Headlights flash as a car turns into the alley, and I tear my gaze away from her. The car is a Ford. Tan, and not too shiny. Nondescript enough that it could be nobody, or it could be an undercover cop. Much smarter than the limo I was expecting.
“Dean’s here.” I shrug into Danny’s hoodie and start walking back toward the mouth of the alley. Hip hop music and a new chorus of sirens threaten from beyond, and my eyes don’t rise higher than her stained shoes.
“Jax, hey!”
“I’ll see you at the show tonight, okay?” I turn before she can respond, and break into a jog as I round the corner, my shoes slapping the sidewalk in a rhythm that starts one-two and speeds to one-two, onetwo, onetwo, oneoneoneoneoneone.
Her kiss was as consuming as an orgasm, but warmer. Safer. For those few seconds, I existed in a world of glass, clear and perfect. Before I had a chance to break anything.
I know better than to trust myself with anything that feels that good.
Chapter 12: Into The Dark
Sweat weights the air of the tour bus. We hit the road right after the show and we won’t get showers until we make it to the hotel, but I don’t mind. It’s not like I could describe what Jera smelled like, or Danny, or even myself actually, but I can tell our bus apart from any others with my eyes closed. It’s the way, on tour, when I would first realize I was waking up somewhere I shouldn’t be. The spins usually showed up second, with the nausea and the headache. But before that was always the first inhale of “Oh shit, our bus left without me.”
My bunk curtain sways as the bus hits a rough patch of road and my knuckles press even harder into my teeth, the dire taste of blood an exact match for my mood. I’ve been researching on my phone for hours behind the cover of this curtain. Testicular cancer is pretty treatable if you catch it early and it’s only in one testicle. But in both, if you’re not willing to give them up, there’s only one outcome.
I need to sleep, since I’ve barely snatched an hour in two days. Normally the vibration of tires on the road is enough to do me in. It reminds me of our chauffeur driving us home when I was a kid. Mom didn’t like me to talk in the car, but it was enough to have her to myself for those few moments at the end of the day. I hated the perfume she always wore—it was called Poison and it came in an ominously black bottle—but I loved to be close enough to smell it. I’d always fall asleep before we got home, even if it was only a few blocks.
Yesterday, Ava wasn’t wearing any perfume. She smelled clean and open, with a little tinge of the detergent the homeless shelter used. Every time I think about that moment, I change my mind about if running was the right call or not. She didn’t deserve that blow off, but I didn’t deserve the refuge her kiss gave me. Even if I didn’t care about her, I wouldn’t try to drag her into the mess that is my life. After rehab, I just started fitting the pieces back together into something coherent, and now...
It’s not the moment of the funeral that’s bugging me. Jera will be inconsolable, but we’ll get her through it and get her home again. But afterward... Without Danny, nothing will be right. Jera will start pulling away from me, losing herself in Maya and Jacob and the baby she’s always wanted. All the things that don’t remind her of Danny. The record label will give us some time to sort shit out, and the deadline will come and go. Our band’s homepage will get less and less interest until finally, it sits vacant like an old lawn chair.
Jera adores me, but I’m an afterthought to her in a life already crammed full of other people. Danny was the only one who kind of focused when I came around. He knew my shit, but he didn’t hate me for it the way I hated myself.
If Danny weren’t around anymore, I’d shuttle back and forth between meetings and my gym and...where? Dammit, I had a life, didn’t I? For eighteen years before I met them, I had...something. I can’t even remember what now. If the rehearsals and tours dried up, I wouldn’t really have anyplace to be.
I also wouldn’t have to be clean anymore.
The longing for that free pass spikes sharp and dry in the base of my throat. I can feel good again. If I don’t have a tour bus to miss, it won’t matter if I don’t come home. If I disappear then, no one will come after me.
And Kate...Jesus, Kate.
No matter how hard I shove my fist against my mouth, my whole body shakes. Without Danny, what will happen to her? What the hell will happen to me? My throat aches around a knot too big to swallow down, and my nose finally clogs. I can’t fucking breathe.
I climb out of my top bunk as quietly as I can manage and fumble past the bathroom door, ripping off a wad of toilet paper and blowing my nose. Quick and sharp, like I’ve got allergies, no big deal. I have to do it twice, but then I splash water over my face and clear my throat.
I prop my hands on the sink. We’ll only be on the bus for another couple of hours, hitting the hotel just before dawn. If I can make it through another few hours after that, there’ll be appointments and events, fans and soundcheck. Ava.
Somehow, I’ll smooth over the kiss. I’m a better friend than a boyfriend any day, and I remember the way she smiled when I quoted Dr. Seuss. There’s something about the way she jokes with me that makes me think she could be a real, no-bullshit friend the way Jera is. Not like the other girls I know, who look away any time the shiny rock star façade starts to slip.
I need her, need any distraction to pull me away from the apocalyptic darkness of my gut because I can’t fucking stand this. I could live in meetings for the rest of my life and it wouldn’t be enough to make me stop wanting to erase this feeling from my body.
But then, this is as good as it gets now, isn’t it? We’re all on the bus, all together. Jera and Jacob, Danny and Kate. No one is hurt. No one is dead. For the rest of my life, this is what I’ll be missing.
I drop my head, hands braced on the sink as I grit my teeth against the sounds that want to escape me. The door to the bathroom creaks open. “Jax? Is that you?”
“Room’s occupied,” I try to say, but my voice is so tight it squeaks humiliatingly. Kate forces the door open, pushing me farther into the closet-sized room. There’s not enough space for both of us, so she grabs my hand and pulls me into the hallway.
I cough, closed-mouth, and say, “It’s all yours.” In the darkness, I can barely make out a movement. A head shake, or something like it. She swaps hands so she can turn around, not letting go of me as she heads up front, to the couch that’s the farthest away from the bunks.
“Jax...” She sits and drags me down next to her, hugging me hard, and it’s embarrassing how much I want to hold onto her. For years the band was my refuge, embraces coming as quickly as playful smacks, all of us falling asleep in a pile in front of the PlayStation after a late show. But since the other two got married, I’m not sure where I fit in. As nice as it feels when the girls snuggle into me, I always pull away quickly because I don’t want to piss off their husbands. Instead I survive on what I’ve got—fingernails gripping my back, urging me on—but it’s like candy: sweet but doesn’t fill you up.
Except I know why Danny’s wife is clinging to me now, and it’s not affection. I push her back. “Kate, I’m fine. I’m not doing lines in the bathroom. I’ve got allergies, for Christ’s sake.” A flash of irritation helps strengthen my voice until I almost believe me.
“I know he told you, Jax.”
Kate’s statement crashes into my tenuous calm, and my throat clamps shut again. I clear it once, twice, but I still can’t look at her. I can’t stand the idea of what her face might look like, now that we both know.
“Danny sleeps with his headphones on. He won’t hear us,” she says, keeping her voice down so the road hum will fade the words before they make it all the way back to the bedroom where Jera and Jacob are wrapped around each other. Kate pulls her legs up onto the couch. “Thank God for this tour. I don’t think I could have been away from him right now, but if I didn’t have work to focus on, there would be nothing left of me.”
The blinker c
licks on as the driver changes lanes, then it’s just the silence of miles passing.
“I knew it was a bad idea for him to be on the road in the middle of all this, though.” Kate fidgets with the edge of her sleep shorts. “When Danny’s upset, it comes out in...strange ways.”
“What, you mean how he picked a fight with Ava about appropriate women’s clothing because he was upset about having cancer?” The sarcasm comes out more bitter than funny.
She ducks her head to check my expression, but I just keep staring at her bare feet on the couch between us.
I’ve always said if it weren’t for Danny, I’d have gone for Kate myself. She’s a fixer, like me, and she doesn’t make fun of all my little efficiency systems—she appreciates them. I guess I never realized before that more than anything, I love Kate for the way she loves my best friend.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” My voice sounds as wrecked as I feel. How the hell am I going to go on stage tomorrow? Tonight, it felt like I was singing the whole set with a truck parked on my chest.
“Honestly? We were afraid you’d relapse.” She glances away, and I bet she’s thinking about New York. About what I’m capable of, and what secrets I might let slip if I were that out of control again.
I huff out a breath. It’s half a sneer, half a laugh. Because they should be afraid. God knows I am. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad we waited. It’s worse, somehow, now that you know. And Jera...” Kate stops.
I shake my head. “We can’t tell her. You know we can’t.” Danny and Jera are like Siamese twins. Even after they married other people, that didn’t change. It’s as if there are parts of them that only exist in each other, and nowhere else.
“But if we did, all of us together might be able to convince him.” Guilt dogs her eyes, but she leans in, speaking more quickly. “Look, I know doctors are not what he wants, but I’ve read way more about this than he has. There are tons of things it might be other than cancer, and even if it is malignant, he could opt out of surgery. The other treatments don’t have a great prognosis on their own, but it could be something. I told him all that, and he doesn’t care. Jax, I did everything but roofie him to get him onto an exam table. I begged.” Her voice cracks, just the tiniest bit. She glances away and shoves her sleep-tangled hair back, a flash of headlights through the windshield highlighting the tense line of her shoulders.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Danny’s crazy stubborn, but there’s nothing he won’t do for Kate. Which is why she’s so careful never to ask him for anything.
“I know. Which means—”
“That there’s something he’s not telling us,” I finish before she can. “Fuck.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. Some bizarre twist of Danny Logic that makes him determined to stall facing a diagnosis.” Kate shakes her head. “If I didn’t suspect the whole thing had something to do with Jera, I’d have told her weeks ago. I can’t risk pushing the wrong button, Jax. He’s too unpredictable right now.”
My laugh scars my throat, because there’s nothing funny about how right she is.
She drops her head into her hand, her usually quick fingers stiff as they squeeze her temples. “We need to talk about something else. I have to work in a few hours; nobody can afford for me to break down.” She looks up, her gray eyes focusing on my face. She winces. “You should get some sleep, Jax. I have no idea where you’re getting the kind of energy you put out on stage tonight.”
I grimace at the thought of climbing back into my empty bunk. I rub my hands over my knees, the wiry leg hairs beneath my palms reminding me I’m only wearing boxers. I frown down at them. “I should have grabbed some pants, sorry.”
Kate snorts, but it’s half-hearted like she doesn’t have enough energy for true sarcasm. “Like there’s any part of you the whole world hasn’t seen already. Speaking of which...” She pokes me with her foot. “What’s going on with you and Ava? Heard a rumor the two of you disappeared together all of yesterday afternoon.”
I slump, dropping my head to the back of the couch. It aches with its own weight and I can’t even scrounge up a dirty joke to reassure Kate. I remember a time when I used to date girls I was interested in: one at a time like a normal guy. It was early in college the last time I had a real “girlfriend.” She used to get excited when I woke her up with my tongue, and she came along when I seduced her away from her afternoon classes for an encore, but when my hands started wandering in search of a nightcap, she was over it.
I didn’t mind at the time: I loved the rush of charming so many girls into being at my beck and call. When the band hit it big, it got even easier. But sometime after I got clean, my libido ramped up even more, and it started to seem less like a game and more like a burden.
“That good, huh?” Kate tips her head, but her expression doesn’t match her jokey tone.
“She’s got a thing for me.” I stare at the shadows of the ceiling, the weight of my still-sore ribs dragging at my chest. I need a workout to shake this dishrag feeling out of my body.
When I don’t go on, Kate says, “And you’re not dancing around like a happy little fanboy why exactly? You’ve had her albums on repeat in your car the entire time I’ve known you.”
I shove straight and slash a look at her. “Why the hell do you think, O’Neil? Do I look like good boyfriend material to you? Besides, you’re the one who told me to stay away from her in the first place.”
“Yeah, because you won’t drop the super slut rock star act.”
I blink in surprise and she sits back.
“It doesn’t suit you. Never did.”
“It’s not an act, Kate.”
I close my mouth after that, hard, but can’t help sneaking a look at her. We know more than we should about each other, considering she’s married to my buddy. A tour bus will do that. Hell, a band will do that. I’ve been to the sex clubs Danny likes, the one where the snap of a whip is foreplay, and girls are crying out in more than pleasure. Hell, I’ve been the main stage attraction in his clubs on more than one night, because I don’t mind getting off with an audience. I know Kate and Danny have walked those same rooms together—and maybe those stages—even after the dark ink of their wedding bands settled on their fingers.
“What is it, then?” Her voice is gentle, but the kind with a fist underneath. I’d never say this to another girl, but Kate can handle it.
“I have to.” The words whoosh out on a single breath. “If I don’t get off twice in a day, my skin fucking hurts. It’s like a migraine, or a hangover. Every sound is too loud, every word anybody says pisses me off. If I want to actually feel normal, I need three or four times.” I pause, and decide not to mention that doesn’t count self-maintenance. Kate doesn’t need to know what I do in the one tiny bus bathroom. “On days when we play a show, it’s more. If we’ve been off the road for too long, it’s more. If we play a bad show, it’s more.” I press my fists into the cushions of the couch beneath me, because I want to hit something. Saying all this out loud makes it feel even more like my dick has me on a leash. A short one.
“And you think Ava will mind?” Kate smirks, dropping her chin onto her upraised knees. “Have you ever seen her dance?”
“Yeah, girls don’t mind at first, but over time...” I throw her a black look. “Besides, you know our tour schedule. She doesn’t have time for a game of Tic Tac Toe, much less enough to keep up with me. So let’s say we get together. What do you think is going to happen with the tour once I start clawing at the walls? Once I...” I break off, scrubbing a hand over my face, my knee starting to bounce restlessly. “I don’t make promises anymore,” I say in a low voice. “I’m sick as shit of breaking them.”
Kate grabs me around the back of the neck, her fingers digging in painfully as she forces me to look at her. “So don’t,” she growls. When she lets me go, the marks of her fingers throb with returning blood. “I watched you detox from heroin, Jax,” she says. “Don’t tell me you can’t.” S
he shakes her head, lips twisting in dark amusement. “You think Danny doesn’t get horny when I’m gone? Danny?” All of a sudden, she seems to remember and her face glitches, going utterly blank for a second before she blinks, her eyes shinier than they were a second ago. She clears her throat and drops her feet back onto the floor, picking at the edge of her sleep shorts again.
I reach out and squeeze her shoulder, dying to tell her he’ll be okay. But I choke back the lie. She lifts a hand and puts it on top of mine, squeezing lightly. When she finally brings herself to look up again, her eyes are damp but she’s smiling a little.
“You know, when I first met you, I thought you were sweet. Charming, a teensy bit OCD, and kind of airheaded.”
“Um...oh?” How exactly am I supposed to take that?
She laughs, releasing my hand. I take it off her shoulder, because I don’t want Danny to wake up and see me sitting here in my skivvies with my arm around his wife. My ribs already hurt enough.
“Then I actually got to know you.” The amusement slips away until the lines of her face match the somber silence of the bus. “And it broke my heart a little more every time I watched you onscreen, making the world fall in love with one-tenth of who you actually are.”
I shake my head. Kate was there in rehab, the one time in my life when I stopped lying, stopped drinking and smoking and fucking for two of the worst, longest months of my life. I don’t have to look at her for both of us to feel the secret between us. She was the only one who was there with me, that single awful night in New York City. She knows drugs are far from the darkest shame I carry.
A bitter scrap of a laugh escapes me as I look down. “Yeah. I’m a real catch.”
If I talked like this to Jera, she’d argue with me. Tell me I was an amazing guy, that my sins don’t define me. Even if a tiny part of her agreed, she would argue. Kate just listens without a trace of pity in her unwavering gaze.
“So what are you going to do about it?”
Insatiable (Sex, Love, and Rock & Roll Book 3) Page 13