“Before we start, is Jack there with you?”
I look at Jack and his gaze meets mine with intensity. We have to decide, fast. Fortunately he doesn’t take more than about a second to close his eyes and shake his head. Keeping Eli in the dark doesn’t necessarily mean we’d do the sting, but it leaves that door open.
“Nope,” I tell him, trying to sound casual. “They’re all in Matt’s room, working on the song for the film.” If I was alone, I’d be trembling like I was back in that bathroom lounge. Jack sitting beside me changes everything.
“I’ve been following you guys in the press. You seem happy. Looks to me like Jack doesn’t know about our friendly talk in Florida.” Friendly? Is this asshole fucking serious?
“No. He doesn’t,” I confirm. “Why are you calling Eli?” I ask for the third fucking time.
“See? I knew you were smart.” His tone is cocky. He clearly doesn’t realize I’m also impatient. It’s easy to see he’s trying to see how long he can go without answering my question; how long he can hold onto the upper hand in this conversation.
“Eli, somehow I doubt the reason you called was to tell me how smart I am. Get to the point.”
There’s a pause. I look at the screen to see that the call is still connected and then return it to my ear before Eli speaks.
“Little feisty… alright then,” he says, almost hesitantly, like he really did call just to toy around with me and not with an actual purpose. “I wanted to follow up on getting together; becoming more comfortable with each other. I think there are some things we could… smooth over.” He draws out the word ‘smooth’ and my stomach roils, threatening me with upcoming bile. I reach my hand out to Jack and he laces our fingers together. He’s showing remarkable restraint by not moving. Or yelling. Or reaching through the phone. Instead, he gives me a squeeze and I let it infuse me with another dose of courage.
“What do you mean, ‘get together’?” I ask, making sure he can hear the skepticism in my voice.
“I mean the two of us. I think once you and I are in a better place, I can better do my job for Turn it Up. It’s difficult to have a working relationship with a client that is full of friendship and trust when things aren’t right between you and someone close to them.”
I’m listening to his words and dissecting each one of them as I try to find something in the room to focus on so that I don’t lose my cool. Too bad my sights didn’t land on anything more interesting than an electrical outlet, but still, I stare at it as Eli continues.
“So,” the pitch of his voice rises to one that’s lighthearted, and I can envision him sitting back in his office, where I assume he is, and kicking his feet up. “I suggest we spend a little time together, get to know one another on a friendlier level, dissolve any discomfort. And who knows…” his voice gets lower, into what he probably thinks sounds seductive, “who knows where things might go.”
Jack still isn’t making any sudden movements, but I can see in my peripheral that he’s taking deep breaths in through his nose and letting them out the same way, unbelievably quiet.
“I can tell by your silence how tense you are, Kitten. We need to rectify that. Just one evening…” he pushes, trying to sound persuasive. “I’m thinking New York. I have the guy’s schedule and I know you’ll be there for a few days. And you know I’m there a lot so I think it’s the perfect time. The guys will be busy with the concerts and morning shows and what-not. That leaves you plenty of down time.” He puts the emphasis just slightly on the word down. I want to throw up. All over him.
Jack gives my hand another squeeze, boosting the effects of the last one. I look up from the outlet and out the window, watching each little splat of rain make contact with the pane. I still say nothing. If I tell him no, he’ll take it out on the band somehow and we won’t be able to catch him doing it. And I’m sure as hell not going to respond with Gee, Eli. I’d love to. That sounds just peachy. Besides, he could use my agreeing to it against me somehow. Hello rock, hard place… can I sit between you?
Fortunately, Eli spares me the deliberation.
“Do you need some time to think it over? That’s fine. You’ve got about a week and a half before you’re going to be there anyway.” There are a few more shows up the coast, and then Thanksgiving before the guys pick the tour back up in NYC. “And I won’t have anything for the guys while you’re mulling it over, so… plenty of time to think.” There he goes. Saying one thing, but implying something else. “I’ll be in touch again soon,” he concludes ominously, before I hear a click and the call disconnects.
An enormous breath blows out of me. “Uggghhh!” I grunt out in disgust as Jack and I both jump to our feet. We’re both pacing back and forth as the dogs watch curiously from their snoozing places on the couch. I’m shaking my hands out at my sides like I’m trying to rid my body of thousands of little Eli-insects, and Jack alternates between resting his hands on his hips and punching one fist into the palm of the other.
“That fucking asshole! Piece of shit!” he growls out as he continues to pace. He blows out a frustrated breath. “I will fucking kill him…” he says, stopping mid-stride and shaking his head. “Son of a bitch!” He starts pacing again as I stop.
“Jack, your voice,” It’s still gravelly and husky.
“Baby…” he starts as he gives me a warning look that says to not even think about asking him to calm down right now.
I toss his warning glare right back at him. “Don’t let Eli be the reason you can’t sing tomorrow night.”
He drops his head back to look at the ceiling and lets out a long, exasperated sigh. The effects of my time in the tub are long gone. I’m stiff with tension and breaking out into goosebumps, my still-wet hair dripping on my skin. I push it out of my face with both hands and clasp them behind my neck as I close my eyes, trying to find my calm.
Jack looks over at me and his eyes soften before he takes a more clarifying breath. “I’m sorry. Sweetheart, are you okay?”
I close my eyes again and shake my head. “Uh, yeah,” I blow out a breath of my own. “I’m some weird combo of freaked out and pissed off.”
He walks over and takes my hand in one of his while holding my chin with the other, looking down at me with admiration. “You did great, my love.” He’s returned his voice to a whisper.
A scoff comes out on a breath as I sheepishly close my eyes. “I just sat there.”
“Which was the right thing to do at that moment,” Jack says, still whispering, possibly just to appease me. “And before that, you weren’t taking his shit. That’s my girl, I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah well… you were there,” I return coyly, giving him a one shoulder shrug. If I was brave it was because he was right there, making me feel safe. Just like always.
“Which is where I’m going to be throughout this whole thing. Right by your side.” He raises my hand and presses a kiss to the tattoo on the inside of my wrist that matches his. It’s like the elegantly lopsided heart begins to glow with warmth from him doing so. And there’s my calm.
He turns to grab his cell phone off the bed, taps the screen and puts it to his ear.
“Ron,” he starts, speaking carefully in his normal voice. “The asshole just called Mayzie, can you get up here? Thanks.” He then whips his phone back on the bed in frustration, like the mere mention of the asshole in question stoked his flames again. But he resumes whispering and looking at me lovingly when he says, “You should get dressed, baby. Ron’s on his way up.”
JACK
“That’s a burner phone,” Detective Morris says from the speaker of my phone that sits on the coffee table.
Ron is sitting in a chair kitty-corner to the couch Maze and I are on. She’s curled up in the corner in her yoga pants and black hoodie. Her hair is still damp, and she has Penny half lying in her lap like a security blanket. When Ron got up to our room, we filled him in and then we immediately called Morris and did the same. He asked for the number Eli called f
rom and was immediately able to see that he covers his bases.
I keep reliving the whole conversation. Mayzie was incredible, not that I expected anything less. I’ll still do everything in my power to keep her out of that sting, but I’m beginning to see what Matt was talking about with her. Eli ambushed her again, but this time, she armored up quick. She quickly adapted to her situation, using what she’s learned about the dipshit.
“Not only did he escape all those previous charges, he learned from them too,” Morris adds. “I know you guys haven’t decided what to do yet, but he pretty much just gave you one hell of an opportunity to catch him in New York. He’s pursuing an encounter, most likely a private one. It’ll be in NYPD’s jurisdiction, and even if it’s not my district, I have a lot of ties and can get privileges to work with the corresponding Intelligence Unit.”
“No, we haven’t decided, and I still think you should find an undercover female cop to do this,” I rasp sternly around the God-awful lozenge in my mouth.
“You heard that conversation: he’s not interested in anyone but Mayzie right now.” I grip my hands together in front of me. “I’m sorry Jack, but it is what it is. He’s obviously honed in on her. Sometimes Eli just plays and sometimes he plays a game. He’s playing a game at the moment. He doesn’t want someone easy to lure him. He’s in the mood to win a conquest.” And I’m seriously in the mood to snap his neck right now.
I look over at Mayzie. She’s still curled up in the corner of the couch, leaning her face on her hand. She says nothing, just closes her eyes and lets out a breath through her nose. She’s tired, and like me, doesn’t know what the hell to do. The idea of catching Eli by her getting proof is no more appealing to either of us than it was on day one. However, throwing a bunch of our money at him, and God knows how much he’d take us for, just to get away from him, is sounding less so by the minute.
After we wrap up the phone call with Morris, Ron leans back in his chair and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Damn, this son of a bitch is pissing me off.” He straightens up, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Listen, when you’re out in public, keep up appearances. He’s obviously watching, so…”
“Don’t let on that anything is wrong,” Mayzie quietly finishes for him as she stares into space.
“That’s right,” he says, blowing out a breath before standing. “You,” he turns to me. “While a singer is allowed to lose their voice and sing a less than stellar show once in a while, I don’t want to give the asshole any reason to call me and get a look at our cards. No more using your voice for the rest of the night. I want you back in commission for tomorrow night’s show.”
“Ron, come on…” I start to protest, and he holds his hand up.
“Shut your mouth. This is how we lay low. Business as usual. And you,” he turns to Mayzie and she glances up at him. “Good job tonight. Keep hanging tough.” With those parting words, he saunters out of the room, the door closing loudly behind him. If that was a New Kids reference, he’s getting his boxers frozen while he sleeps tonight.
After he leaves, my wife and I lay down on the bed with the dogs and try to find something stupid on TV. She needs to laugh and we both need to let our minds zone out. Besides, not much else we can do with the gag order Ron slapped on me. After finishing some burgers from room service, we find some ridiculous movie about highway patrolmen. We stare blankly at the screen, so much weighing heavily on or minds, but after a while, Mayzie lets a giggle escape. Soon after, I let out a chuckle. Little by little, the tension eases from us with a laugh here, and a head shake there. I put an arm behind my head and start to relax, lacing the fingers of my other hand with hers.
Eventually, Maze dozes off and I follow pretty quickly behind her, our hands still entwined, our spirits and unity intact.
MAYZIE
Deep in another realm, past many layers of fog, I see a montage of images. Jack and the rest of the guys passing a document around a dark wood table as each of them take turns signing it. The looks on each of their faces is defeated and crestfallen. Eli sits at the head of the table, reclined back with his feet up, one arm around Cyndi the flight attendant, who stands beside him with her hand resting on his shoulder while she twirls her hair with the other. Eli chuckles, and jabs, “thanks for emptying your wallets, boys. I appreciate it. Although it was the least you could do…” I feel a blackness start to creep over my heart as the edges of the scene begin to blur and shift. It fades away and another blurry image comes into focus; a ‘For Sale’ sign being pounded into a yard; our yard. “It’s okay, baby,” I hear Jack’s voice and feel his arms come around me from behind. “It’s all worth it to keep you from having to face him, even if it is just one time. I’ll hand it all over just so that you don’t have to be scared; so that you don’t have to be brave, even one time.”
I jerk awake, with a cold ache in my chest and air being sucked into my lungs in a gasp. I hold my breath as I familiarize myself with actual reality. It’s dark, I’m warm, I’m still pressed against Jack, who’s breathing is coming in slow and deep, unlike mine once I manage to resume it. I’m awake. I’m here. It was a dream, I mentally sooth myself. I fix my eyes on Jack’s form, barely visible in the darkness, and calm slowly starts to take the place of fear. Even in sleep, he seems to be my lighthouse, guiding me out of the storm and back into the safe harbor, and eventually, my eyes allow themselves to close again.
18
Mayzie
Jack’s voice recovered enough to sing the show the following night, though he was still careful to rest his vocals between the next couple of appearances as we made our way up the coast to D.C., over to Pittsburgh and then back over to Philadelphia, our last stop before a four day break for Thanksgiving.
We let ourselves into Sarah and Mike’s home early afternoon on Turkey Day, and are greeted by some amazing smells. Since we literally got off of a charter jet an hour ago, we didn’t bring jack shit other than a bottle of wine. We didn’t dress up either. Jack’s in cargos with a thermal shirt that hugs his chest and shoulders nicely, and I didn’t have it in me to wear anything nicer than leggings and a comfy sweater. I’m going to totally hear it from my mother, but oh well. At least my hair is brushed. Chatter can be heard from both the main living room and the kitchen beyond.
We make our first stop in the living room where we find Mike, Jack’s dad Bill, my dad, and my brother lounging on the plushy furniture, hollering at the game. Our home team always plays Thanksgiving so they are especially invested. Ian is the first to notice us and a smirk appears on his face.
“Well, look who’s come to slum it with us nobodies!”
“Shut up Ian,” I roll my eyes at my brother. The other three heads swivel in the direction of Jack and me, and they all get to their feet to greet us. After I get the life squeezed out of me by some manly bear-hugs, including one from my brother, I head in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Jack to bullshit with the men.
I find Sarah and my mother bustling around the spacious kitchen. It’s been almost seven weeks since I left for the tour, and Sarah is looking quite round now. Poor thing, hosting Thanksgiving while carrying twins. My mom isn’t batting an eye while she scurries around, totally in her element.
“Hellooo...” I call, to get their attention. They both pause and look up at the same time, excited smiles on their faces.
My mom prances over first, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ooh, my baby girl!” she exclaims hugging me tightly, and I hug back. After a moment she leans back to look me up and down. “It’s a family holiday, would some nice slacks have killed you?"
"Yes." I return a little petulantly. "You try staying up past midnight and hopping a plane at the ass crack to get here before turkey carving.”
“Grumpy, aren’t we?” Mom muses as she releases me and goes back to mashing potatoes.
“Yeah Mayzie, that’s my job right now,” says Sarah, looking extremely uncomfortable with her current shape but so incredibly cute at the same time, in black skinn
y jeans and a fitted red top that shows off her bump. She sets down a pumpkin pie to cool and comes over to me, pulling her mitts off. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly in my ear as she greets me with a hug.
“Fine,” I answer just as softly.
“Talk later,” she murmurs before releasing me.
No way in hell does anyone besides Mike and Sarah know about Eli, otherwise today would be chaos. Speaking of Superdouche, fortunately, we haven’t heard from him since his creepy phone call. While it’s nice not having to deal with it, we know he’s just biding his time while he presumes I’m thinking things over. We’re no closer to a decision than we were on that day, pretty much because there is no good one. Deciding today should not only be a mini vacay from the tour, but also from that tool box, I decide to distract myself with some busy work. While cooking isn’t really my thing, I throw on an apron and offer to help, seeing as how Sarah and Mom appear to be doing everything on their own. At the very least, I can pretend to stir gravy.
We make mindless small talk for about ten minutes or so before Jack walks in, heading towards his sister.
“About time you came in to say ‘hi’ to me, dumbass!” She greets Jack with open arms and they give each other a hug before pulling away and she gives his hair a quick mussing. “You look exhausted,” she observes, shaking her head.
“Yeah well, it’s been a hell of a tour so far,” he counters, casting his eyes at me so we can share a knowing look. Sarah quietly nods as Jack looks down at her growing belly. “You look…”
“Choose your next words carefully!” She warns, holding her finger up at him.
“What? You look great,” he placates with a sincerely warm smile that melts her protective walls. Pacified, she turns to check on the turkey while Jack makes his way over to my mom.
“Hey Ma,” he greets her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek that she gleefully returns. After fussing over him for a minute, she excuses herself to go check on the game.
Still Her (Turn it Up Book 2) Page 14