A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)

by Karolyn James

  **

  There was no way Amy would even think about talking about Denny. Not with Luke's hands cupping her ass. Not with the look in his eyes. Not with the desire surging through her body. She had never wanted someone to touch her as bad as she wanted Luke to touch her. As Luke carried her to the bedroom Amy couldn't decipher right from wrong. She honestly hadn't had a one night stand since freshmen year of college, something that was probably pathetic to a guy like Luke. It also made Amy wonder if she would be able to satisfy Luke.

  Her confidence was shaken by the time Luke placed her on her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at the tall, wide man in front of her. The way his arms looked in a long sleeved shirt was amazing. Amy sat up and placed her hands under his shirt. She slid her fingers up, feeling the gentle ripples of his rock hard stomach muscles. When she got to his chest she spread her hands outward. She started to stand, wanting his shirts off, but Luke stopped her. He grabbed his shirt and took care of that himself. His bare body made Amy bite her lip. Her hands were still on his chest. She began to tremble as her hands ran down his body. When she got to his pants, her fingers curled around the top and she pulled, trying to be flirty.

  Luke put his hands to Amy's. He shook his head. "No, baby, not tonight. This is for you."

  "This?" Amy asked.

  Luke leaned forward and came down to Amy. He kissed her with steamy passion. With one hand on the bed for balance, the other hand was free for exploring. Luke lifted Amy's shirt and went straight to her breasts. His touch, even over her bra, had an instant reaction to Amy's body. Amy touched Luke's straightened arm on the bed and felt the definition of his bicep and tricep. Her body never felt so alive or engaged before and Luke wasn't even touching her most sensitive area yet.

  Luke's mouth slipped down from Amy's toward her neck. His lips were soft yet commanding. The tip of his tongue was stiff, exploring left to right, constantly moving, forcing Amy's body into a gentle convulsion that threatened her to climax before anything was actually happening. She caught herself squeezing her legs together very tight, seeking any kind of release from the hot pressure Luke had created.

  Down her neck and then up to her ear, Luke never stopped. He never gave a hint of what he was doing or what he wanted. He just did what he wanted. Amy succumbed to him. His lips caressed her ear as his hand grazed down her stomach. He touched the top of her pants and with the quick flick of his wrist, her pants were undone. Before Amy could react to that, Luke's warm breath flooded her ear.

  "I'm going to taste you, Amy," he whispered. "Remember, tonight is about you. Relax and enjoy."

  His lips were gone and everything sped up. Luke had both hands on Amy's pants, pulling with sexual aggression, forcing them down her body. Her knees touched, trying to keep herself together. Luke smiled because he knew Amy wouldn't resist him, she'd been waiting for this as long as he had.

  Luke's hands slid up and he gently opened her legs. His hands made their way to her hips and he pulled her panties off her body. Amy gripped the sheets and thought about her day. She had worked all day and most of the night. She didn't feel... ready for Luke to do what he intended, but it was too late. She watched with wide eyes and racing heart as Luke began to enjoy her.

  Luke was as passionate there as he had been to her neck and her mouth. Amy's toes curled as her feet stiffened, seeking her bedroom floor for leverage. She couldn't find the floor and it gave her body the intense illusion that she was suspended in air, at Luke's mercy.

  Luke placed his hands to the bed over Amy's hands. He squeezed her hands. He wanted to satisfy her with his mouth. There was something almost romantic about it... Luke used his mouth to create his name, his career. And now he used it to take all of Amy's worries away.

  As she felt herself beginning to climax she wished she could fight it off. She didn't want this to end. She didn't want Luke's perfect mouth to leave her body, but there was no fighting off the surge of pleasure in Amy's body.

  When Luke kissed his way up her body, nuzzling her shirt up the best he could, Amy couldn't stop. The aching felt so good. She needed Luke, she wanted more. He then hovered over her body and in a quick move, he moved to his side and rolled Amy to her side. He held her as she breathed heavily. He moved her hair out of her face, watching her.

  "That was amazing," she whispered. "I didn't expect that."

  "Of course not," Luke said.

  "I want you, Luke."

  "Soon," Luke whispered. "But I want you to do something for me."

  "Anything," Amy said.

  Her body was reeling.

  "I'm sorry to say this," Luke said, obviously unsure whether he should bring it up.

  He moved a piece of hair out of Amy's face. She knew what was coming before he spoke. She closed her eyes and prepared for it.

  "I want to know about Denny."

  (12)

  Luke knew it wasn't the right moment. How could it be the right moment? Amy had no pants or panties on. Luke had no shirt on. They were having an unexpected beautiful night together and it left Luke wanting so much more.

  But first... he needed to know what was causing Amy to be so afraid.

  "How do you know that name?" Amy asked.

  Luke swallowed and said, "I saw a message on your phone."

  Amy pushed at Luke and sat up. "You read my messages?"

  “I was worried about you.”

  "You went through my phone?"

  "Not through your phone, Amy," Luke clarified. "You got a message and your face turned white. You looked ready to start shaking, like the night I met you."

  "I don't care if you're a rockstar," Amy said, "you don't go through someone's phone."

  "I pressed a button," Luke said. "I saw a name and a message suggesting your uncle's restaurant would be burned down. What do I do now?"

  "You mind your own business," Amy said. "I can't believe this."

  Amy stormed from the bed. Luke couldn’t help but check out the way her shirt barely covered her ass. Her ass was perfect, just like the rest of her body. Luke sat up and waited for Amy to turn.

  "I'm sorry," Luke said. "I'm just trying to help you."

  "You seem to always be trying to help people," Amy said. "But they end up hurt."

  The comment went straight to Luke’s heart. He felt like hell, and it was because Amy was right. Everything he thought was right turned out to be wrong.

  "I didn't mean to hurt you then," Luke said. "I'm not that kind of guy that snoops in a woman's phone. I didn't snoop either. I saw a damn message, Amy. A threatening one at that. I'm worried about you."

  "I'm worried about you too," Amy said. "Why don't you take care of yourself first, Luke. Go make sure you can sing before you try saving someone else. Don't hide from your problems through mine."

  "Hide? You think I'm hiding?"

  Amy shook her head. "I don't know what I'm thinking. I don't know enough about you to know, if that makes sense. I'm going to take a shower. I'd like my apartment to be empty when I get out."

  "Amy, wait."

  Luke jumped up and Amy left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  When he heard the sound of the water start, he knew Amy wasn't coming back. Luke left the bedroom after putting his shirt on. He stopped at the bathroom door and touched it with his hand.

  What can I do?

  He wasn't sure what to do. In his mind he thought he had been doing everything right. Getting through the tour with Fallen Tuesday. Trying to protect Amy. Luke knew it was a fine line between right and wrong and maybe that was the one thing that hurt the most about it.

  "Goodbye," Luke whispered.

  He left Amy's apartment, fulfilling her wish. Although he may have been wrong, Luke knew now that the right thing to do was to get back to Los Angeles and meet with Dr. Hornsbury.

  Luke got into the rental car and drove to the closest airport he could find. It was risky just walking into a public place like that, but Luke had no choice. He wasn't g
oing to call Frank and make arrangements. He was going to do what felt right.

  At the airport, Luke managed to get a ticket to Chicago which would connect to a flight to Los Angeles. There he could take a cab to his apartment and figure everything out by morning. On both flights, Luke encountered Fallen Tuesday fans, and it gave two lucky people two flights. On the first flight, a man knew exactly who Luke was. He was in shock and talked about Fallen Tuesday the entire flight. On the second flight, after almost half the flight was over, an older woman made the connection that Luke was indeed the lead singer of her granddaughter's favorite band. She was, in fact, on her way to visit her granddaughter, who was graduating from college. Luke signed a piece of paper for the woman's granddaughter and then took a picture with the grandmother.

  As much as Luke hated to admit it, that older woman saved him from a long flight of self loathing and hating everything around him. Her random chatter and kindness kept Luke busy, distracted, and by the time they landed in Los Angeles, he felt satisfied. The city, even at night, felt like home. Stepping off the plane into the warmer temperature came as a relief. He went into the airport and was quickly mobbed by a small group of people. When Luke spotted a cab, he hurried into the car and it sped away from the fans looking for him.

  "Thanks for this," Luke said.

  "No problem," the driver said. "You're that singer, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "The one that can't sing."

  "I can sing," Luke said. "I just shouldn't."

  "Where are we going?"

  Luke gave the address and looked out the window. About twenty minutes later he was back to the place he called home. To the place he and the rest of the guys moved with nothing more than some guitars, drums, and dreams. They slept in cars - sometimes not their own - and it’s where they truly became brothers. Luke thought about the rest of the band. He wanted to call and say something, the same for Amy, but there were no words, only actions at that point.

  Once at his apartment, Luke paid the cab driver, signed an autograph he didn't expect to sign, and then went inside. It had been over three weeks since he'd been here last. The smell was of dull air and a stale combination of all the foods his neighbors had been cooking. The lights worked. The cable turned on. The fridge had an expired carton of milk and three bottles of beer.

  In the bedroom Luke admired the guitars and amps, the piles of notebooks, CDs, and posters on the walls. It looked more of a dorm room for a twenty year old than a successful rockstar. Luke crashed to the bed and told himself he'd take a nap.

  When his eyes opened again it was already morning. Luke sat up and his head hurt like he had been drinking. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and why. He looked at his phone and saw nothing. Not a call. Not a text. Nothing.

  Nobody had bothered to even check on him. Not that he deserved it.

  Luke went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and then dialed for Dr. Hornsbury. Dr. Hornsbury already knew everything about the band and had planned on calling Luke. With his schedule purposely cleared, Dr. Hornsbury wanted to see Luke as soon as possible. Luke had to find food. He looked out the window and saw his car sitting in the lot.

  Less than an hour later, Luke had ordered three bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches, ate two of them, drank a bottle of orange juice, and a cup of coffee. He arrived to Dr. Hornsbury's office and threw a bag at the doctor.

  "Breakfast," he said.

  "This stuff will kill you," Dr. Hornsbury said.

  "So will singing, right?"

  Dr. Hornsbury laughed. He put the bag of food down and took Luke into his office. He sat Luke down and began to examine his neck and throat. He touched and looked, asking Luke to tell him if it hurt when the pressure was applied. Dr. Hornsbury kept a stone face, giving Luke no indication of the severity. His eyes were focused on Luke’s potential condition and nothing else.

  “Open up,” Dr. Hornsbury said.

  Luke made the aaahhh sound as Dr. Hornsbury checked his throat. The doctor nodded, the first indication of something.

  Dr. Hornsbury backed up and took his exam gloves off.

  “What’s the deal?”

  “The deal, Luke, is that you’re both lucky and stupid.”

  “Lucky and stupid seems to be my thing right now.” He didn’t smile, he was being serious. He considered himself a very lucky man to have been able to pursue his musical dream and have it pay off. Now he felt stupid for hiding something medical from his band.

  “There are no polyps,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “That’s good. Those can be nothing or they could end up becoming cancer.”

  “I take it that’s the lucky part?”

  Dr. Hornsbury nodded. “That’s the lucky part. The stupid part was you went back out there and kept singing like you did. Your throat is very swollen and pissed off at you, Luke. You need to rest. When a doctor tells you to do that, you should listen. When you cough up some blood after a show, that’s your body demanding it.”

  “Well, you read the news,” Luke said. “The tour is off now. I have nothing but time.”

  “Time is good, but I need you to relax and unwind a little. Let your body heal itself.”

  “You’re not doing surgery or anything?” Luke asked.

  Dr. Hornsbury shook his head. “There’s nothing to operate on. It’s your body wanting a break. You can do some voice rehab if you’d like, but I personally think you should head home and chill out, Luke. I know that’s probably not on the top of your list, which is fine, but it’s what you need to do.”

  “That’s it?” Luke asked.

  “That’s it,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “But I’m telling you right now, Luke. You’re walking a fine line. You do something else to your throat and it could be over for good. I’m talking permanent vocal chord damage. Right now, everything just looks annoyed. Overworked. I can understand how your life has changed in the past year, but if you don’t take care of yourself right now, your life will be changing again and it won’t involve you getting on stage.”

  The warning was clear. Luke didn’t have to like it but he had to accept it.

  “Let me give you a minute to yourself,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “Then you can ask me anything you’d like.”

  The doctor left the room and Luke leaved forward with his elbows on his knees. He stared at the blue-green carpet and thought about Fallen Tuesday and Amy. This was one hell of a lucky break. When Luke first saw the blood when he coughed he thought that was it. He thought the tour was going to be his first and last major tour. Maybe that’s why he wanted to finish the tour, to be some kind of noble hero, going out with the greatest fight of his life. However, what seemed honorable was actually what Dr. Hornsbury had called it, stupid.

  Luke took his phone from his pocket and had to text Amy.

  Can we talk?

  Luke didn’t want to just spill everything in a single text message. In the event that Amy really wanted nothing to do with him he didn’t want her to feel obligated for anything. Luke thought about sending texts the band but he decided to wait to call them. They deserved a call.

  Dr. Hornsbury came back into the room carrying a chart. He placed it on his desk and turned to face Luke.

  “Thought your schedule was cleared?” Luke asked.

  “It is,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “I wanted you to sit alone and think about this.”

  “I dodged a bullet, didn’t I?” Luke asked.

  “Well… let’s say the bullet nicked you. But if you keep stepping in the way of the guy with the gun…”

  “Okay,” Luke said, waving his hand. “Enough with the metaphor shit. You’re not a writer.”

  Dr. Hornsbury laughed. “I just want the message to get across clearly to you.”

  “Do I need to do anything? Any medications? Drinks?”

  “Again, it’s all about rest right now. You can talk, like you are right now. No straining your voice. No yelling. No screaming. No singing, Luke.”

  “I got it,”
Luke said.

  “Rest for a month and come back to me. We’ll work you back into singing again. I’ll do the best I can.”

  “How did this happen to me? Will it happen again?”

  “Those are tough questions,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “The how part… too much at once. Young musician gets a lucky break and goes out and does everything possible. Playing shows, recording, promoting, touring. I’m sure your after show regimen wasn’t the greatest either.”

  Luke smiled. “I’m a rockstar, doc.”

  “I’d like to keep you a rockstar,” Dr. Hornsbury said.

  “So, what, no more drinking after shows?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Dr. Hornsbury said. “Let’s let your voice heal before we do anything else.”

  Luke pushed out of the chair and shook the doctor’s hand. “I appreciate you seeing me today.”

  “I appreciate you finally listening.”

  Luke swallowed another piece of pride. He turned to leave and had his hand on the door handle when something else came to him.

  “Hey, doc, you mentioned too much at once.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I played all those Chasing Cross shows,” Luke said with his back to Dr. Hornsbury. “I would sing the Fallen Tuesday set and then go backstage, take a drink, then get behind the drum kit for Chasing Cross. I played and sang there, too. Those were nights when I would warm up and play for over four hours a night.”

  “Are you asking if playing those extra shows did something to you?”

  Luke nodded.

  Dr. Hornsbury sighed. “Would my answer really matter?”

  Luke thought about it for a second. “Thanks for seeing me, doc.”

  He left the room. He had most of the answers he needed right then.

  The rest would come soon.