by Nola Marie
I don’t know if it’s fair for me to blame Josie, but I often wonder how certain events in my life would have turned out had she been there. Would I have handled my mother and her infidelity or my father’s remarriage differently? Would I have been there more for Lily? Or Jeff and Max, my two much younger half-brothers? Maybe I could’ve avoided the whole Erica fiasco.
I am considering all of this for the millionth time in my life since that fateful night when I nearly collide with Josie and fucking Erickson.
“Watch yourself, Martin,” douche bag grumbles. “What’s the matter? Couldn’t afford an actual road crew to do that?”
Josie looks at me with – is that concern on her goddamn beautiful face? Because she is fucking beautiful. Always has been. I just don’t know what to do with that look.
His snide tone makes my jaw pop. “It’s called making yourself useful and helping,” I retort with a little bite in my tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“That’s why I’m a star and you’re just a bass player,” he says giving me that damn smarmy grin I’d like to wipe the floor with.
My fists clench and I take a step forward.
Josie surprises me again by stepping in front of me with her hands on my chest. I look at her then her hands and back again. She quickly withdraws them with a flush.
And that look is definitely one that I recognize. One I saw frequently growing up when my temper threatened to get the best of me. When someone would decide to bully her. It’s a look of worry and pleading for me to calm down.
In a blink her expression clears, and she turns toward Erickson. She stays pressed against my chest though. Her back flush against my front like when we were kids.
I don’t know if she noticed when we were eighteen. I hope she doesn’t notice now but my body’s reaction to her hasn’t changed at all. All she has to do is be in the same room. Even if we’re fighting.
“Actually, they have a lot of crew,” Josie informs him with a hand on her hip and a lot of sass in her tone. “They just like to help when it’s needed and stay busy.”
“Oh, beautiful,” he says with a shake of his head like she’s a hopelessly naïve little girl, “that’s just because they don’t know anything else. Wait ‘til the money starts coming in.”
I feel every muscle in her body tense against me. This time I stop her as she moves forward with clenched fist. She is obviously very insulted either by his tone or expression. Probably both. “Don’t worry about weasels like him, Josie. He will blow through that money in no time.”
“Not likely, asshole,” he smirks at me. “I’ll still be selling number ones when you go back to flipping burgers.”
I never flipped burgers. Not that there is a damn thing wrong with that. Honest work is honest work. But I also don’t flash money.
But Josie? She takes this insult more personally than I expected her to. She lunges forward again, this time making me haul her by her waist, but her mouth keeps going. “You are a flash in the pan with a few catchy tunes. Angel and the band have actual talent. More talent that you could ever fathom. They feel the music,” she inhales deeply before she continues. “And you know why they’ll still be playing sold out shows while you’re a washed up has been? Because they’re not doing this for the money. They don’t need the money. They do this because they love the music.”
Her chest heaves with anger. Mine heaves too. I have never seen this side of her. The fearless side. The side that tolerates no bullshit and takes no prisoners. That was always my role. My part to play when I was protecting her. Everything she said was full of feeling and emotion. I know because I could feel it in every word.
“You just blew it, beautiful. You blew your chance to be with all of this,” he spreads his arms out wide like he’s offering himself. “I was looking forward to getting into that hot pussy too. Damn shame.”
Every nerve ending in my body begins to fire off. I feel the epinephrine flowing through my body as my amygdala stimulates my hypothalamus. I want to bash his face him. I want to beat him until he’s bloody and begging for mercy. I’m hanging on by a thread that is quickly unravelling.
“Good damn thing I never wanted you,” she hisses.
He lets out a derisive snort that makes my vision start to blur. “Don’t fool yourself. Everyone wants me or wants to be me.”
It’s my turn to move again. This time Josie isn’t stopping me. I move so she is behind me. Then I’m in his face. I keep my voice low so not to draw any more attention than we already have. “You stay the fuck away from her. Keep your eyes, your hands, and your shady fucking shit away from her or I will rearrange that face you seem so enamored with. She’s too damn good for you anyway.”
He makes a move to come to me but thinks better of it when he looks over my shoulder. “Problem here?” I hear Maddox ask behind me.
Erickson and I continue our stare down. Until I feel small hand on my arm. Pulling me out of the fire of my fury. Soothing the tattered edges of my soul I’d long forgotten that only she had the ability to do. With just a simple touch.
I turn and find those ocean eyes pleading with me to let it go. I look where her hand is resting on my arm and back to her face. Again. This time she doesn’t move her hand away.
“No problem,” I tell my friends without looking away from Josie.
“No problem at all,” Erickson says. I can hear that arrogant grin in his voice that makes me want to punch him in his damn face.
“Please,” she mouths to me.
I close my eyes and let my head fall forward. I give a near imperceptible nod, but I know she sees it because she lowers her hand. But not before she gives it a gentle squeeze.
Then I walk away before my anger gets the best of me.
Josephine
“What really happened here?” Dane asks me after that slimeball and Angel walk away.
I don’t really know what the right answer is. I think it started as Angel addressing stupid insults from a person that is far too entitled. But, somehow, it became more. It became him watching out for me much the same way he did when we were younger. Except more so because he was almost territorial. And I didn’t miss the – uh – bulge pressing against my back. Had that happened before?
I was just confused with it all. At the way Blaze treated Angel and his callous behavior altogether because my interactions with him up to that point had been pleasant. I was confused with how I was able to calm Angel as easily as I had when we were younger. I was pissed at the insinuations thrown my way. I was pissed at his blatant assumption that everyone was as motivated by money and recognition as he was.
No matter what my feelings are, I know Angel is not motivated by money, much like me. Maybe it’s because we’ve always had it, but I’d like to think not. I don’t expect people to wait on me, serve me, or kiss my ass. I’ve never been afraid of hard work. Never saw the purpose of frivolous spending, and I know Angel is the same.
Actually, I’ve already figured out all four men are the same way. They have money but they don’t flaunt it. They’re not afraid of hard work or getting their hands dirty. Ryder and Maddox work as bartenders even though neither of them needs the money from what Cami has told me.
“Josie,” Dane says, drawing me from my thoughts at the nickname that only Angel has ever called me.
“It’s Josephine,” I say then wince at my tone. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “No one calls me that.”
“Except Angel,” Maddox surmises.
I press my lips into a thin, tight line but nod.
“Want to fill us in on what happened here love,” Ryder asks. I appreciate him not lingering on the nickname.
“It was stupid,” I tell them as I feel a blush creeping up my face as it all replays in my mind. As I realize that the real catalyst was me.
“It usually is,” Dane tells me. “Especially where that son of a bitch is concerned.”
I nod in resignation then tell them what happened.
“Sounds
about right for that asshole,” Maddox tells me.
“I thought he was nice,” I admit with a twist of my gut because I didn’t see through his charade immediately. It makes me wonder about Ryder’s party. How wasted I was after two drinks and how he seemed adamant to take me home.
I don’t remember much else from that night, but I am grateful somehow Ryder managed to keep me there safely, letting me sleep off whatever it was.
“Don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart,” Maddox tells me as if he just read my mind. “He’s fooled quite a few people, and he’s a pro at manipulating and charming women. Just do me a favor will ya?” I give him a curious nod. “Don’t let yourself be alone with him if you can help it. Okay?”
I swallow hard at the warning, remembering the night at Ryder’s. “Why?” I ask.
“Let’s just say we’ve heard things about him, and none of them are good,” Dane tells me.
“Okay. I promise,” I say then turn to go back for the other wardrobe containers.
I don’t make it far before Maddox is calling out to me. I stop and turn to him. “Thank you for watching out for Angel,” he tells me sincerely.
I give him a nod and start to walk away but decide I need to say something too. “It wasn’t just me watching out for him, you know? He was watching out for me too.”
This makes him laugh. “Josie – sorry, Josephine – Angel has been watching out for you since the day you showed up on our video set.”
I’m not sure what to make of that. Or anything that’s happened in the last fifteen minutes. Angel hasn’t attempted to stand up for me in any way in a very long time.
I don’t have too much time to linger on it before Camilla calls out to me for help with the last container.
We spend the next two hours unpacking what we’ve brought for them, getting them on hangers, and steaming out the wrinkles. We spend the next hour deciding what they should wear plus a few backup shirts should they want them.
“I think we’re ready,” Cam says with a nod towards the racks where we’ve hung what we’ve chosen.
“It’s not difficult to choose suitable attire for rockers,” I laugh.
She chuckles in agreement. “It’s really not. Is it?”
“Record label either likes wasting money or doesn’t realize they already know how to look the part.”
“It has more to do with the constant need of dry clothing while they’re performing, but I don’t give a crap what their thinking is. They are paying well. Much better than other tours I’ve worked with.”
“I suppose,” I say with a shrug, still doubtful of Angel and my ability to be around each other.
“Don’t start that,” she warns with a scowl.
“I’m just being a realist,” I reply honestly.
“Chica, you need to admit you don’t hate him,” she tells me.
My jaw falls from her statement. I do hate him though. I can’t admit to something that’s not true. “Of course, I hate him, Cami. How can you suggest otherwise?”
“Because you never hated him, Josephine. You are confusing hurt and pain with hate. From what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen, the hurt and anger could be misplaced.” She folds her arms across her chest and focuses those dark eyes on mine.
I look away from her intense, challenging stare with a grumble. “Now you sound like Eden.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me about her, it’s a case of great minds.”
“I don’t know why you guys can’t see his part in this.”
Her hard stare doesn’t relent. “I can see it. And I also believe I’ve told you that it all happened when you were kids. I’ve told you to grow the hell up.”
“I thought I did,” I yell, throwing my hands in the air in frustration. “Then I saw him again and realized those wounds were deeper than I ever knew. I was poorly stitched together and seeing him ripped every last stitch out.”
“You. Were. Kids,” she matches my tone. “Now grow up and act like a professional.”
I am acting like a professional and an adult. I literally stood up for Angel and the band just a few hours ago. I don’t want or need her grief. She may be my boss, but she has no idea how difficult this is for me.
Even though standing up for Angel and watching him take up for me earlier was as natural as breathing, it was also hard. It was easy to slip back into old habits from our youth but, oh so painful.
I never in a million years thought I would see him again. It was a bet I would’ve easily taken considering how carefully I made certain to never attend gatherings between our parents if he would be there. It wasn’t the easiest when we were in school. Sometimes I’d fake a stomachache. Other times I’d keep a close eye out as I hid until I could slip away.
I’m not sure what our parents thought about our sudden distance when we were inseparable for so long. Sometimes I’m not sure my parents even noticed. If they did, they never said a word.
My phone rings in my pocket, ending our disagreement for now. “Hello,” I snap, not bothering to check the ID.
“Well, hello to you too my bright, bubbly best friend,” Eden says sarcastically. “I was just calling to see how your first day of touring with rock stars was going, but I’m guessing from your tone, not well.”
“It’s fine. I was just arguing with Camilla,” I admit.
“About?” she pushes with one word that only Eden can get away with.
With a sigh, I break it down for her. I’m met with the silence I fully expected. “Just say it,” I tell her gruffly.
“Why?” she asks apathetically. “It doesn’t do any good to say it. You don’t listen anyway.”
“So, you’re not going to say anything?” I ask incredulously. Because even before I told her what happened, I knew she would agree with Camilla and have a lot more to say on the matter.
“Nope,” she pops emphatically. “Because it’s nothing you haven’t heard before. It’s nothing you wouldn’t see yourself if you’d stop being hurt over one damn night.”
Ahh. There she is.
“I thought you weren’t going to say anything,” I grind out.
“I’m not going to say anything,” she reiterates more flippantly. “Because once you make up your mind about something, you become narrow-minded and unwilling to hear what anyone else has to say about anything. Hell, I don’t even know why Angel ever tried at all because he should know that little fact better than anyone. He should’ve known you weren’t going to hear him out. Poor Robert is proof of that.”
My jaw goes slack as hot tears sting my eyes. “Really?” I demand. “You’re making this about Robert too. You never liked him. Is that why you called?” I ask brushing the tears away furiously. “To attack me and call me a selfish, heartless bitch?”
“No,” she says completely unphased by my anger. “I really did want to know how things were going but you answered before I had a chance.”
“Well, you’re always on my case about him,” I say angrily.
“I’m not. I haven’t uttered a word about Angel Martin in years. Not until you started. You don’t know why he sent you that message that night, but you’ve also never given him a chance to explain.”
“You know it’s more than that,” I demand but just like she says I’m stubborn, I know she is equally as stubborn.
“What I know, Josephine, is that Camilla is right. You need to let go of it all because you were only kids, or at the very least, admit the real reason it still hurts you so much. You need to give Angel a damn chance to explain. God knows you owe him that much.”
“I owe him?” I screech incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. That boy tried to chase you down for months. Hell, he didn’t give up for years. Sounds to me like he still hasn’t given up trying to explain.”
“I’ve got to go,” I tell her with a shake to my voice.
“Of course, you do Josephine. It’s the other thing you do so well.”
“What the hell is that suppo
sed to mean?”
“Just what I said. If everything doesn’t fit into your perfect little picture, you either pretend it’s not happening or run away.”
“You think I run away from my problems?” I don’t run away. I didn’t run away from L.A. I had hard decisions and tough choices to make. Leaving the only home I’ve ever known was not easy. Starting my life over without a dime or penny or clue was not easy.
A long sigh comes through the line. “It doesn’t matter Josephine. It got you to finally admit you’ve been living a miserable life for your parents. You said you have to go, and so do I.”
She ends the call without giving me a chance to respond. I’m so damn pissed at her. She is supposed to be on my side no matter what. It seems, though, the last few weeks all we’ve done is argue.
She knows what happened back then. She knows what they did to me. How Jason played with my emotions. I think back on another day I was so naïve that I went along with everything he said.
“Josie, you’re so sweet,” Jason tells me between kisses.
I give him a smile. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. It’s been nice, but a little lonely at the same time.
“I’m not that sweet,” I counter with a downward glance.
“Oh, but you are,” he smiles as he dives in for another kiss.
Kissing Jason has been – educational. The kisses are often awkward and wet and sloppy, but not in the way a romance novel describes.
I just assume it’s my inexperience that makes them so inadequate. If I knew what I were doing then maybe it would be better.
He leans me back on the bed with his mouth still attached to mine. I struggle to keep up with him. To not yawn, if I’m being honest.
When his hand starts to journey toward my jeans, I go stiff. Pushing him off, I climb off his bed with a red flush.
