shore. I want it to be a place where you and me, you know …”

“Have sex?”

“Well, yeah, but maybe … I don’t know. Fuck, Tales, live together?”

“I live with my mom, Memphis. She needs me.”

“I need you, too.”

“I’ll be there for you anytime, anywhere.”

“Good. Then you’ll move in.”

“Memphis …”

“Tales, I’m serious. I’m gonna be on the fucking road the whole damn month of September, and that’s just a start. If I can grab a plane and get home, I want your ass there, ready for—”

“I’m going on tour with my dance company, Memphis. When we’re in town at the same time, I will be—”

I’m still trying to swallow that pill– her being on the road and shit– but this whole ‘Soar Memphis’ has me tripping.

“I love you, Tales. What the fuck? I’m asking you to—”

“You what?” she asks, stunned.

“I love you, and—”

“Stop. Just stop at that and let me enjoy that before you go and attach strings to it, okay?”

“Attach strings? Wow, Tales, that’s fucked up.” She’s acting like she didn’t say she loved me, and she fucking does. I know it.

“No, Memphis. Love is not fucked up.”

Insta-tarpoon. Tally said fuck, and she knows I’m hard because I am railing her in the back right now.

“It’s new. We are going in two different directions and—”

“Cut the shit, Tales!” I snap. “Tell me what you want.” And do it now, I want to scream.

“You. Just you and me and every second we can get together, without”—she smiles and moves her back from side to side slightly—“obstacles in our way. I want you, but I want me, too. What you just said”—she holds up the clothes—“what you did … You want the same thing.”

“All right, then.” I put my guitar on the ground.

Fucking head-trip. A motherfucking head-trip. I need an answer or duct tape and cuffs.  Either one would work right about now, so I’m gonna step away to figure out what defensive move I’m gonna need to take.

“Look, I need to get some sleep—”

“Memphis?” She stands up slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

She giggles as she turns to walk away.

“Tales, don’t go.”

She looks back.

“Go with me.”

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter; just come with me.”

And here we go again. Fuck!