by Casey, L. A.
“And that’s how you to stamp out a rumour.”
I smiled at Toni.
“It’s true about why we were in Southwold though,” Hayes chimed in. “Mr Jones, we’ve spoken about him a lot in interviews, was our school’s counsellor, PE teacher and our after-school music teacher. He bought us our first instruments with his own money, the man is a gent. We honestly love him.”
Toni pouted. “That’s so fucking cute.”
We chuckled.
“Angel,” Brian prompted. “You didn’t grow up with Mr Jones, how was meeting him?”
“He’s a great man,” Angel answered. “He was really welcoming to me, we jammed with him a little in the guys’ old music room. I had fun. I’ve heard so much about Mr Jones and the school rock days, experiencing a little of it made me understand how much of a connection the three of them have to Mr Jones, and Southwold overall.”
Brian was reading our fans’ comments on the live stream chat window.
“MayActonSitOnMyFace has a question for you guys.”
Each of us erupted into laughter, Hayes nearly fell off his bloody chair.
“Fuck’s sake.” May covered his face. “What’s the fucking question?”
“Is Mr Jones the original Sinner?”
“He’s actually not,” I said, rubbing my cheeks to stop smiling. “Mr Jones was the second Sinner, not the original.”
This surprised Brian and also excited him.
“Who was the original Sinner?”
“A girl who supported us from the get go,” I shifted. “She went to school with us.”
“She liked your voice?”
This came from Toni.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “She liked it, she liked our style too. She’s the one who encouraged me to put my focus into music, she’s sort of the reason for Blood Oath being Blood Oath.”
“Well,” Brian shook his head. “Millions of fans around the world definitely have a lot to thank this girl for.”
I chuckled. “We’re just like any other band. We love rock, we love the music we make. We’re just us.”
“Says the man who looks like a Greek god,” Toni mused. “Each of you are shockingly handsome, you’re all so talented too. You do understand most rock stars just have talent, not looks. You have both in spades.”
We knew we had more females as fans because of how we looked. The majority of our fans were hardcore rock fans, but we weren’t stupid enough to think the extra attention we got was solely down to our music. Each of us was good looking, it had helped our careers so I never looked at it as a hindrance. I was the face of Hugo Boss and Calvin Klein, surprisingly they didn’t drop me after my fuck up. Apparently, my sobriety journey was great business for them. I was the underdog and everyone loved an underdog. The other three members had endorsements deals as well from skincare and hair products to aftershave.
Not being ugly . . . it helped us and that was just the way it was.
“If anyone is the Adonis of the group,” May said. “It’s me.”
Myself, and the other two, agreed wholeheartedly which made Toni widen her eyes.
“May is the band’s frontman when it comes to women?”
I grinned. “He calls me the main man but that title really belongs to him.”
“No way,” Toni shook her head. “I’ve seen how some women take to you, Risk Keller. You’re . . . mouth-watering.”
I kept eye contact with Toni as she spoke; I wondered how far she was willing to go with this conversation. She was eye fucking me. Thoroughly eye fucking me.
“Everyone expects me to be fucking every minute of every day,” I shook my head. “It’s not true . . . unfortunately.”
Everyone snorted.
“But you’ve had your fair share of, eh hem, pus-say.”
I rubbed my neck at Brian’s pretty blunt question.
“Yeah, but what rocker hasn’t? You know the saying. Sex, drugs and rock and roll. You can’t have one without the others. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
Everyone laughed at the jab to my own past, the crew more than my bandmates.
“You guys have been at this a long time . . . probably having sex longer, right?”
Only on Rock Stop would a person be asked when they had their cherry popped.
“Fifteen for me,” Hayes said, then May and Angel said, “Sixteen.”
I sighed. “I was freshly eighteen.”
“Liar,” Toni smirked at me. “I’ve seen pictures of you when you were eighteen, no way were you a virgin.”
“I’m telling the truth,” I assured her. “I was in a relationship back then so I waited until my girl was ready. It’s simple really.”
“I heard you mention a mysterious girlfriend a time or two in an interview.” Toni raised a brow. “Would she be the original Sinner?”
“Yup.”
I felt May look at me and I wondered if I’d revealed too much. I had always been selective when I spoke about Frankie, always making sure she was kept private, but something about the way Toni asked her question rubbed me the wrong way. Her tone was a little condescending. Like Frankie making me wait to have sex until she was ready was a lame thing to do. That irritated me.
Angel jumped in and casually turned the conversation back to our upcoming album and world tour next year. We answered some fan questions, Hayes spoke a little about his wife, Summer, and how she was adjusting to being married to a famous rock star. I zoned out a little. I kept thinking of the song we had begun on the journey here and that made me think of Frankie.
I can’t get enough of your green eyes, your soft skin, your sweet smile.
Those were the lyrics I had written on my notepad last night. It was obvious it was going to be another song about Frankie but this one felt like it was going to be different. In every other song another her was connected to the loss of love, or living without something. Even our upbeat belters had her in them. This song . . . I wanted this to be about how I felt over the past nine years, but also about how I felt now, having her back in my life.
I really wanted to write the bloody thing.
I was glad that half an hour later the interview ended and we said goodbye to everyone watching the live stream. We had just removed our headphones and stood to hug Toni and shake Brian’s hand when Toni leaned up and into my ear she whispered, “How about I show you a lovely empty room down the hallway?”
I hadn’t had sex since before I went to rehab; when I got off drugs and alcohol, I binned sex too. I didn’t even consider Toni’s offer, which told me I was still well and truly on the wagon, but also because Frankie’s face popped into my head.
“Sorry, Toni,” I politely kissed her cheek. “Rain check, yeah? I have to get back to Southwold, I have a song I need to write.”
She pouted up at me but nodded. When we left the building and got back into the rental, the guys turned and looked at me. I froze under their watchful gazes. I lifted my hands to my face, paranoid I had dirt on my skin or something. Or that I’d done something wrong.
“What?” I questioned. “I didn’t do anything.”
I hated that that was my go-to response even after all of these years of being free of the Days. It was a defensive stance I always took and had yet to shake off.
“Toni wanted to fuck you,” May blinked. “You shot her down.”
“Why?” Angel quizzed. “Why not fuck her? You’re in a dry spell.”
A self-imposed dry spell.
“I know why,” Hayes grinned. “It has to do with a little redhead in Southwold, am I right? The one who you’re just friends with?”
I scowled at the three of them.
“Suck my dick, the three of you.”
They laughed and turned forward in their seats. We left London and headed back to Southwold. I checked the time and cringed; I would cut it fine picking Frankie up from work. I’d have to table writing the song until later with the guys, which they were fine with. It took over three hours to get back home,
the guys got out at May’s house and settled on ordering takeaway, while I jumped in the driver’s seat and bucked it to Mary Well’s. I pulled into the car park just as Frankie was walking out of the diner. I pulled alongside her and lowered the passenger window.
“Where are you off to, good looking?” I asked with a teasing grin. “I hope you were coming to find me.”
“You said you’d pick me up so I didn’t drive.” She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I . . . I thought that maybe you forgot about me.”
“Forget about you?” I repeated. “Cherry, if I haven’t been able to forget you over the past nine years, eighteen hours isn’t gonna do the trick.”
When she smiled, calmness filled me.
“Get in, Frodo,” I grinned. “I have something I wanna do after we visit your mum.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRANKIE
“You look like you’re going to rob a bank.”
Risk’s eyes crinkled at the corners, telling me he was smiling.
“Covering up is essential when I go out. Sinners are everywhere, y’know? Even in Southwold.”
I snorted. “At least with it being winter you get away with covering up so much without sticking out like a sore thumb.”
He nodded as we walked down the hallway of the hospice towards my mother’s room.
“Remember,” I reminded gently. “Michael might be a little cold towards you.”
“I know,” Risk straightened his coat. “He has every right to be pissed at me for how I treated you.”
“I didn’t tell him anything other than that you talked down to me a little, he would probably square up to you if he knew how much of an arse you were.”
Risk glanced down at me, his eyebrows raised. “He’s that protective over you?”
“He’s like my dad in many ways,” I said with a nod. “He loves me. I love him.”
Risk was silent as I brought us to a stop. I knocked on the door of Mum’s room, then let myself in. Mum was asleep, as usual, and Michael was perched in the armchair reading a newspaper. He looked up when I entered, adjusted his glasses and smiled, but that smile faltered when Risk stepped into the room after me, ducking slightly to avoid hitting the top of the door-frame.
“It’s okay,” I told Michael. “He stopped by my place last night to apologise, we’ve hashed it out.”
Michael didn’t look convinced.
“Ye apologised to her good and true?” he asked Risk, not blinking as he stared him down. “Because disrespectin’ her is disrespectin’ me. I don’t care who ye are, I won’t have it.”
Risk stepped around me, removing his scarf from around his face as he went.
“Yes, sir, I apologised. I said things that I shouldn’t have and I treated Frankie poorly. She didn’t deserve it, I know that. I was a massive prick.”
“I’ll say,” Michael grunted.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble, Dr O’Rourke.” Risk held his hands up. “I just wanted to visit Mrs O’Rourke, that’s all.”
Michael looked at me. “You’re happy with this, Frank?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “We spoke about it last night when he stopped by.”
“Okay then,” Michael said, then took a couple of steps forward and held out his hand. “Thank you for comin’ by and welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Risk closed the space between them and shook my stepdad’s hand. “Congratulations, too. On your marriage . . . I know I’m a bit late.”
Nearly a whole decade, but who was counting?
Michael snorted. “Thanks.”
I sat on my usual seat on the right of Mum’s bed, Risk pulled up the spare chair from against the window and sat next to me. When he was settled, I watched as he took in my mum’s frail body. His eyes widened a little, but he quickly masked his expression of shock, probably not to hurt my or Michael’s feelings. I leaned over and nudged him until he looked my way.
“It’s okay to be shocked,” I said gently. “She’s very ill, and we know she’s changed a lot over the past nine years.”
Risk cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry that she is going through this . . . such a lovely woman, I hate when bad things happen to good people like her.”
“Me too,” Michael agreed, looking at Mum. “But me wife’s illness has made sure that meself and Frankie never leave an ‘I love you’ unspoken. We never walk away in anger or leave a conversation unresolved and we always, always, thank God for each day we have with my Amanda. Every second with her is a blessin’ and we know it.”
I bobbed my head in wholehearted agreement.
Risk was startled when Mum suddenly began coughing. Both Michael and I got up to help her sit up when she woke up and automatically tried to move her body upright. I grabbed her hanky and gave it to her, she pressed it against her mouth and coughed until the fit passed. Michael didn’t call for a nurse, he checked Mum’s vitals and decided she’d benefit from some oxygen so he turned it on and fixed the mask over her face. She needed the mask more often than not now.
When she settled back against the pillow I had just fluffed up, her eyes landed on Risk, who was still sitting in his chair and staring at her.
“Who’re you?”
The question snapped him out of his trance.
“I’m Risk,” he smiled. “Risk Keller. Lovely to meet you.”
Michael snorted and shook his head when Mum began to tuck her hair behind her ears and adjusted her nightgown with her shaking hands. I put my hand over my mouth, sat back down and laughed. Risk took her trembling hand when she held it out to him. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.
“Very handsome,” Mum told him. “Do you h-have a wife? I’m a . . . widower.”
“Oh my god,” I dropped my hand, laughing louder. “Mum!”
Mum didn’t pay me any mind, Risk was her only focus.
“Well,” Risk said. “It’s my lucky day, because I’m very much single.”
Mum’s giggle was so wonderful to hear, her openly flirting with Risk made both Michael and I smile her way. This type of interaction with her massively beat one of her coughing fits or when she got angry or upset. She relaxed against her bed, looked at Michael and said, “I changed the alarm code.”
I hated her wheeze, I wanted nothing more than to take it away from her.
“Did ye?” he asked. “To what?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I know. I wanted the big vase . . . instead.”
I glanced at Risk and he looked at me, blinking.
“She’s very easily confused,” I murmured. “Having a solid conversation with her is rare. We just go with it.”
“Nurse,” she said to me. “I don’t need . . . help, you can . . . leave.”
I bit back a laugh at the dismissal.
“Can I stay a few minutes longer? I’m enjoying your company.”
Mum sighed. “Okay.”
She looked back at Risk and her eyes widened.
“Hello.”
I laughed again. “Oh my days.”
Risk and Mum had another introduction, then there were conversations about nothing for a couple of hours before she got a bit cranky and let Michael talk her into resting. When she fell asleep, I kissed Michael, and Mum, goodbye. Risk shook my stepdad’s hand and touched Mum’s. When we left the hospital, Risk was really quiet. I knew he was processing his reunion with my mum and I wanted to give him time to straighten things out in his head before we spoke because it was a lot to deal with, especially when you were new to someone who has a disease such as Alzheimer’s.
When we drove back to Southwold, I broke the silence as we drove through town.
“You wanna talk about the visit?”
“Yeah,” he answered in a rushed breath. “I just don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I repeated. “What for?”
“For your mum being so ill . . . Frank, you have to deal with that every day. Her not knowing who you are, watching her get sicke
r. I hate that for you and Michael, and I hate it worse of all for your lovely mum.”
A lump formed in my throat.
“Like Michael said,” I looked out of the window. “We’re grateful for each day with her, the good, the bad and the ugly.”
Risk remained silent.
“She’s dying,” I said, clenching my hands into fists. “Her health is declining rapidly. She’s been in the hospice for two months now; the doctor gave her six months at most. I know her time to go is fast approaching, Michael does too. It’s just, if we focus on that we’ll miss moments like the ones you shared with her tonight. You know?”
“Yeah, Cherry,” I felt Risk look at me. “I know.”
I laughed then when he said, “How does it feel to know that your mum thinks I’m sexy?”
“Sexy?” I repeated. “I believe she called you handsome, not sexy.”
“Are you sure?” he teased. “The way she looked at me, she thought I was more than handsome.”
I tittered, shaking my head.
“Mum’s always been a Sinner,” I mused. “But it’ll break your heart to know that her heart has always been May’s.”
“Typical.” Risk mock growled. “May is everyone’s favourite.”
Before I thought better of it, I said, “Not mine.”
I kept my gaze locked on the passing town. Risk said nothing, which I was thankful for. The feeling of embarrassment passed when confusion took over. When we parked in the car park at Southwold Pier, I looked at Risk, who pulled the handbrake up and switched the car off.
“This is where you wanted to go after visiting my mum?” I quizzed. “The pier? You want to go walking?”
“Yep,” he chirped. “The last time I walked to the end of this pier and stared out at the ocean was with you . . . I don’t like being here without you.”
I had no idea what to say to that, so I followed his lead by getting out of the car. Risk pressed on the car fob and locked the vehicle. I fell in step next to him and we began walking towards the pier’s entrance. It was night-time, so the café, restaurant and gift shops along the pier were closed. It was freezing out too so we were the only idiots dumb enough to be outside walking, but I kind of liked it. I liked that we had the place all to ourselves. Even though it was very cold, the ocean was calm and there was only a slight breeze.