Jesse
“Dude, you should’ve just slipped her a backstage pass,” Tag states, adding some black eyeliner to his paste white powdered face. “That’s what I did with Lacey. Now, I’m guaranteed tonight’s lay.”
“Is that really all they are to you?” I ask, fixing the collar of my jacket.
“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “Isn’t that what it’s like for you? We dreamed of this lifestyle for sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Now that the dream is reality, I plan to live it for as long as I can.”
“That wasn’t my dream,” I sigh, falling back on the couch and taking hold of the Xbox control.
“So, then, what drew you to music?”
“The poetry,” I shrug. “The ability to express the feelings I don’t know how to put into words without feeling as though I’m trying too hard. When I have a guitar in my hand everything I feel seems to make its way out of my body through the magical portals of my fingertips without my forcing it. It’s the only time I can be me without worrying about what the world thinks. The groupies, the booze, the comped meals, to me those are minor annoyances on the road to freedom through expression.”
“You’re such a wanker,” he replies, tossing a brush in my direction. “If girls are throwing themselves at your feet, you take advantage of that. Don’t deny your inner thirteen year old, mate. Make that fucker proud.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, thinking back to Cressida’s last words. If anyone is ashamed of me, it’s that thirteen year old Tag speaks of.
“Five minutes till curtain call guys,” Steven, our manager announces sticking his head through the dressing room door.
“Seriously, mate,” Tag begins, clapping his hand on my shoulder. “We’re gonna rock the house tonight. There’ll be broads lined up to get your autograph once we walk off that stage. Grab one of them and forget about the uptight blonde. There are plenty of other waitresses in the sea.”
Maybe so, I think, but none can compare to Sophie Westbrook.
A Beautiful Lie
Sophie
Warm water washing over my aching limbs, I settle into the tub. So what if I’m drinking wine from a box while enjoying the waxy scent of candles purchased from the dollar isle of the grocery store? The point is, for the first time in over twelve months, I’m free to relax. It doesn’t matter that my car has apparently decided to officially blow up. Who cares that in approximately three days, the heartless prick from the electric company will once again come knocking on my door with the threat of turning off my lights? For tonight, I refuse to let any of that in. Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the inflatable bath pillow.
“We’ll have it all, Sophie. I promise. I’ll find a way to make this great for us.”
“I’m scared, TJ,” I sob, burying my head in my hands.
“I know, baby. I’m scared too, but I got this. You do whatever you have to, to keep our baby safe. I’ll figure out the rest.” Pulling me against him, he kisses my forehead and cradles my head in his hands. “I’m going to do right by you, Sophie Westbrook. You’ll see.”
Sloshing water over the tub, I jerk awake. What time is it, and when did I fall asleep? Cold water kissing my skin, I reach out and grab the glass of now warm wine. Taking a long sip, I gather myself. I remember stepping into the tub and shutting off the water. That’s as far as it goes. I didn’t know it was possible to be more exhausted mentally than I felt physically, but I guess I was wrong.
Rushing through the actual hygienic portion of the bathing process, I grab a towel and step onto the rug. Not bothering to blow dry my hair, I dry off and slip into my robe. Forgetting I’m alone for a slight second, I tiptoe toward the kitchen. Laughing out loud at my own ridiculousness, I grab some left over mac and cheese from the fridge.
Outside I hear the booming voice of my neighbor and our resident drug lord. Double checking the locks, I run to my bedroom, close the door, and slide under the blankets. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it, but one day I will get myself and Marcus out of this litter box.
The last thing my son will have to worry about on the way home from school is whether or not he’s safe. I’m going to make sure of it. Setting the macaroni on my nightstand, I grab my lyrics journal and my guitar. I may not know how we’re going to make our great escape, but I do know these two items are our tickets.
Jesse
“Great show,” the purple haired fan says, sticking her breasts out just a little further.
“Thanks,” I answer, dabbing at my brow with a towel once more.
“So umm,” she scoots in a little closer and runs the tips of her fingers along my neck, “what do you like, ya know, get off on when you’re not on stage?”
Skimming my eyes over her lavender die job, diamond nose ring, and black lipstick; I smirk to myself. “Listen, I’m flattered. Really. The truth is I’m so tired I don’t think I can get off on much of anything at this point,” I lie. “I’m just counting down the minutes until my mandatory presence has been made known and I can go back to the hotel for some sleep.”
“I thought badasses like you were known for going all night,” she grins, running her hand up my thigh.
Smiling, I catch her wrist. “Common myth. Besides, you seem like a nice girl. You deserve more than one night with the likes of me.”
“What if I don’t want more?” She breathes into my ear.
Sliding off the couch and stepping back, I stare her dead in the eyes. “The answer is no.”
“Pussy!” She yells.
Shaking my head, I walk over to Kraft services for a Kickstart. The being dead tired part of the story wasn’t a lie, but the truth is if it’d been Sophie Westbrook throwing herself at me I would’ve jumped in a heartbeat. Smiling at Lacey as she approaches the table, I pop the top open on my can.
“Do they always throw themselves at him like that?” She growls cutting her eyes to Tag.
“For as long as he’ll let them,” I concur.
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “this party is totally lame. If he ever pulls himself away from the groupies let him know I left.”
“Actually, do you mind if I leave with you?”
Snickering, she cuts her eyes at me. “I thought you had it in for Country.”
“It’s completely platonic,” I swear. “I just need an excuse to get the hell of here, and you gave me the perfect opening.”
“Sure.” She shrugs. “But, you’ll have to find your own way back to the hotel. I’m not going to sit there waiting on him like some lost dog.”
“Deal.” I agree, leading her to the door.
The thick night air doing little to help my unease, I help Lacey find her way through the backstage entrance and into the parking lot. All the while aware that these few moments might be the last I have to figure out a way to get to Sophie. Scanning the area, I take note of the stragglers and toss on my sunglasses.
“It’s after midnight,” Lacey smarts. “I don’t think you stand a chance at UV damage.”
“It’s more for privacy than anything.” I shrug.
“Sure, because magic sunglasses make you invisible.” She laughs. “Sounds like some kind of bullshit Country would make up for the kid.”
“What do you know about Sophie’s son?” I question, following her toward her car.
“Plenty.” She pulls her hair into a messy bun, and turns to me. “But it’s not him you’re curious about. It’s the baby daddy.”
Leaning against the car, I laugh. “You caught me.”
“Mmm hmm.” She nods. “And for that kind of information you need to pay. Big time.”
“Name your price.”
Sly smile spread across her face, she says, “Steak N Shake. I’m starving.”
“Sounds fair enough to me,” I chuckle.
Unlocking the door, she demands. “Get in and try not to fuck up anything. I just had it detailed.”
Angel of Small Death
Jesse
Nestled at a table in the back of the small din
er-like chain, I allow the smell of greasy hamburgers to waft through my nostrils. In front of me, Lacey places her order for a cheeseburger consisting of seven patties and seven pieces of cheese. I order a platter of chili cheese fries and a chocolate shake
Fiddling with her straw, she looks up at me. “So, what do you wanna know?”
Leaning back and crossing my arms, I stare at her. “Are you ever evasive or are you always this cut to the chase?”
“I don’t believe in bullshitting.” She shrugs. “Life’s too short to beat around the bush.”
“I can drink to that,” I reply, accepting my milkshake from the server and toasting her. “Okay then. I suppose I want whatever you’ve got. The thing is, I meet a lot of girls on the road, but Sophie’s different from all of them.”
“Because she’s not some slut-faced groupie who walks up to you with her panties in hand?” She laughs.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you go home with Tag last night. I would think you’d be less quick to judge given the circumstance.”
She shrugs. “I’m a woman with a high sex drive and the confidence to own it. That doesn’t make me slutty. It makes me powerful. There’s a difference in girls like me and girls like the ones I saw backstage tonight.”
“And that difference would be?” Curiosity getting the best of me, I munch on a chili cheese fry as I wait for her answer.
Mouth full, she mumbles. “Desperation. Those girls are desperate. Plain and simple. How many times did you tell the freak who escaped Fraggle Rock you weren’t interested before she finally took the hint?”
I shake my head in response and pop another fry.
“My point exactly,” she continues, slurping her shake. “Desperate. Sophie Westbrook may be a lot of things, but she’s too proud for desperation. That’s what you see in her that makes her different.”
Considering her assumption, I shrug. “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s all there is to it. Sophie is like a message in a bottle drifting in the sea. You have no idea what’s inside, but you hope to be the one to figure it out.”
Clapping her hand on the table in an unprecedented outburst, she laughs. “Hit her with a few cheeseball lines like that and I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“You think I’m cheesy?” I question, wiping my mouth on the thin paper napkin.
“The cheesiest,” she admits. “Under all that leather rests a soft heart. If you want Country, that’s the weapon you’ve gotta choose.”
“So, give me something I can work with to help me get started,” I plea.
“Country’s had one great love in her life. TJ was an inspiration to us all. He was born and bred in the projects. Just like me, just like so many other people in this godforsaken city.” She sighs. “Anyway, TJ never let the streets define him. I don’t think any of us were really surprised when he brought Country home for the first time. This porcelain-faced girl with blonde curls and blue eyes, who’d clearly never set foot on our side of town.” Shaking her head, she laughs. “You could smell the fear pulsing through her veins. She loved him, though. That much was obvious. If anyone was going to believe in the dream TJ was selling it was going to be her. She wasn’t even worried when she got pregnant. Scared, of course, but not worried. TJ told her it’d all work out, and she believed him.”
Leaning forward, I pry, “So what happened then? What I mean to say is, it clearly did not work out. He died, right? So what came next? How did she end up waiting tables at a dusty bar while raising that kid on her own? How is it that no one has saw the value in her and made an honest woman out of her?”
“Slow down, tiger,” she teases, waving her hands at me. “I’m not her fucking...what are those things called? They write the books about other people’s lives. You know the ones I’m talking about right? Autobiographers. That’s it.” She snaps.
“Actually, I think you’re going for biographer,” I correct.
“Whatever,” she shrugs, waiving me off. “My point is there are things I don’t know. Here’s what I can tell you. TJ died in a freak accident, Country blames herself. She still thinks that damn guitar is going to get her a bus ticket to Nashville, which is part of why she keeps working at Tony’s. As for the men, many have come knocking. Almost all have been turned away. Country’s not looking for a replacement dick. Her heart belongs to TJ. Always has, always will.”
Deflating, I finish my shake and stare out the window. I’m not looking for someone to replace my Cressida either, but maybe there’s healing in finding someone with a heart as bruised as yours. Maybe that’s the key to moving on in this life, while you wait to join your true lover in the next. And, maybe, just maybe it’s that brokenness that’ll be the bond I’ve been trying to figure out how to form with Sophie Westbrook. I check my watch. I have eight hours left to find out, and I don’t want to waste them gorging myself on greasy fast food.
Sophie
Jumping, I open my eyes and listen to the pounding sound against my front door. Heart thudding against my ribcage, I grab the knife from my nightstand and my cellphone.
Staring into the blue light as I tiptoe down the hallway, I note the time. Three in the morning. That’s the time of my death. Huddling beside the couch, I pull my robe tighter. The pounding of fists echoing that of my racing heart, I wait for the assailant to break the thin wood.
“Country, get your ass out of bed and answer the damn door! I’ve gotta pee,” Lacey yells.
Flipping on the light, I sigh a breath of relief. Slowly undoing each lock, I turn the knob. “Why don’t you pee in your own apartment, psycho? Geez! You gave me a heart attack.”
Eyeing the knife still clutched in my fist, she laughs. “Clearly. Look alive, kid. You’ve got company.”
“Huh?” Stepping back to allow her in, I stand dumbfounded as Jesse Lee follows close behind. “What are you? Why are you?”
Hungry eyes tracing the length of my barely covered thighs, he grins. “Lacey left her keys and her roommate wasn’t home. She said you’d be cool with us crashing here for a bit.”
Confused, I pull at my robe now wishing I’d used some of that adrenaline to find some clothes. “Kita’s not home? That’s odd. And you’re with Lacey? I thought she was hooking up with that other guy.”
Coming out of the bathroom, Lacey laughs. “What’s the matter, Country? You jealous?”
“No, I just...I just didn’t realize you were that into rock bands,” I stammer, my cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
Taking notice, Jesse runs his thumbs over my inflamed skin. “Don’t worry, Sophie. I still only have eyes for you.” Flashing that deliciously cocky smile he owns so well, he continues, “You look like you were sleeping. Want us to go?”
Feeling exposed, I clasp my robe together to hide any trace of cleavage and step back. “No. You’re fine. Just let me go and change.”
Body humming, I’m consciously aware of his eyes searing into me as I walk away. Cheek still tingling from his touch, I close the door and take a deep breath. Jesse Lee has the ability to make me want for things I haven’t dreamt of since TJ. In fact, if not for Lacey’s presence, I have a feeling a part of me would call him back here and beg for him to ravish me. Terrified by the very thought, I grab the bulkiest sweats I can find despite the sweltering heat and step into the bathroom.
Turning on the tap, I splash some water onto my face and take off my robe. Taking a minute to examine my underwear in the full length mirror, I decide my cotton briefs are probably the safest bet and bend to put my foot into my sweats. Back to the hall entrance, I don’t notice the door open until I feel the draft. Turning, I lock eyes with a smirking Jesse Lee. Body ablaze with embarrassment, I grab my sweatshirt and hold it over my naked breasts.
“Sorry,” he manages after several seconds of awkward silence. “I didn’t know you’d be in here. Lacey said this was the door to the loo.”
“It is,” I answer, nodding to my bedroom entrance. “There are two. Give me a sec and I’ll be done.�
�
“Of course,” he replies, a light tinge of red brushing his cheeks as he shuts the door.
Clutching the sink to stabilize myself, I stare at my reflection. The first man I’ve felt remotely attracted to in years just saw me in my period panties. If that doesn’t turn him off, I don’t know what will.
Sing
Sophie
Glancing at Jesse’s pair of kings and Lacey’s pair of sixes, I smile. “Read ‘em and weep losers. Full house.” Placing my cards on the table, I rake the poker chips toward my lap.
Yawning, Lacey sighs. “Whatever. I’ll pay you Monday. I’m beat. Still no word from Kita?”
“Not at all,” I reply, checking my phone. “I wonder what she’s up to.”
“Whatever it is, I wish she’d end it already. I’m not kidding. I’m ready to hit the sheets.”
Pulling the spare key to Markita’s apartment off my key chain, I hand it to her. “Here. Just make sure you get it back to me.”
“Took you long enough,” she huffs. “Next time don’t wait until it’s five fucking thirty in the morning.”
I shrug. “You said you wanted to wait.”
“Yeah well, that was before I knew my roommate didn’t care if I was stranded the middle of the night.”
I laugh. “Okay, drama queen. Whatever you say. Go home, get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I show her out, lock the door behind her, and turn to collect the dirty glasses from the living room. Standing, Jesse blocks my path. “It was three-hundred dollars, right?”
Shaking my head, I cross my arms. “Don’t worry about it. Really, I’m okay if we don’t settle. I’ll never see that money from Lacey. I can promise that. It’s just for fun around these parts.”
Rock and Roll Country (Jesse's Girl #1) Page 4