by Alyssa Breck
“Really?”
“Yeah. Nobody knows where I am except for the police and my manager so the press shouldn’t show up here.”
“My neighbors would have a field day with this. It’s bad enough that I’ll be the talk of the office for the rest of my life, I’m sure.”
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a paralegal.”
“That’s an interesting job. Yes?”
“It can be.”
Lyle stretched his arms and winced before cradling his left arm against his chest. “I went to college for two years off and on. Wasn’t really my thing. I got bored and my priorities were different back then.”
“What did you study?”
“Music. I thought I might want to be a teacher.”
She pulled her feet up underneath her. “That’s a noble profession.”
“And musician is what? The work of the devil?” He leaned his head back and cut his eyes to her.
Evie reached for her wine. “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, musician is an admirable profession.”
Lyle touched her shoulder. “You need to learn how to take a joke. I’m ribbing you, Evie.”
“Oh. I’m not good at this.” She rolled her eyes and shivered as the alcohol warmed her insides and the bitterness made her close her eyes.
“Not good at what?” Lyle asked.
“I’m not really good at socializing.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“I offended you. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.” A strand of hair fell against Evie’s cheek and she tucked it behind her ear.
“You didn’t offend me. I’m not that easily offended, sweetheart. I’m not sure you’re even capable of offending me.”
“So, where are you going next on the tour?”
“We’ll be working our way across the U.S., zigzagging through the states and then we’ll circle back and have our last show here.” Lyle stretched his legs out and leaned back on the couch.
“How long is the tour?”
“About two months. We have twenty-six shows scheduled over ten weeks.”
“Wow. You all live on the bus during that time?”
“Not the entire time. The band flies most of the time but we do travel on the bus for shorter stints. We’re supposed to leave Tuesday for Nevada.”
“That must be difficult. Do you guys ever fight?”
Lyle laughed. “Fuck yes. We’re like four brothers cooped up together when we’re on the bus. Two years ago when we were on tour, Carl and I got into a brawl on the bus. Our driver pulled over and refused to go any farther until we apologized to each other and made nice.”
“What were you fighting over?” Evie asked.
“Shit. I don’t even remember now. I think that was the time he thought I ate his peanut butter pretzels.”
Evie laughed. She pictured herself stuck on a bus for two months with the people she worked with. Some of them would not survive. “I can’t imagine, really.”
“You get used to it but it’s always great to get back home and have some privacy.”
“Where’s home?”
“New York but I have a place in Los Angeles too.” Lyle’s accent wasn’t as heavy as she thought it would be.
She figured he was from the east coast though. Evie’s eyes drooped. Exhaustion from the day was taking its toll. “We should get you into bed, Lyle. It’s late.”
***
The muzzle flash looked like a firework and the pain struck the center of Evie’s chest. She lay on her back clutching a hand to her breast. Warm blood seeped out of her as the orange haired woman stood over her and laughed.
“You’re about to meet your maker, honey.” The crazy smile faded from her face and she leveled the gun at Evie’s head. “Say goodbye.” The muzzle flashed again.
Evie sat up and screamed. The house was dark and quiet but for the low volume on the television. She was still on the couch but the pillows and blanket were on the floor. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Lyle rushed into the living room. “What happened? You all right?”
Evie looked up at him and tried to catch her breath. “I’m okay. I just…I was dreaming.”
Lyle reached down and gripped her arm gently. “This is dumb for you to be out here alone. Come sleep in the bedroom. It’s probably better if we stay together.”
“Okay.” She got up but her legs were shaky and she almost fell.
Lyle held her up. “Hey, you’re supposed to be taking care of me.” He laughed softly.
“I’m sorry.” A lump lodged in her throat and she burst into tears. The gravity that she’d almost been killed a few hours ago dropped on her like a brick.
“Shit,” Lyle muttered. “Come on.” He put his arm around her and walked her slowly toward the bedroom. He pulled her into bed with him.
Evie let him. What started out as a fun girls’ night out had spiraled into a love triangle and an attempted murder worthy of an episode of Snapped.
Lyle lay on his right side and put his injured arm around her, pulling her back against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be okay, Evie.”
***
Her eyes fluttered open to find Lyle standing over her grinning.
He rubbed her arm. “I made breakfast.”
Lyle waited for her to sit down before he took a seat across from her. The last thing she expected was chivalry from someone like him. Evie stopped herself. Someone like him? Really? Congratulations. In your quest to not be like your mother, you’ve turned into a snob.
Her stomach churned and she spooned too much sugar into her coffee. Not only had he made pancakes but he’d brewed a pot of coffee. Way to go, Evie. You’re some nurse.
Lyle spread butter over his pancakes and poured maple syrup over the stack and dug in. His fork was poised halfway between his plate and his mouth. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“I think you just need a little encouragement.”
Evie couldn’t help but smile. “I’m okay. Really.”
“You are going to eat with me. Now open wide.” Lyle smirked and held the fork out toward her face.
She opened her mouth and used her teeth to pull the bite off the fork.
His eyebrows rose slowly and then went back down. “You’re clueless, aren’t you?”
“About what?” she asked.
Lyle shifted in his seat. “About how sexy that just was.”
“Me eating pancakes is sexy? Are you high?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Not just you eating pancakes. The way you slipped them off the fork with your teeth. Made me think of something else.”
The light bulb in her mind lit up and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Lyle was thinking about her mouth on something else, her teeth scraping over something else.
She’d be a liar if she said she hadn’t thought about it too. Evie was attracted to him which was odd. Men with long hair who played guitars didn’t normally appeal to her. That type reminded her of her mother. Although the men her mom brought home weren’t successful at anything but ripping them off, eating their food and screwing her mother. Lyle wasn’t that caliber of person. In fact, he was proving to be much better than she expected.
Lyle cleared his throat. “So did you enjoy the show last night? I didn’t get a chance to ask you.”
“Actually, I did. It was fun. Not generally the kind of music I listen to but it was good.”
“What do you listen to, generally?”
“Well, I like mellow music, soundtracks, that kind of thing.”
“Oh. I see. I like that stuff myself.”
“You don’t have to humor me.”
Lyle took a swig of coffee. “I’m not humoring you. I have a lot of that shit on my phone.”
“Like what?”
“The soundtrack for Grease.”
Evie blinked at him. “No you don’t.”
“I’m not s
hitting you.” He pulled his phone out and scrolled down and then turned the screen towards her. So he really did listen to Grease. “I also listen to the soundtrack to Top Gun before shows.”
“I’m impressed.” She nodded her approval.
“Show me what you’ve been listening to.”
Evie got her phone off the counter and opened up her music. The last song she’d listened to had been Natalie Merchant’s My Skin. She turned the screen to show him.
“Depressing song but she has an amazing voice. I had a crush on her back when I was a kid and she was singing with 10,000 Maniacs.”
“I like music that makes me think, makes me feel something. She’s a poet.”
“No arguments there.”
“I like your lyrics,” Evie added quietly. “They make you seem like someone who knows what it feels like to hurt. Do you write them yourself?”
Lyle polished off the last bite of his pancakes and pushed his plate aside. “I have hurt and, yes, I do write a lot of them. Some are a group effort but I write most of them myself.”
She really wished Lyle would put a shirt on because she was having a hard time concentrating with his bare chest in view. “Thanks for making breakfast. I’m a lousy nursemaid. I didn’t deserve to wake up to this.” Evie rinsed out the coffeepot and started loading the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Sure you did. But I have a feeling you’ll be making me breakfast next time.” Lyle winked.
“Aren’t you optimistic?”
“Of course, I am. I’m terribly cute too.” He batted his eyelashes at her dramatically.
As much as Evie tried to keep the ice solid, he kept breaking it.
Evie’s phone vibrated. A text message from Nina said she was on her way to drop Evie’s car off and Carl was with her.
She turned around. “Nina and Carl are on their way over.”
“For what?”
“To bring my car. I’m assuming Nina is driving my car and Carl is driving hers.”
“I hope Carl brings my shit with him. I need a change of clothes.”
“Speaking of change. I think we should change your bandage.” The hospital sent home some supplies along with his medication. “You need to take your medicine too.”
Lyle frowned. “Why do I have to take medicine? I’m not sick.”
“It’s preventative. You have an open wound. You don’t want to get an infection.”
He sighed. “Okay. Fine.”
Evie went into the living room to find the bag. When she came back into the kitchen Lyle had his arm unwrapped and was inspecting the wound.
“Ouch. That looks like it hurts,” Evie said.
“It’s not too bad. I think I’ve had worse.”
“Worse than being shot? Are you serious?” She pulled on the rubber gloves that were in the bag and put the old bandages in the trash. “It doesn’t look too bad. They said you needed to keep it covered for a couple of days and then you’ll need to follow up with your doctor.”
Lyle rolled his eyes. “I’m more pissed that my sleeve is fucked up now. My tattoo artist will have fun fixing this.”
“You shouldn’t be worried about your tattoos right now.” There was no blood, just a gash in his ink covered biceps. She placed a gauze square over it and held it with one hand while she ripped off a strip of paper tape to secure it. “Do you need a pain pill?” Evie looked at the prescription bottle. “They gave you Vicodin.”
“I don’t need that. That shit is addictive.”
Evie sat the bottle on the kitchen counter. “We’re all done here then.” The rubber gloves made her hands sweat and she peeled them off. There was a knock on the door. “That must be Nina and Carl.”
Lyle followed her into the living room. Evie opened the door and Nina bounced in and hugged her. In the light of day Carl was better looking than she remembered. He wore a red t-shirt with Jimi Hendrix on the front. Like Lyle, he had tattoos down his arms. A silver ring hung from his bottom lip.
“How’s it going?” Carl asked, nodding at Evie. He turned to Lyle. “Dude. That crazy bitch really went off the deep end, huh?”
“That woman is a maniac.” Lyle pointed to his arm. “She fucked up my ink.”
“That blows.” Carl stepped closer and inspected the bandage.
Nina dropped Evie’s car keys on the coffee table. “Your car is all safe and sound.” Her hair was in pigtails and she had a permanent grin pasted on her face. “You’re okay, right?”
“Yes. I’m fine, really. Lyle took the bullet.”
“I know. This is so unreal.” Nina shook her head.
“Do you guys want something to drink?” Evie looked from Nina to Carl.
“No, thanks. We actually have to motor. I’m taking Carl to Knott’s Berry Farm. It’s too pretty outside to stay inside.”
“Knott’s Berry Farm?” Evie hadn’t been there in years.
“Yeah. Turns out we both love roller coasters. Awesome, right?” Nina tugged on one of her pigtails.
Evie laughed. “You’re still a nut but that sounds fun.”
“Hey, you guys should come with us,” Nina said.
“I’d rather stay in until the police catch that woman and Lyle needs to rest.” Evie yawned. “I’m still tired too.”
Nina gave her an exaggerated wink. “Okay. Sure. Well, you two enjoy your day in captivity then.”
Carl and Lyle had slipped outside to smoke.
Nina whispered, “Carl is amazing. We had a such a good time last night. After we found out you two were okay, of course.”
“It was a crazy night.”
“Did you do it with Lyle?”
“Nina, in case you forgot, Lyle was shot last night. We came back here and went to bed and slept. Just slept.”
“I think I believe you. You don’t look guilty.”
Lyle walked back in carrying a duffle bag. “He remembered to bring my stuff.”
Carl stepped into the foyer. “I figured you’d need it since the paramedics cut your shirt off and I doubt you can fit into any of Evie’s clothes.” He smiled.
Nina took Carl’s hand. “You ready to go, baby?”
“Yep.”
“So, we’ll see you guys later,” Nina said.
“Okay. Thanks for bringing my car back. I really appreciate it, Nina.”
“No problem. See you guys later.” Nina waved as Carl followed her out the door.
The sun filtered in through the front window and made light of the layer of dust on the coffee table.
Evie looked over at Lyle who was digging through his duffle bag.
“I need to clean my house,” she said.
“If I didn’t have someone come in and clean, my house would look like a hurricane blew through it.”
“I thought about hiring a cleaning lady but I don’t like strange people in my house.”
“But you like me in your house.” Lyle held a stack of clothes and a toothbrush. “May I shower again?”
“Of course. You know where the towels are.” Evie plopped down on the couch and turned on the television. She avoided the news channels because she didn’t want to see anymore reports about the shooting. She wanted to be as far away from it as she could be but the biggest reminder was in her shower right then.
Chapter Three
Evie lay on her stomach with her head at the foot of the bed and browsed a takeout menu for a local Thai restaurant.
“It can’t be that hard to pick something,” Lyle said while channel surfing with the remote. “There’s nothing good on television anymore. Where is The Twilight Zone? Tales From the Crypt?”
“I think I’ll have the Pad Thai.” She looked at him over her shoulder and handed him the menu. “Here, look and see what you want.”
“I’ll have the same. Make mine extra spicy.”
Evie called the restaurant and put in the order and then plopped down beside Lyle. “What about the lifetime channel?” She was half joking because that channel was famous for women’s cri
sis movies.
“Better option. How about some soft core porn? We can get a movie for four bucks on your pay per view.”
“I’m not watching porn with you, Lyle.”
“Party pooper.” He switched to another channel and turned up the volume. “We’re on the news.”
A perky brunette reporter in a bright blue suit smiled showing much too perfectly white teeth. “Lyle Crane was shot last night by a crazed fan outside the Long Beach Arena. The front man for Downside is said to be in good condition and has been released from the hospital. The intended target was purportedly the singer’s girlfriend, Evie Brant.”
Evie’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
The reporter continued. “Police are looking for this woman.” A picture of the crazy girl flashed on the screen. It was a grainy shot probably taken from a surveillance camera. “She was last seen fleeing the crime scene. If you have any information regarding the shooting or if you see this woman, please call police. She is considered armed and dangerous.”
“And there you have it,” Lyle said. “Next week we’ll be on the cover of a gossip rag.”
“How did they get my name?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Half of what they report is bullshit. Do you see why I have the reputation I do?”
“Yes. I can’t believe they just say these things without corroboration.”
“People want to hear the dirty details. That’s what will make them tune in for the next broadcast. I hope you don’t have any nudie pics floating around the internet because they’ll find them.”
“I can assure you there are no such pictures of me anywhere in existence.”
Lyle stopped on an episode of Law and Order. “This should be right up your alley. What do you do exactly?”
“I’m a research paralegal. In a nutshell, I research the law and apply it to the circumstances of a case. I usually handle the law and motion briefs for the attorney and then he goes into court and argues it before the judge.”
“Why don’t you go to court and argue?”
“Because I’m not a lawyer.”
“So the lawyer steals your thunder? Takes the credit for your work?”
“Not exactly but, kind of. Yes. I guess you’re right.”
