my life as a rock album

by LJ Evans

  “And then you showed up in her life…” and this time when he kicked at me again, it was his second fucking mistake. I grabbed his leg and pulled it out from under him before he could even react. His head slammed down on the concrete floor of my studio, and his gun flew from his hand.

  That’s all it took for me to be on top of him, choking him. He was strong. I had to give him that. He worked out at the gym with you, and you all knew how to build sinewy muscles, but I was full of rage.

  Rage at what he’d done to you. Rage at what he’d done to my fucking studio. Rage at my fucking asshole father and all the times he’d battered me and my mom. Rage that you had run away. Just fucking rage.

  And that rage came out as I smashed his face repeatedly, over and over again with my fist, feeling bones smash and skin break and blood ooze underneath my hand.

  Do you know why I didn’t kill him? Do you know why he ended up passed out, tied up, and then in an ambulance instead of in the back of a coroner’s van?

  Because of you.

  Because once he’d been knocked unconscious by my fists, and the blood had splattered him and me and the floor of my studio, I saw next to us the twisted metal shape that I had made of you and I. The knots forming a single unit. The twists and curves as if it we were one piece when I knew for a fucking fact that it was two because I’d made it.

  And I knew as long as we were both free and alive that I had a chance to make us work. But if I was in jail and you flew away, it would be over. I didn’t want to end up behind bars. I didn’t want to be my father.

  So I lifted myself off of him and stepped away. Because of you. You were still saving me from myself.

  The doorbell rang, followed by Locke’s voice. I hollered, “In the studio.”

  And that’s how Locke found me. With Michael passed out in a bloody heap while my studio and your art were destroyed.

  “What the—?” Locke was on the phone to 911 before he even finished his own expletive.

  And you know what happened.

  The cops came. They took my statement. They took pictures. They took the shithead to the hospital, and I sat through what felt like another twenty hours of questions.

  My answers were the same no matter how many times they asked. I’d learned that in my childhood. You never change your answers once you start. You keep them short and sweet and to the point. If you can tell the truth, all the better, but if you can’t, you just keep saying the same thing.

  I thank my abuela’s God that I didn’t have to lie. That I could tell the truth. That I could stand there before all those people judging me with the blood on my hands and not have to make something up. He broke in. He destroyed my studio. He threatened you. He threatened me. He fought back. I ended it. Nothing more to tell.

  Finally, Locke interrupted. I honestly had forgotten that he was even there. But I’m glad he was. He told them that I needed to go get checked out at the hospital as well because my head was still bleeding. And my hands.

  But none of that hurt. What hurt was what they couldn’t see.

  What hurt was that you weren’t there.

  The investigators weren’t happy about it, but they let me go while they scoured our home and my studio. While they took pictures and spread crime scene chemicals around that would never go away. That would always be a part of our home.

  Locke took me in his car, and if I’d been exhausted before, I was beyond anything I’d ever felt now. I fell asleep on the way to the hospital, but Locke’s voice brought me back.

  “You didn’t kill him,” Locke said.

  I just turned my eyes to stare at him.

  “He deserved it, but I’m glad you didn’t,” he said gruffly.

  I wasn’t sure I was glad. It was more like I knew it was the right thing. The right thing to keep my butt out of jail. The thing that might mean I could hold you in my arms again, praying that I was a better man than when you found me. While I prayed that you’d take me back. That you’d come home.

  It’s been a long wait.

  We All Fall Down

  PJ After Letter Ten

  “Why’d your dreams fall apart at the seams?”

  -Bon Jovi & Shanks

  SETH’S LETTERS ARE GETTING harder to read. Maybe because the damage in them is no longer caused by unseen people in his past. Maybe because the damage in them is damage she caused… Is causing. It’s a guilty burden. Seth, who had initially seemed like a rock that couldn’t be carved into pieces, had actually been carved apart before she’d ever met him and was now being carved up again, this time by her.

  And in truth, she’d known that when she walked away, she’d be adding to his damage. But all she’d been able to do was concentrate on healing herself. She’d known enough then to know she wasn’t ready for him. For them. She had to find a way to fix her own shattered pieces first.

  It’s why she had gone to Justice’s from the hospital. To heal both physically and mentally without Seth being the glue or the gold holding her together. She had to be her own glue.

  * * *

  That afternoon after they’d taken her to their house, Liv had found her at the kitchen table, staring into the backyard with a cup of tea in her hands. Trying to let the numbness settle back over her. Because it was then that she realized she’d been going through life numb before she’d met Seth. And he’d made her feel. And all she wanted was to be numb again for just a little while. Just long enough to feel like she wouldn’t completely crumble.

  “PJ, talk to me,” Liv said.

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m sure it’s not. You’ve been through a lot the last forty-eight hours.”

  “I feel like all my mistakes have caught up to me,” she trembled.

  “What happened today was not your fault.”

  “Maybe it was.”

  “No.”

  “I think he’s one of the guys from high school.”

  When Liv didn’t say anything, PJ knew that Justice must have told her the story.

  “That doesn’t make this your fault. If anything, it makes it even less so,” Liv said, reaching across the table and squeezing her good hand.

  They sat quietly while her mind went from Michael to high school to how screwed up she really was and then back to Seth.

  “Seth loves me, Liv. I know he does and yet all I can think about is all the ways I don’t deserve him.”

  “Nobody deserves another person, PJ. You can’t earn someone like a merit badge. All you can do is love one another, and if you do, that should be enough. If you truly love each other, mistakes and all, then you get to help each other be the best version of yourselves that you can be. You build each other up.”

  PJ heard her. She did. And the truth was, it was more than just feeling like she didn’t deserve him. It was also like he was more than she could handle. She didn’t know how to explain that to Liv, but she tried.

  “When I’m with him, there isn’t anything but Seth. It isn’t his fault. It’s like he’s this big, dynamic star that’s just forming, and it’s pulling all the surrounding dust and particles into its gravitational force until there’s nothing left of the bits, instead, they are all part of the star. I don’t want to disappear.”

  “Maybe the star is both of you. Pieces of both of you being built together.”

  PJ liked the idea of that. That maybe they were building a new galaxy together. But she wasn’t sure if that was really the case when most days she felt like Seth was the only thing allowing her to stand.

  “We’ve all made mistakes, Peej. Horrible ones in our lives. Ones that have impacted others and marked our souls. That doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. You don’t have to do penance for those mistakes forever. And as much as Seth seems rough around the edges, I truly believe he loves you with all his heart. That you could be happy together.”

  “She’s right,” Justice said, coming in and sitting down at the table with them. “My biggest wish for you.” He stopped, face full of emotio
ns, as he tried to get himself back under control. “No, Mom and Dad’s biggest wish for you would have been for you to be happy.”

  Tears flooded PJ’s eyes at the mention of their parents who she knew would not have been proud of the life she’d lived.

  “They would have understood, kiddo,” he continued as if he’d read her face and known what she was thinking.

  He pulled something from his pocket and pushed a paper towards her.

  “What’s that?” PJ asked.

  “Your half of Mom and Dad’s insurance money.”

  PJ pushed it back towards him. “I don’t want that. We already spent that money.”

  Justice nodded. “I spent that money. I bought a house and started the gym. I used it to get my life on track, and now I want you to use it to get your life on track. Whatever that means to you. However it will make you happy.”

  “You fed me, clothed me, and housed me. You helped pay for school. I’ve long spent my share.”

  “No. And to be fair, I didn’t really see it like I do now. Liv helped me, and she’s right. I thought I bought the house and the gym for both of us. And it still is. You’re welcome in both our home and our gym any time. You’re family. It will always be a place you can come home to. I mean that S&M. But, I also want you to be able to figure out what it is you want for yourself in this life. You only get one, Peej. One life. You should make everything out of it that you can. It might be hard work, but you’ll make a success out of whatever it is you choose because you’re a fighter. Because you’re a Hensley, and Hensleys are fighters.”

  PJ stared at him, tears falling that she pushed away as they fell. “I can’t take it.”

  “It’s already in your account.”

  They stared at each other, and then she got up and came around the table and hugged him and he hugged her back.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t. It was your money all along.”

  PJ turned to Liv and hugged her as well.

  “Are you going to go to New York?” Justice asked.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Probably.”

  “If that’s what you really want, then we’ll be happy for you,” Liv said with a watery smile.

  * * *

  Later that night they got the call from Locke. Liv came in breathless, placing her phone in PJ’s hands.

  “Hello?”

  “PJ?”

  “Hey, Locke.”

  “I’m with Seth at the hospital,” he said and her heart had fallen to her stomach. It disappeared somewhere into a pit of seething acid. Thoughts of Seth and what he might have done to himself swirling. Tortured thoughts.

  “W-what?”

  “Michael broke into the house, destroyed the studio, and Seth walked in.”

  Her heart filled with a million thoughts but the one that settled in was fear. Fear for Seth. That Michel had been in his house.

  “Oh my God!”

  “He’s okay. Just needs some stitches to the back of his head, but I’m sure they’ll want to keep him.”

  And they both knew he wouldn’t stay. Not without a reason.

  “I’m on my way,” she said.

  And on the way there, with Justice driving her, she worried that he’d killed Michael. That he’d have this hanging over him now because she hadn’t even asked Locke about Michael. It had only been about Seth. Because Seth was the only thing she could ever focus on.

  Locke met them at the ER door. His face was gray. Tired. They were all tired.

  “Where’s Michael?” It was Justice who finally asked the question.

  “He’s here, in custody.”

  Relief filled PJ. Not because she cared even a little if Michael was alive or not. She only cared about the repercussions to Seth if he’d killed him.

  “He’s lucky I didn’t find him,” Justice choked out in anger.

  And it made PJ pause. In her mind, she’d been so hard on Seth because he wanted to kill Michael, and yet Justice was the same. Didn’t she herself want to kill Michael for what he was putting Seth through? Maybe it was all just part of loving someone.

  “Well, he’s gonna need some surgery on his face,” Locke said with a pleased smile.

  “Where’s Seth?” PJ asked.

  And when he told her, she ran to him.

  She found him sitting on the edge of the bed in a hospital gown that looked ridiculous on him. Its opening at the rear showing off all the sculpted contours of his back as well as his scarred side.

  There was a nurse with him who was trying to give him some kind of shot and trying to get him to lie down. He was grousing and grumbling. On the outside, to someone who didn’t know him, to the nurse trying to stick him, it seemed like he was being an asshole. The biggest dick in the world. But PJ knew better. She knew because they were the same.

  He didn’t think he deserved to be taken care of.

  “Just let the woman do her job, Seth,” PJ said setting her bag down on the bed.

  He reached for her, and she let herself be gathered in between his legs, pulled tight against his chest. And they held each other for a moment before she moved to the side, still tucked up against him but allowing the nurse to do her job. And the nurse smiled with relief as he sat still for the shot.

  “It’s going to make me fucking groggy,” Seth grumbled.

  “Maybe you’ll actually sleep then.”

  They were quiet while the nurse finished up and left. They were quiet while they held each other, her face pushed against his chest, him kissing the top of her head.

  “I’m so sorry,” PJ breathed out and squeezed him tighter.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Seth said quietly. So quietly that it was like he was surprised he could say it himself.

  “I’m glad,” PJ said, pulling his bruised and taped up fingers into her own.

  “Maybe I should have.”

  “The courts will take care of him,” she said back, and Seth laughed a brutal, cruel laugh.

  “Like they took care of my dad?”

  Her heart turned in her chest. She gently touched his wounded hand and tucked herself up closer to him.

  “I thought I lost you,” his chest rumbled with the emotions he felt and so rarely spoke.

  “You haven’t lost me. I love you. With all my heart.”

  “But you’re still leaving.”

  And she didn’t know how to respond to that because she was. Finally, she breathed out, “Not tonight.”

  And she pulled him down onto the hospital bed and twined her legs with his so that he would rest. So that they would both rest. And, strangely, even with the typical hospital noise and the lights and the sickly bleach smell, they both slept. Deeply. Together.

  * * *

  The next day, some guy from the prosecutor’s office visited them in the hospital before Seth was released. PJ sat through his statement. The statement he’d already given, but was being forced to give again. And he did so with more patience than she would have expected.

  When Seth got to the part about Michael saying he’d known PJ in high school, he hesitated. But she just prodded him on. It was what she’d already known in her heart after Tate’s comments at the hospital.

  The prosecutor asked PJ a couple questions about high school. She turned a thousand shades of red and gave an abbreviated version of her being passed around. Seth held her tight, kissed her neck, and made her feel loved and special regardless of her past.

  The prosecutor started to pack up and turned to Seth. “Thanks for your patience. Sorry about yesterday. I think we can safely say this puts that to rest.”

  Seth nodded.

  “What was that about?” she asked when they were alone.

  “He tried to arrest me yesterday.”

  “What?”

  Seth shrugged. “Michael filed his assault charge.”

  And PJ suddenly wanted to find Michael in the hospital and add her own set of marks to his face.

  “Tate and Williams intervened,” Seth told her.r />
  And she was filled with guilt once more. As she often was with Seth. Guilt that she hadn’t been there when they’d tried to arrest him. Guilt that he was having to go through any of this because of her. Guilt that Michael was one of the guys from high school. Guilt because if she’d never gone to Seth’s house that first day after The Green Room, he wouldn’t be here. Busted up. Dealing with cops. Dealing with nonsense he hadn’t had to deal with since his mom.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said again, tears choking her throat.

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, kissing her palm.

  “But this is all my fault.”

  “No. It’s Michael’s.”

  “But I’m the one that dragged you into my life.”

  “I think it’s really the other way around,” he said with the first smirk she’d seen on him in several days.

  They were quiet once more.

  “I think I was meant to be here. To protect you. I couldn’t protect my mom. But, maybe all the shit before is what made me who I am now just for this moment. To be able to be here for you. To keep him from hurting you more.”

  Both the beauty and the horror of that thought made her crazy. The idea that the universe had hurt and battered and tortured Seth so that he could be the man he was for her. That thought filled her with sadness and more guilt. It made her feel again, that no matter what Liv said, she didn’t deserve this man.

  And that had pushed her to leave even more. Even though she’d already known she was going.

  * * *

  PJ picks up the tenth letter she’s received from him. And she remembers his words and remembers how it had made her feel even more undeserving. But now, now she wonders if that was really what she should have taken from that heart-breaking statement he’d made. Instead, maybe she should have realized that if the whole universe was working so hard to make sure Seth was ready for her, that maybe it had been working just as hard to make sure she was ready for him. That maybe she’d been placed in his life to give him the one thing he’d never really been given by anyone besides his grandparents. Maybe she was supposed to give him unconditional love.

  Instead, she flew to New York. And now she’s ignored his pleas to come home. And while she’s been able to find herself a little, and forgive herself, she’s still not whole. Just like he isn’t whole. Instead, they are both missing pieces that they need in order to become that stunning shattered plate with all its wreckage outlined in gold. And she wonders now if she’s ever going to be able to fix it.