Ian Summers
I sigh and rub my face. I think he handled it beautifully, and hopefully fans and others will respect their wishes.
***
I’m halfway through another bottle of vodka as I watch Kip trying to make some girl smile. We ended up at a bar in downtown Macon. Kip found out some girls from high school would be here, and he drug me along so I didn’t drown my woes in a bottle alone. No, apparently it is healthier for me to drown those mother fuckers in front of total strangers. I should’ve never watched the damn video.
The way her body moved for him is the same way her body moves for me. The way he looked at her and seemed to be on a mission to prove what he felt inside by being inside of her is the same thing I do. He touches her with such reverence, that even I, in some fucked up way was touched by it. Ian didn’t fuck her in that video, he loved her. How did we get here? How did I fuck this up so badly? God damn Claudia Windsor and her evil snatch. She fucked it all up. My withholding information hurt her, but she lied. She had to know I would find out at some point that the child was not mine. I love children, but another man’s child would not come between Hen and I.
FUCK!
“You okay, Jag?” a woman asks full of concern for me.
“I’ll live.”
I slide off my barstool and find the pisser. When I return, a beautiful Hispanic chic is standing beside my stool ordering a drink. Any other night, I’d try to talk her into going home with me, but I don’t think I could get my dick up after the amount of vodka I’ve drunk today.
She makes eye contact and smiles a gorgeous toothy smile at me. “Rough Day?”
“You could say that.”
“I’m sorry,” she sincerely apologizes.
“Shit happens.”
She extends her small, delicate hand, and I envelope her softness with my large, calloused hand, “Rosario.”
“Jagger.”
“You play in Broken Access.”
“Guitar.”
“I’m a fan of your music… great band,” she smiles.
“Thank you.”
“I guess I should just be frank, I’m assuming you’re here because of a certain tape making its way around the world as we speak?”
I sigh and take another chug off my glass. “It was great wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t watch it,” she says.
“That makes one of us,” I scoff.
“Do you enjoy torture?” she asks.
“It appears so.”
She laughs, and I’m a little infatuated with the sound that comes out of her. I smile at her, the first real genuine smile I’ve had all day.
“So what do you do, Rosario?” I ask.
“I do hair, makeup, the whole shebang,” she offers.
“You make other people beautiful?”
“I guess you could say that, but let’s be honest, there just isn’t hope for some people,” she laughs.
“You’re right,” I cock an eyebrow and slightly grin at her brutal honesty. “And some people need no help at all.” I incline my head towards her before I take another drink.
“For a man drowning his woes, you sure are full of compliments,” she challenges.
“I know beauty when I see it.”
“That would make two of us,” she says.
In this moment, I realize I want to take her home, but it would be unfair of me to do that until I take care of something else first. I want to feel her beautiful brown skin beneath me and push my hands through her straight black hair. When she looks up towards the bartender to order another beer, I take a moment to check out her curves. Damn I love Latina women. Curvy, mouthy, and strong as hell. Those are some of the sexiest attributes a woman can have.
“Rosario, I’d love to hang out more sometime, but I have to take care of something before the night is over. If you give me your number, I’ll call you later,” I say hoping she will take pity on my pathetic soul and give me what I want.
She smiles, and finally after what seems like an eternity, gives me her number. I hope it’s not a fake because I’d like to talk to her more. She leans up to kiss me on the cheek, and I smell a hint of something rose-like and feminine. My dick twitches in response.
“Did you give me your real number?” I ask.
She smiles, “I guess you’ll have to call it to find out.”
I smile back, feeling a little lighter than I was when I walked in this dive. She winks and walks away. Her ass sways back and forth and I have to talk myself into not following her and grabbing her ass just to see what it feels like in my hand.
I clap Kip on the back and announce my departure.
“Dude, you can’t fucking drive,” he says.
“I’ll call a cab.”
“Where the fuck you going at this time of night?” he asks.
“I gotta talk to her,” I say and just the thought of Hen makes my hair splinter again.
“Tonight?” his female companion asks.
“Tonight. I gotta get this off my chest now.”
“Come on, I’ll give you both a ride. You’ve had too much to drink Kip,” she announces.
Kip who looks a little stunned that she’s offered.
I sit in a strange girl’s backseat and think of all the things I want to say to Hen. I haven’t gotten one damn line together in my head when the twenty-minute ride is over and the Honda glides down the love of my life’s driveway. The girl I need to let go.
When the car is put in park, I take a deep breath and open the door.
“I’ll just walk home,” I say not wanting to fuck up their night.
“Not happening,” Kip says. “We’ll stay in the car so we don’t interrupt.”
I nod and walk the paved path to her front door. I hesitate when I raise my hand to knock. Maybe this should wait until I know exactly what I want to say. I lower my hand and take a step back from the door. I could plan this conversation out in my head a million times over and it will never go the way I plan. I step towards the door again and knock.
I hear steps pick up as they make their way to the door, and then I hear a male voice. Fuck, what if Ian is here.
“It’s Jagger,” I hear him say.
“I’ve got it,” Henley announces.
“I’ll be in the back,” he says.
I see her silhouette through the glass in the door, but the door doesn’t open. Don’t be a chicken shit now, Hen.
The door finally opens, and she purses her lips together while placing her arms around her stomach.
“Hey,” she says quietly.
“Is he here?” I ask with fury, clenching my fists down by my side.
“No, it was Cory and Memphis who walked to the back,” she says while looking at the floor.
“Can I come in?” I ask trying to keep my shit together.
“Yeah.”
I step inside the door, and Henley closes it. I glance around and see so many memories of us. She has pictures from the past few months hanging on her wall. Pictures of us on the beach in Los Angeles, some from our private moments when it was just us basking in each other. Why would she have these? I hone in on a particular picture that sits in a large frame by her television. It’s an extremely close shot of our faces pressed together. It was taken only a few days before the Claudia shit blew up in my face. Her face is turned toward me and her lips puckered as she plants a kiss on my cheek. Her eyes are closed, but you can tell she’s smiling because the dimple in her cheek is prevalent. I look like a man in love, my head turned slightly towards her and the smile on my face tells the world everything they need to know about how I feel about the woman next to me.
I pick the picture up and rub my thumb over her beautiful face and love quickly turns into rage. He probably has these same damn pictures of him and her somewhere. I bet his phone is full of them. When he feels lonely he pulls them out and looks at her smiling face. I throw the frame and the memory with it ac
ross the room and the glass that protected that memory shatters.
“Jagger!” she yells.
“How could you have that picture in here? How could you have any of these in here?” I choke out.
“What the fuck?” Memphis rounds the corner.
“It’s fine Memphis,” Henley reassures him.
He looks me over not missing the fury pouring out of me. “I get that you’re hurting man, but don’t hurt her. Please don’t hurt her.”
“I would never intentionally hurt her,” I answer looking down at my shoes so he can’t see the tears that threaten to spill over.
I hear his boots retreat and finally peer at her from across the room. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her face is bare, with no makeup to mask her natural perfection. Her hair is on top of her head and she’s sporting a hoodie and yoga pants. She looks so fucking gorgeous it hurts. It hurts to look at her and know Ian touched every inch of her.
“I’m sorry, Jag,” she whispers.
“Are you?”
“I’m sorry you saw it,” she says.
“Is that what you’re sorry for?” I spit out at her.
“Yes.”
“You’re not sorry for fucking him?”
She sighs, “No.”
“I thought we were working on shit, Hen. You said you weren’t ready, and you had to get you better before you could have a relationship. You said you loved me and always will. It’s always been a bunch of bullshit!” I scream.
“No. Nothing I’ve ever said to you was bullshit.”
We stare each other down and I see her anger building. Sometimes an angry Henley is good. She tells you everything she’s ever thought and doesn’t spare your feelings, but at least you get the unadulterated truth from her.
“Get mad,” I smile wickedly at her.
“Fuck you!” she seethes through gritted teeth.
“I wish we could… one last fuck off from you; however, the only thing I will be able to think about is his cock in your cunt the entire time I’m in it. I’m not a sloppy second’s kind of guy.”
“That’s all you got, Jagger? Come on, tell me how you really feel you fucking hypocrite!” she screams and takes a few steps towards me.
“Let it all out, baby. Tell me about it!”
“Get out of my house!” she screams.
“We’re not done here,” I smile.
“You think you get to bring your drunk ass in here and pretend to be heartbroken because I fucked Ian? You don’t. You don’t get to insult me. We. Are. Not. Together. I have made that abundantly clear. You do not get to walk into my home with your heart in your hand because some douche bag filmed me in my bedroom. You would’ve never known, and quite frankly filmed or not it is none of your fucking business. You did everything with your model toy except a fucking flick! You paraded her skinny ass around town making damn sure every papz within a square mile saw you feeling her ass up in public! You brought her to our best friend’s wedding as your date and gave me no warning. You tried to fuck me in a bathroom while she was less than five hundred feet from us. You do not get to walk in here and judge me and act all heartbroken. At least I had the fucking decency to tell you where I was at in my head and what I needed!”
“Were you jealous, love?” I seethe.
“Fuck you!”
“Need I remind you again why that isn’t going to happen?” I ask her.
She rolls her eyes, and I watch as she attempts to compose herself. She could kill my ass right now, no doubt.
“Yeah, I was. I was also heartbroken because you didn’t have enough respect to pick up the damn phone and tell me that baby wasn’t yours. You shut me out when you promised you wouldn’t. I had to watch it all on TV like some stalker. I had to watch you with her every time I turned on a computer or TV. I couldn’t go to the grocery store without seeing your hands all over her.” Her voice quivers as she tries to stop her tears, but she does so in vain.
When the tears finally spill over, she abruptly wipes her face, angry I’m seeing her cry. She breathes through the pain and finally looks at me.
“Well you got back at me. You get the last word,” I huff out.
“Unlike you, I didn’t publicize what happened between Ian and me. I didn’t parade him around in front of you, and speak to you like you were worthless, Jagger. No matter how much you’ve hurt me, I have more respect for you than that. The video wasn’t filmed by either of us. This situation is completely out of my control, and I’m sorry it hurt you. Jesus, you’re one of the first things I thought of. I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want this to hurt you, and it wasn’t done on my part. I didn’t hurt you. While you didn’t like what you saw, it’s not my fault you saw it. That’s more than I can say for you,” she says and walks away from me.
“At least I’m not going to be labeled as a whore for the rest of my life. You’ll be the laughingstock of the world now, baby. I hope that dick was worth it.”
“You know what? That’s it. I’ve forgiven you time and again, and all I get from you is more fucking hurt. I’m done. Leave me the fuck alone. If you see me, turn the other way. If you speak to me I won’t speak back so don’t even waste your precious breath. I’m so fucking done with this shit. I regret ever being with you, because the only thing I feel when I think of you is fucking pity, and bitter loathing. You’re an asshole.”
I get nose to nose with her. “I’m a fucking asshole? Have you seen that video? You’ve been in love with another man the entire time you were with me! I guess I’ll see your asshole and raise a fucking cunt!”
“You’re such a child,” she says and pushes me before she stomps out of the room.
When she’s gone from my sight, I take a seat on a nearby chair, and try to think through the liquor clouding my brain. She’s right on some level, and the rational part of me acknowledges that. The irrational part of me, the part of me that’s in love with her, can’t quite wrap my head around any of it. I know neither of them filmed it. They sure as hell didn’t know it was going to be broadcast to the entire universe. They were wronged, but I can’t see much further than that. My heart stops at the way he looked at her… the way a man looks at a woman when he loves her.
I stand and walk through her kitchen in search of her. I see her through French doors that lead to her back patio. She’s smoking a cigarette and chipping the paint off her nails, lost so deeply in her own thoughts. I’m not sure how long I stand here and watch her, but when I see her wipe more tears away from her face I have to swallow my own. I’m a lot of things, but completely heartless isn’t one of them. Those tears are for what’s been done to her, and the fear she has for who is doing them. They are for her friend Ian who is caught in this scandal with her, and for me who has been hurt by it as well. Her tears aren’t selfish, they are for all three of us. How did we get here, lost in some stupid ass love triangle? This isn’t any of us, and we can let it tear us down until we’re reduced to mere shells of the people we used to be, or we can figure it the fuck out. The only problem with figuring it out is, two’s a party and three’s a crowd. She’s the one who has to decide, and she can’t do that with both of us pining after her. I won’t pull her heart anymore.
I step through the patio door and kneel in front of her. Tears cascade down her face, and she looks down to keep me from seeing her. I wipe them away and push hair from her face. She lets out a sob, hand to her mouth to muffle it, and her head turns away from me. I slide my hand up her cheek and pull her beautiful grey eyes back to me.
“I didn’t do it to hurt you. It wasn’t planned, it just happened. That doesn’t make it all better, but it’s the truth.” She says.
My vision is flooded with images of her and Ian together all of a sudden, and rage takes hold. I try to breathe through it. I close my eyes and try to clear the red hot fire that threatens to explode from me.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she reiterates.
Her voice tips the bal
ance of the scales somewhere inside of me.
“But you did. It ripped my fucking heart out,” I seethe.
I open my eyes to see her eyeing me warily, afraid of what my temper will produce.
“Maybe we should continue this another time,” she says.
She’s such a fucking coward. When confrontation and truth roars its ugly head, Henley tucks her tail between her legs and runs to find the nearest rock to hide under.
I stand and look down at her, “That won’t be necessary.”
“Jagger we can’t leave shit like this. We have to be able to be around each other.”
“Unfortunately. You disgust me. Caleb’s mom was right that night. It should’ve been you who died,” I blurt out.
She lunges from her chair and slaps me across the face. Damn that hurt.
“Fuck you,” she spits out.
“At least I could’ve mourned a woman who was great and full of life. I could’ve mourned the you I once loved, instead I’m left with a junkie whore to grieve for.”
“That’s enough!” Memphis’s voice booms from behind her.
“This doesn’t concern you, bruh,” I say without taking my eyes off her face.
“Oh it fucking does. When you say shit like that to another human being in my presence, especially when it’s my sister, it more than fucking concerns me, bruh,” he retorts.
Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 64