Metal Urge

by Wilbourn, E. D.

  Deanna nodded, feeling sick to her stomach.

  “It's all part of life on the road,” Penny shrugged. “I've heard that road managers, even record companies, ply bands with drugs and women to keep the myth alive.” Penny sat down and patted Deanna's arm. “Being on the road is like living some mad fantasy. Tearing up hotel rooms, getting so wasted they don't know what city they're in. And the women...,” Penny shook her head. “Musicians shag groupies. It goes with the territory, lovey.” She smiled ruefully and walked to the door, sighing heavily at the look of sick terror on Deanna's face. “Tales of rock bands’ sexual exploits keep their silly male fans coming back for more. You’ve seen them Deanna; legions of pathetic, spotty lads hoping against hope that it'll be them up there on that stage someday just minutes away from the best blow job they've ever had.” Penny tried to smile with assurance at her poor, guileless friend. “Don’t worry, Deanna. Thom’s a married man now, yeah? That’s bound to keep him on the straight and narrow. I mean, he’ll get lonely and all…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed Deanna’s frantic gaze, and with an apologetic shrug, Penny left the bedroom.

  Was Penny right? Deanna chewed on a nail as she imagined those predatory little whores waiting in the wings to pleasure her handsome husband. Of course Thom would get lonely on the road. All he’d have is a few memories of their last days together. Those painfully brief hours couldn’t possibly keep him warm and satisfied for long. Could he really resist the temptation? Deanna jumped up and paced the small bedroom. He was leaving for Glaston Hall in the morning to record Metal Urge’s new single. The worst part was that they would have only one day together after he returned from Wild Bill's Shropshire estate before leaving for America where the band would spend two months touring. It might as well be two thousand months. As the endless days dragged by it would begin to feel like an eternity. She felt the loneliness creeping in and settling inside her like an unwelcome guest. This was only the beginning: Metal Urge would record their second album after Christmas, and Andy Trent had promised them a world tour opening for some as yet un-named super group. Thom told her that could mean ten or twelve months on the road.

  Maybe marrying a musician wasn’t the greatest idea.

  How could Penny take it all in stride? She was going on the road with Jayson, that's how. Tears threatened to betray Deanna's resolve to stay calm and trust Thom. With shaking hands, she wiped her eyes and pushed back her long hair. God, how she wished he was a banker, or a window washer...anything but the lead guitarist in an up and coming metal band headed for the road and an endless parade of hot girls hungry for sex with a gorgeous musician.

  ****

  Nigel struggled out of bed, put on his dressing gown and answered the knock on his bedroom door. He was momentarily angered when he saw Maggi standing in the hall wringing her hands, dressed in jeans and a cropped T-shirt, hair tousled and looking about twelve years old.

  “What do you want?” He growled.

  “Can I come in and talk to you for a minute? Please?”

  “Bad idea,” he mumbled but stepped aside so she could slip past. “Where's Nick?” he asked, remaining by the door to stay as far away from her as possible.

  “He’s at a meeting with Beastrage and Andy Trent.”

  She looked close to tears which made his heart race with the awful memory of what had happened the last time she cried in front of him. “I think you should leave.”

  She held her hands out beseechingly, “Please Nigel, I need to talk to you about something really important.”

  Since Nick wasn’t there he thought it was a good idea to head for the living room. He started down the hall, hearing Maggi trailing behind him. Waiting until she was seated, Nigel sat in a chair across from her and folded his arms. “Get on with it, yeah?”

  “I know I have no right to ask anything of you but…” Tears started to roll down her flushed cheeks. “It’s just that I don’t want Nick to find out what happened between us, you know?”

  “And why is that?”

  Maggi tried to wipe the tears away with a hand that was less than steady. Nigel narrowed his eyes at her dramatic show of emotion and tossed a box of tissues to her.

  “Thanks,” she sniffed.

  “Just tell me whatever the fuck it is that’s got you crying those bloody crocodile tears so I can get back to bed.”

  “They’re not crocodile tears,” she whimpered, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I…I finally understand what Deanna meant when she said she loved you more than anyone or anything on this earth. I feel that way about Nick, and I don’t ever want to lose him. If he knew about us…”

  She might as well have sucker-punched him in the gut when she repeated what Deanna had said about him. When? When had she said it? It had to have been a bloody long time ago because now she was Thom’s wife, and the thought plunged a knife straight into his heart. The dreadful pain made him want to lash out and hurt someone, anyone, and Maggi deserved his rage. “You're such a slag,” he snapped. “While Trevor rots in rehab, you conveniently run into Nick, luring him in with sex. Now you have the bollocks to say you love him like you've never loved anyone else.” Nigel began to laugh while Maggi stared at him incredulously. “What a hypocritical twat you are,” Nigel sneered launching himself out of the chair as Maggi ran after him.

  “Please Nigel. Please don’t tell Nick. I do love him! So very much.”

  Nigel stopped abruptly, turning slowly to face Maggi with a look that made her back away from him quickly. “I don’t give a toss that you say you love him. He should rid himself of you before your evil destroys him.” Nigel's gaze traveled over her, his expression filled with disgust. “It won’t be me who tells him what a lying, back-stabbing bitch you are. You’re bound to muck up the relationship yourself. You can’t help it; you’re fucking rubbish.”

  Stunned by Nigel’s vicious outburst, Maggi ran back to Nick’s bedroom and grabbed her purse, leaving the flat in a hurry. She couldn’t let Nick see her in such a state. He'd want to know what was going on, and Nigel might decide to tell him the details of their fling right in front of her just for the pleasure of destroying her and Nick’s relationship. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he was acting like a total psycho and she didn’t want to be in the flat with him for one more second.

  Nigel slammed the door to his bedroom, chest heaving with rage and pain. He could only imagine how that bitch would react if she knew Deanna had married Thom. He'd never hear the end of it as she wallowed gleefully in his helplessness and anguish. He threw himself on the bed, pulled out a bottle of Vodka from his nightstand, and took a hefty swig. It had taken half of that bottle to fall asleep; now he was wide awake thanks to Maggi. As he downed a good portion of the leftover Vodka, the throbbing ache in his heart mocked him, the pain indescribable. How in bloody hell was he supposed to get it together before that bollocks recording session at Glaston Hall? That bloody session would bring him face to face with Thom McCordy, Deanna’s new husband, and there wasn’t one sodding thing he could do about it. “Maggi! You fucking slag!” he yelled and took another drink. Laying back on the pillow he let the hot tears come, not bothering to swipe them off of his face. Deanna had loved him once and he pushed her away. Now she was his old mate's wife. He turned over and clutched the pillow, sobbing out his grief for the first time in six long years.

  Chapter 33

  Heathrow airport was crowded with tourists and Brits on their way for one last holiday in Spain or the Maldives to escape the British Isles rapidly dropping temperatures. Some of the members of Metal Urge and Beastrage lounged in the cozy seats watching the waves of people roll by while a few of them drank a pint or two in one of the over-crowded lounges to pass the time before their flight to New York City.

  Thom strode into the waiting area holding Deanna’s hand. He led her to a couple of seats situated a few rows from Nigel and Brad so they could have some privacy. He hated the thought of leaving her on her own for two months, but she was b
ack in school and working long hours at the hotel as well. After missing most of her summer school classes and being granted a second chance to slip back into the College Dean’s good graces, she couldn’t afford even a day or two away. It was bloody unfair---they’d had only a scant few days together since the wedding. Two long months of waking up without her, craving her beautiful smile, the sound of her voice, the feel of her warm body and loving embrace; it was inconceivable. His heart and soul felt windswept and barren although she was still here by his side. Draping his arm around her shoulders he pulled her close and lost himself in her sweet, gentle softness while she nestled against him, talking quietly about last minute concerns, and going over his itinerary to make sure she knew where he was on any given day.

  Sudden movement brought him back to the harsh, noisy reality of the overly crowded airport as Nigel got up, shot him a filthy look, and sauntered into the nearest lounge. No doubt Nigel would get good and pissed in an effort to ward off his overwhelming desire to beat his old mate to a bloody pulp. There would be no talk of rekindling their flagging friendship now. Once that plane jetted its way into the cloudy, blue heavens, Metal Urge would be on their way to landing smack dab on the Yank’s unsuspecting heads. It would be their job to kick the American’s arses so hard and heavy they’d never be able to forget the best metal band England had to offer. Looking at Deanna he sighed softly. No matter how satisfying it would be to conquer the States, it wouldn’t take the sting out of leaving her behind. He leaned over and kissed her temple, nuzzling her soft skin with his lips. “I’m gonna miss you, baby.”

  “I’m going to miss you too,” she said, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “I wish I could go with you.”

  “Next time, yeah?”

  “Yeah, next time,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears.

  When the loudspeakers announced it was time to board, Deanna clung to Thom, crying softly. He cupped her face, kissing her lovingly, feeling tears stinging his eyes. “I’ll call you as soon as I get to New York.”

  She nodded and held on to him until he gently pulled away. As soon as he disappeared through the gate, she ran over to the window to watch him board the plane from the tarmac. A soft tap on her shoulder startled her. When she turned around, Nigel took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. His mouth tasted of whiskey, and his breath was warm on her neck as he nibbled the skin just below her ear lobe whispering “it isn‘t over.” Before she could push him away, he looked into her eyes, his expression somber. “I love you, Deanna. I always have even though I lacked the guts to admit it. Forgive me for being such a bloody spineless fool.”

  “No,” she moaned, but he didn’t hear her as he staggered away towards the gate, the stewardess scolding him for being late.

  Andy was practically running into the waiting area when he spotted Nigel grinning lopsidedly at the beleaguered stewardess. He grabbed the inebriated singer’s arm and steered him towards the gate as Nigel turned and looked one last time at Deanna’s tear-streaked face before vanishing through the boarding gate doors.

  “That son of a bitch!” Deanna hissed as the limo whisked her back to Chelsea. She was so upset she couldn’t even enjoy the luxurious ride. She rummaged around in the built-in bar and took out a bottle of Tanqueray gin, a can of ginger ale and some ice. She mixed the drink and drank it down quickly, trying to quell her raging emotions. Damn him, damn him, damn him! The drunken bastard kissed her just to humiliate and torment her. She had half a mind to tell Thom---screw whatever happened to the band.

  She knocked back four more shots of Tanqueray straight from the bottle cringing at the memory of Nigel’s slurred words. He loved her…the vile, drunken, lying prick. Nigel Guilford was wrong. It was over. If he came near her again his position as lead singer of Metal Urge would be over too. She would see to it.

  ****

  Thom called as promised, his spirits high. Deanna didn’t have the heart to tell him what had happened with Nigel. Partly because she didn’t want to hurt the band and partly because five Tanqueray shots had mellowed her temper, leaving her practically numb. She listened as he talked excitedly about the posh tour bus, and how much he looked forward to their first show in Hoboken. He sounded so proud when he announced that almost every show was sold out. Once “Beyond the Darkness” received some radio play, he said it was almost guaranteed that all of the shows would sell out. She tried to be happy for Metal Urge but Nigel’s despicable, alcohol-fueled behavior still made her stomach lurch and burn.

  After saying how much they loved each another they reluctantly ended the call, leaving Deanna feeling almost as empty and alone as she felt when she lost her baby. Calling to Mims, who bounded into the room and onto her lap, made her feel less anxious and lonely. She cuddled the purring cat, grateful for the warmth of her abundant fur, and her scratchy little tongue as Mims licked her hand. Carrying Mims to the bedroom, she undressed quickly and burrowed under the covers while Mims settled onto her corner of Thom’s pillow. Deanna scooted over and rested her head on his pillow, the lingering fragrances of his shampoo and aftershave relaxing her. The soft rumble of Mims contented purr vibrated through the down pillow lulling her into a deep, restful sleep until the phone jolted her awake. She peered at the clock which read nine a.m. before picking up the handset.

  A rough, weary voice crackled over the line, “I’m sorry, Deanna. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Not like that.

  “Nigel?”

  “Please listen to me, Deanna. I need…”

  “Are you insane?” She shouted into the phone. “How dare you call, especially after what you did to me at the airport! You had no right.”

  “I know I didn’t.”

  “What part of “leave me alone” don’t you get? How about “I’m married?” Is that serious enough to penetrate your thick, stupid, alcoholic skull?”

  Nigel paused for a moment before blurting out, “Please listen to me, love. I need you to know that I made the worst mistake of my life when I broke up with you. I told myself that I had good reason, but I was wrong…so bloody wrong.”

  Deanna couldn’t help but laugh with disbelief. “It’s a little late for remorse don’t you think?”

  “You don’t love him.”

  The phone felt red hot in her hand as shock and anger came boiling to the surface. “You arrogant, narcissistic, bastard! Who the hell do you think you are?” She was ready to slam the phone in his ear when she heard him sigh.

  “I felt the love between us the night we kissed at the club, and I know you felt it too. I’m not trying to be arrogant, Deanna, just honest.”

  “My God, Nigel! You’re completely delusional!”

  Nigel knew he was balancing precariously on the proverbial fine line but he needed the final proof. “Tell me that you don’t love me. Just say the words, Deanna.” When she didn’t respond he said quietly, “I need to hear you say it.”

  Unable to control herself, Deanna shouted into the handset, her voice rising like a banshee’s wail, “Leave me the hell alone or I swear I’ll tell Thom that you’re harassing me. I will make sure that you get your sorry ass thrown out of Metal Urge! Did you hear that, Nigel Guilford?” She slammed the headset down so hard it cracked.

  Nigel rubbed his ringing ear, smiled with relief, and lay back on the comfortable hotel bed.

  He despised upsetting Deanna, but he was fighting for her love, and it was proving to be a bloody battle. Admittedly he had gone too far at the airport; he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted her so badly it made him do mad, impulsive things. If he thought falling to his knees, groveling at her feet, and begging for another chance would work then he would gladly do it. It hardly mattered that he was playing a dangerous game---she was Thom’s wife now---but he didn’t care. He knew in his soul that she didn‘t love Thom. Their marriage was a sham. Even after he gave her the chance to do so, she hadn’t denied loving him. In his mind that meant he still had a fighting chance. “Sorry, Thom,” he said under his breath. H
e never believed that he would love again yet against all odds he had fallen for Deanna. There was no way he was going let her go without a fight no matter what the consequences.

  Chapter 34

  The two bands were three weeks into the “Feel the Urge” tour when they rolled into the industrial city of Flint, Michigan. The musicians felt right at home as they passed the belching smokestacks of General Motors, Flint’s largest factory which employed almost eighty thousand men and women churning out cookie cutter Oldsmobile Cutlasses’ for middle class Americans.

  The entourage pulled onto the campus of the University of Michigan-Flint where they would be performing in the student activities hall---the smallest building on campus. No one really cared: a concert was a concert whenever and wherever people gathered to listen to music. Thom took the opportunity to approach Nigel while the other band members went with Andy to meet the college Dean, the faculty, and maintenance personnel who would help make the gig run smoothly. Both he and Nigel were content with the others taking on the challenge of planning, negotiations, and stage set-up. He just wanted to play his music and move on to the next show. Apparently Nigel felt the same way. Thom thought it was the perfect time to call a truce while making an effort to put aside their hard feelings.

  “Oi, mate,” he said to Nigel, who was lounging in his tiny “bedroom” thumbing through a rock music magazine.

  Nigel looked up, eyebrows raised, wondering if Thom was there as friend or foe.

  “I need to talk to you and its quite important, yeah?”

  Nigel tossed the magazine aside and sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “About that Thom…I’m really sorry,” he lied. He wasn’t sorry, not one bit. “I was way out of line. I should’ve told you straight away instead of waiting for Deanna to tell you.” Nigel shrugged trying to look properly shame-faced. “Look mate, I had no right to kiss her, yeah? I was falling down pissed and it just happened. You know what a bloody stupid prat I am when I’m drunk.”