Jag (Pandemic Sorrow #1)

by Stevie J. Cole

  I wet my lips with the edge of my tongue. “I don’t want any pussy.”

  “Well, good, then. Keep the damn mun, but a mun won’t get you dick either.”

  ****

  After Rush had decided the girls who trotted up weren’t freaky enough for him because they wouldn’t agree to a threesome, he placed his hand on my shoulder. “Dude, how many chicks you think you’ve screwed?”

  I wasn’t drunk enough yet. “Hey, pr –” I stopped myself. Suddenly, it didn’t seem right to call another girl princess. “Hey, you. Woman – girl.” What the hell do you call chicks if you don’t call them princess or babe?

  The bartender looked up from the ice bin. “Can I help you, dude, man –” A wicked curl formed over her pink lips, “– god of sex and desire?”

  I let a small chuckle roll from my mouth. “Yeah. Can you just pour me a glass of bourbon?”

  “Like, on the rocks?”

  Shaking my finger, I said, “No. A glass.” I reached over the bar top and grabbed a drinking glass, slamming it down in front of her. “A glass of bourbon,”

  “That’s like half a bottle or something.”

  I shrugged. “So charge me for a bottle. I don’t care. I mean, if you’ll let me, I’ll just take that bottle right there.” I pointed to the shelves behind the bar. “Angel’s Envy. I’ll drink it straight from the bottle.”

  Her hand flew up to her mouth to cover the laugh, her bracelets clinking together. “I can’t do that.”

  “Okay. Just put it in this glass.” I tapped the rim.

  “Not supposed to do that either.”

  “Not even for Jag Steele?”

  Her eyes pulsed open when she realized she may be able to bribe me. “Well. Maybe for a kiss.”

  Normally, I would have jumped behind the bar and bent her backwards as I rammed my tongue down her throat, grinding my dick against her and groping her breasts, but this time panic crippled me. I felt the grin fade from my face, and she looked worried, like maybe she’d just offended me.

  I motioned for her to come over and wrapped my hand around her neck to pull her to me. Inching my face closer to hers, I pressed my lips against her cheek, and then released her. She took several steps back, a large grin spreading over her mouth as she reached for the bottle. “Well, I was hoping for one on the lips, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  I smiled and watched as she filled the glass to the brim.

  “What – the hell – was that?” Rush taunted. “Jag Steele would’ve dry humped that bitch’s leg off, possibly flung her up on the bar and fucked her in front of everyone – she’s fucking hot, dude! Who the hell are you?”

  “Jagger, the guy that’s got a girlfriend.”

  Rush cut his hand through the air, snarling his lip up. “Aw, fuck that shit, dude. Really? God. Now who the hell am I supposed to fuck chicks with? Damn. You can’t be serious.” He stared at me for a good minute before getting up and heading toward a couple of skanky-looking chicks across the room. I finished my drink, walked to the bathroom and did a line, then left, wandering aimlessly around River Street.

  Chapter 32

  The next afternoon I was rudely awoken when the bus ran over a pothole and slammed my head up against the bunk above mine. My arm was throbbing; sharp spurts of pain radiated through my flesh. I glanced down to see what the fuck I’d done to it the night before, and there was a bandage taped over it.

  “Fuck!” I groaned. “Did I get fucking stabbed? Oh, hell, please tell me I didn’t do heroin again,” I mumbled.

  When I pulled the tape loose and saw what was underneath, I couldn’t help but let out a loud sigh. “Shit.”

  There was a fresh tattoo on the inside of my bicep, and it read: Layne.

  Fucking hell! So much for getting that memory out of my head. Shit. What the hell am I gonna tell Roxy? Layne Staley. I fucking got Layne Staley tattooed on me. After all, he was my inspiration.

  The name of my son, who I felt forced to sign over for his own good, who had called me Mr. Jag the day before, had been permanently inked on my flesh. Nothing went on my flesh that didn’t have a deep meaning, and now I had this!

  I sat up and rubbed my hands over my crusted over eyes. The light coming in through the window added to the pounding headache that suddenly pulsed through my skull and down through my teeth. I swung my legs over the side of the bunk, and then I heard a painful sounding yelp come from the bathroom.

  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucking shit!” Rush screamed. I heard the toilet flush, and then he scrambled out of the bathroom.

  Staring out in the hallway, I saw him in nothing but boxers, leaning against the wall and holding his crotch, his head tilted up like he was begging the heavens to help him. His bottom lip was clenched tightly under his teeth. I stumbled out of the bed, and he looked at me with an expression of absolute fear and horror. I knew that look all too well.

  “Got the drip?” I asked, pushing past him into the bathroom. I whipped my dick out and aimed for the toilet. The bus bumped over another pothole, and piss shot over the rim into the floor. “Shit.” I tossed a hand towel on top of the puddle and flushed the toilet.

  I shook myself, then stuffed everything back in its place before going to the doorway. “Green shit? Burn like hell when you piss?” I stared at him and his face was still pale, his hand clutching his dick like it would fall to the floor if he let go. “Oh, man. Don’t tell me you got sores. If you’ve got sores, you’re fucked.”

  “It looks like zombie brains oozing out of my damn tip. Like thick, sticky snot.” Rush pulled the waistband of his boxers out and peered down at his wounded member. “Shit. We’ve been through so much…and now, look at you.”

  “Are you talking to your fucking dick?” I asked, running my finger over the raised skin on my arm.

  “This shit hurts.”

  “Yeah. You’re gonna have to go to the doctor, unless you just want to keep it like that?”

  Rush made his way out into the open area of the bus and sank down in one of the chairs, looking completely dejected and disgusted.

  Stone pulled his ear buds out and pointed at a pale-faced Rush. “What’s his deal?”

  Stretching, I reached over and patted Rush on the shoulder. “Finally got the clap. I feel like we should have a party for him, you know, his first STD and all.” My lips flipped up into a mocking grin. “He’s just growing up so fast. And as soon as we find out exactly what little critter has taken up house in your genitals, we can make those shirts you wanted. ‘My clap’s famous, compliments of Rush Wilder, what about yours?’” I tossed my head back and laughed.

  Rush swung at me and then leaned his head down, cradling it in his hands as he ran his fingers through his knotted-up hair. “Shit’s not funny.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve made it this long without catching anything. We’ve all had that shit a few times,” Stone said, trying to console him.

  “It’s ‘cause he always goes for the young ones. You know, the virgins that don’t know any better,” Pax mumbled from the other end of the bus.

  Beating the shit out of Pax and completely humiliating him had cleansed me of most of my anger. I could tolerate him now, but we’d never be friends again. Thankfully, when he found out River had tossed my phone in the pool, he’d called Roxy himself to apologize and assure her I wasn’t fucking around on her. Had that incidence cost me my relationship, I would have killed him, and he knew it. After that, he sent River back; I guess he figured the bitch was more trouble than she was worth. If she had tried to finish out this stint of the tour with us, I would have laid down in front of the bus and asked them to just run me the fuck over.

  “Yeah, well, Pax, when we take Rush to the clinic, you’ll probably want to go ahead and get a preventative regimen for your shit too. River’s pretty skank herself.” I stood up and made my way to the back. “Tell Tink to stop off at some doc in the box, Rush. Trust me. You don’t want to let that shit get outta hand.”

  Chapter 33
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  I had been standing outside of the concert hall for twenty minutes. We had to stop to get Rush’s dick checked out so he could get a shot in his ass, and have some middle-aged prude preach about safe sex and all that shit we’d heard a million times. The extra time that took meant that I couldn’t pick Roxy up like I’d planned. I’d argued with Jules, but she refused to let me leave. Management put us on fucking lockdown for three hours before the show. We had to be at the venue.

  That order stemmed from one incident, before they had sense enough to enforce that rule, when Rush and I went wandering around Las Vegas before a show. We ended up downing some ecstasy and hooking up with a few girls, possibly prostitutes, who knows; but we completely lost track of time, making the show start almost two hours late.

  Jules had said one of the roadies could go pick her up, but I shot that down. No other man was going to go pick my girl up. After I pitched a fit for a good fifteen minutes, Jules finally offered to get a limo to pick Roxy up. So there I stood, waiting, and I was fucking sober as hell.

  The black stretch Escalade rolled to a stop, and my heart started banging. I went to grab the door handle, and Roxy swung the door open. To my fucking surprise, she was in a Pandemic Sorrow t-shirt. It was a t-shirt from our first tour six years ago. That brought a huge, stupid looking grin to my face.

  She slammed the door shut and the driver brought her bags around.

  Roxy glared at me with her heavily lined eyes. “Seriously, a damn limo? I swear, I could strangle you…” She fell silent and her lips spread across her face. “And I missed you.”

  Grabbing her, I slapped my mouth over hers. I gripped her head in my palms and pressed my lips over hers in an effort to show her how much I’d missed her. I took in a breath full of Coco Mademoiselle, then backed away from her. “I can honestly say that I have missed the fuck out of you.” I ran my hands down her arms and yanked at her sleeve. “And where the hell did you get this shirt, huh, princess?”

  One corner of her mouth rose and she laughed. “I thought it would make you horny.”

  “Well, I’d have preferred you be butt-ass naked…you didn’t answer me. Where’d you get it?”

  “So. Maybe I’ve been lying to you. Just a little bit. Maybe I used to be slightly obsessed with you when you first came out. But I swear, I did hate you when I met you. Just to be clear.”

  “Oh, trust me. You made that painfully obvious.” I gave her another quick kiss and grabbed her bags.

  “So, you’ve no idea the shit I’ve caught. How do you put up with that?

  “How do I put up with what?”

  One of the stage hands walked past. “That your girl?” he asked.

  I smiled and proudly said, “Yeah. Sure is.”

  He kept walking, dragging speakers behind him.

  Roxy looked at me. “Do you not talk to him?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “That’s rude. You’re an unappreciative ass, aren’t you?”

  I grabbed her hand. “Put up with what?”

  “People harassing the absolute hell out of you! I came out of my apartment last night to find a paparazzi – paparazzo, whatever the hell you call those creeps – sitting across the street. Camped out!”

  “Really? Hmm. How do you know it wasn’t just some strange guy?” I asked as we rounded the corner of the hallway.

  “As soon as I stepped foot on the sidewalk, he ran over and started snapping pictures,” she groaned. “Then he followed me and Layla to the gas station. I made the mistake of getting out of the car to go get a drink.” Roxy stopped, a perturbed look on her face. “People were freaking staring at me like I was a damn freak. Some random girl actually came up to me in tears – in tears, Jag – saying that I stole you. Psy-fuckin’-chotic!”

  I tried really hard to contain the laugh that was threatening to rupture from my mouth. I liked her angry, and I loved that someone thought she’d stolen me.

  “Well, it’s the price you pay to have such a stellar boyfriend.” I was only joking, but I’m not sure she could tell.

  “Then, this morning, surprise, one of them’s creeping out in front of my apartment again. The guy actually stood right in front of me and took pictures, walking backwards…”

  I just nodded my head and listened to her. I knew exactly how annoyed she was, and I found it utterly entertaining.

  “He kept asking me dumbass questions about River. Like I fucking know anything about her. I cussed him out, Jag. I made up new words cussing this man out. Then I hit him a couple of times with my purse.” Roxy let out a sigh.

  “Sounds like you’ve got the hang of it. Like you were cut out for this.”

  “I didn’t ask for this. I in no way wanted this attention. I don’t like it. I cannot handle it. At all.”

  “Well,” I said, finally letting a slight chuckle seep from my lips, “did you really think you could get involved with me and not have your entire life disrupted? I disrupt everything I touch.” I stopped and grabbed her by the waist as I leaned toward her. “See, now… now you can ask yourself what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself in, because it’s too late to get out. You’ve been tainted, stalked by paparazzi, and now the entire world knows you’ve screwed me.”

  She let out a short-lived laugh and quickly narrowed her eyes at me. “And speaking of your ex.” One of her brows arched and her foot started slamming against the floor. “What the hell was she doing with you the other night when you called me? Neither you, nor Pax, made that very clear to me. I mean, not to sound possessive or anything, but if you say you’re mine, damn it, you’re mine!”

  I hadn’t even bothered mentioning that entire ordeal to her since that night. Should have since River yanked the phone up and hissed poison into it, but hadn’t. I’d figured Pax’s sniveling an apology into the phone had served its purpose.

  “Oh, come on, now. Pax told you he was fucking her and that he’d brought her to the show. Maybe I forgot to mention that earlier that night the fucker called me a pussy on stage. So I decked him, then she attacked me, and on her way back to his hotel room she decided to tell me what she thought of me. That’s why she was with me.”

  Roxy glared at me. “Yeah, I read about that in the checkout line at the grocery store the night before I left.” She glanced down at the floor momentarily, then back up at me with a pissed look. “I’m going to trust you. Just know that I have no tolerance for lies or any other bullshit you’ve been able to pull with all the other girls you’ve been in relationships with. You fuck up with me, you fuck up, and you’ll be dead to me. I do not, in any way, believe in second chances. If I find out you’re lying to me, I will punch you in the face, and growing up in the ghetto – I know how to throw a punch hard enough to knock you out!”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Good to know. Trust me, I’m not gonna fuck this up. I’m not a complete dumbass.” I stared at her, running my tongue over my lips as I imagined all the dirty shit I was going to do to her. “Come on.”

  We walked through the doorway and into the empty arena. The stage had been set up, and the roadies were working on getting the amps and equipment hooked up. Just as we stepped on the floor, the backdrop with our logo unfurled, the noise echoing off the metal chairs.

  “Whoa!” Roxy mumbled. “So, all this is for you. How does that feel?”

  “Pretty damn amazing.”

  “Is this seriously real life?”

  I glanced down at her and laughed. “Yeah, princess. Real fucking life.”

  “Damn. It’s hard to pretend you’re just Darryl right now.”

  We continued walking toward the stage. “Hey!” I shouted. “Hey, guys!”

  The men on the stage stopped what they were doing and glanced up.

  “Gonna need you guys to go find something else to do for about half an hour or something.”

  They stood there, staring at me. Then Jules jumped off the stage and came stomping down one of the aisles in my direction. “What the hell are you trying to do, Jag? Huh?�
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  “I just want to show her around.”

  Jules huffed and tilted her head to the side. “Well, they don’t have to leave for you to do that.” She glanced over at Roxy. “Nice to meet you, Roxy – right? I don’t know what the hell you’ve done to this jackass, but I’d like to thank you for making him somewhat tolerable.” Her eyes darted back over to me. “I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not stupid.”

  I tossed my hands up. “I’m not trying to do anything.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Tink. Shut the hell up and get those guys out of here. You wouldn’t let me leave to go get her, so just let me have my fucking fun.”

  Roxy whacked me in the back of the head. “Don’t be an ass to her!”

  Jules smiled. “Man. I fucking love her! Exactly what you need, Jag. Exactly!”

  “And,” Roxy glared at me, “I’m not fucking you in here. So get that out of your perverted little head.”

  I nodded. I’d slept with her one time, well a lot of times in one night, but still once! And I was determined to fuck the absolute shit out of her within the next ten minutes. “Yeah, yeah,” I laughed, letting one corner of my lip lift up. I set my eyes on Jules, raising my eyebrows. “Is it too much to ask for some alone time?”

  Jules glared at me, her eyes narrowing and her nostrils flaring slightly. “There’s an entire world to have ‘alone time’ in, Jag.”

  I locked my gaze on Jules, widening my eyes to let her know I was serious. “But I can’t leave. Remember?” I growled.

  Jules let out an agitated huff, rolled her eyes, and then screeched for everyone to “get the fuck out.”

  I watched as they all exited, and then I wrapped my arms around Roxy, yanking her close to me. “So, princess.” I pressed my lips over hers for a moment, whipping my tongue across her lips before tracing it down her neck to her collarbone and then back up, looping behind her earlobe. “You’re not,” I let a heated whisper rush over her ear as my hands firmly groped between her thighs, “going to what me in here?” A soft groan rolled from my lips and my grip tightened, the heat between her legs increasing and her back arching slightly.