Love Resolution (Black Cat Records series)

by Michelle Mankin

  A group of girls were still giggling at something Bryan had said as they moved to her. While Avery signed Brutal Strength CD’s for them she tuned into Bryan’s conversation with the next teen.

  “Hang in there, man. It’ll get better.” Bryan was leaning forward, elbows on the table. “I know it feels as if high school’s the center of the universe right now, but it’s not.”

  “Dude, if it wasn’t for my mom, I’d quit school. Get the hell out of here. Start over somewhere else.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when I was your age. But my mom, my sisters, and I stuck it out together and found ways to make ends meet. Life wasn’t easy. It kept knocking us down, but we never stayed there. My mom went to school at nights and got her nursing degree.”

  “Doesn’t that take four years?”

  “It does if you don’t have to work days. It took her seven, but she did it. Don’t give up is what I’m trying to say.”

  “I won’t.” He bumped knuckles with Bryan. “Thanks.”

  “Take it easy, man.”

  “Ok. Time’s up at the signing table,” the principal informed everyone, checking his watch. “Mr. Jackson and Miss Jones are going to perform a song for us before they leave.”

  Avery and Bryan picked up their cases and moved to the folding chairs that were set up in the center of the gym.

  Avery managed to smile at Bryan. Just like in LA, he’d been a big hit with the kids. He was confident, yet approachable, with an appealing hint of sensitivity beneath the swagger.

  He rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. “You ready?” he asked, pick poised over the strings of his guitar.

  Avery nodded and kept her head down, trying not to look up into the cameras flashing all around them.

  Bryan bowed his head and strummed the opening chords, taking the lead on vocal and guitar. He rocked back and forth in his chair, his tatted arm draped over the instrument while his twinkling eyes remained on her face. She almost missed her cue to join him on the chorus. At the bridge, he changed the words “she does” to “you do,” personalizing the song. Her finger slipped and her string squeaked. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of those grey green eyes so focused on her face, to no avail.

  And as cheers and whistles rained down on them, something inside of her responded.

  “I know what the problem is,” Marcus grumbled. “This is the same old crap they talked to me about when I was in twelve-steps last year.”

  “And yet here we are again.” The psychiatrist tucked a strand of grey hair back into her bun and peered over her reading glasses at him. She adjusted her jacket when Marcus was silent. “Very well, enlighten me.”

  “I get frustrated with people or circumstances that I can’t control,” Marcus admitted, running an irritated hand through his hair. He glanced at his watch for the third time since the session had started.

  “And so drinking makes you feel more in control?”

  “Of course not. I used drugs in the past as a crutch to numb me, but not anymore.” He blew out a breath. “I thought I was ok, that I could handle a drink or two every once in a while.”

  “I know they didn’t teach you that in rehab.” She leaned forward in her chair. “But everything you’ve shared with me today is pretty superficial. I believe that identifying the underlying issues is the key to moving forward.”

  Marcus tensed. Soul searching sucked.

  “That’s what I want you to think about over the next twenty-four hours.” She stood and tucked her laptop into her attaché case. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll determine how committed you are to really kicking this thing.”

  After escorting the doctor out, Marcus spent the rest of the morning thinking about their conversation.

  Maybe the shrink was right. Maybe there was something to this psychobabble shit.

  The truth was all his life he’d felt like he didn’t measure up. Not to other’s expectations, certainly not to his own. This perception had always been his reality. Quick success hadn’t changed anything for him, not really. It had just given him more distractions- money, women, and drugs. But for him, anything less than perfection felt more like failure.

  Actually, he knew a major part of the deal was that he spent way too much time inside his head, his fallback place. He found it extremely difficult to let loose, especially when it came to relationships. Except with Avery. She had this way of making him feel like he was all that mattered. Just him. Who he was, not what he did or didn’t do. She pushed past all the public persona and neurosis and reached inside of him.

  She was way too good for him. He’d known that back when he proposed, but being without her that week before was hell, and he’d not wanted to ever risk being apart from her again. So, he had made the selfish decision. But now, he had to do the noble thing. His own wants and desires had to be set aside.

  A woman like her deserved a man who had his shit together, not someone who was buried in it.

  A banging on his hotel door brought his thoughts back to the reality in front of him.

  “Marcus!” Dwight shouted.

  Well, shit. Great timing, he thought. Why couldn’t his brother have come a little earlier and interrupted the two hour torture session with the therapist, instead of right now when he needed to finish up with Adrienne?

  “Be back here around ten thirty,” he said to the ethereal blonde sitting across from him. Years ago Adrienne had been an arresting beauty, but now her looks were showing the wear and tear from years of hard living. He ignored another knock on the door. “Don’t be late,” he admonished.

  “Don’t worry, honey.” She put a hand on his chest. “I can’t wait.” She picked up her purse off of the chair and preceded him to the door. He stepped up to hold it open for her.

  Dwight’s eyes widened when he saw her.

  “Hi, Dwight.” Baby blue eyes accentuated with heavy liner looked him over suggestively.

  “Adrienne.” He glanced up and down the hall before giving Marcus a stern look. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Marcus raised a brow.

  “I’d like to do you both.” Adrienne glanced back and forth between the two brothers. “For old times’ sake.” Her manicured hands patted both their cheeks.

  “In case you didn’t notice,” Dwight said as he withdrew her hand. “I’m a married man now.”

  “I know that, honey.” She gave a low laugh. “Those little rings don’t stop most of them.”

  “I’m not most of them,” he said, glaring at Marcus.

  “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it, honey.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Marcus told her firmly with a swat on her rear to get her going.

  “Looking forward to it,” she said wiggling her ass as she sashayed down the hall.

  When she was out of earshot, Dwight rounded on him. “Have you lost your ever loving mind?” he asked, storming inside the room. He glanced at the made up bed before turning around. “Tell me you aren’t sleeping with her?”

  Marcus crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What are you thinking, man? When Avery finds out, it’ll end things between you two for good.”

  “Stay out of it, Dwight.” Marcus’ jaw tightened. “It doesn’t concern you.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.” Dwight’s face settled into angry lines. “You know what? Never mind. Suit yourself. You always do. You want to destroy your life? Go right ahead.” His shoulder brushed against Marcus as he strode briskly toward the door. He opened it and paused without turning around. “But you might think about the rest of us for once.”

  Marcus let out a long breath staring at the door long after it clicked closed.

  That’s exactly what I’m doing.

  “Hey sis, how’re you holding up?”

  “I’m alright,” Avery sighed, putting Justin on speaker while she stepped into her clothes for the concert.

  “You don’t sound very convincing.”

  “I don’t know, Justi
n,” she said impatiently. “Listen, I’ve only got a couple of minutes before I go on and I need to get makeup.”

  “You’ve been skirting around the subject every time I bring it up. I know you don’t want to talk about Marcus. That it’s real awkward given the fact that Dad and I are staying with his family. But I’ve been silent long enough so I’m gonna speak my piece.” He paused. “The guy’s a jerk. He’s not worth it, Avery. The way he’s treated you throughout this whole deal, it pisses me off.”

  “Justin, please.” Her voice caught. “This isn’t helping.”

  “It just makes me crazy not being there for you when you really need me.”

  “You are, though.” Tears filled her eyes. “Hearing your voice. Knowing you’re just a phone call away. It’s keeping my head above water,” she admitted.

  “Dad wants to talk to you.”

  “Not now, Justin.”

  “Avery, c’mon. He’s really worried, too.”

  “Just for a minute then. I’m really late already.” She heard him hand the phone over.

  “Kat?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you’re hurting right now. I’m sorry I can’t do more to help.”

  “Arthur, I’ve gotta get going.”

  “Just one more thing, Kat, and I’ll let you go. I have to say I agree with your brother. He doesn’t deserve you. But thank God, love isn’t always about getting what you deserve. Sometimes you get better. Like with me and your mom.”

  She ended the call and sank down on the chair, remembering how he used to always know the right thing to say when she was upset. This was the dad she had lost. Hot tears escaped from her eyes and rolled down her cold cheeks.

  After the encore, Avery rushed back out on stage to gather up the roses that had now become routine at the end of every show. When she came back off, she ran into Trevor. “Do you know where Marcus is?” she asked breathlessly.

  “He lit out of here right after the encore. I heard him tell Dwight he was going back to the hotel.”

  “Ok.” Her brow furrowed. Though he hadn’t specifically said they’d go back over to the hotel together she had hoped that they would. “Can you call up one of the drivers? I need to go there, too.”

  “Sure, but don’t forget you’ve got a meet and greet.”

  “I know. I know,” she snapped. “Humphrey’s at eleven. I’ll get my fake smile ready.”

  Trevor’s eyebrows rose above the rim of his glasses.

  “I’m sorry.” Quick tears brimmed in her eyes, nerves jangling. “I’m sorry I was short. It’s just…” She shrugged. “I’ll be there,” she said, with a heavy sigh.

  Hurrying back through the maze of cinderblock corridors, dodging people and equipment, she finally reached the parking garage and ducked into a waiting SUV with tinted windows.

  “Miss Jones,” the tour driver greeted her before swiveling around.

  “Evening, David,” she mumbled distractedly, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her bare arms. She hadn’t even bothered to shower or change. Her silk top was damp with sweat. Catching a sudden chill, she fiddled with the temperature controls in the back seat while the vehicle weaved in and out of the concert traffic around the waterfront. She took in a deep breath when they finally pulled into the front driveway of the Shelter Island hotel.

  Avery thanked the driver, slid out of the backseat, and slammed the door before hastening through the lobby. She was barely cognizant of the quick stares of recognition from the people that she passed.

  Quick, purposeful steps brought her to Marcus’ door at the end of the hall. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She tried to steady her nerves by running her fingers through her hair to smooth out the tangles.

  Ok. She was ready. She rapped on the door, took a deep breath, and waited. Thinking her knock had been too tentative to be heard, she lifted her hand to try again. Suddenly, the door opened.

  “Avery.” Marcus dipped his head in acknowledgment, one hand holding the door open, the other holding up the towel that was draped around his narrow waist. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re supposed to talk. Don’t you remember?”

  “Uh, yeah, but maybe now’s not the best time.”

  “Who is it, Marcus?” a woman’s voice inquired from inside the room.

  Avery felt her veins turn to ice as a platinum blonde appeared behind Marcus, her hair wet and dripping into the collar of a hotel robe.

  “You didn’t tell me it was going to be a threesome.” She pouted while Avery stood stricken, held hostage by the horrible drama unfolding before her.

  Avery blinked her eyes shut. “No!” Her mind tried to flee from the truth while her heart sought to barricade itself behind useless denials. Her eyes reopening, she swayed, struggling to find footing in the face of her worst fears realized.

  Everything came into sharp focus in a blinding rush. The water droplets glistening on the black lettering of Marcus’ shoulder tat, the sound of her ragged breath, the erratic pounding of her shattered heart.

  “Avery,” Marcus called and reached out to catch her, fingers curling around her upper arms.

  “Don’t touch me!” It made her sick for his hands to be on her after they’d just been all over that woman. “Damn you!” Fury galvanized her frozen body into motion. She shrugged out of his grasp. “I loved you. Why would you do this to me?”

  The man looking back at her was a total stranger, his face an impenetrable mask.

  I’m always here for you. No matter what.

  Those words of his had been lies. She’d been played for a fool. All the confidences they’d shared obviously meant nothing to him. Had any of it mattered? She felt naked and exposed, completely vulnerable. A low mournful moan escaped her lips. Hot tears of mortification burned her eyes. “I hate you,” she whispered, ripped the engagement ring off her finger, and threw it at his feet.

  She didn’t stop to watch it land. She had to get out of there before she broke down completely.

  Now.

  Tears sheeted over her eyes, blinding her. She stumbled back down the narrow hotel corridor, through the debris of her obliterated hopes and dreams.

  When she finally reached the lobby, she ran to the glass door and threw it open. Sucking in a deep breath of the cold night air, shivering, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, struggling to think.

  “Avery?”

  She turned.

  “What’s happened?” Ray exclaimed after looking at her face.

  She shook her head. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Ok. Alright, Avery.” He spoke in a soothing tone, as if she were a frightened animal ready to bolt. “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”

  “No.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her wet eyes. “I need some time to think. By myself. Alone.”

  “You know I can’t let you do that. It’s not safe. And in the state you’re in, I don’t think it would be a very good idea.”

  “That’s too bad, Ray,” she said defiantly, “because that’s what I’m gonna do.” She marched to the first taxi in the cue, opened the door, and climbed in. Leaning forward, she told the driver where she wanted to go.

  When she sat back, Ray was standing at the side window. She rolled it down.

  “Don’t do this,” Ray pleaded, his hand resting on the bottom frame of the window as if he could somehow prevent the car from leaving.

  “I have to.” She turned over his hand and placed her cell phone in it.

  “Good bye, Ray.”

  The night sky was black, storm clouds obscuring the stars. A gusty wind whipped her hair into her eyes and buffeted her body. Her outward discomfort registered on some level, but it was trivial in comparison to the hollow gnawing pain she felt inside. The Pacific stretched out in wide in front of her. The surf raged. The sound of it roared in her ears, its surface as turbulent as her thoughts.

  There was no solace to be found here.

  Just hurtful memories.


  Every song they had written.

  A lie.

  Every time they’d made love.

  A lie.

  Every gentle touch. Every thoughtful gesture.

  Lies…all of it.

  Leaving her alone.

  That was real.

  Sobbing, shuddering from the bitter wind and the cold rain that had begun to fall, she decided it was time to go in. But when she looked down, she found that the tide had come in. Her rocky perch was now completely surrounded by swirling water.

  Holy crap!

  She scraped her wet hair out of her eyes and scanned the shore for help. It seemed as deserted as it had been when she had first come out. The weather certainly didn’t conjure thoughts of a casual beachside stroll.

  She was going to have to wade back. She slid off the rock, the sharp edges of the adherent crustaceans digging into her palms as she shimmied down into the water. Immediately she found herself in up to her thighs, the surf a lot deeper and a lot colder than she had anticipated.

  Avery began slogging through the icy water. Suddenly, a frigid wave pounded her down to her knees with tremendous force. In its aftermath, she gasped for breath, but managed to regain her footing. Her thin silk top and jeans were saturated and plastered to her freezing skin, offering no protection from the cold.

  She coughed at the salt water that had gotten into her mouth and burned the back of her throat. Her breath came ragged now and her teeth chattered. When she looked toward the shore again, it seemed further away than when she had started out. The current must have dragged her back more than she realized. She began to get really frightened. What if she didn’t make it?

  Panicking, she tried to run through the seething waves, but her legs were too hard to lift. They felt numb and heavy as if they were encased in ice.

  Another large wave smacked into her back. She went under. This time she didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. The weight of the water pressed down upon her, the cold penetrating into the very marrow of her bones. She felt herself slipping away.

  Then she struck the bottom. Instead of the cathartic release she’d expected to find, she found clarity and reasons to renew her resistance. She probably wouldn’t be able to find another man as right for her as she thought Marcus had been, but that was ok. He wasn’t the only thing worth living for. She had her brother. Her friends. Her music.