by Lisa Swallow
In response, Ruby drags a chair and sits opposite me, crossing her skinny legs. The light from the house casts across her face, her red-painted mouth, and the eyes that are the window to a place of hurt we share. She chews one of her short, black-painted nails and meets my scrutiny.
“You’re not what I expected,” she says. “Or you weren’t until you fucked Sara.”
“I didn’t, remember?”
“Only because Bryn interrupted.”
“What did you expect me to be, Ruby?”
“A condescending dick who’d have his hand up my skirt at the first opportunity.”
“I like the band. If I piss you off, I have to start looking all over again.”
“So this isn’t your natural respect for me?”
“Nope. I’m a condescending dick who preys on women.”
“You’re not.”
“Recently.” The turn of the conversation disturbs me and I shift in my chair. Two can play at this. “You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“A strong girl who wouldn’t let a dickhead screw her around.”
Ruby jumps to her feet and the light plastic chair falls over. “Fuck you!” she hisses.
“Wow. Okay. Sorry.” That escalated fucking quickly.
“You don’t know a thing about me!” she continues. “Don’t judge!”
And she’s back, the girl from the shadows gone. I stand too, blown away by the split second shift in mood. “Sure, whatever. But you can’t hide from what’s happening. Not forever.”
Ruby steps closer me, her height in the thick-soled boots places her close to my eye level. “None of your fucking business, Jem Jones.”
I want to grab Ruby’s shoulders and shake common sense in, pull her off the destructive path she’s on. Ruby’s glare softens to confusion and she briefly glances at my mouth before stepping back.
“Leave me alone,” she says quietly, and then heads back to the house.
As she opens the door and the light shines on her, Ruby’s frailty hits me. In her Ruby persona, the weakness is masked behind the attitude. I heave in a breath. I walked the destructive path and I know nobody can pull you off the road you’re destined to take; changing direction is a decision only she can make. I wish I knew who put Ruby on the path she’s on.
“Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday,” I sing softly to myself and laugh.
Chapter Five
Ruby
Tonight I’m home before Dan and cook instead of heating up ready meals from the supermarket. He likes pasta so I make spaghetti and hope he didn’t eat already. Even if Dan has, I’m expected to have a meal ready for him after work.
Tonight I tell Dan; I’m running out of time.
I sit at the table, chewing my nails and jump up as the front door closes. Dan appears and sweeps me into a tight embrace, before he looks over at the boiling water.
“Hey, angel.” He kisses me gently on the mouth. “You cooked, thank you.”
Why does he thank me if I’m in trouble when I don’t?
“I hope it’s okay.”
“Sure it is! Smells good. I’ll get changed.”
I busy myself arranging the bowls and the salad, straightening the cutlery into order and perfection. Dan returns in a clean checked shirt and smart jeans, and sits at the table. I open a beer and place it next to him.
“You spoil me,” he says. “Any reason?”
“No.”
Meal served, I attempt to eat; but the sickly pasta sticks in my throat. Dan eats plenty, always does. He has two more beers in the course of our silent meal and sweat beads along my back. Dan doesn’t need alcohol to make him nasty, but it doesn’t help.
We talk about work, his mainly. He’s a personal trainer at a local gym and a gym is the last place you’d find me. Some days Dan doesn’t have time for his own workout and they’re difficult days because he brings home the frustration with him.
The half hour we eat is excruciating because I try repeatedly to broach the subject but can’t. Even by the time we’re finished and I’m washing dishes, the words still choke me.
“Something’s bothering you, angel, what’s wrong?” Dan asks quietly.
I drop the cup back into the water. “Ruby Riot has another gig this week.” He doesn’t respond and I don’t look round, rubbing soapy bubbles between my fingers. “I don’t want to let the guys down.”
Dan sighs. “You shouldn’t get so involved. You know the band will fall apart soon, you’re pretty crap.”
I turn and rest against the sink. “But Jem Jones…”
At the mention of his name, Dan’s features harden. “Jem Jones. Still telling you you’re talented?”
“Yes,” I say in a meek voice.
“Why?”
“He likes our music.”
Dan flicks his tongue against his teeth. “Has he touched you?”
“No! And I wouldn’t let him.”
“Keep it that way. I don’t know what his game is but seems strange he’s getting involved with a crap band like Ruby Riot.”
Dan stands and approaches me at the sink. I gauge his body language, no anger but some tension. I mentally calculate how I need to behave to lessen the chances of a meltdown.
“I know this means a lot to you, angel, and that’s why I let you join in. But you do know this won’t last forever? If this interferes too much with us - your life here - you’ll have to give it up.”
I grip the sink, cool metal biting my palms. “I know. Like you said if Ruby Riot is no good, things won’t go anywhere so you don’t need to worry.”
“Where’s the gig?”
“Oxford.”
Dan’s forehead creases. “Oxford? What the fuck? When?”
“Friday night.”
“I hope you haven’t said yes!” he growls and pulls his phone from his pocket. “I might be busy.”
“You don’t need to come…” The mistake in those words is apparent when he stiffens.
“You saying you don’t want me there?”
“No, I meant if you were too busy.”
The switch has flicked and even though the calm is on his face, it’s not in the air around. “You don’t want me there.”
“No, Dan, I do, it’s just…”
The darkness sweeps across his face. All it ever takes is one wrong word. Half the time I don’t know which words will be wrong, so I don’t speak. I wince as he grabs my hair. “Which band member are you fucking?”
“Dan, no, I’m not. There’s only you.” His grip tightens and my eyes water. “I wouldn’t.”
“You know you’re mine, right?” He hisses into my ear. “You know without me you’re nothing.” His fingers dig into my arm.
Nothing. Always nothing.
My uncle smacks me across the head and I see the stars that come with the pain. I don’t know what I did wrong. I want my brother to come home but I don’t know where he went.
“You’re fucking useless! Even you mother hated you enough to fuck off and leave you!”
I reach for the stars spinning in front of my eyes and focus on them as the pain hits my back. He’s careful not to touch my face.
If my brother doesn’t come back, I don’t know what I’ll do
“I know, Dan. I’m sorry. I do want you there. I always want you with me.” The lines are so rehearsed now I’m sure one day he’ll realise I’m lying. I think he already does.
I remain trapped in the space with Dan, focusing on breathing and willing him to calm down. Tonight he called me angel. Dan only calls me that when he’s had a good day. I don’t dare meet his eyes, yielding is my best option.
Dan’s grip loosens and he drops my arm to pull out his phone. I hold my breath, waiting for a response and hoping to hell that’s the end of the fight. “Looks like I’m free Friday. We can go.” His voice is light, anger blown away.
Tonight I stay away from the stars.
****
I drop by the boys’ house the ne
xt day on the way to work. An exhausted looking Nate lets me in then sinks back onto the sofa. Looks like they had a typical hard night boozing. The small house is littered with bottles and rubbish, the normally dirty carpet now filthy. I walk into the kitchen, where Will rests against the counter eating a bacon sandwich. He’s shirtless, the beginnings of his latest tattoo, a huge red and black dragon, outlined on his chest. He rubs his bleary eyes as he notices me.
“I came to see Jax; is he around?” I ask.
“In bed still.” I turn and head to the stairs. “Not on his own.”
“Right.” I stomp upstairs.
“No, Ruby! Wait!” calls Will after me through his mouth of food.
I hammer on his door. “Jax! I need to see you.”
No response.
I bang again, maintaining a rhythm until he swears loudly. I hear a low voice of a girl too. Of course.
“Can’t this wait until later?” he calls.
“No! I need something from you.”
The door flies open and Jax stands in his boxers, tousled hair, and toned physique. This guy never looks like shit, even after what was probably a very late finish. “What?”
I resist the urge to look around him to see who his latest conquest is. “I need some cash.”
His eyebrows tug together. “Why?”
“Dan took mine again,” I say in a low voice.
“Shit, Ruby. When are you going to end this?”
“Gonna get me some or not?” I demand.
“Key.” He holds out a hand, palm upward and I pull out my purse. Inside is the small silver key I keep hidden at home. I place it in his hand. “I don’t want her to see.” I indicate the girl behind.
“Oh, sure, so I kick her out of bed and say what? She’s gonna think I cheated on you.”
“Like you give a shit. C’mon, I’m at work in half an hour.”
Jax goes back into the room and I rest against the wood-chipped wall at the top of the stairs. There are raised voices and a few minutes later a blonde girl storms out in crumpled ‘last night’s clothes’ and holding her shoes. She tries a withering look on me but my own expression is enough to stop her saying anything.
“Well that saves an awkward goodbye,” Jax mutters, appearing in his jeans, holding a black tin.
I barge past him into the room. “Jax, please.”
“I’m not doing this much longer, babe.” He unlocks the black metal tin.
“Don’t call me babe.”
“Okay, honey-pie.” Inside the tin rests a pile of banknotes and a piece of paper with a figure written on it. “You’ve almost got enough now, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, apart from I keep having to take from it when he takes my wages.”
“I don’t know why you don’t open a bank account.”
“You know why. Last time Dan found out and took the whole fucking lot.” I pull a few notes from the box. “Soon,” I promise him.
Jax catches my arm where my sleeve has ridden up as I stretched my arm out. He pushes up my jacket. Yellowing bruises mar the skin on my forearm and he inhales as he sees them. “Him?”
I snatch my arm away. “Stay out of this.”
“How the fuck can I? I’m storing money for your escape and I see you several times a week for rehearsals.”
I ignore him and shove the notes into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Have you told him Jem wants to book us some more gigs?” asks Jax.
Jem. My stomach spins at his name. I want to hate him, want him to be the guy I’d formed in my head but he keeps looking at me as if he cares. There’s no getting away from who he is, the face of the man who wrote the music that got me through dark times. I’ve followed his life through the media’s eye, even went to Blue Phoenix gigs so, as with a lot of girls, I closed my eyes and imagined myself with one of the band. When I started playing guitar, Jem became halfway to a hero. Only halfway because as well as being talented, hot as hell, and at the forefront of the band, he’s an asshole.
Or I thought he was. I’m not sure anymore.
Obviously, he’s not an asshole to Ruby Riot but look at him with Sara a few days ago, picking her up like that. No, he might have kicked the drugs; but he’s still Jem Jones. And whatever the weird something that hovers unspoken between us, he’s bad news. Dan is convinced Jem’s motives with the band include wanting to fuck me. Maybe, maybe not. Not going to happen. Jem’s been to three of our gigs so far and when I see the enthusiasm on his face for our sound, I can’t help but surge with pride. Dan’s wrong; we are good. Jem’s approval almost makes me believe I’m worth this. That I can become something special.
Almost.
“No, I haven’t told Dan yet.”
Jax drags a hand through his thick hair. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to back out. Fuck, Ruby.”
“No! No fucking way. He’d have to lock me in a room if he wanted to stop me going.”
What flickers across Jax’s blue eyes scares me. Jax believes that’s a possibility.
Chapter Six
Jem
No Bryn tonight. Things have been tense the last few days; my moods piss him off but people in my face telling me what to do pisses me off. After a couple of weeks of clashing, he’s gone home. Bryn hides it but I can tell he’s surprised at my continuing sobriety.
This leaves me alone with Ruby Riot again.
They’ve played a few gigs over the last month, even going as far afield as Wales and I teased the band that Cardiff counted as a European tour. Liam saw them for the first time when we were over there and I think he was impressed. We were both distracted by chicks that night, haven’t had a real chance to talk to Liam about his opinion. Dan the Dickhead comes with us to every gig. I act as if he isn’t here; the fucker doesn’t know how lucky he is I didn’t smack him that time in the alley. He’s extra loving to Ruby when I’m around, which grates. I’ve seen bruises on Ruby. I tried to talk to her before the gig in Cardiff, but she shut me down. I only tried once; the longing to touch Ruby that seizes my logic whenever she’s close means staying well away is the only option.
Each time I watch Ruby perform, every second I spend around her, the harder it is to shut her out. There’s something about this talented, too tempting woman with her strange personas. The make-up and ink hide some of who she is, the first line of defence against the world. If that doesn’t work in keeping people out, Ruby’s foul mouth and attitude are turned full volume. Thing is, this doesn’t work with me. I can outmatch her because I’ve had years more practice than she has. So when her defences fail, Ruby’s lost around me and retreats to a third persona. Not Ruby, not Tuesday, but somebody fighting to find her way through. I catch glimpses of this girl; I suspect I’m the only one who does. Every time this Ruby appears, she backtracks as if she can’t allow her to be seen, and definitely not around me. The hidden girl is the one I’m freefalling toward, the other girl of my dreams. Dreams about Ruby meld with the nightmares about Liv and that fucking terrifies me.
The frustration with the situation doesn’t help when the band piss me off too. I book Ruby Riot a decent sized venue they’d never play if it weren’t for my influence, and they refuse to give me a definite yes until two days before. Apparently, Ruby hasn’t felt well the last couple of weeks and they were waiting to see how she is before committing.
Bullshit.
The reason is with them now; Dan the Dickhead watching everyone set up the equipment, keeping Ruby in sight. In line. Under control. I don’t get it, can’t figure out how this sharp, smart girl allows her life to be dominated by someone else. Why the fuck do women do this?
Not my problem. I can’t fix them. The mantra continues, but weakens.
Jax corners me as usual, his hero-worship flattered at first but is bordering on annoying now. He wants to show me a new song he’s written and asks for input. Jax is determined, the driving force behind the band and reminds me of myself. A less fucked up version. Jax seems to have his head screwed on the r
ight way, probably had a calmer start in life. I relent and give him the nod to show me. I guess I annoyed the crap out of people pushing Blue Phoenix onto everyone back in the day.
Jax drinks from a bottle of water. He’s learned I’ll pay more attention if he keeps alcohol away from me, then plays what he’s written and I’m impressed. He’s a talented guy.
“I’m going to sort you guys a tour then some studio time,” I tell him.
Jax’s face transforms from rock-star cool to open-mouthed astonishment. “Fucking serious?”
“Yeah. We need a proper set of tracks to play Steve. The couple of songs you have on Bandcamp aren’t enough. We gotta get you out there.” I pause. “Needs a bit more commitment though.”
“Fuck, yeah! I’ll drop everything - time out for a few days.”
“Not just you. You’ve got to all be able to commit.”
Jax nods vigorously. “We’re committed.”
“Ruby?” I set down my guitar. “And her ‘health problems’.”
The sharp look he gives me is an exchange of understanding. “She’ll be cool. She wants this as much as the rest of us.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I pause. Shouldn’t get involved. “What’s going on with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ruby. Cool chick, ballsy but she doesn’t look well. Is she using? That’d be a deal-breaker for me.”
“No,” says Jax firmly. “We don’t. None of us.”
“She looks ill.”
“She’s had a tough time the last few years.”
Not going there. “Okay. Obviously not a healthy lifestyle though.”
Again, a look passes from Jax, the need to know but not want to hear. “She’s trying to change the things in her life doing damage, but it’s tough for her.”
“Yeah?”
Jax sets down his drink. “Listen, Jem, I keep out where I need to and help where I can. Don’t push this. It’s complicated and not our business. I’ve tried to help but she won’t let me.”
“She’s your friend.”
“Yeah and how fucking frustrating do you think it is? But what can I do? I’m there when she needs, if she needs. You? As soon as it interferes with your project, step in. Otherwise back off,” says Jax then stands. “I need to help set up before Will gets the shits with me.”