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Wicked: The Complete Series

Page 25

by Lily Graison


  He sighed heavily while looking at her and it was then she noticed the papers in his hand. When he lifted them and walked to her, her heart skipped a beat.

  “You know you can tell me anything, Faith,” he said when he stopped in front of her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He handed her the papers and the air in her lungs left in an audible whoosh when she scanned the document.

  Divorce papers.

  The lunch that had threatened to come up all day decided then to make an appearance and she dropped the papers and ran to the bathroom. When her stomach was empty, she felt a cold cloth on the back of her neck.

  “It’s all right, baby. Talk to me.”

  Faith looked up at her father and did the only thing she had energy to do at the moment. She cried.

  ****

  “What do you mean she refused!”

  Roxy sat down in the chair opposite him. “That’s what her lawyer said.”

  “She can’t refuse to sign them,” Mick said. “She has to give me a divorce.”

  “Actually she can refuse until you meet her conditions.”

  “Which are?”

  Roxy laughed but there wasn’t any humor in the sound. “Well, that’s the funny part,” she said, looking up at him. “She hasn’t asked for anything.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t she sign them?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine, Mick.”

  Mick leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, willing the pain drumming inside his head away. The past month had been a living hell. He’d smoked more than he ever had and the temptation to drink himself into a stupor was only a liquor store away but every time he made an attempt to walk into the store, he remembered drinking was what got him in this situation in the first place.

  Then there was Faith.

  If it weren’t for what Jennifer had done, he wouldn’t even be worried. His current wife hadn’t made any outrageous demands on him or his time. She wasn’t depleting his bank account or demanding anything from him. So far, his marriage to Faith was perfect. He was free to do as he wished and he got to keep every penny of his money. The only downside he saw was the fact he wasn’t getting laid. A month and he hadn’t even kissed a girl. It wasn’t like the opportunity hadn’t presented itself. It had. Daily. But every time he seriously thought about taking someone to his bed, he thought of Faith and found himself making up some lame excuse before hiding inside his room, alone. He realized then that Faith had ruined him and he spent a week trying to bed the first girl he saw but found the task nearly impossible. He turned down every woman he saw. They were too tall, or too blonde, wore too much make-up or had blue eyes. The minute he decided to just close his eyes and go for it, out of nowhere, a little voice in the back of his head asked—would his little bundle of sunshine hate him for fucking someone else when he was married to her? Probably. The thoughts of her with someone else left him feeling edgy and ready to lash out at the first thing he came into contact with so why wouldn’t she feel the same way?

  Maybe she isn’t as hung up on you as you are her?

  He scowled at his thoughts. Four weeks since he’d seen her and he still could not stop thinking about her. She haunted his dreams and every morning he woke with a hard-on and her name on his lips. He felt anxious most days and every night left him in restless fits of sleep. How the hell could she have wormed her way into his heart so quickly? Hell, he didn’t even know her! But damn him if he didn’t want her. Question was, did she want him? There was nothing to tell him she wanted him for the long run other than her not signing those papers and that gave him a little hope, but hope for what? What did he really want? Not to stay married, that was for sure. How could he? The only taste of married life he’d had still left a bitter tang in his mouth. Marriage didn’t agree with him but a few conjugal visits or ten did. He smiled. That idea was worth exploring.

  Maybe he could go visit her, slake his raging hormones on her luscious little body and get her to sign the papers… or stay married to her.

  He sighed.

  Why did that crazy notion always pop up? What was he even thinking? He didn’t even know the girl. How could he even entertain the thoughts of staying married to her? He shouldn’t be. But he was.

  You need to see her while you’re sober. When you see first hand that she isn’t the tiny little goddess you remember her being, the desire to stay married will go away.

  “I need to go see her,” he said, opening his eyes. “Find out what she wants.” And spending a few days working off the tension from the tour wouldn’t hurt anything, either. He could have his fun, get her completely out of his system, and then get her to sign the divorce papers. Easy enough.

  “You may have no other choice,” Roxy said. “Since she hasn’t asked for anything, there’s nothing I can do. Have you tried calling her?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “The number Jessi gave me isn’t working and there’s no other listing for her or her family.”

  “Well, I suggest you plan a trip to Georgia, then. We have a break before we head to Europe. It’s the only time you have to convince her to sign those papers.”

  He nodded his head, already playing out their meeting inside his head. He’d show up and Faith would be so excited to see him, she’d jump him right where he stood. He hid a smile and grabbed his cell phone. “Any idea where Christian and Jessi are?” he asked.

  “Locked up in their room last I heard.”

  Mick grinned and dialed Christian’s number anyway. “That boy is going to break something off he’ll need later in life if he doesn’t slow down.”

  Roxy laughed and stood up. “Well, you’re the one who created the little sex fiend. If his junk falls off, it’ll be on your conscience.”

  To his surprise, Christian answered on the third ring. “Yeah.”

  “I’m headed to Georgia to talk to Faith. Ask Jessi if she could help me find somewhere to stay while I’m there.” He waited and heard Jessi’s voice faintly in the background.

  “She wants to know why you’re going.”

  Mick rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “Because I’m going to go see why Faith didn’t sign the divorce papers,” he said. “I’ll need somewhere to stay while I’m there. I’m not going to assume it’ll be as simple as asking her to sign them and her doing it. We already did that once and she refused.”

  “She refused?”

  “Yeah. Roxy got a call from Faith’s lawyer this morning. Faith refuses to sign the papers.” Christian and Jessi carried on a quiet conversation for several minutes and Mick’s frustration level grew by the second. Why Jessi still thought he was going to hurt Faith was beyond him. The girl had barely wanted to give him Faith’s phone number and now him going to see her was apparently going to be a problem.

  The fragmented conversation he could hear through the phone continued for several minutes and Mick was clenching his teeth until Christian spoke again.

  “Jessi said the only place she knows of is a Bed and Breakfast in town, if its still there.”

  “Can she find out?”

  “Yeah. She’s looking it up now.”

  “Great. Call me the minute you find something out.” He hung up and called Curt, asking for the exact date of their break. When at last he knew when he’d see Faith again, he breathed a sigh of relief. Five more weeks and he would see her. Five more weeks until he got laid.

  Four

  “This is it?” Mick asked, shocked. He walked to the front of the SUV and peered at what was supposed to be a town. A row of old buildings ran down the left hand side of the road they stood on, a train track on the other. A few people milled on the sidewalks in front of the stores and only a handful of cars littered the roads. The air was dry, dust covered everything in sight and he was almost positive he smelled cow shit.

  “This is it,” Jessi said, grinning. “Welcome to the town of Barton. Population, 198.”

  “This is where you grew up?” Christian asked, glancin
g down Main Street.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s the epitome of small town USA.”

  “Where’s the rest of it?” Roxy asked.

  “There isn’t any more,” Jessi said. “Well, not of town, that is.”

  “You’re shitting me,” Mick laughed. “Hell, I can spit further than this stretch of road.”

  Jessi grinned and pulled her hair back, pulling it up into a ponytail to get it off her neck. “It’s mostly farmland and I wasn’t joking when I said I lived in a small town.”

  “I believe you now,” Devin said.

  Mick shook his head and looked down the road in both directions. Somewhere in this little piss-hole town was his girl. He held back a smile and said, “All right, enough of the tour. Where’s the place we’re staying?”

  “Just down the street,” Jessi said. “Fifth house down.” She pointed down the road to the houses that lined the street beyond where they stood. “It’s the three-story blue one. You can’t miss it.”

  Mick nodded his head and turned, looking behind him. The town wasn’t even marked on the map they’d used to navigate the roads from the airport a hundred miles away. The wide-open expanse of land he’d seen rolling in an ocean of green hills and valleys was so far from what he’d ever seen he couldn’t do anything but stare dumbly at it as they made their way here. Jessi had pointed out landmarks on the drive over but the others had sat in silence, watching the scenery with stunned silence. The homes dotted along the road were in poor condition, the fields looked hearty and the land was green and every person they passed on the road had a warm smile for them.

  The residents of Barton were beginning to notice them and had started to stop and gape at them as they stood by the SUV. Mick could tell by their curious looks they hadn’t seen anyone like them before. The whole band came with him for various reasons and the large black SUV they pulled up in looked out of place in a town so dull and covered with dust. He was sure their appearance didn’t help matters either. Rock stars didn’t exactly blend in with their surroundings. They stood out no matter where they went.

  “The diner is the last building if anyone is hungry,” Jessi said. “They have the best food in town and I’m not sure what time supper will be served at the Inn.”

  “The diner is the only food, you mean,” Devin said, looking up and down the street. “This place is a ghost town.”

  “It’s not the only restaurant. The Jody Burger is out by the highway but Helen’s is where most everyone goes unless you’re under the age of twenty.”

  “Well, as hungry as I am, I just want to lie down,” Luke said. “I can eat later. Let’s head to the Inn and come back later for food.”

  “Go on ahead,” Mick said. “I’m going to take a look around.” And see if I can find Faith. He left them on the street and started across the road, the people standing on the sidewalk watching him as he walked toward them.

  The others left, telling him to come to the Inn when he was finished exploring. The stores in town were old, the facades resembling much of what he thought they did when built. Colorful awnings hung over the cracked sidewalk and every storefront was lined with benches, most of which were occupied with elderly men who stopped talking to stare at him as he passed by.

  He held back a smile as he clomped past them. He was sure his bare tattooed arms and clunky boots would cause more than a few debates, not to mention the eyebrow piercing. He was sure they’d thought the devil had come to Mayberry, USA and wouldn’t be surprised if the townsfolk came after him with pitchforks drawn by dusk.

  An elderly woman smiled at him as he approached and he slowed his steps, tilting his head to her as he passed. He stopped when a thought came to him and turned back to face her. “Excuse me, but do you know Faith Weston?”

  She gasped softly and her eyes widened. “What do you want with our Faith?”

  “So you know her then?”

  “Of course,” she said, straightening her shoulders and clutching her purse to her stomach. “Everyone in town knows the Weston’s.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?” he asked.

  “I do, but I don’t think I’ll be telling ya. I’m not sure the Reverend would like that too much.”

  “I see,” he said. He smiled and glanced at the other residents of Barton who were trying hard not to look like they were listening to his conversation. “If you see her, or the Reverend, could you tell her I was looking for her?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure the Reverend—”

  “Yes, I’m sure he won’t,” Mick said, interrupting. “But it’s important that I speak to her.”

  “I’ll do what I can, then,” she finally said.

  He nodded his head to her and turned, continuing back down the street. He asked two other women if they knew Faith and the conversation ended much like the first had. Everyone knew Faith but no one wanted to tell him anything beyond that. Seeing a young man at the end of the street, he wondered if he wasn't just asking the wrong person. Hurrying past the people on the sidewalk, he made his way toward the end of the street and slowed his steps as he approached.

  The man turned and Mick was surprised when he looked at him. His size was misleading. He was nearly as tall as he was but his face held the youthful appearance of someone not much older than twenty. Mick smiled before saying, “Hey man. I’m looking for Faith Weston. Do you know her?”

  The guy raised one eyebrow and gave Mick a look that rivaled the scathing glances the old woman had given him.

  “Maybe,” the guy said. “Who wants to know?”

  “I do.”

  “And who are you?”

  “Not really any of your business,” Mick said. He knew the answer was the worst possible one he could have given when the young man in front of him smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Well, seeing how I don’t know ya, you’re going to have to answer better than that,” he said. “I don’t go giving the whereabouts of people I care about to complete strangers.”

  People he cared about? Mick studied the guy and wondered just how well he knew Faith. He could tell by his sudden defensive manner that he knew her better than the people he’d already asked. Was this guy an old boyfriend? A current one? A tight clenching in his chest squeezed the air from his lungs before he pushed the feeling away and gritted his teeth against the thought of Faith with someone other than him. “Mick Sheppard,” he finally said. “And I’ve traveled a damn long way to talk to her. If you know where I can find her, I’d appreciate you telling me.”

  The smug look on the guys face melted away and Mick watched as his face turned red an instant before he uncrossed his arms and took two steps toward him.

  “Mick Sheppard?” he said. “You’re Mick Sheppard? Drummer for that band?”

  “Yes,” Mick said, raising one eyebrow. “Heard of me then?”

  Mick felt damn near violated the way this total stranger looked him over. Not an inch of his body was spared and the look on the guys face twisted in disgust with every passing second. When the guy looked back up, unabashed hatred showed on his face. “Oh, I’ve heard about you all right and it looks like today is my lucky day.”

  Mick didn’t have time to brace himself when the guy’s fist came crashing into the side of his head. He stumbled back, tripping on the edge of a bench and slammed into the wall of the building behind him. A startled scream was heard before the beefy fist once again connected with his face. He lifted his own fist, returning a powerful blow and had just drawn back for another go when Faith suddenly appeared in front of him.

  “Stop!” she yelled, reaching out to grab his hand before turning her back to him and pointing a finger at the man who’d punched him. “Jacob, stop it! Daddy will have your head if he knows what you’re doing!”

  “Get out of the way, Faith,” Jacob said, wiping his lip while looking over her head at Mick.

  Mick straightened and looked between Faith and the guy who’d sucker-punched him. Seein
g them side-by-side, he noticed a resemblance. It wasn’t much but they favored each other enough for him to wonder if this was one of her five brothers. It would explain the punch to the side of his head. What other reason did the dude have to assault him?

  He was still too stunned to do much more than listen to them as the people on the sidewalk gathered around, their hushed whispers mingling with the ringing inside his head. He watched the scene in front of him and ran his tongue over his lip, tasting blood.

  “Go home, Faith.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, Jacob. Go back to the diner. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Jacob laughed and shook his head. “I’m not leaving you alone with… that.”

  Faith’s shoulders sagged as she sighed. “Jacob, I’m not having this conversation right now. Go tell Lucy I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She turned; leveling her gaze on him. Mick bit his tongue to keep from smiling at her.

  He was completely sober now and she looked exactly as he remembered her. A tiny wisp of a girl with large emerald eyes and curves that made parts of his anatomy stand up and take notice. Her dark, shoulder length hair was blowing in the slight breeze and the splattering of freckles on her nose reminded him of the night he’d tried to count every one he found on her body. He wanted her instantly. He grinned when she looked up at him. “Miss me, Tinker Bell?”

  She scowled and grabbed his arm, turning to drag him down the street. He followed with a wide grin on his face. When they reached the far end of the sidewalk, Faith stopped and turned to him. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed.

  “I came to see my wife,” he said, leaning down to be eye level with her. “Seems she’s forgotten about me in the three months since I married her.”

  Her face turned red and she glanced away. Mick used her distraction to grab her under the arms, lifting her off the ground and walking around the side of the building. He braced her against the wall and took advantage of her shocked gasp by kissing her.

  The wiggle of protest she gave him only lasted a few seconds before her fingers climbed into his hair, her legs wrapping around his hips. She moaned against his mouth, her tongue pushing past his teeth as her hold on him tightened. She was mewling like a kitten by the time he broke the kiss. “God, I’ve missed you,” he said, peppering kisses across her cheek to her neck. “I get hard just thinking about you.”

 

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