Reflex

by Madelynne Ellis

  Luthor vacated the sun lounger, leaving a space before Xane, which he patted, indicating she should sit and he’d do the honours.

  “Anywhere in particular?” he asked, tongue pushed into the side of his cheek.

  “Yeah, my nose.” She wrinkled that appendage when he immediately blobbed a spot of cream onto it.

  “Arms, shoulders? Pretty much anywhere the sun’s reaching?”

  She nodded, and held out her arm providing him with a place to start.

  Xane squeezed cream onto his fingers, and started on her upper arm, working downwards.

  “So how’s it going between you two? I noticed some hand holding in public, and is that a hickie on his neck?”

  Alle turned her head cautiously. The rest of the guys were still in the water, with the exception of Luthor, who having been liberally coated in sun cream, was now covering his impressively sculpted torso with a loose T-shirt. “It’s good,” she replied cagily. “But I think you’re mistaken about the bite.”

  “Hm, must be residual damage from the fuckwit the other night.”

  “He’s having nightmares,” Alle blurted, then slammed both hands over her mouth.

  Xane reached for her hand again, and tugged it away from her lips. His grey eyes, silvered with sunlight, burned with sudden intensity. “How bad?”

  “Horrific. At least, that’s how they sound. I don’t know what they’re about, he won’t tell me.”

  “Him having bad dreams isn’t a major surprise, considering what happened,” Luthor remarked, returning to their sides. He passed Xane a glass of sangria and took a sideways facing perch on the second sun lounger. “He was assaulted.”

  Xane turned his wary gaze on his lover as if he meant to silence him.

  “I know,” Alle said. “He’s explained what happened.” Not in explicit detail, but enough so that she agreed with Luthor, that nightmares were hardly an unexpected symptom.

  “You don’t think that’s necessarily the cause though, do you?” Xane remarked.

  Alle chewed her inner cheek, perturbed that Xane had so accurately pinpointed her fear. “I don’t know.” She took a large gulp of her drink. “Maybe that’s what it is, but he’s so cagey about lots of things, I’m not certain. I wonder if I’m not as much the cause. I know I’m pushing him out of his comfort zone—”

  “He needs pushing.”

  “Seriously?” Luthor interrupted. “Surely now is the time for kid gloves, not beating him around the head with the sexy stick.” His focus shifted in her direction. “Look, I get that you’re into him, but the timing sucks.”

  That was her. The queen of bad timing.

  “Pressure’s not what he needs. He requires security, friends he can trust and rely on. Someone to talk to when he’s ready to pour his heart out.”

  “I’m trying to be that.”

  Given the way Luthor swayed his head, so that his sun-bleached hair flopped over his eyes, she wasn’t so certain he agreed.

  “I need some shade for a bit,” he declared.

  After he’d left, Xane laced his fingers before him and put his thumbs to his lips. “Forgive him. He still doesn’t know Spook very well. Luthor has some idea that because they share a common language, he’s a better idea of the inner workings of Spook’s mind. Whereas I think common experience tops that. Spook’s complicated. Maybe counselling would do him some good, but nobody will ever get him through that door, so why focus energy on the unachievable. I’d rather look at alternatives. Figure out what’s going to work for him.”

  “You think him engaging in a relationship will help.”

  “I know it’ll help. The boy’s frustrated.” He leaned forward. “Alle, he’s convinced himself that if he has the sort of relationship he wants the world will fall apart. You need to convince him otherwise.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  He nodded. “I know. He needs somebody like you. Someone who’ll stick by him and prove to him that…” He shrugged. “Know what, never mind. I’ve seen him smiling today, that’s a good thing. He seems relaxed.”

  She chuckled. “He’s okay as long as I don’t sneak up on him. But, I’m not going to let him run away this time.”

  “Good. Turn around. I’ll do your back.”

  His hands were warm and smooth, his touch gentle. When his thumbs worked into the knots she hadn’t realised were there in her shoulders, Alle groaned. “God, it’s a good job your boy- and girl-friend aren’t here, they’d be wondering what the heck we’re up to.”

  Xane chuckled along with her, but eased up on the massage. “Luthor’s not so possessive. Dani, on the other hand…” He tilted his head to one side.

  Alle lifted off the lounger and turned around. She sat in the space Luthor had earlier occupied on the second sun lounger. “How come she’s not here?”

  “She’s not much for swimming. Or anything that involves showing off skin. Besides, she and Ginny are dress shopping again.”

  “For a wedding dress?” Spook had mentioned that he’d been co-opted as best man.

  “Apparently. Though, fuck knows why it’s taking so long. It’s all they’ve done for weeks. Women and their frocks.” He rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Ash gave a damn, but he wouldn’t care if she showed up in a paper bag. Soppy romantic that he is, he just wants to give her his name, see his ring on her finger, and fuck like rabbits on their honeymoon.” He raised his voice. “Although, unless he gets on with it, that ain’t happening any time soon.” He dropped back to a normal speech volume. “We’ve the rest of this week off and next, then the festival season starts up. After that, we’ve the album launch and dates in North and South America. There’s not much space for a wedding in the schedule.”

  “Sounds busy,” she said, subdued by the thought of Spook being constantly on the road again. How would they maintain a relationship if he was never in one place for more than a few days? It wasn’t as if she had the sort of job that would allow her to fly out to wherever he was at a moment’s notice. Nor was she about to throw away her hard-won career to go on the road with him.

  On the other hand, pinning him down seemed to be the only way to make any inroad into his heart.

  The thought of them being apart, and him hitting reset on their relationship again, made her insides churn. They’d made progress, but he was like a skittish pony, prone to being spooked by the tiniest thing.

  “You do call him Spook because he’s quiet, right?” she asked.

  Xane gave her what she could only think of as a penetrating glance. Slowly, he rotated the piercing through his lip. “It’s one reason.”

  “Who else has he run away from?”

  Xane put the cap back on the sun cream bottle, and deposited it on the deck. Then he splayed his hand across the lower half of his face, and contemplatively drew his fingers downwards until they met on the point of his chin. “It’s more of a what than an it. And it’s not the sort of thing you can outrun. At some point you have to make peace with yourself.”

  “So he’s running from himself.”

  “To some extent. It’s complicated, but I think you knew that. If it was simple, then you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. But we were talking about Ash, who swears he and Ginny are having a Danger Mouse themed wedding, so it’s beyond any of us how a big dress even fits into that. If she’s Penfold, shouldn’t she be sporting a suit?”

  “Ginny could totally carry off a Dietrich-style top hat and tails look,” Rock Giant remarked, startling Alle enough with his sudden appearance to make her jump. He sprawled behind her full length on the sun lounger, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny speedos, his numerous tats glistening with sea spray.

  “Absolutely, she could,” Xane agreed. “But I don’t think that’s the actual plan.”

  Alle squinted at Xane. His demeanour appeared relaxed, but there was a strain of falseness to it. She glanced between him and Rock Giant. Had Xane deliberately changed the topic of their conversation back to Ash to avo
id Rock Giant overhearing them talking about Spook? If so, why? Surely the rest of the band was aware of Spook’s history?

  Her spine spasmed, making her jolt, as the lightning bolt realisation hit her that that wasn’t the case.

  “When even is this wedding?” Rock Giant drawled, further spreading himself across the sun lounger, so that she was forced onto the very edge of it if she didn’t want to be pressed up against a shit ton of hot, wet, glistening, tattooed muscle.

  Xane stood, waving her into his vacated seat, while he leaned over the railings. “Yo, Danger Mouse,” he hollered. “When are you getting hitched?”

  He received a two fingered salute in response from Ash. He and Spook were chatting a short distance from the boat. Ronnie had begun climbing the ladder. Alle looked around at them and got jitters inside. How could this group of people not know one another inside out? They’d been a band forever, lived in one another’s pockets. Surely they ought to know everything about one another. What was so bad that Spook felt it necessary to keep it hidden even from his closest friends? Nay, his family? And why hadn’t Xane told the rest of them either?

  Rock Giant raised his arms above his head. His arms were covered in two full sleeves worth of tats, likewise both legs from mid-thigh to hip, as well as two bands of ink, one across the top of his pecs and another just above the top of his speedos. “Xane, about tonight,” he said. “I’m gonna sit it out. It’s not really my scene. I can’t abide all that nonsense. Who the fuck wants to don a penguin suit when the sun’s out? Ronnie and I can rock up to the screening at Mace Beach instead. That’s way more my scene.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Screening?” Alle enquired, joining Xane by the railings. She wanted to ask him something, she just wasn’t sure what it was.

  “The film festival is on at the minute.”

  “Cannes?”

  He inclined his head, which brushed the ends of his long hair over the back of her hand.

  “Listen, I’ve some badges for the Lumière showing tonight. Is that something you might be interested in? It’ll mean evening dress and being photographed. The parade up the red carpet and getting snapped on the steps is part of the agreement for getting the passes.”

  “You mean appear there with you and Spook?”

  “And Luthor and Dani.”

  “I didn’t pack an evening dress.”

  Xane brushed the remark aside as if it was no big deal. “I can have some things sent to the hotel for you. That’s not an issue. What is, is whether you think it’s too soon for you to be seen together. It’s new between you. Fragile,” he ventured. “There will be questions. And journalists aren’t coy. It never crosses their minds to be tactful, and a lot of them are just downright offensive.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes, I see. I think I probably need to speak to Spook about it.”

  He nodded. “Do that.”

  He turned away, but Alle touched his shoulder. Xane turned his head towards her.

  “Spook told me about you. About what happened between you in the past.”

  Xane turned more fully, so that they were facing. Sharp grey eyes scrutinized her as if he could read her doubts and confusion off her skin. Then all of a sudden, his expression relaxed into a smile.

  “Did he now? A highly abridged version, I imagine.”

  Why did the way he said that put doubt in her mind?

  “That was a very long time ago. It’s not something you need to be concerned about, Alle. I confess, I’m surprised he even mentioned it.”

  “You were his last.”

  That revelation seemed to startle him. Leastways, he swayed a little, before seeming to catch his balance. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  There was still a flare of something in those expressive silver-grey eyes.

  “Then I guess it must be true.”

  There he went seeding doubt again.

  “There’ve been hundreds since on my part. I can barely remember…” He shook his head, making his long hair swish. “Let me know your answer as soon as you’ve reached a decision about tonight.” He walked away, leaving Alle with the distinct impression that there was something, a nuance within his words that ought to clue her into something. What that might be, she had no idea.

  “Hey, you okay?” Ronnie asked, sliding into the space that Xane had just vacated. They’d barely had a chance to speak to one another since the gig. “It’s all going better than expected, yeah?”

  Alle gave his spindly wet form an up and down glance, then nodded. “I guess so.”

  She about turned and focussed on Rock Giant stretched out so that his impressive six foot six frame overhung the end of the lounger. He could have been a merman with his muscles and his decorative ink, and his multi-coloured hair in shades of purple and green. Wet and hence un-spiked, it flopped over to one side in a long asymmetrical wave.

  “Paul?” she said hesitantly, trying out his name. It felt way too weird. Nevertheless, he cocked a brow.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I just wondered.” She pushed away from the railings. “How many festivals are you playing this summer?”

  He shrugged, lifting his thickly muscled shoulders. Beside him, Ronnie looked like a string bean. “Five or six, I think, kicking off with our very own cruise.”

  “A cruise?” Ronnie’s eyes were alight like someone had just proposed moving Christmas to July.

  “Yeah, first time we’ve done one. Southampton to Sweden, a festival there, and then the return journey.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  Alle poked Ronnie in the back. Honestly, he sounded like a kid in a sweet shop. Unsurprisingly, there were sweets in his hands right now. More strawberry laces that he loved to twine around his fingers and then suck up like spaghetti.

  “What?” he glared at her, before returning his attention to Rock Giant. “I’ve heard of bands doing metal cruises, but how cool is it that you’re doing a purely Black Halo cruise. That’s mint, that is. When is it?”

  “You angling for an invite, kiddo?”

  “Damn right.”

  It was right after their break ended. How was it that she hadn’t even been aware of it? She followed the Black Halo news sites. Actually, she hadn’t checked in on those in some time. It hadn’t felt necessary when she had a hotline right to the source. Depressingly, it dawned on her how little of his plans Spook actually shared. Chances were, he hadn’t mentioned the cruise for the same reason he hadn’t mentioned that he had a two-week gap in his calendar until yesterday, because she might propose spending time together.

  “What’s up? Are you feeling sea sick?” Ronnie asked her. Clearly, her emotions were showing all too clearly on her face.

  “No. I’m fine. Isn’t that the week your first single off the new album is set to release?”

  “Hmm,” he agreed. “That sounds like a great reason to be anywhere but home. Don’t want to be one of those sad dudes sat refreshing the various download sites every thirty seconds praying for sales. It’s probably going to sink into oblivion.”

  He was never normally this pessimistic. She wasn’t sure she believed him now.

  “You’re releasing that week? Congrats, man.” Rock Giant raised a hand for Ronnie to slap. A moment later his hazel eyes crinkled as he squinted upwards into the sun in order to peer at Ronnie. “What’s your actual genre? I swear if you say girly pop, I’m gonna hurt you, and our friendship ends.”

  “Indie,” Ronnie tentatively proposed.

  Rock Giant made a rumbling noise, like the growl of an engine, or a bank of thunder. He sat up. “Like bloody Willows, you mean. Urhhh.”

  “Except, he’s good,” Alle leapt to Ronnie’s defence. He was. She knew talent when she saw it. Ronnie was perfectly capable of taking the world by storm. All he needed was a bit of luck. “Don’t believe this crash and burn shit he’s spouting. The buying public are gonna lap him up.”

  He was beaming at her. When he saw she was looking a
t him, she blew him a kiss. Rock Giant regarded her rather more sceptically, but at least his grouching had ceased.

  “I’ve a couple of tracks on my phone if you don’t think they’ll make your ears bleed,” Ronnie admitted.

  The big guy nodded. “Go on, then. I’ll risk my sanity. Dish it up.”

  -26-

  As predicted, Ash took off the moment they docked in Cannes. Rock Giant and Ronnie vanished not long after on a hot date— “It’s a trip, Alle.”—to Mace Beach. “All the celebrities will be there. Well, not quite all of them.”

  “Are you ready for this?” Spook asked, offering her his arm as they exited the limousine. “It’ll be mental.”

  “I know,” she agreed. Although, apparently, she didn’t. It was good that the route was all lined out in red, with crash barriers on either side, because the lights and calls of the press, along with the announcements being blasted over the Tannoy and the background blare of decades old popular music made for a disorientating sensory explosion. And, God help anyone who didn’t like crowds. “You said mental, not hell.”

  “Just walk, and pose if you have to.”

  Obviously, she’d seen the spectacle that was the Cannes Film Festival in various news reports and magazines, but Alle had never paid it any attention. To suddenly be thrust into the middle of a catwalk was daunting.

  Petrifying.

  Why the hell did anyone do this out of choice?

  At least she was dressed appropriately.

  As promised, Xane had delivered suitable evening attire. More impressively, he’d got her size right without asking, and sent a matching handbag, shoes and jewellery.

  “If he wasn’t a musician, he’d be working for Vogue,” Spook had offered up as a sort of explanation for his friend’s skills and thoughtfulness. “Xane loves costumes and clothes. And glitzy glamour. I’m not saying that most of the time he isn’t a T-shirt and jeans guy, or that he doesn’t enjoy the carnival of the macabre, but there’s a reason one of his homes is in Monaco.”