Annoying Pest...

by K. S. Adkins

  “I’m not trying—”

  “You want me with someone else?”

  “No,” she growled. “But you stayed away thinking I was with Guy, because you thought he could make me happier than you did. You managed that. I’m just saying if there’s a chance she’s out there—”

  “I am fucking looking at her,” I roared and the sound carried through the garage. “You love me, I love you, got it? There is no other woman, will never be another woman. No other fucking man either. This is it, Pest. You, me, a goddamn team, ‘til death do us part. You following this?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think so?”

  “Maybe you could, I don’t know… show me with your hands and mouth?”

  “Right here in this garage?”

  “No time like the present,” she smiled, challenging me.

  “Bent over my bike?”

  “I didn’t wear any underwear; you’re welcome.”

  “Outside, like we used to?”

  “If you’d shut up you’d be inside—”

  Pulling her up, I tossed the helmet and wrapped my body around hers. Oh yeah, the old Tempest was still in there just like I was about to be.

  

  Now I understood why he had been looking at me differently. Because somewhere along the way he’d finally seen me. This revelation didn’t shock me. I suppose because it was us. And eventually we always worked things out.

  Also when you love someone, you have to pick and choose your battles. Chevy always tried more than he failed, so I didn’t resent his impatience with me. I was just as frustrated as he was. Just at myself.

  I wanted to be normal person. For him, for me, and for Guy. So I pushed and pushed myself further into a business, a lifestyle, that didn’t suit me. I convinced myself I had to do this for us; we’d all worked so hard for it.

  Dealing with anxiety was part of the package, a facet of the business I thought I could deal with for a while. Until a while turned into nightmare I couldn’t seem to wake from. Fame for some was a drug. Making them feel euphoric, invincible and entitled. Fame for me was poison. Making me feel uncertain, scared, and isolated.

  There was always this loneliness I felt knowing no one around me understood my fears or how they manifested. Chevy used to do his best to save me from that. Looking back, I shouldn’t have expected him to save me from everything. I should have been strong enough to step up and save myself.

  But then he left, which meant my safety net was gone, and my loneliness morphed into something I still have no name for. I allowed that. Chevy wasn’t responsible for the way I handled it. Because I didn’t handle it at all and that’s the problem.

  Little by little though, I realized I was making strides. While I seemed shocked by it, he did not. For the first time in years, he was looking at me with something more than love. It was understanding, as if he knew.

  Trusting Chevy with my heart again was a big risk. But I knew he was worth the investment. Either it paid off or it didn’t. And however it turned out, I can say that I gave him everything I was. Everything I had in me to be.

  “Palms down on the seat, Pest.”

  Doing as he said, he slid my jeans to my ankles. When he saw I wasn’t kidding about being bare, he groaned. Smiling over my shoulder, he ran his hand over my ass and said, “Do not move,” before he spanked me incredibly hard. The contact and my moan floated throughout the garage on an echo.

  Sliding inside of me, he anchored his hands on my hips and wasted no time thrusting up hard., Bracing myself, I pushed back against him which earns me another slap. Doing it again and again, the only sound to be heard was skin against skin, the clap from the contact, and our moans.

  “Harder,” I begged him and he gave it to me.

  Gripping the seat, I could hardly take the pressure building until it found its escape. It was loud, long, and liquid. God, I loved being fucked in public. He never slowed, he was focused and giving me what I needed. When I came it was nuclear. Nearly boneless, he put his forearm around my waist to hold me up and said, “I love you, Pest.”

  Without hesitation the words left my mouth and I meant them with everything I was. “I love you, Chevy.”

  Coming hard, he continued to pound into me until he was empty. Bringing me into his chest, he kissed me softly and whispered, “We needed that.”

  “We did,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around him.

  “I’m only human, Pest, but I’ll always pick you up when you fall apart.”

  Gasping at his declaration, I started to say, “You were there—” only we were interrupted.

  “Chevy Thomas James, you have the right to remain silent…”

  “Oh my God,” I cried into his chest. Not now, Jesus not now.

  Quickly pulling my pants up for me and keeping me behind his back he tucks himself in to face the police.

  Not caring of our current position, they continued to read him his rights and explain to him that he was being arrested for the beating he gave Rick Carol.

  Chevy had a list of priors. Rick, the bastard, knew it and used it. But it was when he caught one of policemen filming me that it all went from mildly embarrassing to extremely violent.

  Lunging forward with his pants still undone, Chevy hit the cop sending him to the floor. The others attacked him as a group. Screaming for them to stop hurting him went unheard. Screaming for Chevy to stop fighting back was ignored too. I ran to the cop that was down, kicked him in the gut then snagged his phone from the floor stuffing it in my pocket. Fishing my own phone out with shaky hands, I dialed Guy. When he answered, I was too busy crying to say anything but, “Help Chevy.”

  Using the man’s phone in my pocket, I turned on his camera and resumed filming. When they finally had a hold of Chevy, he was taken down hard. They cuffed him forcefully. Then the officer he hit, got to his feet, took it a step further and tased him, twice. Crying in earnest, I continued to film. The police were so focused on Chevy, they forgot I was even standing there.

  “Chevy,” I said reaching for him.

  “Ma’am, step back,” I was ordered.

  “Pest,” he choked out. “Get to the hotel.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Go!”

  Startled at the fury in his voice, I grabbed the keys from his bike, turned and ran back to the elevator, heading straight back to my room.

  Guy called again and I told him the cops had him. He let me know a car was being sent for me. But prior to that, I had one more thing I needed to do before I got him out. I needed a favor. I was calling Jules. If anyone could help Chevy, it was her. How I knew that I wasn’t sure, but I went with it.

  “Yo,” she said on the first ring.

  “If you help me, I’ll triple my donation to Second Chances.”

  The charity I was donating to was ran by a man named Rio Martin and his wife Bet Lennox. I heard about it from Chevy a while back and loved what it stood for. What they did for the community was amazing and when I booked my final shows I wanted Lush to be my last stop.

  “I’m all ears, doll face.”

  “Chevy and I were in the parking garage when the cops came to arrest him on a bogus charge. He saw one filming me and went after him. He was beaten and then tased, twice. When we hang up, I’m sending you three videos. I want the first sent to a Richard L. Carol with a warning to drop the charges against Chevy, or I’ll go public with his threats to harm me and my career.

  “The second is from the cop’s phone. It’s the footage of him filming me. The last is also from the cop’s phone, but it’s of what they did to Chevy. I want the first and last videos broadcasted everywhere if these fuckers don’t listen. Everywhere, Jules. I want Rick and the DPD held responsible. I need him out yesterday.”

  “Answer me this, why was the cop filming you?”

  “Because I was just fucked on his motorcycle in the parking garage of my hotel. They watched us, Jules. A video like that in the wrong hands would ensure that cop an
early retirement.”

  “Oh look,” she laughed. “It’s four-thirty. Just in time for the five o’clock news! I’m on it, wonder lungs.”

  “Thank God.” Then my room phone rang, letting me know that my driver was here.

  

  How she got me out I’ll never know.

  Because, I did beat Rick.

  I also hit a cop.

  Tried hitting the rest of ‘em, too.

  But I was out, sitting on a bench while Guy talked to our attorney. He’s represented us since he got out of law school; he was good. I always wondered if he had a thing for Tempest, or if he enjoyed the challenge of keeping me out of prison.

  Regardless of how good he was an attorney’s reach only went so far when you had a rap sheet like mine. Assault on a private citizen was one thing. Assault on cop was another.

  Guy said she was on her way, but I didn’t want her to ever have a reason to walk back into a police station. She wouldn’t be upset. If anything, she’d be worried until she saw I was okay. This had me wondering if she was okay. If she was panicking and didn’t have me there to help her. Again, my fault. The cycle continues… I was such a fuck up.

  “I know that look,” he said, sitting next to me. “Don’t fucking do it, Chevy.”

  “She’s better off without me.”

  “Let her be the judge of that.”

  “She’s getting better,” I told him. “She’ll do fine when I’m gone.”

  “You’ve always loved speaking on her behalf. So my next question is, when you do plan to bolt?”

  “After her final show,” I said rubbing the sore spots on my wrists. “I won’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”

  “Dammit, Chevy.”

  “Take care of her,” I said, standing up. Because Tempest was pushing the doors open and behind her was a sea of paparazzi. Only this time they weren’t crucifying her. They had her back.

  “Promise me, brother.”

  Guy nodded. Running full tilt, Tempest flew into my open arms and wailed into my chest.

  The next several minutes consisted of the DPD trying to handle the crowd. A cop telling me the charges, all the charges against me, were dropped with Tempest holding onto me for dear life.

  Finally able to leave, the driver took us back to the hotel where I made love to my girl until the sun lit up the room.

  Dozing on my chest she whispered, “Don’t leave me, Chevy,” before she fell asleep.

  Hours later when she woke, the day was spent at rehearsal followed by a quick meal before she had to get ready.

  Immediately, Tempest took to Jules and the staff like she’s known them for years. No anxiety or needing me to calm her.

  Just Tempest doing what she loved.

  Her show started at eight.

  It was six forty-five.

  With everyone doing their job, Tempest pulled me into the locker room, saying she wanted to talk. I told myself if she was dumping me, this time, I’d let her. “Hi,” she said, running her hands over my stomach.

  “Hi.”

  “Don’t shut me out,” she said, resting her head against my chest. “Please don’t, Chevy.”

  “I just have a lot on my mind, Pest,” I lied. “Tonight is huge. I wanna make sure you’re covered.”

  “You’re better than any superhero, you know that?”

  “Even better than Thor?” I asked, raising a brow. Pest loved Thor, or rather the actor who played him.

  “Duh,” she said, kissing my chest. “I have to do hair and makeup; can you send Tiffany in when she comes? I want to do hers, too.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Hey, Chevy?” she asked, tipping her head up.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Tempest.”

  Giving me a sad smile, she whispered, “Tempest,” and I wanted to come clean about where my head was at, but I didn’t. Seeing I wasn’t going to spill, she grabbed her makeup and hair shit then heads over to the table to set up.

  I wanted to stay and watch her one last time. At the very least, give her the reassurance she needed, but I couldn’t. Leaving her to it, I put a big motherfucker named Bishop at her door so I could go wait for Tiffany.

  When Jules approached, she extended her hand. “Saw the video,” she grinned evilly. “Twice. I could use muscle like yours.”

  “What video?”

  “Oops,” she giggled. “Was that a secret? Tempest didn’t tell me to put it in the vault, so I assumed I could gossip.”

  “What video?”

  “The one of you getting spanked by the po-po. Girls get it, we’re a vengeful breed. Anyway, my friend Macy almost peed when you got zapped. It’s her most favorite hobby. Tempest called in a favor, I made it happen. She made me a deal I couldn’t refuse. So I made a few calls, easy. See? We all win!”

  And then she literally skipped off with red hair bouncing all around her. Not knowing what the fuck to make of that female, or the video bullshit she spoke of, I spot Tiffany and her mom and escorted them back.

  I tried calling Guy to see if he knew what the hell she was talking about, but it went to voicemail.

  The doors would open at seven-thirty. The line was already down the block. The pulse of this place was electric. These people wanted inside. They wanted Tempest. It was freaking me the fuck out. For the first time ever, I was putting her safety in someone else’s hands.

  To make matter worse, she announced she was doing something different. Tempest was not big on change. Avoided it at all costs. This meant I wasn’t feeling something different. Especially when she decided not to tell me what it was.

  Let it be known, I didn’t like this. I didn’t like how anxious any of this was making me feel. So fifteen minutes later when the lights went down, and the place went nuts, I made my way to her door to relieve Bishop and escort her and Tiffany out. With her focus on Tiffany, who was terrified, Tempest was able to control her own anxiety. None of this did shit for mine.

  “Pest,” I whispered in her ear. “The fucking orchestra and singers aren’t on stage.”

  “Trust me,” she said, kissing me softly. Then looking at Tiffany, she said, “Let’s rock.”

  Taking her hand, they both found their spots on the stage and waited for the curtain to roll up. Just like that, she strutted onto that fucking stage without so much as a hitch in her step.

  Suddenly I heard music, loud fucking music. It was everywhere but I couldn’t place the source. Followed by voices, dozens of them. Running to the edge and looking out into the crowd, I saw the musicians set up throughout the bar and the choir mingled in with the crowd.

  Fuck me…Talk about a live show.

  When Pest wailed Detroit from her place behind the curtain, the place went insane at the sound of her powerful voice. Giving their cheers time to calm, she adjusted her mic and whispered, “Shh.”

  With a quiet room, slowly and softly, two violins began to play. The sounds blended yet didn’t. Personally, I’d never heard anything like it.

  When the curtain opened, everyone in attendance gasped when they saw Tempest. She wasn’t facing the crowd yet. Instead she had her eyes on Tiffany’s, whose remained closed while she played.

  Not missing a beat, she turned, let out her first note, and the crowd swayed where they stood. They were entranced, a look I knew all too well. A look I’d fucking miss every day for the rest of my life. Softly her voice carried along with Tiffany’s trailing behind. Another surprise was not opening to Queen.

  Tonight, Tempest chose Jason Wade’s You Belong to Me.

  Strumming her guitar while watching me in the crowd, she whispered, “Send me photographs and souvenirs, just remember when a dream appears, you belong to me.“

  With sadness and finality in her eyes, she continued to play for me. She felt it. She knew and she was letting me go. Standing there surrounded by strangers, I’d never felt so alone in my life.

  Finishing the song, she swapped out
her guitar as the musicians began to play. Sound encompassed the entire building.

  The choir built up aria La Donne e Mobile perfectly. Tempest loved that it was about ‘unstable women’, but this is the first time she’s ever added it to her set. This song was a bitch to perform. As the choir hit their pitch the lights flashed, instruments flared, and when Tempest tore the cape from her shoulders, pulled her guitar around and started to wail, I was transported.

  For two straight hours she played the hardest she ever has.

  No breaks were taken, choosing to interact with the crowd instead. She thanked them for supporting her, waved to familiar faces and introduced the prodigy known as Tiffany. Who, by the way, did not panic. She fucking smiled the entire time. She also performed a violin solo of Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters. And no bullshit, she crushed it.

  When the vibe changed, signaling the end, I wiped my eyes. When Tempest’s guitar strummed the first chords and the crowd caught it, their screams bordered on painful.

  This was it for us. The last time she’d play live.

  The last time she’d play this song for me.

  Yeah, painful.

  Running up the steps, I snagged the bass she kept out in case I need it. Throwing the strap over my shoulder, I met her on stage, taking my place beside her. The crowd chanted our names, rooting for us once more. But it was the look of adoration on my girl’s face I paid attention to. A look reserved just for me.

  I’d cherish it always.

  Playing side-by-side with Tempest singing to me, I strummed the chords exactly as she taught me. I played hard, pouring my love and my apologies into it. With no additional instruments to blend with her voice, she took my hand and placing it over her heart as the song dedicated to me comes to a close.

  Carbon steel, titanium

  A lever, a pry

  Broke me of my cage, dared me to fly

  My knight in battle, armor of my heart

  A King in my eyes, the end to my start

  Never to be separated, a breath away is too far

  My champion, my crowbar

  She let the last note carry. She did not turn to the crowd. Instead, she reached forward, palming my face and said, “Chevy James everybody, the love of my whole life.” Never once taking her eyes from mine.