by Regina Frame
He shook his head in disbelief, and without another word, he pushed the start button on the dash and a gust of cool air hit me in the face from the air conditioning. We were all meeting up at Battle Creek Paintball Arena to play a game before we went to Linc's for Thanksgiving dinner. We were the last two members of our team to arrive.
Jinx and Levi were already dressed in black coverall uniforms, complete with grease paint smudged underneath their eyes and paintball guns strapped across their broad chests. Those guys took that stuff serious. That was okay, because I was competitive in nature. I always had been. I still held a statewide record in track from my senior year in high school.
"What took you guys so long?" Jinx asked.
Chance opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I was sure he was getting ready to put the blame on me, and, honestly, it was my fault. I'd changed clothes four times before I decided on my current outfit choice.
"Chance couldn't get his hair right," I teased.
"You're out of luck if you think they're going to believe that, Sparkles. Everybody knows Levi's the pretty boy of this group."
Everyone laughed except for Levi, who, in turn, flipped Chance the bird.
"Uniforms are in the locker rooms, so hurry your asses up. We've only got an hour to kick your ass before we have to head out. By the way, we're in the junk yard," Jinx said.
"You're going down, smurf boy," I taunted Chance as I turned and walked toward the women's dressing room.
"I hate to break it to you, Sparkles, but we're on the same team. You can't take out a team mate. It's an automatic disqualification."
I didn’t even respond. Just waved my hand in the air and kept walking. We'd see about that, because if I got the chance to shoot him in the ass, I was taking the shot. He'd beaten me at too many X-box games over the past couple of days and still wouldn't let me live it down.
***
"My ass is killing me," Chance declared, rubbing his left hip. "I think you should kiss it and make it better," he told me.
"Is that your way of telling me to kiss your ass?"
I cut my eyes to his, and found amusement dancing behind the emerald green. He bumped me with his hip as we walked up the coral color stone path that led to Linc's front door. The cut glass sparkled in the light of the beautiful chandelier that could be seen through the double doors.
"You see right through me, Sparkles."
He laughed and laced his fingers with mine, sending tingles up my arm. His hand was big compared to mine, and I could feel the calluses on his fingertips from hours of playing guitar. I could only imagine what they'd feel like as he pinched my nipples between them. I liked that feeling. Maybe a little too much.
"Take your shoes off!" a female voice shouted from somewhere in the house.
Chance grumbled something about Honesty under his breath as he toed off his boots and left them by the door with mine.
"What the fuck? I used to live here. I never had to take my shoes off then," he grumbled.
"Hey, guys! How was the arcade?" I heard a female voice ask as I followed Chance into the spacious kitchen.
It smelled like Thanksgiving. Like turkey and stuffing and all the good comfort food that goes along with the holiday. Chance told me that at one time, it was considered the band’s home. They all lived under the same roof until Linc asked Honesty to move in with him. The guys thought it would be best to find places of their own so that they could have their privacy.
I could definitely see myself living in a place like that. It was a huge, multi-story, white stucco home with a coral colored stone pathway leading up to the house and nothing but beach and crystal blue water for the backdrop.
When I was growing up, we'd always lived in the city so that my father could be close to the company, but we vacationed on the beach several times a year and I'd fallen in love with it. Something about the sounds of the waves crashing against the beach was so soothing. Like a lullaby to a baby.
The kitchen had a pale gray slate floor with white cabinets and dark gray stone countertops. All of the appliances were top of the line stainless steel. It looked like something right out of a Coastal Living Magazine.
"It was paintball. Not arcade games," Jinx explained to his sister.
She just laughed and shook her head. Honesty was absolutely beautiful with long, dark brown hair and big green eyes, and when she smiled, she radiated beauty and kindness. It was evident why the guys loved her so much.
"It's the only place we can go and shoot each other and not go to jail for it."
Chance laughed, but the smile slid off his face as his stormy green eyes met mine. He had revenge written all over him. It was not my fault that he sucked at paintball. He should've known not to stand out in the open for any length of time. I had the opportunity, and I took it. I shot him in the ass! Of course, it was an automatic disqualification, but it was worth it after all the times he'd killed me off during a game of Halo. He bitched all the way there about how bad his left ass cheek hurt. It was all I could do to contain my laughter.
"You must be Honor," she said, stepping forward and offering me her hand. "I'm Honesty, Jinx's sister, but I'm sure you've figured that out by now."
Linc wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple.
"She's also my better half," he said, causing her to blush.
It was obvious those two loved each other very much. It reminded me of the kind of love my mom and dad shared. The thought of them caused my heart to sink. I hoped to have that kind of love one day. The kind of love that caused a million butterflies to flutter in your stomach. The kind of love that took your breath away with just one look. Someday, maybe I'd have that.
"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so many nice things about you from the guys," I told her.
She welcomed me to the group and asked how they were treating me so far. I told her it was like working with two year olds when they argued about something at the studio, but for the most part, they treated me like one of the gang. She snorted and quickly covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed by the snort.
"I'll ask you again after you've travelled with them. Let me give you a few pointers. You know, tips for survival."
She lifted her pointer finger and began to count them down for me.
“1. Always lock the bathroom door. Even if you’re just brushing your teeth. These guys don't know the meaning of personal space.
2. Never, and I repeat, never go in the bathroom after Chance."
She scrunched up her nose and turned to him.
"Be kind to her, Chance. Use the fan and spray the air freshener."
Everyone laughed but Chance. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“3. Probably the most important of all: invest in some good earplugs, or sleep with your iPod. Those groupies can get pretty vocal."
I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment as I remembered my first night there and the red head chanting fuck me on the other side of that wall. My gaze shifted to Chance's, and he mouthed the word ‘sorry’.
She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. "You're going to do just fine with these guys," she whispered. "Want to help me get dinner on the table?"
"I would love to."
I jumped at the opportunity. I had hoped to get her alone to enlist her help in throwing Chance a surprise birthday party. It couldn't have worked out better. I just needed her to promise not to tell Linc. I didn't want to take a chance in the guys letting the cat out of the bag beforehand and ruining the surprise.
Once dinner was on the table, Honesty suggested that we all say something that we were thankful for. I listened with a lump in my throat as each one spoke from the heart, and even though little jabs were taken here and there, it was evident it came from the heart. It surprised me, being that they were big bad rocker guys.
"I'm thankful to be a part of the band. I look forward to touring with you guys. I'm also thankful for the opportunity to begin again," I admitted.
My fingers automatically went to my wrist, tracing the tattoo there. The table fell silent, all waiting for me to continue.
I wasn't ready yet to let them in on that part of my life, but I felt the need to say it out loud, because I'd come so far, and with each passing day, I was given the opportunity to begin again.
Linc broke the silence when he stood from the table. Something no one else had done. He talked about his struggle with drugs and alcohol, and the pressures of dealing with fame. It was when he began to profess his love for Honesty that tears started to build behind my eyes. They both had so much love and admiration for each other that it made my heart ache for just a taste of what they had.
When Linc dropped to one knee and produced a ring, you could have heard a pin drop, and when she said yes, I couldn't hold them back any longer. I felt so embarrassed, because there I was, crying in front of people that I barely knew. If anyone asked, I was going to blame it on the stress of being away from my uncle and my best friend. I was not going to admit to them that the holidays always got me down. Even though my parents died years ago, the holidays were always the worst. I missed us tag teaming in the kitchen to prepare all my dad's favorite dishes, and I missed our tradition of Christmas shopping the day after Thanksgiving
"I'm really happy for them," I said, breaking the silence in the car. "You ever had a serious relationship?" I asked Chance on our drive home.
He glanced over at me, and then back to the road. The bright lights from passing cars cast shadows across his handsome face, making it hard for me to read his expression.
"Define serious."
"You know. Exclusive. There's no one else you'd rather be with, and lasts more than a few months. Someone you think about every minute of every day. They're the first person you think of when you wake and the last person you think of before you close your eyes at night." He kept his eyes on the road and the traffic around us. He almost looked uncomfortable, so when he didn't respond, I continued. "My parents were high school sweethearts, and even through college, their love for one another never died. That was the kind of love my parents had."
I left out the part about how that was the kind of love I hoped to have one day.
"That sounds like a jail term to me," he admitted, and then laughed, but it was a nervous laugh with a twinge of sarcasm. I wondered what was behind that reaction.
"Do you believe in love, Chance?" I asked.
"No," he snapped, his tone short and bitter to my ears.
"Why not?"
What the hell? Why did I suddenly feel the need to get personal?
I held my breath, waiting for him to answer. I wouldn't have blamed him if he told me it was none of my business, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything about him. Not what was printed in the tabloids.
He exhaled loudly and ran his hand over the top of his head, his blue Mohawk bouncing back in place.
"Because, eventually, people leave. No matter how many times you ask them to stay, they still leave." He nervously chewed on his bottom lip, the metal of his lip ring clinking against his teeth. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"
I just shrugged my shoulders and watched the traffic whiz by us.
"I'm just trying to get to know you." I ran my fingers over the seam in the leather seat, avoiding eye contact. "Is that why you hook up with so many groupies?" I whispered, not really meaning for him to hear me. And wasn't I judging him by those damn articles in the news?
"Yes. They know the score. I get a quick fuck, and they get to brag about sleeping with a rock star. It's a win win situation if you ask me."
He answered with such finality that I knew this topic was closed. I'd probably over stepped my bounds, and I wouldn't be surprised if he kicked me out when we got back to his place.
I felt the tears build behind my eyes, but I refused to let myself cry again. Somewhere in his life someone had hurt him deeply, and that was a shame, because, deep down, I think Chance Roberts had a lot to give. I just think he was afraid of letting the public see that side of him. I think he hid behind the jokes and the partying. He wore it like a mask, a protective shield, and it broke my heart for him.
We pulled into the garage twenty-minutes later, and he killed the engine, but didn’t get out, and neither do I. We sat there for several minutes before he finally decided to speak.
"How about you?" he asked, staring straight ahead.
"What?"
"Have you had a serious relationship?"
I thought about it for a moment and said, "Yes. Blake Fisher; my freshman year at USC. We were both music majors. We dated for a year, exclusively, or, at least, it was on my part. I showed up at a frat party early to surprise him. Only, I was the one who was surprised. I caught him coming out of a bedroom with Chelsea Bond. They were both half dressed." I threaded my fingers together in my lap and concentrated on them. It still stung to think about it. How humiliating it was when his frat brothers laughed at me. They'd obviously known the whole time. Chance had the nerve to laugh, and it was like a slap to face. "What's so funny?" I snapped.
"College is all about finding yourself, Sparkles. Experiencing new things, you know? Girls Gone Wild and all that shit," he replied, waving his hand in the air.
"Yeah. Well, forget it. You're a guy, so I don't know why I even asked," I responded.
Fuck him. He'd probably never loved anyone. He'd told me he'd never been in a serious relationship. I guess that was good for all the women out there. Why get attached when thousands of women were offered free to him? I opened the car door and then slammed it hard, leaving him sitting inside.
I stood on the step under the porch light and dug around in my purse for the door key that he had given me that first night. When I looked over my shoulder, he was still sitting in the car, staring straight at me, so I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
***
Thirty minutes later, when he hadn't come inside, I showered and crawled in to bed and stared at the white ceiling. I was pretty sure he thought I was some psycho bitch. I was a hundred percent certain that I overreacted to what he'd said earlier. Hell. I could probably even blame it on PMS.
It was only a few days until the anniversary of my parents’ death, and with the holidays here, they were all I could think about for the past few days. I probably should've kept that last therapy appointment, but I had been feeling so much better. The last time I checked the time on my cell, it was 2 in the morning and I still hadn't heard him come in, so I rolled over, squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to sleep.
Chapter Five
Chance
I couldn't go inside. The whole day … no . . . the whole fucking weekend had been a rollercoaster for me. From the time Honor walked through the door at the Studio on Friday, I'd had a strange feeling in my gut, and now I was pissed at myself for the way I reacted to her tonight. My father's words rang in my ears.
You're a worthless piece of shit.
***
Yesterday morning, when I saw Honor standing in the kitchen with her cup of coffee, something inside me had changed. I couldn’t explain it, because it was a foreign feeling to me, but it was as if she was right where she belonged. We'd laughed so much over the last few days that if I didn't know any better, I'd say we knew each other in a former life.
When she asked me if I believed in love, I answered her truthfully. There was only one person in my entire life that I thought had loved me, but that person left when I was five. I didn’t know what I did wrong to cause her to leave. I didn’t know why my dad treated me the way he did, but the only thing I'd been able to come up with over the years was that I was not loveable.
I had my fair share of women who said they loved me, but, in reality, they loved the rock star. Not Chance Roberts, the man. Hell. They lined up after every show, and I got my pick of which one, if not all, that I got to take back to my room and fuck. But when it was all said and done, what was I left with? Not a fucking thing. I didn't deserve anything.
/> I didn't like those feelings, the feeling of needing someone in your life. That's why I never let myself get attached to someone because it was freaking me the fuck out. I backed my car out of the drive way and headed to the south side where all the hookers and drug pushers hung out This was not an area you wanted to be in, especially at this time of day, but nothing was going to stop me from getting what I needed. I needed to get a grip on the voices in my head, and that was the only thing that worked for me.
There were half naked women on every corner. All of which tried to flag me down and get me to stop. But pussy wasn't what I was looking for at the moment.
I spotted Johnny, or Johnny ‘Rocks’ as he was known by on the street, and for good reason. He was the go-to man when you were in the market for meth or heroin. He was hanging out in front of a rundown pawn store with bars on the windows and graffiti spray painted onto the brick.
When he scratched the side of his nose, I knew we were good to go. That was the signal we'd worked out last year when I'd been introduced to him. The signal let me know that there weren't any cops around and we were good to make the deal. I turned down the next alley and watched in my rearview mirror as he walked up to the passenger side and got in.
The smell of body odor filled my nose and made me want to gag. His ratty old jeans were stained and dirty, and his fingernails needed to be cut. I would never get his damn smell out of my car.
"Chance, my man. It's been a while." He shifted nervously, making the leather of the seat squeak beneath him. "Looking for a little ‘H’ tonight? If that's not your game, I've got some Molly that will make you fly, man. You'll be seeing mermaids and unicorns in no time."
I wasn't interested in anything but the heroin. It had been a while since I'd done any, but my conversation with Honor brought back some painful memories. The ones I would like to keep buried. The ones I so desperately tried not to feel. I needed to push them back down and throw the dirt back over them. Six feet under.