by Rebel Farris
I stopped watching him then, turned my attention to the crowd and played for them, letting my hands slide over the guitar seductively. How had I let myself become so powerless? We were tearing each other down. I watched as the audience became enthralled, watching me intently, hypnotized by my music, my voice. This is me, this is my strength. I’m a siren. I’d been hiding it out of fear. No more. We would be who we were meant to be, and if it didn’t work out, then it didn’t work.
The song ended, and people cheered. I made my way back to the table, getting stopped every few feet by someone who wanted to ask about where the song came from or if they could buy the CD. I didn’t know the answer to that. Spencer had controlled most of the group business, and even though we never recorded in a studio, he had made a demo from one of our garage practices and sold copies at gigs. Whether or not they were still out there was beyond me.
When I got back to the table, Blondie was nowhere to be found. Instead, Jared had tossed aside the pretense of a glass and was drinking straight from the bottle. I could see the unfocused quality to his eyes as he pinned me on the spot with narrowed eyes.
“Thanks for rent,” Holly said, glancing up from her phone. “I’ve already gotten over ten thousand hits on this video.”
“You posted that?”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “I’m sure someone else is gonna, too. That was some real shit. Just figured you’d be happier knowing that a friend was receiving the payoff rather than some tool.”
“True.”
“I think whores usually like to get paid themselves,” Jared muttered before taking another swig.
I’d like to say I was shocked, but by now I was becoming used to his violent mood swings and sudden shifts in temper. I should’ve known that this night would end this way. We hadn’t had a nice night out since before he was deployed. Plus, I couldn’t fully blame him because I chose to poke the bear.
“We should probably get back to the hotel. Asher, would you give me a hand?” I gave Asher a pointed look and jerked my head in Jared’s direction. Hopefully, he would get that I needed to get the drunk out of the bar without making a scene that would end up on tabloid websites. I’d no desire to listen to Press-zilla bitch at me.
I pulled out my phone, searching for a local cab company number. Asher offered a hand to Jared, and when he didn’t take it, Asher moved to pull him up by his arm. As soon as he made contact, Jared kicked out, scooting his chair across the floor. The result was a loud grating sound and a lot of angry looks since the next act was already playing onstage. I gripped the phone tight in my hand and grabbed Jared’s other arm to drag him outside. As we were walking toward the front door, I went back to my task on the phone, only an active call was already in progress. Shit. I must have accidentally dialed it.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hello? Is this the cab company?” I asked, not knowing which one I’d accidentally dialed.
There was a click, and a male voice came through the line. “Yes, did you need a ride?”
“Yeah. We’re at the Old Point Bar on the corner of…” I drifted off to search for street signs. “Patterson and Olivier.”
“We have someone nearby. They’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Awesome, thanks.” I hung up.
I turned back to find that Asher had Jared propped up against the wall by the door. Holly was still inside, and they seemed to be having a heated exchange. I hung back, reluctant to wade into the fray of Jared’s bad mood. My back was to the street when a car pulled up behind me. I turned to find a black sedan. The window rolled down.
“You order a cab?” the voice from inside asked.
My brows scrunched in confusion. Shouldn’t a cab look like a cab? Maybe I’d called some uber-fancy discreet cab company. I shook it off, waving Asher and Jared over with a shout. The way Jared yanked his arm away from Asher and swayed on his feet told me this was gonna be a fun ride. Holly came out just in time to say good night. I made plans to meet her for breakfast at our hotel before she drove back to Austin and we moved on to Chicago.
After I assured Asher that I’d be fine getting us back to the hotel, I climbed into the back seat and told the driver the name of our hotel. He set off, and I watched Holly and Asher go back inside the bar.
“You know, I’m a big boy. I can get myself home,” Jared said, breaking the silence.
I turned away from the window. “You’re drunk, Jared.” I sighed. “And I don’t want to fight with you tonight.”
“I’m good, Mads. My fiancée just got up on a stage and announced that she’s a kinky freak, attracting a bunch of dudes to come hit on her. I’m peachy.”
“Nobody hit on me. What the hell are you talking about?”
He snorted in response but stayed quiet. I scoffed.
“Those people were just asking about where they could find the song. And you’re one to talk, having some bimbo hanging on you while I’m up on the stage.”
“She was not some bimbo. She was a soldier, stationed over in Iraq when I was there.”
“In other words, someone you fucked back when we weren’t together?”
He didn’t respond, and I knew I was right. Fucking hypocrite. I was done with this conversation. I was tired of him making me feel like I needed to walk on eggshells and pretend to be someone I’m not.
“At least it was normal sex, with a normal girl.”
Anger and hurt warred with each other inside me. I knew that I wasn’t normal, but I always thought that he loved me despite it. Now it felt like he despised me because of it. And it hurt because it was true. What Law turned me into wasn’t normal, but it was me. My gut wrenched. How did I get so fucked up?
The cab pulled up to the hotel, and Jared got out. I pulled a fifty out of my wallet and handed it to the driver and scooted out myself. I was about to take a step toward the hotel when I heard a voice. I spun back, and the cabbie had his window down.
“Your change.” He waved money in the air.
I approached the window and waved it off. “You can keep the change.”
I leaned down, and for the first time, really looked at the driver. He was wearing a green hoodie with the hood pulled up, his face lost in shadow.
“You know,” he said, “tryin’ to force things to live when they should be left to die never works.”
His voice seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to think of a response, but as his window rolled back up and he put the car in gear, my focus dropped to the passenger seat.
There was a single red calla lily sitting there. I gasped, and my voice caught in my throat with an intensity that stole my breath, choking me. The ground rocked beneath me.
He pulled away from the curb, and I chased after him, banging on the window. I had to know who it was. He didn’t stop or look at me, and soon, I couldn’t keep up with the car. I stood in the street, watching as he took a right a block later.
It only hit me after he had vanished that I should’ve gotten the license plate number, but it was too late.
Now
Nic struts inside, no hesitation. Dex’s eyes track him, but he doesn’t say a thing. He hasn’t said much in the last two days, and that bothers me. I can’t figure him out. He’s very good at keeping his emotions in check, keeping that carefully constructed, neutral facade. It both worries and excites me.
Nic’s arm hooks my waist and pulls me to him, away from Dex. I’m so focused on Dex that I don’t give it much thought until I see his eyes narrow and the lines of his body tense.
“You left too soon,” Nic says, squeezing me as he kisses the side of my head. “We were just fixin’ to get our girl off.”
“Lucky,” I sigh, exasperated. “Cut it out.” I push his hands off me and step away.
“I don’t share,” Dex growls.
The deep, possessive tone travels down my spine. Goose bumps prickle my skin as my thighs tense. I like that. I like
that a lot. A smile tips the corner of my mouth as I peek up at him through my lashes.
“Say it again,” I say, but it comes out all breathy.
Dex’s eyes snap to me. His features don’t soften but take on a carnal quality. I feel it. That magnetic pull. Like a cord, he’s tugging with the dilation of his eyes. I want him to own me. He has no idea.
“I. Don’t. Share.”
My feet are moving before my brain registers it, but my progress is halted by a hand on my arm. I follow the hand with my eyes, up an arm to meet Lucky’s eyes. He looks worried.
“Slow your roll, lovebirds,” Nic says, his eyes on Dex. “You need to know what you’re up against.”
“Lucky—”
“No,” Nic says firmly. “You two need to talk.”
Dex is watching the exchange, his eyes tracking every movement. The tense lines in his stance and his clenched fists are the only things giving away the fact that he’s holding himself back. And I think that is the sexiest thing about him. The amount of self-control he displays on a daily basis is mind-blowing. It’s a rare talent.
“He’s right. Submission isn’t my only kink. And you need to know all of it. You don’t have to like it or participate, but you do have to accept it—accept me.”
“Yeah, your girl here is a bit of an exhibitionist, with some voyeuristic tendencies, too.”
I cut a scathing look to Nic. “What he means is that I like to watch people—fuck, foreplay, it really doesn’t matter. It turns me on. But I also like to be watched. And out there, what you were doing… it was amplified by the fact that we had an audience.”
“And I helped her out with a little show,” Nic adds. “I know I’ve a habit of crossing boundaries, being inappropriate, but you should know I love this girl. Just… not in a romantic way. When she was born, our parents sat us down, Evan and me, and let us hold her. They told us she was ours to protect. She was our little sister in all but blood. And I’ll continue to protect her to the day I die.”
Nic’s look holds so many layers of meaning as he holds Dex’s attention. Nic finally breaks away, turning and walking to the dresser. Dex’s shoulders relax. It’s a subtle change. I don’t think anyone would notice unless they were studying him as thoroughly as me. Nic opens the top drawer, and I know what he’s doing. I turn away to stop myself from stopping him.
“You want to know what I do for her. What we do here. It’s this.”
I hear the thunk, and I can’t help it when my eyes are drawn by the sound. I glimpse the whip and cuffs on the floor before I turn away, numbing tingles sweeping my body. I look at Dex, but his eyes are focused on Nic.
“Maddie’s not like other women. She was a normal child, but… something happened. She stopped processing physical pain the way a normal person does. No one knows why. But if you can imagine not ever feeling pain, you’ll understand why sometimes she feels the need to chase it. Like she’s hoping one day she’ll feel it, if she tries hard enough or often enough.”
“Nic, please…” I whisper as tears well in my eyes. I don’t know whether that’s a plea to stop or to keep talking. It feels like being flayed open and laid bare. Nic and Evan are the only ones who know this about me, aside from our parents. It’s not a genetic disorder, but it’s an extremely rare psychological condition related to trauma. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what caused it. I don’t even like to think about it, much less tell anyone. So, in the back of my mind, I’m sort of thankful that he’s doing the talking for me. I don’t know if I ever could bring myself to do it.
“I think she processes emotional pain more strongly because of it,” Nic continues. “When her emotions run too high, she seeks out ways to try and inflict pain on herself. She also happens to be attracted to a certain type who has a tendency toward—” Nic pauses like he’s thinking of a way to say it kindly. “—rougher handling.”
I can’t bring myself to look at Dex. I don’t want to know what he thinks of me. My whole body is clenched. I’m terrified because I know this is it. The moment he runs. Who would want something so damaged? Who would want a fucked-up deviant monster like me?
“After… after Jared…” I take a deep breath and try and steel myself to tell him the worst part. “I wasn’t dealing with it real well, and Evan found me… I was…” I look away, blinking furiously to stop the tears. “I was cutting myself. They took everything sharp out of the house until I agreed to therapy. I just wanted to feel something. I needed to feel something.”
Tears burn cooling tracks on my heated skin. I take my wrist wraps off to give myself an excuse not to look at Dex. I can see from my periphery that he’s not moving. It hurts as much as it relieves. And it really hits me that I want him to know. I want Dex to know me. My feelings for him are much stronger than I’m willing to admit to myself.
“I spent six months in a treatment program. And for the most part, I’m better now. I’ve tools to help with it, like the rubber bands…” I can’t bring myself to finish. Thankfully, I don’t have to because Nic is here for me.
“This is one of her coping mechanisms for that,” Nic adds, motioning to the whip and cuffs on the floor, “so she doesn’t injure herself chasing what she can’t have. That, and the fighting, both of which I monitor closely to ensure she doesn’t get seriously injured. We have on-site medical staff, just in case. But you need to know, even if it looks sexual, it’s not, for her. At least not with me. We joke, but we’ve never been like that. She’s not that way in that ring either. At least, not until tonight.”
Silence settles between us, broken only by my sniffles as I wipe away the last of my tears. My heart feels like it will beat through my chest with my ever-increasing nerves. No one speaks, no one moves. But it doesn’t feel awkward—it’s just heavy. The arduous thud of my racing heart seems to echo around me. Dense with the weight of anticipation. All my fear and worry bubble to the surface, masking that small thread of hope holding me together.
Nic breaks the silence with a sigh and picks up the stuff from the ground, returning it to the dresser. He stops in front of me on his way out. His lips press into my forehead as he tugs me toward him.
“It’ll be okay. No matter what,” Nic mutters, and with another sigh, leaves us alone.
Silence reigns again after the click of the door closing. I wish to God that Dex would speak. Move. Something. Anything. This is it. This is the pivot line. He either accepts me or he walks away. The tension is burning a hole right through me until I finally break, my eyes seeking his.
Then
I felt electric, alive, as we played our fourth concert of the tour. We were in Chicago. There was a sea of people at the end of the stage. Literally, thousands had come to hear us play; a fact that seemed surreal, despite seeing the number of people before me beyond the stage lights.
The other reason it was so thrilling was that Jared seemed like himself again when he was onstage. I would’ve liked to say we recovered. That he finally had that moment of clarity and talked to me about what was going on with him, but that didn’t happen. He had dropped the sex hang-up and his fascination with Law, but that didn’t mean that he was happy.
Something had happened to him on this last deployment. Anytime I tried to talk with him, he shut me down and left the room. Each day was some new adventure in what he would get pissed about. And then there was the drinking. I’m not sure if he knew we had found his stash of empty and half-full bottles of alcohol on the bus. He was discreet enough about it that it went unnoticed, for a while.
Without Asher, I’m not sure I would’ve made it this far. He had become my rock in a sea of grief, mourning what I’d lost. He stepped up with the girls when Jared would push them away, playing with them and distracting them from their disappointment, though their tutor and nanny, Kim, kept them busy enough that they weren’t too aware of it. Kim was a godsend, in her late thirties, with an Ivy League Ph.D. in child psychology and education; she was the best money could buy. I st
ill missed my friends, I missed derby, and I missed home, more and more with every mile that took us farther away.
When we were onstage, though, it was just us and the music. The old light returned to his eyes, and I had him back, if only for fleeting moments.
The song we were playing, our last of the set for the evening, was coming to a close. Dread filled me as I wondered what new adventure of shit we were going to embark on this time.
“Thank you, Chicago!” I yelled into the mic as the last strains of the guitar faded out.
The fans cheered and screamed, and my heart filled to bursting. There was nothing quite like that overwhelming feeling of acceptance that came with this type of popularity. It was easy not to let it go to my head. The second we stepped off the stage I’d be greeted with the reality of my life, so I let myself enjoy the moment while it lasted.
Nate was waiting for us backstage. He stepped up and became our manager for this tour. Before we made it all the way offstage, the crowd began to chant, “Encore, encore…” We’d never done an encore because we played every song we ever wrote for them at every concert. Though, that’s not entirely true. An idea popped into my head at that moment.
“Hey, get someone to bring me a stool and my acoustic,” I said to Nate. I fixed my gaze on Jared, searching his eyes with pleading hope. “Stick around for this, will ya?”
A little line formed between Jared’s brows as they pulled together, but he dipped his head in agreement.
I chugged the bottle of water I was handed and used the towel to wipe my face off, then turned back to the stage.
As soon as I was visible again, the crowd lost it. I smiled and walked up to the microphone.
“You’re in luck, Chicago.” The crowd went wild, and I laughed, waiting for them to quiet again. “We’ve never played an encore before, but I’ve something I’d like to share with you. I’ve never played this before, for anyone.” I glanced over to make sure Jared was still there. “We’ll see how it goes. This is something I wrote by myself. I usually don’t write by myself, so this is a lot of firsts for me. And it’s all for you, Chicago.”