Be Your Savior: The Be Yours Trilogy #2

by Fox, Lizzie

  Kicking the door shut behind me with frustration, when I entered the suite I kicked off the expensive shoes, flung the pricey handbag down on the nearby chair, and scrambled anxiously to strip out of the fancy labeled dress. I could barely manage to get it off, and when I maneuvered to take it off, the zipper tore some. I snorted bitterly. So much for top notch craftsmanship. I was probably given a knockoff to shut me up.

  I wiggled out of the dress and tossed it aside, not caring where it landed, and I grabbed my cell out of the bag, stalked through the lavish suite and flung myself into the bed, wearing only my white panties and strapless bra.

  Seth had only anticipated doing the show, and then he’d be done. We had planned on maybe going to the all-night restaurant down the road, but we probably would have stayed in and done room service.

  Sighing, feeling defeated, I crawled under the blankets and rested my head on the pillow that Seth had been using. Even after only a couple of nights, it smelled like him. Like a mix of something uniquely him, my fruity smelling shampoo, and his spicy deodorant, and I missed him. But that was stupid; I’d only just saw him thirty minutes ago.

  All in all, over the past forty-eight hours, we’d only been together maybe twelve of that, and half of that was spent sleeping. We hadn’t been together much at all, and after three or four months of being inseparable it felt… wrong. The idea began to freak me out. How could I be this dependent on him after such a short time. Did it matter though—wasn’t that what it was supposed to be about? Loving your partner so much, you hated to be parted? Or maybe that was just a dream.

  That ‘honeymoon’ phase only lasted maybe five months with Adam, if it was ever really there. With Blake, it never went away. People could argue that because we were only together such a short time that’s why it felt that way, but that was different. Totally different. Wasn’t it?

  I craved Seth like I craved Blake, and I felt like a better person with him around. Either one, really. I knew I could find contentment without him—Seth that was—but I just didn’t want to.

  I supposed that’s what made these couple of days particularly hard. He was away, doing his thing—and that was great—and I was just left behind to pine. So I’d tried to distract myself but really, nothing worked. I used the excuse that I could work on my writing but so far? Just a blank screen was all that came out. Over and over again.

  Just a few more days and that’s it… I just needed to get through the rest of this week, and we’d be golden. Seth said he didn’t want to continue this. We’d probably encounter some of it in Florida, but I’d have Shane and the other wives there for support. I wouldn’t be alone.

  I was sure that’s all it was. I was just feeling a bit lonely, and sorry for myself because professionally, Seth’s life was taking off. And mine was totally stagnant.

  Everything I tried to write was absolute garbage. I didn’t know what it was, but nothing inspired me. Nothing drove me enough to compose like I did before.

  Though I’d written many other things over the years, the book I published when I was twenty-one, over a year after Blake died, was only penned in about a month’s time. Ninety-thousand heartfelt words, searching desperately for the happy ending I never got. It was the only way I could ever sleep at night. Oh, that and alcohol. It propelled both my writing and my coping.

  But man… it felt good to numb the pain. Without it, I didn’t smile. I didn’t live. I couldn’t even function long enough to go to work my crappy job in retail that I stayed at after his passing and until the book made it big. It was never enough to make me drunk unless I was at home, but just enough to make me feel just a bit floaty so I could plaster a smile on my face when customers were around. Without it, all I did was cry and frown because I was so upset, I couldn’t do anything.

  Really, that’s all it was. It helped me get through a tough time. I didn’t really have a problem with it. If it wasn’t for the DWI I got for sitting in a parked car with the keys in the ignition, listening to the radio on the street after Adam and I had had a fight, no one ever would have known that I drank at all. But after that I had to go to A/A and all that crap, along with the huge fines Adam never let me forget about. Since then, I was careful to keep it under wraps. Just a glass of wine here and there to let me sleep. Just a shot here and there to help drown out Adam’s persistent snoring so I could rest, or to help ease some of the pain of being infertile when I so desperately didn’t want to be.

  “Hi, I’m Jessie, and I’m an alcoholic.” I snorted derisively at the thought. I went through the motions because I was required to, and I continued long after my sentence was over because I actually liked the company. The ladies in A/A had all dealt with some pretty bad life situations, and my sponsor, Kelly, was even widowed herself. Even though I didn’t really have a problem, I still kept going. It was a solace in the craphole that was my shit life with Adam. He thought I drank all the time. Really, it was only when he was around so that I could deal with looking at him.

  I blew out a breath, shaking my head. All right it was a bit more than that. But…I could keep in control. I could. Really…

  The thought of dulling my emotions right now with one of those bottles of whiskey in the minibar in the other room? I didn’t need to do it. Honestly.

  If it had been a problem, someone would have said something—Seth would have said something. He wouldn’t let me self-destruct. Because he knew what that was.

  I pushed the thought out of my mind when my cell phone started playing “I Want You” by Savage Garden; Shane’s ringer. Anyone else I would have been surprised since it was after 11 PM on a weeknight but—it was Shane. I didn’t think he ever slept.

  “Woman, get on the net and look at Miles’ page.” He didn’t even greet me when I answered.

  “Um… why? I know they went off to do some interviews and things but…” Secretly, I dreaded seeing what was going on, but I probably should know.

  “Just do it…”

  Groaning, I reached down into the laptop bag and pulled out my computer, opened it, and went promptly to Miles Madisons’ social media page. For the second time that night, my mouth totally fell open. “Oh my god…”

  “Right?” Shane agreed with my sentiments. “I heard about it and was going to simultaneously stream it onto the band’s page, but I got so distracted with everything…”

  “Well, yeah.” Shaking my head, I watched the video before me. Miles and his band, plus Seth, gathered outside, with lights and flashing cameras as they casually posed for—whatever they were doing. Miles was really milking this up, wasn’t he? Seth definitely seemed a bit uneasy at first, especially at all the cheering. And the throngs of screaming women.

  What was shocking? They weren’t cheering for Miles or the band. No, they were cheering for Seth. My damned fiancé. It only got worse when they moved to the crowd behind a barricade and started shaking hands and chatting with them.

  He looked incredibly uncomfortable at first, as random people started shoving papers and notebooks at him. Someone placed a black marker in Seth’s hand, and he awkwardly started walking down the line, signing various things. You could hear a few women ask for selfies and he didn’t acknowledge them at first, until a couple people later when Miles grabbed him by the arm, spun him around and grabbed a woman’s phone. She was young, blonde, and beautiful. Perfectly made up, and perfectly who I thought should be with Seth, and not some old washed-up thing like me. Miles nudged him, and Seth rolled his eyes and posed for the photo. Someone said something nearby that made Seth laugh, and something about his demeanor changed. He had been nervous, but whatever it was got him going, and he began grinning widely at the crowd, pausing here and there to sign things with Miles and pose for another handful of photos. Each one he seemed to get a bit more comfortable; he even thanked a woman for her compliment, who took it as okay to kiss his cheek, leaving behind a pink lipstick smudge.

  “Oh lord… girl, you’re gonna lose it, aren’t you?” Shane asked. I didn’t say
anything.

  “Nope, not at all.” I lied through my teeth.

  “It’s just for one night. Maybe two with Florida and after that… he’s done. Right?” Shane asked hopefully, and I considered this.

  “Well he said so…”

  But when Seth and Miles were pulled away from the crowd, and a young man named Lucas Knightley from some podcast show began to ask him questions, the subject of Miles’ tour came up.

  “Yeah, I was hoping Seth here would agree to open up for me, at least part of the time,” Miles said, and my mouth fell open. “I have a lot of shows coming up and I could use some good talent for them.”

  Seth appeared blindsided for a moment but nodded slowly. “Wow, thanks. I’ll…well I’d love to, but it’s not totally up to me.”

  “I have to go.” I said suddenly to Shane.

  “Wait—don’t, Jess. He’s just caught up in the moment. Really,” Shane insisted.

  “That’s the thing, Shane. He was made for this. If I’m holding him back?” I laughed shortly, feeling the idea weigh on me heavily.

  “Well it’s just a short time, right? How long does a tour last? Couple of months or something?” Shane asked, and I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me.

  “Try like a year. Miles said he’s been on this tour with the band for a year.”

  “Ow. Okay… that is… a long time. But he said you could go with, right?” Shane offered.

  “Maybe. Would I even want to, though? If I’m going to be shoved aside and ignored like I have been, I don’t think I could take it. It’s one thing if he was off with you guys but Miles? He’s a bad influence,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes at the two of them looking like they were joking and goofing off for the camera.

  “You don’t think he’d…”

  “No. I don’t. But he hasn’t had a ton of fun his entire life. Nor have I, but he might just want to. I’d have to let him. And by the time he got back… I’m sure all my insides would be all dried up,” I replied. I let out a long sigh. “Look, really I have to go. It’s been a long couple of days, and I’m tired. He should be back soon anyway, and I can ask him about all of it.”

  “Damn, Jess. Don’t get too upset, I’m sure he’s just having fun for now,” Shane insisted.

  “Did you see that woman? She kissed him and he just… let her.”

  “That doesn’t mean crap, Jessie, and you know it. What else was he supposed to do? Push her or deck her?”

  “No, but… come on don’t they have rules about this stuff?” I grumbled sullenly.

  “I’m sure they do, but not everyone is good about following it.”

  “Dammit. I’ll talk to you later, I’m worn out,” I said, disconnecting the call rather shortly. I tossed the phone aside on the bed and snapped the computer shut. The feed had ended, finally and was just replaying over and over again. I wasn’t sure what the point was, but I knew Miles probably had a reason for it. Trying to promote his work being the biggest one.

  Shaking my head, feeling both slightly angered and just all around…confused, I scrubbed my hand over my face. My mind felt anxious… and irrational thoughts played over and over again in my brain.

  He says he doesn’t want this, but it’s clear he does.

  He’ll only leave you behind eventually. That blonde looks better for him than you do. Like she has years ahead of her to have a family if she wants one, and he can go off and live before settling down.

  Tons of negative thoughts and worries over and over again. Resolutely, I tried to push them aside, reaching for my tablet in the same bag below, and attempting to read an e-book. But after ten minutes I realized I hadn’t absorbed a single word and had read twenty pages. I didn’t even remember what book this was.

  I need a drink.

  NO! I didn’t need to do that. No. No. No.

  What I needed was to relax. A drink would help you do that.

  NO!

  No, a bath would help that.

  Determined, I ignored the champagne I never drank the other night from when we arrived, still sitting in its bucket. Bet it’s good…it looks expensive.

  Be a shame to waste it.

  “No, you’re not going there…” Still I grabbed the bottle by the neck and went to the kitchen to shove it in the fridge. “Bath… take a long bath in that nice tub…”

  Determined to push the idea of alcohol out of my mind, I went to the bathroom, stripped down, and turned on the tap of the huge tub, pouring in whatever bath oils or soaps were left on the side nearby, and I slid in. The hot water relaxed my sore feet and tense muscles, and I groaned lightly in pleasure. I didn’t wash my hair but did wet it down, and I washed my face with the fancy cleanser nearby, careful to scrub all the designer makeup off. It felt good, turning into me again. Not as good as an orgasm or the tipsy feeling of a stiff drink, but it did feel nice.

  I didn’t know how long I was there for, but apparently, I’d fallen asleep, worn out from the stress of the day, because the water had gone cold—damn cold—and I was wrinkled and goose-fleshed. Shivering, I drained the water and grabbed towels nearby, wrapping them around my body and hair and going back to the bedroom for new underwear, gray leggings and a fitted green tee, forgoing a bra. I felt a bit more relaxed until I noticed the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was well past 1AM.

  “The hell?” I promptly grabbed the phone, wondering if there had been any messages from Seth, but the message window was blank. So, I shot off a message to him.

  Hey, how’s it going? Do you have your stuff? It’s getting late so I was getting a bit worried. Let me know what’s up…

  Forcing the worry from my mind, I set the phone aside, and tried to focus on my book again. But all that came to mind was that damn champagne in the fridge.

  No, no, no… don’t need to go there again.

  “Nope… I’m good. You’re good, you can do this…” I didn’t have to be dependent on the stuff anymore. After all besides those drinks at the Lagoona well over a year ago, I hadn’t touched the stuff since until recently. Not at all, not even a little bit.

  Before that… well. I did, but even though I got the DWI I mean, it was just a formality. I was able to still cook and clean—just not to Adam’s satisfaction—and run errands and do his stupid business dinners and put on a happy face. Hell, if it wasn’t for the glass or two of wine I’d have beforehand, and the one I’d sip at the rest of the evening, I couldn’t have made it through.

  I wasn’t an alcoholic. Alcoholics are out of control, belligerent or violent, or make poor decisions. I made my best decisions after relaxing after a drink, really.

  After Blake died… yes. I became quite bad with it. I’d drink all day until I passed out, and then wake up and drink some more. Kieran and Victoria really saved my butt there, and didn’t make me feel badly about it, though they probably should have. My heart shattered and broke when Blake died.

  When I was with Adam? It was just enough to shut off the little bit of sadness and angst I felt being around him. I should have just left, but… I didn’t feel it was an option.

  So…no big deal. I knew what it was like to get drunk and lose it. This wasn’t it.

  After this week? I wouldn’t drink again. But worrying about Seth, the baby stuff, the tour—everything—was just too much.

  “Fuck it.” And I went for the kitchen, took the bottle from the fridge, peeled off the foil, and uncorked it. Letting it settle, I found a glass in the cabinet and poured myself one. Just one. All I needed. Then I could go to sleep and not worry about all this until morning when Seth was here.

  That was all I needed.

  That’s what I tried to tell myself, but by 2:45AM and half the bottle gone, I knew that was a lie.

  The burn down my throat each time was exhilarating, and the way it calmed my muscles and relaxed me was just heaven. Like a hard, long orgasm but maybe even better, because it hung around for a while. Though, orgasms from Seth had their own lasting effect.

  And i
f he were here right now… I could totally go about having one. But no… he’s off, living his fancy new rock star life, and to hell with me.

  “Fuck him,” I replied, guzzling down another long swallow. I was well on my way to tipsy at this point, feeling nice and rubbery with the room gently spinning a bit like a cheerful merry go round. Not enough to make me dizzy, but just enough to make me laugh. And hell, I deserved to laugh, right?

  “Fuck who?”

  I set the glass down with a loud clink on the nightstand as Seth poised in the doorway, leaning against the frame. I nearly swooned aloud, he looked so gorgeous with his black hair, messily styled on purpose, his lean frame and long legs, pouty mouth with that black ring and that damned ink. So much ink, I loved tracing with my fingers. So many pretty designs… birds and flowers and symbols and song lyrics…

  …and pink lipstick on his cheek.

  “Honey?”

  I shook myself out of a haze and glared. “I see you enjoyed yourself?”

  “Huh?” He asked, confused. I pointed at my cheek and scowled. Suddenly, he seemed to realize what I meant and promptly wiped it off his cheek with the back of his hand, smearing it on his designer shirt. “Oh, sorry. That was… insane.”

  “Yeah, you’ve been wearing that all night. Or is that another kiss mark from some other pretty, big-boobed blonde, huh?” I retorted with a snort.

  “Ah… you saw that huh?” Seth grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I tried to pull away—”

  “I know.” And I did. But still. “Why are you so late?” I asked, taking a calming breath and resolving to let Seth give his side of the story before I railed.

  “Oh,” Seth smiled brightly. “Miles wanted to bring me to a little after party he always gives for the crew and whatnot after each show. It’s actually nice of him, he goes all out each time to make sure he shows all the ‘little people’ how much he appreciates them. After the interviews and crap, he insisted I just run through really quick and meet everyone. I guessed I lost track of time, because we started just randomly playing. Just an impromptu jam session because we just started talking and—” Seth closed his mouth, realizing that I had my arms crossed over my chest, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I should have called. I should have brought you.”