A New Life Series - Finisher Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  “I’m not hung over!” she denied the charge, “And I never touched the glass. I stared at it; that’s it. And who the hell told you I was there, anyways?”

  Lips pursed; Mark flipped open a tabloid in front of her, her picture plastered across the front page, causing her to gasp loudly. “Holy shit, that was fast! Who the hell took the picture?!?” Her dark hair partially covered her face, but the bottle and glass sitting in front her passed out form told the story clearly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he bit angrily. “That’s how it works in showbiz. People take pictures and to get the scoop, they gotta move fast. You know what this says?” he slapped the page with his free hand.

  “No,” her doleful eyes stared at the image.

  “It says you’re a drunk! And then you show up here, looking like shit and moping around like you have one hell of a hangover,” he clenched his jaw. “And it puts all the hard work I’ve done on your behalf in jeopardy.”

  Tori’s gaze shifted, the words looking like shit ringing in her ears, she shouted, “Well, I don’t feel fucking good today, and that ain’t why!” she slapped the pages out of his hand and watched them scatter beneath her.

  “What the hell is going on over here?” Michael interrupted them, and she noticed that the entire room was staring at them.

  Shifting uncomfortably, she held up both hands in the form of surrender. Swallowing hard, she realized there wasn’t any point in denying any of it; the evidence lay in black and white on the floor. “I need a break,” she stated flatly and turned her back on the group, making her way to the door.

  Climbing on the elevator, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder to see if anyone had followed her. Much to her relief, they hadn’t, and she made her way downstairs easily enough. Locating the car, the driver sitting in the front seat reading a book, she knocked on the window, “I need to get inside,” she spit out as calmly as she could muster.

  “No problem, hop in,” he smiled, tossing a thumb towards the back.

  Opening the door and closing it with a heavy slam, Tori wriggled into the seat, laying her head back and breathing deeply. If they gave awards for stupid moves, you could be a daily contender; she cursed herself as she stared at the roof above her. Continuing to inhale and then exhale in a slow and steady rhythm, she could feel herself begin to relax, followed by a deep urge to crash.

  A little nap, that’s all I need, she rationalized as she lay over in the seat. Curling her legs up onto the leather covering, she rested her cheek on her hands, closed her eyes, and a few minutes later she was out cold.

  Crazy Lifestyle

  Tori awoke to find the rest of the group taking their places in the car around her. Sitting up on the seat, she stretched, mumbling her inquiry as to what was going on.

  “We’re done,” Brian stated flatly. “Shoot’s over. We finished without you.” His expression bleak, he gave her an ominous ache in the pit of her stomach.

  Scooting over next to her, Michael claimed her hand before reaching up to smooth the red marks left on her face from the seat, “Jesus, love, are you ok?”

  “I’m fine. Really tired, that’s all,” she looked at him, aware that everyone stared at her once again. “So, it’s ok? They weren’t mad or anything?”

  “They weren’t happy, if that’s what you mean,” Mark quipped, “And how things will go remains to be seen. Suffice it to say, you get to rest tonight, and we pick up again tomorrow. Go to bed, get some fucking sleep. We still have a few weeks to repair the damage before you get your time off.”

  Tori inhaled sharply, trying to make sense of things as her thoughts seemed hazy at the moment. “And what happens after my break?”

  “We get back to work. We still have a lot to do, and there is the private concert that will take place after you get back,” he paused, rolling his tongue. “I don’t have to tell you I’m disappointed in you. I think most everyone here is, at this point.”

  Tori flinched, ready to accept her reprimand.

  “All we can do is go from here,” he continued, pointing a stiffened finger at her. “That means that you have to be on your best behavior. No more late night escapades. No more hanging all over Enrique in public places. You’re on the edge, and a shift in public opinion could send you over.”

  Tori nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” she glanced at the man to her left, surprised they hadn’t insisted that he leave. Inhaling deeply, she spoke in a low tone, “I’m really sorry about all of this.” She made the apology, still not sure why it had all happened.

  Over the course of the next week, Tori struggled with her exhaustion and took naps often to overcome it. She focused hard on doing what they asked of her, keeping her mouth shut most of the time to avoid the snide comments that seemed to fly out of nowhere whenever she spoke. She kept to herself most of the time as a last resort to combat the inner rage that had taken over her mind and spirit, as the least little thing would be enough to send her into a tirade.

  Enrique and the others hardly spoke to her, keeping their distance in an effort to maintain the peace. His absence bothered her more than she wanted to let on, growing sullen and somewhat resentful that Michael was the only one who spent any real time with her.

  He quickly became more like her jailer rather than her spouse, and she could feel their relationship deteriorating under the strain. A full seven days after the picture of her with a bottle of vodka hit the front page, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on.

  Deciding she needed to speak up, she called a meeting with the rest of the group, opting for the privacy of their suite. The group of men appeared tense, taking seats in chairs that formed a circle, reminding her of group sessions back in the hospital. Looking around calmly, she did her best to put their minds at ease. “Hey, guys; relax. It’s only a rough spot,” and she gave them her best smile to emphasize the point. “I’m feeling better, and that’s a good sign.”

  “We’re worried about you, baby girl,” Enrique raised his chin as he spoke, the dark circles under his eyes evidence of his concern. “I’ve been staying away from you, but you don’t really looks like it’s helping.”

  Tori grinned, “It’s helping, baby. Really it is.” Biting her lip, she paused, “I guess what I wanted was to thank you all for your support and for your patience. I think you know this hasn’t been easy for me. The stress here,” she chuckled lightly, “Well, this’s different from anything else I’ve ever done.”

  “That’s all I can say as far as the reason. I’m just tired, and it puts me in a bitchy mood. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I’m learning how to fight it. And I think you all can agree that’s exactly what I need. I have to do it before we go on the tour, where I’m sure things are going to be just as hard, if not worse.” She cast her eyes around the group, noticing their nods of agreement.

  “I also know that most of you don’t believe me, but I wasn’t drunk when those pictures were taken. Yes, I went to the bar. I was pissed off. Yes, I ordered a drink and told him to leave the bottle. And yeah, I touched the glass and thought about drinking it, but I didn’t.” Her voice took on a quiver, “I was sick the next day; plain old sick, not hung over.”

  “It’s ok,” Brian responded softly. “We’re not mad at you. At least I’m not. I feel pretty responsible for what happened.”

  Tori stared at him, “Why’s that?”

  He shrugged slightly, searching for the words. Leaning forward in his chair, he placed his elbows on his knees, “Well, I knew how hard this life could be, and I did everything I could to bring you into it.” He hung his head, hands grasping one another in front of his face, “It was pretty selfish of me.”

  Michael grunted aloud, causing Brian to look up, nodding at his brother-in-law. Yeah, I know, you tried to warn me, but I wasn’t listening; he spoke to the other man telepathically. “Anyways,” he straightened in his seat, “You’re here, and we all want to do whatever we can to help you be successful.”

  The remainder of t
he group quickly echoed his sentiments, and Tori smiled, fairly certain they felt genuine concern. “Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it, and I’ll do my best to keep up with your crazy lifestyle.”

  Standing, the meeting adjourned, and the couple was left alone in their room. Moving over to the window, she looked out across the sparkling lights below them, a little sadness eating at her gut. Enrique has been keeping his distance so that I feel better, so why is it that I actually feel worse? She missed him, only having the thought bring a wave of guilt. Damn, why am I still stuck here? I shouldn’t feel this way after all this time.

  Michael had been keeping himself at bay as well, and it occurred to her that it had been over a week since they had been intimate. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gone so long without. Had to have been before we were married. She released a deep sigh, nope. It was after he burned himself in Florida, when we had our first little dispute.

  Quietly, Michael slipped up behind his wife, sliding his arms around her waist. “What are you thinking about, love?” he cooed softly through her hair.

  Running her hands along his arms, she smiled softly, “Trying to remember the last time we made love.” He made an odd sound, and she pulled herself free enough to turn and look at him, “What’s that for?”

  “I’m not sure you’re up for making love,” he whispered as he smoothed her hair. “I’m not even sure what to think anymore.” He leaned his forehead against hers, desperate to avoid stressing her any further.

  “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” her voice cracked, dripping with sadness.

  “Come on, you know that’s not what I meant. I’m… worried about you. I love you so much…” his voice trailed away, his hands moving over her body. “I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you about Enrique, either.”

  Tori stiffened, “Why do you say that? Did you ask him?”

  “No, I didn’t ask him!” he coughed a laugh at the question. “I decided I wasn’t being fair to you. I mean, it’s almost like our fight was the straw. You know the one that broke the camel’s back. So I’m more than satisfied you were telling the truth. Besides, that makes it essentially my fault, and I hate that. But, at least you’re on the mend.”

  Tori’s smile flickered, her hand moving up to run along the line of his jaw and hold him at the nape of his neck, her thumb caressing his ear, “I’m fine, love. And it’s not your fault or anyone’s fault really. I got sick. That means I’ll get better.” Leaning her brow against his once more, she whispered hoarsely, “Make love to me?”

  Giving her a small chuckle, he grasped her more firmly, “You know I’m always up for making love to my wife.” His voice cracked slightly at the words my wife, the emotion they held for him evident.

  Lifting her chin, she kissed him, her hands searching for the edges of his shirt so she could remove it, “Well, then,” she admonished quietly, “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  Kiss and Make Up

  Within in a few minutes, they were both naked, stretched out on their bed. Running his hands over her body, he noticed that she tensed when he grasped her breast, his thumb sliding over his name. “You really ok?” he demanded gently.

  “Yeah, just tender, that’s all,” she focused on relaxing her features that had shifted into a frown.

  Michael slid his hands smoothly over her skin, then parting her legs he pushed his way inside her. Kissing and nuzzling her neck, he breathed into her ear, catching her leg and raising it to gain fuller access to her wet interior. She had seemed eager when they first began, but he could sense a shift in her emotions and her desire ebbed rapidly.

  Tori felt a stab of pain as he moved, her brow crinkling in confusion. Clawing at his back, she drew deep breaths, refusing to acknowledge the discomfort being with him produced. She wanted this, wanted to show him that she loved him. So why was her body refusing to cooperate?

  Continuing, he pushed harder, doing his best to satisfy her in the darkness, and becoming driven to finish by the slight sound of a whimper. Holding himself over her in the dim glow, small drops of sweat glistened on her forehead, her features drawn and no longer enjoying their the activity.

  He stared down into her crystal blue eyes, while sad thoughts drew lines into his forehead. He could feel fear in his gut, afraid that she lay with him, but she really wasn’t his anymore. He had no evidence that she had been with the other man, and she had been ill for days, which didn’t sit well with him either. She seemed to be on an emotional roller coaster, and was dragging him along with her for every bump along the way.

  Bending over to kiss her pretty lips, he whispered his affection and then slid off to the side, not bothering with a shower. Facing the wall, he pulled the covers tighter against him and waited to see what his wife would do. It came as no surprise that she turned her back on him, staring out the window, and he listened to the calmness of her breathing until he fell asleep.

  Tori lay still, waiting for him to lose consciousness, and allowed a small sigh of relief when it finally happened. She had been turning her ring on her finger, and slid it out to the end to toy with it in the faint light that shone in through the panes of glass. Slithering out of the sheets, she stepped over to stare down at the glimmer of cars and streetlamps covering the ground below.

  Heaving another cleansing breath, her mind turned, her thoughts roaming over the last few weeks and months. She knew she was still plagued by the physical urges, the ones that had provoked her husband to send her into the arms of another. ‘Don’t make love to that man,’ he had said. Does he have any idea how much those words hurt me? Or how they have torn at me?

  Of course, he didn’t, and wouldn’t either because she never said. I’m not very good at talking, she admitted to herself as she shifted her gaze to the sleeping figure across the room. You show him the angry… you never show him the pain. A tear slipped from her eye, and she wiped at it crossly, oh, now you wanna cry? What the hell is the matter with you? Can’t think straight, overly emotional, tired, lost?

  She felt annoyed at the conundrum that seemed to be playing havoc with her health. On Christmas morning, Enrique had walked back into her life, throwing her heart and mind into chaos. That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, love, not you. She would like to blame her mate for her conflicting thoughts, but in the end her husband’s choice to look the other way only added fuel to the smoldering fire.

  Leaning her head against the glass, she continued to watch him, barely able to make out the rise and fall of the blanket as Michael slept. He’s here for you. You know he would do damn near anything for you. Another tear, and this time she let it drip. You’re such a stupid bitch. Your life is perfect. It’s whatever you want it to be, and you can’t even decide. And you damn sure don’t love him enough.

  Moving into the bathroom, Tori closed the door quietly and turned on a cold shower. Stepping beneath the gentle spray, she washed the streaks from her face, then lay her cheek against the wall.

  The air moving across her lips in deep puffs, a wave of nausea hit. She recalled the night she had lied to him about being ill. The night Mason Hunt touched me and sent me into a tither. It had been a lie then, but tonight she thought she might actually vomit. Karma come to get me.

  That’s another time I had proven myself to be unworthy of him; she judged herself harshly at the way she had used her husband to satisfy her physical impulses. The needs the other man awoke inside me.

  Resting her hand against the wall, she stared at her ring. For Tori, love of my life. She couldn’t see the words, but she knew they were there. Why? Why does he care about you so fucking much? You… don’t… deserve it.

  She cut off the torrent and reached for her towel, her hand trembling as she did so. She was tired of playing the game, exhausted at always putting on her show; keeping up her façade. I’m ready for the real. How I really feel. What I really want. What is it that I really want?

  Her flesh pimpled from her cool shower, she placed
her palms flat on the counter and leaned forward; the cloth draped across her back, she stared at herself in the mirror.

  Her scar glared back at her, taunting her. Her mind racing, it leapt to the photograph that Eddie had taken of her when it was fresh. She had discovered the ragged picture in Michael’s wallet not long ago when she was snooping.

  She had been shocked to find it there, and even more so that Eddie had sent it to him. A threat, perhaps? Or to brag, more like. Her husband had kept it, the only personal item among the contents. Jesus, how many times, and how many ways, do you have to see it? That man loves you. More than loves you.

  You could have the whole world at your feet, living this stupid crazy life with your brother. She drew a ragged breath, but you are the whole world to Michael. Pulling open the door abruptly, she was startled to discover him standing outside of it.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded with a hint of anger.

  Eyes wide, she struggled to breathe, her lip quivering wildly. Reaching for him, she grabbed and held his warm flesh against her. “Nothing, baby.”

  She ran her hands up to the nape of his neck, finding the sandy curls with the tips of her fingers, “Could you just… hold me?” She could feel his tension as she clung to him, and knew she had upset him, again.

  However, he complied, and his muscular arms wound around her. “Like this?” he breathed into her hair.

  “Tighter,” her voice trembled, “Like you won’t ever let me go.”

  He laughed quietly, sliding and shifting his hold to get a better grip, hands moving up her back beneath her dark, damp waves. “You have any idea how much I love you?” he whispered. “There’s no chance of my ever letting you go.”

  Her palms going sweaty, Tori swallowed hard. Damn. I love him so much. Need him like I’ve never needed anyone. Taken with the urge to express her feelings, she wanted to say I love you. But words weren’t enough and never had been.