by Amity Cross
"I don't want to go back to the studio."
"Why?"
"Do you ask anything else other than, why?"
"It's a good question," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Yeah, if you're a cop."
"Why?"
This time he narrowed his eyes at me. "You think if you irritate me enough, I'll leave?"
I decided to push a little harder. "Why?"
He picked up a dog-eared copy of Hello magazine and started flipping through the pages. "You don't want to talk about yourself, I get it. I could be just as crazy as that dude was. It is fuckin' LA after all. Craziest mother fuckin' town I was ever in."
Turning my head away from him, I surveyed the room, the coughing kids, the crying baby in the corner, the elderly man and his wife an aisle over…and the nurse from before throwing sexy eyes at Rob, hoping he'd glance her way and see she wanted a go.
"That nurse is giving you bedroom eyes," I declared loudly, making everyone turn. The nurse flushed scarlet and ducked behind a curtain.
Rob just grunted, flicking over another page in the magazine.
"Do you like men or something?" I asked.
"I like women just fine. In fact, I like fucking pretty things with colorful hair."
I snorted and wound my arms around my stomach. Yeah, so I probably deserved that.
"Okay," he declared, casting his gaze around the waiting room. "How about twenty questions?"
I stared at him and wondered how old he was.
"Since you, one, want to insult me…your savior...and two, don't want to talk about yourself, ask me whatever you want."
I hugged my arms tighter around my stomach. "Whatever?"
"Whatever." He grinned at me, his lip pulling up more on one side than the other.
"Are you always this nice to women?"
"No."
"Didn't you grow up right?"
"I wasn't a very good kid," he said with a grimace.
"Why?"
"Single Mum who didn't give a fuck. Revolving door asshole boyfriends with addiction problems and violent tendencies. No leash."
I started to feel like a number one place-getting bitch. "Sorry. I didn't-"
He waved a hand at me. "Whatever."
"Why don't you want to go back to the studio?"
"Hmm?" he asked, like I'd distracted him from his thoughts.
"The studio. You said you were outside when you heard… Why don't you want to go back?"
He was silent for a minute. Wondering if he should answer, I guess. "The guys were talking about their favorite positions now that they don't fuck around."
"Sex?" I asked bluntly.
Rob nodded.
"That's fucking disgusting."
"It's one thing shooting the shit about a one night stand, but another talking about your fucking girlfriend like that."
"It sounds very chivalrous of you, but I bet you were just jealous."
"Yep." He didn't even try and deny it. He just said 'yep' like it was the stupidest thing in the world.
"You're single?"
"Yep."
My heart fluttered and I didn't understand. I didn't want that. Not with anybody. "Why?"
He shrugged.
I didn't know the guy, so I didn't push the envelope. People were single for all kinds of reasons, not all of them bad. Maybe he just liked being free. I sure did.
Remembering his calloused hands, I asked, "What do you play?"
He curled up the magazine. "Drums."
"What's your band called?"
"Affliction."
I snorted.
"What?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
I shrugged.
"Don't you like our stuff?"
"I like it. You have a reputation."
"I'm the last one left," he said, giving me a suggestive wink. "So, that reputation only applies to me."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Depends who's asking."
I didn't want to ask, so I said nothing. Just because the guy saved me from getting my throat slit, didn't mean I was going to let him fuck me as a reward. I wasn't a hooker and I definitely wasn't that slutty.
"Are you from LA?" he asked. "Your skin is too pale to be from here."
He'd noticed the color of my skin? Was this guy for real? "No."
"Then were are you from?"
Stiffening, I edged away from him. "I thought I was asking the questions?"
"Lilly Hunter?"
We both looked up at the sound of my name.
"See you later," I said, standing, aware that my joints were starting to ache.
Rob shook his head. "I'll wait until you get out."
"You're fucking crazy, you know that?"
Laughing, he said, "Yeah. Probably."
The female doctor was nice, I'll give her that. I think she saw a lot of this kind of thing working in the emergency department. The whole thing was like an episode of Law and Order SVU. They took photos of my injuries for the cops, not that they'd ever catch the guy, but it was just bureaucracy one-oh-one. She cleaned out the slice on my arm and slapped on some kind of cream and a sticky gaze thing on it, declaring that it was too shallow for stitches. She tested my limbs, pressing my ribs to check for cracks, flashed a light in my eyes, asked me all kinds of embarrassing questions. Did the bad man touch me on my naughty parts, that kind of thing.
Once she was done giving me the once over, another cop came in and asked me more of the same questions. I guess I'd had time to calm down, but my answers were still the same. Thanks to Rob, I'd gotten out of it with just the cut on my arm and a couple of bruises. Today was a lucky one, I supposed.
When they showed me back to the waiting room to sign some discharge papers, Rob was still where I'd left him, his legs stretched out in front of him like a lazy prick. He didn't see me at first, so I just took the chance to stare at him. He was really handsome. The kind of handsome that you saw in a magazine and thought about fucking. Regular people didn't get men like that, because it was all an unobtainable fantasy. I was a purple haired, tattooed, wannabe tough chick and he was just in the right place at the wrong time.
I sensed an attachment forming and my head started to hurt. Best to leave him behind.
"Could you call a cab for me?" I asked the sexy-eye nurse from before.
"Sure thing." She turned and picked up the phone and that's when I felt him standing behind me.
"You trying to sneak out?" Rob asked.
"Not used to women blowing you off, huh?" I retorted.
"I'm usually the one doing the sneaking."
"Thought so."
"What did the doctor say?"
Starting to feel tired, I rattled off the diagnosis. "I'm okay. The cut was shallow. Just a couple of bruises. Nothing life threatening. They're sending me home."
"Cab will be five minutes," the nurse said and I didn't even look at her. Who wanted to see another woman try and flirt with a guy you couldn't have?
"Thanks for everything," I said. I didn't like goodbyes, so I just left it at that. Walking past him, I went out into the night to wait for my ride.
I kinda knew he'd follow and when he stood beside me, I rolled my eyes. There was no doubt my lady bits liked that he wasn't done with me yet and I felt my juices start to manufacture like I was some kind of sex factory waiting to start production.
I was just turned on because he was a total hottie and had saved me from a crazy junkie with a knife.
When the cab pulled up, he held the door open for me as I slid into the back.
"Bye," I said, gazing up at him.
Smiling, he said, "Later." Later, like he'd be seeing me soon. Fat chance.
The door closed and the cab drove off and at the last second, I glanced back and watched Rob as he raised a hand to wave. Automatically, I waved back, wondering if he'd go back inside and stick his dick in that pretty nurse.
I couldn't afford friendships. Especially not with rock stars with high profiles. I kne
w exactly who he was the moment he said 'Affliction' and knew that all contact had to cease. I could dye my hair purple and get all the tattoos I wanted, but I still looked the same to those that mattered. The only thing I had going for me was anonymity.
And I had to keep it if I wanted to go on existing in the land of the living.
Rob
I thought about Lilly all night.
Not like that. I didn't just want to fuck her - she was too nice to be used for a bit of fun. There was no doubt she was fucking stunning, what with her purple hair, blue eyes and tattoo, but it was something else. The way she'd grabbed on to me like I was her lifeline. Nobody had ever needed me like that in my whole entire life…and fuck it felt good.
Sitting with her in that waiting room had been the calmest I'd felt in months. The outside world and its stupid fucking expectations didn't matter. Whatever fallout from my temper tantrum in the studio didn't matter. I didn't want to fall in fucking love, but sitting there with Lilly was the most fun I'd had in a very long time and it made me feel bloody hollow. She'd asked me questions and actually fucking listened to the answers.
Then, I'd packed her into a cab and watched it drive off, a shock of purple hair in the rear windscreen and a small hand waving goodbye. I just let her go and stood there feeling like I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life. Like being a punk kid with a problem with authority wasn't enough of a fuck up.
What did I want with her? I didn't fucking know.
When I finally turned my phone on, it was full of texts and voicemails. I should probably be grateful I had people who cared about me, but all I wanted to do was flush the stupid thing down the dunny like the turd it was. It was then I realized Lilly hadn't called anyone at all. She'd sat in the ambulance and in the hospital and hadn't used her phone once. Did she have someone or was she alone?
Snorting, I knew that feeling and I didn't like it one bit. I wanted to see her again, but it wasn't any use. I was just pissing in the wind. Like a fool, I'd tried to find her online. Problem was, Lilly Hunter didn't exist…at least, not the one I’d saved in that alley.
Try working that one out.
I was standing out the front of the studio on the footpath, wondering if I should go inside and face the wrath of one Sasha Montgomery, my manager and Mick's other half. Instantly, I wondered if I could look at her and not picture her having sex with Mick. The thought made me wanna puke. I couldn’t really avoid her or the guys forever and I wasn't about to become a pansy ass pussy, so I sucked it up. 'It' being my pride.
Stepping through the front door, I saw Sasha standing just inside the hall off the reception. I knew a tongue-lashing was coming because it was her MO. She definitely knew how to keep us in line and that was no small feat. Seriously, I didn't give a fuck what she thought after the night I'd had. Didn't seem that important now.
"Rob," Sasha called out when her gaze hit mine. "What the fuck?"
"Lay it out, Montgomery," I drawled, stopping in front of her.
"Did you have to destroy a perfectly good snare? You know you dented a couple of cymbals too, right? Some temper tantrum."
"You do realize that they were talking about how they fuck you and Blair and Alexis…right?"
Her expression fell. "Dirty fucking…"
I shrugged and stepped around her.
"Rob, fucking wait. Where were you all night? Did you ever stop to think-"
"Leave it," I snapped. "I was at the hospital, alright? I stopped some crazy bloke from mugging some woman in the street and I couldn't leave her on her own. She was alone and scared and…." I waved her off. "What-fucking-ever."
Sasha was staring at me like I was some kind of hero and I didn't like it. Scowling, I stepped around her and went into the studio, nodding at the sound guy who was sitting with his feet kicked up, coffee in hand.
West was inside already, and when he saw me, his expression was drawn. I didn't need to hear his shit. "Rob-" He started but I shook my head.
"Don't, mate. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave off."
"If something's happening with you, you've gotta let us know," he argued.
Sasha appeared behind me and I rolled my eyes. Fuckin' women. "Did he tell you what he was doing all night while I was calling him every five seconds?"
"Fuckin' shut it, Montgomery." I turned to see that a new drum had appeared overnight to replace the once I'd busted.
"Saved some woman from being mugged."
"What the fuck?" West exclaimed.
"Dude," Mick said.
Glancing up, I gave them all the best death stare I could muster. While my back was turned everyone had appeared and were looking at me like I was the one who'd fallen off the tracks. Maybe I had, but fuck them.
"Fuck, mate, that's like hero shit," Joe said.
"I'm not a fuckin' hero," I hissed. "The fuck could've stabbed me. If anything, I'm an idiot."
Five seconds in the spotlight and suddenly I'm fuckin' visible again. It was like I'd finally done something worthwhile and that's the only reason they gave a stuff about me. I didn't know why I was so worked up about it.
Pulling on the set of headphones by my kit, I said, "If you assholes are ready, get the fuck out so I can record these fuckin' drum tracks."
As everyone filed out, I played some fills, getting my rhythm into gear. I could count on drumming to get my frustrations out. It was about the only bloody thing.
I sat in the same place as last night. In the alley off the side of the studio, the place where I'd heard her scream. The only noise now was traffic, car horns and the sounds of the city. I was perched in the shade, but the sun was creeping closer to the edge of my boot.
"Rob?"
I glanced up as Sasha leaned against the brick wall, looking down at me. Her hand was still in a cast from when she punched Mick in the face a few weeks ago. Smacked him so hard, she broke it in two places.
"They sent you, huh?" I asked, pushing my sunnies back up my nose.
"Something's going on with you, isn't there?"
"No shit."
"Rob, you know you can talk to me, right? It's not like I'm going to tell."
"You gunna whisper it in Mick's ear like the way he told everyone about-"
"I smacked him one for that," she interrupted.
"Good. He needs a lesson in manners."
She sat next to me on the step, placing her good hand on my knee. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it, Montgomery, or isn't my frosty attitude enough of a warning?"
She sighed and bumped my shoulder with hers. "You were a fucking idiot for manhandling a mugger with a knife," she said. "But it was brave too, you know."
I grunted.
"Was she okay? The woman?"
"Yeah. A couple of cuts. She was mostly frightened."
"And you stayed with her?"
I grunted again.
"Guys like you are few and far between."
Fuck, if only she knew. Guys like me only lived by the skin of their teeth. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't a fuckin' knight in shining armor. There was an inch between me and the void and having her know that…or anyone know it? Didn't need it. Didn't want it. Sure as fuck was never gunna tell.
And still, all I could think about was Lilly.
Lilly
When I was twenty-five, I was alone in a sea of people. The wrong kind of people. Thugs. Criminals. Mutton dressed up as lamb.
I was a thing, a possession, something to be owned and I'd started to forget what it was like to be wanted for me.
Guess it was one too many beatings that finally made me snap. There was a point of no return and I'd passed it the moment I walked out the door. One day, it would be one punch too many and I'd never wake up. There was only one thing I could do and that was run.
I flew to the other side of the country, dyed my hair an obnoxious shade of purple, got a big fucking tattoo down my arm and pierced my nose. Miles apart from the blonde-haired Stepford Wife I'd been forc
ed to be. Needless to say, Lilly Hunter wasn't my real name. Lilly Hunter was the person I'd always wanted to be. The person I was always denied.
When you're in the know, you can get forgeries of pretty much anything you need. Social Security, drivers license…a passport. It hadn't come to that, fleeing over international waters, but there was the option.
For now, it seemed fate brought me here.
I glanced up at the sign over the door. Village Studios. It was the only one near the place where I was attacked. It was this ugly red brick building that sat on a corner and stuck out like a sore thumb against the blue Californian sky. Clashed like the way pink and red didn't go together.
The door was this huge black thing and thankfully solid, so whoever was on the other side couldn't see me standing on the sidewalk like an idiot being all, should I go in, or should I keep walking.
One thing was certain…I wanted to see Rob again, no matter the consequence. It was the thing that had brought me all the way across town. Didn't matter that I worked down the street a ways, it was my day off and I didn't need to be anywhere near here.
Every night since the attack I'd tossed and turned in bed, jumping at shadows, spooned all night with a baseball bat and basically descended back into the life I'd risked everything to escape. I'd felt like running, just in case, but the moment I thought about the man who didn't let go of my hand it all went away.
Staring at the door, I scowled. After the crap I'd been through to get here, to LA, I couldn't walk through a fucking door? Deep down, I knew it was the thing the door represented that I was more afraid of. Attachment. Secrets. Lies. But I couldn't stay away. I'd fretted for days and the only time in my entire life I'd felt safe was when Rob was next to me. That's what brought me here and the thing that made me finally open that stupid fucking door.
The receptionist glanced up and smiled. She was dressed in a slouchy tank top, a tattoo across her chest and I wondered what it'd be like to work in a place like this. She looked happy and a part of me wished I was as carefree as her.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
With the fuck was I doing here? "Um…I'm looking for someone who's recording here."