“You do that.” Jerith leaned down to kiss her lips. They once again melted together, making love till the wee hours of the morning then sleeping late into the day. When they woke they ordered food from a nearby café, and Jerith bribed the owner into having it delivered. The man was only too happy to deliver when Jerith explained that he and his new bride were absolutely famished. He even brought the food himself, smiling widely when Jerith tipped him handsomely.
They ate their meal on the balcony and watched the sun set. Eventually, they went back to bed and made love again, then talked late into the night.
Two days later, they had to part ways. Jerith was headed to Nevada for a concert, and Nicolette went back to Sacramento to start getting things in order for her and Ryan’s move to LA.
It was a month before they saw each other again, and only then because Nicolette surprised Jerith by showing up for Billy and the Kid’s concert in Seattle, Washington. He was stunned when she walked into the arena, where they were conducting a sound check. She came in during the middle of an angry exchange of insults between himself and Billy. Billy had become more and more difficult. She had shown up to the sound check an hour late, and she was so stoned she could barely stand. Jerith had lost it. Things had been absolutely hideous since he’d arrived back from getting married. Billy had been a royal bitch, obviously jealous over Jerith’s apparent happiness. Things between Alan and Billy had finally gone beyond hate, and she had fired him, but Alan had a contract and hadn’t left. That made her even more intolerable. When Nicolette walked in, Billy was standing toe to toe with Jerith, her face a mask of anger.
“And what are you gonna fucking do, Golden Boy? You gonna fire me? Go ahead and try!”
“Billy,” Jerith said, his tone deathly calm but his blue eyes blazing at her. “Get the fuck out of my way before I do something I swore I’d never do to a woman.”
“And what’s that, Kid? You gonna hit me? Go ahead and try, and see if I don’t take your head off for you.”
Jerith reached out then and shoved her back. Billy stumbled, but with surprising agility stabilized herself and lashed out with her fist, catching Jerith on the left cheek. Jerith stood his ground, his fists clenching at his side.
“Jerith!” Nicolette yelled, moving to his side. Jerith’s head snapped around, his eyes widening when he saw her. Nicolette moved to embrace him, even as Billy started to shake her head.
“Great, now we won’t get shit done,” she muttered. Jerith shocked her by turning on her and snatching her off her feet by a handful of her jacket.
“Billy,” he said as he brought her face to face. “Why don’t you go somewhere and OD?” With that he set her back on her feet and shoved her away. This time Billy did stumble, and she fell flat on her backside. But Jerith didn’t stick around to see what she’d do; he walked off the stage with his arm around his wife.
Back at the hotel, Nicolette asked him about the goings-on. Jerith unloaded all of the stress he’d been feeling, telling her everything. Nicolette listened, and as usual backed him up all the way.
“I really think you need to do something about her,” she said as she touched the light bruise Billy’s fist had caused on his cheek. “She’s getting violent now, and that’s never a good sign.”
“I know,” Jerith said, lying back against the couch and blowing his breath out in a rush. “But we gotta get through this tour, and then I can do something about her.”
“It won’t be a moment too soon, believe me,” Nicolette said, laying her head on his chest. They spent the afternoon pointedly talking about other things.
Meanwhile, Billy got a hold of her connection, and he got her in touch with someone in Seattle that could get her what she needed. She was still fuming about the fight with Jerith, and she wanted to numb her anger. Two hours after the confrontation she sat in her hotel room, just three doors down from Jerith’s, and snorted line after line of cocaine. Eventually, she more or less passed out. She woke three hours later and looked at the clock. It was 6:30 p.m., and the concert was set to start in an hour.
“Shit,” Billy muttered. “Gotta get up, Montague. Gotta go…” Finally she dragged herself off the bed and over to the coffee table. There she did two more lines and went to take a quick ice-cold shower to wake herself up. She couldn’t shake the fog her brain seemed to be full of, but she shrugged it off as she called down for a car.
Nicolette watched as Jerith paced. His mouth was set in a grim, angry line, and his eyes were blue points of fire. His boot heels echoed resoundingly off the walls of the arena loading area. Billy hadn’t shown up yet, and they were set to go on in twenty minutes. Tommy, the drummer, walked up. “No sign yet,” he reported, looking worried. “I called the hotel—they said she called for a car, but they didn’t know her destination. Kid, what’re we gonna do if she don’t show?”
Jerith turned to the younger man, his eyes narrowed, his visage pure stone. “If she doesn’t show, I’m going to kill her.” His tone indicated that Tommy had the only answer he was going to get at that point.
A half hour later the crowd was getting restless, and starting to shout and chant. Billy finally arrived ten minutes after that. By that time, Jerith was beyond mad, and he had to walk away from her to keep from killing her. He walked straight onto the stage, foregoing their usual entrance to try and placate the near-rioting fans. In response, the crowd burst into applause.
“Sorry ’bout the delay,” Jerith said, wearing his most winning smile. “But everything’s all systems go.” With that he started the introduction to one of Billy and the Kid’s more popular songs. A minute later the rest of the band joined him. Billy waited an extra minute, then stepped on stage, and again the crowd erupted in applause.
Nicolette watched from the sidelines. She could see that Billy was very high and trying desperately to keep it together. She could also see Jerith’s tension growing as Billy messed up the words to a song, or forgot them altogether.
The fourth song into the concert, one of their more raucous ones, Billy seemed to be getting it back on track. She was belting out the words, and Nicolette noticed that she was going downstage a lot; she’d reach out frequently and touch the hands of the crowd. The fans ate it up, but Nicolette noticed that Billy was teetering dangerously. She was watching her as she moved to reach out to the crowd again, when Billy seemed to literally throw herself into the mass of waving arms. There was a screech of feedback as Jerith threw off his guitar and launched himself after her.
“Jerith!” Nicolette screamed as she ran toward the stage.
Suddenly there was chaos everywhere. The music ceased immediately as the rest of the band rushed to try and help. Nicolette couldn’t see Jerith anywhere. People were screaming and running. Nicolette watched frantically for Jerith’s blond mane to appear from the crowd.
Jerith jumped feet first from the stage and landed close to where the fans were literally tearing at Billy. He plunged into the mass of bodies, yelling her name and shoving people aside. Suddenly, people realized that Kid Michaels was among them too, and they moved to grab at him as well, as if trying to get a piece of him. Jerith fought off clawing hands, feeling nails catch his skin as his shirt was ripped. He could see Billy three feet away; she was being grabbed and pulled at just as he was, but in her inebriated state she wasn’t fighting back. Jerith knew he had to get to her.
Putting his head down, he rushed the crowd, knocking people aside and getting knocked back as well. At one point he was shoved to the ground, his head hitting the concrete. He lay stunned for a matter of seconds, but then moved to stand, knowing he’d be trampled if he didn’t get up. By this time the crowd was a mass of screaming, panicking kids trying to get to the exit. Jerith knew he had to get up.
Glancing to the side, he saw Billy just inches away from him. Her eyes were closed, her body slack. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him, and with strength born of sheer panic, drove himself to his feet and pulled her up with him. He backed up and
found himself against the stage. Turning, he literally tossed Billy’s slack body onto it. He fought a wave a dizziness as he tried to pull himself up after her, but found that he didn’t have the strength. He could feel the crowd pressing in on him, and he could barely breathe. Just when he was sure he would pass out, he felt a small hand clasp his and begin to pull him up on stage. The last thing Jerith saw before he blacked out was Nicolette’s face as she used every ounce of strength she had to drag him to safety.
Jerith regained consciousness a few minutes later, and tried to stand. He was assisted by a few very strong hands, and with Nicolette supporting him on the right and Tommy on the left, he moved off stage. The police had moved in by this time and were taking control of the situation. Tommy and Nicolette helped Jerith to the green room and laid him on the couch. Nicolette knelt at his side, looking very worried.
“Where the hell are the paramedics?” she yelled over her shoulder, her voice edging on hysterical. She had just about seen her husband trampled to death, and it had scared the hell out of her.
“Where’s Billy?” Jerith asked quietly. His head was pounding.
“She’s okay, Kid,” Tommy said. “You really saved her ass. What the hell were you thinking, diving into the crowd like that?”
Jerith just shook his head. His eyes were closed, his arm thrown over his face.
“Jerith, what hurts?” Nicolette asked, her voice soft and very concerned.
He moved his arm to look at her, trying valiantly to smile. “Ask me what doesn’t hurt—it’d be a shorter list.” It was obvious by his tone and the look on his face that he was in very real pain.
“Okay, babe, okay. Just lay there and rest. The paramedics should be here any minute,” Nicolette said, touching his cheek, her eyes searching his face, her anxiety evident.
“I’m okay, Nick,” Jerith said, his voice still very quiet.
The door to the room opened then, and two men brought Billy in. She was on her feet, but very obviously dazed. She had a cut on her forehead, and a bruise was already starting on her cheek.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Nicolette raged at the other woman. Billy just looked back at her blankly. “If you want to kill yourself, fine, do it—but don’t take Jerith with you.”
Billy blinked a couple of times, and then she slid to the ground as she saw Jerith. He had bloody welts on his chest, neck, and face, and a bruise on the side of his head as well as the one on his jaw. It was obvious that Jerith had taken the brunt of the punishment for her stupidity. Like a drunk driver that walks away from an accident without a scratch but leaves a family of four dead, Billy was basically no worse for the wear. Suddenly it was too much, and she began to cry hysterically. The paramedics arrived moments later, and ended up giving her a sedative to calm her down. She promptly passed out.
Jerith was taken to the hospital and checked over carefully. For his trouble, he had come away with a concussion, two badly bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and a number of nasty scratches, most of which the doctors assured him should heal without scarring. Billy had been taken to the hospital for observation and was two rooms down from Jerith. After the doctor left, Jerith told Nicolette he had something to do. She nodded, but followed him solicitously to make sure he was okay. Jerith went to Billy’s room.
Billy lay in the bed, her jet black curls fanned out on the white pillow. Her eyes were closed, but when Jerith walked in, she opened them. She took in the bruises and scratches on his face, as well as the serious look in his blue eyes, and she knew what was coming. She began to nod as he walked over to the bed, tears welling up in her eyes. Jerith surprised her by sitting down on the bed and leaning down to take her into his arms. She cried on his shoulder for a full five minutes, then moved back, looking up at him.
“You don’t have to say it, Kid. I know,” she said, sounding very sincere. “I screwed up big time tonight… and I know that you’re here to kick me out.”
Jerith said nothing. The look in his eyes told her she was right.
“I just…” Billy said, her voice tearful. “I couldn’t pull it together. I couldn’t make things come out right. I’m sorry…” She reached up, touching his cheek. “I’m sorry for this—I’m sorry about a lot of things. You saved my life tonight, and I love you for it, and because I do, I’m going to make this easy on you.” She paused, with new tears welling up in her eyes, but then continued. “I’m quitting the band. You don’t have to fire me.”
“You need help, Billy,” Jerith said, tears in his own eyes now. “I’ve done everything I know how, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep living my life on a string tied to your habit. It’s turned into a noose, and it’s strangling me.” His voice was very somber, and Nicolette felt tears stinging her eyes from the pain she knew he was feeling at that moment. She walked over to him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He reached up and touched her hand, taking it in his own as Billy watched.
Billy looked at Nicolette. “I’m sorry to you too,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t believe that anyone would capture Kid’s heart, and when you did, I couldn’t get past it. You were right though. I was trying to kill myself tonight, and I almost took Kid with me… and I’m sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean much now, but I really am.”
Nicolette nodded, still feeling resentment at the self-destructive escapade that had almost cost her husband’s life.
Jerith and Nicolette left Billy’s room a short time later. Billy watched them go, then promptly reached over and ripped the IV of saline solution out of her arm. She curled into the fetal position, crying as her blood dripped on the white sheets.
♪ Six ♪
A month later, Nicolette walked into Jerith’s house in Malibu. She and Ryan had moved in the week before. Jerith had been very quiet over the last month. The rest of the tour had been canceled, and numerous fans were suing Billy and the Kid because they had been injured at the concert. The band had ceased to exist.
Now, coming into the house, Nicolette could hear the stereo on down the hall. She walked back toward Jerith’s music room and stood in the doorway, watching him. He was lying on the couch, his head resting against the arm, a drink in his hand and his eyes closed. The song that had been playing ended and a new one began. Jerith sang the words and Nicolette could feel his almost-tangible pain. She knew the future of his career was uncertain, and that he was dying inside with the need to play again. She watched as he sang, fingering the chords on an imaginary guitar. Again she wondered how much of what he was singing was what he was really feeling. The song was Queensrÿche’s “Is There Anybody Listening,” and the lyrics talked about seeing what was really behind it all and understanding that the public was being lied to. In the end it talked about sailing away, never to be seen again.
As the song faded out, Nicolette walked into the room and knelt next to Jerith, reaching out to stroke his hair. He opened his eyes, and it was obvious he’d been drinking. But the torment in his blue eyes cut her to the core, and Nicolette found herself cursing Billy Montague’s name for the millionth time. No one had heard from Billy in the last month. It was like she’d disappeared. Jerith had been half afraid she’d kill herself, but nothing had happened; he just didn’t know anything at all.
“Hi there,” she said softly.
Jerith gave her a small smile and moved to sit up, but gave up the effort when he realized he was too drunk to do so.
“Have you eaten today?” she asked, already knowing the answer when he looked like he was thinking about it. “Never mind. I’m going to make dinner. You lay here, and do us both a favor,” she said, grinning as she stood up and looking at him pointedly. “Don’t try to stand up. You might hurt yourself.”
Jerith’s lips twisted in a grin as he nodded.
An hour later, she brought dinner in to him and found that he had taken her advice and not moved. He had, however, finished his drink, and the glass was sitting on the floor next to the couch. Nicolette bent down to pick it u
p, then started to pull Jerith up. He groaned. “Are you hurting?” she asked, concerned. His back had been giving him trouble since the incident at the concert.
“Are you kidding?” Jerith said, giving her a wry look. He reached over and picked up an empty bottle of Southern Comfort—a bottle that had been full that morning. “I’m not feeling a damn thing,” he said seriously.
“Jesus, Jerith,” Nicolette breathed, looking at the bottle, her eyes clouding further with worry. She hadn’t seen this side of him before. It scared her a little, but she had to be there for him; he needed her now more than ever. “And you haven’t had a damn thing to eat either, have you?”
Again he looked as if he were considering the question. His thought processes were obviously a bit slowed. “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head and handing him the plate of food. “Eat this, now, okay?”
Jerith nodded numbly and dutifully picked up the fork. Nicolette watched him, but he didn’t eat much, and that bothered her. It wasn’t healthy for him to drink that much and not have anything in his body to soak up the alcohol. She knew that he’d been drinking over the last month, but she didn’t think he’d ever drunk as much as that day. Nicolette made a mental note to keep tabs on his consumption; she didn’t want it to become a habit.
Later that night, she felt him climb into bed behind her. She glanced at the clock; it was 1:00 in the morning. He reached out, pulling her back to him and curling his body around hers, nuzzling her neck. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it made her cringe. There had been many nights when John had come home smelling of alcohol and had snuggled up to her, expecting her to give him whatever he wanted. And she had, but the few times she had resisted he’d gotten angry, and that had led to violence. The combination of senses seemed to wash over her suddenly, and she couldn’t control her body’s response, recoiling from him. Jerith was aware of it instantly.
Missez (Wild Irish Silence Book 4) Page 18
