Fury

by Tammy Coons

  “I’m not some groupie you can impress with your two albums.” Stephanie turned away dismissively and sauntered into the restroom.

  She opened the door and as she turned to close it behind her Phillip rushed in, taking her by surprise. He shut the door and locked it.

  “Really?” She folded her arms and looked at him, unimpressed.

  She attempted to push past him and he stepped in her way.

  “You have got to be shitting me. Even you aren’t this much of a Neanderthal.” He threw back his head with a condescending laugh. Steph hauled back to slap him. He caught her hand. Steph tried to free her arm to no avail.

  “Smug little bitch.” He brought his lips down hard on hers. She briefly struggled, then found herself kissing him back just as aggressively. As she wrapped her arms around his neck his grip on her loosened and he pushed her back, pinning her against the wall. His hands moved over her body firmly but not roughly. She gasped as he broke off the kiss. Her mind raced. Phillip? She was kissing Phillip of all people! Though unexpected and unbelievable, she had no desire to stop. His mouth moved skillfully to her neck and bit down softly, his lips still wet from hers. Steph wanted to have him on the spot. She moved her hand to his zipper, and was pleased to discover him bulging underneath his dark denim. He grabbed her tighter, his left hand moving up her shirt. She arched her back, eager for him to caress her breasts. The heat between them was intense, fogging over the mirror.

  “Hurry up in there,” Nathan said from outside the door. Steph and Phillip froze and pulled apart. Over as quickly as it had begun, Phillip’s face seemed to mirror her expression of shock and awe. Nathan pounded on the door.

  “Stephanie, are you in there!” She heard him giggle, and immediately after, she heard Bret laugh softly in the distance. Dreading the razzing that was coming her way, Steph blushed as Phillip rearranged his clothing. His eyes searched her face for a moment but before she could speak, he opened the door. Nathan stood outside with a smile. Steph walked past him without a word.

  “Joining the mile high club? Just a little advice, you have to wait ‘til we leave the ground,” Bret murmured and she heard Nathan snicker. Steph quickly found an empty seat and sat down.

  “Would you like some company?” Cheyenne asked as she boarded the plane a moment later. Steph shrugged.

  “You’re trembling,” Cheyenne pushed. “Are you feeling sick?”

  “Yes and no,” Steph replied.

  “I’m sorry I keep fucking up.”

  “Let’s not talk about this right now.” Steph felt like she might hyperventilate. Not only had she been kissed by the must infuriating client she’d ever photographed, but she’d had her hands all over his body. Thinking about his huge hands made her giddy. Suddenly Cheyenne’s behavior seemed a lot less insane. Conflicted, she wasn’t prepared to forgive Cheyenne, and yet she felt like a hypocrite having spent the last few minutes groping Fury’s front man.

  Cheyenne sighed then glanced around and caught Nathan undressing her with his eyes. She looked away as Scot kneeled down next to her.

  “We have some free time in the next few days. Since you’ve never been to Ireland, I’d love to show you around, if you’d like.” Cheyenne saw Steph shoot Scot a dirty look and he seemed to ignore her entirely. Cheyenne looked into his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to beckon her. Sensing Steph’s disproving glare, Cheyenne shrugged.

  “I’ll be confined to my room for the next couple of days.” Cheyenne’s eyes nervously darted to Ian and saw Steve at his side watching her. Scot glanced in his direction way as well. She felt like she was clinging to a raft in a sea surrounded by sharks “Don’t worry about them. What we do in our free time is none of their concern.” Scot eyes fixed on Cheyenne’s.

  “You’re absolutely right, but Steve really makes me nervous,” Cheyenne whispered.

  “She looked at Steph, who had turned away from them and cuddled up with her pillow. Scared to blow the assignment and scared her pal wouldn’t forgive her, she looked back to Scot and shook her head.

  “So, back to your confinement.” Scot ran a finger over her hand and she shivered. Just then the seatbelt sign came on. “We’ll talk later.”

  Watching him retreat, she leaned back in her seat regret consuming her. She closed her eyes.

  “Cheyenne?” David quickly took the seat across from her and put on his seatbelt.

  “Hey David. What’s up?”

  “Just thought you might want to see what was on ‘Stars Nightly’.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a popular celebrity gossip show all over Europe.” David serious expression gave her pause.

  “What?’ She sighed, and took his computer.

  Footage of Scot and Nathan shoving each other filmed on a cell phone played in the video clip. Horrified, she saw the camera had captured her image.

  “Great,” Cheyenne moaned, wondered how things could get any worse.

  “Steph.” Cheyenne whispered in her ear, “Wake up.”

  “Hmm…?”

  “We’re landing.”

  “Wait ‘till you see Dublin.” Scot remarked from across the aisle. Ian and Steve continued to watch them. The intensity of Steve’s gaze made her very uneasy. After David’s revelation of the viral video, her apprehension was nearly insurmountable.

  The plane landed and Cheyenne and Steph removed their seatbelts. Cheyenne stood and stretched, noticing Scot scanning her body as she did.

  “My head is pounding,” Steph mumbled, rubbing her temples. Cheyenne sighed. “Great.”

  “What?” Scot asked from behind her.

  “Is something wrong?” Ian asked, looking at Steph.

  “I think she’s getting a migraine.”

  “And? It’s just a headache.”

  “Hardly.”

  “We need to get to the hotel. Let’s go.” Ian seemed to take her at face value and snapped his fingers. Cheyenne helped Steph stand.

  “I’m Ok.” I’ve got it,” Steph said as she walked slowly down the aisle.

  “Once off the plane, Scot and Cheyenne were herded into separate limos by security. Cheyenne ended up in a limo with Phillip, Goddess, David, Bret and Ian. Fans rocked the limo and she was beginning to feel sea sick.

  “This is like, so cool!” Goddess chomped her gum. She pulled out her camera and began taking pictures. As Ian strategized an escape with the driver, and David and Bret argued over the dance party, Phillip and Cheyenne sat silent. She had never seen him looking so blue. His expression seemed very sad and disappointed.

  “Phillip,” Cheyenne said, momentarily distracted from the motion sickness. “Are you ever going to be available for a one on one with Steph?” With surprise, Cheyenne watched him blush and a small mysterious smile tugged at his lips.

  “Not in the next couple of days.”

  “There’s no sense in putting it off. It has to happen.”

  Phillip cleared his throat as police interference allowed the limo to break free from the crowd. David began the dance party. The first number was “Unbelievable” by EMF.

  “In all seriousness, the next two days are booked. We have a press conference and a radio appearance tomorrow. The day after that, I’m going to see my grandparents.. It will be an all day trip.” Phillip seamed earnest in his response.

  “That would be a great place to get some photos done,” Ian chimed in. “What time are you leaving?”

  “No.”

  “Oh come on, Stephanie can tag along and take a few pictures,” Ian argued. “Or we could send Goddess with you.”

  Phillip glanced at Goddess, who was banging her head to the music, and rolled his eyes.

  “Fine. Just make sure the rental car and Stephanie are ready to go when I am,” he grumbled.

  “Great.” Cheyenne was relieved. They made their way to the hotel. Thankfully, due to their delayed arrival, few fans awaited them. They all clambered out. Cheyenne made her way to the other limo. Scot got out first, then he and Natha
n helped Steph out.

  As they approached the entrance, Scot walked to Cheyenne and touched her back.

  “I’ve got to make sure Steph gets settled,” Cheyenne said.

  “Can I see you later?” Scot asked.

  Cheyenne hesitated and her eyes implored him to back off as she entered the lobby of The Clarence. She felt strangely honored to be staying in a hotel owned by two members of rock royalty—Bono and The Edge. The lobby was simple and underscored with stone floors and wood paneling. Cheyenne was disappointed until she wandered past the bar, The Octagon, which got its name from the glass octagon dome above the bar. The art deco floors, welcoming fireplace, and arts and crafts windows appealed to Cheyenne. Though very simple, compared to the other hotels, she felt very comfortable here. She requested her room number from the receptionist and walked to the baggage porter.

  “Hello Miss,” the man said in a thick Irish accent. Adam Brier would have sounded positively Midwestern next to this guy.

  “Hello,” Cheyenne said smiling. She reached down and read the tags to make sure the bags were hers and Steph’s.” Would you please follow me?”

  “Yes Miss,” the man said.

  Cheyenne walked away, glancing back at Scot . He thrilled her so much and his lovemaking skills were unbelievable; his continuous attention made her feel like the only woman in the world. When alone with Scot, she felt beautiful and wanted, not only sexually. She did want to sightsee and couldn’t think of a better choice of a tour guide. Knowing this entire experience would be over soon, she decided to go with the flow and enjoy herself.

  She turned to him and held up her fingers to show him her room number. He nodded and smiled.

  Once at the room, the porter placed Cheyenne and Steph’s luggage inside..

  “Have a nice stay.” The porter quickly took the twenty she handed him and left the room. Cheyenne went to Steph’s room. Once inside, Steph crashed out on the bed. Bret, Nathan and David, who had evidently helped Steph with her luggage, stood near the window, smoking and talking.

  “That cigarette smoke isn’t helping her migraine. You should go. She just needs to rest,” Cheyenne lectured. She gave Nathan a wide berth.

  “Ok,” Bret said.” Let’s go check out the hotel.”

  “Thanks guys,” Steph mumbled. The three of them left Steph’s room.

  “Steph, do you need anything?” Cheyenne asked sitting next to her on the bed.

  “Just sleep. It’s not as bad this time.” Cheyenne pulled the curtains to keep out the sunrise.

  “Steph …?”

  “Yeah?” Steph groaned.

  “You’re going with Phillip to his grandparents the day after tomorrow.” Cheyenne awaited Steph’s response.

  Steph sat straight up. “Ow… I can’t.”

  “You have to. It’s all arranged.”

  “I hate you,” she groaned.

  “I’ll text you the time. Just make sure you are awake and alive.”

  “No…” Steph growled.

  “Get better.”

  Cheyenne shut off the light, closed the adjoining door, and locked it. She looked around her room. It was lovely and modern with a king sized bed. Two chairs were nestled around a small table near the dormer window to her small balcony. There was a charming view toward the Dublin Mountains and the color pallet was earthy, with all handmade furnishings. She took the time to hang her clothes in the floor to ceiling wardrobe and decided as she finished that this was indeed her favorite hotel to date. It was beautiful and unassuming.

  A quiet tap on her door startled her. When she opened it, Scot stood before her with a huge smile and bottle of Irish whiskey in his hand.

  “When in Dublin...” he said, holding up the bottle.

  “Did anyone see you?” Cheyenne pulled him into the room.

  “Just Bret.” Scot whispered back.

  “What did he say?” Cheyenne closed the door.

  “Cheers.” Scot shrugged causing her to utter a husky laugh. “So…what made you change your mind?’

  “I thought about what you said and you’re right. Our free time is our business, not theirs. I haven’t been here and since you’re such an avid traveler I thought you’d make the best tour guide.

  Scot smiled as he pulled out a baseball cap and sunglasses.

  “Have your heart set on seeing anything in particular?”

  “I haven’t had a lot of time to research Dublin. I guess the writer in me would love to see the Book of Kells. And I’m sure this may be very cliché, but I would love to see Malahide Castle.”

  “Fantastic. Do you mind if we have breakfast first? I’m famished!”

  With Scot’s subtle disguise in place, they managed to get to the valet without running into anyone associated with Fury, except Magda, the hair dresser. Her disinterest was obvious; she was far too busy making time with the concierge.

  Scot had managed to arrange for a rental car. It was a tiny car and, watching him fold his lanky body into it, Cheyenne burst into fits of laughter.

  “What?” Scot cocked an eyebrow.

  “Nothing…”Cheyenne tried and failed to wipe the smirk from her face.

  Initially as they sped off, Cheyenne was unnerved by being in what she considered to be the driver’s seat without a steering wheel. Soon she relaxed; Scot was a far more cautious driver than Stephanie. Shortly, they arrived at their breakfast destination, Bewley’s Grafton Street Café.

  “This place is my favorite. I could sit here all day with a book, if they’d let me.” Scot took her by the hand and led her in. A hostess seated them in a charming, well lit room with warm wood floors. Their table was near a large window and as the sunlight streamed down on them, Cheyenne couldn’t believe how handsome Scot looked in a simple baseball cap.

  Scot ordered various items for Cheyenne to try.

  “I’m game for everything but tea.”

  Scott mocked an incredulous look.

  “Hey, what can I say? We Americans like the bean, not the leaf.”

  “Fine, have it your way.” He smiled at her fondly.

  “Scot, you need to see what David showed me on the plane.” She pulled the video up on her phone. After watching it, Scot shrugged.

  “It’ll blow over in a day.” Cheyenne wasn’t sure she agreed. She was about to tell him as much, when his cell phone rang and he looked at it.

  “Excuse me Cheyenne, I have to take this.”

  She nodded and took a sip of the rich coffee the waitress presented her. She was delighted that the cream had been poured in the shape of a heart.

  “Hello, Hannah. How’s my girl?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he spoke. Instantly on high alert, Cheyenne stopped mid sip. Jealousy surfaced in her abruptly and she spilled a small amount of coffee on the table. Grabbing her napkin, she began to sop it up with a trembling hand.

  He repeatedly nodded and with a surprised expression, Scot howled with laughter.

  “Hannah, put your sister on the phone before she has a nervous breakdown. Molly…Molly! Yes, it’s Uncle Scoty. You cannot pull your sisters hair, ever. Understand?”

  Cheyenne felt a wave of relief and looked at Scot as if she’d never seen him before. Exuding affection and adoration as he spoke to his nieces, she found him more attractive than ever.

  Their food came in no time and Cheyenne began to sample the breakfast.

  “I’m in Ireland and I’m having breakfast with a dear friend.” He gave Cheyenne a conspiratorial wink. “Yes, she’s a girl… Cheyenne…maybe. Molly, I have to eat or I am going to waste away. I love you too and I will see you at the end of the month. Listen to Hannah. Because I said so.”

  He hung up the phone grinning.

  “Those two are wild animals. What do you think? Isn’t it tasty?”

  Devouring their breakfast, Scot took Cheyenne to Trinity College Library which housed the Book of Kells. No one seemed to recognize Scot, the crowd was largely academic. Afterward, they discussed the book’s history as they dro
ve north up the coast to the castle.

  “Wow!” Cheyenne gaped as the castle first came into view. Historic buildings like this were commonplace in Europe and remembering who she was with, she felt like a rube. “I’m sure it seems silly to you, but it gives me chills.”

  “It’s not silly. This place is epic.” Intrigued, they parked and hurried in.

  “I think your instincts are well-honed. This place supposedly has five ghosts,” Scot commented as he thumbed through the pamphlet. As they wandered the stunning castle, an audio tour played over loud speakers giving them the history. Scot’s favorite room was the library. Cheyenne fell in love with the Victorian Glass House, a giant greenhouse built for plants that wouldn’t grow locally due to the acrid soil.

  Later, as they made their way back to Dublin, Scot asked if Cheyenne was interested in having lunch and a tour at the Guinness Storehouse. The tour wasn’t long, but she noticed a few suspicious glances in Scot’s direction. There were a lot more hipsters and backpackers sightseeing at Guinness. This age group was Fury’s fan base, and she wondered how long Scot could remain incognito.

  As they took a seat in the bistro, Cheyenne sensed more and more eyes on them. Scot seemed oblivious, his focus only on her. Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen to see it was Gerald.

  “My turn.” She cocked her head apologetically at Scot and answered.

  “Hey. Batting zero on this Steve Duran of yours. I am not sure who he works for, but it’s not the record label.”

  “Thanks for trying.”

  “I’ll keep at it. Oh, and Goddess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “No one in the L.A. office has heard of her.” Cheyenne dropped the fry she was holding. She sat straight up. Scot stopped cutting his steak, throwing her a concerned look.

  “Are you certain?”

  “I checked into this myself, Cheyenne. Who the hell have you guys been running around Europe with?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ll call you soon.”

  “You’d better.”

  As she hung up the phone, Cheyenne realized she’d lost her appetite.

  “Bad news?” Cheyenne dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand.