by Daisy Allen
“Open it.” He says after I just hold it in my hands.
I do, and it takes a split second for the blood to run cold in my veins.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
I hand it to him, and his skin turns white in the same amount of time it takes for us both to jump to our feet.
“He’s got her.”
I nod. “It’s got to be him.”
“What’s going on??” Hailey yells, trying to get our attention.
“No time to explain, Hails, just get everyone back here.”
“I think I know where they are.” I tell them.
Jez nods, “I think I know too.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Anca
I wonder all the time what my mother and father thought about in that split second before their car accident, what they were doing. Was my mother smiling at my father as she teased him about the way he was dressed or was he growling at the way the car smelled too much like lavender, her scent.
Did they have that luxury, knowing that it would all be over for them soon? Or in those last moments, were they still thinking that the years lay far ahead of them, to be with each other, with Jez and me?
I just know that now, faced with the very real possibility of it all being taken away, I’m thinking of them. Of them, of Jez, and of Marius.
There’s no fear.
Just sadness.
For their sadness.
“So, are you ready to play now, Anca? Or are you going to tell me what your request it? We don’t have much time. We must be going from here soon, it’s not safe.” He emphasizes the last word, and the sharp point of his weapon, digs deeper into my skin, threatening to break it.
I can’t help but gasp. It doesn’t hurt… yet. But the anticipation is just as intense.
“Y-yes. Let my legs free, please. I can’t play without reaching the pedals. It’s just not complete, and I won’t play if it’s not perfect. It’s been so long since I played for you, I don’t want to play if it’s not perfect.”
My voice is soft, I’m trying to keep it calm, even as my mind races about how to execute my next step.
“Fine, Anca. I will do as you ask. But don’t get any ideas, it’s better for you to just stay with me. I’ll take care of you from now on.”
It’s hard to keep my mouth from lifting into a sneer at his words. How had I fallen for this before? How stupid could I have been?
“Yes, Maestro. I just want to be free to be with you.”
If he can spout off ridiculous words then so can I.
I feel his fingers fumbling at my feet, and the feel of something pulling, like rope, and then it breaks. Cut by something sharp. It’s hard not to focus on the fact that it’s probably the knife that he had poised at the nape of my neck.
I shuffle my legs, just to test their movement. They’re free. I’m free.
“Play now, Anca.”
I lift my hands and take a breath. And then I play.
Play like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. Play like my life depends on it. Play to release every pain and regret from my body, and welcome in nothing but the absolute joy of playing. And play… to call them to me. Marius! Jez! Come find me, I am here.
“STOP!! STOP! Anca! What is this rubbish! STOP!” He yells and the sound threatens to halt me, but I don’t stop.
“NO! No, this is NOT what you should be playing! NO!”
I feel him looming closer and hold my breath, waiting for the right moment.
My fingers fly over the strings, plucking each note with deliberation and purpose.
“This is what I play now, Maestro! This is my music! You’ve never heard of it? It’s called Beautiful, by Christina Aguilera. It’s a very famous song!” I shout out into the darkness.
“You talentless fool!” He spits out and I feel his fingers wrap around mine, pulling them from the harp.
Now! My mind yells and I kick out with my legs as hard as I can. Kick! Kick! Kick! Each one making contact- some with wood and some with leg. Flashes of pain run up my foot and shin but I ignore them as I rip my hand away from his and push myself up from the stool, reaching for the scarf around my eyes as I run, blindly away.
“No!” I hear him growl and his hand grabs my leg, pulling me to the ground before I can free my eyes.
“Ugh,” I grunt, the wind slammed out of me. I drag air back into my lungs. Breathe, Anca breathe, remember… I never stop hearing him tell me. “Let me go!” I yell, kicking frantically, hoping just to tear my foot free of him.
“No, you are mine, I made you,” he bellows. And it scares me how much he believes it. How I used to believe it.
“You heard her! LET HER GO!” I suddenly hear a third or fourth voice in the distance shout. In my madness I can’t make out who it is, can’t even be sure I really heard it, but it gives me that last ounce of strength I need. I lift my leg up and bicycle kick down, praying that I meet skin and flesh and not a jagged rock.
“AHHH!” I screech for strength, slamming my leg down with all my might. I feel my heel slam against something with a sickening thud.
“UGHHH!” There’s a growl of pain and my foot is free.
I scramble to my feet and run, still blind.
“Anca!” The voices call to me and I turn in their direction, still running. My ankle twists on a rock, the blinding pain shoots all the way up to my knee and I feel myself buckle and fall toward the ground.
But I never reach it.
Something, someone, warm catches me around the waist and pulls me upright. I struggle, out of sheer instinct.
But they hold me tighter.
“Anca! It’s me, It’s Marius! It’s me, baby, it’s me. I got you. I’m here, I’ve got you!”
And suddenly I can see, the blindfold lifted from my eyes. And it’s really him. He’s here.
“Marius!” I cry, and feel my body buckle again, this time out of relief. But he doesn’t let me fall.
“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”
“You son of a bitch! I should’ve finished you off last time!” I suddenly hear Jez shout and I pivot around to see my brother running towards the Maestro, still crumpled on the ground.
“Oh my god! Jez, no! Marius! You’ve got to stop Jez, he’ll kill him!”
“Fuck. Stay here. You’re okay, just stay here, okay?”
Marius takes off, his arms pumping by his sides as he makes ground on my brother. I follow, ignoring his plea for me to stay put.
“Jez! Stop!” Marius calls out to his friend. But his words mean nothing to Jez right now.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Jez shouts as he comes within feet of the Maestro.
I summon all the air in my lungs and beg my brother, “JEZ! Please no!”
Somehow, Marius gains on him, and slams his body into Jez’s back, pulling him to the ground. I run to them, the air rasping in my lungs.
“Get the FUCK off of me, Marius! He can’t get away with this!” Jez struggles, but Marius holds tight.
“And he won’t, man. We’ll make sure of it. He won’t.”
“Jez!” I pant, catching up with him.
I fall to my knees in front of him. “Jez, please. It’s not worth it. You’ve hurt yourself over him before. I’m okay, see? I’m okay.” I look him in the eye and give him the biggest smile I can.
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Hey, hey hey… there’s nothing to be sorry for, big brother. I’m fine.” I nod, trying to get him to see that I really am okay.
There’s the sound of movement and we watch, as if in slow motion, the Maestro pull himself to his feet.
“You’re nothing but a two-bit talentless nobody. I can’t believe I wasted my time on you.” He spits, wiping blood from his mouth.
I close my eyes and let his words wash over me. They mean nothing to me now. I am free. I open my eyes again, just in time to see,
Marius spring to his feet and run towards the Maestro. “Marius, stop!” I yell, reaching for him, but he’s too fast.
He leaps for the Maestro and I see the glint of the knife’s blade a split second too soon.
“Marius! He’s got a knife!” I yell as I run to them, ignoring the pain in my ankle. They fall to the ground as I reach them, rolling away as they wrestle. The Maestro pulls back for a moment and then his whole body thrusts forward. Marius grunts in pain, his body crumples, then lays still. The Maestro jumps back up to his feet and runs off into the night.
“Oh my god! Marius!” I yell, turning his body over, checking him for wounds. “Marius! Speak to me.”
“Uhhhhh.”
“Oh my god, where are you hurt?? TELL ME!”
“Fucker… fucker’s got a bony fucking knee.” He manages to say.
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“No! I’m not okay, I’m going to have to cart my gonads around in a wheelbarrow for days, that’s how swollen they’re going to be,” he says, gaining his breath back.
“What? What about the knife? Did he get you?” My hands run all over him, but there’s no blood.
“You mean this knife?” Jez speaks up next to me, as he leans over and picks something up off the ground.
The knife is clean, blood free.
My head suddenly feels dizzy as I’m flooded with relief.
“Oh, she’s going down again.” I hear Marius say.
“I got you, sis. I got you.” I hear for the second time that night as I’m caught by someone who loves me. “You’ve had a rough night.”
Jez helps me sit on the ground, leaning back against him, as Marius slowly composes himself. “How-… how did you know I was here?”
I watch them give each other a look before Marius answers. “Where else would he bring you but the scene of your worst performance stage fright? Everyone likes to see the result of their work.”
“He’s not going to get far… you think your gonads are swollen.” I say, with no a small amount of glee.
“That’s my girl.” Marius grins weakly.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Marius
By the time we get back to the hotel, the others are crowded there, waiting for us. It doesn’t take long for the police to take our statements and we’re back in our hotel suites, all a little worse for wear.
I don’t leave Anca’s side, watching her every word, her every move, making sure she’s alright after her ordeal.
I don’t know how she can be handling it so well. I know if I’d gone through half of what she’d endured tonight I’d be either drowning the thoughts with Scotch or passed out dead to the world with exhaustion. But she’s still sitting here, answering everyone’s questions, over and over again, smiling and taking everything in her stride.
“Tell us again, how did it feel when you kicked him in the boy bits?” Brad asks, his face screwed up in horror.
“Well, why don’t you ask Marius, he got a good kneeful as well.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I say, cupping my groin and moaning.
“Were you scared?” Emily asks, reaching out to pat Anca on the hand.
Anca nods. “Sometimes. Sometimes I was too busy trying to figure out how I was going to escape.”
“You’re so brave,” Emily replies. “I’m not sure how I would’ve reacted in the same situation.”
“You would’ve done whatever you could do to get back to Ben,” Anca tells her, and Emily gives her a smile of thanks.
“So, he’d been following you all this time?” Cadence asks, her face pale from the thought of her new friend going through such an ordeal.
“Well, I only know that he was at the last few concerts. But who knows. And who knows where he is now.”
“We’ll find him. Don’t worry. You’re safe now. We promise,” Dennis says from his spot by the door. And I know, he won’t rest until the job is done.
It’s close to 2 a.m. before the drama of the night catches up with everyone and they slowly, one by one, disappear into their own rooms.
Soon, it’s only Jez, Hailey, Anca and me left.
“Anca…” Hailey starts to speak, and Anca stops her.
“No… Hailey. I can’t hear you say ‘sorry’ one more time. This was in NO way your fault. If anything, if you hadn’t been there to tell them about the flowers, who knows where I would be right now.”
“Okay, how ‘bout this, when the tour is all over, we go get so drunk we erase this night from our brains forever, for good.”
Anca’s body shakes as she laughs and reaches out to give Hailey a hug. “You have got a deal. You’re paying though – I’m going to be unemployed soon.”
Hailey chuckles and finally lets Anca go of the hug. “On that note, I better go do some damage control, so that we don’t all end up unemployed.”
“Jez, can you maybe make sure she gets back to her room, okay?” Anca asks.
He throws me a look and I know he’s reluctant to leave his sister. I mouth “I’ll stay with her,” though I’m not sure how that’s any more reassuring to him, and he nods to me, and then pulls himself to his feet and sighs.
“Of course I can, a Grammy Award winning artist’s job is never done. Milady?” he says to Hailey, holding out his arm. She laughs as she curtseys and lets him lead her down the hallway to her room.
I get up and lock the door and dim the lights.
“Anca.”
“Marius, whatever it is you want to say, can it wait until tomorrow? I’m… I’m so tired.”
“No… no. It can’t.” I run my fingers through my hair. There’s a little dried blood at the back of my ear that I hadn’t notice before. I wipe it on my pants and turn back to Anca, who’s laying back against the cushions, her eyes half-closed as she watches me.
“Come here,” she says, reaching out her arms.
I walk over, settling down next to her on the couch, careful not to jostle her in case I hurt her. I run my fingers along the line of her jaw; her eyes close as my fingers reach her mouth, trembling over the softness of her lips. I pull away and she murmurs something I can’t understand.
I lean in, my ear right by her lips. “What is it, Anca?”
“Stay with me. Please. Stay with me tonight.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll be right here,” I whisper back.
“Promise?”
“A hundred thousand times.”
“I’m so tired,” she sighs, curling up against me.
I tuck the hair behind her ear and kiss her gently on the cheek. “I know. Just sleep. And when you wake up, I’ll be right here.”
***
She doesn’t sleep well. Every sound from the street makes her stir. At some point during the night, I carry her to the bed, laying her head on the soft pillow seems to help, and she finally settles into a deep slumber. I watch as her forehead smooths over, as she succumbs to sleep. And I succumb to the nightmares of what might have happened if we’d been too late.
It’s only just daybreak when I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I open my eyes to see a sleepy Brad standing by the bed in a robe, gesturing for me to follow him. I slide quietly out of bed, making sure Anca is covered up and follow him to the outer room.
Everyone is there. Dennis, the rest of the band, Cadence, Hailey and Emily. The women look like they’ve been up all night.
“What’s up, guys?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. I can’t have been asleep for more than two or three hours.
“We need to do some serious damage control. It’s going to be all over the headlines about your fight on stage last night and Anca’s…”
“What? Her kidnapping?”
“No, the media don’t know about that, somehow we nipped it in the bud.”
“Then what?”
Emily cringes and looks at Hailey who sighs.
“Well, see for yourself.” She reaches into the folder she’s holding and hands me a newspaper.
The front page is
a picture of me punching Jez on stage last night. With an insert of Anca kissing me at the outdoor concert in Nice. But it’s the headline that stands out, “ROCKY TIME IN THE CHAMBERS FOR ROCK CHAMBER BOYS” with the subheading ‘Little sister who stole bandmate’s heart, fails to steal the show.” I scan the article and it slams Anca for being some sort of groupie and causing a rift in the band. Mentioning her stage fright and then running off. It also incites ticket buyers to try to get a partial refund because they didn’t get what they paid for.
“This is utter and complete bullshit. Take care of this, Hailey. It’s your job,” I remind her.
“She knows. She’s been up all night killing the story where she can from popping up, but we can’t do it all,” Emily cuts in.
“Well, who cares. It’ll all die down by next week.”
“No, we need it to die down now. This whole tour was to support our album release, and we’re already getting calls about reducing orders and less airplay. We need to talk about what we’re going to do, and it has to start now.”
I can’t believe this. After everything, we’ve been through, I have to worry about what the public is thinking?
“I don’t care, guys!”
“Maz,” Sebastian starts but I cut him off.
“Don’t you even- I was there for you guys when your sex pics came out,” I wave my hand toward Cadence, “and how many scandals has Jez been in?”
“Marius, we had to do damage control then and we have to do it now.”
“And what do you have in mind exactly?”
“Well, there are two ways. One, we have to separate the band from Anca and the relationship as much as possible. Or two, show that we’re behind her 100%… but she needs to prove them she’s up to the challenge. We might have to do a special concert, or have her do the radio rounds for a few days.”
“No. She’s not a fucking show pony. I know she can do this. So do you.”
“Marius, we know. But it’s about reassuring everyone else.”
I scrunch up the newspaper in my hand, thinking about the beautiful, sweet woman in my bed right now. Her ankle and body bruised, her spirit broken. And all I can say is, “Everyone else can go get fucked. I’m not putting any more pressure on Anca now. You do what you have to. I’m going back to bed, because I promised her, when she wakes up, I’m going to be there.”
