Rocked Up: A Novel

by Karina Halle

I guess she did notice.

  “What?”

  “What is it with guys doing that?”

  “I didn’t flex…”

  “Ha ha, sure, I bet you’re not even capable of me touching you without having to flex your muscles.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Okay then, let’s see.”

  We stop walking and face each other smiling like children, her a taunting bully and myself a defiant rebel. We are on a street just off of Bourbon that is considerably less busy, in fact for the moment we are the only ones on the block. We can see Bourbon Street, people look like flowing technicolored water. The sun is shining on us between two old Victorian buildings.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as Lael holds eye contact, an impish smile on her lips as she puts her hand under my shirt. Her touch makes me feel light, her face relaxes and so does mine. With her hand now on my chest I kiss her slowly. I run my hand up her back, and down to her ass hooking my thumbs under her tight jeans. I pull her in, pressing her against me, letting her feel everything. Her hands slide around and clasp behind my neck. I leave one hand on her bum, pulling her in, and slide the other up her back. We are perfectly tangled, trying to make contact with as much of our bodies as possible.

  Her room or mine? It doesn’t matter.

  We kiss. Our tongues wrestle as we push into each other as much as possible. My eyes are closed and I am lost in the moment, Lael is hanging off of me so I put one hand on the cold brick wall to balance myself.

  Lael pulls away and gives me a questioning look.

  “What” I ask, breathless already.

  “I can tell you hold back with me.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trying not to sound impatient.

  “It’s because I am younger or something.”

  “Hold back?” I repeat.

  “The way you handle me is too gentle. You know you won’t break me, Brad.”

  “Too gentle? Jesus, that’s one I haven’t heard before.”

  “You don’t have to be like that with me, sometimes sweet is nice, but not always,” Lael says.

  I smile at her, enjoying this conversation. “Okay, so what do you want right now, soft or hard?” I kiss her again.

  “Come on.” Lael pulls me into an alley, we walk past fire escapes and some crates, then the narrow alley takes a hard turn to the right and comes to a dead end. We are surrounded by brick walls and there are a network of pipes in front of us.

  I know what game she’s playing and I am more than willing to play. Although, she does seem to be taking off her clothes which is something that’s taking me by surprise. I assumed in situation like this, high noon in an alleyway, we would keep on as much clothing as possible. I would unzip she would shimmy her jeans down and we would make quick work of it. But, this gal is standing in front of me completely naked on top of her pile of discarded clothing.

  She’s completely exposed.

  She’s completely stunning.

  In the severity of clear daylight, her body seems hyperreal and it takes me a good few moments to realize what’s going on.

  I’m the fucking luckiest guy in the world.

  “Hard,” Lael says as she turns around and grabs hold of a pipe to keep her steady.

  Even though I’m slack-jawed at how naked she is in front of me, I’m more than ready to take her. I kiss her neck as I unzip. Slowly, effortlessly, I fall into her. Lael takes my hands that are on her breasts and puts them on her hips.

  “You can’t hurt me, remember,” she says, her voice throaty. “Hold me tight, fuck me. This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

  I hold tight and put her young body to the test. If sex is music, this is punk rock, fast, explosive, to the point…and less than two minutes long. Her body is beautiful and perfect in the contrast of this dingy alley. A narrow ray of sunshine shines in through the buildings, highlighting beads of sweat on her chest. If sex is a car racing, this is a drag race, pedal to the floor and getting to the finish line as fast as possible.

  I’m close to the finish line and she can feel it. She pushes into me with a moan, we briefly make eye contact, her expression primal, wild.

  “Come inside me, baby.” Her heavy eyes are still on mine.

  Her words take me to the edge. I hold tight and somehow I’m able to move faster and harder.

  My race car crosses the line, the punk rock song comes to an end.

  “Fucking hell,” she swears, the race car rolls to a stop and the guitars of the punk rock song stop ringing out. I barely hear her. My heart is pounding too loudly in my head.

  But I can’t stay inside her forever, not here. I zip up.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says with a smile as she quickly slips her clothes back on. “Especially with you.”

  I’m trying to catch my breath, reality is sinking in and I’m amazed at what just happened. I can hear the sounds of the city funneling into the alley where we are.

  “Ew, look at my hands.” She holds them up to show how dirty they are from hanging on to the pipes. “Okay, back to the hotel to clean up.” She marches past me as if what just happened was totally run of the mill for her. I take one last look at the scene of the crime before I follow her back to civilization.

  The hotel is only a few short blocks away and so it’s not long before we’re in my hotel room. Lael is in the shower while I drink a coffee by the window, lost in my thoughts. They’re a bit scattered, considering what just happened in that alley, but they keep coming back to one thing: I like my life with Lael in it. Even though it’s been a short time since the day she picked me up from the airport, I’m having a hard time imagining life without her in it.

  “Get in here, Snyder!” Lael shouts from the bathroom.

  I put down my coffee, undress, and join her in the shower.

  “C’mon in, dirty boy,” she says, wagging her finger at me seductively.

  She looks beautiful. All her make-up is washed off and her wet hair is pushed back off her face, her smile genuine.

  “Let’s see those hands, you dirty girl,” I tell her, playing along.

  Lael holds up her clean hands for inspection and gives a childish proud smile.

  “I bet you like it when I’m a dirty girl,” she says playfully.

  Damn. This is something else. It’s a sunny day in the French Quarter and here I am with this stunning young woman, smiling and laughing in the shower.

  I’m happy.

  I’m actually happy.

  “Can you go again?” she asks, mimicking her early position, only this time her hands are on the clean pipes of the fancy shower.

  I don’t answer. I turn her around so her bum is pressing into me and I show her I can.

  When shower time is over, I wrap her in a towel.

  “You realize we were supposed to be at sound check ten minutes ago,” I tell her.

  “Oh shit,” Lael says putting her hands to her face.

  “Don’t worry about it, it will be fine,” I assure her. I don’t want her to regret anything we just did.

  Knock, knock.

  The door practically rattles off the hinges.

  “That doesn’t sound like housekeeping,” I say warily as I walk out of the bathroom and across the room.

  Knock Knock.

  The door rattles with each hit.

  I look though the peephole and turn to Lael.

  “It’s your dad.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brad

  Lael is standing as still as a deer and ready to run to at any moment. I look through the peep hole again and see Ronald’s ugly distorted face.

  “He’s still there!” I whisper to her. “Hide!”

  Lael scurries into action like an animal seeking escape and heads into the bathroom.

  “No, under the bed,” I say as I lift the sheet overhanging to the floor only to find no space at all. I glance up to see Lael climbing out of the window to the fire escape in her house coat and a towel on her head.

>   “Are you nuts?” I protest and investigate what she’s stepping out onto. The fire escape is small, high up and like many things in the French Quarter, old and rusty.

  Knock Knock Knock.

  “I know you’re in there, open the door!” Ronald shouts.

  With her dancer’s grace, Lael steps out on to the landing with ease and ducks out of view.

  I close the curtains and walk to the door, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly with my hand on the dead bolt.

  Click.

  I open the door.

  “Ronald, what brings you to New Orleans?” I ask as surprised and casual as possible.

  He doesn’t answer. With a bunch of papers in hand, Ronald walks right past me into my room and his two henchmen follow. He looks around the corner to where the bed is, opens the closet door, and the checks the bathroom.

  “Where is she?” he finally asks, turning around.

  “Who?” I answer.

  Ronald takes a step closer to me invading my space, letting me know he didn’t like my answer.

  “I just got back from the venue, I thought I would find you there for sound check. I thought I would find Lael too, funny how both of you are taking the day off. I gave you specific instructions Brad. Very specific. Don’t tell me you’re crossing the lines with my daughter, so help me god.”

  “What, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Ronald slams a fistful of magazines on the table. They fan out and I can see Lael and myself on the covers of them all. One of the pictures is framed in the shape of a heart. I’m amazed how fast they went to print.

  “That looks worse than it is Ronald, you know how they can manipulate things,” I tell him. He of all people should know this.

  “I said no press for Lael and I find out she’s going to be on the cover of the damn Rolling Stone next month? You see, Brad, this is supposed to be temporary, and what is happening here is that you are taking advantage of a young and impressionable girl that looks up to you.”

  Ronald points his finger in my face.

  I try to speak but Ronald cuts me off. “You are putting me in a position here, this is something you have created. I’m left with no choice.” Ronald lets his words hang in the air, my attention goes to his security guards in matching suits behind him.

  Holy shit. Am I about to be roughed up?

  “Look, Brad, people disappear all the time,” he says slowly, his voice remaining casual even though I know the intention is anything but. “If something happened to you, my god, could you imagine, it would be horrible. I mean, your album sales would probably enable me to retire, but what a loss it would be. Those magazines would have full page stories on you. Lael would be devastated I’m sure. But then you know what would happen Brad? Time would pass. How long do you think it would take for you to be forgotten – to truly disappear? Faster then you think my friend, within weeks it would be like you never existed and I would buy a fucking boat.”

  He’s speaking so calmly, so coolly, that I know I have to take him seriously.

  “Are you threatening me?” I ask.

  “You should know better than anyone that the world is not safe, people are not good. I am a very dangerous man, Brad. The truth is I don’t like you, you were street kid when I met you and you still are. I can see it in your eyes – what you really are. I don’t want you to be with my daughter, and I don’t want my daughter to be in your band. Whatever is going on with you and Lael stops now. If it wasn’t for the press having interest in Lael playing in the band I would pull her out right now. But, as it is, she will have to finish the tour.”

  Ronald walks to the window and I can feel my heart rate increase, he continues to speak to me even though I’m looking at his back.

  “You do have something in common with her. You know what that is, Brad? I created both of you. Think about it, the last ten years of your life, there’s nothing that is not because of me. I know what’s best for her and what happens in the next ten years of her life will be because of me too. Only she can’t know that. So I need to let nonsense like this tour happen sometimes so she feels like she has some control. Even though nothing could be farther from the truth. And you, Brad, you are not a part of the plan.”

  Ronald turns to face me and smiles like a salesman, opens his arms with innocence and changes his tone.

  “Alright kid, are you feeling ready for the big show tonight?”

  “What?” I’m completely baffled. He’s gone from mob boss to little league coach faster than I can blink.

  “I have some business to take care of so I will see you there. Break a leg.” Ronald points to my leg, which kind of takes away from the figurative nature of the expression.

  He walks to the door and one of his security guards opens it for him. Before leaving he winks at me and says, “I’m sure you will do what is right and we can get past this.”

  Ronald leaves the room and his thugs follow. I turn to the window expecting to see Lael climbing back into the room but the curtain waves in the breeze and she’s not there. Leaning out the window, I see her sitting on the platform with her back against the wall.

  “Hey,” I say, resting on the window’s edge.

  “I’ve never heard him talk like that about me before,” she says looking pensively to the sky.

  I don’t know what to say, we both need time to process, but she should be inside.

  “Come inside,” I tell her.

  “I can ruin everything for you. I think I already have,” she says, ignoring my suggestion.

  “You know that’s not true.” I hate hearing this from her.

  “I think it is true,” she says shaking her head and then climbs through the window. Once she’s inside, she looks up at me, her eyes full of emotion and frustration. “He has the next ten years of my life planned out, what’s that all about?” She sighs heavily. “Look, maybe I should walk away from all of this, you, the band, my father, everything,” Lael says with an air of defeat.

  Something inside me is expecting her to leave. I’ve been falling for her carelessly and now I will pay the price. History is repeating itself. I try to imagine her walking out the door and never seeing her again and I can’t bare the idea.

  I reach out and grab her, needing her now more than ever.

  “Don’t do that,” I whisper to her, trying to meet her eye. “I need you. I need you tonight on stage, I need you for this tour…”

  She doesn’t respond. Instead, she begins to get dressed and I sit down. I’m not afraid of Ronald but I will never underestimate him. He owns the rights to all my work. I’ve been told that even if I leave he will profit off of anything I do in the future. I don’t own my property, I don’t own my cars.

  My life is a house of cards.

  Ronald was right about one thing though – I’m still the same street kid he met a decade ago. Even after all these years I have not lost the sense of who I am. I don’t need these luxuries, and try as he may, I will always have a fan base and a career. I’m afraid of nothing, except one thing: Lael walking.

  “You must regret messing with the boss’s daughter now,” Lael says, standing in front of me with her hands tucked into her pockets of her sexy leather pants that she’s put on for the show.

  “I regret nothing,” I tell her, standing up. “And I’m not afraid of your father. You got that? So – let’s make this a show to remember.”

  “Alright, alright,” she says, her head hanging for a moment. Then she looks up at me, fire in her eyes. “Let’s do it.”

  ***

  Backstage is a beehive of activity, a show with multiple acts like this one always is. Lael and I fight through the narrow halls trying to find someone from our crew to guide us. Even though many of the people lining the hall greet me as a friend, I don’t recognize them. Finally, I see just the man I’m looking for.

  “Arnie!” I shout to get his attention.

  “You two twits nearly gave me a heart attack,” Arnie answers then loo
ks at his watch. “You’re on next, you literally have ten minutes before you hit the bloody stage, let’s go, the other lads are waiting for ya.”

  I look back at Lael and we exchange smiles as if we are mischievous children. There is no band playing at the moment, only the rumbling sound of thousands of people. The smell of leather jackets, cigarettes, pot, and smoke machines lingers in the air.

  I live for these moments. I feel like I belong. The air is electric and it lights me up when it fills my lungs. Arnie leads us to a corner where Switch and Calvi are waiting. It’s normal to not have a proper dressing room for this type of gig.

  “Look who decides to show up,” Calvi says shaking his head in disapproval.

  “Boys,” I say, greeting them casually.

  Switch is artfully combing back his hair seemingly unconcerned by our late arrival but his eyes look past me with concern, which causes me to turn around and see who has his attention.

  Ronald is walking toward us with another tall grey-haired man in a suit. Ronald stops and stands with his back to me in a disrespecting way.

  “John, I want you to meet my daughter Lael,” Ronald says pointing to her like she’s a piece of meat on the menu. “You are going to do great tonight, sweetheart.”

  Lael gives a peculiar smile and puts her attention back to our guitar tech.

  Ronald doesn’t take notice of her dismissiveness and moves on with his acquaintance.

  I try not to let him bother me. I can see my guitar on the rack, I can see the route to the stage from where I stand – for me the show has already begun. I have learned when to change, when to become selfish and become that other version of myself that takes over for the show. It can’t happen too early, there are too many people ready to make judgments. If I ignore someone’s smiley hello it could have repercussions, for all I know they could have millions of followers and my dismissive reaction would turn into a long article of how awful I have become. Then their millions of followers would copy and paste to others who would copy and paste, comment, destroy.

  I know better, learned a trick or two. When I’m in a large room full of people who want to talk to me, and it’s impossible to connect with each of them, I make sure to connect with only a few. Not in a fake way, there are always interesting people to talk to. I look into one person’s eyes and ignore the rest of the room. I don’t try to make eye contact with everyone, only who I’m speaking to. I know the rest of the room is watching my every move, secretly wanting me to mess up so they can have a story to tell. As long as I treat who I’m speaking to with respect, it’s noticed by everyone else in the room.