Silence

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Silence Page 7

by Jaye Cox


  “Fine,” I say, getting out of bed. I knew I was stark naked under the blankets, but she didn't. I knew she was curious after last night, you don't stare at a man’s crotch if you're not. I give it a swing, just for entertainment purposes. The events of last night after she got in the car are vague, I remember her tagging along to the next club, but not much after that.

  “Impressive, but does he also do party tricks?” she taunts, her face totally unaffected by my cock swinging around. Damn, maybe I was wrong last night. “At least you have something going for you,” she says as she walks from the room. It is true, the monster is impressive, although it usually gets a better reaction than that. Why do I care what some stuck-up bitch thinks about my cock anyway? I know I have an "any hole’s a goal" policy, but I bet her pussy has teeth that would like to bite my cock off. The thought sends shivers down my spine and my balls start to withdraw inside me. Bloody hell, I forgot about the blonde I’d bought home in the early hours of the morning, she’s still out cold. I really need to fix that and get her on her way.

  “Oi, get up. It’s time to go,” I say, giving her a little shake. She stirs and stretches, I watch as her naked body comes into view.

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” she says, staring at my crotch.

  “Love, I have a meeting. It’s time to go,” I reiterate, but she doesn’t look impressed. Besides, I’m a fuck ‘em and leave them type of guy; I like a variety of pussy. She slides out of bed and slips back into her mini dress.

  “You asked me to hold onto this for you last night,” she says, holding up a little baggy of white powder. “Something about a mega she-bitch taking your goodies.”

  “Love, you’re a fucking life saver,” I say, taking the bag. I take it straight into the bathroom and rub some of it onto my gums before I stash it, then walk blondie out. I have my driver for the day take her home, she did after all stash my drugs so mega-bitch didn’t take them. That should prolong me being able to leave the house. Mickki, Brodie, Benny, and Drew are all in the kitchen, so maybe we do have an important meeting this morning.

  “Morning everyone. Lovely day, isn’t it?” I say, pouring myself some coffee. Everyone just looks at me.

  “Do you want to put some clothes on?” the she-bitch asks.

  “No, but thanks for asking. We haven’t officially met - I’m Eddie and you are?” I extend my hand, but she just looks at it like it has some kind of disease.

  “Callie. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’d be lying.”

  “Someone’s not a morning person, I see.”

  “I like mornings just fine, thank you, it’s being here that's the problem.”

  “I can fire you if you like; it’d be a –win-win situation then.”

  “You’re not my boss and I promised a friend that I’d help, so here I am. Now, could you please go and put some clothes on.”

  “Too early to rock out with my cock out?” I taunt.

  “Just go get dressed, for fuck’s sake. Not everyone wants to sit around here all day,” Brodie says.

  My house keeper, Delilah arrives. She’s an older lady who lives here in the house, keeps me fed and the house clean, she’s also not afraid of me being naked. “Here are some clean pants,” she says, handing me the pants, but not before she slaps me on my ass and winks at me.

  “You know I love you, right? When are you gonna dump that boyfriend for me? You know you want some of this?” I tease.

  “You youngins, you wouldn’t know a clit from a G spot at your age. I need a man who can handle all this,” she says.

  “Burned,” Mickki laughs.

  As I join the guys at the table, Callie pipes up first. “As you all know, I asked you all here so I can let you all know that I’m Eddie’s sober buddy.” This just makes me laugh.

  “You’re a sober buddy?” I say, trying to contain my laughter.

  “I'm glad you find this amusing Eddie, because I don't see your bandmates laughing. I don't see how them losing their careers because you can't control your drug use is funny either. I'm also glad you think almost overdosing is funny. Do you want me to keep going, or do you want to shut up and listen?” she rants.

  With a zipping motion over my lips, I look at my bandmates. Their sour looks make me think. I honestly didn't think they cared so much. It's not like they're fucking saints, so why is it pick on Eddie week? I must have pissed someone off.

  “I’m here for as long as it takes. I’ve been pre-warned, and seen firsthand, that Eddie can be a pain in the ass, but apparently for some strange reason I'm told that I'm his only chance at getting sober. I have everyone's numbers stored in my phone; if anyone has any questions just shoot me a text.”

  “Are we done here?” I ask, standing quickly, my chair scraping across the floor in a high-pitched squeal.

  “You need my help, even if you don't know it yet. All the drugs and alcohol have been removed from the house to avoid temptations. Oh, and Eddie, Marcus removed the stash that blondie left behind from the bathroom.”

  “Kill me now. Could my life get any worse? I don't have a problem, I can stop whenever I want.”

  “Really? Prove it” she challenges me. Does she really think I'm going to fall for that? Silly woman.

  “What do I get in return?” I say, raising my eyebrows at her.

  “You get a healthy life and you get to keep your job,” she lashes back at me.

  Undeterred, I stalk towards her. She may act all tough, but she’s still a woman and I’m a largish bloke. Plus, her outfit choice needs to be re-evaluated, her shit brown skirt is very unappealing – she could be a crazy cat lady by the look of her. Coming to a stop directly in front of her, I can clearly see derision in her eyes, almost like she hates having to be here.

  “The label would be stupid to drop me, so this has to be a scare tactic. I'm Eddie Diamond and I'm a fucking rock god. Do they think they're the only ones who can do what they do? I'm starting to wonder why you're really here. Let's face it, you don't really want to be here, so my first guess would have been that you wanted to fuck me; I now know it's not that, but I will figure it out.”

  “So, that's a no to a meeting today then?” she questions me, looking straight at me; I can see the annoyance in her eyes.

  “It's a hell no.”

  “That's fine, your mother said you wouldn't go.”

  “You spoke to that she-bitch?” I say, turning to face her again. She shrugs her shoulders. Fucking shit, fuck, shit. Someone told her that woman was my weakness. “Fine, one meeting,” I say through gritted teeth, and give Mickki and the guys the finger as I storm out of the room. Those assholes must have sold me out.

  What a bunch of crap. Still, I humoured Callie and went to a stupid NA meeting. The only issue is that I don't have a problem. And their twelve-step program is ridiculous. Maybe it works for some people, but it's done nothing for me.

  The subsequent meeting with our recording manager, Oliver, was brutal. He made it clear that he doesn't care if I'm a rock god, Fontaine Records will drop me like a sack of shit if I don't pull myself together. The bottom line is if I don't at least try to get sober, I will have to go into rehab or basically they’ll drop us. Reality hits me hard. I can't let my brother down, he’s the one person who made my sorry excuse for a childhood better, and he’s my best friend. I told Oliver I would try. Doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy though; plus, what they don't know won't hurt them. Alcohol might become my new best friend.

  Walking away from Fontaine Records, my driver is waiting out the front along with Damien. I have an appointment at a tattoo shop called Big Moe’s House of Ink. A few years back, this sad sack came to one of our concerts to win his girlfriend back. Turns out he worked at one of the best tattoo shops in Australia and could squeeze me in thanks to Mickki, apparently they still keep in contact. The drive takes a while, Big Moe’s House of Ink is about an hour or so out of the city.

  Callie has been blowing up my phone, and I know I should answer as she�
�s just doing her job, but it's fun pissing her off. She gets under my skin and not in a good way. Damien tells the driver to pull up around the back to avoid any photographers who may be lurking around. Don't ask me how the fuckers know where I'm going, but the slimy assholes always seem to know. Doing a quick scan of the area, I’m happy to see it's free of the paps. We're greeted by a young guy.

  “Hi, I'm Joe,” he says, offering me a hand.

  “I'm Eddie.”

  “As in, Eddie from Black Diamond,” he says. Great, another damn fan. Can't go anywhere without people fangirling all over me.

  “You a fan?” I ask.

  “Actually no, but a friend killed your music when we used to live together, she’s here actually. RUBY!” he yells out for his friend.

  “This better be good Joe, my feet are swollen and I'm the size of a fucking whale,” she says and I instantly recognise her.

  “Golden Pussy, what happened to you?” I ask, she was the girlfriend of the poor sap who was trying to win his girlfriend back. I also vaguely remember asking her to marry me.

  “Eddie. Wow. It's been a while. I’d say time has done you good, but I don’t like to lie.”

  “You got fat,” I laugh. I mean, she’s huge, like almost round.

  “She’s pregnant and I'm sure you didn't come here to insult my fiancé." Dex says walking over.

  “No. I would’ve come to insult you though, looks like you're whipped now.”

  “Something like that,” he laughs. He rubs her belly and talks to her stomach. As I watch, I find myself getting a pang of jealousy in my guts. I shake it off as young Joe asks me what I'm after today.

  “I want my song lyrics tattooed on my ribs with an origami style butterfly, and make the butterfly look like it’s made from sheet music.” I hand the quick sketch I’ve done to Dex, he takes a look and says he’ll be back in a few with a finished design.

  “Nice set up you have over there,” I say, looking at the stage set with instruments.

  “We get lots of musicians and Dex plays a lot. Ruby’s amazing too, but won’t admit it.” Joe fawns over her.

  “Shut up Joe. I’m off to pick up Harlow before she drives Jash mad,” Golden Pussy says.

  “If you ever ditch the hubby and kids, give me a holler,” I say with a wink.

  “Not likely in this lifetime, Casanova,” she says as she waddles out the door. She reminds me of a duck and I smile to myself. Dex walks back out and shows me what he’s drawn up and it's amazing. He takes me down to his station and sets the stencil on my ribs.

  “Go, check it out in the mirror and if it's all good we’ll get started,” he says.

  “It's mad, let's do this.”

  “This might tickle a little bit, ribs are sensitive,” he warns.

  “Pain turns me on,” I say and he gives me a look that says keep your dick to yourself. I get myself in a zone because this shit hurts like a mofo. After about an hour, my phone rings and it's a number I don't know. I usually don't answer them, but it just keeps calling.

  “Hello?” I say cautiously. Maybe a fan has gotten my number again and that never ends well.

  “Where are you?” a female voice says.

  “Where are you?” I reply back.

  “Can we not play games, where are you?”

  “Argh, motherfucker, that hurt.” I wince at the pain shooting through my ribs. The outline was a piece of cake, but the shading hurts like a son of a bitch.

  “Damn it, Eddie,” she says.

  “Who is this?” I ask.

  “It's Callie. I’ve been waiting for you. This won't work if you keep disappearing all the time. If you leave, so should I,” she chastises. After the NA meeting, we went back to the house and I might have forgotten to mention I had an appointment for a tattoo, but I didn’t want her tagging along.

  “Where are you?” I ask her again.

  “At your house, waiting for you.”

  “Well, leave,” I say, trying to piss her off a little more as it seems to be keeping my mind off the pain.

  “Why would I leave?”

  “Why would you stay? You just said, if I leave – you leave, and well, you're still at my house.”

  “I get paid to be here even if you're not, so just get back here,” she snaps.

  “Oh! So, it's all about the money, I mean nothing to you. I feel used like a cheap whore,” I say, trying not to laugh.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she says. I can hear frustration in her voice.

  “What fun would the easy way be?” I laugh before hanging up the phone.

  “Angry girlfriend?” Dex asks.

  “Ha! No… I prefer my pussy fresh, not overused.” He shakes his head at me. “What? It's the truth. Plus, why lock it down with one woman and have kids, and all that shit, when I'm on the road more than I'm home. Pussy just finds me and I have no self-control. I'm weak when they throw themselves at me.”

  “Just a bit cliché – rock star, lots of pussy, drugs, and drinking, but it’ll only get you so far. A good woman and a family is truly all a man needs in this life because, trust me, life is short.”

  “I tried in some ways and failed. Believe me when I say, that future woman and any spawn I could produce are better off without me. Everything turns to shit around me.” Fuck me, who needs a shrink when I can self-analyse my life so far.

  Once Dex is done and sends me on my way, I find myself replaying what he just said about having a family. What type of woman would actually want to have a family with me? I’m all kinds of fucked-up and I shouldn’t subject a child to that.

  I can feel the need to get high physically crawling under my skin. The constant high I’m always on has worn off and this depressive mood is pissing me off. I need a distraction and I need to find one fast. I know I have to do something, because going home and that woman being there will just drive me to drugs, or getting so drunk that I’ll turn to drugs anyway. I have an idea and I make a call to Beth to see what she can do. After all the recent press issues, I honestly don’t know what she’ll say.

  Chapter Eight

  Callie

  I swear, Eddie will be the death of me. I thought we’d made some progress today when he actually agreed to go to an NA meeting, even if he did sit there and sulk the whole time, only to have the asshat sneak out and not tell me where he was going. It took me forever to get hold of him, and when he did answer he was a smart-ass. The one thing I managed to hear was the buzzing sounds of tattoo machines, so after a quick call to Mickki I knew exactly where he’d be getting tattooed. I find Big Moe’s House of Ink on Google maps and make my way there, and as I’m pulling up I see Eddie and Damien getting into his car. I hit his number and he doesn’t answer. I decide to follow him and see where he could be going, and possibly bust him buying drugs. I wanted to give him some credit because I expected him to be at a bar somewhere drowning his sorrows, it’s what I feel like doing sometimes after attending a meeting.

  After driving for fifteen minutes or so, we pull into a hospital. I park far enough away from them so they don’t see me and try to call him, but I’m not surprised when he pulls out his phone, looks at it, then laughs as he puts it back in his pocket. I casually follow behind them, maybe they know I’m there but I don’t care, it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t do anything sketchy. Even though I’m not sure you can do much in a hospital, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s paying off a doctor to write him prescriptions, it’s so something a rock star would do in my mind. They get into a lift and I find myself hiding behind a vending machine, until I wonder why the hell I’m even hiding. I watch as the numbers go up to the fourth floor, then catch the next lift and hit the button to get off on the same floor. It’s a children’s ward and I wander around trying to see where he’s disappeared to. That’s when I see him, sitting in a big chair with children, parents, and nurses surrounding him; he has a boy who looks about four or five sitting on his lap, looking up at him like he’s his idol. He asks the kids
for a song request and they all start calling out, but when he starts singing tears spring from my eyes. Maybe Sasha was right and he really can be a decent human being, weirder things have happened.

  My phone starts to buzz in my pocket and I step around the corner to take the call. It’s my ex-husband, which concerns me. We’re friendly enough, but now that Beau is almost eighteen he really doesn’t call me anymore.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I whisper.

  “Why are you whispering?” he asks.

  “Sorry,” I say, realising I have no need to whisper. “I’m in a hospital.”

  “Is everything okay? You haven’t…”

  “No, I haven’t relapsed or anything like that. It’s a long story, I’m sure Beau will fill you in.”

  “That’s why I’m calling you. I need to talk to you about Beau and wanted to see if you’re free now to meet me at Dr Evan’s.”

  “Sure. I can be there in twenty minutes, if that suits?”

  “Sounds good, he’s with a patient now.”

  I check back in and make sure everything looks okay with Eddie. He’s still singing away to the children, so I shoot Mickki a message and let him know where he is and that I have a family thing I need to do, but will check back in when I’m done. Since Eddie went to a meeting today, and he’s at a hospital, I’m pretty sure my job for the day is over anyway. I can’t keep tabs on him forever.

  Walking into the doctor’s office, I see my ex-husband sitting in the waiting area. He’s still as handsome as he was in high school, his hair is slightly greying now and he has aged a little in the face, but I still get the same butterflies in my stomach when I lay eyes on him. He turns as I approach and gives me a small smile. I've done so much to hurt him over the years that I’m just glad he’s been an amazing father to our child and raised him to be a well-rounded young man. Before I get a chance to say hello, our family doctor, who also happens to be my ex’s best friend, walks into the waiting room. I see his body visually tense up when he notices I’m also present, to say I’d done some terrible things as a teen is an understatement and that includes sleeping with my husband’s best friend. I’d expected Dr Evans or Brad to tell Dane about our affair and break us up, but maybe he knew I was a train wreck and was destroying my marriage all by myself.

 

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