Unexplainable

by Amity Cross

  "Nothing specific. He said you'd had a hard life. That's all."

  I didn't know what to say about that. "You think he's not capable of loving someone?"

  "I think he is, that's the point. He just wants it too bad."

  Maybe I wanted it just as bad, too. Maybe that was the problem… I found myself wondering if the alternative would've been better. Stay in Melbourne and try to find another shitty job and claw my way out of the slag heap. What would've I done if I had of said no to West? Flounder, expire... I had no prospects and even though I had West in my bed, I wasn't sure it was enough.

  I needed a purpose. Right now, I was clinging onto the ass cheek of this tour like the little barnacle that could. The only thing I was good for was waiting around for West...and I was beginning to resent his ass for it big time. Blair Hayden waited for no man. She took what she wanted and flipped the bird on the way out the door. When the fuck had I become so meek and mild?

  "What was he like before?" I asked. "Before the band and the fame?"

  "Well," Joe said, swirling the ice around in his glass of scotch, "when we were kids, we'd always get into trouble. Jake always had my back and I always had his. Growing up in the bush on a farm meant we got away with a lot of stupid shit. My parents still run their potato farm, it's a huge commercial thing, you know. Jake lived just outside of town and his Dad owned and ran the John Deere dealership. It was simple, you know? Despite the responsibility of having families that worked for themselves, it was nothing like this."

  "He said that you both wanted to get out of the country…"

  "Yeah, we did. Jake and I, we were good at music. If Affliction never happened, we'd both be back working in our families farming empires. Some days I think he shouldn't have left, others I don't."

  "Because of what happened to him?" It was obvious, really. West wanted a different life, but it had all become too much for him to handle. Was it because he had a caring soul, or because he was easily manipulated by his dreams?

  "Yeah." Joe sighed and downed the rest of his scotch. "He cares too much. About the press, the fans. I think that's half the problem. He can't switch off."

  "Well," I said, my stomach feeling even more unsettled, "then we just have to find a healthy balance between the good and the bullshit."

  "You've helped a lot with that, Blair. Affliction hasn't sounded this good in a while. We're back on top of our game. Everyone's noticed, so don't go thinking that you're being disregarded or anything. Me, Mick, Rob, we want you here, too."

  "Thanks, Joe," I said, my eyebrows rising in surprise. West was changing for the better, huh? It didn't mean it was the end and it certainly didn't mean it was the right thing for me. There was something that still wasn't clicking in place and for the life of me I couldn't work it out.

  "Anytime." He stood and pulled me into a tight bear hug and this odd feeling spread through me. It wasn't desire, not by a long shot. Was it contentment at the fact that somebody actually wanted to be my friend? Was I finally starting to give a crap for real?

  "Don't give up on him," Joe said, pulling away. "It's tough being on tour and he's got problems, but he's better with you."

  "Don't fucking touch her."

  We both turned at the same time at the sound of West's voice and as I saw his fist hurtling towards his best mate, I had just enough time to step out of the way. There was a thud as it connected with Joe's nose and he stumbled back into the bar, shock clear in his eyes.

  "Hey," the bartender yelled at them, picking up the phone. "Outside or I'll call security."

  "Don't," I said to the bartender. "Let me handle this before you go calling the brawn."

  He eyed me for a moment and placed the phone back into its cradle. "You've got one minute."

  Thankful for the reprieve, I stepped between the two men, turning to Joe. "Don't give up on him, you say? Get outta here, I'll take care of the stupid fuck." Since when the fuck did I become the mediator?

  Joe wiped his nose on the back of his hand, smearing blood across his lip. He glared at West and stormed out of the bar, oblivious to the crowd of people watching our every move.

  "You," I said, jabbing a finger at West. "Upstairs. You're causing a scene."

  "Are-" he began, but I shoved him as hard as I could.

  "Get upstairs, West before I tear you a new one in front of the cameras."

  That got his insane ass moving and I followed him towards the elevators out in the lobby, seething. All the apprehension I'd been feeling about our relationship had all but dissolved…and not in a good way. As soon as we were behind closed doors, the fight we were going to have would be the worst of the bunch. I just knew that all our dirty laundry was going to be aired and who knew if the fucking stains would come out?

  As soon as the door closed, I grabbed Blair's arm and turned her to face me. I had to see her eyes. "Are you fucking him?"

  "What the fuck, West?" she shrieked at me.

  "Are you fucking him?"

  "No. He's your best fucking friend. How could you jump to that conclusion because he gave me one hug? A fucking hug."

  "I don't like him touching you." The moment I'd walked into that bar and saw his arms around her…the rage that had exploded in me was fucking extraordinary.

  "I've never had a real friend, West."

  Her statement almost blindsided me. "What am I then?"

  "It's different between you and me."

  "What about the fucking part?" I asked sullenly.

  "Get fucked," she hissed, shoving me hard in the chest. "A friendship is very different to what you and I have. There are parts of me I've only ever shown you and you're sitting there accusing me of fucking your best friend? Pig-eyed asshole."

  "You're mine," I said, darkly, ignoring the fact that I was being a childish prick.

  My wildcat stood eye to eye with me and snarled, "And you're mine."

  "Swear it to me."

  "I haven't touched anyone since that night in the bar."

  "Fucking good."

  "I'm trying to deal with my own shit too, you know. It's not all about you, you self-centered cock stain."

  My enraged expression fell and I took step back. I felt like I'd just been slapped.

  "What am I meant to do while you're off doing fuck knows what?" she asked, letting out a sigh. "I don't have anything to do and I'm beginning to feel like the gold digging whore that Furlough so desperately wants me to be."

  "I thought we'd cleared this up?" I asked, the anger dropping form my voice. "I don't give a flying fuck about the money."

  "I obviously still care."

  Her expression started to crumble into one that was tinged with sadness and I stepped forward and pulled her against me, holding her tight.

  "I hate that you're not here," she whispered.

  "I hate it, too." I buried my face against her hair and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. She belonged in my arms. It felt right.

  "I don't want to be useless."

  "Well, we just have to find something that you want to do."

  "Like what? I've been asking myself that since the day I left home. I can't think of one thing I want to do or become."

  "Even now? After everything?" I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been. I'd made this entire thing about me and the thought of Blair feeling like crap, tore me into bits.

  "Yeah."

  "We'll work it out. I'll help you work it out."

  She shifted against me, her lips brushing against my neck. "I just...I really want this to work."

  "Fuck, do I ever, wildcat."

  "You better apologize to Joe in the morning," she said. "He's your fucking champion and you punched him in the face."

  "He what?"

  She rose her gaze to meet mine, her hands cupping my face and stared me down like she was trying to make a point. "He's Team West, you stupid idiot. He spent the best part of an hour telling me all the reasons why I shouldn't give up on you just because you're not here."

  "Rea
lly?"

  "Fuck, you're hot, but sometimes you're dumb as dog shit."

  Stifling a surprised laugh, I swooped in for a kiss, forcing her lips apart with my tongue. I took her with all the pain and the lust and the aching that had been building up in me for days and let it consume me. Her fingernails dug into my scalp as she mussed up my hair, the sting only adding to the fire.

  "Tomorrow," I said, pulling away. I really felt like a fucking prick for punching first and not asking any questions. I wondered if there was any photographic evidence, but I was beyond giving a stuff. Joe and I would work it out. We'd been in worse fights and he was the one who usually came out on top.

  "You better, or I'll have your balls."

  "Wildcat, you've already got them."

  This time, she kissed me with everything she had and the spark that had been spluttering, re-ignited with more force than before. We'd almost de-railed, but now we were back on track.

  "After the tour is over, we'll do whatever you want," I whispered against her swollen lips.

  "What about the band?" Her tongue slid across my bottom lip.

  "We're overdue for a break." My hands slipped underneath her T-shirt, fumbling for the clasp of her bra.

  The band had worked non-stop for seven years. Album, tour, tour some more, record another album, tour again. Apart from a week here and there, we'd never had a substantial break. With Blair by my side, now was the perfect time.

  "Whatever I want?" Blair asked, her voice full of suspicion and it made me wonder if anyone had ever cared to give her anything before.

  "Your wish is my command."

  "Those are dangerous words coming from a hot as fuck man."

  It wasn't that long ago I'd said the same words to her the night I'd picked her up in that bar in Melbourne, and the mere thought of that night had me pushing her down onto the bed with a growl.

  With the promise of time, I felt a fuck load better and Blair seemed to be, too. We had something to look forward to after the tour was done. While Blair was in my arms and in my bed, everything seemed better. Everything was better. One day I could even come to love her, if I didn't already. My wildcat was my match in every way. There was no way in hell I was letting her go.

  In the spirit of West and I spending more time together, I sat in one of those leather-like swirly office chairs, watching as Affliction sat at a long table, signing autographs. I hadn't spent much time with Mick or Rob, so it was kinda good to get to know them some more. They were a pair of dirty fucks and every now and then, they'd look over at me and make lewd gestures, trying to see the reaction they could get.

  West had apologized the day after he'd had punched Joe in the face and true to their relationship, it was all sunshine and rainbows in ten seconds flat. That was the kind of friendship I couldn't understand, the unconditional kind, and I found myself slightly jealous but fuck that. Sweet and sour Blair was becoming more and more hard work and I'd come to a point where I left my mask collection at home.

  Spinning around on the chair, my gaze locked with Furlough's as he narrowed his eyes. On my next rotation, I flipped him the bird. We'd never got past the point of frosty and he'd never tried to be nice, so I didn't even bother anymore. He thought I was a thorn in his side? Well, I'd be the biggest nastiest motherfucker there was.

  "Having fun?" he drawled as I glared at him on my third pass.

  "Loads."

  That's when I stopped my spinning and saw West standing with a fan, getting his photo taken. He'd been doing it all afternoon. Selfies, group shots with young girls, women even some men who were huge fans of the band. Every once in a while, an overexcited woman would plant a kiss on his cheek, get him to sign her tits, or pinch his ass, and I'd shoot daggers at the bitch, but this time the woman who had a hold of my Dark and Dangerous had her hands on something that was mine.

  The bitch had her claw of a hand on his cock, pressing her acrylic talons into the crotch of his jeans. If I'd been seeing straight, I might've noticed he was gently pushing her away, but all I saw was someone else's hands on something that was mine.

  I began to rise from my chair, but Joe caught my eye and shook his head. I could read his thoughts and I didn't like it one bit. Don't do anything stupid, Blair. There were cameras and hundreds of fans lined up out there and one stupid move on my part would cause a tsunami of vitriol to last a lifetime.

  "Jealousy will only get you in the shit, Blair," Furlough said from behind. "This is what they do."

  "So you're telling me to suck it up when some bitch grabs my boyfriend's cock?" I turned my glare on him.

  West hadn't exactly pushed any of those women away. Not when they'd pinched his ass or tried to kiss him. Some had even landed their lips right on his. He didn't push them away until one of them blatantly grabbed his cock but I wondered if he'd only done that because I was sitting right here watching him. How many other times had it happened while I was left alone to wait around for him? The burning rage that was growing inside me was alien. Was this how West felt when he'd seen me with Joe? That was just an innocent hug, but the cock-grabbing that was going on right now was in a whole different universe than that.

  Furlough wasn't done with me. "Women will always throw themselves at him because of his reputation. There's no changing it now. He'll be groped and he will grope back."

  I knew he was only trying to piss me off more. He was just waiting for the chance to push me over the edge and break me. Douchey McDouchewad wanted me gone and it seemed like he didn't care how he did it.

  "Eat shit, Furlough," I spat at him and turned to find the woman gone and West back in his seat. Distraction one-oh-one.

  Ten minutes later, when Furlough ended the autograph session, I was still fuming. When West saw the look of rage that was still plastered on my face, he slid his arm around my waist and guided me from the building without a word. I felt another argument brewing and this time I was determined not to let it end with a desperate fuck against some hard surface.

  I said I trusted him, I really thought I did, but right now I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. Something wasn't working. We weren't working and I felt my heart beginning to crack. That's the thing when you start to care, there's always the point where you get hurt. This was what I was trying to avoid that day I saw him on stage in Melbourne. That was what I was running from and he had to be all caring and supportive and make me give a damn.

  Who was I to think I could ever stand on equal footing with Jake fucking West and his string of devoted groupie sluts?

  I sat in that stupid fucking car with him and didn't know what to say. We'd said it time and time again-it was old ground, the stupid shit I was feeling, so what use was there to hash it out again? I didn't like what this was doing to me. It felt like a whole new set of issues had replaced the old and that happiness thing I wanted so much was just a stupid fucking empty dream.

  What was I supposed to do? I had nowhere to go, nowhere to be and nobody to go back to. I looked to my future and without West in it there was nothing but a gaping void.

  There were a lot of things I was running from, but the worst one was that I might have to be the one to walk away from West and this new life I'd been trying to forge for us. This unexplainable thing between us might just have to remain unexplainable. It would be a fond memory, or it would be the one that destroyed me once and for all.

  I stood in the middle of our latest hotel room and didn't know what to do. Had I tried hard enough? Had I tried too much?

  "Wildcat."

  I turned my head slightly and saw that West was behind me. He slid his hands against my waist and despite the aching in my heart, desire began to pool between my legs. I leaned back into him and he pressed his lips into the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of fire up and down my skin.

  "What's wrong?" he murmured into my ear.

  I was struggling big time with the old Blair, so I let her come out, the strength to be tactful flying right out the window. "I can't stand seeing you
touch other women's tits in front of me. It makes me fucking angry."

  "That's just to sign autographs," he said, trying to calm me. "It's part of the gig."

  "Is part of the gig letting them grab your cock?" I pulled away and turned to look him in the eye.

  "Blair…" His gaze was sad, defeated, tired…I couldn't tell.

  "They're basically spreading themselves for you on the spot. Plough me West, plough me with your big fucking cock."

  "Blair, stop it."

  "It's like I don't fucking exist and believe me, I know how ironic that sounds."

  "Where is this coming from?"

  "Even the trash looks at me like I'm beneath them. Don't you think it's ironic that women think it's perfectly fine for men to sleep around and collect diseases and when a fellow woman does it, they look at you like a filthy slut. That's what we call a double standard, West."

  "You think I collect diseases?"

  "Oh, for fuck's sake."

  "Who called you a slut? I sure as fuck didn't."

  "I don't have to hear anyone say it, West. It's in their crazy bitch eyes. To be deemed un-slutty by society, I have to gain sexual satisfaction by way of masturbation behind closed doors and definitely not with random guys."

  "Well," West said, a wicked gleam in his eye, "I'd like to be behind that closed door with you and watch you masturbate." He stuck a finger down the front of my jeans and tugged me toward him. "Watching you touch yourself."

  "West." I pushed him away, pissed as all hell. He wasn't listening. I was mad at him and he was trying to fuck it away?

  "You shouldn't feel threatened by those women, Blair. You have all of me."

  "I can't give myself to you, not a hundred percent."

  "What are you saying?" He stepped back, suddenly getting that I was deadly serious.

  "No one can, West, that's the point. I've given you a huge fucking chunk, but I can't give you everything. That's just how it works."