by Sadie Grubor
"Yeah, fucker, I know you still write that shit." Chris' tone is back to normal. "You should probably consider writing some lyrics instead of exhausting my brilliance all the fucking time."
A laugh breaks through the emotional clog in my throat.
"You're an arrogant bastard," I state in a strained laugh.
"You'll do what I ask, yeah?"
"Yeah," I sigh, dropping my head back on the seat.
"Good. Talk soon." He hangs up. Typical Christopher.
The sound of my cell phone shocks me from the Jack Daniels and cocaine stupor. I twist to grab my phone from the side table. The motion knocks an empty bottle onto the floor.
Rubbing my eyes, I try to focus on the screen.
"Fuck!" I growl to the empty room, seeing a text from Red and not the call from Chris I’m expecting.
I do a quick dial to Christopher and it goes straight to voicemail. Sniffing, I drop the phone and rub my face. Wrapping my fingers around the neck of the JD bottle beside me, I lean back against the headboard and uncap the bottle, draining the last drops. I close my eyes, letting the liquid burn in my chest.
Picking the vial up off the bed, I put two bumps into my system before returning to Red's text. Anything to distract me. I swipe the screen.
Red: Since you won't return my messages. Kel's Liza's lil' bro. She doesn't have a man.
Her brother? He's her fucking brother?
"He's her fucking brother." Saying the words out loud somehow makes it humorous. Laughter erupts from my chest.
Chest warm and body numbing, I stagger off the bed. She's let me believe she's with someone. It's time to find out why.
Liza
"So, he didn't show up tonight?" Sid asks, sounding a bit distracted.
"No, thank God," I sigh, readjusting myself in the bus seat. "I was sure he'd confront me for ducking out."
"Not gonna lie, I'm kind of disappointed he didn't show."
"Gee, thanks." I roll my eyes, not that she can see me.
"What can I say? I live vicariously through your romantic interludes," she says, her voice a wistful sigh.
"I don't think I'd call them romantic interludes," I snort.
"True. More like lust-crazed, hard-on directed stalking," she retorts, her voice growly. "Whew, it's enough to get me worked up just talking about it."
"You have problems," I laugh.
"You say this like it's a surprise," she responds. "So, why are you calling me if there aren't any gritty, dirty, rocker tales to spin?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, does my regular life bore you?"
"I wasn't going to say anything, but after all the excitement lately, I don't know if I can go back to the mundane of these late night calls."
"Bitch."
"Flatterer." Sid's voice is sickly sweet.
"I'm calling because we had an employee meeting before the show tonight."
"And?" she presses.
"And Red is implementing compensation packages."
"He's what?" Now I have her full attention.
"Yeah. I'm actually getting a raise, health benefits options, and there are fringe benefits as well."
"What kind of fringe benefits?" Sid perks. "Like access to hot, dirty, tattooed rocker boys?"
"You're such a slut," I giggle. "No, not the rocker boys. However, we will have consultations with a dermatologist, full access to a local spa, and a gym membership benefit."
"Wow." Sid follows the word with a whistle. "This is good, right?"
"Yes and no."
I rub my forehead.
"I think this is going to really mess with the assistance I receive," I admit, dropping my voice. Not because I'm embarrassed, but because not everyone on the late night bus needs to know my business. "Don't get me wrong. I'm all for supporting us on my own."
"But?" she pushes.
"Well, just mentally calculating my finances, this new compensation plan will probably mean I'll lose the HUD funding and have to find a new place to live. It will also cut off medical assistance for Kel and Lucas."
I take a deep breath.
"Sid, this puts me in a bracket that should be great, but what it really does is make me more financially strapped. A new place means moving expenses. And one I'll be able to afford may result in moving away from a neighborhood I feel good having Lucas in. It could put him in a new school district and be crappier than where we live now. And call me crazy, but what about Sean? He's staying with us until his grandma gets out of the hospital. What if she doesn't get better? How am I supposed to walk away from him?"
"Don't get too worked up yet. Let's sit down and go over everything. Get all your budget information out, have your comp plan ready tomorrow, and give me a call. I'll do a quick search for some apartments to get average costs and utilities. We'll work this out. But, Liza, Sean is a different story. I'm not trying to sound like an asshole, but you don't have any legal rights to the kid. There's nothing you can do there."
"You sure you want to deal with all this?" Guilt wrinkles my forehead. I haven't told her about Mrs. Jackson's request to sign over guardianship to me. "It's not really something you have to—”
"Don't finish whatever you're about to say," Sid says, her words laced with anger. "I love you. You're more like a sister than a cousin. I'll always be there for you, so stop being stupid. Hell, maybe I'll just move out there with you. I haven't signed the lease on the apartment here yet."
"I'm not letting you give up your apartment. I know how much you love it. Plus, your work is there." I lean my head on the cool window and close my eyes.
"I'm an online based business, Liza. I can do it anywhere, and I'm pretty sure I could pick up clients in a city like L.A."
"Sid, thank you, but you have your own life. I won't let you change it to accommodate mine." Taking a deep breath, I decide to stop the conversation before she argues with me further. "I'm almost to my stop. I'll get everything together and call you tomorrow. Okay?"
Sid huffs. "Fine, good night."
"Night." I hang up, knowing it's not the last I've heard from Sid.
With a folder full of my financial future and the guardianship information on the counter for tomorrow, I change into a pair of yoga capris and one of Sid's famous t-shirt gifts. This one with the silhouette of two tap dancers on each side of the words I'd Tap That. Sid loves a good t-shirt and wearing it keeps her close. I settle onto the pullout bed, startling at a thud on my door.
Who the hell would be here this late at—?
The next thud is louder, harder.
Hurrying from the bed, I rush to the door and pull till the chain catches.
"Tell me who he is, snake charmer." His words are loud and slurred.
"What are you doing here?" I whisper.
"Tell me," he demands, his voice louder. He presses on the door and the chain creaks in protest.
"Shh!" I scowl through the small opening. "Stop, you'll break the chain."
Jackson's forehead thumps against the wood.
"Tell me." His plea is muffled.
"Kel's my brother,” I say, my voice hushed, not wanting to cause a bigger scene.
"Your brother," he laughs loudly, pushing away from the door. "He's your fucking brother!"
I shut the door and unhook the chain. Pulling it back open, I'm met by Jackson's chest. I blink and step back.
"Why did you let me think he was your man?" There's sorrow in his eyes and I'm not sure why.
"You made the assumption and turned into an asshole." I cross my arms over my chest. "And aside from the fact that you really haven't given me much of a chance to correct you, it's not like you deserve an explanation."
"Let me in." He sways to the left and reaches up, steadying himself with the frame.
"You need to be quiet and go, Jackson. Lucas has a soccer game in the morning and I don't want him woken up."
"Please," he slurs, his body slumping into the doorframe.
Reflexively, I reach out to steady him. My hands grip his bic
eps.
"Come on," I whisper, guiding him into my apartment.
He wraps his arms around me, pressing our chests together. The warmth of his cheek flattens on the top of my head.
"Is your car downstairs?" I ask, moving him so I can shut my door with a foot.
"No. I took a taxi." His hands skim down my back until he grips my ass with both hands. "Fuck, you feel so good."
A shiver runs along the base of my spine and my pussy throbs. Goddamn him.
I reach around, pull his hands off my ass, and step back from him.
"You took a taxi?" I try to scold the stupidity of his actions, but the grin on his face makes it difficult. "That was dumb."
"Probably." He shrugs and sways once again.
"You're drunk," I sigh. "Come over here."
Taking his wrist, he quickly slides his hand into mine, and I lead him to the pullout couch.
"Sit down. I'll see if I have some instant coffee left."
He sits, but pulls me down on top of him. Long, familiar arms encase me, holding me against his chest.
"Jackson," I warn on a whisper.
One hand slips up my spine to the back of my head. He pulls my face to him, taking my mouth in an all-consuming kiss. His mouth is warm, tongue strong and determined, but the taste is wrong. Pushing on his chest, I free my mouth.
"Let go." I shove a little harder.
"I don't think I can, snake charmer," he sighs before going lax.
I push once more and his arms slip away to the old mattress.
Standing by the bed, I look at his prone form. His overgrown ass will never fit on the pullout bed, even if I try to move him. I grin and pull a throw blanket over him.
Locking the apartment door, I press my head to the wood.
What the hell am I going to do with him?
I lift my head and look over my shoulder.
With everything else, the last thing I need is to be a rockstar's fling. It was supposed to be one night. Only one night.
With a deep breath, I move away from the door toward Lucas' room. I peek in, finding Lucas and Sean still sound asleep. I let out a sigh of relief, go back to the pullout, and climb over Jackson. Finding a spot on the other side, I lay down and try to get some sleep.
I'll just have to make sure I'm up before Lucas, Sean, and Kel. He's got to be out of here before they wake up.
The squeeze of my left breast jolts me awake.
"This is the best fucking way to wake up." Jackson's warm breath fans my cheek.
Relaxing just a bit, I pull his hand out of my shirt and sit up.
"You need to get going." I rub my neck, trying to work out the stiffness.
"Jesus, you don't sugar coat, do you?" Chuckling, he rolls to his back and groans. "Christ, do you sleep on this thing every night?"
"Not all of us live out of five star hotels." The words are sharper than intended, but I'm tired and stressed. "Look, you need to go before Lucas comes out here and finds you."
"Why?" He sits on the edge of the bed, rolling his neck till it cracks.
"Why?" I ask, exasperated.
"Yeah, why?" He stands, stretching his arms over his head. His fucking fingertips touch my ceiling.
"Because he doesn't need to see you waking up here." I step into the bed and walk across it, intending to show him the door.
"Where's your bathroom?" He starts down the hall and finds it on his own.
I groan and step into the small kitchen, filling my kettle with water before setting it on a burner.
Jackson strides back down the hall, hair in disarray, clothes rumpled, and a half-grin on his face. My nipples, heart, and pussy join forces in the great fuck-him-now campaign. I swallow hard, fighting the urges.
His eyes meet mine, holding them while he sits on a stool at the breakfast bar.
"You need to leave." Even I can hear how weak it sounds.
The half-grin on his face widens to a full smile.
"Have breakfast with me." Mischief glints in his eyes.
"Funny," I blurt, still battling the urge to lay across the bar and let him have whatever he wants.
He licks his bottom lip in a slow motion. I hold in a whimper and walk away.
"I need to use the bathroom."
"Uh huh." His chuckle follows.
After relieving myself, I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face before exiting the bathroom.
In the kitchen, Jackson opens and closes cabinets.
"What are you doing?" I keep my voice down, not wanting to wake anyone else.
"Looking for mugs." He opens the right cabinet. "Ha, found them."
Taking two out, he places them on the counter.
"Do you have coffee?" He raises a pierced brow.
"I don't know if there's any left. I have tea bags up there." I point to the small cabinet above the stove. "If you move, I'll get the stool and—”
"Stool? Really?" His look is incredulous.
Raising one arm, he opens the cabinet and pulls down the tea bag box.
"Yeah, well, I have to use the stool," I mumble.
He snorts.
"If you’d like, I can lift you up?" Wiggling his brow, he sticks his tongue out.
"You're such a comedian in the morning."
Taking the box, I move the mugs to the bar and put a teabag in each one. Jackson returns to his stool with the kettle and pours the water. I grab the sugar and a spoon. When we both finish doctoring our tea, he pulls the folder I left out in front of him.
"Hey." I slide it away from him.
"I already looked at it." He puts the mug to his mouth and blows.
Heat flushes my chest and neck.
"It amazes me how you can get on stage the way you do, but blush like this in person. It's intriguing." He sips.
"You didn't have the right to look at my personal things." Head down, I keep my hand pressed on the folder.
"I know," he responds without regret. "So, Red is doing well by his staff, but you're worried."
Surprised by his assessment, I look up and meet his eyes.
"What makes you say—?"
"Your previous budget," he responds, still no regret or shame.
I drop my face again, feeling the heat rise.
Damn it, what am I going to do? If he can eyeball the problems with a short glance, I am right to be so worried.
"Hey," his finger slides under my chin and lifts. Our eyes meet. "You don't have to be embarrassed. My mom and I lived on state—”
"I'm not embarrassed because I get help." I pull my face away from his fingers. "I mean, no, it's not something I bring up in everyday conversation, but I'm not embarrassed. I'm not one of those sit at home and leech money off the government types."
His hands come up, palms out.
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. Just saying I didn't always have money." He shrugs. "Sure, I’ve spent more time with money than without, but it wasn't always like that."
"I didn't mean to get defensive. I'm just stressed."
Why the hell am I talking about this with him?
"Anyhow, it's not something we need to talk about." I sip at my tea and look at the wall behind him.
"Where's Lucas' dad?" Jackson puts his forearms onto the bar, leaning forward.
"He's not around."
"But where is he?" he presses. "Why isn't he around?"
Setting my mug on the bar a bit too hard, I place both palms on the countertop.
"It's not any of your business." I narrow my eyes.
"No, but I made a mistake about your brother and that cost me time with you, so I’m going to make damn sure I know what’s up." His eyes don't leave mine. “Plus, I’m curious.”
"It's not an unusual tale. Pregnant at fifteen, he just turned eighteen. I thought he loved me. He didn't. End of story." Straightening, I pick my mug back up.
"I think there's more to it."
"He didn't know how young I was," I say around the mug.
"You told him
you were older," he says, but there’s no judgment in his voice.
"I had a fake ID to get into a bar to watch a local band. Met him in the crowd. He drove me and Sid home. From there, I saw him for almost six months. I got pregnant and he confessed about the girlfriend he was planning to propose to." I shrug.
"Sid?" Jackson’s brows raise.
"My cousin."
"He knows about Lucas?"
"He knew I was pregnant. And about four years ago, I paid a lawyer friend to help find him and have him sign away his rights to my son."
Our eyes lock. His hold a little surprise.
"It wasn't cheap, but I don't want him popping up in Lucas' life, or mine."
"How's Lucas with it all?"
"So far, he's okay. I've told him about everything. I don't hide it from him."
"What about your parents?" He sits up, folding his arms over his chest.
"Will there be a blood test to go along with this life history?" I raise a brow.
"I'm just curious about you, Liza. You fascinate me and I want to get this right."
His answer is not what I expected.
"Don't look so surprised." He grins, dropping his arms. "I plan to know everything about you." The smile turns devilish.
"Mom, who are you talking—?" Lucas stops at the end of the hallway.
I straighten and put my mug on the counter before walking around the bar.
"What's that asshole doing here?" Lucas snarls.
"Lucas," I scold.
"It's okay." Jackson stands from the stool.
"No, it's not." I keep my eyes on Lucas. "You aren't allowed to talk like that. Jerk, Butthead, or something is fine. Heck, I might have even been okay with douchebag."
"Gee, thanks," Jackson mumbles.
I ignore him.
"What are you doing here?" Lucas narrows hard, angry eyes on Jackson.
"Your mom was nice enough to give me a place to stay last night.”
Lucas jerks his head in my direction.
"He stayed with you?" A grimace curls his lip. "After the way he treated you?"
"Lucas Campbell, watch your tone." Stepping to him, I put my arms around his shoulders. "He needed a place to sleep, so I let him stay here. Nothing else."
Lucas leans around my body to land a scowl on Jackson, and growls, "You should've told him to buzz off."
