Rock My Body

by Michelle A. Valentine

  My heart does a double thump in my chest. Tyke Douglas just told me he loves me. Tears streak down my face as I envision a life without darkness—one filled with light. I can picture him holding me in his arms as we stand over a crib and watch our baby sleep. God, it seems so farfetched, but damn if I don’t want it to be true. This could be my shot at happiness.

  I trace my fingertips over the stubble on his cheek and stare into his green eyes—eyes that reflect nothing but love as he stares back at me. He’s told me exactly how he feels. There’s no guessing because he shows it in his actions, too, and I wonder if I can ever love him back the same way.

  As soon as I allow myself to think about it, the answer swells in my chest. Yes. Yes, I can love him back because he’s been nothing but kind and loving to me since we met. How can I not admit that I feel the same way about him?

  I smile just before I whisper, “I love you, too.”

  He picks me up in his arms, and he spins us around before he sets me back on my feet and cradles my face in his hands. “I’m going to make you happy, Frannie. I swear it.”

  It’s then that I realize my mistake. All this time I never understood that in order to find love again, all I had to do was open up my heart to the possibility of it.

  “Nobody Knows” – The Tony Rich Project

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like my life had true direction—even longer since I was in a situation that made me happy, without it having anything to do with Black Falcon.

  It’s hard to admit, but it took me finding Frannie and going through some majorly fucked-up shit before I could relate to what the rest of my band mates were experiencing. I finally understand why Black Falcon sometimes took a backseat to the things going on in their personal lives.

  The time has finally come where I’m ready to reconnect with the guys. To sit down and have a heart-to-heart about everything that’s been going on. I’m ready to sit down and open up about my feelings and tell them exactly what pushed me over the edge.

  It’s time they knew exactly how bad my anxiety is.

  Trip answers his phone on the second ring. “Brother! How are things in the big house? Bubba make you his bitch yet?”

  I roll my eyes. My brother is an absolute idiot. “Fuck you, dude. It’s rehab, not prison.”

  Asshole.

  He snickers into the phone. “Oh right, my bad.” Trip pauses for a long moment before he asks, “You clean and sober yet?”

  I adjust the phone against my ear. “I haven’t been this clearheaded in a long time. I’ve confronted a lot of issues here, but we still need to talk—really talk. I think I’m finally ready to have a sit-down with you and the guys. I’m ready to listen to whatever you guys have to say. To show you guys that I’m back and ready to be a part of this band.”

  “It’s about fucking time!” Trip exclaims. “I need the mad scientist back in the lab with me. This new album is going to be sick with you laying down the melodies and lyrics.”

  I smile, glad that we’re almost back to the way we used to be. No bickering or finger pointing—

  just being brothers and talking music.

  We sit in silence for a moment and a thought rushes to mind. “Do you think the guys would be willing to come here?”

  “So we can all sit down and talk? Yeah, man. I think they’d do anything to help you get better. Riff and Noel love you, too. They might not tell you like I do, but we all care about you, Tyke.”

  I rub the back of my neck as a single tear falls from my eye. “You know, you can be an all right bastard sometimes.”

  Trip chuckles into the phone. “I have my moments. Speaking of moments, what’s going on with you and your hot doctor lady?”

  I sigh and lean back in my chair. “I’m in love, man.”

  “In love? Shut the fuck up! No shit? Wow.” Even I can hear the wonder in his voice. “It’s about fucking time. You aren’t getting any younger over there.”

  I laugh. “Fuck you, dude. Twenty-seven isn’t old. I’m in my fucking prime. Speaking of prime . . . there’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “Shit? What?” His tone suddenly growing serious. “I don’t like when you say shit like that because it’s usually followed by bad fucking news.”

  “Well, it’s not bad, exactly, just . . . unexpected,” I tell him.

  “Hot doctor lady is knocked-up, isn’t she?” he asks, but the inflection of his voice makes it seem like he already knew.

  “She is,” I answer honestly. “And it’s mine.”

  “Wow. Goes to rehab to get straightened up and comes back with a woman and kid. Weren’t you pissed at Noel and Riff for this very thing?”

  I run my fingers through my shaggy blond hair. “I guess I didn’t fucking get it before—the whole wife and kids thing. I didn’t understand how anything could ever be more important than the music, you know. It’s taken me getting into the same situation to see just how things change when you fall in love. I owe Noel and Riff both a huge-ass apology—you, too. I’m sorry, Trip. I’m sorry for giving you shit over Holly. I’m truly happy that you’ve got her.”

  Trip sniffs on the other end of the line. “Shit, man. Now you’ve gone and made me turn on the fucking waterworks like a pussy. Thank you. You don’t know how fucking nice it is to hear you say that. It’s good to have you back, brother.”

  I smile. “It’s good to be back.”

  If I keep pacing back and forth like this, I’m going to wear off the gray paint on the porch floor. It’s hard to recall a time when I’ve felt this nervous. Trip and the guys were already in Kentucky when I talked to my brother yesterday, so they were all game for driving out to Serenity today. Now is my time to prove to the band that I’m clearheaded and worthy of their trust again. I hope they can see that I’ve changed in the weeks that I’ve been here and welcome me back into the fold, without the crazy tension we had before.

  The hum of an approaching engine catches my ear and my body stills as I stare intently at the winding driveway. A blue minivan pulls into view, and I laugh. Never in all my years did I ever expect Riff to be the guy who cruises around in one of those soccer mom mobiles.

  My palms begin to sweat as the van parks, and I know it’s time to face the guys. Noel hops out of the passenger seat first, Trip following a close second through the sliding side door in the back. Riff exits last.

  Riff’s extra tall Mohawk, tattoos, and lip ring makes the whole minivan situation even more comical. It so doesn’t fit the tough guy persona he’d always portrayed to the world until he married Aubrey.

  I make my way off the porch so I can get a better look at Riff’s vehicle.

  “Nice ride,” I tell him, a smirk on my face as I clasp my hand with his and give him a quick chest bump, and then do the same with Noel and my brother.

  Riff’s lips twist like he’s doing his best to fight back a smile. “Shut it, fucker. It’s practical.”

  I roll my eyes. “Now you sound like Aubrey. Man, does she have you whipped.”

  “Ha!” A sarcastic laugh bubbles out of his throat. “You just wait. Your time’s coming.”

  I rub the back of my neck and stay quiet, knowing that my brother has probably told them about my situation with Frannie.

  “Yeah, that’s right. No more smart-ass jokes now I’ve brought up the hot doctor lady,” Riff teases. “We know all about that shit, but don’t worry, we won’t let it slip. Trip already told us it’s a secret because she works here.”

  I nod my head as heat floods my cheeks.

  “Pretty soon you’ll be driving one of these bad boys.” Riff jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his vehicle, and then points his gaze in my brother’s direction. “Both of you.”

  Trip throws his hands in the air, palms up, in protest. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever be driving a fucking mom mobile. That shit’s lame.”

  “It’s going to be funny to see them both eat those words when they have kids.”
Noel laughs as he teams up with Riff. “They have no idea what they’re in for.”

  Riff folds his tattooed arms over his chest. “Oh yeah.”

  Trip shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. Not this guy. Even when Holly and I start making babies, I’ll still have a sweet-ass ride. My girl is a Mustang fanatic. There’s no way she’ll be caught dead driving one of those.”

  Noel and Riff exchange a knowing glance before both of them chuckle.

  “Keep telling yourself that, dude.” Noel smiles and then his gaze flits over to me for a brief moment before returning to my twin. “Your brother is about to be Team Dad soon, and he’ll tell you the same thing, so you might as well get prepared because it’s going to happen.”

  Before we have a chance to say anything else, the screen door shuts behind us and we all turn and face the porch. Frannie stands there, watching us, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Her dark hair falls in long waves over her shoulders and the black skirt and blue top she wears only bring out the blue in her eyes even more. She smiles warmly, and I can’t pull my gaze away from the absolute perfection before me.

  “Damn,” Trip says next to me. “That’s the hot doctor lady? She’s fine.”

  I jam my elbow into his ribs, and he grunts. I turn to Noel and Riff. “Guys, this is Dr. Francine Mead. She’s my addiction therapist.”

  Frannie walks down the steps carefully in her heels. “Hello, gentlemen.”

  I walk over and take her hand, helping her off the last step. My fingers linger against her skin a little too long, but it’s hard not to touch her. Keeping how I feel about her secret is so—fucking—difficult. I wish I could shout it from the rooftops, but I know doing that will cause problems for her, so I force all my feelings to stay locked up inside.

  I quickly introduce her to all the guys, each of them nothing but respectful as they shake her hand. A few years ago, they would’ve competed to catch her eye and steal her away from me, but now that they’ve all settled down, they only have eyes for their respective woman.

  “I’m so glad you could all make it out. When Tyke told me he’d invited all of you to sit down and talk, I couldn’t have been happier. He’s made some real progress with his addiction, and I think it’s very important that he be very open with all of you so that you can support him through his recovery. He’s going to need your support, as this will be an ongoing struggle to stay clean for the rest of his life,” Frannie tells them.

  If I were the old me, I would’ve denied everything that she’s saying, but I know now that I do have an addiction and that it’s impossible to deal with things alone. I’ll need the guys’ support if I’m going to succeed in taking control of my life.

  “I know you all have crazy schedules, so if you gentlemen will follow me, we’ll get our group session started,” Frannie instructs the guys, before turning and heading back toward the main house.

  When the guys enter into the place that’s been my home for the better part of the last two months, Trip lets out a low whistle. “Damn, the brochures on this place weren’t fucking kidding. This is a palace.”

  “It hasn’t been too bad staying here,” I say as I stand beside my brother.

  Trip’s head turns in my direction, and there’s a smart-ass grin all over his face. “I bet.”

  He doesn’t elaborate, but I know exactly how my twin thinks. In his mind, I’ve been fucking the hot doctor lady all over this fancy place, but what he doesn’t know is how god-awful the days I spent detoxing were. That was the worst experience I’ve ever lived through, and the biggest wake-up call I’ve ever received. Not only did this place give me the woman that I’m in love with, but a fucking eye-opener, too—showing me just how fucked up I was, and that I need to change.

  Frannie leads us to her office and pushes the door open. Two folding chairs have been brought into the space across from the couch.

  “Have a seat, gentlemen. Tyke,” she turns to me, “you might want to grab your guitar. Playing a song may help you break the ice.”

  I nod. “That’s a great idea. I’ll be right back.” I lean in to kiss her cheek, but she presses a hand against my chest, and I suddenly remember that I’m not allowed. “Sorry.”

  She smiles. “Soon, we won’t have to worry about all that. We’ll leave here together, and you can kiss me any time you want.”

  “You’ve finally decided to give us a real go?” I waggle my eyebrows. “That’ll be nice.”

  “Indeed,” she purrs. “I’ve decided that I can’t give you up.” She shrugs. “I’m addicted to you now.”

  I smile. “I’ll be your vice any time, babe.”

  Frannie laughs. “Hurry back. I’ll get the guys all settled in.”

  After rushing up to my room and grabbing my baby from the corner, I hurry back to Frannie’s office.

  Around the corner, I can hear Riff’s voice drift into the hallway. “Do you think it’s too soon for Tyke to come back on tour with us? Is he ready?”

  “Tyke has done a one-eighty since he’s been here. He’s clearheaded and seems focused. One of his biggest priorities has been working on new songs for the next album. He’s worked very hard to prove not only to all of you, but to himself, that he’s ready. I think as long as he maintains that drive to succeed and stays away from any outside factors that may tempt him to use again, he’ll do very well,” Frannie tells the guys.

  Hearing what she thinks of me without her knowing I’m listening makes me smile. I love that she believes in me.

  “I think Tyke’s biggest challenge will be himself. He lets everything get in his head and convinces himself that bad shit’s going to happen. He’s been that way since we were kids,” Trip chimes in.

  “He’s well aware of that problem, too, and he’s working hard to find other outlets for his anxiety—music being one of them,” Frannie says.

  “And let’s not forget Gabby. We have a few more shows left with Sex Arsenal on this tour. Once he’s back, she’ll be trying to get her hooks into him again,” Noel adds.

  “I don’t think that chick will be an issue anymore. He’s got hot doctor lady now,” Trip counters.

  “Mr. Douglas, please call me Frannie,” my girl corrects my brother, and it makes me smile.

  “No way. Hot doctor lady fits you so much better.” He laughs.

  Noel clears his throat. “I think you better call her Frannie. Holly will chop off your nuts if you keep calling another woman hot.”

  All the guys laugh.

  “Holly loves my nuts too much to hurt them,” Trip jokes. “Besides, she’s going to want kids someday and keep up with all you assholes popping ’em out left, right, and center. I have to tell you, though, I’m excited to be an uncle. I’m going to have fun spoiling that kid.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, Mr. Douglas.”

  “Frannie, please just call me Trip. We’re family now, right?”

  “Okay,” she replies.

  It hits me. I can really picture this happening—a future with Frannie. I can see her interacting with Trip and the guys, and I know she’ll get along with Lanie, Aubrey, and Holly. Frannie fits into my world perfectly.

  I take a deep breath and push open the door. All eyes are on me, and it’s suddenly very quiet in the room. Pressure crushes down on me as I take a seat on the couch next to the chair Frannie’s sitting in, just like when we’re in a session. I need to explain to these guys how I feel, and like Frannie says, the best way to do that is through music.

  I adjust the guitar on my knee. “Since I’ve been in therapy with Frannie, she’s helped me open up about my feelings though song. She’s had me write down songs that express the way I feel at different points through my journey here. When I was going through my playlists, I found an old The Tony Rich Project song that really resonated with me. It’s called ‘Nobody Knows,’ and it talks about a guy who feels so much pain inside but keeps it completely to himself, shutting everyone else out. That’s exactly what I’ve done for the last year. I pushed you all a
way. I let the worry about Black Falcon falling apart eat at me so much that I had to find a way to keep myself from going crazy. I turned to prescription drugs, and when that was no longer enough, I used whatever I could get my hands on to go with it.”

  I strum the opening chords of the song and start to sing the lyrics. It’s hard to admit so openly just how lonely I felt, so I close my eyes as I let the emotion pour out of me through the words.

  When I’m finished, I take a deep breath and open my eyes to meet all of their gazes. I want them to see me—to know I’m clearheaded and one-hundred-percent dedicated to this band again.

  “I convinced myself that the band no longer matter to you guys. All I saw was you had wives and girlfriends now and your priorities changed. Black Falcon was no longer the number one thing in your life like it was mine. I didn’t understand what you guys were going through but now, I completely get it. Since meeting Frannie, she’s made me understand that you can love two things: music and your woman. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too, Tyke,” Noel says. “I’m sorry that we made you feel that way. Next time come talk to us before going off the deep end.”

  “Yeah, man, we’ll understand. We won’t know you’re feeling left out or anxious if you don’t tell us how you feel,” Riff adds. “That’s what we’re here for, to help each other in rough times.”

  I nod while relief washes through me that we’re finally getting everything out on the table. “I swear there will be no more drama from me. I fucked up. I know that now, and all I can do is say that I’m sorry, and that I will work hard, every day, to stay clean and focused.”

  “We know you will, man, and we’re all here to support you—and kick your ass if you start to fuck up again.” Trip holds his fist out for me to bump. “We’re brothers.” He glances at Riff and Noel, who nod in agreement. “All of us. We’ve got each other’s backs. Always. That’s what makes us the greatest fucking rock band on this planet.”