“What’s that, love?” he answered vaguely.
“While Mark’s here, which could be for months, I think it’s best we are never, and I do mean not ever, alone together.” She straightened up, continuing. “I can’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself and one touch from you, and I swear, I’m a goner. This has to stop.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but all he managed was a sharp inhale. His eyes grew wider as he continued to gape and stare. “Fucking bloody HELL!”
A look of alarm planted itself squarely on her face. This was obviously not on her list of expected reactions. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh shit, oh fuck, we’re in for it now. And it’s all my fault.” He raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I am so sorry, love. I never intended to do that. Whatever happens, know you have a home with me, wherever I am.” He looked at her with eyes that begged forgiveness.
“What the — what?” she asked again.
“I mean it. You and Zach both. I didn’t enter into this lightly with you, and when he sees this, well, hell, if he tells you to get out, your home is with me. Fuck!” And there’s that word again, he realized. Home. Home is just another word for you.
“Just what in the hell are you talking about, JT?” An edge of temper showed in her speaking-to-a-moron tone.
He reached out a hand as if to touch her then let it fall away, empty and unused. “Your neck. I left a love mark on your neck that you definitely did not have when you got on this elevator. I’m sorry, Kori, I really am. I smelled your hair, and I got…shit, I got jealous somehow, and I bit down on your neck too hard, and now…”
“And now I really want that cigarette,” she mumbled, glancing up at the water-spotted ceiling tile and spotting the smoke alarm. She lit a cigarette anyway, then stared nonseeing into the bluegray smoke ribboning from the end. She blew out hard, her thoughts as confused as the roiling cloud of smoke. “You did what? You smelled my hair?”
“Yeah. It smelled earthy and musky and…how you smell after making love. I could smell it on you, smell him on you, and I got jealous. I know it’s stupid and I’m an idiot. I’ve got no grounds to even feel possessive. But…I did. And still sort-of do.” He exhaled harshly, trying to vent the tendrils of panic squeezing through his brain.
“Is it that visible?” she asked.
“Unless you plan on wearing turtleneck sweaters or tying your hair in a knot under your chin, yeah, it’s visible.”
“If I try to hide it, then it’s even more obvious. If I act like it’s nothing, then it is nothing. I won’t mention it at all. If Mark does, or anyone else for that matter, I’ll say he did it.”
JT still looked concerned. “Are you sure he’ll believe that? I mean, did he…” he trailed off, really not wanting to ask, but needing to know, all the same.
Kori’s glare pierced straight into his brain. “Do you really want the details, JT?”
He glanced sheepishly toward the floor. “Uh, no, I guess not.”
She reached over to the elevator panel and pressed the button for the first floor, then dropped her half-smoked cigarette to the tile, grinding it out with the toe of her shoe.
“Let’s go to the bar after all. I could use a stiff drink before I face Mark again, and at least then I won’t be lying when I tell him that’s where we were.” She looked down at the squashed cigarette butt. “I’m such a sleaze,” she mumbled.
JT stood a few steps away, but he heard the quiet comment. “No, you’re not.”
“Well, what would you call me, then? Christ, both of you in the same afternoon… I can’t be a whore, I didn’t get paid.” She turned sad, guilt-ridden eyes to his. “C’mon JT, what else could you say I am?”
He considered her anxious face. “A beautiful woman, both inside and out, who’s stolen the hearts of two men and is ripping herself to shreds.” The elevator doors slid open to a bustling dinnertime hallway, cutting off any further exchange. “Let’s finish this over that drink.” He offered her his arm, but she stuffed her hands into her front pockets and started down the hall.
Korina borrowed the telephone and dialed up to her room the moment she and JT arrived in the hotel bar. She spoke softly, and JT turned his back, pretending not to listen. He excused his eavesdropping with the need to know what she said so he could tell the same story. In truth, he wanted to hear if she spoke to Mark in the same tender tone she used with him. Ah, jealousy, such a lovely emotion…
JT told his conscience to go to hell.
They sat at a table near the back of the room. It was the dinner hour, and fairly quiet. The only other patrons were two business-suit types sitting at the long marble bar.
“They’re going to meet us here, then we’re going to grab some dinner. Do you want to join us? We’re just going across the lobby to the restaurant.”
“I always want to spend time with you, Kori. But why don’t we wait to see how Mark feels about me tagging along before I say yes? He may want to have you all to himself.” He caught the eye of the waitress, and waved her over. “What would you like to drink, love?”
She considered as the waitress neared the table. “Just a glass of white wine. Anything stronger probably wouldn’t be wise. ‘Cause Mark said he wanted to talk to you when they got here, and I’m pretty certain about what. I’m sure you’ll be welcome to come along for dinner, JT.”
The waitress arrived and JT ordered her glass of wine and a draft beer for himself. “Bring an extra draft, and a Shirley Temple, too. With lots of cherries, if you would. We have two more joining us soon.” She assured him that extra cherries were not a problem, then smiled and went to fill their order.
Korina drummed her fingers on the tabletop, her gaze constantly jumping from JT’s face to the open doorway, then back again. JT reached out to brush his fingertips along the side of her hand. “You said you think you know what Mark wants to say to me. Is it about his condition?”
She looked at him with eyes that threatened tears. “Four months, JT. That’s all they think he has left. Just four months before his systems shut down. Dammit, it’s not fair.” Her last words were a hoarse whisper. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
“Oh, God, Kori, that’s all? I’m so sorry, love,” he said, and meant it. No matter how much he wanted her for himself, he hated that she had to hurt so deeply for that to happen. He squeezed her hand; the waitress’s arrival with their drinks cut off any further words of comfort. JT silently handed her a bill and waved away the change.
Korina slipped her hand from under his and shakily swiped at the tear and its trail. Her other hand was quaking just as badly when she picked up her wineglass and downed half of it in one long swallow. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the open door of the bar; her eyes widened, and a smile that didn’t quite reach them appeared on her face. “They’re here.”
****
They talked about nothing in particular while finishing their drinks, and the same at the restaurant while they perused the menus and ordered. JT wondered when Mark was going to get on with what he wanted to say.
Mark told Zach to find the restroom and wash his hands, which were sticky with cherry juice. Once Zach was out of earshot, he reached for Korina’s hand and looked at JT. “I asked you to join us because I have something to tell you, and I have to get it said before Zach comes back. I don’t want him to know just yet.”
JT glanced down to their joined hands, then back up at Mark. “This sounds serious,” he said, leaning forward over the table. “Did something happen?” Here it comes. Play it stupid, JT, like you don’t already know.
Mark inhaled deeply, met his wife’s gaze, then looked back to JT. “You could say that. What happened was eleven years ago, but it’s finally catching up with me now.” He shifted his stare to the tablecloth and sighed out the rest of the deep breath. “I’m very ill. As a matter of fact, JT, I’m dying. And we can’t do anything to stop it.”
JT leaned back in his chair and summoned what he hoped w
as a convincing look of shock. “You’re what? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to get into all the details, and you can ask me any questions you might have later. Right now, we don’t have a lot of time to talk. The medications I’ve been taking to manage my pain have wiped out my liver and my kidneys. And before you start telling me to get a second opinion, or that there’s still hope, I’ll tell you that I have, and that there isn’t any. The damage is too severe, they don’t transplant both organs to someone who’s as bad off as I am, and even if they did, I don’t know that I would be willing to live in constant fear of infection and rejection.”
Korina bit her lip, her gaze shifting between the two men. “I hope this doesn’t sound insensitive, Mark, because I don’t mean it to be, but I’m a rather blunt sort. How long?”
Mark surprised them both with a slight smile. “Actually, I find being up-front is best. No dancing around like the doctors did when they told me. Hell, I don’t have the time to waste anymore. I’ve got about four months, give or take. Then, they said, I’ll go downhill, and fast.” He glanced toward the hall where the bathrooms, and Zach, were. Still no sign of him.
JT wondered exactly where this conversation was leading. Did he want Korina to go home? Have her quit? “Damn. I’m so sorry, Mark. I don’t know what else to say. I guess you’ll be wanting Korina to come home as soon as she can, then.” He looked at her sad eyes. “You’re taking an indefinite paid leave. Go home, be with him. And as long as we’re being candid, I have to say I know money can be a worry at a time like this, and, well, after. But you’ll have your job. We rarely boot anyone out of the family.”
He looked back to Mark. “She won’t be kicked out into the street, Mark. I don’t want you adding that to your worries. As long as we’re still a band, she’s on the payroll. They’ll both be looked after.”
“I’m glad to know that, JT. I heard you have a big heart, and I’m happy that rumor is true. I have to admit something; I knew before I urged Kori to take your job offer. And that’s why I pushed her. I wanted to be sure she had a support system around her, and a job that paid well enough so she’d be able to more than just get by. But she’s not leaving.” He looked toward the bathrooms again, knowing they were now on borrowed time. “Neither are we. I refuse to sit at home and die quietly, and I won’t put Zach through it, either. I want him to have happy memories of his last days with me. So, as long as it’s okay with you, we’re all tagging along.”
They’re staying? Well, fantastic and bloody hell, both. This is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure. “Are you sure you’re up to it, mate? I mean, if you’re worried about the job, don’t be. I meant what I said. But the constant travel can be exhausting. I don’t want to make it any worse for you.”
Mark looked to the hall again. “Here comes Zach. Let’s wind this up now. We’re all staying, if you’ll let us. And don’t tell anyone else for now. I’d rather they not know until we tell Zach. And that’ll be when it’s too obvious to hide anymore.”
JT looked down and saw Mark was still holding Korina’s hand. He placed his hand on top of both and gave a gentle squeeze. “You’re with us until you say otherwise. And it stays a secret. You can trust me.”
****
Korina snuggled into Mark’s arms, exhausted on every level, but knowing he wanted to talk. This was their favorite time of the day, even when she had to struggle to stay awake. Warm, safe in his embrace, and being able to talk in their own version of shorthand, each knowing what the other meant without drawn-out explanations. Skin-to-skin contact had a way of cutting out unnecessary words.
“Telling JT was difficult,” he murmured into her hair. “Do you really think he won’t tell?”
Korina yawned. “He may talk a lot, but he doesn’t really say much. He can keep a secret. Count on it.” She nestled further into his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed this.”
“So did I. I love just holding you. Kori, do you think we’re doing the right thing, staying with the tour until I can’t anymore?”
“Whatever will make you happiest is the right thing. Don’t second-guess. Zach will cherish these memories far more than watching you waste away while he’s being sent to school every day.” She yawned again. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
He squeezed her tighter. “That’s okay, it’s been a long, hard day.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep, we can talk in the morning. It’ll be wonderful to wake up next to you again.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice was quiet and half-asleep. “I can stay awake as long as you need me to.”
“I’m sure. I’ll still be here in the morning,” he assured her. “Now get some rest. You never do get enough sleep.”
He stayed awake long after she drifted off, her head still on his chest. I could die a happy man if you’re in my arms, just like this, when I go. That thought followed him down into the darkness of a restless slumber.
****
JT lay in bed, sleep once again elusive. His arms felt empty and useless, the bed too big to lie in alone. His mind, on the other hand, seemed too small to contain the crowding thoughts and images vying to gain a moment of his attention.
He’d tried shutting them out, but they elbowed their way back in. Overpowering them by trying to remember every lyric to every song he’d ever recorded didn’t work either. The verses came easily, and too soon he ran out of songs. The facilitated boredom of attempting to recall each city of the last tour, and the order the band played them, failed too. He remembered every one.
Finally he just let them have their way, streaming through his mind unchecked, but not letting them pause long enough to really consider any, thinking that maybe if he stopped fighting them, they would pass through and ultimately leave him alone.
Her face, and every expression he’d ever seen flit across her animated features, appeared over and over. Blue eyes that leant themselves toward green when she was upset or angry; those same blue eyes dark as the nighttime sky when she was lost in passion; the way the tiny flecks of gold in them twinkled with her happiness; and the way the corners crinkled into a thousand rays of sunshine when she smiled. The piercing glare of her single raised brow that either asked a question without saying a word or told him what an idiot she thought he was.
I’ve never been one to let someone put me in my place, as it were, but she can do it with just one little look. And I gladly I take it from her and retreat, meek as a schoolboy. You’ve got it bad for her, Blackwood.
Her high cheekbones and full lips that gave her a striking sort of beauty; not model cookie-cutter pretty but something more, something that made heads turn and eyes stare. He couldn’t lay a finger on just what was so impressive when her features combined to make her face. It just looked so….alive. Radiant. Like she was taking each moment to savor, whether good or bad, and devouring the emotional essence of the experience. Her beauty flowed from a vitality rooted deep inside, a driving passion, a full awareness… she reminds me of me.
Her assessing and almost dismissive appraisal when they first spoke and he ended up stealing her lighter; he could read that glance even then. She saw him as just another come-and-go momentary diversion in her satisfy-the-rich-tourists photolab job. The defiant, almost arrogant tilt of her head when she assumed he was going to give her a firm dressing-down for her fictionalizing him.
Her lips red and swollen from that first kiss he almost didn’t steal. And her eyes flashing angry green through the midnight blue desire when he leaned in and tasted those lips for the first time anyway.
The absolute terror in her eyes when faced with having to climb down from the high catwalk, and her tempting bottom in his face as she trusted him through her fear to descend the ladder. His own humility at her absolute faith to get her to the ground safely. No one, ever, has trusted me that way; without question and with such deep certainty. She blows me away and humbles me, both at once.
At long last, shortly before the sun o
vertook the horizon, the images slowed and faded, leaving him alone at last to rest.
Finally, they’ve let me be. I’m alone with whatever I want to think now, instead of those memories traveling through like a demented version of “This Is Your Life.”
Alone.
For now.
He rolled over and clung to the pillow (her pillow), sleep finally claiming his weary mind.
****
Resuming travel on the tour buses signaled their return to the normal daily schedule of concert days and nights. There were no more worries about airport delays, double-checked passports, extra-high security in certain cities’ airports causing the band to be filtered to the dank, windowless rooms where they were questioned incessantly for no reason and inspected in every way but having a gloved finger probing in areas normally reserved as ‘exit only.’ Now the only time concerns were heavy traffic delays and construction reroutes.
Travel time on the road was mostly long spells of boredom, watching out the windows as the miles and highway scenery of America sped by. Their distractions were surfing the net, movies on DVD, reading books, and writing snippets of music or lyrics, sometimes alone but more often in collaboration with one another.
There was also plenty of time available for sleeping, not that any of them really got any; semi-comfortable naps in the reclining seats or in the bunks, or more cozy but often broken sleep in the large bed at the back of the bus. No matter how often they toured, not one of them could sleep through the winding curves, steep hills and stretches of uneven pavement.
The only real time to be off and relax was the day of the show. They’d normally arrive the afternoon before, settle into their hotel rooms, and enjoy a night of peaceful sleep in a bed that didn’t bump or move, then have the day of the concert free until three o’clock sharp, when they’d all pile into limousines or the tour bus again (depending on whether they were returning to the hotel that night, or leaving for the next city) for sound check at the venue, followed by dinner, showers, nervous relaxation, and finally taking the stage. It was those few hours under the spotlights that made it all worthwhile.
Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll) Page 28