by Lara Wynter
Finn puts the mic back on its stand, turns around, and picks up his guitar. He makes a quick adjustment and turns back to the mic. “I want to dedicate this next song to Autumn and our baby. Don’t be afraid to sing along when we get to the chorus.”
I’m restless can’t seem to stop moving
I think I’m afraid of what all this means
What if I can’t be what you need?
How do I stop the fear from devouring me?
She takes my hand and whispers it will all work out
She steals my breath and makes me believe
My heart is full my life makes sense
She makes me believe she makes me whole
I sing along with the crowd as we play through the chorus. Jemma is still on my mind. I wish she were here, it would make tonight perfect.
Jemma
I abandon my crutches and move to the rhythm of the music. A sea of unfamiliar bodies moves with me. Simon, one of the roadies is beside me in to help in case things get to be too much. Nothing could stop me from being here tonight. Sophie opted to stay backstage with Autumn. She’s excited about the prospect of being an honorary aunt. But I want to experience the thrill of being in the crowd. Of seeing the band from a fan’s perspective.
The show is incredible. It’s not hard to see why Infusion Deep is so huge. Could I ever be a part of something like this? My heart screams yes while the voice of reason says it’s not a good idea. Marriage breakdowns are common enough. I hate to imagine what the stats on celebrity unions are. I used to see myself working at a University doing research and living a normal quiet life. I’m not sure that’s what I want anymore but I’m not sure that living life in the spotlight is it either.
Besides, my degree in Linguistic Anthropology is hardly going to be any use for a rock band. But maybe it wouldn’t be forever. Wes has mentioned on more than one occasion that he doesn’t see himself doing this forever. Ugh, I need to get out of my head and just enjoy the music.
The band finishes their last song and leaves the stage. The ‘encore’ chant starts almost straight away, and I join in. It feels good to yell as loud as I can. Even Simon yells beside me and he’s worked with the band from the beginning. I smile at him and he smiles back. He places a steadying hand on my arm as I wobble on my one good leg, but as soon as I’m stable, he releases me.
The band comes back on stage and I wave my hand in the air as the opening notes to Not Falling cut through the noise. I love this song. It reminds me of how I feel about Wes. Even though I’ve tried to keep myself from falling for him, I haven’t been able to.
I sing loudly along with Finn.
Something about you
Guess there was something about you
Brought me to my knees
Took me by surprise
And brought me to my knees
And brought me to my knees
But, I’m not falling
I won’t fall
Still won’t fall for you
As the last notes to the final song hang in the night air, I realize I’ve never felt as alive as I do right now. It’s been a magical night, and I don’t want it to end. I want to go backstage and congratulate the band on a brilliant show. And if I’m being honest with myself, I want to hold a certain band member tight and never let go.
As the audience exits the venue, I pick up my crutches and let Simon lead me backstage. I catch a few envious looks from some of the women still here as I pass through the door that leads to the band’s inner sanctum. I hobble along the hallway. My foot is really throbbing. Wes is going to be upset that I spent the night standing on it instead of resting. But I don’t regret a moment.
Simon stops and turns toward me. “Will you be alright from here? I have a lot to do tonight, especially since I watched the whole show with you.”
“Yeah, of course. I shouldn’t stopped you from getting your work done.”
Simon grins. “No worries. It’s been a long time since I’ve watched a whole show. I’ve missed it.”
“It’s alright, Simon, I can take her.”
I spin around awkwardly. Trent is standing there smiling, his hair slicked back. Simon waves and heads off.
“It’s alright,” I say. “I think I can find my way, no one needs to go out of their way for me.”
“Nonsense, can’t have you hobbling around back here getting in everyone’s way.”
“Well, if you’re sure I’m not a bother.”
“Oh no, definitely not a bother.” Trent smiles, and it sends a shiver of dread up my spine.
I shake my head. I’m sure I’m just imagining things. Although Finn gripes about Trent all the time, I’ve never heard any stories to make me think he’d do anything to me. I follow the band’s manager as he leads me deeper back stage. He opens a door to what looks like a dressing room and ushers me inside.
I look around but the room is empty. “Where are Autumn and Soph?”
“Probably back at the hotel already.”
“Oh.” I’m surprised to hear they didn’t wait for me, but Autumn was probably tired with the whole pregnancy thing. I’ve noticed she gets tired quite easily. She’s probably sent me a message, but I haven’t checked my phone.
“Would you like a drink?” Trent opens a fridge and pulls out two beers.
“Um, just water is fine actually.”
He cracks the top off both drinks and hands me one. “One drink won’t hurt. You’re not a teetotaler are you?”
“No, but I’m working, and I’m not really a beer drinker.” I try to take a step back, but between the crutches and the drink in my hand I’m stuck. Something about this just doesn’t feel right. Alarm bells go off in my head. Although Trent is nothing like my ex, he’s giving me the same feeling right now, and I don’t like it.
Trent laughs. “No one likes a priss, Jemma. Lighten up, it’s just one beer.”
I take a small sip while I try to gather my thoughts. Trent places his arm on the wall, fencing me in. My breath speeds up as my heart races.
“So…ah…that was a great show tonight, don’t you think?”
Trent leans in toward me until his face is within inches of my own. “You know, Jemma, you’re a smart girl. None of the boys in the band even have a degree. They can’t understand the way your mind works. Not like I can. You know I graduated from Harvard with honors.”
“What do you want, Trent?” I’m surprised at how steady my voice sounds even though my heart is still racing and my palms are sweaty.
Trent doesn’t answer instead he presses his mouth hard against my own. My bottle drops to the floor where it smashes, sending beer all over my bare leg. I stumble backward trying to free myself from his unwanted kiss. My back hits the wall and tears fill my eyes as my twisted ankle hits the ground. Trent grabs a handful of curls holding me in place. His other hand slides up my thigh under my dress.
As he forces his tongue into my mouth, I do the only thing I can. I bite down. Hard. Trent pulls back and utters a string of foul curses. Blood runs down his chin. He shoves me hard into the wall. My head hits the wall and everything turns black for a moment as I slide to the floor. More pain radiates from my thigh as I fall onto the broken bottle.
The door crashes open and Wes and Ryan rush in. Wes’s eyes open wide as he takes in the scene.
Ryan glances at me and back to Trent. “Help her, I’ve got this.” He pulls his arm back and slams his fist into Trent’s face.
I have a moment to take in Wes’s anguished expression before he scoops me up into his arms.
“Wes,” I whisper as the world goes dark.
Chapter 16
Jemma
A loud beep wakes me. I open my eyes. Worried brown eyes look into my own. I try to smile but it turns into a wince as I shift my leg.
“Are you alright? Does it hurt? Let me call the nurse. I’m so sorry Jemma, you have no idea.”
I feel the reassuring touch of Wes’s hand in mine and my lips turn up. “It’s not your fa
ult. You had no way of knowing what Trent was going to do.”
Wes’s eyes go dark. “No. If I had of known, I would have strangled that—”
“Where is he?” I interrupt, suddenly needing to know what happened after I blacked out.
“He’s down the hall. They wouldn’t take him to another hospital. Or better yet, let him lie in his own blood.”
I gasp. “What happened?”
“Ryan beat the crap out of him, that’s what happened. Finn and Zane had to pull him off actually. Trent will never work in this industry again. The police are with him now. He’ll go away for a long time for what he did to you. Forever, I hope.”
“What about Ryan? Will Trent press charges against Ryan?” I’d really hate for Ryan to get in trouble for protecting me. Even if it sounds like he did go a bit far.
“Ryan will have the best legal representation, don’t worry, Jemma.”
I frown. “So Trent did press charges against him?”
“Yeah, for assault. He has two broken ribs and a broken jaw.”
I gasp. I’ve been through court proceedings when I was assaulted so I know what Ryan faces. I’m still not over having to face my ex in court. I can’t make him go through that, not for me. “What if I agreed not to press charges against Trent in return for Trent agreeing to drop the charges against Ryan?”
“No way, Jemma. Ryan will never go for that, and neither will I. That creep needs to pay for what he did to you.” Wes grips my hand tightly. “Do you want to tell me exactly what happened before the police come in to question you?”
I struggle to sit up. “I need to talk to him before the police get here. Can you help me?”
Wes looks alarmed. “What? There’s not a chance I’m letting you anywhere near that jerk. Just lie back down. Please?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not letting Ryan go through a trial and risk going to prison.”
“I’m sure it won’t get that far–”
“No, it won’t because I won’t let it.” I grimace as I slide my legs out of the bed. The hospital gown slides up my legs revealing my right thigh, swathed in bandages. I look down at it. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember falling on the broken bottle?”
A flash from the attack assaults me, and I remember falling and feeling the glass slice into my leg. “Yes,” I take a deep breath in, “I remember. Can you help me up?”
“Just wait. I’ll go get Ryan, and I need to call your parents. They’ll want to know what happened.”
“What? No, you can’t call them. They don’t cope well with stress. My Mom had a stroke three years ago and my Dad cares for her.”
“But they know about what happened with your ex don’t they?”
I shake my head slowly. “Why do you think I never went home after I got out of Peaceful Shores? They know I can’t afford to come home while I’m studying.”
“Shoot, Jemma, I think they’re going to notice your scars when they see you again. Just how long did you think you could stay away from them?”
Tears fill my eyes. “You don’t understand. I love them too much to hurt them. Knowing what he did to me would kill them. They had me when they were in their forties.” I smile sadly. “I was their miracle baby. Even before my mom’s stroke, they both had some serious health issues. They need to know that I’m doing well, that I’m happy. I talk to them on the phone all the time.”
Wes’s eyes turn sad. “I bet they miss you. I’m not sure I totally agree with your reasoning, but I guess I can understand.”
“I’d love a hug from my mom and dad right now, more than anything. But I need to put them first. And besides, I am happy. So I’m not lying about the fact these last few months have been amazing.”
Wes stands beside me while I sit on the edge of the hospital bed and gently wraps his arms around me. I bury my head against his warm chest and allow a few tears to escape. Before I let my emotions overcome me I pull back slightly. “So will you take me to see Trent?”
Wes
How can one person go through so much and still have such a positive outlook on the world? As well as such a willingness to forgive those who have hurt her. As much as I don’t want to take her to see Trent, if that’s what she really wants to do, I’ll do it.
“Alright. Just stay there, and I’ll get a wheelchair.” I quickly procure one from where it sits beside the other empty bed in the room. As I gently lower Jemma into the chair, I try to push my feelings aside. Can I really be in the same room as Trent and not strangle the life out of that scumbag? For Jemma, I’m determined to try.
It’s quiet out in the hallway. Finn and Zane took Autumn and Sophie back to the hotel to sleep as soon as they knew Jemma was going to be okay. Ryan stands and comes over as soon as he sees us.
“Jemma, are you alright?” Concern tightens the usually carefree bass player’s features.
“I’m fine Ryan, really. And thanks for looking out for me. It means a lot.”
“Where are you headed? Surely they’re not sending you home already?”
I grip the handles of the chair tighter until my knuckles turn white. “She wants to talk to him.”
Ryan doesn’t need to ask who I’m talking about. I watch as his face hardens, mirroring my own. “What would you want to see that dirtbag for?”
Jemma reaches out to gently touch Ryan’s hand which is gripped into a tight fist. “I’m not going to risk you going to prison for protecting me.”
Ryan looks at me. “And you’re okay with this?”
“I’m trying to be.” I shake my head.
“You don’t need to do this,” Ryan says. “I’ll take whatever punishment the court doles out, gladly. I believe I did the right thing and nothing can make me regret that.”
“Thank you, Ryan. That means a lot to me. But please, let me try it my way first, okay?”
“If this is really what you want.”
“Ryan,” Jemma looks up at him from her wheelchair her expression serene. “You should go back to the hotel and get some sleep.”
“I can’t. The cops still have some more questions for me.”
“Oh,” her smile falls. “Alright then. Let’s go, Wes.”
I push her down the hallway and into the room where the degenerate scumbag is cuffed to the bed. A police officer sits next to him while a second one stands near the door. He lets me through although he glares at me as if I’m crazy. I shrug, letting him know it’s not my idea. The cop by the bed is older. I’m guessing he’s the one in charge.
The older man notices us. “Miss Jones, it’s good to see you awake. You shouldn’t be in here though. I’ll be in to talk to you soon.”
Jemma turns her gaze to Trent. The glare he gives her is enough to test my restraint to its limit.
Jemma seems unfazed. “Trent, although what you did was wrong, I’m considering not pressing charges against you.”
Trent’s gaze turns from anger to suspicion. “And why would you do that?”
“I think you can figure it out.”
The older officer raises his eyebrows. “You realize we can still arrest him regardless of what you want Miss Jones?”
“But without me you don’t really have a case. Wouldn’t you rather go and solve some serious crimes, Officer?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Jones.”
Jemma looks back at Trent. “Do you agree this was all a terrible misunderstanding?”
“Yeah, sure,” Trent runs his hands through his mussed hair smoothing part of it back in place.
“And you agree that your injuries were caused when you unfortunately slipped and fell on the spilt beer that also caused the cut to my leg?”
Trent nods slowly. “Yeah, that’s how I remember it all happening. I think I must have hit my head and been a bit confused before, but it’s all coming back to me now.”
The officer shakes his head in disgust, before uncuffing Trent from the bed. “I hope you kids don’t live to regret this.” He sta
nds and walks slowly out the door, motioning for the young officer to come with him. “Fame. It makes people do stupid things,” the officer says loudly enough to make sure we can hear him as he walks away.
I can stay silent no longer. I scowl at Trent. “Just so long as you realize you’re still fired, scum-sucker.”
Chapter 17
Jemma
I wake up to the feel of Wes’s soft hair under my hand. He must have fallen asleep while he was watching over me. Knowing someone cares for me enough to sit beside me all night in the hard hospital chair sends a warmth through me. I take a moment to pray and give thanks for Wes and Ryan and all the members of the band for caring about me. I don’t blame them for what happened. No one is responsible for what Trent did except for Trent.
Wes looks exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes are a testament to how little sleep he got last night. My leg and ankle are still mildly sore, but nothing compared to what they were like last night. I give in to the impulse to run my hand through Wes’s hair. He twitches slightly but doesn’t wake.
The urge to go to the bathroom reminds me that this is reality and not a story with a guaranteed happily ever after. My crutches rest against the wall near the bed on the opposite side to where Wes is. I gently sit up and slide my legs over the side of the bed being careful not to disturb him. I slide slowly off the bed landing on my good leg. So far so good. I reach out and grab the crutches and place them under my arms.
At least the cut and sprain are both on the same leg so I can still maneuver using the crutches. I successfully navigate myself to the bathroom and a feeling of pride at my simple accomplishment fills me. I’m relieved to know I will still be able to take care of myself even if I won’t be able to do my job for a while.
I know Wes won’t fire me for not being able to look after Sophie, but will he send me home to recover? And if he does, what will happen to her? I’m pretty sure she stayed with Finn and Autumn last night but that’s not a permanent solution. Having taken care of my urgent needs, the shower beckons. My hair needs a wash and I still smell like stale beer. I press the button for a nurse. I’m going to need help to keep my bandages dry.