Son of a bitch! This was the security tape from outside his bus. I looked back out onto the stage. He was killing it that night, spot on perfect. The women in the audience were going crazy and, as usual, throwing him their undergarments. I suddenly realized that if the tape I had in my hand proved what I thought it must…I’d have to get used to women throwing themselves at him. I doubted seriously that he would have given me them if they didn’t clear him of my accusations. I sure hoped that was the case. I’d much rather hate Brooke than Tristan. I would have to learn to trust him, though. I tucked the DVD’s into my pocket and watched the end of the show. He had a VIP meet and greet afterwards; some sixteen year old girl who’d won a contest. I watched for a minute while he schmoozed her and her mother with his charms. He was something else, that’s for sure. Shaking my head, I headed out to help clean up.
Tammy and I worked in the singer’s room first. Tammy asked me about Cole, she’d seen him and me at the fair the day before. As we cleaned, I told her what happened with him and about Tristan stalking us. She laughed, and then apologized for laughing. Then, she laughed again. Finally she said, “You told me the other night that you didn’t think he really ever cared about you; don’t you think he must or it wouldn’t have bothered him to see you with Cole?”
“I don’t know. He’s got a big ego. Maybe that’s what’s wounded and not his heart.” I told her. I didn’t like the thought of him being hurt, but after what he’d put me through, I told myself that he probably deserved a little bit of what he was dishing out. Then I patted my pocket where the DVD’s were and wondered how bad I was going to feel about that thought if it turned out he was telling the truth.
After we finished cleaning up, the girls invited me out to get something to eat. I declined, wanting some time alone to watch the tape. Hannah offered to stay back with me, but I encouraged her to go and asked her to bring me some take-out. As soon as everyone left, I stuck it into my laptop and watched. The tape started early that morning so I fast-forwarded until I saw Brooke show up and knock on the bus door. A few minutes later, I saw Tristan answer it in a towel. I couldn’t see his facial expression because the camera was too far away. I saw him let her in though, and then that was it until I showed up. That didn’t prove a damned thing other than what I already knew. She’d gone over in her robe, whether that was to seduce him or not, he should have kicked her out. If this was all there was to it, this wasn’t going to help him at all. I watched it all the way through, though, knowing that he must have had a reason for wanting me to see it. I saw myself go inside and then run out crying and stand there like a fool in the front of the bus. Then a while later, Tristan went out in a pair of pajama bottoms and then came back with security. I finished watching it and I took a lot of pleasure in watching security carry her out kicking and screaming. She looked like a naked maniac. If America could see her then. That part made me happy, but none of it proved anything. Confused, I took it out and popped the next one in. I was surprised at what I saw on that one.
I’ll be damned they didn’t have a camera inside his bus, too! I thought about how he must have felt about that when he found out. I could almost hear him ranting about how the motherfuckers were violating his privacy. I smiled at the thought and went on watching.
I saw Brooke hand him the beer. The camera was closer inside the bus, so I could see the look on his face. He didn’t look like a guy who had been expecting her…or was happy that she was there. I saw him turn around to put the beer on the counter and that was when the stupid, skanky bitch dropped her robe. When he turned back around, his face didn’t look happy at all. He actually looked pissed. He was pointing at the robe and then the door as he talked to her. I didn’t need audio to know he was cussing. Against my better judgment I looked at her body and thought, if he was telling her to get out while she was standing there looking like that…shit, I was so fucking wrong. He was more than just faithful to me, he was ready for sainthood.
He did have a hard on, but I really couldn’t fault him for biology, could I? Hannah had said, it: “He’s a man, after all.” Everything happened fast, then. I think he sat down to hide the tent and again, I couldn’t help but feel proud of him, and guilty as hell for doubting him. Then he pointed at the robe again while he was talking. She bent down...that nasty ho! Her ass was in his face and then the next frame shows her dropping it onto his lap and him trying to push her back while she tried to kiss him and rubbed her tits all over him. I saw red after that as I watched me come and go and then Tristan get dressed while the naked slut just sat there. They had words again before he left. While he was gone, she sat there, smiling. She was really a whack job. I watched security come in with Tristan and I saw him step on her robe. I laughed aloud at that; good job! I reveled in watching security toss her out, kicking and screaming and I suddenly wished that I had pulled the bitch’s extensions out of her head that night. I looked at the clock: it was after midnight. I didn’t give a fuck, I was having this out with her right then even if security ended up having to haul me away.
Brooke shared a bus with Rosa. I found my way across the lot and when I found her bus, I banged on the door. Rosa answered it. Trying to keep my composure I said, “Hi Rosa. I need to talk to Brooke.” From the look on Rosa’s face, I could tell that Brooke must have told her something about that night. She actually looked a little scared and I wondered what my own face must have looked like. She grabbed her jacket and said,
“I’m on my way to go hang out with Ethan. Come on in, she’s in the back.” Rosa left me standing inside the doors of the bus. I looked around and saw that there was a section like the one in Tristan’s bus that partitioned off the sleeping area. That must be where she was. I walked over and beat on that door.
“What?”
“Brooke, it’s Elly. We have some things to talk about.” My voice was shaking.
“Get lost!”
“Brooke,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I suggest you get the fuck out here, now!”
A few seconds later she pulled the door open. She looked pissed. I didn’t care.
“What the hell do you want?”
“I want to tell you what a nasty skank you are. I saw the security tapes of you dropping your robe and trying to force yourself on Tristan. How pathetic are you that you can’t get a guy to fuck you without jumping naked into his lap? You missed your calling, you should be working in one of those places where they give lap dances—then at least you’d get paid for your troubles!”
“I’m the skank? You’re the one who slept with him knowing he was only fucking you to get a good spot on the show.”
“Fuck you! I had nothing to do with him getting a spot on the show and you know it.”
“So you say,” she said. Then she looked me over and said, “I can’t see any other reason he’d want to fuck you. My little brother has bigger tits than you do.”
I had my fists clenched at my sides, but I was still in control…kind of. Unfortunately for Brooke, she didn’t know when to quit,
“I know you saw the boner he had for me the other night. Mmm…it felt good when I was sitting up on it, too, rubbing my pussy back and forth. I felt it growing underneath me. If you hadn’t have come in then, he would have fucked me, and he would have loved it. He’d have never gone back to your old, nasty…”
I stopped her there with a fist to her mouth. I’m not sure who was more surprised: her or me. I’d never raised my fist to anyone in my life, but God, she needed it right then. She stumbled back and fell onto the bed. I was still standing there, wondering if I should go or hit her again, when she touched her bleeding lip and then jumped up and ran towards me like a crazy person, screaming and cussing. I stepped back and she hit the door frame instead of me. I reached out and grabbed that fake blonde hair, confirming once and for all that she did have extensions as I shoved her face into the wall. She reached up and put her hands on my arm, but I had a tight grip on her hair and every time she moved, I pulled a little tighter.<
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“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!”
I tapped her face into the wall. It wasn’t hard enough to do any damage, but just enough so she knew I meant business. “Stay the fuck away from Tristan…and me. Got that, skank?”
“Fuck you!”
I twisted my hand up tighter in her hair and she screamed. I had an arm against the wall in front of us and the little bitch went after it then, with her teeth. I just used it to hit her in the part of her lip that was already bleeding from the punch. She cried out again and said, “You’re going to be sorry.”
“You’re a mouthy bitch, Brooke. I’m sure that gets you into a lot of trouble doesn’t it? Say you heard me and that you’re going to keep your distance, otherwise your pretty face goes back into that wall and these hair extensions come out in chunks. I’m not sure any of that will look too good up on stage.”
“I heard you, bitch!” she said.
“Aw, you were so close,” I said, tapping her face back into the wall. I really felt like I was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care for that name-calling,” I told her as I twisted tighter on her hair underneath.
“Stop! I heard you, okay? I’ll stay away from him.” Using her hair, I turned her to face the bed and threw her down on it. I started to leave and she started to come after me again. I shoved her back down and said,
“Are you really that stupid? You haven’t got your ass kicked enough for one day? Come at me again and I swear you’ll need plastic surgery on that pretty face when I’m done with it.”
She sat there this time and without turning my back to her, I left. She had a fat lip and tears in her eyes. I had a strange sense of self-satisfaction and I wondered what I was turning into.
Chapter Ten
Tristan
I went back to the bus after the show to wait. I was pretty sure I’d be hearing from Elly that night. I took a shower to get all the sweat and grime from the stage off of me and then I sat down on the bed and did something I hadn’t done in literally years: I called my grandfather. After four rings, I thought he wasn’t going to pick up. When he did, I found myself shocked at how old and feeble he sounded. He still sounded like an old cowboy to me.
“Yello?”
“Hi Grandpa, it’s Tristan.”
“What did you say?”
Raising my voice I said, “It’s Tristan, Grandpa. Your grandson.”
“I know my own grandson’s name. I’m not senile!”
I laughed and said, “I haven’t called for so long I thought you might have forgotten me.”
“Nah, I still cuss you at least once a day. Where the hell are you, boy?”
“I’m in New Mexico right now. I’m on tour.”
“You won that singing contest, on television.” It wasn’t a question. He knew…shit.
“Yeah, I did.”
“You always did have talent. I told your mama that when you were only three years old.” There was a heavy silence then and he said, “Sometimes I regret that…I blame myself for the way things turned out…”
“Don’t blame yourself, Grandpa. You raised her right. She didn’t go off the deep end until she was in her thirties—way past the point you could be held responsible.”
He chuckled that deep, Grandpa laugh I remembered. “What about you, boy? You still messing with that stuff?”
“I’ve been sober for a little over a hundred days now. I’m working hard to make this all pay off. I don’t want to live that life anymore.”
“Good….that’s good. I’d sure like to see you again one of these days. You’re my only grandchild, you know.”
“I know, Grandpa. I’m sorry. We’re leaving New Mexico day after tomorrow and we’ll be headed to Dallas. I should have time while I’m there to come see you, if that would be okay?”
“I just said I wanted to see you, didn’t I? Hell boy, maybe you’re the one who’s senile.” I laughed again. I’d forgotten how funny he was. I’d forgotten a lot of things about my former life, before my whole family went to shit.
“You did say that. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
“Ayait!” he said.
“Ayait!” I yelled back. I hung up with a smile. He was the only family I really had left and for some reason, I’d been craving a connection with someone. Maybe if I could work up the nerve to ask her, Elly would go with me to see him.
I hung up with my grandfather and waited some more. I was almost ready to go find her. I started wondering if maybe she wasn’t coming. Maybe she’d stepped on the DVD and hadn’t even watched it. Maybe she only watched the first one. I should have just given her the one that showed the inside of the bus.
I took out my guitar and strummed it, killing time and trying to alleviate a little anxiety. Before I knew it, I was singing the song I wrote for her. I was on my second time through it when I got her text message. I smiled when I read it:
Can we talk?
Yeah. Gimme fifteen minutes and then come on over.
I turned off all the lights and got undressed. Then I used the string of lights that usually hung outside my door to wrap my body up in. I stood in the doorframe of the bedroom and covered my already growing cock up with the guitar. I had to smile at the picture I must be painting on the camera still pointed at me.
Chapter Eleven
Elly
After kicking Brooke’s ass, I had such a shot of adrenaline that my entire body was shaking. It felt good though; I was thinking about a career change. I could be a fucking enforcer or something. I wanted to tell someone how awesome I was. I laughed at myself and took out my phone. I text Tristan and when he text back that I could come over in fifteen minutes the adrenaline all seemed to drain down into my belly and make me feel sick. I wanted to see him, no doubt. I wanted to do more than see him. I wanted to touch him. Even though I was still angry, watching him out on that stage that night was enough for me to throw my own bra out there. He had a power over me even when he was being an asshole. My anxiety was coming from the fact that I had accused him of being unfaithful. I’d refused to listen to him when he tried to explain. I called him a liar and a cheat, basically, and then I got really mean and told him he never took me out to dinner or something stupid like that. What if he was just letting me come over so that after I groveled, he could refuse to forgive me?
I walked slowly to his bus, passing the security guys that had dragged Brooke out of his bus that night on my way. Brad, the bigger guy and I were on a first-name basis. I liked him, but I was embarrassed about how much he knew about that night. If he watched those tapes, he saw me come out sobbing and stand there in the rain sobbing like an idiot. I wasn’t as bad as Tristan about my personal business, but there were some things that I just thought should stay between two people.
“Hi Elly! How are you tonight?” he asked me.
“I’m doing well, Brad. How are you?”
“I’m just fine,” he said. “Elly, can I say something that might be a little…personal?”
Shit! Not him, too! Brad was old enough to be my father. I really hoped that he wasn’t going to hit on me too.
“Um…yeah, I suppose,” I said.
“I’m sure you know this, but I just wanted to tell you that Tristan cares a lot about you. I’m guessing he’s the kind of guy who has a hard time showing it.”
I had to smile at this linebacker looking guy trying to get me to forgive Tristan. He must have been a romantic at heart. “Thanks, Brad, that means a lot.” I told him. I was getting too arrogant or maybe just paranoid or something. I was suddenly thinking that every man who spoke to me was hitting on me.
Brad smiled and wished me a good night and I headed on to Tristan’s bus. It didn’t look like there were any lights on and I thought that was weird, but I went inside anyways. It was definitely dark inside, but I could see the shadow of something, or someone, at the end of the long walkway. It was Tristan, wrapped in lights and wearing nothing else other than his guitar. The man was insane. I loved it.
“Hey,” I said with a smile.
“Hey,” he said back, grinning.
“You look…radiant,” I said.
He laughed and said, “That was terrible. Sit down.”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
I sat and then I started to open my mouth again. He shushed me and put his guitar up around his neck, exposing his entire naked body. I felt moisture rush out between my legs.
“I want to play a song for you,” he said. I smiled and nodded and he started playing the guitar; it was a really pretty tune. Then he started singing and I swear to god that my insides began to melt. He was singing a song about standing in the rain, missing his girl. He said he wanted to hold her, love her. He said that he didn’t want to lose her because he was lost without her. I could feel the hot sting of tears burning the backs of my eyes. He was singing a song he’d written for me, and it was beautiful. I couldn’t believe this was the same guy that had thrown me out of his apartment the first night after we’d had sex. In a million years I would have never thought he’d do something as romantic as writing a song for me.
When he finished singing I had tears running down my cheeks as I clapped for him. He smiled and came over towards me. He leaned the guitar up against the chair and I stood up. I put my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He hugged me back and just held me for a few minutes. I finally felt like everything was going to be okay.
“Thank you,” I told him. “That was beautiful.”
He smiled and said, “Thank you for the inspiration.”
I laughed then and said, “I exude inspiration.”
“You’re being facetious,” he said.
“Facetious?”
“Yeah, you know…kind of sarcastic….”
“I know what it means. It just doesn’t sound like a Tristan word.”
He looked hurt and said, “I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Oh no, I don’t think you’re stupid. You just usually don’t….shit! I’m sorry.”
Dirty Maverick (The Maxwell Family) Page 106