One Night With a Rock Star

by Chana Keefer

  “Ah, but I’m ready for you this time. Too close for that lethal elbow.”

  We collapsed against the wall with Sky’s arms still wrapped around my waist.

  “So what should I do?” Blood pounded in my ears as he buried his face in my hair and pulled me close.

  “Well…” His breath was warm against my neck. “You’ve already broken a most important rule. Never allow yourself to be caught alone with a man who’s falling in love with you.”

  I froze. Had he really said it?

  “The ‘L’ word,” I tried to joke as my knees started to buckle, “the most dangerous attack of all. What’s the best defense, go for the eyes?” It was all I could do to keep from melting against him with a sigh.

  “First, you have to be honest. Do you want to fight it?”

  We stood in silence, his hands enfolding mine. The beat of his heart drumming through my back dictated the pace of my own as our breathing slowed and aligned. “Trust me,” he whispered.

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Trust your heart then. It’s smarter than you think.”

  He turned me until my cheek pressed to his chest. It was so familiar. Ah, yes. He had held me this way in the dream. Every muscle began to relax as the grief and strain of months melted away.

  “Esther, I want to see you… often. I want to build trust between us.”

  “You’re saying what you think I want to hear.” I yanked my head to look at him but there was a painful tug where my hair was hooked to one of his buttons.

  “Hold still.” He laughed as he carefully removed the elastic securing my ponytail.

  I rubbed my sore head. “If that was trust between us, it hurts.” When I ran a hand through my hair, the shirt button fell into my palm. “Sorry about that.” I reached to pop the button into his shirt pocket and my fingers brushed his chest where the button was no longer doing its job. His skin was surprisingly warm. I noticed the rise and fall of his breathing and the pulse at his throat. I flattened my hand, watching the fingers stretch up to his shoulder, and felt the thump of his heart against my palm. The words he had said about “trust” played over and over in my mind as I slipped my hand up onto the smooth skin at the base of his throat where my thumb fit perfectly into the little hollow there.

  “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  Sky’s eyes were watching me so intensely I pulled my hand away. “Am I hurting you?”

  He chuckled. “Hurting me? It’s torture. As you touch me in a way that shows you’ve never touched another man… that way, it’s all I can do to keep from… educating you.”

  I’d heard the term “wave of desire.” This was tidal.

  His kiss was soft, slow and gentle while his body language contained an entire thesis of information. I had the impression my ear was against a giant dam while a flood pressed on the other side. Arms were wrapped around the way I might cup a moth to prevent harming its wings. The touch on my mouth was a caress, not a demand. I felt myself stretch carefully toward him.

  When we finally pulled away, it was as if a thousand words had been spoken about forgiveness and trust—with a great deal of exchange on the subject of anticipation.

  There was a knock. Sky ignored it, pulling me tighter against him. The knock came again.

  “Whoever you are, I detest you,” Sky growled toward the hateful door. He kissed me on the forehead, “Please don’t move.” The happiness in his eyes warmed me from head to toe.

  He proceeded across the room and opened the door a few inches.

  “Hello Dahling.” The voice was accented, smoke-husky and oh-so-sexy. “They told me you were already gone. You wouldn’t be trying to avoid me?”

  “Actually, this is a bad time… ”

  “It usually is, but we really must talk. Oh don’t look so fierce Dahling this will only take a moment.” The door pushed back to reveal Karina’s magazine-worthy image.

  We froze in a classic awkward moment. With one arched brow, Karina took in our disheveled appearance, pausing for each incriminating discovery; the front of Sky’s shirt, melting ice scattered across the floor, the tangle of material beside the couch; reserving a particularly long gaze for my hair. She let out a melodic laugh.

  “Sky, Dearest, where are your manners? You must introduce your little friend.” She went on without pause. “But take my advice. At least wait until she’s legal.” She laughed again as her eyes continued their scrutiny. I felt like a chunk of meat in a lion’s cage.

  “I’m so glad to see you haven’t forgotten how to have a good time. I heard you had become a bit of a monk. I was worried about you.” Her slight accent was so feminine. “Oh my, the threesomes and paternity suits we once enjoyed. So exciting.” Her eyes flashed my way. If she searched for a reaction, I’m sure my revulsion was rewarding.

  “Karina, we can talk later… ”

  She ignored him. “You seem like a sweet girl so let me give you some advice. Get away from Sky.” She smiled pityingly. “Little girls throw themselves at him every day.” She looked me over with a sneer. “You’re nothing.”

  Sky snorted with disdain and muttered, “Little girl.” He spoke again, voice calm but eyes, deadly. “This woman is worth a thousand of you, inside and out.”

  Her face paled as if the words had been a physical blow. She sputtered something that I supposed was a curse in her native language. When she added a phrase with the word “whore,” the translation was evident. Sky pushed her out into the hallway and slammed the door behind them.

  The air filled with her screeched obscenities and shouts of, “Get your hands off!”

  I heard Sky telling Karina to calm down but she continued screaming as if under attack. I opened the door a crack and peeked through. Sky stood, arms crossed on his chest, as Lex stepped closer, talking quietly into his walkie-talkie.

  Footsteps and voices converged from all directions—stage crew, reporters, and even Karina’s gorgeous pals who must have been hovering close by. Spiky-guy, camera ready, pushed his way to the front.

  My heart sank when John, Marti, and Tom showed up with the band members. As Karina directed another Norwegian insult my way, John pushed through until he was toe-to-toe with her, “Hey! Whatever you said… take it back!”

  I pushed open the door and grabbed the back of his shirt.

  “John, that’s exactly what she wants.”

  At the same instant, Jake stumbled and reached for Karina’s shoulder, knocking the strap of her handbag off her shoulder. The purse fell to the floor, scattering its contents. Karina’s face registered panic and she dove down with surprising agility.

  But Jake was a split-second ahead of her. “My apologies, fair lady.”

  They grabbed for a golden cigarette case and a short tug-of-war ensued. Jake’s thumb flicked the side of the case and it popped open spilling cigarettes and a small packet of white powder.

  A hush fell. A voice mumbled into a radio.

  Jake was the only one unperturbed. “Strange place for coffee creamer,” he drawled.

  “How did that get there?” Karina looked around with a shocked expression. “You can’t think that’s mine!”

  But Jake wasn’t finished. He opened another compartment of the gold case and pulled out a small, square something he handed to the officer. “Hate for her fun in jail to be cut short.”

  The officer opened his palm to reveal a wrapped condom.

  The phrase “all hell broke loose” is an understatement for what happened next. As laughter trickled through the crowd, Karina dove for Jake.

  I put out a hand to halt the dive for Jake’s jugular.

  Karina was screaming as her ring-crusted hand barreled closer, “You Bas… ” Pop!

  My face is on fire. A strange roaring fills my ears. I watch the silent movie of Karina lunging again for Jake as Lex and a security guard struggle to control her. The hallway tilts.

  Sky is beside me, fury in his face, his mouth moving with words I can’t hea
r. Cameras flash. The flashes hurt my eyes. I put up a hand to shield them. It comes away sticky and red. Spiky-guy is there. His camera flashes and Sky shoves him.

  Sound returns. Everyone is shouting. Sky has Spiky-guy against a door. Spiky-guy’s eyes are wide as Sky’s fist goes… through the door.

  Several people scream. I think I’m one of them. Sky’s hand is bleeding. I try to get to him but someone is holding me back. The hallway is tilting again. They’re holding me up, pulling me away.

  I lock eyes with Karina. She looks scared and alone as an officer yanks on her arm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I woke the next morning on a soggy pillow and winced when the sun hit my eyes, then winced again from wincing. The phone was ringing. I touched the stitches by my right eye. The doc in the emergency room had teased about brass knuckles. Nope, just a hand with serious bling.

  It all came back in a rush—shouting, people pushing, cameras flashing, Lex’s beefy arm clearing the way, Sky’s bloody hand, someone dabbing at my face, a tense limousine ride, Sky’s hand in an ice bucket, another crowd at the hospital, white floors, curious stares, too many questions, too many people, the doctor’s curved needle, a quiet room, another policeman, a silent ride with John back to the apartment.

  Then the pillow and tears.

  There had been no chance to talk to Sky again and my last view of him had been when they took him away for x-rays. He had met my eye, but only for a second.

  I could hear Marti say, “I’m sorry, you have a wrong number,” then she slammed the phone down. She peeked in. “Darn. Sorry that woke you. I’ll unplug it.”

  “Has he called?”

  She shook her head, “No, but everyone else in the world has.” The phone rang and she rolled her eyes, “Man! Don’t these people sleep?” I had to grin when she answered with a, “What?”

  Then she paused and added, “Oh, sorry.” I got up and toted my throbbing face toward her where she handed over the receiver.

  “Esther? It’s Chloe.” I swallowed disappointment as she said, “I just have a minute but I’m to check on you. How’s the face?”

  “Okay.”

  “Listen, we’ll be in touch. Scrambling with scheduling and such.”

  “How is he?”

  She paused, “He did quite a number on his hand, only one knuckle broken, but the bruising and cuts are… pretty bad. We’ve canceled the next few shows.” She moved smoothly to the next item. “I also have to know if you’re planning to press charges against Karina.”

  Awkward silence. “Uh… no. She’s got enough trouble already.”

  “Well, that’s… generous.” She didn’t sound particularly pleased but hopped right back on track. “Anyway, it was good to see you, Esther. I’ve gotta run.” Click.

  I hung up and gave Marti the info. She hugged me then stumbled off to sleep as I unplugged the phone.

  The rest of the day, Marti and I were hostages, unable to leave the apartment without reporters accosting us. I finally confessed I would go crazy if I couldn’t escape and Marti devised a plan. Early the next morning, while it was still dark, she pulled a cap low on her head, snuck out the door and took my car. It seemed to work as two cars parked across the street pulled from the curb to follow. When the coast was clear, I crawled out my bedroom window, Marti’s keys in my hand. I didn’t even think about where I was heading, it was instinct. Very soon, I pulled into the weeds on the dirt road next to my barn.

  I had thrown on sweatshirt, jeans, and my oldest boots since it was a gray, drizzly day. Sammy dashed across the field as if he had been on the lookout for me. Probably had been. Who can understand a dog’s instincts?

  I felt beat up, bruised, and numb. I plopped down in the slushy grass and laid my head against Sammy’s damp fur. He adjusted immediately to my mood, growing still, his trusting eyes asking no questions.

  For a long moment, we sat together, Sammy leaning against me. I lifted my eyes to the sky, to clouds piled like mountain ranges in the golden dawn, to the cool, ozone-laced mist I imagined were the fingers of God stroking my battered face. Low thunder rolled in the distance as, directly overhead, a massive thunderhead boiled upward with a practice twist.

  “Go ahead,” I sighed. “Please, take me to Oz.”

  An old white car exit the highway and I thought wistfully how it should be a sleek black one coming to whisk me away.

  The ground beneath my feet rumbled. I turned to see Sugar, full-grown and gorgeous, flying toward me, mane lashing his neck, nostrils flaring. Close behind him followed our newest equine addition, April Star; one year old and proud to keep up with the big boys.

  They came to an abrupt, mud-flinging halt just shy of the barbed wire separating us. I spent a few moments patting sleek sides and stroking noses as they jockeyed for position.

  Feeling reckless, I climbed up on the fencepost, took a firm grip of Sugar’s mane, and eased onto his back. His skin quivered as he reacted to the unaccustomed feel of a rider minus the saddle but, to his credit, he remained calm.

  Sammy and April Star crowded us on both sides, one stretching up to place muddy paws on my knee while the other pestered and pushed with his muzzle. I gave Sugar a prod with my heels.

  He took off in an easy lope. The up and down jostling was murder on my bruised face. Oh well, we’d just have to go faster. My heels came in again. With a burst of power, Sugar took flight. For a few glorious seconds, I shut my eyes, relishing the feeling of flying through clouds as misty drops whispered across my skin and through the hair whipping back from my face. I looked up through the light rain flying into my eyes and realized we were approaching the creek—fast—and Sugar wasn’t slowing down. With a gulp and desperate, “Oh God!” he leaped and, freed from the bonds of gravity, I gripped with my knees and tightened the hold on his mane thinking, “If ya gotta die, what a way to go.”

  We landed with a thud and Sugar came to a teeth-rattling halt. I was alive. Glancing down at my hands, I willed the white knuckles to relax as he stamped and blew, obviously ready for another pass.

  I patted his neck. “Sorry Bud, that’s all the excitement I can take.” He gave a bored snort and buried his nose in a cluster of rich green at his feet. I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and laid my cheek against his mane. The homey, horsey scent recalled memories of trail rides, hay forts, and spindly-legged newborn foals. Tension and care seeped away and my heart slowed. No, it didn’t rival Sky-therapy, but it was far less dangerous. I remained, watching the rolling, rumbling heavens as the gentle drizzle fell, slowly drenching me in peace.

  I slid off Sugar’s wet back as Sammy raced toward us with muddy paws, swerving at the last second, barely avoiding my outstretched hand as he streaked away in a wide circle for another pass, his version of tag. He was a joyful blur of fur and wagging tail as he dodged and froze, rump in the air, legs splayed in front. I rushed toward him and he was off again like a shot.

  I squatted in the grass and took a deep breath. The smell of damp earth, rain on wildflowers and the storm-laden wind created my favorite perfume. The clouds above continued to boil upward as I gazed, losing all track of time, entranced as always when the heavens create a spectacle that eclipses my puny life.

  Sammy ran toward me again and gave an insistent bark as a flash of lightening and crack of thunder made me realize we were a bit of a lightning rod in the open field. Sugar and April Star bolted toward their stalls as heavy drops plopped, signaling an imminent cloudburst. I followed Sammy toward the abandoned barn as the heavens released a deluge.

  Under the shelter of the eaves I found Sammy waiting for me, dripping but happy. He shook from head to toe, showering me anew.

  “That works for you, huh?” I copied his technique, shaking my head back and forth. My head stopped but the world didn’t. I grabbed a nearby post for support. Ow. The war wounds did not like that move.

  We headed toward the second level. Halfway up the stairs, Sammy gave a short, “Yip!” and bounded ahe
ad.

  Emerging from the stairs, the memories of my time with Sky overwhelmed me. It seemed I could feel him there like a ghost from the past as I looked at the scene of our hay fight and the place where we had plucked hay from each other’s hair. I walked to that spot and slid down to sit.

  Everywhere I looked, images of my time with him were projected against the gray sheets of driving rain. I shut my eyes tight. That movie had a bad ending. Sammy padded over and joined me. I wrapped an arm around his damp neck, thankful for his presence. The wind swirled, driving the rain in upon us and forcing a move to drier ground. A spot of color atop the pile of hay caught my eye.

  One perfect, wet, long-stemmed yellow rose lay next to an envelope. As I picked them up, the sound of a car motor broke through the noise of raindrops on the roof. I ran to the other side of the barn in time to see the white car I noticed earlier pull away. Sky?

  I stood with the rose clutched in my hand, oblivious to the driving rain, as the car was absorbed into the storm.

  With shaking fingers I opened the envelope and pulled out one lonely sheet with a small paragraph written at its center.

  Esther,

  I’m so sorry. I should never have pulled you into this poison. You deserve happiness.

  Please be safe.

  Sky

  That was it. No “Dear,” no “Love,” just “be safe.”

  Later that day, several tornadoes were spawned in our area. They were nothing compared to the turmoil inside of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The next few weeks were an exhausting sprint toward graduation. Finals and projects demanded several sleepless nights. Thankfully, it helped me ignore the continuing saga of Sky and Karina. Apparently, the tour had marched on after just a couple cancellations with Sky’s hand in a cast and Karina out on bail. If blinders had been provided at the grocery check out, that information could have been avoided as well.