Maddox must realize I’m distracted, “Sailor?” he says again.
“Maddox,” I say his name with a question in my voice.
“I love you,” Maddox says to me making me stop cold. “I’m in love with you,” he says again right before his lift goes up and he laughs happily leaving me staring after him in shock.
My breath comes out in a whoosh, my stomach flips, and I giggle. And then I laugh outright. I laugh because here I am, about to take the stage for my first concert. All of my wildest dreams have managed to come true, yet this man, he trumps them all. His declaration means more to me than any of this. Suddenly, I want up on the stage because I want to look into his eyes. I want him to see through mine, that I love him too.
When my lift moves, I quickly transition from complete darkness to bright light as the spotlight suddenly moves toward and then envelopes me as I sing my verse, and the crowd - well the crowd starts cheering for me. The sound is deafening, so I listen intently to the music in my ear through the well-placed microphone – thanking the crew silently - and thankfully start singing when it’s my cue. Initially I’m nervous, although thankfully it doesn’t show in my singing.
The light is so bright and my eyes have yet to adjust; I can barely make out anything or anyone, but Maddox suddenly appears in the light with me. He leaves his spot, changing the choreography up. And I know… I know that he’s here to offer support. And I find it. By looking in his eyes. Before me stands the man that originally made me crazy, but then vulnerably revealed his complete and true self. He has enabled me to do the same. Thank god, because he’s helping me become a better version of myself. I look in his eyes, and I find the support and reassurance needed. And then there is an almost indecipherable lilt in his expression and in that moment there is mutual acknowledgement and acceptance of shared love. My confidence soars. True bliss and joy engulf me. I look even more deeply into his eyes and our shared emotions culminate in a shine and glimmer that permeates from us into the audience. I smile, no beam, through the words, and my nervousness disappears as we sing with incredible accord as we continue to face each other. Our voices convey the emotions found in the lyrics and we entertain the crowd with our burning emotions.
The two-hour concert flies by. My outfit change happens without a hitch. At one point, as planned, I leave the stage and let the guys sing one of their hits without me. I feel like a rock star when I return to sing with them again and the crowd screams. In that moment, I feel accepted, validated, and it’s wonderful. All the while, I use every opportunity to communicate my full, appreciative and loving heart to Maddox through my expressions and eyes. If the smiles he gives me are any indication, he knows.
When we sing our last song, and have left the stage, I grab Maddox by his shirt. “Right before I was going on stage? Really?” He only smiles, and the edges of my mouth twitch, “Say it again without running away this time,” I demand.
He moves closer, maintaining eye contact, “I. Love. You.”
I watch his lips with each word then look into his eyes, “Maddox, I-”
“Do you guys hear that?” Nixon asks moving in between us.
“Hear what?” I ask at the same time Maddox says, “Seriously?”
“Listen,” Henley instructs walking up to us.
When we pay attention, we can hear the crowd chanting. “What are they saying?”
“They’re saying Graffiti, over and over again,” Jace says walking out of the wings. “You guys were great. Sailor, what a debut! You were fantastic.”
“He’s right, you were amazing,” Maddox says and my attention once again returns to him and I want more than anything to have some one on one time with him.
“How does it feel, Sailor?” Henley asks.
I reluctantly look away from Maddox to Henley, “It’s amazing, I feel amazing.”
“Great. Because you guys need to get out there for one more song.”
We all smile, then Nixon says, “Let’s go!” I look at Maddox one more time before we run onto the stage and sing our hearts out for one more tune. I realize it would be just fine if this night never ends.
Prior to exiting the stage for the last time, we move forward and take a bow. It is only then I realize we’re all sweaty messes. And as the adrenaline surge declines, exhaustion ensues. I would kill for a shower, some time with Maddox, and a bed that offers deep sleep. Well, and maybe other things as well, I think imagining telling Maddox how I feel while we’re naked. The possibilities make me tingle.
Before we can do anything, Jace is there, “You guys have a half hour to get cleaned up and then we’ll be doing the fan meet and greet.”
“I know we discussed it before, but can you remind me again what is expected?” I ask.
“Of course,” Jace nods. “After each concert, we meet any concert goers that have backstage passes or won a radio contest. You’ll have pics taken and sign autographs. And say thank you a lot as they congratulate your awesome performance.”
“Yes, that’s right. Sounds good,” I tell him making a beeline for my dressing room and shower having lost sight of Maddox in the crowd. The crew is already starting to take down all the equipment and I recollect hearing someone ask for his input on something.
I’m out of the shower, clean and dressed in record time. Wandering down the hallway I look for Maddox, one of the guys or an indication of the room that I’m supposed to be in for the fan meet and greet. Suddenly, I’m grabbed at the shoulder and waist then lifted up. Startled I flail until Maddox says, “Shh,” in my ear. He takes us into a closet and closes the door.
“I’m experiencing déjà vu,” I tell him with a laugh.
“What can I say? I have a fondness for closets.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do say,” he says moving toward me. Suddenly I’m grateful for the red dress I’m wearing as his hand starts trailing up my thigh.
“Don’t we have fans to meet and greet?”
“I thought we could take five minutes for ourselves really quick.”
“Wow. I only get five minutes? Aren’t you generous.”
“Baby,” he says cooing to me and I find I like it. “It’ll be the best five minutes of your life.”
I laugh at his arrogance but it falls away quickly. I quickly find the blackness and tight confines of the space appealing. The heat of his skin so close to mine becomes my only guide. I reach out and touch his chest, and then find his mouth with mine. He opens and I take charge, stroking inside of his mouth, moving quickly over him, clutching his shoulders. Pulling away, I gasp, “I love you too,” I kiss him again quickly. “I love you too, Maddox.”
He doesn’t say a word. I hear his pants and zipper as he releases himself and then he picks me up, pressing my back against the wall. He moves my dress up and over my hips as my legs wrap around his waist. His mouth is on my neck, and after he pulls away, he yanks my underwear to the side and I feel seams rip. He wastes no time entering me and I throw my head back against the wall. “Oh my god,” I say.
His hand finds it’s way down between my legs as he continues to move in and out. “So good,” I murmur at the same time he says my name.
“I love you, Sailor,” he says and the words alone throw me off the edge like a fucking freight train. I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but it disappears when Maddox puts his mouth on mine and moans his orgasm into my mouth.
Once we catch our breaths, he pulls away from me, and we straighten our clothing. Then he takes me in his arms and kisses me again. “I told you. Best five minutes ever,” he teases and I laugh again. He kisses me once more and I say, “I love you.” I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying the words. “I have so much I want to say, but we have to get to the meet and greet,” I tell him.
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk afterward,” he says as he pushes my hair off my right shoulder then kisses it. God, I love it when he does that.
He opens the door, looks around, then pulls me out and quickly closes the door behind u
s. We act like giddy adolescents as we walk only a couple doors down the hallway and enter the room. “Seriously?” I whisper. “We were that close?”
“The potential of getting caught is half the fun,” he winks at me before walking into the room.
Laughing, I look around for the other guys and find them. They’re spread out in various spots all over the room. My guess is they are going to want us to mingle. There’s a large table with various food and drinks spread out, and another with various CDs, posters and the like they can purchase and bring us to sign. Jace hands me a black sharpie. “So get ready. People will be accosting you, and will want an autograph; many will take selfies, some will want to take photographs. Each of you have a member of the crew who will assist as needed. We usually stay and chat with everyone for an hour or so. Then, it’s back on the bus where we’ll spend a short time discussing our performance while it’s still fresh in our minds, determining what, if anything, we need to do differently at the next.”
“Okay, sounds easy enough,” I tell him with a smile.
It isn’t long until fans bombard the room. What felt like a generous area now seems filled to capacity. There are a lot of smiling faces, some shy, some brazen. I’m involved in a lot of photos and sign my name on posters, t-shirts and other items most of which contain copies of our album cover. It feels really weird. Fans ask me all kinds of questions and even ask me about the guys – what they’re like, how I enjoy singing with them, etc. It’s all fun and surreal.
I’m at the beverage table grabbing something to drink when a voice stops me cold. “Sailor.”
It’s funny really. All he says is my name. A word I’ve heard thousands of times in my life, from various people, but this one…this one makes chills run up my spine and vomit threaten to rush up my throat. Just a simple word from a certain voice and it brings back horrible memories in a flood of negative emotions. I hesitate, and my thoughts of screaming, walking then running away play out like a quick movie in my mind. I find myself turning slowly around anyway and I know that later I’ll ask myself why I chose to do so.
He looks the same, yet different. His adolescent features have morphed into the man he’s become, but they are all too similar. His eyes though, the piercing and haunting wild blue eyes contain more evil than I’ve ever seen – more now than before.
I open my mouth, not sure if I’m going to speak to him, or scream. He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he says gruffly. “Not unless you want everyone in this room to know your dirty little secrets.”
“What do you want?” I manage to spit out.
“Imagine my surprise when I started seeing your face splashed all over the news and in every gossip magazine. Little, Sailor Blue Clark,” he says using the last name I dropped when I moved away. “A dirty whore turned celebrity.”
“What do you want?” I repeat refusing to flinch or show reaction at his words knowing it would only bring him satisfaction.
“I want to talk. I know where your dressing room is. Be there in five minutes or I will not only talk to anyone here that will listen, but I’ll also pick up the phone and call the press right the fuck now.”
I nod, feeling like I have no choice. I’ll do anything to protect my secret. I cannot allow this to escape; it would only hurt the guys. And Jace. And Rick. I can’t do that to them. As he walks away, I look around the room; I give long looks to Henley, Rocco, Nixon and then Maddox. I think briefly about asking them for help, but I don’t. Because doing that would expose my secret and it could ruin them. Rick’s words run through my mind again from a day that seems so long ago now, “So, please, tell me now if you’ve ever murdered someone or have some horrible skeleton in your closet that could be exposed, because god knows, that’s the last thing we need after everything else.” I thought this had been buried and left behind. That it could never get out, never be revealed. If that were to occur, it would ruin everything they’ve worked for. Ruin their enormous amount of hard work and struggle to get back on top. I refuse to be the source of any pain or disappointment. They hired me on faith for this gig and I lied – I told Rick that I had nothing to hide because never would I have imagined he would come after me. For the first time I regret accepting and taking this risk. I should have known better. Girls like me, they don’t get to have fulfillment of dreams.
I push back the tears that threaten to clog my throat and run down my face. Moving to the door, Maddox catches my eye and smiles; I force myself to return it. I point and mouth the word, “Bathroom.” He nods and I walk out of the room.
The closer I get to my dressing room my hands begin to shake, as do my legs. As soon as I turn the doorknob, the door swings open. He’s there looking at me, and it makes me shudder with revulsion. He looks behind me, then pulls me into the room quickly and closes the door quietly so it doesn’t draw attention.
“Adam. I’m going to ask you again. What do you want?”
“You mean besides the opportunity of seeing you again and witnessing your rise to fame and celebrity?” He moves to me and stands so close it takes every molecule in my body to remain where I am. I cannot back down even though the girl I used to be is inside screaming at me to leave. He takes a finger and runs it along my cheek, “You’ve always been beautiful.”
I can’t help myself, I spit on him. It feels rebellious for a minute, but I pay for it. I pay for it hard with a backhand to my face. My eyes water immediately.
“You bitch,” he spits. “You’ve always thought you were better than me. I see that hasn’t changed. Not one bit.”
I’ve heard all of this before. He used to tell me over and over again as he’d rape me. It went on for one year. One long year. Until I realized no one was going to help me, and I found the strength within for my son, the son that this vile man put inside of me, to finally leave.
“I want money,” he sneers, the reason for him being here finally revealed. “You will give me fifty thousand dollars now to keep my mouth shut and then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.”
I hesitate because I know he’s lying. Once I give in and pay him off, this is never going to end; he’ll keep coming back for more again and again. He’ll continue to hold me hostage for something that I never asked for. I don’t know what to do. But, before I can decide, he makes me lose all sense of reason.
He grabs hold of my neck, backs me into the door, hits me again, and again. “Fine. I’ll just beat some sense into you then. Seems you need it,” he says and takes my dress in his hands and rips it down the front. I feel the seams at the v in my dress tear. He yanks my bra down, turns and throws me to the floor. I hit hard, my head hitting something as I go down and I feel wetness at the side of my head. The world tilts on its axis, but I do my best to fight against him. Even when I feel my dress rip further, even when I feel his hands on my body, even when I start to mix up images from the past with what’s happening now. He starts to hit me again and he calls me names, and I know on some level that I’m fighting back, as much as I can, but I’m weak and limited in comparison. I try to scream, but there’s blood in my mouth and I choke on it.
There’s pain, but with the pain also comes numbness. I see the faces of my parents, I see them smiling at me, telling me they love me. I see the face of my son. He’s so tiny and he’s screaming in my arms after just leaving my body. I remember stroking his face, whispering in his ear that I love him, and begging him to remember me even when I know it’s impossible.
I think of Britt. How she makes me laugh, how she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I thank the stars she walked into the bar that day crying over some guy. I’m lucky to have her. I think of Dusty, the bar, singing on that stage.
And then I think of the first time I met Maddox. How he had such resentment and pain in his eyes, and that over time it turned into intrigue with me, compassion and eventually love. The best and truest love I’ve ever known.
My vision starts to blacken at the edges; I close my mind and beg for
unconsciousness to take me. I hear banging and I think it’s his fist against my flesh. I hear my name being screamed as he curses it. I hear a crash, a slam, and Adam’s weight finally disappears from my body. Maybe I’m dreaming, but I swear I open my eyes and see the beautiful faces of Maddox, Henley, Rocco and Nixon. I see Maddox mouthing, no screaming for an ambulance and begging me to hold on for him. I try to smile at him, but my face feels strange and I’m not sure I accomplish it. “Don’t cry. I love you,” I think I tell him, before I feel nothing at all.
“Not again,” I chant as I hold her. As she lies broken and beaten in my arms, I feel impotent, worthless. I wasn’t there when Miranda was hurt, and that was…awful…but this…this is… I choke on the fear. “Not again,” I say as I wait for the ambulance to arrive holding her broken unconscious body in my arms. “No, please no,” I plead as I feel the hands of my brothers’ against my back in silent support. “Please don’t take her,” I whisper over and over on the ride to the hospital refusing to let go of her hand. “Please come back to me,” I beg as they wheel her away and I have no choice but to sit defeated in the waiting room as we keep an eye for a doctor to come in bearing news.
“Who the hell was that guy?” Henley asks no one in particular, just voicing his question out loud.
“How did he get in there with her?” Rocco wonders.
“She looked bad. It was bad. Is she going to be okay?” Nixon asks while Jace is on the phone demanding, “I want to know how he got into her dressing room and I want to fucking know right now.”
They are all questions the guys ask over and over in different ways until I can’t take it anymore, “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up! We should be praying, not asking questions. Did you see her?” I look at them, my eyes falling on each one. “Did you see the bruises from where he-?”
I cry. I rise to stand, but immediately turn and fall to my knees and begin to pray. I don’t know when the last time is that I’ve had a conversation with God, but I beg Him to listen to me now. I ask Him to be with her, to ease her pain where he can, and I plead even though I know I shouldn’t – I plead with Him to not take her from me too. I hate myself for not being there. I beg God to allow me to trade places with her. When I’m finished, I turn and sit once more, wiping my face with my hands.
Broken Melody (Graffiti On Tour Series) Page 24