Down on My Knees

by Samantha Conley

  “I’m good,’” Brett slurs out as he tries to stand up before his knees give out and he lands shoulder first into the unforgiving floor, passed out cold.

  “Jesus, what the fuck are we going to do with him?” I ask, glancing at the guys around me.

  “I don’t know, but we have to do something before he ends up ruining this for all of us.”

  “I just want my friend back,” Derek mutters as he bends down to help Brett. Brett is not a small man, and as built as Derek is, he’s barely able to pick his upper half off the floor.

  “There’s a bathroom through there with a shower. Throw his ass in there and sober him up. I’ll send one of the assistants to grab his bag for a change of clothes. We need to make this quick. I’ll head out and stall. Maybe we got him in here quick enough that there won’t be too many questions.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jason states as he opens the door to the bathroom while Derek and I carry Brett inside. Placing him in the stall, I strip off his boots while Derek empties his pockets. I turn the knob to the coldest setting on full blast and let it pour straight down onto Brett’s pale face. It isn’t long before Brett jerks awake, sputtering, bloodshot eyes open wide.

  “Wakey, wakey, asshole.”

  “What the hell?” Brett screeches as he backs as far away from the icy water as he can.

  “Had to sober your ass up somehow,” I say, irritated, as he wipes a hand down his face.

  “Here’s his clothes and some coffee. Brian says we have ten minutes tops to get back out there.” Jason throws Brett’s black bag into the room before setting the foam cup down on the countertop.

  “Thanks, Jase,” I say, pulling clothes out of the bag. Derek turns off the water and helps Brett to his feet. Brett leans against the white tile as he struggles to pull his water-sodden t-shirt over his head. It hits the tile with a plop before he tackles the buckle of his belt.

  “Fuck, at this rate, we’ll never get out there,” Derek grumbles as he pushes Brett’s hands out of the way, pulls the belt free, and unhooks the button on his jeans. “Push the damn jeans off, Brett. I love you, man, but I’m not getting up close and personal with your dick.”

  “Okay,” Brett replies as he fights to push down the heavy denim.

  Looking in the cabinet, I find some thin, white towels and throw one to Derek. As Brett stands there shivering in his boxer briefs, Derek begins to dry him off. Another towel sails in their direction, landing on Brett’s head as I let out a laugh.

  After struggling to keep Brett upright, he’s finally dressed and sobering up. After downing the cup of hot coffee, he pulls his last boot on as Brian marches through the door.

  “Move it. People are already talking. Let’s get this over with. Brett, you keep your fucking mouth shut. I told them you weren’t feeling well, which will help since you look like shit.”

  When Brian turns around, we gather around Brett as he adjusts his jeans over the top of his boots.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” he says, meeting out gazes, regret shining in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Derek replies, exasperated. “Right now, we have to go face the firing squad.”

  Making our way back to the room where the vultures are waiting, the interviews go rather smoothly considering. When they ask us for some pictures, we gather around. The brunette from earlier squeaks by somehow and wraps herself around me as the cameras click.

  Camryn

  My stomach knots as I stare at the picture on my tablet. Damn it, I should know better than to look at the pictures posted on the internet, but when I open Facebook and it’s at the top of my newsfeed, it’s hard to ignore. Long, brown hair and big boobs in a slinky red dress wrapped like a vine around my man is not how I wanted to start my morning. No, the plan was to sip my coffee and read a book while enjoying my first day off in three weeks. We’ve been run ragged at work, and I needed a mental health day to recoup.

  When I grabbed my iPad off the table, my finger seemed to hone in on the Facebook tab as I snuggled into the couch. Then, BOOM! There it was, right in my face, ruining my whole relaxing morning of vegging out. I wonder if this was before or after he texted me back that his dreams are always sweet. And did she make them sweeter after getting him off? Shit, I hate feeling this way.

  Quit looking at the damn picture, Camryn. Stop looking at how she’s clinging to him while he has that sexy ass grin on his face. He doesn’t seem to mind her hanging on him.

  Maybe that’s what he wants, for you to see this and know you never had a chance. Why would you even think you could measure up to that? the little voice in the back of my mind whispers, sounding suspiciously like my sister.

  “No, he wants me to trust him and be honest. I’ll just ask him when I talk to him today.”

  If you talk to him, the little voice nags on. You haven’t talked to him in days. Why would today be any different?

  “We’ve both been very busy,” I defend.

  Sure, blame it on that. If he really wanted to talk to you, he could have. Quit making excuses.

  “Damn it, I will talk to him.” When I realize what I’m doing, I throw the tablet on the couch with disgust. “Great, now I’m freaking talking to myself. I’m going nuts.”

  My phone ringing on the kitchen counter breaks me out of my pity party. Elation and fear course through me, wondering if it’s him calling. Wiping my suddenly damp palms on my flannel pajama pants, I shuffle to the counter and see Sarah’s face smiling at me from the screen. Swiping my thumb across the bottom, I accept the call.

  “Hey, Sarah,” I say, despondent.

  “What the hell is wrong with you this morning? Did I wake you up? I waited until after nine.”

  “No, I’m up.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “How do you know something’s wrong?”

  “Girl, I may not have known you for years, but I know your tone of voice, and it’s telling me something is bothering you.”

  “Okay, you’re right.”

  “Spill it, girlfriend.”

  “It’s Isaac,” I begin before she interrupts.

  “What about him? Did he do something stupid?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know,” I answer, confused.

  “What happened?”

  “A picture on Facebook.”

  “A picture? On Facebook?” she asks, drawing the words out.

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind of picture?”

  “It was a picture of the band after the concert last night.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “There’s a girl wrapped around him like a damn vine.”

  “Is he wrapped around her?”

  “What? Of course not!” I snap.

  “Then what are you worried about? If this bothers you, you are not cut out for dating someone in a band. The more famous they are, the worse it gets.”

  “Great.”

  “If I got pissed off for every picture that gets posted of Keith with another woman when he’s out playing at the bars, honey, that’s all I’d ever be. It’s just part of the ride.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  “I trust my man. I love him and know he loves me. Trust is key.”

  “That’s the problem,” I mutter.

  “You don’t trust him?”

  “God, I want to.”

  “But?”

  “I know what his past is like.”

  “That’s your hang up, not his, honey.”

  “I know.”

  “Has he given you any reason to doubt him since he told you he wants to be with you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why don’t you trust him?”

  “I don’t know,” I huff.

  “Yes, you do. You just don’t want to own up to it.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t major in psych?”

  “No, I couldn’t listen to people whine all day,” she laughs. “Your hang up is you.�
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  “Probably,” I groan out.

  “You have to believe you’re worth being loved, Cam.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I don’t know who got these damn ideas in your head, but they need to be strung up. Or maybe drawn and quartered. I’m not sure which torture would be appropriate.” I can just picture her sitting there tapping her finger on her chin as she decides, a devilish gleam in her eyes.

  “Get your ass up and dressed. We’re going to lunch and out for a little retail therapy. And I don’t want to hear one thing about your diet,” she hisses like it’s a dirty word. “It can be your cheat day or whatever. I’ll be there in two hours. Be ready.”

  “Yes, drill sergeant,” I bark out.

  “That’s more like it,” she laughs as she hangs up.

  Now, what the hell am I going to wear?

  Isaac

  Rolling off my bunk is not the way I wanted to wake up this morning—or is it afternoon? I crashed hard last night. Sitting up on the floor, I spot my phone beside me. The quiet murmur of voices is almost drowned out by Brett snoring in his bunk. As I make my way to the tiny bathroom at the back of the bus, I scroll through my contacts, hit Red’s contact, and pray she picks up. I need to hear her voice.

  “Hello?” she answers, breathless.

  “It’s damn good to hear your voice.”

  “I’m glad you called.” The relief in her voice is evident, which worries me.

  “Of course, I’m gonna call. I was hoping you’d have to some time to talk. I know you’ve been working your ass off.”

  “I’m actually off today. I told my boss I’d probably lose my mind otherwise.”

  “Good. You need to take a break. So, what’s the plan for today?”

  “Well, I had planned to just veg out and read, but Sarah is taking me out for retail therapy to get me out of my pity party.”

  “What pity party?”

  “Um…” I can picture her biting her bottom lip as she mulls over how to answer.

  “Come on, Red. We said honesty was important.”

  “I know,” she breathes out. “It was a picture on Facebook this morning.”

  “Of?”

  “You guys last night.” There’s more to it than that.

  “And?”

  “A girl was standing next to you with her hands on you.”

  “Oh, honey, she just snuck into the picture last minute during this press thing. I couldn’t throw her off me like I wanted to.”

  “Did you want to?” she asks, timid. My heart drops to my knees at her tone.

  “Red, I had already told her no a couple times before that picture was taken. Some of these fans are just pushy and don’t know when to take no for an answer,” I reassure.

  “That’s what Sarah was trying to tell me. It comes with the territory.”

  “Unfortunately, it does. I’m trying to minimize it as much as possible, but we can’t alienate our fans either. It’s a hard line to toe.”

  “I understand.”

  “And I’m sorry, but there are going to be pictures or comments that are going to make you uncomfortable.”

  “I don’t want you to change for me, Isaac.”

  “This isn’t changing, it’s growing up. Before you, I would have taken any pictures those girls wanted. And I would have taken the one in the picture up on her offer. Now, it doesn’t hold the appeal. I’d much rather be talking to you than getting my rocks off with them.”

  “Are you sure?” The insecurity in her voice tears at my heart.

  “I’m positive. You’re the only one I want.”

  In the background, a knocking sound breaks the silence.

  “Hey, I better go. Sarah’s here, and I know how she gets when she’s hangry.”

  “I’ll call you again tonight before we go on. That okay?”

  “Sure. We’ll be back by then.”

  “Talk to you then. Y’all be safe.”

  “You too. Bye.”

  Pounding on the flimsy door separating the bathroom from the next room startles me, and I nearly drop my phone.

  “Hurry up, man. I gotta piss!” Brett yells from the other side of the door.

  “Hold your fucking horses,” I throw back as I stand up. As I open the door, the cheap wood stops short.

  “Son of a bitch!” he bellows, holding his nose with both hands, bloodshot eyes watering.

  “What the hell were you standing there for, dumbass? You know the door opens that way.”

  “I guess I wasn’t thinking,” he replies, voice muffled by his hands.

  “Are you bleeding?” I ask, though I don’t see any red dripping from between his fingers.

  “I don’t think so. Just throbs like a bitch.”

  “Go take care of business, and I’ll get you an ice pack or something,” I say, passing by him toward the front of the bus.

  “What was that about?” Derek asks as I walk into the galley kitchen.

  “Brett was standing in front of the bathroom door when I opened it. Smashed his pretty nose.”

  “Hope the dumbass gets black eyes,” Jason rumbles from his seat before taking a drink of Dr. Pepper.

  “It would serve him right after the stunt he pulled last night,” Derek replies, taking a sip out of his chipped coffee cup.

  “Yeah, it would,” I sigh as I grab a plastic baggie out of the cabinet and fill it with ice. “But we need him to sing tonight and he’ll sound like shit if his nose is swollen.”

  “Maybe the groupies will leave him alone because he’s disfigured,” Derek jokes.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath. They’ll want to kiss it and make it better,” Jason groans.

  “Let’s see if we can minimize pretty boy’s swelling for tonight.”

  Camryn - July

  Hanging up the phone with Isaac, I feel giddy knowing he’s going to be back from touring soon. Excitement races through me at the thought of being held in his arms. It’s been rough, but the distance has helped us learn more about each other than just the physical. Although…I do miss his arms wrapped around me.

  As I walk toward my bedroom to get ready for bed, my phone rings from the table, Mallory’s ringtone loud in the otherwise quiet room.

  “Hey, girl,” I say as I swipe my thumb across the screen.

  “Drop everything. Kris is in the hospital. She’s stable, but no other details were released.”

  “What the heck?” I ask, incredulous.

  “I don’t know. The cop called me when they couldn’t reach her parents.”

  “Which hospital?”

  “Mine. I’m heading there now. She was still in the ER when he called, but she could be moved by the time we get there,” she answers, breathless, as if she’s rushing around.

  “Crap. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  Damn, now I’m glad I hadn’t changed for bed yet. Sliding my feet into my flip flops, I grab my purse and hurry out to my Jeep Compass. Jesus, please make her okay. My hands shake so bad, I hit the panic button, sending the piercing sound into the quiet night.

  “Fuck,” I cry out, tears blurring my vision. After several bumbling attempts, I finally get the damn thing shut off and climb in, drawing several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my pounding heart.

  “Get it together, Camryn. She’s going to be okay. You won’t do her a damn bit of good if you get into a wreck on the way to the damn hospital.” I start the car and get on the road.

  Stretching, I try to reposition myself in the uncomfortable chair. Mallory and I have been sitting in Kristen’s hospital room since we arrived last night, and my muscles are letting me know they are missing my soft mattress.

  I glance over at Kristen laying so still in the bed. I still can’t believe what happened to her.

  “Denny said she wasn’t stabbed at her apartment, right?” I ask, looking over at Mallory as she stares out the window. She turns in my direction.

  “No, he doesn’t think so. Not enough blood.”

/>   “That’s gruesome to think about,” I say with a shudder.

  “Yeah. Maybe you’re getting soft at your cushy ass job.”

  “Funny, Mal. Real funny,” I respond with an eye roll.

  “Anyway, he said the majority of the blood was in her car. His theory was she was stabbed, then got in the car and drove home.”

  “Why would she drive home after being stabbed? That makes no sense. Do you think this has anything to do with her stalker?” I shake my head as I turn to look at the bed. Josh was our former CrossFit instructor who became obsessed with Kristen after they only went on one date.

  “I don’t kn—”

  “Kristen!” I cry out when I see her looking around confused. I’m over to the side of the bed before I even realized I moved.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Kristen tries to answer, but all that comes out is a strange noise. There’s a plastic cup of water on the table, and I hold it up to her, placing the straw to her lips. After a few sips, Kristen tries again.

  “What happened? Why am I here?” Her brow furrows as she tries to remember.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” Mallory coaxes.

  “I remember getting off work, stopping to pick up some coffee creamer, then going home.”

  “Well, at some point, someone decided to slice and dice you. The doctor says you have a five-inch knife laceration. Got quite a few stitches too. We don’t know when it happened. Denny called us when he saw you laid out in the parking lot next to your car. You were unconscious, so he called for an ambulance. You’d lost quite a bit of blood and went into shock. They got you stitched up and gave you a unit,” Mallory informs her.

  “Jesus. Really?” I nod when she looks at me. Kristen moves her gaze to Mallory, and she nods too as tears pool in her eyes. The enormity of the situation starts to hit. We could have lost Kristen last night.

  “It was the blonde from the store,” Kristen cries out, startling me.

  “What blonde?” we both ask in surprise.

  “While I was in the store, I kept feeling like someone was watching me, following me. I kept seeing a blonde woman in the dairy section, then over by the pajamas. She bumped into me outside, by my car. She hit me hard enough to make me stumble, and I remember my side hurting. I got in the car to head home, but the closer I got, I started feeling weird and got lightheaded. I nearly fell out of the car. I tried to get Denny’s attention, but I couldn’t. That’s all I remember. Can I have another sip of water?” I pick up the cup and place the straw to her lips. “How long have I been here?”