A Blue Tale

by Sarah Dosher

My lips slowed and my grip on his hair loosened. He pushed his mouth harder against mine, trying to deepen the kiss again, but my lips had already stopped moving. I tried to pull away, but he continued to press deeper, his kiss became wild and desperate. I put my hands on his chest and lightly pushed him away. His tongue disappeared then his lips, and he pulled back with one last sharp nip to my bottom lip then ran his thumb over the spot his teeth had just left.

  “Shaw, I ca-“

  “I know, baby. We just need to slow down, that was too fast.”

  I nodded and he pulled me into a deep hug that felt like a desperate act of the heart.

  “Don’t leave me,” he whispered into my hair. “Let’s just go to the beach. Okay? Just give me today.”

  I nodded again, and he led the way from the house down the long walkway to the white sand.

  ***

  Deacon

  I’d been locked up in my apartment with Angela for days trying to get her straightened out, but it felt like years since I’d snuck out of Eli’s house while she slept on the couch; forever since I’d seen her. After I got Angela here that afternoon, I tried to take her to the hospital to have her eye looked at but she swore it was fine, even though it was swollen shut and covered with crusted blood, I didn’t argue. I just cleaned it up and forced her to eat something before locking her in my bedroom to sleep. Of course, she still hadn’t offered any information about what caused her face to look like she’d just lost her first MMA fight. I didn’t bother to push her for details either; not yet anyway, not until she was clean. The marks on her arm were enough for me to know drugs were involved, so I’d already called every drug rehab center I could find asking for an open spot, but the damn things were booked—fucking druggies and their relapses.

  The days had been rough, but the nights were worse. We’d been through this before, Angela and I, but that still hadn’t prepared me for round two of the cold sweats, shakes, vomiting, and the overwhelming bitchy attitude. If anyone ever questioned my love or loyalty for my friend, I’d be sure and tell him about cleaning up her piss for the third time in one day. It was the worst few days of my life, but I knew it was worse for Angela. I had no doubts about the Hell she was currently living in. Which made my neediness to see Eli seem a lot less important, but no less real for me.

  My eyelids felt like they were coated with sand and refused to stay open much longer, I’d spent so much time taking care of Angela I hadn’t eaten or slept. Since she was finally passed the worst, I knew I had to sleep. I closed the blinds on the windows in my living room, trying to block some of the annoyingly bright sunshine that was filtering into the room. I landed face first on a couch cushion that smelled like ass and stale beer – not a good combination. I’d always loved that couch, I bought it with some of the first money I earned doing studio work – it symbolized how far I’d come from the lowlife I used to be. But now I longed for a fancy leather couch that smelled like someone had soaked it in berries. I wanted to curl up next to a dark-haired beauty with soulful green eyes and bury every ounce of frustration I had deep inside her. But that wasn’t going to happen—sleep, I needed sleep.

  I woke what felt like minutes later, but I knew it had probably been hours, with a soft warm body pressed against the front of mine. I pressed my hips further into it and felt a nice round ass wrapped around my dick.

  “Deacon, you know I love you, but if you don’t get your boner outta my ass, I will Lorena Bobbitt you.”

  The mere mention of the words Lorena or Bobbitt would send any dick back to half-mast in the blink of an eye, and Annie was no different. I opened my eyes and was immediately consumed with wild, curly hair I had to push away from my mouth to speak.

  “I love your sexy-ass hair Ang, but I don’t want the shit in my mouth!”

  She laughed and rolled over so she was facing me. She wrapped her arm around my side and pushed her head into my chest. It wasn’t a sexual hug; it was a show of love. I smoothed her unruly hair and lightly kissed the top of her head.

  “You must feel better, first time you’ve been outta my room since we got here.”

  “I do, I think the worst is over.”

  “Good, I’m glad. But it’s not over yet, not by a long shot.” I warned.

  “I love you D. You’re the only one that ever cares.” She whispered into my chest.

  “I love you, too, Ang, I always have, and I always will, no matter what happens.” I paused to let my words sink in before I shattered them. “But you gotta stop fucking up left and right. Get your shit together, hear me?”

  “I know; I was trying. I wanted to get away; they didn’t want me to.”

  “How many speedballs total?” I asked harshly and felt her body tense.

  She shook her head lightly, “None, I swear. I stayed away from it, I knew it’d kill me this time.”

  I felt her words crawl into my heart, and I prayed they weren’t false. “What has it been then?”

  “Just coke. I swear, Deacon.”

  “Swear to me, Ang, swear right now: no more.” I demanded, leery of her reply.

  “No more, Deac, I swear.”

  The room was dark except for a small amount of light filtering from the bathroom, so I couldn’t see her face to gauge her honesty. Angela could never tell a lie without biting her lip or twirling her hair—everyone has a “tell” once you get to know them well enough—and I always watched for it.

  “I gotta tell Tony.” I said softly, fucking dreading that conversation.

  “I know.” Was all she said.

  “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

  “No, I’ll go. I need to tell him.”

  “I don’t know, that won’t go over well coming from you.”

  “It’s my fuck up, so I will deal with it, Deac.” She snapped, a little too harshly.

  She had no fucking clue what she would be walking in to, but I’d let her mend her own fences if that’s the road she wanted to take.

  Tony was how I knew Angela; he was her older brother, my best friend. We met close to fifteen years ago when I ran away from my last foster home. It was so cold that night I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes, which I took as a sign the Gods were cursing me even further. I’d lived on the west coast all my life, and had never seen it as cold as the night I finally decided to run away after suffering through the last beating I’d ever allow. At first, my warm breath came in large puffs blocking my sight as I cautiously walked down the dark, deserted street. After a while, when every inch of my outsides were frozen, my breath barely made a hazy cloud beneath my nose. I thought I was tough; I’d spent years going toe to toe with some of the toughest assholes I’d ever met. But I didn’t have a fucking clue what cruelty awaited me on the hard streets of Los Angeles.

  I was lucky a hard-ass know-it-all like Tony saved my ass from the gang whose territory I’d encroached on. I don’t know what he saw in me, but he took me in and protected me. A smart-ass boy never would have stood a chance without someone tough like Tony. He showed me the ropes of LA, the legal and illegal side of life, and I learned that shit well. His protection of me was the only reason I’d be the one visiting him at a state penitentiary this weekend to tell him the little sister he got hooked on drugs started using again, instead of him visiting me in the local cemetery.

  “Your phone has been vibrating nonstop for the past hour.” Angela said, snapping me back.

  She sat up, handing me the phone. My mind filtered through the possibilities of who it might be as Eli popped into my mind. I looked at my missed calls and felt my stomach drop with disappointment, it was just Duke. Of course I never actually gave Eli my number—she didn’t ask for it and I didn’t offer—but I freaking should have, I should have demanded it.

  I punched in Duke’s number and he answered before the first ring ended.

  “Where the fuck have you been, man?” He shouted over music in the background.

  Duke and I had been friends since the first day I straightened myself out and decided
to pursue music seriously. We were both at an open mic night and decided our talents suited each other well. We could both play the guitar and sing, but he enjoyed the attention of singing, while I’d rather be hidden in the background with my guitar. So we started playing together that day years ago, and hadn’t stopped yet, even through countless fights that almost ended with one of us murdering the other every time.

  “I had to take care of something,” I paused. “It’s a long story.” The details of which I had no intentions of discussing with him right this minute.

  “Are you coming to practice at Eli’s? The girls are at it now.”

  “Didn’t know anything about it.”

  I heard him groan, even over the shit in the background. The music slowly faded as he walked away and no longer needed to scream. “If you’d check your fucking messages, you’d know. Now you better get your sorry, piece of shit ass over here! Do you hear me? You will NOT fuck this up for us, or it will be the last damn thing you ever do!” He was breathing heavily when he finished screaming at me.

  “I can’t.” I said through gritted teeth.

  “You will!” He growled. “Or I will find a new guitar player, I’m so fucking over your shit problems, Deac, either grow the fuck up and deal, or find someone else’s life to ruin.”

  “You better watch yourself, Duke, and who you threaten…” I let my sentence trail off because I didn’t make threats I wasn’t willing to follow through on and my issues weren’t with Duke – unless he made them be.

  “No man, fuck you! Either get your ass over here within the hour, or you’re out.” He paused and drew in a thick, heavy breath. “If you can’t deal with this shit around Eli, then you shouldn’t have fucking started something…I knew you’d pull this motherfucking, goddamn, shit.” The last part he mumbled more to himself than at me.

  “Dude, I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

  “You never can, asswipe, so I don’t know why you even bother.”

  The line went dead, he had me by the balls, and we both knew it. The pressure in my chest grew until I could feel it strangling the life out of me. I had to go face her, I didn’t even know if I was worthy of being at her house, much less in her presence, but I had to grow a pair and deal with it. Every fiber of my being was pulling me back there, but my sorry ass didn’t deserve any sweetness she was willing to offer me—not a damn bit of it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deacon

  My ass was planted firmly on the couch with Angela lounging between my legs when the sight of Eli entering the music studio arm-in-fucking-arm with Shaw Sutton ceased my beating heart. My body jolted off the back of the couch, and a numb tingle spread rapidly from the center of my chest to the top of my head, then back to the tips of my toes. She was pressed firmly against his side, his arm slung around her body with his hand cupping her ass. She was staggering drunk, and would have fallen face first onto the floor if he wasn’t carrying her entire weight.

  Was this normal? Did she do this all the time? Even though I wasn’t sure, I highly doubted she did, which meant something was bothering her enough to cause this; maybe me. Her glazed eyes moved around the room, skimming right over me, and landing on Willow. Eli’s entire being brightened and she pushed away from Shaw. I saw the broken look on his face and, unfortunately, felt a certain level of kinship with his current emotions.

  “Willow, O-M-G! I missed you.” Eli slurred, wrapping her arms around Willow’s middle. “I fluncking lobe ou oh uch.” She said, making absolutely no sense as tears streamed down her face.

  Damn, what was that about? She was a fucking mess in the middle of a room full of musicians she worked with. Willow pushed Eli’s head into her chest shielding her face and whispering in her ear – which is exactly when our eyes met. It was that invisible pull again, one second her eyes were nothing but hazy tears, and the next they were trained directly into mine – deep into mine. Then they shifted rapidly, so fast it made my body slam back against the couch. They moved right to Angela, who was still sitting on the floor in front of me leaning her back on the couch in between my legs. One hand wrapped around my calf as she trailed her hand up and down, soothing my tense body. I knew she did this because she could unconsciously sense the immediate drop in my mood, and the tension that rolled from my body, but Eli wouldn’t know that. She wouldn’t have a clue that this gorgeous, dark woman between my legs was one of the only family members I had. But I vowed in the second before her eyes disappeared behind the tears again I’d tell her, and it would be tonight.

  Shaw moved to Eli, blocking her from my view with his overgrown body. I’d known Shaw from his dealings with other bands over the years, and I’d wanted to kick his sorry ass since the moment his name stabbed into my ears; at least now, I had a legitimate reason. He directed Eli to the chair directly across the room from me, plopping down and pulling her on his lap. Her eyes never moved back to the couch, or me. I would have known the second they did because my eyes never left her face.

  The Elle’s took Eli’s interruption as an excuse to finally take a break. All four girls scattered to opposite ends of the studio telling me they were just as dysfunctional as my band mates were – fucking fabulous, that made eight raging lunatics to worry about instead of the usual four.

  Duke hadn’t so much as looked my direction since Angela and I entered. I saw him nod a hello to Angela a few minutes after we arrived and saw his features soften as realization of her presence, hopefully, hit him. Duke had helped me the last time Angela got strung out. He stayed with us while I got her detoxed and as close to sanity as she could have been at that time. That was right after Tony started his stint upstate.

  I stared, shards of ice pumping through my veins, as Eli snuggled into Shaw and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Fuckin’ shit.” I muttered to myself. The only thing stopping me from hauling ass over there and pounding Shaw into the fucking ground was Eli didn’t belong to me. She didn’t fucking belong to me. I wanted her to, though. I wanted to lay claim to her so bad, I ached. But I hadn’t, so I kept my ass planted on the expensive couch that was the softest thing I’d ever felt—second only to Eli’s touch.

  One of The Elle’s was chattering to Angela and putting a serious damper on my sulking as she cracked jokes and they laughed loudly. If I didn’t know better I would have thought this chick was putting her best moves over on my girl Ang – but what the fuck did I know, she probably was, and even knowing nothing about this chick, I knew it would be a huge fucking leap from whomever Angela just finished messing with.

  A shadow moved to stand in front of me and I looked up, into Duke’s hard eyes.

  “Wanna play while they’re taking a break?” He clipped at me.

  I looked down at my battered left hand. The knuckles were crusted over with huge scabs and there was still dried blood clinging to the thick creases surrounding them. Duke must have followed my eyes because I heard him groan loudly. Yeah, it was pretty fucking obvious he was tired of my shit. But you know what, I was getting pretty fed up with his, too.

  I jumped to my feet, “Damn straight.” I said, walking past him and to the guitar Willow had just removed from her body. She watched me approaching her coveted instrument, but I stopped and pointed at it. She nodded her head, giving me her okay to touch what I knew she felt was an extension of her own flesh and blood. I hadn’t brought my own because there’s no way I should have been playing with how badly my hand throbbed, but I wasn’t going to let Duke fuck with me.

  “Forget it.” I heard Duke call from behind me. “You can’t play with your hand like that.” He sounded so defeated, and I hated I’d caused him to sound like such a pussy.

  “No, I’m fucking playing, so get your ass to the mic.” I snapped at him.

  Johnny and Blaine moved to their places and we all stared at Duke, waiting for him decide. He shook his head, laughed, and grabbed the microphone.

  A slow drumbeat thrummed through my body, calming me immediate
ly; music always had that effect. No matter what, I could count on the melody to soothe me and set my shit straight. My fingers glided over the strings causing a full-bodied sound to stream through the amp. Even though this wasn’t my guitar, and it didn’t feel perfect under my fingers, it was the music flowing through it that mattered.

  Duke’s voice rang through the room and everyone froze to watch us. I could feel Eli’s eyes burning a hole right through me. I tried hard not to look at her, so fucking hard, but my fight was pointless. When our eyes locked I saw more tears in her eyes, but also a smile on her face—my music soothed her, too.

  We played song after song, and Eli’s eyes never left mine. They moved from my face, to my fingers, then back to my face on a steady loop. I wanted to rush to her, pull her to me, and claim her mouth right here in front of a room full of people. But she was here with Shaw, fucking sitting on Shaw. I knew my eyes must have moved to him because she turned her head slightly to peek at him. When she turned back, her smile had faded. Shaw was stunned when she leapt from his lap and rushed out the door. I followed her with my eyes until the door slammed behind her and she was gone. Shaw moved after her, but Willow put her hand up to his chest to stop him. They exchanged words then walked out the door together. Only this time he didn’t get to fucking save her, I did.

  I looked to Duke and he nodded, and even though I wasn’t asking his permission, I appreciated it. I set Willow’s guitar down, and for the third time, the studio door flew open and slammed shut. I immediately heard Willow talking.

  “No, I think you just need to give her some time. This isn’t easy for her, not to mention she’s drunk.”

  “Will, I don’t know what to do. She’s been great these past few days. Sometimes it was like it used to be, then she’ll shut down and everything changes. She’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to stop it.” Shaw replied.

  “You had to know things would be different. After what happened, Shaw, you better be glad she’s even speaking to you because I’m not convinced she should be.” Willow snapped at him.