Ripping Pages

by Rae, Rachel

  Tatum laughed the whole way about how drunk I was, but in my current state of intoxication, all I could do was hold on to James as he carried me, and the smell of the cologne he always wore engulfed all my senses.

  We made it to my room, with the double vision of James laying me down on the bed as he kissed my forehead before saying goodnight and walking out the door.

  “James, wait.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop them. The two sets of James turned at the door and looked at me questioningly.

  “Stay with me,” I drunkenly pleaded as I wantonly writhed on the bed. I was seriously becoming someone I didn’t know.

  His face looked unsure. He probably should have heeded his own warning. But instead, the look in his eyes started blazing with lust and need as I bit my lip, and I motioned for him to come lie down next to me. He walked slowly to the bed where I lay in my tipsy state. I smiled a smug smile as he climbed in next to me.

  I turned into his arms and flung my leg over his as I kissed his neck and made my way down to his collar. He moaned and then grabbed my hair roughly so I would lift my lips to his. He kissed me in a way that he never had before. Like he was desperate for me. Like he was afraid that if he didn’t have me at that exact moment, this might all fade away. He hoisted me up on top of him, which was something we rarely did when we were together. My mouth crashed down on his and we kissed feverishly. Rolling me onto my back, he started to kiss his way down my body paying extra attention to my breasts. He nibbled and bit my nipples making me scream out. I thrashed beneath him wanting more of whatever this was. I had never really lusted after James. I was of course attracted to him, but I never knew that anything was wrong until Van came along.

  With Van, all I did was lust after him and want him. James’ and my relationship had blossomed from a friendship, so there had always been an intimacy that can only be found when you’ve been with someone for a long time. You know everything about them. Every imperfection. What makes them tick, what hurts them, what makes them smile. Our sex was always great, but nothing monumental.

  But in this instance, I couldn’t get enough of James. I wanted his mouth everywhere. I wanted his impressive length inside me. I wanted him to consume me. He kissed my inner thighs and made his way to my center. Licking and sucking. I liked that he still remembered what I liked, and the way I liked it. He made me come again and again before he stopped and smiled up at me as he crawled up my body and settled himself between my legs.

  “You like that, baby? I missed you so much. God the way you taste, I always thought about seeing you again, and tasting that again. Mmm, so sweet.”

  I moaned, “Fuck, James, I missed you, too, baby. Please, fuck me. Please.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he chuckled as he thrust himself hard into me. We both groaned together. He felt so good. So right. I missed him so much, and in my drunken stupor, I felt the tears begin to overtake me. He looked up as I sniffled, and he instantly stilled his movements inside me.

  “Baby? What’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” He wiped my hair back away from my face as he caressed my cheek.

  I shook my head obstinately and pulled his lips to mine. “No, baby. I just missed you… Us.”

  He kissed me hard and then leaned back a little to look me in the eyes, “I missed you, too, Tin. You have no idea how much. I love you, baby.” He started pumping into me again harder and faster this time, like he was trying to make us whole again. “Oh, fuck, baby. See? We fit so perfectly together. It’s me and you always, baby.”

  “Yeah, always, baby.” I cried out as I came and he came right after me. We lay there, him on top of me kissing every inch of flesh he could reach. Cherishing me.

  After a few minutes, he rolled off me and covered us up with my blanket as I lay my head against his chest. He kissed my forehead reverently. “How is it possible that you grew even more beautiful over time? Do you know how much I dreamed of you, of your sexy body, while I was away? Do you know how much I’ve dreamed of you since I found you again?”

  I blushed and shook my head coyly, “No.”

  “Every minute of every day. When I saw you that night at the theater, you don’t know how bad I wanted to take you there and show you that you were still mine. My Tinley. You have always been my everything. I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. I will never leave you again. I know you’ve had a lot to deal with over the past month, and if you’re not ready for this, for us, then tell me. I’ll wait as long as it takes. You and I are forever.”

  I leaned up to kiss him.

  “I love you, baby. I don’t need to wait. I want you now. I need you again. You don’t know how broken I was when you left me. How much I wanted for you to come back and love me again. I want this. I want us.”

  I snuggled up closer as he wrapped his muscular arm around me. “Good,” he whispered, as I fell asleep content in his arms.

  The days went on and James and my relationship grew stronger. Soon, it became as it always had been. We fought the same as we always had about stupid insignificant things, and then we made up soon after. It was as if our relationship had never ended. We just seemed to pick up where we left off. The sex was good but not like that first night when we got back together. We soon developed into old habits.

  The play was ending after a 3 week run, and I had seen so much of James and I hadn’t thought much about Van. Sure, I had my moments when I wondered how he was and who he was with, but I had James back and I was happy.

  Right? So why was I still giving a shit about Van?

  He hadn’t even tried to get a hold of me and now they were overseas for the European part of the tour. I had seen Sloan for a girl’s night with Tatum that week. We got to talking about nothing in particular while the other girls were on the dance floor, but then suddenly the conversation turned odd. Sloan in her Vodka soaked rant said something that confused me and intrigued me. “I’m so sorry about my brother. I want you to know that he’s not such an asshole. He has a lot of issues that stem from his ex-girlfriend. She really messed with his head, and he’s never been the same since. It wasn’t regular relationship cheating stuff, but it was major shit. He never got over it.”

  Before I could get her to elaborate, Macklemore’s Thrift Shop came on and she squealed and ran to the dance floor. I sat there stunned and wondering what the hell she was talking about.

  We came home to the apartment that night, and I found James in my bed snoring and lying across the middle of it. I nudged him a bit so he would move, but the huge wall that was James didn’t budge. I pinched him playfully. I threw a pillow at his head, but nothing. He was out cold. He’d been extremely busy working on a huge new project for a client, and I knew he needed his sleep.

  I decided to take my laptop into the living room and play around on it before I went to bed. It was already almost three in the morning, but I was nowhere near tired. I opened my internet browser to my home page, and immediately, all the blood drained from my face. My heart stopped. There was a breaking news alert, and Van’s face splashed across the screen with the words, “Rock Star shot. Critical Condition.” I sat there shaking and staring at my computer screen. Van? Shot? Critical?

  My phone immediately started ringing, and Sloan’s name appeared across my screen. I picked it up and as soon as I heard her crying voice, the reality of the situation hit me. She told me that Van was in London with the band, and all she knew was that he was still alive, but it wasn’t looking good. She told me her father was taking a private plane within the hour to London, and she wanted me to come with her. We had become close over the past few weeks talking regularly on the phone, and I wanted to be there for her, but if I were being honest, I needed to see Van. I needed to be there and make sure he didn’t die before I could tell him I didn’t mean what I’d said the last time I saw him. I didn’t hate him, in fact, I couldn’t lie to myself—I still loved him. He had to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I told her that I would meet her at the airport. I ran to Tatum�
�s room where she was passed out. I shook her once and she woke up. Seeing the tears streaming down my face she immediately sobered up. “What’s wrong, Tin?”

  “Van’s been shot. I—I don’t know how bad it is but I have to go to him.”

  Her face went pale. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. Yes, go to him. Fuck, I need to call Sloan.”

  I told her that I would call her once we got to London and once I heard anything. I ran into my room and shoved some clothes and necessities into my bag. I shook James hard a few times and yelled his name to wake him up, but he just snored and rolled over. I left him a note and left for the airport, my stomach in knots and the tears wouldn’t stop. How could I have said those awful things to him? I knew he didn’t care about me anymore, he had made that clear by not trying to contact me at all, but I still had to tell him I didn’t mean what I’d said. I would never forgive myself if he didn’t make it and my last words to him had been, “Fuck you. I hate you.”

  I made it to the airport and into the private plane to see a solemn Sloan, Sam, and an older, but no less beautiful version of Sloan. Van’s mother was simply gorgeous. She had a fancy handkerchief in her left hand, and in the other, was a very large glass of amber liquid on the rocks. She was crying and leaning on Van’s father who just stared straight ahead. His eyes were cold and distant. I felt like I was intruding until Sloan grabbed my hand and had me sit next to her. “I’m so, so glad you’re here.” She smiled through her sobs.

  I held her hand the entire flight. We made it to London in about seven hours. It was around noon, New York Time, which meant it was about dinnertime when we arrived at the hospital. We hadn’t heard much on his condition during the flight. Just that he was still unconscious, and he had a gunshot wound to the chest. We pulled up to the hospital where millions of fans were screaming and crying and were trying to be subdued by police, as paparazzi went crazy snapping pictures of us as we walked in.

  We walked gravely toward the ICU waiting room, which was blocked off by several huge security guards. They stepped aside as they recognized us, and we joined the awaiting band members and crew in the waiting area. Jensen walked over to us his Mohawk down and tied back in a ponytail, his face red from crying. Chase and Beckett joined him and said their hellos, and their faces were just as sad and blotchy as the rest of us. Van was like a brother to all of them. They hugged Sloan and me, and Van’s mother, whose name I learned was Vivian, and nodded hellos to Van’s father. The doctor came out after a few moments and explained Van’s condition to us. He told us that Van was still in surgery but that it was going well. He said that Van had been shot in the chest by a crazed fan and that the bullet penetrated him in the chest, but there was no exit wound. The bullet had hit the very outer wall of the abdominal aorta, which caused extreme blood loss, and now the bullet was lodged in the abdominal cavity. My heart restricted when he said that.

  This was all too surreal. I felt like I was in a dream. He said that Van would probably have to have about six blood transfusions in all. He informed us that they would be finishing surgery and that Van would have a long recovery, but it seemed that everything was going well, and he would come back and let us know how it all went.

  We all sat in silence in the waiting room. James had texted and called me a few times, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone, at the moment. I sent him a text and let him know what was happening. I wasn’t sure he would understand about me going to see Van. Yeah, it was a terrible tragedy, but Van had broken my heart and James was my boyfriend now, and I was afraid he would be angry, but at that moment, in that sterile, cold hospital with Van unconscious in surgery not far from me, I didn’t care. I just felt better knowing I was close to him. Like my presence would heal him or something. I felt like me being so close, my prayers would be answered faster if I were closer to the one in need of them.

  I texted my mother back after her trying to get a hold of me to let me know about Van. I told her that when I was ready to leave the hospital, I would call her and head over there. Only, I didn’t plan to leave until Van could leave.

  The surgeon came out in his scrubs, and we all gathered around as he told us about Van’s condition. “We couldn’t remove the bullet from Mr. Whitaker’s chest, but we did repair the artery and stop the bleeding. He had to have four blood transfusions, and he will probably have to have a few more before all is said and done, but I expect him to make a full recovery.” He smiled as we all burst into tears. Tears of relief. Van was going to be all right. I was going to be able to make amends with him. I shivered at the thought of the crazed fan. The news on the screens all around us were talking about Van’s shooter, a girl not more than seventeen, who was obsessed with Ripping Pages, so much so that she would actually try to kill her beloved lead singer. I got chills when they showed her face. She looked very scary. Then the news reported that she had killed herself soon after shooting Van.

  I looked around, and I realized that Jade was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell was she? Wasn’t she Van’s girlfriend? They wheeled Van into a private room in the ICU and told us that we couldn’t see him until he woke up, which would take a few hours or more. We all took turns going down to the cafeteria, and somehow, I ended up with Jensen. He breathed a sigh of relief as we exited the floor to the ICU. “Oh God. You have no idea how fucking terrifying that was.”

  “I can’t imagine.” I shuddered.

  “She just fucking came out of nowhere and just shot my brother like it was nothin’.” He broke into sobs, and I wrapped my arms around him crying my own tears. I couldn’t imagine how scary that would be. Not to mention that Van almost died. He still could. The tears came pouring harder.

  Van. My Van. My sweet man who meant everything to me. God, I missed him. I wanted him to know that I would always love him. I could never hate him. He was my everything.

  What was I saying? I loved James. I forgave Van and I loved him, but I also loved James, and I couldn’t forget the things Van had accused me of—the shame and guilt he made me feel for no reason. I was all mixed up.

  We walked back to the waiting room, and there, standing next to Mr. Whitaker, was Jade. Looking every bit the actress, she stood there breaking down in theatrical sobs while holding onto Beckett. I mean, I know she was just as upset as we all were, maybe more considering their relationship, but just the way she was acting was seriously rubbing me the wrong way.

  She heard Sloan say something to the effect of Jensen and I walking back, and she turned her visine-teared eyes toward us. Seeing me, her face contorted to one of anger. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  Sloan turned to her as she gave me a hug and her voice was hateful, which was very unlike the sweet Sloan I had become great friends with. “She is here, because I asked her to be. And because my stubborn ass brother loves her. Only her,” she sneered defiantly at Jade. Who, in turn, ignored her and kept up her crying scene. Soon, the doctor came out, and we waited for what seemed like hours only it was just seconds as the man stopped in front of Van’s father. “Mr. Whitaker, it appears that your son is in a coma. He should have been awake by now, but he hasn’t responded to any of our tests. We have run an MRI, but there appears to be no bleeding in the brain, which is good news.”

  Stunned, Mr. Whitaker asked, “So what happens now?”

  “Now, sir, we just have to wait and hope that your son wakes up soon. I’m so sorry.” And with that, the doctor excused himself, as we all just stood there shell-shocked. Here we were not two hours ago thinking that this was all going to be over quickly, and Van would be up and talking. But now, he slept, and he didn’t respond to tests. My Van was comatose, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Would he wake up in a few hours? A few days? Months? Years? Oh God. What the hell was happening? My world felt like it was crumbling all around me as I struggled to breathe, and all the walls collapsed around me.

  They let the family go into see him one by one. Sloan urged her parents and the band to go to the hotel across the street, and get
some rest. The boys really needed some rest. They hadn’t moved from the hospital since Van was rushed to the emergency room 24 hours ago. Reluctantly, they all left. Jade stayed behind. Sloan smiled at me and told me that she’d be right back.

  I saw her walk away from me and toward Jade, but she kept her voice down, and I couldn’t hear anything she said to her. What I did see was Jade’s violet eyes meet mine, and then she gave me the most hateful look. Real tears this time, welled up in those purple gazers, and for a minute, I actually felt sorry for her as she stormed out the doors to the exit.

  Sloan came back over to me and gave me a hug. She held onto my shoulders as she pulled away. “Tin, go spend some time with my brother. I believe he can hear everything you say, and I know he’ll be waking up soon. I feel it. I’ll be at the hotel. Here’s the key to your suite. See you later. Let me know if you need me.”

  I thanked her and slowly I walked toward Van’s room.

  Everything seemed to be magnified. The signs on the wall. The lights flickering in the dim hallway. The happy calendar marked with all the fun events coming up. Nothing seemed real.

  How would the world keep going if Van didn’t wake up? How would any of us keep going?

  I pushed the steel door handle and the door opened. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that.

  My strong, sexy, protector. My healthy, solid hunk of sexy rock star that stole my girly heart and made me feel like a princess wasn’t there. He looked like a small, vulnerable boy lying there. He had IVs pricked into his veins on both arms and a breathing tube coming out of his nostrils. My sweet Van.

  I sat in the chair closest to the bed and timidly, I placed my hand over his, rubbing it back and forth the way he had done to me. I instantly felt the love and my need for him. It really was unlike anything I had ever experienced with anyone. Van and I were different from anything else. I stood up to kiss him on his nose and then his forehead. With tears pouring from my eyes, I whispered in his ear, “Baby, I’m-I-I’m so sorry. Van, please, hear me. I. Love. You. More than anything, baby. Please wake up. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I don’t hate you. I never could. I tried, and I lied to myself to make me think it, but I don’t. I love you. And you are my everything. Even if I’m not yours, you’re still mine. I love you. I’m sorry. I was just so mad at you. Please… please, wake up for me.”