by K. S. Thomas
His gaze travels back and forth between me and her and I think he understands. “Miss? You can keep your friend company for a minute while I finish up.” Then, she gets closer and he gets a better view of her jawline. “Were you hit tonight?”
She nods, but her eyes are still steady on me. “Yes, sir.”
“Who hit you?”
“Moe Hollis. I was trying to break up the fight.” Her soft fingertips gently trace around the corner of my mouth where I can feel the blood drying already.
The cop leans in closer to talk to her. “Listen, if he hit you, you can press charges. I don’t know if it’ll stick, but it would probably help offset what happened to your friend here tonight.”
Slowly, her face turns away from mine. I hate that I dragged her into this mess. I should have walked away. Should have gotten in the car with her the way she asked. She never would have seen me like that. Like this. Never would have had a hand laid on her. Wouldn’t have a bruise the size of his fist on her beautiful face. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at her again without wanting to beat the shit out of him.
Myself. That’s another story. It’ll be a while before I can pass a mirror in peace, I know that much.
“Okay. Yes, I want to press charges.” Even her voice sounds different. Her words are still fierce, but her tone isn’t.
“Alright.” The officer nods at both of us. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he turns and walks off, she takes another step in my direction until she’s so close our bodies are almost touching. Well, they are touching. Parts of them anyway. Her knees are bumping into mine. They’re shaking. And every so often it’s causing her to overcompensate while she tries to maintain her balance, and her hips sway into mine. More than anything, I want to hold her. Make her feel safe, the way I should have when this whole thing started. But I can’t because my fucking hands are cuffed behind my back.
“Who do you want me to call?” she asks quietly.
“Ava. She’ll know what to do.” She’ll also shit a canary when she finds out about tonight, but that’s okay. She’ll make that wait. First she’ll fix this, because cleaning up after people is what Ava does best.
“I already did that. She’s not answering, but I’ll keep trying. I’m pretty sure she and Blaise had plans tonight.”
“Bam Bam.” I need her to look up at me. To face me.
“What?” But she refuses.
“Look at me.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She covers her face with her hand. “You’ll see it.”
The bruise. After the way I flipped when I saw her get punched, I’m not surprised she’s scared to let me see the results. But it’s too late. I’ve already seen them. “I can handle it. I promise, I won’t flip out again, although I’ll never forgive myself for letting him leave a mark on you.”
Her face tips back, her eyes are pooled with tears and something else, something new I’ve never seen in them before. Something I’ve never seen when anyone looked back at me.
“That’s not what I’m trying to hide from you,” she whispers. “I’m much better at keeping my feelings for you under wraps when I’m not confronted with the prospect of seeing you hurt or arrested.”
Feelings for me?
I’m too fucking stunned to say anything, let alone ask her to explain. Then, the cop is back and placing me in the backseat of his car before I have a chance to tell her anything. Not that I have a fucking clue what to say to her anyway.
I watch through the window as a female officer approaches her and starts taking her statement in order to move forward in pressing charges against Moe. I already knew she was only doing it for me. But now that I know why, suddenly it means something completely different. It’s not for Ava. Or because we’re family. It’s for me. Only me.
Chapter 5
“What the hell happened to your face?” My sister drops her fork in the middle of her plate when she sees me. When she didn’t answer my calls, I took up tracking her down. Wasn’t all that hard. She and Blaise hit this spot on the regular. It’s their favorite.
“Never mind. I need you to get up and come with me. Seriously. Now.”
She stands up straight out of her seat, but it’s only to examine my face. “What? Why?”
“Because. We had a run in with Moe. And he’s been arrested. You have to go to him.”
Blaise is on his feet now too. “Who’s been arrested? Moe?”
I shake my head. I can’t say it out loud again.
“Angel’s been arrested?” My sister is clearly struggling with this news. Judging by the way Blaise is eyeing my jaw, he’s finding it a whole lot easier to grasp.
“That have anything to do with it?” He juts his chin out briefly as if to point at my swelled up face.
“They were already fighting. I tried to break them up.” I start waving my hands impatiently, gesturing for them to hurry up and come with me. The little bistro is private and all, but I still don’t feel like rehashing the evening’s events right here in the middle of their dining room.
Blaise cuts across me to look at Ava. “What do you want to do?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and sways her head back and forth the way she always does when she’s trying to unscramble the thoughts in her mind. “I need to call Arnold.” Their lawyer. “And Francis. The media will be all over this.”
Finally they start moving, only now I’m like an afterthought. I’ve served my purpose and I’m no longer needed which becomes abundantly clear when we reach the parking lot and Ava barely turns back to yell at me while she’s climbing in the passenger seat of Blaise’s car.
“Do me a favor and take Angel’s car back to his place. I’ll call you when I know what’s happening.”
Then the door slams shut before I can even answer.
“Sure thing,” I mumble. Even if it’s only to myself. Not that I care about being ditched. I’m not the one who needs her. And knowing that Angel finally has some viable back up is all I really need to start calming my nerves a bit. Well, for the most part anyway. There’s still that sticky little detail of me unloading my secret crush on him as he was being hauled off in handcuffs. Not my finest moment and certainly not ideal timing. But I couldn’t help it. It just sort of...spilled out.
By the time I get back to Angel’s it’s almost midnight. I can’t believe where this night has gone. Doing my best to be quiet, I sneak inside and hang up his keys, then I make my way to the living room, fully intending to camp out on the couch until Ava calls me or Angel shows up. Either way, I’m not moving until I get some news.
Except as I’m thinking it, I realize others might feel the same way. So, I get back up and start creeping up the stairs to the guest room Derek’s been crashing in. Officially I still don’t know about the whole Sammy and him disaster, but I’m putting that aside for now, because if it were me, I’d want to know my best friend was arrested for beating up his sperm donor.
I knock several times and then wait. Nothing. I try again, harder, then press my ear to the door. Still nothing. Finally, I get tired of standing out in the hall like an idiot and crack the door open to peek inside. The room is completely empty. The bed is made. There’s not sign of Derek anywhere.
“Well, I tried.” I close the door again and head back down the stairs. My efforts regarding the Finding Nolan crew and maintaining their overlapping relationships are done for tonight. I’m getting back on that couch, and I’m staring at that door until I see it open.
But things don’t go exactly according to plan. I’m still on the couch, and I may even still be facing the door, but my eyes closed somewhere along the way and when they open, it’s to the sound of his voice.
“Hey,” he says softly, his hand on my shoulder. “Come here.”
I barely open my eyes to meet his when his hands move around me, wrapping me up in his arms for a hug so long and so tight, I almost forget
I’m the one who’s supposed to be doing the comforting.
“Fuck, Bam Bam. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do,” he whispers into my uncombed hair. And I remember a little too late that passing a mirror at some point between his arrest and his coming home might have been handy. Not that Angel gives a shit about my hair at this particular moment in time. It’s just how my stupid brain is wired. How it’s always been wired since I’ve known him. Wanting to look and be my best in every way possible in hopes that one day I will be more than just Bam Bam, the awkward little girl who liked to bang the crap out of his drum set when they played in my mom’s garage a small eternity ago.
“You don’t need to do anything,” I say quietly. “Eda’s taking care of everything. Well, her and Francis. They’re going to take care of the lawyer shit and the media...and in the meantime, I’m here for you. Anything you need. Just tell me.” I pat his chest gently with my palm.
He breaks away from our embrace and slowly gets back to his feet. Aside from a small lamp next to the sofa, it’s completely dark in here. Doesn’t matter though. At this point, I’m pretty familiar with the place.
“I don’t know what I need. A time machine?” He laughs sadly. “I can’t believe I let shit get so out of hand today.” He runs his hands over his face and for a moment I panic wondering if he’ll start to cry. I can’t picture him crying. Not Angel. I don’t know what I would do if I saw him break down. Probably lose it as well.
“Don’t. You didn’t know he was going to be there. You couldn’t have known.” I stand up as well, but then wind up still feeling just as helpless watching while the regret and shame begin to spread.
“I should have known better than to engage with him. I should have ignored him like you said. None of this would have happened.” He stares off into the darkness.
“Angel.”
When he turns back toward me, his eyes are filled with guilt and pain, and a single tear has escaped and is slowly sliding down his cheek. And then, without thinking, I do what I thought I wouldn’t have the nerve to. I comfort him.
Cradling both sides of his handsome face in my hands, I bring it to me, gently kissing his forehead, before reaching my arms around him and holding him as tightly as I can, even as he begins to collapse, bringing us both down to the ground where he clings to me as if the underworld is coming to take him and I’m the only one who can save him from being swallowed whole by the darkness.
***
Finding Bam Bam alone and asleep in my pitch black living room when I walked in after a night in hell was the last thing I expected tonight. I also didn’t expect to be so happy to see her. So relieved. I spent the last few hours replaying the whole incident in my mind over and over again. Torturing myself with that split second in which she got hit by him. Moe. The man who helped create me. Never in my life have I wanted to be less like him and never have I been more terrified that I was exactly like him.
Because here I am with Addy. And even if she and I haven’t been in each other’s lives in recent years, she’s still family. She’s still familiar. And she’s a baby. Well, she’s supposed to be a baby. She doesn’t seem like one right now.
Not while I’m draped over her tiny lap, my arms wrapped around her entire body like she’s the anchor that can save me from drowning. No. She’s suddenly not who I remember at all. She’s older. Grown. And stronger than I ever would have given her credit for. I need someone to hold me together tonight and she’s doing that. And it’s blowing my fucking mind. Little Bam Bam, matching my tight grip on her with one of her own, pressing my head to her chest, and humming softly in my ear while she sways me back and forth in a way that is causing me to zone out in a daze that may actually lead to some fucking sleep.
She doesn’t say a single word while she strokes my hair, repeatedly kissing my forehead as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing and I wonder why it was so easy for our roles to be reversed. How she went from needing me, to being the one I needed in a flash. And I’ve never needed anyone.
I know it’s only temporary. Come morning, I’ll get a grip. I’ll pull my fucking shit together and I’ll move past this night and never look back. Because that’s what I was taught. That’s how I’ve gotten through every other shit moment of my life. And as usual, it’s the man who taught me that lesson who’s giving me reason to make use of it again tonight.
But for now. I’ll need her. Just for this moment. I’ll need her.
Those two thoughts run through my mind on repeat, looping around and around, numbing me to everything else, until the hypnotizing effect of it finally puts me to sleep.
When I wake up, I’m still lying with my head in her lap. She’s sitting with her back leaning against the couch, and even though her eyes are closed, I can tell she’s not really sleeping. Just dozing. I’m a jackass. It’s light out already and I’ve kept her trapped here on the floor for hours.
“Shit.” I scramble out of her embrace. A chill runs down the side of my body that was touching hers a second ago. “I’m sorry, Bam Bam. You shoulda woke me. I didn’t mean to just crash on you all night like you’re a fucking pillow.”
She smiles uncomfortably, arching her back and stretching the parts I was crushing up until a moment ago. “It’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest. You were talking in your sleep so much, I kept thinking you were awake again.” Her mouth twists back and forth and I get the feeling she’s not sure what to do next.
“It’s cool if you need to take off. I’m fine. Really.” I’m not. I’m really fucking not. But she doesn’t need to know that. It’s not her problem.
“That’s not it.” She frowns. “You kept talking about Moe.”
I rub my face with my palms. I don’t even wanna know which one of my more humiliating thoughts I said out loud last night. “I’m really sorry you had to hear all that.”
“Shut up.” And she shoves me for good measure. “And listen to me. You are nothing like him. Nothing. Never have been. Never will be. And I know. Because I know you. So, stop thinking that.”
“I can’t, Bam Bam. I can’t.” And all the feelings from last night surge through me all over again.
“Why the fuck not?” She’s looking at me like I’m insane. Maybe I am.
“Because...sure, we seem pretty fucking different if you look at us now. But think about it. He wasn’t always a dirty old perve. He was my age when he hooked up with my mom. And she wasn’t the only one. Women of all ages were all over him. You really think that happened because he was a creep? No! He was charming. And good looking. No one had any idea what he was like. Not until later. Not until it was too late.”
But I can tell by her expression that she still doesn’t see the similarities which are so blatantly clear to me they scare me more than anything else ever has. Well, until last night.
“Bam Bam...” I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know. I don’t think I could stand seeing that look in her eyes disappear. It’s been there ever since she told me how she felt. Now that I’ve seen it, I don’t think I could bare to see it fade away. But maybe it should. Maybe I should snuff it out before she gives me a chance to do something we’ll both regret. “The reason I know, the reason I can see how he was back then...why it was so easy...it’s all the same for me now. You don’t know how many fucking times some teenage girl has wound up in my dressing room on a mission to fuck me. Happens all the goddamn time. They get fake IDs, bribe security, sneak in with someone they know on the inside, you name it, they do it. The youngest one I’ve ever caught was thirteen. Thirteen fucking years old! She didn’t think I was some old creep. She should have, but she didn’t.”
Slowly, the expression on her face begins to change and it’s like a knife to my insides. I don’t even know why her opinion of me matters so much. It shouldn’t. But it does.
“Are you saying,” she breaks to clear her throat, “that you slept with those girls? I mean, it would still be different
if you didn’t know they were minors...”
“Fuck no!” I should just let her think that though. I shouldn’t explain. But I have to. “Almost happened once, back when we first started touring. I was eighteen, she was fifteen. We were fooling around and I just got this feeling things were off. So, I started asking her these stupid questions, like, how old was she when she got her first album and what was it. Her age was pretty obvious based on her answers and that was the end of it. Now, it’s the first thing I ask when I meet a girl. And they fucking slip up every time. Thank God.”
She’s watching me. Listening to everything. Her face is a blank fucking canvas now and it’s making me crazy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Angel, but you’re a fucking idiot if you think you are anything at all like that bastard.” Finally her face comes back to life and I don’t even care that she’s pissed the hell off. “Fine, you sleep around. You’re a big fat whore, but you don’t hurt anyone. You’re not out trying to seduce innocent young girls and you’re sure as shit not knocking any of them up. And that’s not something that’s going to change as you get older, Angel. You’re not going to wake up one morning, a nasty old man who likes little girls. And for the record, I was a little girl when you were well on your way to being a grown man. And you were never anything but kind to me. In fact, you set a standard so high, I’ve yet to meet another man who treats me as well as you always did. That’s the kind of impression you left on me at eleven. And you maintained it well into my teens before you guys took off to pursue fame and fortune in the name of rock and roll.” She exhales loudly. I don’t think she meant to say all of that. Although, I’m glad she did. I’m about to tell her when her mouth opens again, this time her tone is softer when she speaks. “Also, you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened last night. I get it. He made those comments about young girls. You thought of your mom...anyone would have reacted that way.”
It’s the first thing she says that catches me off guard. Because out of everything she just said, it’s the only thing that doesn’t ring true. “That’s not why I went after him.”
