Save Me: A TAT Novella

by Melanie Walker

  That stench killed everything and no Fabreeze, Glade candles or Clorox Clean Up would do it.

  Shit destroyed everything in its path…including my best friend and brother-in-law.

  I stood in awe looking at the drawings on the walls, the platinum records, the painting Candey gave him, but I kept going back to his art. His true gift. Fucker could play the bass and I would argue there was no one greater, but his niche was in art. It was in his blood and bones and sweat and tears. I tattooed beside him for years and never once did I see the same gleam in his eye on a stage, as I did in his 10X10 booth at Slave to the Needle.

  Cal and Tay get there separately and there is no denying the minute Tayla see’s him just minutes after arriving herself, that he has once again pissed her the fuck off. They need to sever the tension with a bottle of Jim Beam and a box of condoms. The secret is out. We all know what went down between them whether they admit it or not.

  We all have our designated jobs in the “operation clean up Noah Beckett” project, but as my beautiful bride slams the door behind her, a filthy bucket full of God knows what in her hands storming down the hallway, I know right now it’s all a lost cause.

  Before I can get to her the usual happens. Cal and Shame and Tay and Sass all crowd in…we have become this staple of strength since the accident. And today with my girl wrecked over her brothers obvious relapse, they were right there ready to show support. If that ain’t family I don’t know what is.

  Before I can ask what was doing back in his room, a loud knock on his front door makes us all pause.

  WTF? We are all here?

  I watch Carrie gather her composure assuming like me that it’s Seth or Lilly, their Aunt and Uncle, here to check up on his latest attempt to forget.

  He could try for a lifetime and it would never matter. She was gone and never coming back. I understood not wanting to face it, but he had to face it and soon, or he was dead along side her.

  Chills rushed my neck at the thought knowing he would welcome it.

  All thoughts fade when I hear my girl scream in delight and happiness and wrap her teeny tiny frame around some dude.

  A dude covered from head to toe, fucking literally, in tattoos. Lips pierced on both sides of his mouth and big ass gauges in his ears. Dressed in a pair of dickies, black Chuck Taylors and a white T-shirt that said Hustlers United across the front.

  And he was looking at my wife like he had waited years to see her smile.

  “What the fuck?” I say to myself, but Shame and Cal are watching just as confused when Carrie starts crying and holds him closer.

  “How…why… Who told you to come?” Carrie asks through sobs of happiness. All my instincts are on alert, but something tells me this guy means business and whoever the fuck he is, he matters to the Becketts.

  “TMZ… five o’clock news…world wide web.” He smiles and winks at her before stepping back and dropping two insanely large duffels at his feet. “He refused to answer my calls and texts so if Mohamed won’t come to the mountain, then the mountain comes to kick the fuck out of Mohamed.”

  She smiled and looked over to me, before grabbing his inked arm. The artist in me wanted a look at the ink, but the husband in me wanted his fucking name more. “Sam, this is my husband Chad. Chad this is Sam ‘Sully’ Sullivan. He was our only friend before we moved to Gig.”

  I know the guys were just as shocked as me at learning Noah knew anyone good enough to call him friend outside of the people in this house. I had heard stories of Sully from him over the years and a few times from Carrie, but nothing would have prepared me for the reaction to seeing her face when she opened the door. It wasn’t how she looked at me, it was exactly how she looked at Noah. This guy was family to my girl and Noah and that made him family to me.

  “Nice too meet you.” He said as Carrie introduced us all. “I sent a gift for the wedding but felt like shit not being there considering.” He dropped his eyes as he said the last words, the tone of voice and his posture told me all I needed to know.

  “Nice too meet you too.” I say and feel like a four year old being schooled in manners. “We were just about to head out. It’s pretty gnarly back there but we took everything.” I stop to look at Carrie not sure if he knew what he just walked into.

  He laughs and grips my shoulder in a show of kindness. “Bro, been here done this, don’t sweat. It’s why I’m here.” He doesn’t say anything else as he walks down the hall like he’s been here a million times before. We all hear a loud crash and then a roar of laughter from Sully. “Time to wake the fuck up fucker.”

  Carrie grabbed my arm as I went to stop whatever was about to go down. “Baby I’ll explain everything I swear, but Sam is here to stay unless Noah sends him packing, and he is our best hope.”

  “How did we never know this guy?” I ask kind of pissed at the Beckett secret tree.

  “That’s their story to tell, but I’m telling you to trust him implicitly… trust me yeah?” She says with a wink. It’s the first time I have seen her look hopeful in weeks.

  So yeah…I didn’t hate the guy.

  “He’s smokin’ hot…Jesus.” Tayla says and fans her face and you can hear Cal grinding his teeth.

  “He has as many fucking tats as you.” Shamus says and bumps her shoulder.

  Tay nods and flutters her lashes forcing Cal to storm out and slam the door behind him. Tayla rolls her eyes and looks at Carrie. “Hiding that for years was a total fail Carrie. If there are more of him hiding back home send them my way.”

  “I’ll be here a while.” Sam…Sully… Whatever says from the hall. “Don’t worry pet.” He says and winks causing Tayla to sigh…

  Oh Christ.

  Whoever the fuck this guy is, he was now referred to by me as the Noah Whisperer, because Noah came walking down the hall, high but standing and looking like his long lost pal just pulled him from the coffin and he had a slight smile at Sam’s joke.

  I looked at my best friend and knew then and there that it didn’t matter who or why or what brought Sam here, all that mattered was that he was key in bringing Noah back.

  For whatever reason, he just proved that what he did in five minutes, we as a whole couldn’t do in six weeks.

  Welcome to the mother fuckin’ family Sam.

  Epilogue

  Cal

  I woke from a hangover that was from everything but alcohol. My mind was so jaded by last night, hell the last eight weeks events had taken their toll and I was restless.

  I had been delaying the inevitable long enough. I knew I had to go see Noah and at least get a feel for where his head was at. I’m not an asshole, don’t get this twisted, I care more for him and his well being than I could ever care for our success, but the musician in me was anxious to test the waters and feel out where we were headed. Whatever he chose though, Noah was more than my band mate and more than a bad ass Bassist. Noah is my brother, my friend and I support whatever he needs.

  We had all sat around and talked last night after we got his place cleaned up. Sam had filled in a lot of cracks about his relationship with the Beckets.

  Sam Sullivan was the only son of Lieutenant Sullivan with the Seattle Sheriffs department. He had been the only friend they had been allowed to be around as kids. Sam was thirty, three years older than us guys and Noah had looked up to Sam’s defiance.

  He was enamored that Sam would fight back against his father and fight for his own image and lifestyle. Where the Beckets home was a house of horrors, Sam’s was a home of equal measures in disappointment and misguided love.

  Carrie had confided in Sam during the four years Noah had used when they first moved to Gig Harbor. It was also Sam that told Noah, Carrie was good as gone if he didn’t clean his act up.

  He wasn’t a magician or anything psychological to them, he was a friend with a low tolerance for bullshit and a high understanding of pain. For whatever reason, he was always able to reach Noah on a level none of us, Carrie included, could never reach
him.

  I liked the guy and what he stood for. He was our kind of people, but I hated the way he looked at Tay all night. When I pulled her aside to talk business with her, it was the attitude she threw at me that provoked my dislike of Sam. He flirted with her the entire time, openly, unaware I was fighting the urge to drop him.

  Strange to be so thankful of him and at the same time be disgusted.

  “I need to know where we are at with the band Cal.” Tayla had said in exasperation when I asked her why she was hanging on this dudes every word.

  “What the fuck does he have to do with our band?” I knew it sounded fucked up, the guy was all about helping. However, anyone who knows me, knows, I am one thing and that thing is obsessed with TAT. In my opinion he had no place talking band business.

  “Noah is part of TAT, and he is here for Noah. That’s why and you know it.” She was speaking in hushed tones so no one would hear our argument. “We both know this has nothing to do with TAT and everything to do with you forcing me out the door. You see him as a threat and maybe he is, but that’s what happens when you toss me aside. What you see as useless, he see’s as not.”

  I knew she was right. I didn’t admit it, no- instead; I rolled my eyes forcing her to walk away.

  All of it combined with why I was here today. I had been sitting in Noah’s drive-way for twenty minutes when he opened the door and looked at me like I was crazy.

  I jumped from my Jeep and headed inside. Whatever he chose I would back… I just hoped he chose us.

  Carrie was in the kitchen making coffee but I was cool with Carrie there. They were and would always be Mutt and Jeff, so whatever I told him, he would tell her.

  “Come to talk TAT?” He asks and he barely resembles the Noah I remember. This version of him is disgusting. I try not to judge him and understand but I cant help but see the tracks on his arms and the tremble of his hands.

  I have watched Noah withdrawal before and this is just the beginning.

  “Just want to see where your head is. We don’t have a timeframe here Noah, whatever you need we’ll do.” I say casually and walked to Carrie and kiss the top of her head in hello.

  I was not even remotely prepared for what his response would be.

  “Might as well tell you.” He spoke calmly and sounded like my sane rational friend Noah. “I’m not coming back.” Everything in me stalled to a deafening halt at those four words.

  I look at Carrie and see the straight spine and hard eyes and I know she is supporting him but hates the thought. Everything I swore to support flies out the window at his confession.

  “What?” I don’t hide the shock in my voice when I turn to look at him, hoping against hope he is playing some twisted joke.

  Noah, dressed in a simple grey t-shirt and basketball shorts, nods his head. “I can’t do it Cal.”

  He doesn’t look sorry. He doesn’t look unsure or scared. He looks like Noah, sick as fuck, but Noah. I see in his eyes that he has made this decision sober and with a lot of thought.

  And still I don’t accept it.

  “Like hell, Noah.” I say, just as calm and just as sincere.

  “Look. I can’t stay clean and be in the band Cal. I have to choose and right now, I need to go back to my basics.” Noah is the strongest guy I know. I long for the days of pussy parties and freedom. I miss the Aloha house and the small town super star life we had once. I miss it all and in comparison to the world we live now, I understand completely.

  We live in front of cameras- fans. We have no privacy, no intimacy. We show it all to them and we do it because they love us and the music we make, but they don’t know us. I hate how hard this life is.

  Kid Rock said it best: “Looking for the payback, listen for the playback. They say that every man bleeds just like me.”

  It is true and the first time I heard that song I wondered why he was bitching. But no, no, not anymore. I look to him and I see his strength and I know he’ll be back to his normal brooding self again, so I concede. “So what are we talking? Months? Years? What?”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “Never Cal. I’m opening a shop and living a simple life. I can’t… I can’t be that anymore.”

  He sounded the opposite of his words. His words said he was hurting, stressed about it, but he looked like Noah. He was not fucking around. He was done.

  “Have you talked to Tayla? What about Heshan Aggression? You can’t just quit Noah. You stand for more than that.” There was no arguing that I was pissed off. I was not letting him throw his life away.

  “I stand for more than that?” He asked, staring at me pointedly. Carrie knew exactly what his voice meant, that tone and with it she made her way in the room to stand beside him. Noah wasn’t the type to back down. I knew that but I was mad.

  “Yeah. You do. This isn’t just your life Noah. This affects us all, you can’t just bail. We have contracts…” Jesus I was sweating, my pulse rising at the thought.

  “What you gonna do Cal? Sue me? Go ahead if it makes it easier, I thought you stood for more than that. I am only surviving now Cal. I am living for me, for Carrie and Noelle…for you guys, but it aint living. Understand that. This isn’t living, it’s surviving Cal and I am surviving until I die. I am not about to spend the rest of my life trying to forget her with a needle in my arm. It didn’t work anyway. I need to, for some resemblance of happiness and the only time I can think of it working, was before I knew Candey True and I was sitting in a shop laying ink to skin.”

  “You’ll be swarmed Noah. The minute the world finds out, you’ll never get a moments peace.”

  He laughs darkly. “You think I have any peace now? I don’t. I have to do me Cal. Get it or don’t. I need to find mindless bitches I can fuck and walk away from. I need to feel the rush of the machine not my guitar. I need to drink beers at Howie’s or Aloha house and I need to be with my family.”

  “Do you hear yourself Noah? You sound like you’re given a choice. Fuck mindless bitches? Really?” I can’t help but pace and try to find words that will make him open his eyes. All I had was anger and confusion.

  Now- I can look back, even five minutes after I eventually left his place, I was able to look back and see the error in my actions. I was selfish, greedy and completely in a fight I was too dumb to win. All I had was anger and confusion, I stated that to myself, even in the midst of this argument… I was a fool and he had no problem showing me that.

  He stood, stared me down. He no longer looked like the weak and sick depressed guy. No, I was fooled by the effect the addiction had on him. Fooled because no matter how sad, lonely, angry- no matter, he was still Noah. “Yes. Fuck. Mindless. Bitches. Cal. I want it all back. My life will never be the same. I will never forget life with her, but I can remember life before her. It was the happiest time in my life until her. I will never be there again, but I can go back to how it was before her and know it’s as close as I’ll get.”

  “Then you don’t stand for anything.” I said.

  “What do you stand for?” He asked me, the calm of his voice enough to make my skin crawl. “You think we don’t know Cal? You think we don’t know what really go’s on? We all know you fucked Tay into loving you, to then turn and run like a little bitch the minute it became more. We all know that without the cover of TAT, you are forced to face your existence was always a bore. You could never do what I did, or Shame or Chad. You can’t because you won’t face it like we did. We as TAT were successful because we used the pain, the anger and the good times to push it. We wrote music that made masses cry and caused orgies I’m sure. We did that because we didn’t hide what was doing in our hearts and heads. You pushed us sure, you had the drive of an army and we wouldn’t have been half as big if it wasn’t for you, but you hide behind it Cal.” He came forward to stand before me.

  “What do you fucking stand for?” He roared, demanding I answer for my obvious lack of faith.

  Well…shit. With no other option than to come back at him lik
e I stand for so much more than I do, I roar back- “Don’t even think of coming at me like I stand for nothing when the bruises from the tracks on your arm are staring me down.”

  “What the fuck do you have to say about it bitch?” Noah asks and comes at me like he has the mental function to win this fight.

  “More than you care to hear.” I say and look him in the eyes and slowly gaze at the nasty ass bruises on his arms, the same color as the rings under his eyes.

  “Cal-” Carrie says but Noah doesn’t stop and steps in front of her abruptly shutting her up.

  “Look here Cal, you want to judge me, go for it. I sure as fuck can’t stop you.” He holds his arms out, palm up so the tracks are in plain sight and vivid. He shrugs his shoulders and cocks his head to the side. “I have never pretended to be anything than this. Using or not, I have never been anything but me. So yeah, fuck you, I stand for truth and I stand for consequence and my fucking life is proof of that.”

  What do you say? I mean really…what the fuck do you say?

  Okay?

  Sure thing Boss?

  Fuck off Jackass?