No Treble Allowed: A Straight Wicked Novel

by Kristine Allen

  I’d completely forgotten she had family in Alabama, so when she’d slipped in the door as soon as the guys had left, I was shocked.

  “Mina, shut the fuck up and get the fuck out.” My words slurred slightly as I kicked her out. It hadn’t taken her two seconds to set up a few lines and start. She’d thought I was going to jump right in, but I wasn’t going to, except I knew that wasn’t what Stella was seeing.

  Stella huffed out a disgusted laugh. “No, Mina. Please don’t let me interrupt.” As she turned to leave, I jumped up and over the table, nearly falling on my face.

  “Stella, no. Mina, out!” My yelling must have gotten through to Mina, because she shrugged, snorted her last line, then casually sauntered past me where I held Stella’s stiff form.

  “Your loss, but you know where to find me.” With a pucker of her red lips, Mina left. Thank God.

  Once she was out the door, I turned my wife to face me. “Stella, please believe me. Nothing happened with her, and nothing was going to happen. I didn’t even know she was in town.”

  “Really. That’s why instead of kicking her out right away or walking away yourself, you just sat there drinking and doing whatever the fuck else you did.” The pain in her watery blue gaze was like a knife to the chest.

  Hanging my head in shame, I had nothing but the truth. “I didn’t want the guys to know I was drinking again, so I figured I’d finish, then ditch Mina and head to the VIP meet and greet.”

  When she jerked out of my hold and stepped back, the room spun. I hadn’t intended to drink as much as I had, but when her phone kept going straight to voicemail, I thought the worst. As usual, everything spiraled from there.

  “How long?” Her nostrils flared as her arms folded tightly round her middle.

  “How long what?” My brain wasn’t processing like it should, and I was so fucking pissed at myself. When I stepped toward her, she gave a sharp shake of her head and moved closer to the door.

  “How long have you been using again?” She pressed her lips in a flat line, and I stood helplessly as a tear slipped down her cheek.

  Fuck, I really didn’t want to admit the truth to her. My eyes closed in an effort to hide.

  “Since a few days after you left. I was just so worried about you.” Softly, I admitted my guilt.

  “Logan, do not use me as your excuse. Do. Not. This is on you. This is your choice. But I can’t sit by and watch you self-destruct anymore. I’ve tried to make sure you got help and be there for you, but you don’t want to help yourself. I can’t be around to see you kill yourself. Life is too damn precious and too freaking short already.” A shaky breath as she fought for control had me wanting to hold her, but she moved further out of my reach.

  “I thought I might be enough for you. I thought maybe I could fix you.” She snorted out a disgusted laugh. “What a fucking idiot I was. The sad thing is, I knew better.”

  “Baby. It’s not like that. You are enough. It’s fucking hard not to turn to that shit as my coping mechanism every time something goes wrong or my head gets fucked up.” Imploringly, I held my hand out to her as my body imploded. Holding her palm out to ward me off, she grasped the doorknob behind her with one hand. Stumbling back as if I’d taken a direct blow, I fell back on the couch.

  Sniffling, she shook her head before she wiped away a tear, gazing balefully at me one last time. “I do love you, Logan. More than you’ll ever know, which is why I can’t watch you do this to yourself. Goodbye.” Sitting on the couch in a near drunken stupor, I watched as the best thing that had ever happened to me walked out the door.

  The last few shows before we headed home before Europe were tense. The guys didn’t know I’d started drinking again, but they knew something had happened between Stella and me.

  In my mind, I defended my actions by telling myself I had only taken the pills once and I knew I was fucking up bad, so I stuck to the alcohol. As if it was the lesser of two evils. I would drink a small flask in my bunk, then sleep it off so the guys were none the wiser.

  By the time we got home, I’d tried to call Stella no less than seven thousand times. Every time, I got the “fuck you” button or it went immediately to voicemail.

  When she’d first found out about my problem and I’d gone to rehab, I’d been negative about our future because I was afraid she’d decide I wasn’t worth it. When she’d accepted me back and been willing to give me a second chance, I’d been so relieved and happy that I’d gotten complacent.

  Her leaving and telling me it was over was nearly enough to make me want to end it all. Initially, I went off the deep end. I’d gone back to more than the alcohol. I’d hold my shit together until after the show ended, and then I’d use anything I could get my hands on.

  “Logan, what the fuck are you doing to yourself?” Levi had asked me one night as he sat on the floor of the bus next to my bunk where I was stoned out of my fucking mind.

  My head had rolled in his direction in slow motion. It had taken me more than several seconds to focus on him. “Don’t really fuckin’ care.”

  “So what? You want me to replace you? Because that’s what it’s going to come to if you don’t pull your shit together. There’s only so many excuses the guys are going to want to accept. Hell, I’m your brother and I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. I can’t have you around Ian like this, man. Stella is gone, and this is why. So instead of fighting to clean yourself up so you can fight for her, you just what? Fuck your life down the drain? To be alone the rest of your life? If you even make it that long before you accidentally kill yourself? Goddammit, Logan, you’re my baby brother and I love you, but this is why she left you.” Even though my brain was fuzzy, I could tell he was pissed and worried. Despite the anger, his worry kept him there all night.

  Every so often I noticed his fingertips touching my neck or feeling over my face for my breath. By the time I sobered up, everything he’d said had been swimming in my head all night. Stella was gone because of my shitty choices. The choices I’d made instead of dealing with the shit in my head.

  Thinking about what he’d said, I realized not having her in my life was the most horrendous wake-up call I could’ve received. It was like I’d lost a limb or a vital organ. I was sick with missing her.

  That’s why when I got back to my apartment, I decided I was quitting. It wasn’t that I couldn’t live without her, it was that I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be that guy who hid every bad feeling behind alcohol or substances. I didn’t want that to be the only way I had to cope with anything that went wrong in my life.

  I wanted to live. I wanted to be a survivor like she was. A fighter.

  Locking myself in my apartment, I told myself I could quit on my own. I’d been through rehab often enough, I knew how to do it. Or so I thought.

  Three days after I’d had my last drink, I thought I was going to die.

  Every time I took a shower and changed my clothes, I soaked them in sweat within minutes.

  My fucking head was pounding like Elijah was playing Dominic’s drums inside it. Maybe it was the ticking of the fucking giant clock on my wall. Whose idea was it to put that there?

  “Shut up!” I screamed at it as it continued to tick-tick-tick at nearly deafening decibels. When it wouldn’t stop, I jerked it from the wall and threw it across the room, where it shattered.

  My hands covered my ears to block out the ringing from the crash.

  And goddamn, it was so fucking bright my eyes were on fire.

  Stumbling to the window, I closed the curtains with trembling hands. Even with them closed though, the light was still blinding.

  Getting some relief after dimming the interior lights, I dropped to the couch. Shaking so fucking bad, I could barely open the bottle of water on the coffee table, I ignored my phone as it rang with my brother’s ringtone.

  Fuck, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’d cancelled on the guys for the last several days, telling them I was sick. The truth was, I wasn’
t sure I could handle being with them as I sobered up. No, that was a lie. I knew for a damn fact I couldn’t be around anyone. Except I’d lost track of how many days it had actually been.

  Rivulets of sweat trailed down my face as I guzzled half of the bottle. Nausea had kept me from eating for the past day. Maybe longer?

  I’d debated on walking to the liquor store to get a few shot-sized bottles of Jack. Enough to take the edge off if I rationed them out. The cravings were turning my stomach inside out.

  Fuck, my whole body was turning itself inside out, and my skin was tight. Itchy and crawling.

  Desperate as fuck, I’d already checked the bottles in the trash that I’d poured down the drain after getting home and pulling them out of my bag. No shit, I’d held them up trying to catch even a drop of alcohol on my tongue.

  That’s when I knew I was fucked. Who did that shit? What kind of person was that desperate?

  When my hands began shaking so bad that I dropped the water bottle on the floor, I couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. My fucking heart was racing a hundred miles an hour, like it was going to explode. I swear to fucking Christ, I was sure I was dying.

  Telling myself maybe I’d feel better if I lay down and rested, I slumped to the side. Shaking so bad my teeth chattered, I knew I was hallucinating. Because kneeling by the couch was Lucas.

  “Logan. Come on, buddy, you gotta hang with me.” He came in and out of focus as my eyes rolled.

  “Lucas? I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t do it without you. I tried. Then she came along and I fell in love with her. I knew I shouldn’t because she deserved better. Except even having her wasn’t enough to make all the shit in my head go away. Wasn’t enough to deal with my special brand of fucked up. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the brother, son, friend, or husband I should’ve been. I really fucked up. Not much of a man, huh?” I wasn’t sure if the words actually came out of my mouth or if they’d only run through my head.

  “You need to call someone, buddy. Call Levi. Call her.” Blurring, he went fuzzy as he spoke. I was fucking losing it and I knew it.

  Trying to tell him again how sorry I was, only slurred sounds came from my mouth.

  “Logan!” Lucas was right in my face, yelling, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

  That was the last semi-lucid thing I remembered.

  There were snippets of yelling, my body being jostled, and then darkness. Sweet, dark, silent oblivion.

  “I Don’t Wanna Love Somebody Else”—A Great Big World

  I’d sobbed my eyes out as I raced to the tour bus to get the suitcase I’d dropped off only minutes earlier. I’d then taken an Uber to a hotel on the outskirts of town. It was a shithole of a place, but I didn’t want to be tracked down, so I picked a place where I could pay cash and check in without ID.

  The Uber driver had looked at me like I’d lost my mind when I’d asked him for that. I didn’t give half a fuck. He probably thought I’d killed someone. Once again, didn’t care.

  After checking in, I ripped the cover off the bed, checked that the sheets looked clean and unused, and curled into a ball. Crying until my entire body ached, I still couldn’t stop.

  Was he fucking her? Was he getting high? Would he finally OD like most addicts did? “Oh my God, why do I care?”

  “Because you love his dumb ass.” Christ, knowing I was talking to myself had me crying even harder.

  What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t go back to Boston, because Kinsley had already replaced me. I sure as shit didn’t want to go back to Seattle.

  Logan tried to call me several times that first night. I hit Ignore every time. Finally, I had to shut my phone off.

  I stayed in the hotel for the two nights I’d paid for, not eating, not leaving the room once. Finally, I showered, dressed, and checked out. When I left, I still had no idea where I was going.

  Deciding to get on a bus and ride until I was tired of riding was one of the craziest ideas I’d ever had. Well, next to marrying Logan on a whim in Vegas. But that’s exactly what I did.

  Stopping a couple of times to stay a night in a hotel on the way, I eventually got tired of staring out of the bus window.

  When I got off near Austin, Texas, I decided to stay for a while.

  The walk to a diner down the road was all it took to realize I didn’t want to stay long in that area of town though. It was confirmed by my waitress.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t mean to tell a woman her business, but you don’t look like you belong in these parts. And that suitcase you have as a dinner partner is probably going to get you the kind of attention you don’t want.” Looking up into the tired eyes of the woman who was taking my order, I fought the tears that threatened again.

  “I’ll be okay.” My voice was small and unsteady. “Are the burgers good?”

  Her bright pink lips curled. “If you like a thick, greasy, heart-attack-on-a-plate but delicious burger, then yeah.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Sitting in a daze, I jumped when someone sat across from me.

  “Well, hello darlin’ girl. What’s a pretty thing like you doing eating alone?” The guy didn’t look quite homeless, but he was scary as hell. Hands shaking, I questioned the sanity of stopping there.

  “She’s not. Get the hell out of my seat.” Raising my eyes to a man who looked both as hot as Hades but also as scary as he was hot, I wasn’t sure which was a better option. The guy had a thick beard, shaved sides of his head, hair longer on top, tattoos that ran down both arms, and a leather vest that I recognized as the kind a biker would wear. His eyes were brilliant blue, and though he seemed slightly terrifying, those eyes of his were kind.

  “Hell, I didn’t know she was with you, Styx.” The scruffy guy huffed and got up, leaving as quickly as he’d sat down.

  The biker guy, Styx, slid into the bench that the other guy had vacated.

  “I’m married,” I blurted. Then closed my eyes, feeling like an idiot when his deep chuckle carried over the table. Also, I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d actually be married, and that devastated me.

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not looking for a relationship, huh? My sister thought you could use a little protection.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the waitress who had taken my order. She gave a little wave with a grin.

  Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. “Well, that was nice of her, but I’m just fine.”

  Hiding a smirk, he raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh? So I should let Ralph have his seat back?”

  “No! I mean….” I sighed. “You can sit there.” Defeat slumped my shoulders.

  “So I’m taking a wild shot in the dark that you’re not from around here.” He looked up at his sister as she set a glass of tea in front of him. “Thanks, sis. Did you put in my usual?”

  “Duh. Of course.” Rolling her eyes, she sauntered off.

  “What brings you to central Texas?” Placing both elbows on the table, he leaned in, waiting for my answer. I wondered how he knew I wasn’t from there. Hell, maybe my suitcase was because I’d recently returned home from vacation.

  “It’s a long story that I don’t feel like getting into because I don’t know you.” Pursing my lips to the side, I gave him what I hoped was a droll look, because he honestly still scared me a little. I didn’t want him knowing that, though.

  Shrugging, he took a big swig of his tea. “Suit yourself. Sometimes it’s good to share your troubles with someone who doesn’t know anything about you. You know, so you can get an unbiased opinion. Just sayin’ is all.”

  “Are you going to let me eat in peace if I refuse?” My arms crossed defensively over my chest as I glowered at him. The thing was, despite how scary he looked, he was also cute, and something about him seemed trustworthy.

  He simply stared at me.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I huffed a frustrated breath out. “How about you tell me why you’re in a biker gang, and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” It was my turn to smirk.

&
nbsp; Then it was his turn to narrow his eyes at me. “First off, it’s not a ‘gang.’” I couldn’t help but laugh as the big burly biker across from me made air quotes. “Second off, because they’re my family.”

  “A family like the mafia? You just collect money from your illicit endeavors so you can ride around on your motorcycle all day wearing your badass little vest?” My hands made a fluttering motion toward his black leather vest.

  The rich laughter that rolled out of him inexplicably made me smile. I was miserable, and I shouldn’t want to smile, but I couldn’t help it.

  “No. I don’t know what kind of shit you’ve been watching, but all the guys in my club,” he raised his eyebrow again and put and emphasis on club, “have actual jobs. I’m a trauma nurse. I’ve been out of town on leave and I just got back this morning. So I’m still off work until tomorrow. Now why are you here? Because it was that accent that told me you aren’t from here.”

  “Accent? I don’t have an accent!” The audacity of this man was baffling. He only snorted at my affront. “And wait. You? You’re a nurse?”

  “Why the hell do people have such an issue with guys being nurses these days?” His expression was one of exasperated disgust.

  “Actually, it wasn’t that you were a guy and a nurse, but that you look too mean. And tatted up. And you have your nose pierced. You don’t look much like a nurse.” Again, my eyes narrowed.

  “Well, I am. Sorry to shock your delicate sensibilities.” I laughed at his faked snobby accent. “Now. Your turn.”

  Deciding it didn’t matter since I’d never see this guy again, I sighed and fought the tears that welled in my eyes. Which really pissed me off, because I’d thought I was all cried out by then.

  “Maybe because I’m stupid? I fell in love with an addict, but I didn’t know he was an addict when I fell in love with him. Impulsively, we married. Then I found out about his problem. Thought he would clean up and change for me; he didn’t. I tried to surprise him at his concert in Alabama, but the surprise was on me. I caught him, drunk, possibly high, and with some chick. I left. End of story.” Sniffling as quietly as I could, I dropped my gaze to my lap.