“So, Dad… what’re you doing here, anyway? I mean, are you on business or something?” Ryan said, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded.
“Yeah, business…” John said, his voice trailing off as he grinned. “So why don’t you show me around the superstar’s house?”
“I… Okay,” Ryan said, seeing a chance to keep him there till his mother got home.
Half an hour later, Nicolette drove up to the house. She jumped out of her car and ran inside. “Ryan?” she yelled as she walked in, as if she were just coming home from work.
“Mom! Hi!” Ryan said, moving to hug her, basically to get away from his father. During the last half hour, all his father had talked about was what a pansy Jerith was, and that if he was a real man he’d get an honest job, and what a dirtbag town he’d moved him and his mother to.
Nicolette stood in the kitchen looking at her ex-husband, her emerald green eyes narrowed just slightly. “John, you’re supposed to call before you come for a visit, and you don’t belong in this house.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have His Majesty’s phone number.” John sneered. “And information don’t exactly give that kind of stuff out, now, do they?”
“I sent you the information, along with this address. It’s obvious you got the email—you’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am,” John said, moving toward her. Nicolette stood her ground, staring him straight in the eye.
“And now you can leave,” she said coolly.
“Not without spending some time with my son.”
“You’ve spent…” Nicolette looked down at her watch. “A half hour with him. I consider that time. Ryan, go outside for a little while. Your father and I have something to discuss.” Ryan looked at his mother for a long moment, obviously loath to leave her side. “Go on, Ryan,” she said, giving him a look that said she’d be okay.
When Ryan had left the room she turned back to John. “Now, I want you out of here, and don’t come back again without calling me.”
Nicolette saw John tense, but didn’t react fast enough to miss his hand as it lashed out to slap her. She cried out involuntarily from the shock. He’d never struck her when he was sober; it was the last thing she had expected.
“That,” John said, rubbing the palm of his hand absently, “was for being a bitch. Just wait till you see what I’m going to do to you for dragging my son to this pit of a city,” he snarled, and started toward her.
Nicolette reacted by stepping back and reaching for the gun at the small of her back, at the exact same time the front door was thrown open and Jerith strode in. Nicolette had called him before leaving the office; he had known there was another man in his territory.
“Get the fuck away from my wife,” Jerith said, his tone low and threatening, his blue eyes points of fire.
John was momentarily stunned, first by the fact that his ex-wife had been prepared to draw down on him and secondly that her husband had just shown up. He recovered his composure quickly as Nicolette moved her hand away from the butt of her gun. “And what do you think you’re going to do to me, Kid?”
“If you lay a hand on her—” Jerith started to say, then saw the red mark already starting on Nicolette’s cheek. His eyes widened in surprise at what he’d obviously missed, then narrowed as he looked at John, who was foolish enough to look proud. “You fucking sonofabitch,” Jerith said and, to John’s shock, rushed at him, knocking him to the ground.
Jerith landed a good punch to John’s jaw before John managed to gain the advantage. Using police techniques for taking suspects into custody, John got Jerith down on the ground, but Jerith’s outrage made him stronger. With the strength and stamina that had seen him through months of grueling concerts, Jerith shoved John away from him and managed to get to his feet, dragging John up with him. Then, holding him by two handfuls of his jacket, he rammed him against the nearest wall, pinning him there as he stared into his face.
“If you ever touch my wife again,” Jerith said, breathing heavily from the exertion of fighting, “there won’t be a badge big enough for you to hide behind.” He let go of John then, and the sudden lack of support caused him to fall heavily to the floor as Jerith walked over to Nicolette.
Nicolette had watched the scuffle in shock, not sure what to do. She had drawn her gun and held it at her side in case John tried to fight dirty. It amazed her that Jerith, though smaller and much less stocky than her ex, had managed to gain the upper hand.
Jerith pulled her into his embrace and looked back at John, who was standing up. “Now, get the fuck out of my house.”
“This ain’t over,” John said as he wiped the blood away from his mouth.
“It is over,” Jerith said, nodding. “Next time, I’ll kill you.”
“Ryan’s my son. I have a right to see him,” John said indignantly, as if that had been the issue all along.
“He’s my son now too, and you can see him when you call ahead. But don’t ever set foot inside my house again, or I’ll have you arrested, or shot—whichever is more convenient at the time.”
John narrowed his eyes, but said nothing further. He turned and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
Jerith looked down at Nicolette, touching her cheek. “You okay?”
Nicolette nodded, then noticed the blood on his hand. She took his hand gently, reaching for his other as well and examining them. “Jesus, Jerith, your hands. How are you going to be able to play?”
Jerith grinned. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m a lead singer now too, huh?”
“And a fighter—how come I didn’t know you could fight?” She walked him over to the couch, pulling him down next to her.
“I told you, I grew up on the mean streets of New Jersey,” Jerith said chidingly. “But you figured ’cause I’m such a pretty boy, I couldn’t fight, right?” He gave her a mockingly angry look.
“Well, you are a pretty boy, that’s for sure,” she said, smiling. “As well as my protector, so it would seem.”
“Indeed,” Jerith said, looking very cocky. Then he looked at her seriously. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine. He only slapped me—it surprised me more than anything else. He only hit me before when he was drunk. He was stone cold sober today.”
“If he comes back—” Jerith began to say, but Nicolette cut him off.
“I’ll shoot him,” she said with a contemptuous look.
“Good.” Jerith leaned down to kiss her.
Ryan found them a half hour later, still kissing on the couch. He thought it was the coolest thing that his mom was making out with her husband, who was the Kid Michaels, on the couch like a teenager.
They were all quieter at dinner that night, but by the following day, John’s visit was forgotten.
****
Three months later, there was a report on the news that Billy Montague had almost died when she was high on cocaine and alcohol and in a depressed state had slit her wrists. Jerith was very quiet that night, and Nicolette didn’t bother him; she knew he was worried. She wondered if Billy had finally hit bottom, knowing that was the only way the woman was ever going to get off the drugs, if they didn’t kill her first. Billy was in a critical condition for nearly two weeks. Jerith called the hospital frequently for updates, but never went to see her. He wasn’t willing to get sucked into her problems again. He knew his life was just getting back on track; his album was almost finished, and the last thing he needed now was to get looped into Billy’s needs again.
Billy was moved to the stable list after three weeks, and Jerith was told she was progressing well. Again, he didn’t go to see her. Nicolette could see he was fighting a battle with himself over it, but she also knew it was something he needed to work through. She knew he would talk to her if he wanted to—but he didn’t.
Two months after Billy’s near death, Jerith “Kid” Michaels released Solo. Rolling Stone hailed the album as groundbreaking. The fans were enthralled,
and within weeks the record stores were clamoring for more copies. Jerith was on top again, this time without Billy.
Nicolette was thrilled for him, and Jerith gave her all the credit for his success. The album was comprised of songs about life in general. One of the most popular singles, “The Noose,” was about co-dependency and how it could suck you in and almost kill you. The first song to hit number one, however, was one that Jerith dedicated to his wife, “Nicky”; it was entitled “Blindsided”. The song detailed having dreams of the perfect woman, knowing what you want, looking for that perfect person, and being blindsided by love. Nicolette loved it, and couldn’t help but smile every time she heard it.
Because of Kid Michaels’ obvious devotion to his wife, she had become almost as famous as he was. When he was asked for interviews, many times they requested his wife be there as well. Nicolette shied away from such interviews; being a special agent for a law enforcement agency caused a lot of friction. When she made supervisor within three months of the release of Jerith’s album, she was finally freed from the worries of undercover work. Suddenly her picture appeared everywhere, always with Jerith. The world fell in love with the idea of falling in love and finding the perfect mate.
Ryan’s sixteenth birthday occurred during the rise of Jerith’s album, but Jerith made a point of being home for it. Ryan woke late that morning and walked out to the kitchen. He caught his mother and Jerith kissing. She was sitting on the island, and Jerith stood between her legs, holding her close. They looked up, grinning, when Ryan cleared his throat pointedly.
“Look, Ry,” Jerith said, his tone conciliatory, “I planned to be home today, but something came up, and… well, shit, I gotta go.” He leaned down, kissing Nicolette again, then headed for the door, pulling on his jacket. Ryan stared after him, stunned. Jerith had never treated him so offhandedly before; he was beginning to wonder if the star-trip thing was starting to set in. Jerith didn’t seem to notice as he flipped him a wave and said, “I’ll try to make it back so we can all do dinner or something, okay?” Then he closed the front door.
Ryan looked over at his mother, his mouth still hanging open. Nicolette looked a bit aghast as well. Then the front door opened again, and Jerith strode in, looking harried. “Forgot something,” he said, walking over and picking up his guitar case. Then he walked to the door again, where he turned back, looking at Ryan. “Oh, yeah, happy birthday, man,” he said, and with that, tossed something at Ryan.
Ryan was still so stunned by Jerith’s erratic behavior he didn’t even react, allowing the object to strike his hand and fall to the floor. Then he bent down to pick it up. It was a set of keys. He looked up to see Jerith still standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, and then looked at his mother, who was smiling widely.
“Is this what I think it is?” he said, not daring to hope.
Jerith’s grin widened. “Check the garage.”
Ryan let out a banshee scream and ran headlong for the garage. Jerith walked back into the kitchen and took Nicolette’s hand. As they followed Ryan, they could already hear his excited “Oh my God”s.
“Think he likes it?” Jerith said as they opened the door.
“I think he damn well better.”
Jerith had bought Ryan a convertible white Honda Accord, which was reported to be the car for teenagers at that point. Jerith had wanted to buy him something racier, but Nicolette had told him no. “I don’t want him to end up going off a cliff because of some damn sports car,” she had said. As it was, the Accord had the best, most powerful engine Jerith could find—the whole spoiler package, the best rims, the most expensive stereo system, a leather interior, and every other gadget known to man.
Ryan turned to look at Jerith, who stood in the doorway. There were actual tears in his eyes as he strode over to hug his stepfather. He had long since started calling himself Ryan Michaels, even though John refused to allow Jerith to adopt Ryan legally.
“Thanks, Kid. Jesus… this is too cool,” he said, not even sure what to say to properly thank him. “I don’t know what to say, man.”
“Say you’ll be careful, or your mom’ll kill me,” Jerith said, smiling at Nicolette over Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan nodded, and then turned to his mother, reaching out to hug her.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said. Then he pulled away and grinned rakishly. “Anybody want to go for a ride?”
****
A week later, Jerith did something he’d never planned to do—he found himself on Billy’s front doorstep. He pushed the buzzer.
“Yes?”
“Billy, it’s me,” Jerith said hesitantly.
There was silence for a long moment, and Jerith wondered if she was even going to let him in. Then the intercom buzzed to life again. “Come in,” she said, her tone noncommittal, and Jerith heard the lock click open. He reached for the door handle, wondering what he would find inside.
Billy Montague was still trying to recover from the shock that Jerith had actually come to see her. She had never really expected to hear from him again. She met him as he came down the hallway toward her living room.
Jerith was taken aback by her appearance. Billy looked fantastic, better than she had in years. Her eyes were bright and clear, she looked physically fit, and she basically seemed to glow with health. Jerith stopped in his tracks, staring wide-eyed.
“What?” Billy asked, surprised by his reaction.
“Didn’t you almost die a while back?” he said, then gave her a wry grin. “Or was that a different Billy Montague?”
Billy shook her head, smiling. “You don’t know how right you are, Kid,” she said, walking toward him and hugging him. “I hear your album is doing great. Congratulations.”
When they parted, she turned and walked back toward the living room. She sat on the couch. Jerith joined her, surprising her by sitting closer than she would have expected him to.
“Yeah,” he said in response to her comment. “It’s doing pretty good.”
“Pretty good, he says.” Billy made a face. “It’s climbing the charts like a cat with its butt on fire.”
“Okay, maybe,” Jerith said, grinning. “So how are you?”
Billy looked at him for a long moment, surprised that he even cared. Jerith noticed her hesitation and looked immediately contrite. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner, I just…” he started, but Billy shook her head.
“Don’t sweat it, Kid. I understand. I was a real mess for a long time, but I’m better now, really,” she said, sounding very sincere.
“Yeah?” Jerith asked quietly.
“Yeah. I am really glad you’re doing good, Kid. For all the shit you put up with from me, you deserve this now. And I note that your marriage is going well.”
Jerith grinned widely. “You could say that.”
“Jesus, she’s practically a household name right up there with you,” Billy said, without any sort of jealousy in her voice.
Jerith was surprised. “Yeah, much to her dismay.”
They talked for a while, and eventually Jerith stood to leave. Billy stood too, and hugged him again. Jerith noticed that she held him for a little bit longer than normal, and he pulled away, looking down at her. As he’d suspected, she had tears in her eyes.
“What is it, Billy?” he asked softly.
Billy shook her head. “I just… Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” she said, not wanting to try and explain how awful she felt all of a sudden.
“It does matter,” Jerith said, searching her eyes. “Tell me.”
Billy looked away from him, trying to regain her composure. “I just felt sad all of a sudden. I guess I thought about what we had—you know, as a band—and how I threw all of that away. Jesus, Kid, I almost managed to get you killed.” She sounded shocked at the thought.
Jerith said nothing, only nodded. He didn’t want to tell her it was alright, because he knew it wasn’t, and he didn’t want to lie.
Billy looked at him for a long minute, then reached up to tou
ch his face gently where one of the scratches he’d received in the incident at the concert hadn’t disappeared totally. It was a thin white line half an inch long. “I think about that now, and I just feel sick. If you’d have been killed, I don’t know what I would have done. I probably would have actually managed to kill myself,” she said, shrugging.
“Hey.” Jerith reached out to hug her again. “Don’t say that, Billy. What happened happened, and you’re better now. I can’t say it doesn’t matter, because it did—it was a major turning point in both our lives—but we have to go on now. I have, and you need to for your own sake.”
“I hate it when you’re so damn logical, ya know?” Billy said, grinning up at him with fresh tears in her eyes.
Jerith grinned back. “Yeah, pain in the ass, ain’t it? Look, I want you to come over to the house sometime real soon, okay?”
“Don’t you think Nicolette will hate that? I mean, she hates my guts,” Billy said matter-of-factly.
“She doesn’t hate you, Billy. She was worried about me.”
Billy thought about it for a long time, then nodded. “Got yourself a good one there, huh?”
Jerith nodded. “The best.”
“Well, does she have a brother?”
“Yeah, but he’s married.”
“Figures,” Billy said, laughing.
Jerith left a little while later, securing a promise from her that she would call him anytime, and that she would come to the house the following week for dinner. Billy felt incredibly good after the visit. It was like her life was finally coming back together. She’d been secluded in the house for so long, trying to get healthy again, after all of the garbage she’d pumped into her system over the five months after the breakup of Billy and the Kid. Now she felt like she was really on the mend.
For the next two months, things seemed to get better and better. Billy had dinner with Jerith, Nicolette, and Ryan a few times, and Jerith was very happy to note that she did indeed seem to have cleaned herself up.
Nicolette asked him about it one night after they’d all had dinner.
Missez (Wild Irish Silence Book 4) Page 20