TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION)

by M. J. Schiller

  “I know. Me, too.” She laid her head on his shoulder for a moment, again absorbed in thought. After a while, she shook herself. “Chad, would you mind if I took a shower? I feel all grubby.”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll probably hop in after you.”

  A half hour later, Beth left the bathroom feeling refreshed. Chad lay sleeping on the bed, his shoes still on. She slipped his shoes off so he could be more comfortable. She would be leaving in a few hours, so she quietly packed her things. She took her duffle bag and grabbed her laptop and headed out to the living area. Being alone, in peace, Beth was able to crank out a large part of a chapter of her next book. When the bus came to a stop outside of the Izod Center, where they were to play the next night, Chad woke up and came into the kitchen stretching.

  “Working on your book?”

  “Um-hum.”

  Just then, Roger stumbled out of the front bedroom, dropping a bottle in the doorway and leaving it there.

  “Wh-what are ya doin’ there, Bethy?”

  “She’s working on her next novel,” Chad answered, retrieving the bottle of rum and holding it up with a surprised expression on his face to show her. It was completely empty.

  Beth exchanged a worried look with Chad. Roger flopped onto the couch next to her. “What kinda novel?”

  “Oh, just a trashy romance novel.”

  Roger raised his eyebrows comically. “Ahhh.”

  Chad came around and sat down on the other side of Beth. “I wouldn’t say they were trashy.” Something in the way he said it caused her to look at him.

  “You’ve read my novels?”

  “Just the first two, I’m halfway through the third. They’re great.”

  “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you read them.” She sat up straighter. “I’m kind of embarrassed.”

  “There’s no need to be,” he responded, surprised. “I mean it. I really liked them. They’re funny, but moving, full of action...”

  “But it’s nothing like what you do. The music you make, the lyrics you write.”

  “I disagree. They’re just different mediums. We both write about people, and passions... It’s actually very similar. That’s why you like my music. It tells a story.”

  “And there’s the fact she’s hot for you,” Roger interjected.

  She laughed, squeezing Chad’s thigh. “Yeah. There’s that.”

  Roger reached up and felt her hair. He examined it drunkenly. “Your hair’s wet. You took a shower. You look good wet.”

  “Uh…thank you.” He began to slouch against her and she pushed him up so he sat straighter. She turned to Chad and whispered, “We need coffee.”

  “And water or he’ll have one hell of a headache.”

  “You speak as if from experience.”

  He only smiled in reply.

  “There are some water bottles in the fridge.”

  “But we’re out of coffee. I checked earlier. I’ll go get some from one of the other buses. You want me to ask Pete to come in here?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. You’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay,” he said, and left.

  Beth began packing up her laptop while talking to her friend. “Okay, it’s just you and me now, Roger. I’m going to get you some water if you can sit up here by yourself.”

  “Of course, I can, B-hiccup-Beth. I’m not drunk.” He did remove his weight from her, but his head wobbled back and forth as if it might roll off his shoulders and he had a goofy smile plastered on his face.

  “Yeah. You’re not drunk. Right.” She set her laptop on the seat by the door with her bag, safely out of harm’s way. Then, she got a bottle of water. Returning, she slid back onto the couch next to him. “Here you go. Drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

  “But I feel great,” he countered, smiling even wider.

  She handed the bottle to him. “You won’t tomorrow if you don’t drink this.”

  “Okay, Bethy. Anything for you. You know, you’re a nice girl. Chad doesn’t deserve you, you know? He can be a real asshole.”

  “Can’t we all,” she replied, encouraging him to take another drink of water.

  “Ain’t that the truth?” He laughed, and then became serious. “I mean it, Beth.” He reached up to touch her hair. “You’re really beautiful.”

  “Uh, Roger…what are you doing?” She leaned away from him.

  Chad arrived with the coffee, but as he tried to juggle it and the doorknob at the same time, he accidentally spilled a little on his shoe. He did a little hot-dance as it seeped underneath the tongue and into his socks, spilling more. As he sat there inwardly cursing, the door swung open and he heard Beth scream, “Roger. Stop. Get off me! Mmmm—” To his shock, he saw his best friend forcing a kiss on Beth, who was obviously trying to squirm away from him.

  He set the coffee down on the counter, and rushed over to disengage Roger from Beth.

  “Come on, Beth, don’t you want me, too?” Roger said.

  Chad put one hand on his collar, and with the other, he grabbed the waist of his friend’s pants, jerking him to his feet.

  Roger rounded on him, eyes blazing. He pushed Chad hard in the chest, which caused him to stumble backward a few feet. “Come on, you want a piece of me, Chad?”

  Beth had fallen off the couch and was getting to her feet. She took in Chad’s tight jaw and his eyes, which were shooting fire. But seeming to understand his friend was drunk, he put up his hands and took a deliberate step backward.

  “Come on, Mr. Big Shot Rock Star, take your best shot!” Roger swayed on his feet, fist clenched and raised. “No? I’m disappoint—”

  He turned slightly as if to leave, then swung around and punched Chad right on the chin, snapping his head back. All three of them froze for a second in disbelief. Then, he ran at Chad and tackled him in the midsection, ramming him up against the counter, sending hot coffee flying everywhere. He pushed away and took another swing at him. Chad was able to dodge it, but he came to an end of his patience. He pushed Roger full-force against the opposite counter, scattering everything in close proximity.

  “Chad! Chad! Stop! He’s just drunk. He doesn’t mean it. PETE!”

  The two men were fairly equally matched. Chad was taller and had longer arms, but for Roger, being more compact had its advantages, too. What made him even more dangerous was the fact that he was drunk and overwrought.

  Strangely, as Roger grappled with his best friend, the scene he walked in on earlier replayed in his mind—the sounds of pleasure he heard right before he opened the door. His wife, his Michelle, in the throes of passion with another man, in the bed they shared all of their married life. With a new fury, he pushed Chad back from the counter and swung with wild abandon, catching him high on the cheekbone.

  Beth watched in horror as the two men threw each other around the bus. She was forced to dart out of the way as they came crashing into the wall where she had just been standing. She heard a noise outside and peeked out the window to see Pete and Dante running in their direction. They must have heard me. She turned back around just as Chad pulled back his arm to punch Roger. His elbow hit her hard, just below the nose. The blow sent her reeling backward, until she hit the back of the couch. She slid down to the floor, a hand automatically going to her face. She cried out in pain just as Pete and Dante charged in the door.

  Chad and Roger quit struggling as they realized what happened to Beth. They released their hold on each other. “Oh, God, Beth. I’m so sorry—” Chad started to say.

  “Get away from her, Chad! Haven’t you done enough?” Pete yelled at him as the two bodyguards helped her to her feet.

  “It was an accident—” she started to explain, but Pete would have none of it.

  “Yeah, well ‘accidents’ seem to happen a lot around Chad! It’s high time you and I had a talk. Come with me.”

  Alarmed and infuriated, Chad took a couple of steps toward Pete. “Let go of her! She doesn’t have to go with you.” He really look
ed at Beth for the first time and saw where a cut was opened right at the base of her nose, a larger area already swelling.

  Pete released Beth’s arm and stepped toward Chad until they were merely a foot apart, the singer still breathing hard from his fight with Roger. “I’ve had it with you, Chad! You’re just a punk! You want to go a few rounds with me, I’ll be happy to oblige you.” The older man whipped off his jacket in order to free his arms up better.

  Chad put his fists up, one of which was bleeding from a jagged cut he received from broken glass on the counter. The blood ran down his forearm.

  “CHAD!” Beth cried in near hysterics. “Stop this! I’m going with Pete. Come on, Pete.” She was crying. “Please!”

  Pete looked from her, back to Chad for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he turned and picked up his jacket from where he threw it on the couch. He spun back as if having second thoughts and stepped up until he was inches from Chad’s face. “You’re just lucky she’s here right now,” he hissed, just loud enough for him to hear.

  “Pete, please!”

  “Okay, Beth. Have it your way.” He snatched her bags off the couch and led her out the door. Dante took the chance to grab Roger’s arm and pull him along, too. “You’re coming with us.”

  The door slammed shut behind them, and Chad stood alone in the bus. The only sound was the water running into the sink unchecked from the faucet, which was turned on in the ruckus. Without a transition from a bus full of bodies being flung around and shouting, to complete quiet and stillness, his brain seemed stuck in gear. He sat for ten minutes in the same position, staring at the door and wondering how he managed to lose both his best friend and his girl at the same time. Slowly, he moved over to the sink and stuck his cut hand under the running water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Pete’s days in the military as a drill sergeant took hold of him. He hustled Beth down the stairs of the bus. David and Stan were striding toward them.

  “What happened?” David called out. “Beth, are you all right?”

  Pete continued to hurry her in the direction of a white Cadillac sedan parked alongside the buses without saying anything in response.

  “I’m fine,” Beth called, looking over her shoulder at David.

  Pete turned. “Give me your keys, Stan,” he commanded.

  “My keys?”

  “Your keys. Throw them to me.”

  Stan hurriedly fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Pete. He caught them in midair. He opened the passenger door for Beth. Once the door was closed, he told Stan, “I’ll be back in about an hour.” Without any further explanation to anyone, he got in, started the car’s engine, and took off.

  ***

  For several miles, they drove in silence, welcomed silence after the commotion of minutes before. Pete contemplated how best to impart the information to Beth he had to tell her, and Beth thought about Chad and the cut on his hand, still in shock.

  “Beth, I know you are not gonna want to hear what I have to say…and as much as I hate to say it, you need to hear it. I know you’re enamored of Chad—why, I can’t fathom.” He couldn’t help but add, “But Chad is trouble. Trouble with a capital ‘T’. In the relatively few years I have known him, he’s gotten into at least a couple dozen fights, probably much more than that, but no one was exactly keeping a tally sheet.”

  Pete maneuvered deftly through traffic as he continued. “I thought, maybe, when you came around, things would be different. He would change. But he didn’t and he never will.” The bodyguard glanced over to gauge her reaction to his words. She stared straight ahead. He almost couldn’t bring himself to bring the next blow, but knowing it was the only way, he forged on.

  “But that’s not all. Did he tell you he had a DUI?” Her head spun in his direction. “I didn’t think so. He was a drunk driver. Fortunately, he only hit a brick wall when he crashed, but it just as easily could have been your husband.” He left her with that thought, remaining silent.

  When he turned onto the highway, Beth spoke up. “Pete, where are you taking me? My flight leaves in just a few hours.”

  “To the airport,” he answered gruffly.

  “But I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Chad.”

  “Believe me, it’s for the best. You need to go home to Cassie. You don’t belong in this mess,” he observed, his voice soft.

  Beth stewed in her seat, glancing at the clock again. She threw the numbers around in her head. There wasn’t time to go back. She sighed, looking out the window. Maybe it was best that they have some distance anyway. She needed to think things through.

  ***

  Pete returned the Cadillac to its parking space at the stadium. As he got out, Chad, who had been watching out the window of the bus, came running toward him. He craned his head to scout behind the big man, but seeing no one else get out, he asked flatly, “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone,” Pete replied, unable to keep the note of self-satisfaction out of his voice.

  Chad turned around and marched toward the bus, saying over his shoulder, “I’m calling a cab.”

  “It’s too late! She’s already gone!” Pete yelled after him. Chad entered the bus. “I made sure of that,” he added to himself.

  ***

  Cali opened the door to find her best friend on her front stoop. Her shoulders were slumped and her face was cut and swollen. “Shit, girl! What happened to you?” Cali threw her arm around Beth and pulled her inside.

  Hours later, after Beth had told her story and had taken a second shower, she lay sleeping on the couch. She told Cali what had happened, but Cali saw it as tinted by her own past experience with men. She sat in a chair with her feet up on the coffee table, sipping coffee and watching Beth sleep. She told her it was an accident, but didn’t they all say that?

  She’s too damn naïve. She wants to think everyone is like Paul, but they’re not. Paul and Beth were the exception to the rule—two people who loved each other with all their hearts, unselfishly, unendingly. She simply has no idea how rare that is. This Chad was a jerk, like all the rest, and all that could mean was heartache for her best friend.

  The sound of the doorbell interrupted Cali’s thoughts. She glanced over at Beth, but she hadn’t stirred. Cali wondered who it could be; she wasn’t expecting anyone. When she opened the door, Chad stood there in his signature black t-shirt and jeans, although there was a cold wind blowing his sleeves and it was easy to see the hair standing up on his arms. He had his hands jammed into his front pockets and stood there uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot, a remorseful expression on his face.

  “Hi, Cali,” Chad began.

  She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “What the hell did you come here for? To finish destroying her? And for that matter, how the hell did you know where I live?”

  He sighed, looking down and scratching at some invisible dirt with his foot. “I asked for your address at the school. Told them I’d lost it and I was supposed to send you some concert tickets.”

  “You just lied to them, and they believed you, just like you’ve been lying to Beth.”

  “I never lied to Beth.”

  “No, you just conveniently forgot to tell her the truth about yourself. That you’re a drunk and a thug and you slept with her just to get laid.”

  “That’s not true!” he responded heatedly, reflexively taking a step forward.

  Cali stepped up on the doorstep, grabbing the doorknob. “So, what? Are you going to hit me now, too? You just stay the hell away from her! She’s a kind, sweet person and she deserves better than you.” She slipped inside the door and quickly slammed it in Chad’s face.

  Beth was up and shuffling toward her. “Who was that?”

  “Oh, just a neighbor wanting to borrow a cup of sugar.”

  “From you? Don’t they know you can’t bake?”

  “Apparently not,” Cali rejoined, glancing back over her shoulder as if expecting to
find someone there. “How about a cup of hot chocolate? Come with me into the kitchen and talk to me while I make some.”

  Cali waited uneasily, worried Chad would bang on the door or make his presence known in some other way. She had to keep him from Beth.

  ***

  Chad stood on the porch, trying to figure out what his next move was. When Beth wasn’t at home, he decided she must be at Cali’s. The way she chewed him out, Beth must have told her what happened between them, and the way she was blocking the door like a mother bear told him Beth was inside. If he could only talk to her, explain himself. But what was he to do? Wait around like some stalker for her to come out? Bang on the door and call her name? No, that was the kind of behavior that got him into this mess in the first place. Confused and upset, he turned around and climbed back into the cab he had hoped to send away.

  On the plane back, Chad stared out the window, but it was nighttime and there was nothing to look at. Cali’s voice was still ringing in his head. What the hell did you come here for? To finish destroying her? You’re a drunk and a thug and you slept with her just to get laid. He had not slept with her to get laid; he knew that to be true. She captivated him from the start. She asked nothing of him, and somehow made the ache inside him go away. She had the power to pull him out of himself, out of the darkness, the misery, and the despair. He couldn’t let that go.

  But what about the other accusations? It was true he had hurt her on more than one occasion, despite his best intentions. The image of her cut and swelling face as she lay on the floor of the tour bus haunted him. He knew he didn’t intend to hurt her, but like Pete said, ‘accidents’ seem to happen around him. And he heard his father’s voice, the voice she made silent, telling him he was no good, he was worthless. The farther he got away from her, the louder the voices grew, until he finally asked the stewardess for a drink in an effort to silence them.

  ***

  The next morning, Chad didn’t call, which was unusual. Beth expected him to phone because he always insisted that their calls be “on his dime.” She figured he was exhausted from all the turmoil of the last couple of days and must be sleeping in. She tried to reach him after work, but he never picked up. She left messages, but he never called back. By late that night, she had to believe that he was no longer interested in talking to her. She tried to wrap her mind around that, but something just didn’t seem right.