Be Your Savior: The Be Yours Trilogy #2

by Fox, Lizzie

  I didn’t regret it one bit though. Adam was not a good guy, and regardless if Jessalie was an alcoholic or not—and clearly she was not—she didn’t deserve the crap he did to her.

  Sometimes I found myself thinking what Blake would think if he knew me. Would he approve? Would he have punched Adam out—setting aside the fact that more than likely if Blake had stayed in the picture, Adam never would have happened. From what Jessie told me, it sure sounded like he would have. The thought gave me a lot of self-satisfaction. Actually, it was that thought—and the thought that I’d be going home to someone I loved immensely—that got me through the night. It was a little disappointing I ruined my night at the iconic First Avenue. At least the performance went well, so there was that.

  By the time Jessie and I woke up later that day and decided to go home, it was pretty clear I was out of it, and I let Jessie drive. Jessie had a little container I put spares of my medication in, but I had taken a couple of them the other day and forgot to replace them; I was starting to feel a little off without them. My mind was so sensitive to them that just a few hours of not taking them was enough to make me feel a bit edgy.

  When we officially arrived home, Jessie made sure I took my meds. Then, she took the shower she refused to at Wes’, and I don’t know how long she was in there before she emerged. I was long passed out.

  “Sonofabitch…”

  My eyes struggled to open, and I heard the sound of quiet swearing from nearby. I rolled over, realizing that I was alone in bed. Jessie swore a bit louder, and I realized she was sitting in the window seat nearby with her laptop open. She was poised over it, wearing her glasses and her hair piled on top of her head. She was glaring at the screen, hitting a button furiously and sitting back against the wall, scowling and pouting.

  I bit back my laugh; she was so cute when she was irritated—as long as she wasn’t irritated at me, that was. I peeled off the covers and padded over to her, running my hands through my unruly hair to get it out of my face. “What’s wrong, Jessie-love?”

  “Shit!” She snapped the laptop shut quickly and looked up at me with wide eyes. “Sorry—I wasn’t expecting you to wake up any time soon.” She giggled uncomfortably as I cocked a brow.

  “Why not? What time is it?” I slid my arms around her shoulders and allowed her to rest against my chest as I peered out the window. It was overcast but still fairly light, so I couldn’t have been out too long.

  “It’s after seven,” she replied, clutching one of my forearms with her hands. “I figured you were out for the night.”

  “It is? God…” I groaned, staving off a yawn. My mind still felt a little hefty and foggy, almost like I hadn’t slept at all when really, it’d been hours. “What have you been doing all this time?”

  Her upper lip curled into a gentle snarl. “Trying to write but everything comes out like shit. I don’t know what it is; I’m pretty sure I just lost the writing mojo for good,” she said, with a loud sigh.

  “I don’t believe that. Those poems we turned into songs were so damned good,” I insisted. “That one—‘Some Other Time’ is one of our biggest downloads right now.”

  She cocked her head, considering my words. “Yeah… I guess. I’m glad I can help. Even better that you’re not getting all butthurt over it, either,” she said, with an impish grin at me and I winced sheepishly.

  “Jessie-love, that had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me,” I reminded her, leaning in, hoping to placate her with a kiss on her temple. It seemed to work, because she shifted until she totally sank into me. My chest tightened slightly, feeling just a little emotional. She put up with so much of my crap, and never once truly made me feel badly about it. She was just—there. Unwavering. Unquestioning. Without a doubt she was the best thing that ever happened to me.

  And I knew right then that I would do absolutely anything to keep her here—as long as she wanted to be here of course—and make her happy. If that meant not working with Miles Madison, punching out her ex again, or if that meant letting her write all the songs for the band forever, or having ten frickin’ kids.

  “Be that as it may, I’m going to have to get a damn job if I can’t come up with anything,” she said with a quiet rumble. “The car and house are totally paid off, but I can’t live off my former royalties forever.”

  “I never asked, but why didn’t you take—what is it called?—alimony? From your douche of an ex?” I asked, and she shook her head.

  “I should have pushed for it, maybe, but I just wanted to be rid of him. That would have dragged things out for months, and I just didn’t have it in me to do it.”

  I laughed dryly. “Yeah, I probably would have done the same. But…you really don’t have to get a job unless you want to, honey.” I moved to sit at her feet on the window seat like I so often did, moving her computer aside so I had room. She hugged her knees up to her chest, and I sat cross-legged, leaning on her knees. “The royalties alone from the upcoming stuff with Miles?” I let out a low whistle. “Not to mention he’s paying quite a bit just for an appearance. It is a nice chunk of change. We really don’t have to worry for a while.”

  She grinned slowly. “‘We don’t have to worry...’ You know I really like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I do. Just… I don’t know.”

  “Maybe write some more stuff for the band. Or maybe,” I said, smirking, “you could finally just agree to be a background singer.”

  She laughed sharply. “Yeah, ah…no. That’s a bad idea,” she dismissed that idea quick. “But…” She reached for her laptop and opened the screen again, handing it to me. “I did write this. And there’s another one behind it.”

  “‘Shadows and Light’…” I read off the title out loud and continued reading silently, becoming more amazed with her talent with every word. “Damn, Jess. This is really, really good. The guys will love this.” I beamed at her over the top of the laptop, and she blushed mildly.

  “It’s not that good…”

  “No, it is. And it’ll work a bit louder too, I think. Can I send this to Ian?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “Sure, if you think it’ll work,” she said with nonchalance.

  “I definitely think so. This one is also really damn good,” I said, reading over the other song that didn’t yet have a title.

  “Well… just glad I can help…” she said quietly.

  “It’s a huge help. And letting us use the house, too whenever. And you know,” I said, wiggling my eyebrow, “letting me get in your pants pretty much whenever I want.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed. “That doesn’t help the band though.”

  “Oh, it does. I’m less moody, and the guys will tell you a less moody Seth is a better Seth to have around,” I said with a snort, and Jessie rolled her eyes. “Can you email me those or send them to my phone?”

  She nodded once, typing on the laptop quickly before shutting it. “Done.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as I slid off the seat. Before I went for my phone to send them to Ian, I leaned over her, brushing my fingers over the apple of her cheek and seeking her lips for a gentle kiss. I pulled away the second she began to moan, my dick standing at attention.

  “Awww,” she protested when I stepped away.

  “Let me send these to Ian and like…brush my teeth.” I grimaced, realizing my mouth still felt fuzzy from sleeping too long. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and groaned. “Fuck. Thirty messages?” I gave Jessie a look of dread. “Did you get a bunch from Shane?”

  “Not sure. My phone was on fire all night and it died, so I turned it off and threw it on the charger,” she said with a shrug.

  “Ugh. Probably the guys grilling me about being in the slammer. Great.” I sat on the edge of the bed, opening my text messages and skipped to the latest one.

  Ian: Dude. Fucking look at this. There was a link I clicked on and immediately, I groaned at what I saw.

  “Oh
, fucking son of a bitch!” I exclaimed angrily, reading an article that was posted on Oblivion Orange Zero’s social media page.

  “What?” Jessie demanded, joining me on the bed and peering over my arm, her eyes widening when she saw the story.

  “Son of a bitch…”

  I began to read out loud:

  “Oblivion Orange Zero’s Miles Madison has questionable taste in colleagues…

  Seth Archer, 26, of the trendy Indie rock band Night Addiction from Wisconsin is rumored to be working with Madison on several upcoming projects including his own solo album. Archer was arrested last night after an accusation of assault and battery following the band's first ever performance at the iconic First Avenue in Minneapolis. Several witnesses claim the lead singer was belligerent and audibly volatile during a confrontation with an unnamed victim, resulting in the victim at the receiving end of shouting and a broken nose. Archer spent much of the night in the Minneapolis Police Department until his fiancée, Jessalie Reynolds, 33, posted bail early the next morning. No word yet on if the victim intends to press charges.

  “We don’t know the whole story,” Madison said on a Chirper exchange with me when asked of the situation. “I’d like to put off passing judgment until I get the entire story from Archer. Regardless, his talent is immeasurable, and as of now I still look forward to working with him on my upcoming album and seeing the band perform at the Florida Regional Rock Fest.”

  Archer has no previous criminal record, but a long-standing history of mental illness including several suicide and self-harm incidents have been reported. No one from Archer’s band, Archer himself, or Reynolds were available for comment at this time.”

  And of course, under the article was a photo of Miles on the stage during the Grammy’s… as well as my mugshot from last night. I slapped my hand over my face and let out a long string of swear words. “Fuck—oh fuck! This is not good! Miles is not going to work with me after this!”

  “Hey,” Jessie began to protest, prying my hands off my face and clutching them in hers as she looked to me with earnest. “You read that statement; he’s not going to do anything until he talks to you first. Unless he was lying, but there’s no reason to believe he is.”

  “Yeah…how did he find out about it even?” My fists clenched at my sides, open and closing as I tried to breathe calmly through the rage I was beginning to feel. She was probably right, but…

  She rose a brow. “Adam. Guarantee he called in an anonymous tip somewhere. I told you. He’s a total dick.”

  “Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed in frustration, balling up my fist and really, really wanting to punch something. Hard.

  “Seth. You know what they say—there’s no such thing as bad publicity, right? It’ll just make people interested in the album,” she said with a hopeful grin. “Once everyone learns why you did it—I don’t think anyone would blame you one bit.”

  I considered this. “Yeah…”

  She patted my arm encouragingly. “Call Shane. Or Sabrina. I think you should just make an open statement about it before it goes any further and people start making shit up. In fact…” She crawled over the bed for her own cell phone, unplugged it from the charger and turned it on. “Actually…Shane already said that was a good idea. Grab my laptop and do it.”

  Grumbling low, I nodded in begrudging agreement, retrieving her laptop and joining her on the bed. I snorted as I looked down at myself; well into the evening and I was still in my underwear. Yep, I was officially a mess. Though Jessie wasn’t much better; she wore a pair of black shorts and one of my t-shirts with no bra. I swallowed, hoping to ignore the way her breasts poked out of the thin fabric. She noticed anyway and shot me a flirty smile.

  “Stop, you.” Chuckling, she pushed my gaze away with a light finger on my jaw.

  “I did nothing,” I claimed innocently, laughing under my breath.

  She pointed at the screen. “Write the thing.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Ooh, I like that!” She said with a grin, brushing her fingers over the top of my thigh tauntingly. I jokingly slapped her hand away.

  “I can’t write this if I’m rocking a damn boner so just…hold off a minute.” Whoops, too late! Jessie leaned back against the pillow, enjoying watching me shift uncomfortably.

  I logged into the band’s Facegram page and scowled at all the comments. Good or bad, I didn’t know—Shane or Sabrina was going to have to deal with that later. I wasn’t touching them.

  After about ten minutes I had what I hoped was a heartfelt, to-the-point message to the fans of the page that would probably go viral and handed it off to Jessie for her to read.

  “To the fans of Night Addiction,

  Apparently a story has been released that I’d gotten arrested for an altercation I had with someone after our successful performance last night at First Avenue.

  First, this wasn’t some random person. He is my fiancée's ex-husband, and they had a bit of a rough history together. She ran into him earlier in the night where he said some things to her that clearly hurt her feelings. Of course, I’m a little bit protective of my family, so I was already a bit on edge.

  When I ran into him alone later that night, he introduced himself to me and proceeded to bait me with some absolutely disparaging, crude comments about his ex-wife—my future wife—and yes, I lost my temper. Yes, I punched him in the face, but I hit him in the cheek, not the nose as the article floating around with the quote from Miles Madison would suggest. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, and I’m sorry for anyone negatively affected by this, but I don’t regret it.

  I was, in fact, arrested and treated very well by the MPD, but it was little more than formality by that point. It took a while to be processed—busy night in Minneapolis apparently—but Jessie was there to post bail right away, and that was the end of it.

  I don’t usually condone using violence, but this man was nothing less than a bully that night and had been to my fiancée for years before they split. I don’t want to share her private business, but he was not kind and I felt warranted in my actions.

  Secondly, as to the reports of my “mental illness”. Well, they are true. I have bipolar 1, an anxiety disorder, and PTSD –the PTSD is leftover from an abusive childhood. I did resort to self-harm in the past, but I’ve put it behind me. I am under a doctor’s care, have been given the proper medications, and basically lead a normal life, other than the fact I may not be able to ever be without the medications, which is no different than having diabetes or something of the like. My actions were not a result of my conditions; they were because he was a jerk and a bully who treated a woman I love and care about very badly. That is all it was.

  In general, the reports around the internet are exaggerated, and I’m putting it behind me. We’ll continue to make music like always; this changes nothing.

  Thank you for all the support you’ve given me,

  Seth Archer, lead vocalist of Night Addiction”

  “What do you think?” I asked as she looked up at me when she was done. “Does it work?”

  Her expression softened, and she leaned in to give me a tender kiss on the lips. “It’s very sweet, baby. Yeah, I think it works.”

  “Good,” I said with a smile, taking it back and hitting the “post now” button. I closed the laptop and set it on the nightstand. “That’s done.”

  “How are you feeling?” Jessie questioned as I proceeded to stretch out my arms and let out a tense yawn.

  “Just…worn out I guess,” I replied, grinning wryly when my stomach let out a loud growl. “I guess I know why.”

  “Yeah, been a whole like, seven hours since you’ve eaten last. I’m surprised you’re still alive,” Jessie quipped, half crawling over me, her peaked breasts under my shirt rubbing against my chest as she kissed me.

  I groaned, both because I was so turned on and because I reminded by the hollow feeling in my stomach that I was hungry. Letting out a pathetic little whimper, I turned
away with a pout. “I’m sorry, honey I really need to eat before we do anything.”

  She chuckled warmly. “Yeah, I know. I just wanted to taunt you a little.” Grinning playfully, she ran the tip of her finger along the length of my nose which from anyone else it’d be annoying, but her?—it was endearing and cute as hell—and she headed for the door. “You want to get pizza?”

  I nodded vigorously, pizza suddenly sounding like the best idea ever. “Definitely.”

  “Sounds good.” She paused in the doorframe before I could leave, placing her hands over my hips and gazing up at me. “I really do love you, you know?”

  My heart skipped a beat at her declaration. Even though it was nothing new, I still never tired of hearing it. I tightened my arms around her and held her against me. “I know. I love you too. Always will. No matter what.”

  14

  Jessalie

  The next few days were a bit slow. After the weekend, Seth was considerably flustered because of the mess with Adam and the impending realization that next week we’d be in Milwaukee, meeting up with Miles Madison. Hopefully anyway, he still hadn’t heard from Miles over the viral story about him, but no news was probably good news in that instance.

  And the following weekend was the Florida festival…and the wedding. I couldn’t believe how fast it had crept up on us. I still didn’t have my dress yet, and Shane was constantly on Seth’s ass about finding something to wear, claiming if he didn’t, he was dragging him out the second we returned from Milwaukee.

  Between all of that, practicing, and recording, Seth was getting quite flustered—flustered enough that he canceled his therapy appointment this week, and of course next week he wouldn’t be going either—and in any down time he was spending it either sleeping or watching TV or something equally as mind numbing. I didn’t blame him, but I was starting to get a bit worried he was slipping into a manic low.

  I spent most of the downtime attempting to write, but nothing I found was sticking. At first, I thought something along the lines of paranormal romance would be something new and fun, but after about thirty pages, I realized it sounded suspiciously like Twilight and promptly deleted it.