by Hood, Holly
The guitars take over and Slade turns around looking for me. He grins and wipes sweat from his forehead. His tattoos glisten against the flames and lights—it’s sexy.
He touches the spot on his chest right where his heart is—it’s sweet. I smile.
***
“That was amazing guys,” April says interrupting our relaxation session in the bands room. The guys are worn out. All I can think about is getting to a bed so I can close my eyes and steal a few hours of sleep.
“Thanks. I think we might grab a hotel for the night,” Kidd announces standing up, he takes the baby from Karsen. “It's hard for Xavier to sleep on the bus.”
Oz nods. “And it’s hard for me to bring groupies back with my nephew on the bus.”
April pulls out her phone. “Before we get to sleeping and groupies, I have a few reporters outside dying to get a few questions answered for the papers tomorrow.”
I sigh. “I guess I will wait for you to get done.” I squeeze his leg prepared to leave.
April shakes her head. “They want all of you. You can sleep when you’re dead. What is better than supporting your husband’s dreams?”
Stabbing you. That’s something better. I swallow down the urge to slap her and take a seat.
Slade plants kisses on my jaw and slips his fingers through my hair tugging me closer. “It will be over before we know it.”
Gut Wrenching
I slam the bathroom door shut and lock it. And release all the tension and stress that has been building the entire interview.
I lean over the sink and cry. I don’t know where this is coming from but it’s coming. I’ve dealt with these issues for months now. The interview and the questions made me even more emotional.
Questions like tell me about your family. Where are you from? Are your parents proud?
I want my dad. I want him back to not be proud of my choices, to tell me when I am doing the wrong thing. To help me figure all of this shit out.
I’ll never be okay and in control without him. It’s not true, you don’t grow into an adult. You always need your dad.
I drop down and sob into my knees, my legs wet from crying. I’m empty.
I stand back up and grab the little glass on the sink. If Jesus could why can’t I? I close my eyes and when I open them I’ve made water into wine.
I finish the glass and sink to the floor waiting for the pain in my stomach to lessen, for the bad thoughts to go away. I close my eyes, and sure enough they disappear.
Now things are tolerable.
I drop my head back. I can’t stay in here too long or Slade will worry something is wrong with me.
“What’s the problem, Doll?”
My stomach sinks. “This can’t be real.” I drag a hand down my face trying to throw myself back into reality.
“Oh, it’s real.” Hutch leans against the sink and stares at me. “You didn’t forget we are connected through magic did you?”
“You are a figment of my imagination.” I shut my eyes.
“Does this feel like something your imagination can conjure up, Doll?”
I scream, pulling out of his grip. I’m bleeding all over myself.
“Better be careful. You don’t want to go too deep.” He tosses the shard of glass on the ground. “Don’t want everyone thinking you are trying to kill yourself.”
“Hope!” Slade pounds on the door. “What’s going on?”
He bangs louder when I say nothing. It’s hard to speak when Hutch is inches away from my face his breath warm against my skin.
“Say something,” he says. “You don’t want him coming in here seeing you like this.”
I pull away from his hands, he tries to touch my hair. “I’m okay. Just an upset stomach. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He backs off. I push myself up and go to the sink and clean myself up before going back out there.
Hutch runs a hand up my back, his fingers trailing from the bottom of my spine to my shoulder where he grabs hold. “Are you feeling crazy yet?”
I close my eyes and keep wringing my hands through the water. This is not real. This is not real.
When I open them he is gone.
I splash water on my face and look at my wrist. There is nothing there but the tattoo Slade gave me a long time ago.
“You okay?” Slade ask as soon as I come out of the bathroom and sit down beside him on the sofa.
“Yeah. I think I am fine.” I squeeze his hand and offer a kiss.
Guidance
Slade jams the key into the front door and groans. “I thought you were going to call someone to fix this?” He uses his shoulder and bullies his way into the house.
I give Karsen a wave and eye the door frame. “I didn’t get around to it.”
He drops our bags on the floor. “It’s one phone call.” He sniffs the air. “Why the fuck does the house smell like cigarettes?”
I swallow down the anxiety and open the windows.
“If your brothers smoked in here while we were gone I’m going to kick their asses,” Slade informs me. He drops his keys into the fancy bowl I bought at a flea market. “It’s fucking rancid in here.”
I tug on one of the old windows chipping a nail. “That’s what happens when you buy an old home.” I study my chipped fingernail polish.
“Elliot!” Slade lifts a skateboard off the floor. “Easton!”
I roll my eyes and collect cereal bowls. “I didn’t even see any cars outside. They’re not home.”
“Well, someone is smoking and eating everything in this house,” Slade shoves one of the dining room chairs under the table and picks up garbage on the floor.
“Maybe they left,” I suggest.
I head down the hallway for the guest bathroom. I unbutton my jean shorts and sit down on the toilet studying myself in the full-length mirror across the way. Who thought it was good to put a full-length mirror in front of a toilet?
“I could use a few days a week in the gym,” I say to myself. All the tour dates and pigging out with Karsen has put a few pounds on me.
I wipe, flush the toilet and step out of my shorts. I take off my tank top and drop it to the ground and pull my floral bra off and toss it. It’s not that bad, the extra pounds.
I spin around in the mirror, checking out my ass. If anything, I have more junk in the trunk and that is never a bad thing.
I tug my hair free from the hair tie and sigh--happy to be home. And to be home without my brothers anywhere in sight where I can do things like get naked and contemplate if I need to go on a diet.
“What are you doing?”
Slade is standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed, and he has a big grin on his face as he stands there staring at me.
“I don’t know. I’ve been on the tour bus for two weeks. It just felt right to get naked.” He steps closer. “You don’t think I’m getting fat do you?”
He moves my hair off of my shoulders. “You’re perfect.”
He kisses my shoulders and moves along to my collarbones.
“I know, but I’ve gained a couple pounds. Can you tell? Do I need to get toned?” Slade can eat anything he wants and never looks like anything but amazing, maybe all the singing and jumping around on stage.
“Shut up. You’re nothing but beautiful.” He moves to my mouth, pressing his lips into mine. “This is nice.”
I nod in agreement and work him out of his jeans. “We can do it anywhere we want right now.”
He nods in agreement leading me into the hallway. He leaves his jeans there and takes me by the hands steering me through to the dining room.
“Right here?” I raise an eyebrow watching him undress the rest of the way. He nods, and I lift myself onto the dining room table.
He swats the stupid centrepiece we got as a wedding gift out of the way. “I’ve always hated that thing.”
It crashes to the floor—and it’s a beautiful sound.
I live for moments like these. Moments where I can be
free and not give a shit about anything but what is happening between Slade and I.
It feels right. And that’s what I need now. I need right. I need to feel something other than grief, and anger and complete sadness.
Maybe what I should do is listen for my brothers to come in the door. But I don’t. I’ve had a long couple of weeks and we are home and I am being selfish and living in the now.
And then someone claps—not the reaction I was hoping for when I am giving my husband a blow job on all fours like a wild animal.
I push off of Slade and fall right there on the god damn ground.
Sucker
“She knows her way around a penis,” incredibly dark and tall guy says. He moves around the debris from the wedding centrepiece and extends his hand to help me to my feet.
I don’t know who would take it after being caught in the act. I’d much rather just stay on the floor with the trash and hope someone tosses me out never to be seen again.
“How in the hell?” Slade’s feet hit the floor, and he meets up with incredibly dark and tall guy that just saw his penis in my mouth. My stomach hurts. “What are you doing here?”
I sigh, getting on my knees and then upright. I used to think Slade was a nice guy, but after abandoning me to chat it up with this guy I only want to punch him in the balls.
“I’ll explain once you put that thing away.” He cocks an eyebrow at Slade’s penis and smirks at me. “Or did you want to finish first because I can wait? Or join.” He shrugs.
I reach my clothes and get dressed. I’m not sure where the rest of my stuff went so I search the hallway.
“What the fuck?” I pull the folded shorts off of my stairs. These were not where I left these. So either this guy is a big pervert or something else put them there.
I hop into them and push the eerie feeling away. Anymore this feeling lingers everywhere I go and I am beginning to think I am not crazy. That something is going on around me all the time.
Back in the dining room Slade is cleaning up our mess and the tall stranger is leaned against our wall watching him.
“Hope this is Dax.” Slade finally gives the guy a name. “Dax, this is Hope. As I am sure you probably figured out.”
Dax looks at me and I look at Dax. We have a standoff.
“Nice to meet you.”
I give Slade a look.
“Dax is my brother.”
I study him. Slade is shorter and muscular, dark hair, blue eyes. Dax is tall and willowy, brown hair, and what looks to be green eyes.
“Same father different mother,” Dax explains. He looks at Slade. “Why do I get the feeling you haven’t told her about me?”
I nod.
I cross my arms and look at Slade.
“Because I didn’t think I needed to. I never thought you would come around again.” Slade takes a seat at the dining room table. “You want to tell me why you came?”
I fiddle with the bottom of my t-shirt waiting for him to say something.
“I got into some trouble back home. This was the first place I thought to go.”
Oh Lord. Not this shit. Not now.
“What the hell did you do now?” Slade doesn’t beat around the bush.
I flip on the kitchen light and take a couple steps into the kitchen before Dax confesses.
“I killed someone.”
Slade’s quiet.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away. I can’t believe this.
Unknown
“What do you mean you killed someone?” Slade asks.
That’s what I want to know too. I take a seat, too afraid to leave. I need to know what the hell is going on with this guy.
“A shaman.”
“A shaman! What the fuck, Dax?” I assume killing a shaman isn’t good, judging from the language coming from Slade’s mouth. “Shit… fuck. And the first place you come is here?”
“What else was I going to do?”
Slade sighs. “Not drag me into this.”
“Then I’ll leave. I knew you would blow me off just like before.”
I flinch at the sound of something thudding, it shakes the whole house.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you joking me right now?” Slade’s anger is way worse than I ever heard. “If you weren’t my brother I would kill you.”
“Then it’s settled. What room should I put my bag in?” What an arrogant prick. If he thinks Slade would just open our home to him without talking to me first he doesn’t know his brother anymore.
“The last room on the left upstairs.” I stand corrected. I fight back the anger and betrayal and stand. If Slade will not do something I will.
“You don’t think you should talk to your wife first before you let a murderer into our house?” Yeah I said it. I stand in the doorway, looking at Slade waiting for a logical response. I don’t get why he is letting this guy call the shots.
“It’s only temporary.” Slade turns away, picks up the mess in the dining room and leaves the room. Dread stays behind mocking me. As well as his psycho brother that now is a problem for us all.
“Well, I guess you’ve won for now.” I glare at him, so pissed off I can’t breathe. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t knock some sense into him.” And with that I walk away.
***
“What do you want me to do? Throw him out on the street?” Slade tosses our throw pillows off the bed one by one. “He’s my brother for fuck sakes. You have two living here and you don’t see me bitching.”
I take off my rings and place them in the tiny glass bowl next to our bed and pick up the lotion. “That doesn’t mean that’s what I want.” I squeeze lotion in my hands and set it back on the nightstand. “I didn’t imagine our first year married muddled with family members and murder.”
Slade slips his shirt over his head and unbuttons his jeans. Instead of throwing them in the laundry basket I keep inside the walk-in closet, he throws them over the chair by the window. “I’ll take care of it. I’d be an ass to throw him on the street considering what the hell happened.”
I lift my brush and work it through my hair, still annoyed. “I’m sick of always helping everyone out. When is it going to just be about us?”
“Really?” He jerks up the blankets on the bed. “You sound like a whiny brat right now. This is life. Things happen, things you might not want anything to do with. You can either help or be an asshole.”
“Sometimes you have to be the asshole. You used to be good at it.” If he still was we wouldn’t have my brothers and now his brother living with us.
I put the brush down and stare at myself in the mirror. Dark circles were never my thing and now they radiate from me, they are fused with my soul. I shake the thought of premature aging out of my head and snap the light off and climb into bed.
“Good night.” He kisses me on the cheek and drops back onto his pillows.
“You mean you have nothing to say about my asshole comment?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. You’re being a whiny brat right now. Maybe after you get some sleep you will see things clearer.”
I huff and roll over, my back to him, I slip my hands under the pillow and close my eyes. But sleep isn’t coming. Music is playing down the hall. And if I can hear it I am sure Slade does.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I sit up and groan. “I am married to a man in a band and I can’t sleep in my own house in peace?!” I walk to the door and fling it open, heading down the hallway. I open the first door where Elliot sleeps and find nothing but the stale stench of old socks and an unmade bed.
I throw open the next door, Easton’s room and find just about the same besides the television being on and his window open. I slam the door and move on to the last bedroom and open the door.
“What the hell is going on?”
Slade is behind me at this point. He grabs me by the waist and moves me out of the way.
“We were just playing around,” Dax says, dropping the cigarette in his hand rig
ht there on the carpet, he snuffs it out with his foot. Elliot puts his out in his beer can and sits down on the bed avoiding eye contact with me. And Easton tries hiding his beer behind his back.
“They aren’t even twenty-one.” I take a deep breath to keep from knocking Dax’s head off his shoulders. “I want him gone. Figure out what the heck is wrong with him and fix it because he will not corrupt my brothers.”
I push past Slade and go back down the hallway to our bedroom. Slade tells him how bad he pissed me off. I don’t know if I believe his sincerity. I don’t know what to believe.
Even bigger problem
Hutch was chasing me last night in my dream. It was awful. So much so my shoulders and back hurt and I can’t shake the horrible feeling as I sit at the kitchen table.
I can’t get Hutch’s taunting cackle out of my head. He’s always around. It makes it hard to breathe. Shit, it makes it hard to do anything. Especially after a night filled with dreams of him torturing me.
“Pass the ketchup,” Elliot says from beside me. Slade was nice enough to make breakfast for everyone, by which I mean order out and have it delivered to the house.
I lift the bottle and hand it over and stare at my croissant. I’m not very hungry. And his brother is a loud eater. He’s loud at everything he does. They way he talks, the way he slams his fist and hands on the table for extra emphasis.
I blink away the urge to yell when his knife slices against my fine china. Fucking douche.
“Slade was showing me the music video you were in for the band,” Dax says doing his best to make conversation with me. Probably something Slade told him to do. “You’re a natural.”
“I’m good at more than penis,” I bite back. I lift my glass of orange juice and take a big drink so I don’t have to say anything else.
“Slade says you used to dance ballet and that you are a really good singer.” Dax settles into his seat, I guess he got his fill of free food.
“Slade sure told you a lot about me, yet I know nothing about you. I never even knew who you were until the other day.” Speaking of the other day. “Did you break into our house?”