“Right,” I agreed, taking the soft natural sponge and pouring some bath gel on to it. Tenderly I sponged her magnificent swollen breasts and her bump and watched our babies kicking excitedly. I had begun to look at every week they stayed in her womb as a bonus. My guts churned at the thought of leaving her, but I continually argued in my head it was fourteen gigs in twenty-one days. Three weeks would make her twenty-seven weeks and her doctors were confident she’d make those with the babies inside.
“Oh, Sawyer, this is bliss,” she moaned gently as I massaged shampoo into her wet hair, kneading her scalp slowly with my fingertips. “Oh, those magic fingers of yours, they’re amazing, don’t stop,” she moaned again.
“Mmm, gotta love those fingers, huh?” I teased remembering the pleasure they brought her every time I slid them inside of her. I allowed one hand to leave her head, rinsed off the soap and slid it between her legs. Billie’s back slid down my wet torso and her legs parted a little, which gave me better access. Soft and slow I circled her clit and she turned her face to look up at me.
“I can’t believe this is my life,” she said, and my hand froze for a second on her clit. My heart went out to her for the years where she never had the attention that had become part of her daily life.
“Darlin’ I can’t believe this is mine,” I responded in kind, sounding a little sappy, but it was true. She had brought so much light to my life. Being with her made everything we’d both faced in the past worth it.
“You’ve put up with so much, made me feel as if nothing was an effort for you,” she went on, and I sat up a little and took my hand away as this was yet another serious conversation she’d wanted to get off her chest.
“Baby, it wasn’t an effort. All of that is part of life, it’s messy and fucked up at times, but it’s times like these that make us understand why we go through the rest.”
“Sometimes my heart feels as if it’s going to burst out of my throat when I look at you, how amazing you are inside and out, and what we have.”
“Same,” I chuckled and kissed the top of her head.
“It’s going to be even tougher when these little ones come,” she warned in a serious tone, and I nodded.
“But we’re resilient, nothing we can’t handle,” I stated firmly.
“How come you’re so confident about everything?”
“Same reason you’re not. I was brought up with praise and encouragement, surrounded by many people who loved me, plus I inherited my dad’s ‘fuck everyone’ attitude.
Billie stiffened and turned her body a little for a better look at me. “You know, you’re right. All my life I was taught to worry about what other people thought, to accept how things were when my father left, to be submissive to other peoples’ needs. I’ve gone from a lifelong habit of being quietly strong and never dreamed of myself having a life with a wonderful, protective, funny, thoughtful man who believes we can do anything. Sawyer, that’s one hell of a shift in circumstance and a lot to get used to.”
“You’re getting there,” I told her honestly, because she stood up to me when she needed to and knowing I was there gave her confidence to speak her mind with others. I kissed her head then began cupping hot water from the bath into my hand and trailing it down her bump. “Did you ever think you could have dealt with what happened at Christmas?” I asked, knowing full well how worried she’d been about having Logan and I at the same table.
“No, but now that I have I know I could do it again. It wasn’t easy sitting at the table with one man’s children inside me and the other man’s child at the table. I know a lot of women would have felt smug about that, you know, to get back at their ex in that way. But that’s not who I am as a person.”
“I know, darlin’, and that’s part of your beauty. It doesn’t mean you’re a doormat, it means you’re compassionate.”
“Right,” she agreed. “But I did face that awkward situation for Colby’s sake, and it was all thanks to you for making it happen. James and Tricia were very supportive as well. Having people who had my back made a huge difference and it’s something I’ve never had before. I can’t explain how that feels.” My chest tightened again when I thought how her life must have been with no one to turn to.
“Come on, let’s get you dried off and into bed before Colby comes back,” I said, breaking the moment because I knew she’d been in danger of going into herself again.
“Yes, dad,” she replied, and I snickered because I had sounded bossy when I said it.
* * *
A couple of days before I had to leave for the tour, I had cold feet about going away. What kind of husband or father was I if I did this? It felt as if I’d decided to put my bandmates before my family, when Billie, Colby, and my unborn babies should have been my priority.
At seven months pregnant Billie had looked exhausted and as if she’d been ready to give birth any day. Waddling around with swollen ankles, her back and legs ached from the weight of her belly. But for all my wife’s reserved nature, she was one stubborn fuck when it came to me wanting to drop out of the tour.
“You can’t do that to everyone. You made a commitment.”
“That was before all of this,” I reminded her, pointing to her abdomen, but she wouldn’t budge.
“All you’ll be doing is moping around here because I’ll still be going to work three days per week at the office,” she said, more forcefully than I think I had ever heard her. “Look, I’m having babies, Sawyer, not heart surgery,” she insisted, when she saw the dark look I gave her. “Go on your tour. Life here will continue as normal until you get back.”
“What about Colby … school … baseball—”
“James,” she said, cutting me off. “He said he’d take care of those duties while you’re gone, and Logan needs to step up too.”
“I don’t want him getting in your head while I’m gone.” She sat on the couch and stared up at me like I’d given her terrible news.
“Getting in my head? Who James or Logan? What exactly does that mean? Two of the three weekends you are gone Colby is with his dad, and Tricia has already marked those dates off on her calendar to come and stay with me.”
Despite her reassurance I had a knot in my stomach, but she kept explaining that other wives did this when their men went to work away from home.
“If you were a traveling salesman and we needed the money you’d still go to work,” she argued. But I wasn’t and we didn’t need money. The RedA band tour was fourteen dates, and for the first time in my life I hadn’t wanted to make music because I felt sick about leaving her behind.
The dichotomy for me was leaving James and Tricia in charge of ensuring Billie’s and Colby’s safety, as it had been less than a year since I’d begun to learn I could trust James, but I did. I was no fool, but knowing he was there for her to lean on if necessary, had given me a small amount of confidence I’d never have expected to have about him.
When the day finally came for me to leave, it had felt heart-wrenching. By the time I met up with the band in Cleveland after leaving my family behind, my mood rested between feeling pissed off and don’t fuck with me.
I’d left to tour with my band many times over the years, but this was the first time I had felt truly emotionally fragile. I was leaving people who needed me, but had another commitment to my band who also needed me.
I was thankful for James and oddly enough, despite our past relationship, I couldn’t think of any one person I trusted more to take care of Billie. And in the short time we’d been talking again I had realized we were more alike than either of us had known.
“Cheer up, you look like you need a good hard fuck to pull you out of those doldrums,” Wiggy said, by way of a dig.
I scowled. “I just want to get through this tour without any issues and get home to my family,” I informed him.
“Fuck me, I remember a time when being in a band used to be fun,” he shot back.
“And I remember a time when you weren’t suc
h a dick, now get the fuck out of my face while you’ve still got one.” Wiggy’s shocked eyes went huge and round, as he wasn’t used to me losing my shit with him. His head looked left and right as he stood and eyed the door like he’d been planning to run away at any second. I sighed.
“Just … leave it, Wiggy. I’m not in the mood for wisecracks today,” I muttered in a more measured tone.
“Wiggy,” Hammer called out, and I knew immediately he was distracting my annoying bandmate in the hope of defusing the situation between us. Luckily, Wiggy took Hammer’s cue and slowly wandered away from me, but this still hadn’t stopped him from mumbling a curse to himself.
Ignoring him, I had been in no mood for his crass immaturity, and I felt relieved we’d elected to stay in hotels for most of the time, because I’d had a feeling my patience with him had run out.
The tour arrangements by Valerie Docherty’s team were excellent, and we were well taken care of transport-wise. We had been scheduled to fly to most cities or had short helicopter hops for journeys to the next gigs within the same state. This had taken a lot of the stress out of the logistics of the tour for us, and we knew this would make us far more accessible for sound and equipment checks.
Being an opening act to a band like RedA had given us access to much bigger audiences and more time in one place than we’d previously had, due to the transport arrangements already made. It had also afforded us more space from one another, which in my case wasn’t a bad thing, given how I felt about missing home.
Being with the guys felt different. Strings appeared distant for a start, and his avoidance of Wiggy at every opportunity, gave me a vibe our days as a band had been numbered by Wiggy’s stint in rehab. The first four days had been full-on with us settling into our supporting role and there had been some time for a little socializing between RedA and our band.
It wasn’t only Strings who’d been nervous about us doing well, we all were. This was due to Wiggy who had drawn attention to himself from the moment we’d set foot in the first venue in Cleveland. Even by rock star standards he made a show of himself, and I saw something I thought I’d never see during this time, Hammer’s patience with our bandmate had worn thin.
“We need to talk,” he barked after I’d let him into my hotel room that evening after the gig.
“Shoot,” I said, as I gauged his tense body language and noted anger rolled off him in waves.
“Wiggy.”
“Fuck,” I cussed. “What now?”
“He needs a new sponsor.” I eyed Hammer carefully, unsure if he’d meant that due to his own substance misuse, but he looked sober and clean, bright-eyed and healthy.
“Because?” I asked, cautiously.
“Because the fucker is making me antsy … tense, and I figure if I don’t have a break from him, if he slips the fuck up and gets some shit, I might well join him in using it.”
“Okay, I’ll speak to Strings and we’ll take turns watching him. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good, but when we finish this tour, I’m thinking this needs to be longer term. He’s no good for me now, dude.”
“Buddy, you’ve got to think of yourself. If you aren’t feeling strong then it’s time to do what’s right for you.”
“As long as I know this arrangement with him is ending, I’ll be able to manage. It’s three weeks. I’ve got the will for that at least.”
From day one of the tour, Wiggy became a concern. Since Hammer’s disclosure, it had taken all of us acting as babysitters while we tried to prevent him from slipping back to his drug-fueled promiscuous ways. One night it had taken both Hammer and I working together to prevent him from hooking up with a young girl, who had clearly looked underage.
It was a great pity he had his heart set on self-destruction because his musical talent remained faultless, however as soon as the lights went down on a gig and the music died, we thought he was been fast becoming too hard to handle.
“Are you scared you’ll come up short if you fuck a real woman?” Strings spat, his hands on one arm as he freed the wrist of a young girl at a meet and greet. Our bandmate’s usually brown eyes were black with rage as they settled intently on Wiggy’s face.
“She wasn’t that young,” Wiggy shot back, raising an arm in the direction the young teen girl had gone. He had a wicked smirk on his face like he’d thought it all a joke, until Strings stood up and looked as if he had been going to beat him senseless.
Immediately, Hammer placed a hand on Strings forearm. “Dude. He’s not worth this.” he cautioned and shook his head, which immediately brought Strings back from his ‘red mist’ moment from being goaded by Wiggy.
Thankfully the incident never turned violent because Strings wasn’t a small man and looked around forty pounds of pure muscle heavier than Wiggy’s still drug ravished body. It would have been a bloodbath had he acted on his temper.
Quite apart from the fact it wouldn’t have been a fair fight, between us our morale as a band had been really low as well, and it would have done nothing for us to have our weedy-looking bass player hospitalized by our Herculean keyboard guy.
The only thing keeping me going during the tour was the times when we played on stage and the times when I spoke to Billie.
Talking to her made me more concerned. Our conversations had been short, due to time differences, mainly due to me spending my days with Wiggy. I had never felt so lonely in my life, considering the constant flow of people around me.
Time appeared to drag and by six days into the tour we had performed five dates in Cleveland. Strings, Hammer, and myself had viewed each day we’d gotten through without Wiggy fucking up as a bonus.
Arriving in Arkansas a little later than scheduled due to fog, we were thankful for the rest of the day off. I was beat and after a quick call to Valerie at her work, I crashed out in bed and slept for twelve hours straight.
After a much needed rest we were driven to the venue in Little Rock for sound checks. And the three concerts we did there went amazingly well. Tired but elated we were just about to leave night when Valerie Docherty approached me. I nodded toward her and when she smiled in return it was forced. I knew then and there something was seriously wrong.
“Can I have a word?” Valerie asked, placing her small hand on my forearm and steering me away from the others.
“Sure,” I agreed, but noticed the usual warmth in her tone from previous conversations had gone. “Sawyer, I’m just going to cut to the chase and save us all valuable time. We’ve loved your performances and the reviews have been great, your bass player on the other hand, not so much. He made a suggestive comment to one of my PAs the other day, and last night he hit on one of our permanent stage crew’s youngest daughters when her mother brought her to the gig, as our guest. She’s only fourteen years old.” Fuck.
“Jesus, I apologize, Valerie,” I mumbled, embarrassed to have been confronted on Wiggy’s behalf. “Don’t worry I’ll deal with this straightaway.”
“You may want to. The rest of you are great guys and we’ve enjoyed working with you. However, I’ve also lined up another warmup band for the second half of the tour, and I’ve decided to swap you out at the midway point, which means two more performances and that’s it. This has nothing to do with the rest of your band, but we cannot and will not be associated with someone like him out of duty to RedA’s young fans. As a goodwill gesture you will be recompensed for the whole tour at the rate we had discussed.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What can I say? I completely understand your position and I’m very sorry our band member has had such a negative effect on your tour.”
That time her smile felt warmer. “It’s really unfortunate because Flynn has loved spending time with you. Perhaps when this is over, and your wife has had her babies, we can do dinner sometime.” I gave her a small smile again. It may have been a terrible ending for the other guys, but I had what I wanted and felt glad to have an excuse to go home.
“I’d really like that. A
nd I apologize again on behalf of the band.”
* * *
“Relax your grip, you’ll kill him,” Hammer ground out, as his huge strong hand wrapped over Strings’. Caught in a stormy stare, I watched their silent, pointed exchange as a brief battle of wills passed between them. “Now,” Hammer barked again in an icy tone that matched the death glare he gave him. A cold shiver ran down my spine and I immediately regretted my decision to call them into my room for a meeting.
Strings’ volcanic reaction had been worse than anything we’d faced as a band before. It wasn’t unexpected since this had been a golden opportunity missed for him.
“He’d be better off dead. We’d be better off if we gave him a packet of blow and let him do himself in. This asshole has fucked up our future as a band. You think this isn’t going to get around?” Strings shot back with a growl, his teeth gritted, his jaw set in a grimace. His reddened face hovered so close to Wiggy’s they’d have breathed the same air had Wiggy’s airway not been occluded. The pressure of Hammer’s massive hand blanched Strings’ fingers, which were tightened like a vise around Wiggy’s neck.
Wiggy looked beyond help, his face a dark puce color, watering red-rimmed eyes bulged in fear and I knew I needed to act fast to stop him from going unconscious.
“Richard Maddison, do you really want to go to jail for this, because right now you are within a hair’s breadth of going down for murder!” I shouted in an even tone, which broke through the mayhem of the scene I’d been watching.
Everyone froze at my use of Strings’ proper name and the chilling statement I’d made, which had been precariously close to the truth. Strings immediately shoved Wiggy free from his grasp and Wiggy heaved violently as he took air into his lungs then coughed and spluttered when Hammer steered him onto a chair.
“I’m done. I’m out. DisKord, what a fucking name, couldn’t have chosen anything more apt for this shit. I’ll see you two around, as for this slimy fucker, I never want to set eyes on him ever again.” Without looking back, he opened my hotel room door, stepped out, and banged it closed behind him.
Dare Me, Part Two Dare Duet Sawyer and Billie: Unchained Attraction Series Page 30
