Rock Me Baby

by Jesse Jordan

  “Then I'll put in my two cents,” I interject again, leaning back. “You both need to chill the fuck out on this one. Joey, you need to bend some on the tune, work in a bridge maybe there in the middle, maybe change up the chorus riff some, and Rocky, you gotta tweak the pacing on your lines in the first two verses. Even I heard it, you either should chop a line and stretch, or you jam ten words in an eight-beat space.”

  “Fuck it, Springsteen did it,” Rocky sulks, and I have to laugh. “Whole fucking line of just music and nothing else to get that verse done. Did it twice even.”

  “Rock, first off, this isn't Born in the USA, and second, we're not Springsteen. Maybe in ten years when we've won enough Grammys that Bella's drinking Coke out of one and Lionel's using another one as a science experiment to magnify his farts, but we should be a little more... flexible right now.”

  Joey thinks, then plucks his A string, listening as the pure note fades away. “I say he's got a point, Rocky. If you'll rewrite a few lines in the verses, I can modify my riff in the chorus, and then the bridge can be sorta new. I want to keep that bridge though for something else, let's not just junk it.”

  “Thank God someone around here has a level head,” I grumble, making Cora laugh. “What?”

  “Now I'm super glad that you're using your sleeping gadget,” she says, coming over and ruffling my hair. “Come on, while we let Mozart and Salieri here collaborate, how about you and I grab a coffee. My treat.”

  “I can do that,” I agree, smiling. “You two behave, and keep your clothes on.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rocky says while Joey tries not to laugh. We leave the studio and go down the hall to the business area, where there's a tiny break room for the staff. Inside there's a halfway decent coffee machine, and Cora pours two cups, one for each of us.

  “So how're the energy levels today?” she asks as we sit down, Cora sort of sprawling. She's grinning, relaxed, and I bet she and Rocky enjoyed having the time for just the two of them to be able to relax yesterday after we wrapped up practice. “Okay?”

  “I'm feeling almost a hundred percent,” I admit, sipping my coffee. “The big thing is when I miss a night on the BiPAP it almost feels like I got no sleep or did some massive workout. Like, remember that night when all of us were stuck in Charlotte and Rocky went a little apeshit with the latex bands?”

  Cora laughs, remembering. It was a late spring hellacious thunderstorm that shut down not only the airport but even the Interstate. Even getting back to the hotel was dangerous, so Cora made the call for us to stay at the arena, where we waited out the storm with the leftovers from catering, the couches in the dressing rooms, and a set of latex resistance bands that Rocky had picked up before the tour kicked off, so that the three of us could keep our exercise routines up.

  Trapped in the concrete hallways behind the arena, Rocky got a small case of cabin fever and went more than a little nuts with the bands for nearly two hours, including topping it off with doing lunges around the entire arena. The next day he was wiped, and all of us were glad we had another day off before the next performance in Knoxville.

  “I remember,” Cora says with a chuckle. “I wasn't sure if I was going to give him a massage to help him out the next day or kick his ass I was so angry at his stupidity.”

  “It was nearly as much fun to watch you as him,” I add, sipping the coffee. Gashouse does a good job of keeping that taken care of at least. “But I sort of feel the way Rocky did. Like while I'm on the surface focused and energetic, there's a bunch of exhaustion underneath it all. It'll take a few days.”

  “Have you tried those oxygen chambers?” Cora asked. “You know, like what Michael Jackson had?”

  “If I ever have to behave like Michael Jackson, please run me over with a bus,” I counter, trying not to laugh. “But no, that doesn't really help except for a short boost for me. I just need a few days to let my body get back on track naturally.”

  “I think I can understand that. I still feel like a zombie half the time when Lionel wakes me up in the middle of the night.”

  Cora's eyes flicker to the glass door and she half chokes on her coffee, trying to not spit it out. “Fuck. Your little friend's back.”

  I turn around with a sense of foreboding, and see Brenda at the doorway, her body squeezed into something ridiculously tight, she's got parts spilling out all over the place including most of her ass hanging out of a set of short shorts and a grin on her face that says she wants me bad. I groan, and turn back, ignoring her pointedly. “I thought James was going to find out who leaked that we were practicing.”

  “He may have, but she might have already known we were going to be here. Once she knew where Gashouse is, it's easy to figure out which cars are ours. What's she doing here anyway?”

  I shake my head, still confused. “I don't know. It can't be good though, she was high yesterday and I can already see from the way she's acting that she's probably jonesing now, maybe on something besides smack. But I'm not ready to deal with her ass. The door's on a lock, right?”

  “Number coded and everything,” Cora reassures me. “She's supposed to be your girl's friend, right?”

  “That's what Mary told me,” I confirm, trying to calm my nerves but it's not helping. “I don't know all the details, just that they've tried to help each other with the getting clean part.”

  Cora shakes her head, sighing sadly. “And you're sure Mary's clean? No offense, big man.”

  “None taken. Yeah, I'm sure. She's strong, Cora. You'd like her when you get a chance to meet her. Uh, about that, I know that Mary's an addict and that you're a two times over mother, so I get it if you're nervous about Mary meeting the rest of everyone.”

  Cora raises an eyebrow and finishes her coffee. “Why do you think it's my decision?”

  I shrug, then laugh softly. “You know, there's a reason I don't try and run the band, right? I'm perfectly happy letting you be the one that makes the tough decisions that way. Besides, this is your house, your family we're talking about. Regardless of whatever develops between me and Mary, it's your family we're talking about.”

  Cora nods. “And us?”

  “Like Joey says, you're family to me. So, I'll always respect you, and I love you, Cora. Not the way Rocky and Joey love each other, but you know.”

  Cora laughs, the silly joke is an old comfort for the two of us, and I finish off my coffee. “Is psycho Brenda still behind me?”

  Cora nods, and I curse under my breath. “Fine. You got your phone on you? Give Rocky a call, ask him to come out of the studio. I can't put up with this anymore. I'm just going to have to handle my business the hard way.”

  “Okay,” Cora says, giving Rocky a quick call. She hangs up in less than a minute while I rinse out the coffee cups and put them in the drying rack. “Okay, he and Joey are coming out. You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, feeling my anger rising. I'm worried about a tiny, stocky little girl who's at least a foot shorter than me, and I know it's not just her fault. I fucked up yesterday by not coming out to Mary about this, and I need to end this now, give Mary a call and talk to her face to face about what happened. And not get stabbed.

  I keep Cora behind me as I leave the coffee room and Brenda's on me like flies to honey, desperate and twitching. “Hey baby, why were you making me wait?”

  “Fuck off, Brenda,” I reply, squaring my shoulders. If she's carrying, I don't want Cora to be in any type of danger. “I told you yesterday you weren't welcome here.”

  “Your mouth said no, but your eyes were saying yes,” Brenda says, trying to push closer to me. I grab her by the shoulders and push her back to arm's length, but instead of backing up she grabs my right hand and pulls my fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking before I pull back in disgust. “Oh, I can suck a lot bigger things than that.”

  “You're disgusting,” Cora says behind me, and Brenda's eyes flick over to her.

  “Oh baby, I didn't know you had another girl too,” Brenda s
ays, leering. “A little three-way action might be fun. You know in prison, they taught me all sorts of ways to eat pussy.”

  I can see in my peripheral vision Joey and Rocky come into the entrance area, and I decide enough is enough. I grab Brenda's arm and start dragging her to the door, ready to throw her out.

  “Oooh, Daddy, make it hurt. I like it rough,” she moans as I pull open the door.

  What I see shocks me is seeing Mary coming down the short sidewalk from the street level, her eyes going wide when she sees me and Brenda. I freeze and Brenda takes advantage, shoving me against the wall and jumping on me, yanking my head down and kissing me while shoving her hand down the front of the track pants I decided to wear today since I wanted to get a workout in after practice. I'm shocked, and my nose is invaded with Brenda’s overly scented stench. She's obviously not bathing and tried to cover it up with cheap perfume. I shove her back even as she starts getting to her knees, her hand locked around my cock and pulling it out.

  “Oh, fuck me, that thing is amazing,” she moans, looking at my cock. I react instinctively, slapping her hard and sending her tumbling to the concrete, my eyes looking up from her sobbing form to try and find Mary, but she's run off, and Brenda's trying to get back to her feet, her drug induced desperation not allowing her not give up even as I shove her away again before I put my cock away. “Baby, why? I promise I'll let you put that anywhere....”

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I scream, barely restraining myself from kicking her. I run down the sidewalk where I saw Mary, but when I get to the street, I don't see her at all, and I turn from side to side, trying to see her in the dimming evening light. Finally, I try calling her name. “Mary? MARY! MARY!”

  I feel someone behind me and I whirl, my hand up to slap the ever-loving fuck out of Brenda if it's her, but it's Joey, his hands up. “Whoa, bro. I just came to see if I could help.”

  “Did you see her?” I ask, desperate. “Black hair, big blue eyes? The girl, Mary!”

  Joey shakes his head but then pats me on the shoulder. “I'll go look for her, I know where the nearest bus stops are and I run a lot faster than you do. Send Rocky, too. We've got the psycho bitch in the foyer, Cora wants to call the cops but Rocky's telling her to wait for your say-so. Tell Rocky I'm heading down, he can head up the street.”

  Joey takes off at a run, and I watch him gratefully for a second before running back inside, finding Rocky standing over Brenda, who's been shoved roughly into the lumpy couch in the entrance, Rocky menacing. “Rock, Joey needs... I need your help. Mary ran off, Joey said he's going down the street to the nearest bus stops. He wanted you to check up the street.”

  “I'm on it,” Rocky says, leaving me and Cora with Brenda, who's barely coherent on the couch. Rocky disappears, and I can't hold it back anymore. I grab Brenda by the shoulders and start shaking her, trying to get her to focus.

  “Who put you up to this? Who? Was it Carl?”

  “Wha...?” Brenda says, nearly at her limits. “Oh... hi, baby. Can I see your trouser snake again?”

  “Goddammit Brenda, who made you do this?” I ask, picking her up. Her feet dangle inches off the floor, but I don't care as I shake her back and forth. “WHO?!?!?”

  “I'm not gonna te-eelllll,” Brenda says sing-song, laughing. “You didn't say the magic word.”

  “Please Brenda, who told you to come here?” Cora asks beside me, her voice more controlled than I feel. “Who told you to go after Ian?”

  “Carl... he's the candy man you know,” Brenda says, giggling. “Oh, he's going to be so angry too. He thinks he's got a cock, but wow... Mary's so... Mary's so....”

  What she just did seeps through the drugs in her mind, and tears start to trickle down her cheeks and she starts sobbing. I set her down, and Brenda stumbles back, catching her balance only by putting her hand on the little desk that's at the entrance. I turn away, looking to Cora. “Call the police. I'll stay here with Brenda.”

  I don't mean that I want the cops to come to arrest Brenda, but she must think that's what I mean. I see a blur of motion and something smashes against my neck, making me stagger. Cora checks on me instead of grabbing Brenda, and when I look up she's already out the door, running with the panicked desperation of a junkie in flight, and I try to climb to my feet, but whatever she did makes my head spin.

  “Sit down over here, you're bleeding,” Cora says worriedly, and I feel the warmth trickling down my neck. I look and see what Brenda hit me with, a triangular prism crystal paperweight that has Sign In Please laser etched on it. The one edge is red, and I put my hand to my neck, the world starting to spin. “Ian?”

  “Call 9-1-1,” I mumble, collapsing into the couch. “Hurry.”

  “The paperweight hit your vagus nerve,” the doctor says as he wipes my neck with betadine, making sure everything's disinfected. “The cut actually wasn't all that bad. Three stitches, and you'll be just fine.”

  “Vagus nerve?” I ask, perplexed. “What's that?”

  “A bundle that runs down both sides of your neck to a lot of the automatic parts of your body including your heart and lungs. When you're emotional, as from what I understand you are, it starts to slow down your heart to counteract the effects of adrenaline. Getting smacked in the nerve sent another jolt down the bundle and told your heart and lungs to just sort of.... go to sleep for a while.”

  “I gotcha. Kinda like my CSA. I just forget to breathe,” I say, wincing as he pokes me. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry, guess the numbing didn't totally take hold yet. This is the last one, I'll be done in a second,” he says, tugging gently. It's not too bad, just a light burn, it hurt more getting my tattoos. “Okay, there we are. And yes, like that. Hey, at least you didn't lose bladder control, that can happen too. All right Mr. Ivory, either have your doctor take these out in ten days or have someone help you remove them. You'll have a scar, but it's a tiny one.”

  “Thankfully, I make my money from something besides my good looks,” I half joke, sitting up. I've held still now for close to an hour and it's late, I'm desperate. Joey and Rocky came back before the ambulance got to the studio, both of them saying they didn't see Mary anywhere. About the only good thing out of the whole mess is that Cora stayed safe, she was totally unharmed and fussed over me the whole time until the paramedics got to the studio.

  “I'll have your paperwork ready in ten minutes,” the doctor says, leaving the cleanup area. Joey and Rocky come in right after he leaves, both of them still looking concerned.

  “You okay, bro?” Joey asks, checking out my cut. “Not too bad.”

  “No, it's not. Guys, I don't want the cops called on this. Call me stupid, but I don't want this girl Brenda in trouble,” I answer, reaching for my phone. “I'm pissed at her, but that doesn't mean I want her ass in jail. And I can't lodge a complaint against that motherfucker Carl, he's probably got enough alibis and lies to back his ass all the way to the Supreme Court.”

  “So, what do you want to do?” Rocky asks. “You know we've got your back, big man.”

  I shake my head, looking at my brothers. “Guys, that was then. You're both married now, or almost. Rock, you've got a wife, a daughter, and a baby boy to worry about before you do anything for my ass. Joey, you too. And don't give me that look, I know it too fucking well, you can stuff your machismo up your ass. You take care of Andrea, your mom, sis, and Angel. For tonight, you guys are done.”

  Rocky looks like he wants to argue with me, while Joey looks like he wants to scream in anger about it. I understand, he’s always been the giver in the group. I reach out, patting him on the shoulder, shaking my head. “It's okay, Joey. Really. I'm not saying that you guys can't help me, but that right now, there's nothing to do directly. So go home, hug your family. Give Andrea a kiss on the cheek, and tell your sister I think she's pretty.”

  Joey clears his throat, nodding. “I'll call you tomorrow, Ian. Maybe we can't do shit physically, but I'm pretty sure Andrea knows the right people to keep sh
it popping on this motherfucker Carl. Do you know any more about him?”

  “We'll talk tomorrow on this, Joey. I promise. In the meantime, I need to talk to Mary. Can you guys give me privacy?”

  Rocky gathers Joey up and they leave, and I dial Mary. As the phone rings, I think about her.

  Today hurt. But it wasn’t physical pain. Okay, getting popped by Brenda in the neck wasn’t fun, but I’ve had a lot worse.

  What hurts most is the knowledge that I may have hurt Mary. I didn’t get a good look at her, I was so busy dealing with psycho Brenda, but I know what it might have looked like.

  I can’t hurt her. In the past few days, practicing with the guys, I’ve come to realize that she’s vital to me. When I have dreams, they’re of her. Even during our breaks in practice, it’s her pale face, blue eyes, and black hair that I think of.

  I need to tell her that. I need to… shit. There's no pickup, so I try again, then again. Finally, I leave a voicemail. “Mary, it's Ian. Listen, I don't know what you saw today at the studio, but it wasn't what you think. Please, give me a call. I need to make sure you're okay. I care about you. Please.”

  Chapter 11

  Mary

  He was kissing her.

  Kissing her.

  He was doing more than that, I saw where her hand was, and I saw the flash of whitish pink. She was pulling his cock out, and by the look in his eyes, he felt it, too.

  What have I been doing?

  And what has Ian been doing? Fucking around with Brenda?

  Was Carl telling me the truth the whole time?

  I'm afraid, scared and angry as the bus rumbles down the 101 freeway. In my anger and shame, I jumped on the first bus I saw at the stop, not realizing that it was going totally the wrong way from where my apartment is. It's not until I got to the fucking zoo that I realize I got all sorts of fucked up and got off, taking the next high-speed bus back towards Van Nuys. I'd have taken the Metro, it's faster, but I don't have the cash on me, I left my apartment with only my keys and ten bucks in my hip pocket.