I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that this conversation would have to wait until I was sober and on the road, because CJ wasn’t texting me back. I got up and put away the whiskey, then headed to the bathroom and changed into the t-shirt I was going to sleep in and brushed my teeth. I was a bit lightheaded but knew I’d be sober enough in the morning. What few aftereffects I would feel I could sleep off on the bus.
I’d no sooner switched off the bathroom light, headed to my bedroom, when I heard my phone. The ring tone—“Doll Parts” by Hole—told me it was CJ. As I answered the phone, the song started circling through my head, reminding me of how bad I hurt when I was with CJ and how I just felt like a thing. Love wasn’t supposed to make me hurt—at least, not like that. I should have felt fulfilled and cherished but I didn’t…and it was time to love myself.
I didn’t realize at the time that this conversation would start out like so many I’d had with CJ before. How many times in the past had I been drinking and decided to give him a piece of my mind, only to acquiesce later? I think, in the back of my mind, I was aware of that tendency about myself.
I needed to be strong.
So, when I picked up the phone, I said, “CJ, I can’t see you anymore.”
“What?”
“I said I can’t see you anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. We’re through.”
“Have you been drinking?” Oh, God, yes. I had become that obvious and predictable. But I was going to be a pain in the ass about it anyway.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything. Maybe you can call me in the morning.”
“No. We’re going to talk now and then we’re done.”
“I’ll meet you at the bus like we’d planned.”
My voice grew stern. “No, you won’t.” He was quiet for a few seconds. Ah, good. I’d gotten his attention. “CJ, I can’t do this anymore. You’re with stupid what’s-her-name while fucking me, and I can’t do it another day. I can’t share you with anyone else anymore.” I felt hot tears well up in my eyes as my emotions overtook me.
“Kyle, I think this is a conversation better had in person—and I can’t come over there right now. I—”
“Goddammit, CJ. I love you and you’ve just used me and abused me all these years, and I’m sorry. I won’t just sit here by my phone and wait for you to call or wait for you to come over, feeling like my whole self-worth revolves around you.” And then, as if it would make perfect sense, I said, “I don’t want the car anymore. I’m returning it.” You know, the salesman reference? Yeah…the one I’d never shared with CJ, so he had no fucking idea what I was ranting about. I heard him talking, saying a lot to me, but I couldn’t let myself be sold another bill of goods. This was the best move for myself, and it was happening at the best time possible. It was time to break it off with CJ—because, in spite of the fact that in some ways he was good for me, he was not good for the most important part of me…and I had to take care of myself. “Goodbye,” I said, ending the call.
And then I turned off the phone. I normally used it as an extra alarm, but I couldn’t risk having CJ call. I needed my sleep and I needed to cut it off with him—completely. Maybe I’d talk to him from Tennessee or something, when I was far away from his influence and he couldn’t get to me easily.
But I had to end it. Here. Now. Forevermore.
Chapter Thirty-two
MY REGULAR ALARM clock went off way too early.
Well, it felt like it at any rate, but the damn thing went off for the time I’d scheduled it—three AM. The band, Mollie, and I were meeting at the bus at five so we’d be to our destination by late afternoon for our first show that evening somewhere in Texas. We had so damn many shows booked that, even though I’d read through the itinerary, I couldn’t remember where we were scheduled when. I just knew that throughout the summer and fall, we were going to be all over the U.S.
I stretched and stumbled toward the kitchen. My mouth was a little cottony, the result of drinking too much whiskey just hours earlier. Stupid. Maybe by the time I was thirty, I would learn. I wasn’t too terribly hung over and definitely not drunk anymore, but I wasn’t ready to run a marathon. I’d have to drink a lot of water and get plenty of rest on the bus. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d done it, but I was getting old enough to know better.
I made some coffee and leaned against the countertop as I waited for it to finish. Once it was done, I poured myself a cup and doctored it so it turned beige and sweet and then headed to the bathroom where I took a long hot shower. After shampooing and soaping, I just stood there, letting the beads of water beat my back, and I realized that I had made a major move the night before. In spite of the fact that there was an ache inside the pit of my stomach, I was proud of myself. I’d finally stood up for myself, grown a backbone where CJ was concerned, and done the right thing.
Yeah, I knew I’d never have another lover like him.
I knew I’d never, ever love another man like I did him.
Yes, I still loved him. Desperately. Dangerously. Deeply.
But I had made the right move.
Still, I felt like a recovering surgery patient. It would take days, weeks, months, maybe years for me to feel like I was returning to normal. Now was the best time, though. I’d be distracted by fans and stages, interviews and Billboard charts, bright lights and my screaming guitar. The buzz around our album was crazy and it was hitting the shelves the following Tuesday. Presales of the album and MP3 sales of “Ecstatic”—as well as airplay this week since the single had released—were already high, so, just as I’d predicted, I knew this album was going to be my best yet. I had to ride that wave and let it be a reminder as to what was most important in my life. It was certainly not a man and definitely not a guy who couldn’t treat me right.
I just wished I could shake the empty feeling inside.
I went through my usual morning routine with a slightly numb sensation, but that was okay. Better to feel numb than the pain that was just underneath it. I tried to act like everything was normal as I put on my makeup and blow dried my hair, pretending it was just another day. It was dark outside still but when I turned off the blow dryer, I heard the sound of birds outside. That was a good sign, right? With a new day, I had another chance, a better chance to make things right, to make a new life for myself. A new day was dawning.
I’d already done most of my packing the day before, and my music stuff was already packed up and gone. I simply had to bring a few things from home. I needed to be sure to put things in my bag as I used them, although it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I forgot my toothbrush or conditioner. I could always buy replacements on the road. Right now, though, I wanted the comfort of the familiar. I’d need it in the days ahead until I could block CJ out of my mind entirely.
I slid my phone in my back pocket—still off—and the charger in the front pouch of my luggage, and then tucked my keys in my front pocket, double checking that everything in my apartment was off. Then I pulled the handle out of my luggage, wheeling it behind me, and shut off the living room light before pulling the door closed, making sure it was locked. I’d see my apartment in a few months, but I had no special attachment to it. It had never been a beloved place, so I wasn’t heartbroken to leave it.
Which underscored the heartbreak I was really starting to feel.
But, I told myself as I walked down the stairs to the bottom floor, I couldn’t let it affect me. I would get over it. I thought back to the instance of the only other boy I’d ever loved (but one I’d assured myself I had not), Decker, and knew that the best way for me to forget was through the music. And I was getting ready to do my music in the biggest way possible.
It was still dark outside although the sky was beginning to show signs of dawn—no trace of stars anymore and a hint of blue was on the horizon—but even in the dead of night, it wouldn’t have been so dark that I cou
ldn’t see the person standing in front of my car in the parking lot. I felt a rush, a panic, wondering what the hell that someone was doing, and I paused, getting ready to fetch my phone out of my pocket in case I needed to make a call.
But then I realized it was CJ leaning against the hood.
What the hell was he doing here? Was he here to weaken my tenuous resolve? I clenched my jaw. I absolutely could not give in, not again. It would kill me. No matter how addicted to him I was, no matter how drawn to him…I had to resist. I continued walking toward him and, once I was a few feet away, asked, “What are you doing here, CJ?”
I couldn’t see his face in the dim light. I wasn’t that close yet. But I could hear the tension in his voice, even though he was trying to sound lighthearted. “Well, I was gonna see you off at the bus but figured I’d meet you here first.”
I swallowed. Jesus, this was harder than I would have thought. “What do you want?”
“I want to ask you something.” I paused in front of him, still grasping the handle of my luggage.
God, what could it be? Did I even want to listen or did I want to refuse and send him on his way? I sighed. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was a risk I was willing to take. “Shoot.”
“You said something to me last night that you never have before.”
I tried to remember thought my haze what the hell all I’d said the night before to him on the phone. Maybe… “What? That we’re over? For good?”
He stopped leaning against my car and stood up. “No.” He took two steps closer to me. “You said you love me.”
I felt my face blanch. I’d said it? Not that it mattered. It was true, completely true, and if he hadn’t figured it out before, he was a damn fool. But I was hurting—and confessing my feelings for him only left me even more vulnerable than I’d been before. Now he knew for a fact that I was easily exploitable. “Yeah, so?”
He stood right in front of me and took my face in his hands. “I love you, Kyle.” And, before I could protest or try to resist, his lips met mine in an explosion. It was a hell of a kiss. “I’ve loved you for a long time, girl, but I never thought the feeling was mutual.”
I felt like he’d hit me in the chest with a bowling ball. “What? How could you not?”
“Lots of reasons—but I pretty much figured it was one-sided when you moved into your own place.”
I shoved against him, breaking his hold on me. That shit pissed me off. “I only did that because I didn’t think you cared.”
“Oh, Kyle. What did I ever do to make you feel that way?”
I raised my eyebrows. Maybe, in the ever-lightening morning sky, he’d be able to appreciate the effect. If not, the tone of my voice would take care of that. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe fuck everything with two legs and a skirt while you were on tour.”
He laughed. “That was years ago.”
I felt my fluttery insides start to simmer down, as though a down pillow had been ripped open but all the little feathers were close to landing on the floor. Then my ears started ringing, convincing me that none of this could be true. “When’s the last time you slept with someone on tour?”
“Kyle, even though we were apart for a long time, I stopped doing it after you moved in with me.”
Oh, fucking hell. It felt like the goddamned dirt underneath me was collapsing, and I was getting ready to fall into a sinkhole. “You—what?”
He nodded. “I quit having sex on the road from that tour on. When you moved in with me, I thought that was it. We were together, in a committed relationship. You and me. Just you and me.”
I wanted to beat on his chest with my white-knuckled hands but instead I let out a long breath and let my fists clench and unclench by my side. I couldn’t help the raised tone of my voice, though. “But you never said that!”
His voice was quiet again. “I guess I should have been more vocal, huh?”
“Yes! Jesus Christ, yes. I can’t read your mind, CJ.”
He chuckled. “Can’t read yours either, Kyle.” He got close to me again, but I wasn’t going to return the embrace; in fact, I was struggling against him…until he smothered my mouth with his lips, and then I couldn’t help but give in. This man…he loved me. Fucking loved me. Oh, holy shit. When the hell had that happened?
“How long?”
“How long what?”
“When did you fall in love with me, CJ?”
He smiled then, a small, wistful smile, and his dark eyes twinkled. “I thought I might be falling in love when you were seventeen and we had our first date at the bowling alley. I was for sure the first night we made love.” I smiled back at him. Holy shit. That long? How the fuck had I missed that? “What about you?”
I blinked and thought back over the years CJ had been the only guy for me. I had fallen in lust with him immediately but love? That was tough. Our first kiss? No. “I think it might have been our first date for me too.” When he let go of me, I had half a million things I wanted to say and ask but all that would come out of my mouth was, “What about your girlfriend?”
“What girlfriend?”
“Ms. Hollywood Boob Job.”
He started laughing hard then and pulled me close again. “When she got back on the plane, we parted as friends.”
Could I believe him? “Does she know that?”
More laughter. “Yes. It was all weird anyway.” He squeezed me, pulling me close. “Kinda like you and Zimmer.”
I frowned. “Yeah, that was kinda weird.” I sighed. “I gotta go, CJ. I can’t be late. We play our first show tonight and we’ve got miles and miles of rubber to lay first.” That…and I was having a hard time believing any of this was real. “Maybe we could talk tonight after the show?”
“Or…I could hitch a ride.”
“I thought you guys were recording soon.”
He let a huff of air out of his mouth. “Not for at least a month. Glock’s still fucking around with the lyrics.”
“I thought you guys were practicing last night.”
“No. Why’d you think that?”
“I dunno.”
“We were playing poker and partying our asses off. Till you called.”
“Why till then?”
He ignored my question and said, “You’re driving? You don’t have a cab picking you up?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just do as I’m told.”
CJ started laughing, harder than I’d heard him that morning, and I saw a light flip on in a downstairs apartment. I didn’t know if our talking was waking up the neighbors or if it was just their time to get up, but I knew we needed to be quiet. “Kyle Summers, the original rebel, just doing as she’s told. That’ll be the day.” He kept laughing.
“So why did you stop playing last night when I called?”
His face sobered as he grabbed the handle of my luggage and started walking around to the back of the car. “You sounded damn serious, Kyle.”
“I was damn serious.” I unlocked the trunk and he threw the bag in.
“So I spent the rest of the night sobering up and walking over here.”
“You walked?”
“Yeah…what better way to get rid of excess alcohol?”
“I prefer sleep.”
“Well…I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d gotten on that bus without…”
I slapped my hand on his neck and pulled his face to mine. I touched my forehead to his and looked in his eyes. “You don’t have to. And, for the record, I’d love to have you with me on tour. This is gonna be my best fucking tour yet, and I want to share it with the man I love.”
“That has a nice damn ring to it.”
“Yeah, it does.”
He gave me a soft kiss on the lips and then said, “You don’t want to be late, remember?”
I shrugged. “What’re they gonna do? Leave without me?”
“That might be kind of embarrassing.”
I grew serious then and ran my fingers a
long his cheek, feeling the stubble prickle my fingers. “I don’t want this moment to end.”
He smiled. “We got forever, babe. It’ll never end.” And, with that, I let him drown me in a kiss before I went to meet my kick ass destiny.
Epilogue
I SUPPOSE YOU’RE all wondering what happened to all the friends I met along the way on my journey to becoming a respected name in metal. I guess it wouldn’t be very nice of me to leave you hanging…so here you go.
Kelly. My sweet friend Kelly, our former bassist, got married and moved to Montana, where she opened her own office practicing veterinary medicine. Why Montana? She told me she wanted the big country—big sky and big land. Oh, and her future husband had family there, so that might have had a little to do with it. Last I talked with her she had a little girl and another baby on the way.
John Smith. Mr. Big Shot actor has continued to appear in blockbuster movies, and I have no doubt you’ve seen plenty of them. He’s currently in his first serious relationship since breaking big. I think he finally found someone who likes his particular brand of lovemaking, maybe a true submissive. Good for him. Just reaffirms my belief that there’s someone for everyone—but I was definitely not his girl.
Eddie. Yeah, this guy. At the time the guy had seduced me, he’d made me feel special, but turned out the dude’s a serial perv. He perped on an underage pop star about six months ago and got his ass slammed in jail. I think they’re trying to settle out of court, but the guy will probably get some jail time.
Andrew. Poor Andrew. I kind of feel sorry for him nowadays. Last I knew, he was manager of a local fast food burger joint in Colorado Springs. He’s been in and out of rehab, but I think he’s been doing a lot better since attending NA on a regular basis. Here’s hoping he gets his life together. Having a real job where he has real duties can’t hurt.
On the Rocks Page 20
