Rock

by J. A. Huss

  “Fucking cops, man,” I sigh.

  TJ and Missy say nothing in reply. Teej just pulls into the driveway and looks over at me. “You gonna be around tomorrow? I could use some help down at the bar. Get ready for the show this weekend.”

  I’m too drunk to even think about this right now, so I just nod and say, “Sure,” as I open my door. Missy gets out too, giving TJ a long glance before exiting. I take her hand and pull her away, closing the door as I turn with Miss and walk up the drive.

  Missy is quiet as we go into the house and I disarm the alarm. “Did you have a good time?” I ask her.

  “I did,” she says, wrapping her arms around my middle and smiling into my chest. “I just worry about you when there’s crowds.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, walking us both into the kitchen. “I can take care of myself. And besides, this is Grand Lake, right?” I laugh a little as I pull open the fridge and grab two waters. I twist off a cap for Missy and hand it over. She takes a long sip as I twist open another and guzzle until half the bottle is gone.

  “Thirsty?” Missy laughs.

  “Yeah.” I smile my half-drunken smile at her. “I haven’t had this much to drink in a while.”

  Missy shifts her feet and then looks over at the patio door that leads out to the deck. “You’re not planning on some midnight rock climbing, are you?”

  “No.” I laugh. “Why?”

  She takes a deep breath. “Well, you always seem to disappear after you drink.”

  I squint my eyes as I think about this. “Do I?” I shake my head. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

  Missy comes closer, taking my water and setting it down on the counter with hers so she can take my hand. “If not drinking, then what’s the trigger?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. But I got drunk a lot with the band and woke up to a normal hangover the next day. So it’s not drinking.”

  “Where do you go, RK? Do you remember?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Not really. Climbing, I guess. People saw me that first time. And I had the harness on that one time.”

  “Did you climb in LA?”

  I think about this a little bit. Because the obvious answer is yes. I know this is the correct answer or how else would I have had all that climbing gear? How would I know how to use it? How would I not kill myself climbing down the cliff? And how the hell did I know how to drill holes and hammer bolts into the rock if I haven’t done it before? “I guess,” is the best answer I can come up with. “But I really do not remember.”

  “Doesn’t that scare you, RK?” She slips her hands under my shirt and holds tight to the muscles just above my hips. “Because it scares the shit out of me. What if you go climbing and never come back? And we don’t know where you went, or how to find you? What if you get hurt and need help—”

  “I don’t climb alone, Missy.” It comes out before I even realize what I’m saying.

  “What? Then who were you climbing with?”

  “I mean—” Shit. “I don’t know. I just know,” I say, tapping on my heart, “in here, that I don’t. I have a partner every time. And Margie said that I was with a bunch of people that first time, so that confirms it.”

  “Yeah, TJ talked to them. They didn’t know you, RK. They said you just showed up on that climb. Like, uninvited, or something. So how did you know people would be up there?”

  “I don’t know, Missy.” It comes out a little irritated and I’m sorry for that, but why is she pressing me? “I don’t want to talk about it, OK? Besides,” I say, shooting her my best charming rock-star smile, “it’s not Saturday night yet.” She does not laugh, but I do. “Apparently I only black out and climb on Sundays.”

  “That’s not funny.” She pouts.

  “I know, but I’m sorta drunk, Miss. I just want to go to bed and hold you tight, OK?” I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. “Come on, let’s go to bed. We have three days to talk about it before the rock climbing urge takes over.”

  “I’m getting security to start sleeping in the house tomorrow, RK. I’m not kidding. I’m going to handcuff you to the bed on Saturday night.”

  I lead her into the bedroom, flick on the light, and start taking her clothes off. “I don’t care,” I say, whipping her shirt over her head. “As long as they don’t mind listening to some rock-star fucking.”

  “Oh, my God,” she says. But a little giggle escapes from her mouth and I can’t help myself. I grab her by the hair and kiss that mouth. Our tongues twist together as we forget about rock climbing, and blackouts, and security.

  I unbutton her jeans and wiggle them down her hips. Her hands reach down, our mouths still busy with the kiss, and help, until she gets them all the way off and she’s just standing in her barely-there panties. My forearm swipes all the shit piled up on the dresser, making it crash to the floor, and then I lift her up and sit her on top of the smooth wooden surface and press my fingers up against her pussy.

  She breathes heavy, and I can almost hear her heart start to beat faster as she reaches for the hem of my shirt and works it up my chest. Her lips go there, kissing and licking. And then her hand is grabbing my dick through my pants.

  “Unbutton them,” I whisper into her hair.

  Her fingers fumble for a second as she releases the button, and then she drags the zipper down. Her hand is frantic to pull my cock out, and when she does that, I watch her look down and smile.

  “The rock-star dick,” she laughs, “is huge.”

  “Hey,” I say, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. “Only the best for you, Melissa Vetti.” Her breasts fall free as I ease it down her arms, making her release her hold on my cock. I throw the bra on the floor and then push her back against the dresser mirror, opening her legs and lifting them up, so her knees are pressed against the soft fleshy sides of her tits.

  I bite one, making her squeal softly, and then kiss her mouth before making my way back down her body, kissing her every inch of the way. Her nipples, where my tongue swirls around the bunched-up peaks. Her flat stomach, rippled with the small muscles of a girl who is fit. Her hip bones, the ones my hands always seem to gravitate to. And then I get to her sheer panties. They are pink mesh with white lace.

  I lick her pussy through the panties and she runs her fingers through my hair, grabbing it as I bury my face. I slip her panties aside and rub her clit. She automatically clasps her knees together, squeezing my shoulders, as she squirms.

  I push her legs open and continue licking her until she’s arching her back and writhing underneath me. My dick is hard as fuck, and I want her hands on me. So I stand up and redirect her attention by placing her palm around it. She immediately begins to pump as I watch. She grips it firmly, stroking me up and down. Slow. Way too fucking slow. It’s driving me crazy. Her small fist eclipses the tip of my head, then slides back down, stretching the skin, before releasing.

  I want her mouth on it. I want to see her lips wrap around me, her tongue licking and flicking, and then my cock disappearing down her throat.

  “RK,” she moans, trying to sit up, trying to reach me better.

  I push her back against the mirror and whisper, “Be still. You first.” I bend down again. She protests with a small moan as she is forced to let go of my cock, and then I resume my licking. I insert two fingers in her pussy and swirl my tongue around her clit until her legs are wrapped around my neck and no matter how hard I urge her to ease up, she doesn’t.

  She locks her ankles together behind my back and thrusts her hips up towards my mouth, soft rocking motions adding to her pleasure. I lick, then take her clit between my lips and suck her as I pump my fingers in and out.

  “I’m gonna come,” she whispers. “Just so I can have my turn to make you feel like this.”

  I laugh a little as I keep going, reaching up to grab her tit and knead her nipple.

  That’s all it takes. I look up between her legs and watch her come. She throws her head back against the mirror,
twisting her neck back and forth, like she’s overcome with the ecstasy. Her hips writhe, her back buckles, and then she lets out a long, soft moan as she fists my hair, pushing my face farther into her pussy.

  I taste her release. It’s sweet and tangy and pours into my mouth. And after about a minute of this, she stills and I kiss her body all the way back up to her mouth. Her tongue meets mine eagerly. Like she can’t get enough.

  Her voice is husky from the climax when she whispers, “Your turn now.”

  I lift her whole body up, her legs automatically wrapping around my middle as I walk us over to the bed. I sit down, placing Missy in my lap, and hold her tight for a few seconds. “Thank you for being here when I came home,” I say.

  “I was waiting for you, Rowan Kyle. There was never a time in my life that I didn’t know you were the only guy for me.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she says, pulling away and placing her palms on the stubble of my face. “It doesn’t matter now. This moment,” she says, “all these precious moments we’ve had since you came home wipe all those missing years away.”

  She eases herself out of my lap and kneels on the floor in front of me. Her eyes never leave mine as she does this, her hands firmly gripping my cock as she slides them up and down my shaft.

  And then… she gives me everything I ever wanted. I stare in awe as she places her mouth over my dick. Still, her eyes never leave mine. She looks up at me through a few stray strands of hair that I automatically tuck behind her ear, and pushes her face into my cock like she’s dying for it.

  It’s my turn to throw my head back. I place my hands on her head, urging her to take me deeper. She gags a little, but doesn’t pull back. I ease up to make her more comfortable, and then guide her more gently.

  She sucks hard and flattens her tongue against my shaft as she draws up. I almost want to die. I force myself to watch her, even though my eyes want to close and my body wants to sink back into the soft comforter. Her eyes are watering a little, making her dark makeup smudge.

  “Fuck, yes,” I mumble as she dives down on my dick again. And then I come down her throat without even asking first.

  She gags for a second, but recovers quickly, her gaze still locked with mine. She swallows until I’m done and I can’t hold my eyes open for another second. I flop back on the bed, my fingers running through her hair. She climbs on top of me, her breasts flattening against my chest, and kisses my neck, then my ear, then the scruff of my cheek and finally my mouth.

  “I love you so fucking much,” I say.

  “Don’t leave me again, Rowan Kyle. Because if you do, I might die.”

  I roll us over and pull her into my chest, her head resting on my upper arm, her face buried in my hair, and make a promise. “I won’t. I swear, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She sighs a little and then whispers, “Wake me up when you want to go again. Because I’m not ready to be done.”

  The last thing I recall is chuckling before sleep overtakes us and we are out.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Rowan Kyle,” a female voice says as my shoulder shakes. “Rowan Kyle? Wake up, dear.”

  I pull myself awake and blink, trying to make my eyes focus. When I manage that, an older woman is leaning down, looking at me with a worried expression. “What?” I ask, sitting up in the bed and looking wildly around, trying to figure out where the fuck I am.

  “You fell asleep,” the woman says. She smiles and lets out a breath, like she was worried about me. “I was able to dig up a little bit, but not much.” She thrusts a folder at me and I accept it without thinking as I take in my surroundings.

  I’m in a hospital room.

  My heart begins to beat like crazy and the first thing that runs through my mind isn’t, How the fuck did I get here? It’s—“Missy is gonna kill me.”

  “Who’s Missy, Rowan Kyle? A friend of yours?” She smiles one of those patient smiles. She’s wearing pink scrubs and she has eyeglasses that remind me of the Grand Lake librarian.

  What the hell is happening?

  I look around the room again and take it in. The bed is still made and I’m fully clothed, so I’m not a patient. I can hear a lot of voices and yelling beyond a sheet pulled closed for privacy and stare at it for a second.

  “I know,” the nurse says. “They need the room, Rowan Kyle. So I only have a minute. They’re bringing a patient up right now from the ER. I looked up the info on your friend,” she says, her hand resting on my shoulder to refocus my attention on her. “I found out a little bit, but not much. It’s all very hush-hush. VIP’s have a lot of extra security afforded to their records. But he was here.”

  “He was?” I ask, my mind still trying to catch up with the situation. “Kenner?”

  The nurse nods and I read her name tag. Alice Gooding.

  Alice. Why do I know that name?

  “He was flown here after he was stabilized and put into an induced coma at Cedars-Sinai.”

  “LA? Why was he in LA?” I’m so fucking confused.

  “I guess…” Alice Gooding shrugs. “I guess that’s where they take rock stars when they need immediate medical attention. He was life-flighted from Big Bear on February twenty-ninth—”

  “Big Bear?”

  She stops talking and stares at me. “Are you OK?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “Yes. I mean, yes. I’m OK, just confused after that… nap.”

  “Nap.” She smiles again. “You looked pretty tired when you came up to the nurse’s station. Which is why I brought you in here. And to keep prying ears and eyes off you while I looked.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink.

  I have no fucking clue where I am, other than in a hospital room. “What’s the day?” I get another concerned look, so I quickly add, “I lost track, sorry. Recovery mode and all.”

  “Thursday, Rowan Kyle.”

  “Thursday,” I repeat. So I can’t be too far from home. Unless I somehow have a private plane stashed away I don’t know about. But no hospital in Grand County has the kind of activity I can hear out beyond that sheet.

  “Life-flighted here to Denver on February twenty-ninth in an induced coma as they assessed his brain recovery.”

  “I feel sick,” I say.

  “Just take deep breaths, Rowan Kyle. Do you want me to call someone?”

  “No,” I snap. “No. Don’t call anyone. I just need a second to deal, OK?” There’s more activity on the other side of the sheet, more shouting, some kind of medical alarm going off and the thud of footsteps.

  Alice is looking at the sheet as well. Alice the nurse, not Alice the fan, I hear myself thinking.

  “Like I said, we don’t have much time. Kenner McConnell was flown here and taken to the VIP wing. He stayed there for three weeks.”

  “Then what happened?” I’m trying really hard to focus on her words.

  “They took him up somewhere up in Routt County. That’s Steamboat, I think. Well…” She considers thoughtfully. “I guess it could be one of the other towns. But I do know there’s a VIP medical center up in Steamboat. It’s heavily guarded. They take people there who need specialized care but also high security.”

  I’m afraid to ask, but I hear the words coming out of my mouth anyway. “Why did he need so much security?”

  “You still don’t remember, do you?” She pulls back. “I’m sorry, but when you came in you were lucid and asking all the right questions.” She shakes her head at me. “But now… I didn’t know you hadn’t remembered yet. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you—”

  I grab her by the wrist and grip tight, not letting her move away. And then I stare into her eyes and plead. “I need to know, Alice Gooding. I need to know what the fuck happened to me. And I’m gonna beg here. I’m not too proud to beg, OK? Just please, tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  She hesitates for a moment, looks at the sheet again, then nods. “OK, come with me.” I don’t let
go of her wrist. I hold on like my life depends on it. So when she moves towards the sheets, I follow her. She peeks out, and it’s fucking chaos. People rushing by, family members crying. Some kind of very big emergency is happening. It’s an intensive care unit, I realize. Where you were, Rock, a voice in my head says. That’s why you came here. Someone is dying. Right now. That’s what all the activity is in the hallway. Alice the nurse drags me towards a stairwell and we slip inside. We walk down several flights of stairs and come out into a semi-lit basement. She stops in the hallway and takes a deep breath, then peeks into a door window, nods and leads me into a small empty break room. There are a few tables with chairs in the center, littered with magazines and newspapers, and paper cups. Several cots line the walls.

  “This is for ER docs,” she explains. “When they need to crash after double shifts.”

  There’s no one in here now, but I get what she’s saying. We don’t have much time.

  “Do you remember me?” she asks. “I took care of you when you first got to Denver. They brought you in first, since your injuries weren’t as serious as your friend’s. And when they transferred you, they never told us where you went. The FBI were here and they had you drugged pretty good to stop you from…” She hesitates. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this. It could make things worse.”

  “Alice,” I say, dead fucking serious. “This is worse, OK? Not knowing. Blacking out and waking up in strange places. I can’t keep doing this. I need to know what the fuck is going on.”

  “You went a little crazy, Rowan Kyle. Once you realized what happened.”

  “But I don’t remember what happened.” Obviously I was mixing up Melanie’s death up in the mountains with whatever happened to the band. My band did not drive off a cliff any more than the car I was driving on prom night. “How could I know what happened and then forget?”

  She puts her hands up, like she’s helpless to answer that. “The mind is a tricky beast.”

  “I promise, OK? I’m not interested in doing something stupid. I just need to know what’s going on now.”