by Grey, Priya
“Alright,” I reply. I don’t see how that will be much of a problem. As long as I get paid, and Shane gets his money, that’s all that matters.
“There’s something else I would like to discuss,” says Suzie. “Melody wants you exclusively.”
“What do you mean?”
“That you engage in your um… activities with her, and only her. You lose all your other clients.”
I shake my head. “Nah. That can’t happen.”
Suzie moves forward and whispers, “She’s willing to pay handsomely for the privilege of being your only client.”
“Really?” I say somewhat surprised.
Suzie nods and continues to speak in a hushed tone. “It appears you’ve made quite an impression on her. You see, Mr?”
“Kade.”
“Well, Mr. Kade – ”
“Not Mr. Kade. Just Kade.”
“What?” She looks at me confused.
“My name is Kade.”
“Well, Kade, whatever you did to her the other night really made an impact. That song she was writing, while you were leaving…”
“Yeah. It was good,” I say.
“Very good.” Suzie agrees with a nod and smile. She leans back in her chair and takes another sip of coffee. She eyes me and says, “Melody hasn’t written a song in over a year. And she’s convinced that you had something to do with her breakthrough.”
“Me?” I say, surprised.
“I tried convincing her that it’s the puppy,” says Suzie with a shrug. “But she insists it’s you. She wants to keep seeing you. She thinks you might inspire her to write more songs.”
“And she wants to keep fucking, right?”
Suzie lowers her head and shakes it. “Please, keep your voice down.”
I apologize, even though I don’t think anyone is listening to us.
Suzie clears her throat. “Yes. She wants to continue to engage in those… um… activities… with you.”
I take a sip of coffee and lean back in the booth. I’m surprised by the offer. I didn’t see any of this coming. “Well, to engage in those activities on an exclusive basis won’t come cheap,” I tell her. “How long does she want to see me?”
Suzie shrugs. “Depends on how long it takes her to write an album.”
“Seriously?”
Suzie nods.
“Well, how long does that take, usually?”
Suzie shrugs again and takes another sip of coffee. “You can’t really put a time table on creativity,” she replies. “We were thinking we would put you on a monthly retainer. Whenever Melody needs you, she calls you. Would one hundred thousand dollars a month be sufficient?”
I nearly spit out my coffee. If Melody takes six months to write her album, I’ll be able to pay off my entire debt to Shane. I force myself to act cool. The one thing I’ve learned from dealing with Shane is: never take the first offer.
“I was thinking something closer to one-fifty,” I say, trying to keep my enthusiasm hidden while desperately hoping I’m not blowing the deal.
Suzie shrugs. “How about we just agree to two hundred thousand a month, and everyone’s happy.”
My jaw nearly drops. “That works,” I say with a slow nod. I’m trying to act like it’s no big deal. But inside me, my heart is pounding like a sledgehammer.
“Great,” says Suzie. She reaches into her purse and takes out a stack of papers. She plops them on the table between us.
“What’s this?”
“A non-disclosure,” she says, pushing the papers toward me. “By signing it, you agree to never tell anyone about your relationship with her. Otherwise, we can take you to court and sue you until you’re dead broke. And there’s something else in addition to the non-disclosure.”
“What?” I ask as I flip through the pages.
“Melody wants you to get tested.”
“STDs?”
Suzie nods. “If you’re clean, she would like to move forward in your activities without protection.”
I shrug. “For two hundred thousand a month, that won’t be a problem.”
“Good,” says Suzie. “Now give me your phone number. That way we can contact you directly. You can drop off the contract the next time you and her meet.”
After I give her my cellphone number, she gets up from the table. She swings her purse over her shoulder.
“You’re not eating breakfast?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I had a green juice.” She lowers her glasses and shoots me a curious look. “You’re hot, I’ll give you that. But for two hundred thousand, you better be amazing in the sack.” She pushes her sunglasses up the ridge of her nose. “Melody will be in touch.” Then, she walks out of the restaurant.
As I flip through the pages of the contract, the waitress appears with my French toast.
“Eating alone?” she asks.
“Looks that way,” I reply. “But listen, would you mind putting in an order for the Heavy Man special.”
The waitress gives me a smirk. “Hungry, huh?”
“I’ve been starving for years,” I say with a grin. “Now, I can finally feed myself.”
“Coming right up, sweetie,” She walks toward the kitchen and places my order.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I drop down on the mat and look up at the kid. Luke, one of my trainers, has him in a triangle choke, one of the best submissions move in MMA fighting. The kid, whose name is Rico, recently joined my gym and doesn’t know what to do now that he’s trapped. His head is locked between three limbs – his arm and Luke’s two legs.
“Now in this position,” I tell the kid. “Once Luke has your legs locked, he can start applying pressure. If you don’t tap out, you’ll lose consciousness.”
Rico taps out. Luke releases him from the hold.
“So, I’m basically fucked,” says Rico, as he stands up and catches his breath.
I shake my head. “Not necessarily. If you keep calm and you’re quick enough, you can find a way out of it. Let me show you.”
I motion Luke to step forward. I bend down, and he places me in a triangle choke. I begin my instruction.
“You have a lot more options before he locks his legs in place. But let’s say you’re caught off guard. Lock your legs, Luke.” Luke locks his legs behind my neck. “Now, there still might be a way out of it. The important thing is to relax your muscles and breathe. When you’re not clear headed, you’re fucked. See how Luke has me bent forward?”
“Yeah,” says Rico.
“Well, what I’m going to do is take my trapped arm, move it forward, and place it on the opposite side of his head. Then, I’m going to come up on my feet and drive forward.” I nod to Luke, signaling my move. I raise myself onto my feet. “Then, I’m going to take my knee and drive it into the side of his hip.” I perform the move in slow motion so Rico can follow. “Then, I step over his head with my leg and spin my whole body to the far side of his head. I wrap my arm around his neck and turn him flat on his back. Now, I’m in control.”
“That’s awesome,” says Rico, surprised by my ability to maneuver out of the position and gain the advantage.
I release Luke from the side mount, and we both stand up. “Thanks, Luke.”
“No problem, boss.”
Someone claps behind me. I turn and see Shane staring at us. His two bodyguards, Vince and Leo, are with him. I nod.
Shane points at Rico and grins. “You better be paying attention, kid. Kade could have been one of the greatest if life hadn’t gotten in the way.”
I turn to Rico and say, “Alright, that’s enough for today. See you Wednesday.”
I step off the mat and approach Shane.
“What’s up?”
“Same old shit,” he says.
I nod to Vince and Leo. “What’s up, fellas?” They both just stare at me.
Shane motions me to follow him. We head to my office. Vince and Leo stay outside as I close the door.
“Those two don’t ta
lk much,” I remark.
“I don’t pay them to talk,” says Shane. “I don’t even think Leo speaks English. Not even Spanish. He’s Russian. I’m not sure he even speaks that from what I can tell. I think he’s an idiot, or a mute, or both. Nevertheless, he’s a badass motherfucker. I saw him gouge a guy’s eyes with his bare fingers then choke him to death. That’s the kind of guy you want on your side.”
“What about Vince?” I ask.
Shane shrugs. “He’s shy. Lets his gun do most of the talking.”
“Good to know,” I reply as I approach my desk. I slide open a drawer and remove an envelope. I hand it to Shane.
Shane sits a hip on my desk and begins counting his money.
He shoots me a look. “You’re short a G,” he says.
“Yeah, I know. When I got there, she said all she could pay me was a thousand. I figure some money was better than no money.”
I don’t want to tell Shane about my meeting with Suzie and the agreement we came to regarding Melody, not until everything has been set in stone and I know the money is legit. I’m lucky Melody overpaid me by a thousand dollars on my first visit, because I would have had a hard time explaining to Shane how I met with Suzie but came back with nothing. There’s only one thing Shane cares about these days: and that’s money.
He closes the envelope and slaps it against his hip. He stands up from my desk. He’s clearly annoyed he hasn’t gotten the full amount.
“Alright, but don’t let it happen again. We’re not running a fuckin’ charity here. If these bitches want your cock, they’re going to have to pay for it.”
I nod.
Shane places the envelope in his jacket pocket. I notice he’s wearing another fine tailored suit that probably cost him more than two grand. The sparkling watch around his wrist probably cost five times that. If you saw him on the street, you’d probably think Shane was an investment banker and not one of LA’s biggest gangsters.
I think Shane helped with Max’s medical bills to even the score between us. It’s crazy to think we were childhood friends, or that I took a bullet meant for him when we were kids. Now that we’re older, Shane’s grown colder. I guess you don’t rise to his position in the underground world by being sentimental.
I suspect Shane has ordered some hits in his life. It wouldn’t surprise me if he even did some of the killing himself. He was never the type to shy away from the dirty business of street life. He never talks about that with me, though. The less I know, the better.
“How you feeling?” he asks.
I shrug. “Alright.”
“How’s the leg? Back to normal?”
I nod. I don’t have the range of motion I had before it snapped in the fight. But I’m mobile enough.
“You feel like kicking some ass?” Shane asks. I see a glint in his eye.
I cock an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
Shane walks past me and takes a seat in the chair behind me. He plops his shiny black shoes on my desk. I guess technically, it’s his desk, since he owns the gym now. That was part of the deal I made with him when he paid for Max’s treatment. Now, I only get paid a small stipend to train people.
“I’m talking about you fighting this Saturday,” he says. “Marco pulled out.”
Marco is one of the guys I train. He’s a good fighter. This weekend he was supposed to face Mitch Cork, an Irish dude, in one of Shane’s underground matches. It’s taking place at a warehouse in Venice.
“What happened?”
Shane shrugs. “His mom passed away. Says he can’t fight. You want in?”
I shake my head. “That only gives my five days to train. Remember what happened last time?”
Shane points his finger at me. “What happened last time was that your mind wasn’t on the fight but on your boy, Max.”
Whenever someone speaks his name, I feel a rush of anguish charge through me. I take a breath and fight back the overwhelming feeling. “Yeah,” I say with a nod.
“You don’t have that on your mind anymore,” says Shane as tactfully as he can. “Kade, when I told that runt out there that you could have been one of the greatest, I wasn’t lying. It’s too bad you had to take care of your boy because that bitch skipped town on you. That’s why you started this gym, right? So you could be around for Max. You put being a father above your career, which I honestly think was a dumb move.”
I’m unable to speak. I’m fighting back the remorse running through me.
Shane stands up, oblivious to what I’m going through. “Well, now that he’s gone, let’s get you back to fighting. You still got some fighting years in that body of yours.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I mutter.
“Let me decide if it’s a good idea, alright,” Shane says. He stares at me. He’s thinking something then sighs. “How about this?” he eventually says. “You fight this weekend, and a couple of the other fights I got lined up, and I’ll knock a hundred grand off what you owe me.”
I’m stunned by his proposal.
If my deal with Melody checks out, and Shane keeps his word, I’ll be debt free much sooner than I expected. I won’t be Shane’s whore anymore. I’ll finally be a free man.
“You’re serious? A hundred grand off my debt?”
Shane slowly nods. “Fight this weekend and a couple of others I got lined up.”
The thought of being debt free is an opportunity I can’t pass up.
“Can I get the word out that you’re fighting this Saturday?” Shane asks.
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
He slaps my back and heads toward the door.
“Just one thing,” I tell him as he’s about to leave.
He turns around.
“I can’t do any sessions for the website this week. I’ve only got five days to train.”
Shane hesitates for a moment. I can tell he doesn’t like my request but agrees.
“Fine, but you better win, Kade. Cause now you’re costing me money.”
He opens the door and motions to Vince and Leo that it’s time to go.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As I listen to the playback on the last song I recorded, I realize I’m breaking new ground. The lyrics are more thoughtful, the music more ambitious. The label probably won’t like the direction I’m heading in. I assume they want something more pop-like.
Randy says I’m contracted to deliver an album of at least twelve songs. The contract doesn’t mention that the label has to like them. So, if that’s the case, I don’t have to write songs that I think will be popular. I can spend my time writing songs that I actually think are good.
These last couple of days, the songs have just been pouring out of me. I’m spending most of my days and nights in my home studio, recording myself playing the piano, strumming guitar, and layering in beats. I’ve just finished song number five and I really like it. I’ll listen to it again tomorrow. I just have to remind myself not to tinker on the song as much as I used to.
I’ve always been a perfectionist.
And when it comes to my music, I inevitably hear mistakes. Good is never good enough. A song can always be made to sound better. After the accident, my therapist, Jeannie, said that was something I needed to work on. I needed to stop chasing perfection and just let things be. At first, I thought she was talking about my appearance. But now I realize it might also apply to my music. After all, sometimes it’s the minor imperfections in a song that make it memorable. Maybe Jeannie wasn’t a terrible therapist after all. Too bad I fired her.
I step out of my recording studio and make my way to the piano in my living room. At the piano is where I usually discover a song. Taking a seat, I begin playing with the keys and close my eyes. I let myself settle into the moment, into my own breath. I treat this like a form of mediation. I don’t force anything to come; I just let whatever wants to bubble to the surface make its way to my fingertips or my lips.
What flashes through my inner landscape are im
ages of Kade. My lips curl into a smile as I remember his face, his body. That fella was exactly what the doctor ordered. He’s hot, dark and mysterious: a killer combination. And most importantly, he knew how to be with a woman. He knew how to stay in the moment, and be just the right amount of rough. The sex wasn’t mechanical. It didn’t feel like he was auditioning for a porn movie, which is the case with a lot of the young studs today. It was passionate, hot and dirty. While we were fucking, I got the impression Kade actually appreciated my body, like he wanted to savor it and not just fuck. With all these damn scars, I wasn’t expecting that at all. I’m still surprised by how comfortable I felt in his presence, especially when I was naked, my scars in plain sight. There’s more to this guy than just a tough exterior and a ripped body. He has presence, depth.
Suzie tried to convince me it was Mingus that brought forth my recent inspiration. I have to admit, I like having Mingus in my life. But I know deep down that cuddly puppy isn’t the reason for my creative spurt. It’s Kade. His presence awoke something in me. After having sex with him, I felt like a woman again and not the victim of a horrible accident. I know I can never go back to being the old Melody, but Kade’s alpha energy woke me up. He brought forth a desire that made me realize I’m still living, breathing, flesh. I’m still horny and desire a man’s touch. Kade fucked me with care and made me grateful to still be alive. After months of contemplating suicide, that’s a big fuckin deal.
Now, if I could just get the courage to leave this house and face the world again… Baby steps, Melody.
I play with the piano keys a bit more then open my eyes. I glance at the television hanging on the wall and am surprised to see my face on TV. Not my new face, but the pre-accident version of me. I marvel at my unblemished skin, my perfect nose and chin, my luscious lips.
Damn, I used to be hot.
I reach for the remote resting on the piano and un-mute the television.
“It’s been more than a year since pop sensation, Melody Swanson, has been seen in public,” comments the entertainment news anchor. “After suffering a horrifying car crash, sources say she’s turned into a recluse and refuses to leave her Hollywood Hills mansion. But it appears the reclusive star is taking in some late-night visitors. Recent photos show a mysterious man visiting Melody’s mansion late at night and not leaving until early the following morning. Who is he? Call into our station if you have any leads. Because like we always say here at StarCentral: ‘You have a right to know’.”