“And…. Why?” I motion my hand for him to get on with his lame explanation.
Hey, can ya blame me for not being the least bit excited? Physically attracted to a new bodyguard isn’t exactly my idea of a good first impression. Not when I’m still pining after my old one.
You do know that history can sometimes repeat itself… right?
And as God is my witness, I don’t want to be tempted in anyway shape or form to feed the sloppy, barking, insatiable whore. She’s always awake and ready to be filled, licked or sucked. Preferably a combination of the three. Her, not me. Let’s keep that distinction crystal clear.
Ah—shit. See, just thinking about the deed has me tingly and flustered. Arg!!
“Emily, earth to Emily, come in Emily.” Johnathan snaps his fingers in front of my face, making me jump.
Crap, I zoned out. Not again…
“Huh?” I ask, so he can retell me whatever it is that I missed.
“I was explaining that Bruce here was hired after you told me you were concerned about your bodyguard and how he could perform if the time came for a show down.” He speaks to me like I’m a moron. Slow and steady, pronouncing each and every syllable and if he doesn’t fix this little macho man thing he’s got going, I’m going to rip his cock off. That’ll teach him.
But he is right; I guess I did say that, about Davis.
“Oh…o-k.…th-an-k-s.” I shoot the same slow, moronic regard back at him, while I look Bruce, ‘The Wall,’ up and down a few times. My mind is still not registering the sheer size of him. It seems like a man of his size and muscles goes against the laws of nature.
“I’m pretty sure nobody could see me, let alone hurt me, when he’s around.”
They both laugh at my level remark. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was being honest.
Scooting to the side a little, so others can pass, we chat a few more minutes before Jay Man trots off to give the band the info I was to impart from Stacy. Just before he departs, he gives me a quick squeeze and a peck on the head. He’s a sweetie… sometimes.
Now I’m stuck standing next to ‘The Wall.’ This is his officially nickname. And I must say he is the prettiest wall I’ve ever laid eyes upon.
“You’re staring.” He smiles down at me, flashing me some dazzling pearly whites.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’re used to it. Being a wall and all.”
“Wall?” He sounds surprised.
“Yes, Bruce, you’re as big as one. Just cuter,” I giggle and blush, and my compliment makes him turn fifty shades of red.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Mmmm, I don’t….,”
I cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. Now, since you’re my new guard, let’s go stand stage side and get down with some funky tunes.” I turn and hear him laugh, a full on belly rolling one.
Funky tunes, Emily? Did you seriously just say that? I’m sure he thinks I’m the biggest doofus now. Oh who gives a fuck what he thinks? Not me. Ok, maybe I do. Awe, shit, I gotta get my head on straight.
Taking long strides, I get to the side stage and find Stacy talking to some blonde woman. Talk about déjà vu. He just better pray his heart and his cock is in the right place. I for one, know that being on the road only heightens temptations. Making them even sweeter than you can imagine. The forbidden fruit—if you will.
“There you are!” I flip my messy pony, coming up behind Stacy, my hand pinching his firm derriere.
“Hey babe.” He throws his arm over my shoulder, pulling me in close, and placing a kiss on my temple.
Awe, I love Stacy!
“What cha up to?” I playfully bump my hip into his, but my eyes are staring right at this leggy blonde bimbo.
“Emily, I’d like you to meet Shelby. Shelby, this is my best friend Emily. The hottest redhead in existence.” He kisses me again and I turn to mush. I seriously have the bestest, best friend.
“Pleasure,” she says, nodding slightly.
Apparently that was my greeting. Where does he find these women?
“So Stacy, have you talked to Kyle? You know—your gay lover?” I pronounce, really loud. And he turns white as a sheet. Caught you, I knew it! You can’t sleep with women most of your life and turn to a man and expect not to get the itch that needs scratched. An itch I know Kyle would castrate Stacy for and I’d be the one holding the knife. Or whatever they use for that sort of thing. I’m no expert on the matter.
“You’re gay?” The floosy sounds surprised, and combs her fake dyed hair with her cheaply manicured nails.
“I’m not gay. I’m bi,” he explains, completely ignoring the fact that I’m standing right here, and I know everything there is to know about him. Well now I do.
I fake a cough and clear my throat. “No, sorry, Shelby, is it?” She nods. “He’s not sure what he is… not anymore. But he’s one thing for sure. He’s not interested. He has a wonderful boyfriend. So you can go find somebody else to try and sleep with you, because it won’t be any the guys from my band. So back the fuck off,” I snap, shooing her off with my hands. I’m not having any of her grossness around my band and when this bitch leaves I will be reaming Stacy a good one.
A look of complete shock that somebody would talk to her like this washes over her face. Anger flares in her eyes and she steps forward like she’s contemplating if she wants to confront me or not.
Bring it on, bitch!
“Walk away, like the lady said,” a huge voice booms over the roaring of the crowd.
Yep, Bruce, The Wall. I should have guessed.
Walking up next to me, he crosses his arms over his chest and stares her down. He’s one scary dude. Intimidating as hell. And her eyes well with tears, lip trembling and she bolts right off the stage, without muttering a single word.
Turning my body out from under Stacy’s arm I stand in front of him and lay into him. Cussing, bitching, telling him how stupid he is for possibly fucking shit up with Kyle. I don’t hold back. Not one second. And just as I am about finished the band takes the stage and Johnathan greets the crowd. Which drives them wild.
Stacy has no come backs, no retorts or snotty remarks. He just takes all I give him and now I’m standing right beside him on the stage as Johnathan finishes his opening speech.
“Well, as you all know, this was a last minute tour. A tour for all of you fabulous fans to help up celebrate the birth of our twins.” As the word twins leaves his mouth a picture of them appears on the giant screen behind Deacon. I have the most adorable babies!
“My twins, Eric and Jenna, who were birthed by my best friend, the most wonderful woman in the world, Emily.” Bright lights hit me side stage and I about go blind. I’m going to kill him for this!
“Say hello, baby.” He smiles at me and I want to stick my tongue out so badly. But I don’t. I just wave to the audience who in turn, cheer.
“So are you ready to rock?” He yells to the crowd, owning them. Making them love him. And they all scream and that’s when the first song of the night kicks off. A new song I’ve not heard before but it’s badass. Strangely enough it’s about me. The goods parts. My fiery red hair, how he loves my face, he couldn’t stand me being apart from him, even though he’s a disgrace. It rocks, and I’m not mad he wrote a song about me. It’s kind of flattering.
Three songs in and I’m full on dancing next to a morose Stacy, and The Wall, who doesn’t do anything but what his nickname might suggest. He’s blank, hard and planted in one spot; like a wall.
The fourth song hits and I’m sweating. I come to the realization this entire album is about love. Lost love, vengeful love, sweet love, tortured love, and at the same time each of the songs have bits and pieces of mine and Jonathan's relationship in them. The cheating, the drugs, the bad dreams, the pregnancy, even Colorado. It’s all here. The entire album is about our weird relationship.
Six songs in and he’s turning the audience into a puddle of emotional putty in his badass rocker hands. Singing about h
ow he loves me, hates me, wishes he could break me, fills me, thrills me, and how he wishes he could kill me.
Thanks Johnathan. Real… great. Let your kids, when they get older, hear a song about you wanting to murder their mother. Dumbass. Even though I’m not enjoying that part, it's still, like the rest, really great music. Deacon is going wild on the drums, Keith and Price are making those strings their bitches. I’m so proud of these guys. They are amazing.
At the end of the set. Johnathan is wringing with sweat but I run to the stage anyhow and throw my arms around his neck. He grabs me up, pulling me off the ground.
“Ah… realize I wrote all those songs about you baby? Now you wanna shack up and marry me… huh?” He kisses my cheek. Carrying me over to the side of the stage as I laugh, like a giddy school girl.
“No, you big dork, and we already live together. But those songs were awesome!” I admire with excitement, causing him to blush. Johnathan actually blushes. Good god, I never thought I’d see the big man blush.
“Well, I’m glad you did, baby.” Kissing my cheek again, he lowers me to the ground and I’m drenched in Stricken’s lead singer sweat. Oh well. I’m sure most of these fans would pay to be dripping with Johnathan’s hot muskiness.
Chapter Fourteen
~Emily~
Concert Night- Washington DC
It’s DC party time, bay-be! We are halfway through with the tour as of tonight. I am pumped up! And…. I’ve been drinking. That might have a bit to do with it. After Vegas, we hopped aboard the Stricken billboard bus and started our trek. Falling into a routine. Me taking care of the babies during the day, helping with the band stuff, Johnathan helping with the babies when he can. Cammy, watching the babies when I’m at the concert and then I come back afterward. Not attending the traditional drunken after party. Davis has taken his place back, protecting Johnathan. Not happily, I might add. However, me and The Wall, are now best buds.
We were in Florida two nights ago. When I was leaving the building, The Wall was right on my tail. But the crazy fool who attempted—and I do mean attempted, to grope me and didn’t make it very far. He left with a broken hand and probably a few cracked ribs. All from a big, one, two. The Wall grabbed this man’s hand as he attempted to touch me, which crushed his bones. I never knew another man could crush someone’s bones by squeezing them like that. But apparently it’s possible. I saw it go from normal to malformed in less than a three seconds. It was so gross I almost vomited. Then he punched the dude in the ribs, and I could tell he didn’t put his weight behind it. Leaving the man to walk away doubled over and whining like a pussy. Not that I could blame him. I’d probably need to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance.
So after that ordeal I’ve been hangin’ with my homey. Sweet Jesus, maybe I shouldn’t be drinking. I sound like an idiot.
Anyhow, The Wall, also known as Bruce, is a new bestie. He’s thirty, from Michigan originally. Not too far from Indiana, where I grew up. He’s got a girlfriend named Susie who he wants to marry. They’ve been together for six years. I asked him why he hadn’t popped the question yet. Apparently he didn’t think she was ready. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. I think it’s code for, I’m not ready, so I don’t think she should be either. But, hey, what do I know? I’m an ex-fiancé to the hottest man on the planet. Who I haven’t heard from since he left me in the hospital, and every night I dream about him and every day in the shower I flick my bic or use B.O.B as I picture his face and his hands ravishing my body. It’s a sick obsession and it’s just gotten worse this past week. Ever since I heard Johnathan hooking up with somebody in his bedroom. I wasn’t about to go and bother him. So I went to the other bus to give him his space. That’s where Dylan was anyhow. Spending time with the band. But those noises reminded me of what I am seriously lacking and the whore woke up and has been whining for attention more often than not.
This past week, I’ve also realized that Deacon would make an amazing dad. He’s really good with kids, especially Dylan. Who Dylan now calls Daddy D. I swear, I don’t think many of us have normal names any more. It’s all nicknames. Short Stack, Mama Bear, Em, D, Daddy D, Jay and the list goes on and on.
So right now, I’m standing outside and it’s cold. But we are just about to head into the backside of this bar for an after party. The concert tonight was great. I had a blast. And tonight is the first and only night I am going to go out and party. Cammy gave me the shove out the door. Even though I protested like a hundred times. She’s been to two of the parties, when I went back to the bus to take care of all the already sleeping children. So tonight’s my night. In DC, baby!
During the show, I may or may not have stolen Deacon’s flask of vodka and sipped on it while I stood stage side with The Wall and Stacy. It’s a secret and I’m not telling, and you shouldn’t either. So… Shhhhh….
Any-who, Stacy and I are back to being as cool as cucumbers in a room full of horny bitches. Okay, now I know that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Oh well, who gives a shit? I’m feelin’ won-der-fuckin-full.
“Hey Sugar, you comin’?” The Wall, my big beefy hunk of a bodyguard asks, holding open the big metal door to the club. Apparently the boys already went inside. Where has my head been? Weren’t they just standing here?
Ooopps, oh well.
I shrug.
“Yup. This sugar is comin’ and comin’ and oooo baby… I really wanna be comin.’ Where’s Papa Bear when I need him?” I sputter out between almost numb lips, seeing two of The Wall in my vision. I blink twice. Nope, just one. He’s just that fuckin huge.
Jesus, how much did I drink already? So much for my good old Irish roots keeping me from being a drunken skunk by the time I even get into the bar. Can you say… light weight?
“Well, Sugar, you better mosey that sexy ass of yours this a-way, or you will be locked out,” he smiles and chuckles at me as I stumble rather stupidly on these damn heels that keep sinking into the godforsaken rocks. Why do they even put rocks behind or anywhere around a club? Don’t they get that women’s shoes, that make them feel sexy, don’t do well in gravel or grass. It doesn’t take a flippin’ rocket scientist to get that logic. I mean, hello (Insert eye roll) A, plus, B, equals, get your head out of your ass and think for once.
Stepping into the club, leaving that stupid gravel behind. The Wall, nicely grabs hold of my shoulder to support and to direct me into the main hub of the club. Awe, look, now I’m rhyming.
Holy shit balls. This is beautiful. Look at all those lights. My eyes flutter over the room, taking in all the bright, vibrant colors. The floor is a matte gray. The walls a leafy green. Lots of disco balls and other weird colored lights are dancing around the entire room. The bar is a really fucking big tiki hut. Like, totally narley dude. It’s a Hawaiian themed night club.
Shot girls are clad short grass skirts, bright bikini tops and lei’s around their necks. The men at the bar are… hells to the yes. They are all, and I do mean all of them. Are men. Shirtless men. Men with big muscles and tan skin. Samoan men. And instantly my heart aches. They look so much like my Papa. My teddy bear James. Why did Johnathan or whoever picked this club out not think about this first? Dammit. Damn them!
The Wall basically parts the Red Sea of the crowd as we move across the room. Nobody stands in his way. And we go to take a seat on a tall, six chaired table, where Stacy, and oh my god— Claire!
“Claire!” I screech and she turns around, beautiful as ever. Long brown hair, blue eyes, sexy lips. Fuck she’s hot and I’m horny. Not a good combination.
“Emily!” She squeals and flies off her barstool throwing her arms around my neck for a huge hug. I almost lose my balance but The Wall places his hand on my lower back to keep me from tipping over. He’s a really good bodyguard.
“I’ve missed you,” she excitedly cries in my ear, kissing my cheek over and over, igniting my core in hotness, over and over. Smelling all sorts of delicious and her heavy breasts pressed against mine, I think I might just l
ose it right here. She’s so beautiful! And well, I’m drunk, horny, bisexual, heartbroken—and did I mention horny?
“I missed you too.” I blink a few times to reel in whatever is going on with me. I suddenly feel weird. Not the good kind either. The kind that tells me I’m in a place that I’m being followed or some weirdness like that. What is my deal?
Pulling back from her hug, both of us still smiling ear-to-ear, we sit down at the table. The Wall next to me, Claire to the other side and Stacy across, texting on his phone. Go figure.
“Can I get you something to drink?” A shot girl, with short brown hair, asks, staring right at The Wall. I know he thinks people gawk because he looks scary. But most women stare because he’s so fucking hot. Like model hot. Stacy, James, Johnathan, Deacon or Keith hot. Holy hell is there even a single man I know that isn’t drop-dead, fuck-me gorgeous? Nope!
Claire orders, Stacy mumbles something about a beer, The Wall politely declines, and in return she flashes him a big smile. She wants to fuck him!
“And you?” She asks me, pen and order pad ready.
“I’ll take six shots…,”
“Six?” Stacy chimes in, wide-eyed. Well isn’t it nice of him to join the group and stay out of texting land with no doubt his hot lover. That he almost cheated on. The bastard.
A sexy, extra yummy, Samoan bartender comes around the side of the bar and taps the shot girl on the shoulder. They exchange a few words, both of them stealing glances at me.
What the hell?
He leaves and she turns her attention back to me.
“I have been informed ma’am that you would like six shots of tequila, with lemon and salt, and two fuzzy navels, doubled up on the snapps,” she rattles off and my eyes get enormous. Who in the world knows what I drink? I’ve never drank with Johnathan. I was pregnant before I had a chance to. Now I’m really getting the heebeejeebeez.
Stricken Resolve Page 17
