“I was already awake. She’d barely started fussing.” His eyes fell back down to Savannah. “Sweet little princess.”
I laid my head on his shoulder and looked at Savannah. I didn’t want this life to be disrupted. I enjoyed it just being us, and after tomorrow that would be gone. I’d be lucky to get three hours of quality time with him, but more than anything I knew none of us were ready for that tour.
Chapter 36
Jag sat our bags down and I adjusted Savannah in my arms. He reached over, taking the diaper bag from my shoulder just as Jules walked over and peered down at her. “Oh, my God. She just gets cuter every time I see her.” She swatted at Jag. “How the hell did you make something so fucking cute?”
“Like there was a choice,” he said, digging through the diaper bag for a blanket.
Jules rubbed over Savannah’s bare toes. “Well, this will definitely be a different experience. Jag, his wife, and his baby, all on tour with us.”
She shot a smirk over to Stone. “I guess all the group sex in the tour bus is nixed from now on for you poor fuckers, huh?” She paused, then cleared her throat. “And I better not catch any of you screwing around with the nanny. She’s on the clock as long as she’s with us, and we are not paying her to divvy out blow jobs or bend over a chair for any of you. Got that?”
Stone and Pax nodded, mumbling to themselves as they piled their bags together.
Rush stretched, slapping his hand across the back of Jag’s head. “Fucking it all up for the single guys.”
“Shut up, Rush.”
Pax looked completely unamused with the new rules that had been set without his approval. “So, Jag gets to fuck as much as he wants just because he’s married. And we all have to take it somewhere else? What about you two?” He pointed at Rush and Jules. “You two gonna fuck in the bus too, just because you’re all monogamous and shit? That’s fucked up. Like a baby would know anyway.” He shot a glare at me. “My dick hates you.”
Jag narrowed his gaze on Pax and ran his tongue over his lips. “Don’t even fucking joke with her like that. Got it? I will throat punch you the next time you are the slightest bit disrespectful to her.”
Pax rolled his eyes and plopped down on the chair in the corner of the room. “Yeah, dude. Got it.”
Jag took Savannah from me, wrapping the end of the blanket over her feet.
“That’s still so weird, and awkward looking,” Pax groaned, a look of confusion settling on his face. “Jag has a kid. And the mom lets him touch her. It makes me nervous.”
I wrinkled my brow at him.
Pax shrugged. “Look, I’m just saying it’s weird.”
“Okay, okay. We’ve got to get this fucked-up Partridge family show on the road,” Jules said, opening the door to the hallway. She pointed out to the hall and Jag handed the baby back over to me.
After all the guys had filed out, her eyes found me and the corners of her lips flipped up. “You sure you up for this? It’s a lot of travel, and a lot of shit. What you saw when you came down for that one night in Charleston—well, honey, you didn’t really see anything. Jag and Rush may have calmed their shit down, but none of the rest of them have, and now we have the opening act, which I’m afraid may be on the same level of disgusting as Pandemic Sorrow was.”
She paused, then shook her head. “You’re gonna get pissed, annoyed, and be tempted to beat the piss out of at least one of them before this shit is over. Not to mention, it doesn’t matter that he’s married, Jag is still a rock star. Women are still gonna try to fuck him, flirt with him—maybe even more now that he’s spoken for—and all that shit is part of his job to entertain them.” Sighing, she tickled the bottom of Savannah’s feet. “I mean, he’s still gonna have to act like Jag Steele, which means he’s gonna have to flirt, a little. You sure you can handle that?”
The look she gave me was one of concern, worry, and apology.
I’d be lying if I said that comment didn’t piss me off. His job is to flirt with women? My hand patted over Savannah’s back. “I guess I don’t have a choice but to handle it, do I?”
Her face softened, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “You seriously are brave, honey. Most women can’t handle that. It’s hard to keep up a relationship in this business. And I really hope that the two of you can make this work. The cards are stacked against you, just don’t let them win.”
She sighed, tickled Savannah’s toes again, then walked out the door.
I hated being reminded that our relationship was anything but normal.
Not only was I married to a recovering addict, I was married to a famous recovering addict that was a sex symbol.
I had to share him with more women than I wanted to think about. And it wasn’t that I thought Jag would cheat on me, because I really didn’t. I just couldn’t stand the idea of another woman thinking she could take what was mine.
He had to reciprocate fans flirtatiousness, and that meant that some of them would think he wanted them. Some of them would think our marriage was meaningless because he had just laughed at their ridiculous offer to suck his dick. Unlike normal relationships, I was going to have to look at tabloids in the check-out line and read the headlines that my husband was allegedly cheating on me.
I walked toward the door, eying the posters of Pandemic Sorrow plastered all over the room. I stopped to study the one right by the exit. It was a black and white still of Jag on his knees, stage light aimed on him. The camera had caught him mid-thrust as he shoved his leather- clad-dick out to the sea of hands reaching for him. He was sweaty, eyeliner rimmed around his eyes, black polish on his hands that were gripping the mic.
That was my husband.
And it still didn’t seem real to me.
I had only seen him in that environment a handful of times, four to be exact. Three times at concerts before he even knew who I was, and once as his girlfriend.
I lived with him.
I saw him without the eyeliner, without the jewelry. I woke up to him with his hair all over the place, I walked in on him pissing on a daily basis…over the months since his overdose, or suicide attempt, whatever it was, this rock god thing had become surreal to me.
It seemed like that was another person. And honestly, it kind of was. That rock god in the poster was blitzed out of his mind. And the guy I was married to had been sober for a year.
And even a year later, I knew sobriety was a daily struggle for him. At least once a week he talked to me about wanting to take something, swearing to me that he wouldn’t. He promised he was just trying to purge that want from himself by talking about it.
Sobriety was hard for him, and that was the main reason I was going on tour with a three month old in tow. It wasn’t ideal by any means, but I couldn’t let him try to face those demons alone. I was terrified that this tour was going to push him to the brink of relapse, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.
I made my way out, down the hallway, and to the back of the building where the bus was parked. Jag was leaned against the outside, picking at his cuticles. When he saw me, he started laughing.
“What?” I asked, suspiciously arching a brow at him.
“Ah, nothing, princess. Just funny to me that she’s going on her first tour.” He shook his head. “She’s never gonna know what normal is, poor thing.”
“Oh, you got that right, for sure.”
He walked me to the stairs of the bus. “Be careful not to trip, okay?”
I stepped up into the bus, the sleek black interior lit up by iridescent lights on the ceiling. “This makes me a horrible mother, doesn’t it? Carting a baby all over the world to rock shows?”
Jag took Savannah from me, securing her in the car seat strapped down on one of the dark grey leather seats. Smiling, he said, “Nope. It makes you one hell of an amazing fucking wife.”
Stone came out from the back. His lips curled up into a devious smirk. “Man, thank you. Just thank you. Both of you.” He plopped down on the seat, brushin
g his hand over the top of the car seat.
Jag straightened up and furrowed his brow. “What the hell are you thanking me for?”
Stone let out a deep, sex-glazed laugh. “Have you seen the new nanny? Holy shit. She is fucking hot! Are those tits real?”
I rolled my eyes and brushed past him to put my bag out of the way. “No girl is safe around you guys, are they?”
“Hey, I can’t help that I have a dick and it has needs. I appreciate beautiful women.” He turned to Jag. “We can’t let Rush fuck with her. He’ll mess with her head, and then half-way through the tour you’ll have to hire another nanny.”
Jag glared around him at me to see if I was listening. I shook my head and continued sorting through the bag. “Rush better not fuck with her!”
“Oh, come on now.” Stone shrugged. “You know he’ll fuck with anyone’s head that he can. He may be with Jules, but he can’t help but be a dick. It’s who he is deep down inside, Rox.”
Jag agreed, “It’s true, but I’m not helping you out. Although she did say you were her favorite, you know since I’m no longer available and all.”
Loud footsteps clamored up the stairs, and Rush bellowed out a loud yell. “Bitches better get their pussies ready. Pandemic Sorrow is about to hit the road. Woo-hoo!”
Immediately, Jag and I shushed him.
“You got to be quiet or you’ll wake her up!” I scolded, pointing at the sleeping baby.
Rush tossed his hand ups and slid against the wall. “Okay. Sorry, fuck.” He looked around the bus and his shoulders dropped. “Ah, hell, who am I kidding? We’re two men down and Pax is a lazy fuck. We’re as good as classic rock now.”
Pax came tromping up the stairs, not getting all the way inside the bus before he laid into Jag. “When we get to Europe I’m really gonna need you guys to get your own bus. This is not the life I’m accustomed to—at all.”
Rush pushed off from the wall. “For old time’s sake, you know, just to make this feel like the start of a legitimate tour and all, I feel I should say, my dicks thirsty for pussy!” He snickered, glancing at Jules and wiggling his eyebrows. “This tour is gonna be epic. Especially since your worn out dick is out of commission, Jag.” Another quick burst of laughter came rumbling from his chest. “A year ago I would have had a list, determined to go on a scavenger hunt for each kind of girl I planned to fuck. But now, I’m a changed man. This tour I’ve made up a list of all the places I’m gonna defile Jules. First stop on the Tour De One Pussy, London Bridge!” He humped the air, waving one arm around like he had a lasso. “Really looking forward to fucking that off of my list.”
Jules walked up, her face wrinkled in disgust just as Rush had finished his sentence. Her eyes darted over to me, and she nodded. “See. We haven’t even left the studio, and I already have one I’m needing to slap the piss out of.” She smacked him, and he jumped back, rubbing his hand over his stinging chest.
“Sit the hell down and shut up!” Jules ordered.
Stone and Jag laughed and I let out a sigh as I took a seat. This was going to be my life for the next ten months. At this rate I was afraid Savannah’s first word would either be “fuck” or “pussy”.
Chapter 37
Jag paced the hotel room. Every few seconds he would release a long breath, then pull his hair back in his hands. Suddenly, he reared his arm back, but instead of punching the wall like I knew he wanted to do, he let it fall to his side and groaned.
“I can’t. I can’t do it.”
There was a knock at the door and I rose from the bed to answer it. I opened it to Heather grinning. “You ready for me to take her?”
“Yeah. Come on in. We need to be going anyway.” I shut the door behind her and called out, “Hey, babe. We’ve got to get going. You have to be there in thirty minutes. Jules said the limo is waiting.”
As Heather and I made our way down the hallway of the suite, Jag let out an angst-ridden scream.
Heather’s eyes slowly moved over to mine, her lips slightly parting. “Is he okay? Uh,” she started back toward the door, obviously uncomfortable. “Want me to give you a few more minutes?”
Shaking my head, I cleared my throat. “No, he’s fine. He’s just a little on edge about the show, that’s all.”
We rounded the corner into the large living room and Jag yelled again, and this time the howl was followed by a long string of curse words.
“I can’t fucking do this,” he shouted, and I heard things banging around.
I forced my lips to curve up, hoping that the heat coursing over my cheeks hadn’t turned my face red. “Just a bit upset.”
Savannah let out a shrill cry and I started to go toward the bedroom, but Heather grabbed my arm. “Let me get her. You get ready to leave. Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling slightly guilty for letting someone else tend to Savannah when I knew she really wanted me. Just as I started to follow Heather to the bedroom, I heard something shatter.
I hurried into the bathroom and found Jag leaning over the sink, holding his hand with blood dripping from his knuckles.
I glanced up to the mirror. The middle of it had been smashed, and cracks splintered out from the initial point of impact across most of its surface.
“Babe!” I gasped.
He didn’t even look up at me. His eyes remained focused on his hand, his breathing ragged and heavy.
“What in the hell are you doing?” I shouted, walking toward him.
He looked up into the mirror at me, and the crushed glass sent several different reflections of his face back at me.
His skin was flushed, his eyes hard and narrowed in anger. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing? Bleeding into the goddamn sink!”
I stopped midstride. “Don’t be an ass to me. I haven’t done a damn thing to you.”
A loud sigh flew from his mouth, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled, flexing his fingers. Bright red blood continued to trail down his arm.
I grabbed one of the hand towels from the basket under the vanity and took his hand. “Shit, Jag. You’ve got pieces of glass all in your knuckles. How are you gonna play now?” I tried to dig shards out of his flesh and glanced back up at the broken beveled mirror. “You know we’re gonna have to pay for that now?”
He laughed and leaned back against the counter while I continued to pull tiny grains of glass from his wound. “Do you realize how much money we have, princess? I could fuck this entire suite up, and it wouldn’t even put a dent in our account.”
I yanked a sliver of glass out of his flesh and glared at him.
“What?”
Disgusted, I shook my head and wrapped the towel around his hand. “We’ve got to go.”
I turned to leave the room, expecting him to follow me, but he just stood there staring down at the floor.
“Come on, Jag. I’m not kidding. We’ve gotta go.”
His shoulders fell and he reluctantly pushed himself away from the vanity. His demeanor reminded me of a small, sulking child.
When we entered the bedroom, Heather had settled in, already rocking Savannah and feeding her a bottle.
She glanced up, her pink lips softening to a smile. “She’ll be fine. Promise. I’ll call you and Jules if there’s any problems. Okay?”
I nodded and leaned over to give Savannah a kiss. Jag knelt down and placed his pointer finger inside Savannah’s palm. She immediately wrapped her tiny fingers around his and moved her round eyes to look at him.
“You be sweet, okay, princess?”
She smiled around the nipple of her bottle, and he kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
As soon as he rose, stress blanketed his face once again. “Come on,” he said, guiding me to the door.
We made our way down the elevator and to the front of the hotel where a stretch Hummer was waiting.
I had been with Jag for a little over a year, and I still wasn’t used to this shit. It’s
hard to go from living off Ramen noodles and trying to decide which bill you can pay to having more money than you know what to do with.
The tinted window rolled down and Rush popped his head out. “Come on, fucker. Get your ass in here so we can go!”
The driver came around to our side of the car and opened the door. As soon as the door had been shut, Jag’s palms plastered to his face.
He wiped down his jaw and his eyes darted over to me. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this. I really don’t. You have no idea how badly I just want to do something. I need something. My nerves…princess, my nerves are—”
I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine.” I tried reassuring him, but this was the moment I had been dreading. I glanced over to the rest of the guys, and they looked as lost as I felt.
I knew being sober when he was at home had been a hell of a lot easier than it would be on the road. This was where he’d first done it, where he’d become reliant on it, and honestly, the drugs were what gave birth to the rock star side of him.
Jag was literally a nervous wreck without them. I had never seen him like this, and I seriously doubted that he could pull it off.
“Would it be that bad if I took something? Maybe just a little OxyContin, or maybe just smoked some pot? Rush, you got some of that shit, right?”
An uncomfortable breath hissed through Rush’s teeth. “Nope. Don’t have anything. You don’t need it, dude. You got this.”
“Just one hit of some weed, that won’t hurt me, right? I mean, I could do that. Or some Xanax. They prescribe that fucking shit for anxiety, so that wouldn’t really be abuse…”
He was mumbling, sweat beading up on his forehead and collecting between our palms. For a second I thought he may be near tears. He wiped his free hand down his face, and he looked defeated. He panted, his eyes wide as he aimlessly stared out the window.
“I fucking can’t do this shit,” he whispered.
I leaned over and laid my lips against his briefly, then pressed my forehead to his and looked in his eyes. “You can do it.” I kissed him again. “If nothing else you can do it for Savannah. You are Jag Steele, not drugs. Drugs did not make Jag Steele, you did.”
Roxy (Pandemic Sorrow #3) Page 24