Rock Bottom

by K. Webster

  He laughs and swats my ass with his drumsticks. “When I finally have sex with you, woman, it will be in a bed where I can tie you down. Once I have you, I’ll never let you go.”

  I giggle as he guides me about fifteen feet inside. My laughter echoes off the walls of the underpass. Graffiti colors every square inch of the place, and I smile when I see a guitar pick sprayed on one wall with ‘VA’ inside—most likely for Vegas Aces. He releases my hand to drag some empty boxes, cans, and other trash around us. I watch with curiosity.

  “Okay, lady. Show me whatcha got.” He wiggles his drumsticks in the air and proceeds to spin them around his fingers in a showy fashion he clearly does onstage.

  “Showoff,” I mutter.

  When I go to sit on one of the buckets, he stops me by swatting it with his drumstick. The clack of it echoes into the darkness.

  “That, my lady, is a drum. Don’t sit on the drum. Get on your knees.” He chuckles with his double meaning.

  I flip him off. “Fine. But you owe me new jeans,” I whine as I fall to my knees in front of my ‘instruments.’

  He crosses his arms and waits with a cheesy grin on his face. “Play me a song.”

  I curl up my lip in disgust. There is no way I could play a song with drumsticks on trash.

  “This is dumb, Donnie.”

  He ignores my groans. “Play ‘Mary had a Little Lamb.’”

  And like a little kid playing on her momma’s pots and pans, I go at it, doing my best to recreate the children’s song. The noise blasts through the darkness and it sounds awful. When I finally stop, my ears are ringing and Donnie’s hysterical laughing bounces all over the place. Now that is music to my ears.

  “Smartass. If you think you can do better, have at it,” I sass and cross my arms.

  He kneels down in front of me and once again does his drumstick twirls. “Rub it in, brat.” His laughter is quick, but it dies down.

  I watch his face morph into what I would call a ‘zone.’ Without warning, he starts banging on the items in a crazy sequence, but almost instantly, the sounds are recognizable. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana is now blasting in the chamber. The music is thrilling, and I can’t help but feel the energy that is coursing through him as he plays the song. I watch in awe as he pounds away. When it’s over, I’m staring at him, openmouthed.

  “Donnie. I don’t know what to say. You are amazingly good at that,” I gush.

  He laughs and stands. “Not the only thing I’m good at,” he jokes.

  Oh, Donnie—always deflecting with his playful manner.

  Since he blew me away, I decide that it’s my turn. I may not be able to play drums, but I can tell that the acoustics will be badass for what I’m about to show off. Turning my back to him, I don’t hesitate and begin belting out “Rolling in the Deep” by Adele.

  And just like I knew it would, the music of my voice bounces beautifully off the cement walls. When the song really picks up, I hear him drumming in perfect cadence to the lyrics on his makeshift drum set.

  Together, we blast through the powerful song. When it’s over, I hear him toss the drumsticks, and moments later, his strong arms pull me in an embrace from behind. His mouth tickles my ear as he whispers, “Woman, you have talent. Why in the hell isn’t that voice being put to some good use besides helping strangers over the phone?”

  I turn to face him and peck his lips. “Maybe, one day—”

  My words are cut short when a noise from within the darkness snaps us both alert.

  “What was that?” I hiss.

  He presses his thumb to my lips. “Shh. Let’s go.”

  Bending over, he fetches both sets of the drumsticks and starts hauling me out of the tunnel by my wrist. With every step, my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. Every possible imagined scenario of what the noise was leads to the same conclusion.

  Zombies. I fucking knew it.

  We’ve barely emerged from the tunnel when we hear footsteps echoing through the darkness pounding after us.

  “Nora, run,” Donnie growls as he jerks me with him.

  As we run, I sneak a glance behind us. Three thugs are running after us—not flesh-eating humans but still dangerous looking nonetheless.

  “We’re not going to hurt you! We just want to talk!” one of them calls out. His voice is cold, and I immediately don’t trust it. Just the fact that he says that he won’t hurt us means he thought about it.

  “Don’t stop,” Donnie orders as we hike up the incline toward the fence.

  I’m panting and out of breath, but there’s no way in hell I’m stopping. When we reach the hole in the fence, he yanks at it and points me through. Once again, I awkwardly try to get to the other side, but as the footsteps near us, Donnie shoves me rather forcefully through. I know he’s trying to see to my safety, but he didn’t count on the metal to dig into my skin and claw me on my way out. Tears spring in my eyes, but I blink them back as I try to help him next. I ignore the blood that’s now seeping through my sweater.

  “Take these and go,” he commands, tossing me the keys.

  I scramble to my knees and dig the keys from the dirt. As he begins to come through the hole, the three guys make it to him. The assholes were liars, just like I thought, and they drag him back to their side.

  “Nora, go!”

  I’m blinking in shock because I’m torn. I want to help him, but there’s no way I’m a match to any of those three men.

  “Come here, baby. We just want to have some fun.”

  One of them punches Donnie hard enough in the stomach to send him dropping to his knees.

  “Stop it!” I shriek.

  My phone is in the car. But if I leave him alone with them, there’s no telling what they’ll do to him.

  “I want her,” one of the assholes growls and starts fumbling his way through the fence after me.

  Donnie, fast as lightning, grabs his ankle and forcefully yanks him back. The guy rips his arm on the same jagged metal I hurt myself on moments earlier. This earns Donnie a kick to the throat. His gasps scare the hell out of me.

  Quickly, I run over to the car and dive inside, locking the doors behind me. I root around until I find my phone on the floorboard to dial for help. The asshole who kicked my man has now made it through the hole and slams his hands on the window beside me. His eyes are a bit bloodshot—he’s probably high as hell or drunk. Either way, I’m glad I’m safely locked away from his perverted eyes that are devouring my body. When he licks his lips, I scream out in fear of what he’ll do should he bust open the window.

  Blue and red lights suddenly swirl around me. Thank fucking goodness. The thug bounces away from the window and pounds through the dirt toward the hole. I hear shouting from behind the car, and two officers rush past after him. The asshole slips through the hole back to the other side right as the cops reach him. He and his buddies disappear down the incline.

  “Donnie,” I cry out as I practically fall out of the car to get to him.

  The two officers have made their way to the other side of the fence and are squatting beside Donnie.

  “Is he okay?” I demand when I reach them.

  “Nora,” Donnie chokes out. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tears fill my eyes. He thinks this is his fault.

  “We constantly patrol this area to keep vandalism and illegal drug use at a minimum,” one of the officer tells me through the fence before sliding cuffs onto Donnie’s wrists. “Sir, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...”

  I fall to my butt in the dirt and watch helplessly as they arrest Donnie for trespassing.

  Arrested. Again. Twice in a matter of days. Talk about fucking ridiculous. I’m the world’s biggest fuck-up. Who brings such a perfect, precious woman to a ghetto-ass, dangerous drainage ditch for a date? Fuck-ups. That’s who.

  “Sir, you’re free to go. Again.” The stupid officer chuckles as he unlocks my cell and
guides me back down the corridor.

  We go through the same routine as last time. But this time, when I make it into the lobby, I’m nearly knocked over as Nora tackles me.

  She frantically kisses my cheeks and lips while her hands gently skitter up my chest and around my neck. “Are you hurt?” she asks between kisses.

  I don’t fucking deserve her.

  “No,” I mutter softly and wrap my arms around her. All I want to do is hold this woman—the woman who is much better off without me.

  “Ouch!” she yelps and wriggles free from my grasp.

  My brows furrow as I step back from her to see what’s wrong. As I look her over, my heart sinks. The dirty, disheveled, fucking bloody woman before me is not the woman I took to breakfast this morning. Her sweater is torn on one side and blood stains the fabric. I can see a bandage underneath. She got hurt while with me. Unfuckingreal. Dirt is smudged on pretty much every surface of her skin and clothes.

  I feel sick.

  “I hurt you?” I demand quietly.

  She glares at me. “The fence hurt me.” Her attempt to clarify and pull the blame from me only fuels my anger.

  “Let’s go,” I snap a little more harshly than I intended.

  “A thank-you is in order, I believe. And she’s not going anywhere with your sorry ass,” a deep voice grumbles from behind her.

  When I lift my eyes, I meet the angry ones of her father. “What’s he doing here?” I question, pointing at Stormy.

  Nora places a hand on each hip. I don’t miss the fact that she winces when she moves her injured arm. My fucking fault.

  “Someone had to bail you out and I’ve already maxed my credit card out bailing you out once before. I didn’t know what else to do,” she explains tearfully. She’s trying to maintain the fire inside, but she’s fucking upset.

  I made her that way.

  “This is fucked up,” I mutter in disbelief. How in the hell is she even standing here after all I’ve put her through?

  “It is, Donnie, but it will be okay. Can you please take me home now so I can shower?” she asks softly and approaches tentatively.

  I let her hug my middle but don’t hug her back. I don’t fucking deserve her at all.

  “Not happening, sunshine. There is no way in hell this monster is taking you anywhere else. Trouble follows his ass.”

  I glare at her father, but he meets my stare evenly. He knows he’s right. I know he’s right.

  “No. Donnie is taking me home, Dad. Now please go and I’ll catch up with you later. Thank you for helping me.” Her tone is firm.

  I expect him to argue. Instead, he shakes his head and points a finger at me.

  “If you really care about her, leave her the hell alone.” With that, he lives up to his name and storms off angrily, leaving me to mull over his words.

  Just days ago, this girl lived a happy life. A life where she wasn’t rescuing fucked-up rockers. A life where she wasn’t being pulled off stage by an asshole. A life where she didn’t have to run from paparazzi and spend the night on the floor of a breakroom. A life where she didn’t get chased by thugs.

  No, just days ago, she did whatever it is innocent girls like her do. And people like me shouldn’t taint that life.

  “Let’s go,” I sigh and stalk off toward the doors.

  She hurries to catch up with me and latches her uninjured arm around mine. “You can’t run away from me, Donnie,” she whispers.

  If she’s waiting for an answer, I don’t give her one. Instead, I let her guide me to the parking lot where she parked my car. Wordlessly, we get in and I make the short drive to her apartment complex. When we pull in and park, I don’t turn off the engine.

  She snaps her head over to me and her eyes mist over. “You aren’t coming up?”

  Guilt washes over me. I can at least walk her to her fucking door like a man. “I’ll walk you up,” I murmur and shut off the car.

  When I get out and make my way around the car, she once again tackles me with her affection. It’s hard not to pick her up and carry her straight into her apartment, finally doing what I know we’ve both wanted to do all day. Instead, I turn away mid-kiss and stride over to the elevator, hitting the up button.

  I feel her approach behind me. She doesn’t reach out for me or say anything as we enter the elevator. God, I’m the biggest fucking asshole on the planet. This girl wants me, but I’m no good for her.

  The elevator doors open and she follows me. After we reach her door, I turn to her as I wait for her to fish out her keys. But she isn’t digging for keys. She’s glaring at me with her arms crossed.

  “Donnie, you have to stop. You can’t let him get to you.”

  I know she thinks this is about her dad, but it’s more. It’s everything. I need a fucking drink.

  “Babe—fuck—Nora, this won’t work.”

  She shakes her head sadly at me. My eyes close when she approaches and slides her arms around my neck.

  “It will. We’ll make it work, Donnie.”

  I refuse to look her in the eye, but I can’t help that fact that I kiss her back when her soft lips brush against mine. She may be dirty as hell and look like she’s been through hell and back, but she still tastes so sweet.

  “You deserve better,” I assure her between kisses that are now getting deeper and longer. If she keeps kissing me this way, I may not be able to keep up my resolve. My cock is already hardening at the prospect of taking her in the shower.

  “I deserve you. You deserve me. Get that through your head,” she says breathlessly.

  My hands slide to her ass and I squeeze it. I want to deserve this woman. I’d do anything for her and I barely know her. Could we really make it work like she says?

  As we kiss, I inch my hands up, caressing every part of her body until I’ve safely made it around her gash and up her neck into her hair. Now, I simply cannot get enough of her. It’s selfish, I know, but I fucking need her.

  “Make love to me,” she moans out between kisses.

  The phrase feels foreign. I fuck. I certainly don’t make love. Well, at least not yet. But tonight, I’ll do whatever the fuck she wants. If she wants me to make love, well by God, Donnie Jennings is going to make love for the first time ever.

  I’m three seconds from ripping her sweater from her body when her apartment door swings open. On instinct, I protectively turn her away from the door and come eye to eye with a preppy motherfucker. The asshole is wearing a Polo shirt with the collar popped up. What a douchebag.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he demands.

  My chests feels like exploding. Does she have a fucking boyfriend?

  “Jansen, chill out. This is my—this is Donnie,” she sputters out. “Donnie, this is my ex-fiancé, Jansen.”

  Even though she emphasizes the ex part, I’m overwhelmed with rage. Turning to her, I question her with my eyes. She pulls away from me and clutches my hands with hers.

  “He keeps showing up, but we are nothing. I want you.”

  I’m still trying to process her words when he starts cussing up a storm.

  “Nor, what the fuck did he do to you? I thought you said he was harmless? First he yanks you off stage, and now this? You’re covered in blood, your clothes are disgusting, and you’re hurt!” Jansen is pissed, and I suddenly feel like he has every right to be.

  I did this to her.

  When I glance back at her, my eyes peruse her body. She looks like a fucking zombie. I made her this way.

  “I’m sorry, little lady,” I mumble out as I back away from her.

  “No, sir. Don’t you dare leave me.” She’s crying as she reaches for me.

  I jerk away and continue retreating from her. “Yes. I’m so sorry. You deserve better. Someone like him,” I bite out against my wishes.

  The last vision I have before turning my back on her is Jansen enveloping her in a comforting hug as she sobs.

  Fuck.

  My.

  Life.

  Th
e ride home was a blur. With every mile I put between Nora and me, my head went deeper and deeper into a dark place I wasn’t sure I could ever come back from. Right now, the idea of disappearing into the darkness far away from life sounds pretty fucking amazing.

  When I pull into my driveway and see my Dad’s car, I groan.

  “Fucking great,” I grumble under my breath.

  I heave out a sigh of frustration as I turn off the car and get out to face the man who hates my guts. Can this day get any better?

  “Donald,” he greets coldly from the bench on my porch.

  “Dad.”

  “We need to talk.”

  I refrain from rolling my eyes as I stomp past him and into the house. “What’s there to talk about, Dad? I’m a fuck-up. End of story.”

  He silently follows me inside and closes the door behind him. When he doesn’t speak, I turn to face him and find him eyeing me wearily.

  “Son, you aren’t a fuck-up. You just need help.” His voice is soft almost. Do I detect a hint of caring? My mind cannot deal with this confusing shit.

  “What’s there to talk about?” I growl.

  He sighs. “Well, Donald, when you had to be whisked away by the woman you supposedly assaulted, it created a media frenzy. When the two of you disappeared without any sort of correspondence with your friends and family, people assumed the worst. Then, you show up on the radar by getting arrested again. The girl was a goddamned mess. People think you, now a menace to society, have corrupted little Miss Sunshine herself. It’s a media nightmare, Donald. I think it’s high time to start thinking about where you’re going from here.”

  I frown and look down at my dirty jeans and shoes. Have I really corrupted the only ray of sunshine in my life?

  Then I hear commotion at the front door. I roll my eyes when Bobby, Chaz, and Ryan come bursting in. Ryan immediately runs over to me and envelops me in one of her sisterly hugs.

  “Oh, Donnie. What have you done?” she whispers into my chest.

  I bite my lip because sissy-fucking-Bobby tears prickle my eyes. Swallowing down the emotion of having one of my best friends in my arms again, I stroke her long, blond hair.