His Ex-Boyfriend

by Avis Black

  He looked down at his hand. He knew he shouldn't do it.

  He pocketed the leaf anyway, picked up his helmet, and shut the door behind him. This theft might cost Rafe his happiness. Yet this theft might also free Rafe from Alexis. Jason could then fuck his ex-boyfriend at his leisure, as long as Amanda didn't find out about it. He'd have his revenge over his rival, if he could win Rafe back permanently. He could have everything he wanted, if he could just talk Amanda into being reasonable.

  Jason didn't want to do evil, didn't intend to be evil, but the guitarist was in the throes of the dirtiest, most selfish thoughts he'd ever had. Post-coital, his own desires matched Rafe's exactly. Even as he walked down the hall, he felt the deepening sexual throb. He wanted his ex-boyfriend more than he had two years ago, wanted him with insane carnal greed.

  Fuck yes, a thousand times a thousand.

  The apartment door opened once again that night. Rafe was still asleep on the couch, lying on his side. Alexis stood watching a moment, then his alarmed eyes noticed the one strange thing inside the room--the vase of roses. Beautiful, long-stemmed roses, resting in clear crystal.

  The singer's feet moved across the carpet, absolutely noiseless. There seemed to be no card. With growing terror, Alexis looked around and saw the broken chain on the floor. He dropped to his knees and crawled forward, feeling blindly in front of himself. When he found the chain, he ran it through his fingers over and over, searching for the leaf.

  It wasn't until Alexis had felt under a half-dozen pieces of furniture, coming up with only handfuls of dust, that he broke completely. He sat on the floor holding the chain against his chest, rocking, crying in absolute silence.

  Eventually, he stood. After a glance at the sleeping Rafe, the singer left the apartment. The door shut behind him softly, so Rafe wouldn't wake.

  Out in the hallway, the samurai sword rang as Alexis unsheathed it. A savage yank pulled a hair from his scalp, and he watched closely as he tested the edge of the blade. The hair split in two with the slightest pressure. Then he slammed the weapon back into its housing.

  The hunt for Jason North had begun.

  Chapter 14

  A young man in a leather jacket strode down the hall of his apartment building, whistling and swinging his motorcycle helmet by the strap. He could still feel the residual stickiness of his recent tryst on his skin, clinging and uncomfortable. Though it might have been his imagination, a potted plant in the lobby seemed to wilt from the pungent sexual funk rising from his body. Jason rubbed the silver leaf across his lips and thought about Rafe. The first trickle of guilt was beginning to run through him, pricking and nagging. Would Alexis do anything to Rafe?

  If he hurts Rafe, it will be my fault.

  His apartment was only a few doors down. The leaf stopped its rubbing. A slight, nervous tic appeared at the corner of Jason's mouth. Maybe I should go back and return the leaf to Rafe, who--

  --seems to be right HERE?

  Rafe's voice was coming from Jason's apartment, traveling through the closed door.

  "What the hell? I left him back at Alexis's!"

  He opened the door. Rafe's voice was instantly louder, yet there was something odd about it. It was coming from every direction inside the living room.

  "I thought you'd hate me. I was amazed that you were civil. Okay, I thought. Rafe's not going to end up pounded into the floorboards."

  A woman was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the living room, listening to the voice. Next to her lay a whimpering baby.

  "Anyway, it was like the very first time we met. Yeah, sort of awkward, me giving you crap and whatnot. And when you left, all I could think of was how much I wanted that kiss instead of Mr. Bunny."

  Amanda's face was like that of a bombing victim, still as paralyzed marble.

  "Amanda," said Jason. "You're back? What--who--?"

  "Then we met at the amusement park, and you sat with me in that restaurant, talked to me, bought me a drink. God, that was nice. Then you got fanged or something--hell, I still don't know what happened there, and I hope it wasn't Alexis making a pass at you which is a really upsetting and disgusting thought unless I'm invited--and then Lexi came onto me like a crazy man, and you conned me onto that rollercoaster and made me kiss you, and that was the craziest thing of all."

  Rafe's voice was coming from the stereo speakers. Dumbfounded, Jason noticed the green lights on the equalizer rising and falling and traced the source to the CD player. A torn mailing envelope was in Amanda's hand, her fingers clutching it bloodlessly.

  “What is this?" Jason asked. That voice seems to be talking directly to me.

  "I never imagined you still loved me. Actually, that riot was the craziest thing of all, but the kiss was a damned close second."

  Jason hit the stop button on the CD player and ejected the disc, making a frenzied search for a label, anything to explain its existence.

  "I've been listening to that for the last hour," said Amanda woodenly. "I almost have it memorized."

  "What is this?"

  The mailing envelope fluttered from Amanda's hand to the floor. Jason dove for it. The return address was only a post office box, but it was addressed to Amanda and marked 'urgent.' Someone had mailed his wife a very personal recording of Rafe talking about his feelings for Jason.

  "You're in love with him. You kissed Rafe at that amusement park. You kissed him while I was in labor with our baby." The dead sound of her voice was frightening.

  "Amanda, you don't understand, it was all two years ago!"

  "You had an affair with him?"

  Jason was speechless. It was too late to take back his confession.

  "That riot at the fair wasn't two years ago!" Amanda shouted. "You're lying to me!" Her face crumpled, and she picked up Leila.

  "No! Amanda, I broke it off with him long ago! It was nothing!"

  She was staring at his hand. Jason followed the direction of her gaze and realized with horror he was still holding the little silver leaf.

  "That's Rafe's," said Amanda, her eyes widening. "That's from the necklace Alexis gave him. You son of a bitch, you're still lying to me!" She stood up, holding the baby. "From this moment on, I am no longer your wife. Get out of my apartment."

  "Amanda--!"

  "Get out! I can't stand to see you anymore. I don't want to hear another one of your lies. GET OUT! You've already confessed and so has Rafe. GO AWAY."

  "Amanda!"

  She made an effort to control herself. "I'll let you come back later to collect your stuff, but if you don't get out of this apartment this instant, I'm calling the police."

  Jason's mouth hung open. He was swaying on his toes, too rocked by this attack to think how to respond.

  "GO!" Amanda yelled.

  Jason half-turned, his eyes on hers. He glanced down at Leila. Amanda, he mouthed.

  "Leave. It's not like you don't have a place to go. You can move in with your boyfriend," she sneered. Angrily, she swiped at the hand holding the leaf, and Jason tightened his fist around it.

  "I don't love him," said Jason in desperation.

  "Well, isn't that a wonderful thing to say! You don't love Rafe. You don't love me. Who the fuck do you love, Jason North? Could it possibly be anyone besides yourself? No, I don't think so. You don't love anyone. You're much too selfish."

  "Don't you accuse me of that." Jason was livid. "My only fucking flaw is that I love too goddamn many people!"

  "Then you had better start learning how to love only one," she replied coldly, "because you can't have them all. There's the door. Don't walk into it on your way out."

  "Fuck! You don't want to do this. What about Leila?" He was squeezing the leaf so hard that its jagged edge punctured his hand.

  "You've heard of visiting rights. NOW GET OUT!"

  Shattered, he fled the room.

  The Los Angeles police must not have been very alert that day, for they missed the motorcyclist weaving recklessly around cars, running red lights in
his hurry to reach the expressway. Once there, he picked up speed, heading out of the city and roaring towards the ocean. The rider could barely see as he passed factories and smokestacks, sobbing under his helmet.

  He'd blown it. His marriage to Amanda was over. He'd tried to call her bluff, and it hadn't worked, thanks to that fucking CD.

  Who had sent it?

  He cruised down an exit ramp and stopped for the red light at the bottom, too distracted to notice that the red sports car in his rearview mirror wasn't stopping. He heard the clang, and that was all he was aware of except for the sensation of being thrown, the rubber handgrips tearing away from him, the hard road slamming him in the shoulder, and his body rolling down the grassy median.

  A minute later, someone was climbing down the embankment, asking him if he was hurt. A face bent over him. Dazed, Jason replied he thought he was all right, and let himself be dusted off and guided back up to the exit ramp. His motorcycle lay flat by the side of the road with a crunched rear fender.

  He was too numb to pay much attention to his excited and fluttering rescuer, who, it seemed, was also the person who'd rammed him. He didn't hear the talk about police reports, though he caught the part about needing to borrow Jason's cell phone to make the call, and loaned it. At the stranger's prompting, he fished around for a pen and paper and let himself be escorted into the passenger seat of the stranger's car to begin the wearisome process of exchanging insurance information.

  He didn't see the surreptitious toss of the cell phone into the bushes or notice the passenger door shutting. And when the helpful stranger bent close, saying something about insurance cards, it was only when the handcuffs locked shut over his wrists that Jason jerked backwards.

  "Hey, what--" said the guitarist, staring at his handcuffed wrists. His heartbeat, only now recovering from the accident, began to leap like a frightened grasshopper. It was like being run over by a freight train of events--Amanda, the motorcycle accident, and now this. Jason's frightened eyes flew to the driver.

  The car engine started. "I seem to have lost your cell phone. Clumsy me," the other man said. A pair of sunglasses hid his eyes, and his long, curly hair didn't seem quite right. It looked like a wig.

  CLACK went the automatic door locks.

  "Just in case you have stupid thoughts about diving out the door," said Alexis, smiling viciously at his captive. "I'm taking you to a deserted beach, so we can be alone. I have some business with you."

  Jason hit the sand face-first, his cuffed wrists doing little to cushion the scouring pain of the fall.

  "You sicken me."

  Alexis kicked some of the sand into his captive's face, and Jason snapped his eyes shut, turning away from the flying cloud.

  Son of a bitch, thought the guitarist. What's he going to do?

  "I can understand why you chased after Rafe, but not your betrayal of your wife and daughter. What happened? Did little Leila cry too loudly one day, and you decide to dump them? Was that it? Something so small, so selfish, so simple?"

  "No!" Jason gasped. He gasped again when something struck his head. A long-stemmed rose had bounced off his skull and was lying in the sand before him.

  Alexis was holding a bouquet. The singer threw another flower.

  "Where did you get those?" The rose bounced off the guitarist, and Jason buried his face against his cuffed wrists. Oh, shit. At least I know why he's so pissed.

  "I bought them," Alexis replied in a surprisingly calm tone. "They're beautiful flowers, aren't they?"

  The guitarist didn't dare look up.

  "No, I did not touch your--own--bouquet." Alexis threw another rose and sighed theatrically at the sight of Jason, covered with strewn flowers. "Such a pretty decoration for a grave, but maybe I won't be so generous as that. It's so much trouble, digging graves."

  Jason ground the cuffs against his forehead while he thought furiously. How the hell am I going to get out of here? Can I outrun him? Dammit, he's still got the car.

  "You haven't explained to me why you deserted your family, Jason. Why did you do it?"

  "I didn't! Someone mailed Amanda a recording that revealed I used to date Rafe, and she threw me out! I didn't leave her. She left me, I swear!"

  Alexis paused in his rose-throwing. He shifted from his lounging position against the sports car and stepped over to Jason's prone body. "Are you lying to me?" he asked sharply.

  "No! Did you--" Jason was almost too scared to say the words. "Did you mail that CD?"

  Alexis made a disgusted noise. "No. But it seems my enemies moved faster than I expected. Would you care to find out who they are? They're your enemies, too."

  Jason couldn't think of a reply. Mellor went back to the sports car and turned on the CD player, setting the volume up high.

  "He slept through all that? Pitiful. Remind me never to marry."

  It was Sam's voice.

  "Jason's been saying he hasn't been getting much sleep because of the baby."

  That's Denny talking, thought Jason. Where'd Alexis get this recording?

  "How are we supposed to work without our lead guitarist, Dinkel?"

  "Amanda wants Jason to quit the band. She knows about the riot, and she doesn't want to be left alone with the baby while we go out on tour. She thinks he could earn a living doing session work. I can't believe this shit."

  "Oh crap. All I did before Mullerin was session work, and it sucked. Give me credit for my work, dammit. Obscurity is not cool. If we have to deal with an impossible spouse, Mullerin is going to fall apart. Shit! We're facing the end of the band here."

  "I have to agree. I've never been keen on Amanda, but she's my best friend's wife, so--I've kept my mouth shut."

  "There is a solution, you know. We tell Amanda about Jason's affair with Rafe."

  "Oh, boy."

  "Hey. She hurts me, hurts my band, my career--I fix the problem."

  "I never dreamed she might cost me my best friend as well as my band."

  Alexis, who had been listening closely for the edits he'd done on the disc, shut off the CD player.

  "Fucking God," moaned Jason into his arms. "You're kidding me." The guitarist sat up, scattering roses. "Denny and Sam mailed that recording to my wife?"

  "Yes."

  "Jesus Christ," Jason repeated. He lowered his face to hide his tears. I can't believe they did it. My BEST FRIENDS. "Why?" he managed to say.

  "You heard them," Alexis replied. "They had their motives."

  The band, Jason remembered. She would have wrecked the band. Was I stupid? Of course they'd have gone crazy. Shit, they love the band.

  "Yes, Jason." Alexis stepped in front of the kneeling guitarist. "I was the only one who wanted to save your marriage. You don't believe me? Listen."

  The singer returned to the car and started another recording, and out of the speakers came the meeting in Malcolm's office. The crash of a chair against Malcolm's desk, Alexis's furious voice making arrangements for the nanny, the payments, and his cooing efforts to talk Amanda into agreeing to the plan.

  Jason listened, stunned.

  When the recording finished, Alexis shut it off. From the back seat of the sports car, he removed the samurai sword, then returned to stand over Jason again. "You owe me, North. You owe me." Alexis unsheathed the sword and held it up so Jason could take a good look at it. Jason recoiled.

  "And how do you repay me? You try to steal Rafe from me. You filthy little shit. You didn't even treat Rafe kindly the first time."

  "Don't," the guitarist begged, holding up his cuffed hands.

  "You owe me," Alexis repeated. "So how are you going to repay me? With your life? Look at this blade. It's very sharp. It can go right through your neck with one blow."

  "Are you crazy!? You'll go to jail."

  "This beach is deserted," Alexis replied laconically. "There's no one here to see your death, to watch your headless body being tossed into the ocean. Who would know? Who'd find out? 'Jason North drove off after his wife threw him
out and was never seen again.' That's how the headlines would read."

  The guitarist clawed at the sand in frustration. He's right.

  "So what do you choose, Rafe or your life?"

  For a second, Jason considered springing up and trying to kick the sword out of Alexis's hand, anything. The blade flashed in front of Jason's eyes, and waited.

  Fuck. If I lose, I'd never see Leila again. Or Amanda, or Denny, my parents, Carl, Rafe, or anybody. "I choose--my life," the guitarist whispered.

  Alexis made a noise of contempt. "I would have chosen Rafe even if it meant my death. I guess you didn't love him enough, North. Give me that leaf."

  "What?" Jason replied stupidly. He was having a difficult time understanding things.

  "Give me that leaf," Alexis shouted. "You stole it. I know you stole it because he never would have given it to you." For the first time, a note of hysteria crept into Alexis's voice. "Tell me he didn't give it to you." The singer dropped down in front of Jason's eyes, his face almost insane.

  Jason knew he could hurt Alexis unspeakably right now. He could have his revenge. "I stole it," he admitted. I don't give a shit about Mellor, but I owe Rafe the truth. With his bound hands, Jason felt around in his jacket pocket and pulled out the leaf. Alexis snatched it from him and stood.

  "Your face is wet with tears, North. How odd. Is it about your marriage? Don't cry over that. If you couldn't make yourself stay faithful to her, then it was better to break up and give Amanda a chance to find someone else. As for you--"

  The singer put a foot against Jason's shoulder and shoved the guitarist flat to the ground. Jason didn't dare move. There was sand in his face, in his mouth, and he was in an agony of fear. He listened as hard as he'd ever listened in his life, praying that Alexis would go away. He heard the sound of the wind over the empty beach, the faint splashing of waves, and something else. It was a mechanical humming, harsh and loud.

  It was the sound of an approaching helicopter.