by Fox, Lizzie
Jessie’s pretty face sank as he walked away, and I knew she was about to lose it. So, now that she had composed herself and was back with a smile again, now I could relax and finish up the set and enjoy it.
This was First Avenue, and Jessie was right—it was a huge deal. I had tried to be blasé about it because if I thought too much, I probably would have panicked. It was an iconic place, and everyone who was anyone or would become anyone came through here.
I wasn’t thrilled when the emcee announced my projects with Miles Madison, but it was what it was. Cat was out of the bag now, and I hadn’t received any dirty looks from the guys, but I knew I’d get grilled about it later.
We were on our last song, and it was probably my current favorite, “The Darkest Day.” I wrote it for Jessie, the day she saved my life…the day she saved me. The day that was everything and changed everything I was. And that’s what the song was about, and I was quite fucking proud of it. It was my triumph song.
Being up here was surreal—so surreal. The lights ahead, hundreds of people in the audience and the railed balconies. I knew many of them were here for Jazz Davis, but everyone seemed to enjoy our stuff, and that made me feel really damned good.
Seeing Jessie in the audience my chest actually heaved and tightened. She had eyes only for me like she had been that night at the Lagoona, and just like that night, having her here made me feel like I could move mountains, or save the world.
She was epically beautiful, wearing a summery, off the shoulder dress in dark green. Her hair was piled on her head in some elaborate style that showed off the long lines of her neck every time her fingers grazed over the skin just over her breast. Literally, I wouldn’t be here right now without her.
“I owe everything I am to you…” I strummed the final chords of the song, Ian pounded on the drums and Wes played it up on guitar. “Thank you, First Ave! It’s been a fucking blast being here tonight! Thanks for having us!” The crowd erupted into whoops and hollers, and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t the biggest rush, especially with Jessie leading the cheer.
I blew a kiss at her, and she grinned widely, offering a little wave. Whatever was bugging her before seemed to be better. I peeled the strap off my neck and walked off the stage, as Anthony quickly rattled off our social media information. Wes was just behind me, and we walked the slight dark hallway to the backstage area.
“Say,” I said, catching him really quick. “Do you mind? I’ll be back. Something happened to Jess, and I need to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Sure thing.” Wes caught my hand in a brotherly shake and a clap. I handed him my guitar and headed out to the hallway that attached the main stage with the audience, nearly crashing into a dude with dark blonde hair that looked familiar.
“Whoa—shit. Man, I’m really bad about crashing into people. Sorry about that,” I said, righting myself before I knocked him over in my eagerness to get to my fiancée. I arched a brow immediately though, noticing who he was; the same man that made Jessie uneasy earlier.
“It’s all right.” He held out his hand, and I gingerly took it. “Adam Tremaine.”
I nearly had to pick my jaw up off of the floor. Jessie’s ex.
No wonder she was shitting bricks earlier.
“You’ve possibly heard of me,” he added, with an undignified chuckle, and I forced what I hoped was a very snide smile.
“Why yes, I have.” I tightened my grip. “Seth Archer. I’m Jessie’s fiancé.”
“Congrats, man,” Adam said, not sounding at all genuine. It was definitely sarcastic. “We came here for Jazz Davis, but you guys are really good. I was surprised.”
I flinched, surprised at the compliment. “Thank you,” was all I said blandly.
“You’re really going to be working with Miles Madison?”
I nodded singly. “Yeah, I am.”
“Damn. That’s impressive. Can I offer a bit of advice?” Adam said, with his thin lips twisted into a creepy sneer, and I knew whatever it was this bastard was about to say I was not going to like it.
“Okay?” I replied unconvincingly, but allowed him to speak his piece, calmly bracing myself for whatever shit he was about to say.
“Look, Jess is… well she’s a mess. You know she’s an alcoholic?”
“Fuck off with that!”
He grinned evilly. “Ah so it’s still a secret. Surprise! If you want to continue with your success, I would really consider letting that one go. You seem like a nice guy, and I’d hate to see her drama bring you—”
I don’t even know what came over me. All control I had over myself flew out the window the second he uttered anything about her. My fist was raised in half a heartbeat, and I connected with his face before I realized fully what I was doing. The feeling of his skin splitting under my knuckles was beyond satisfying, especially when he staggered backwards and grabbed his cheek, looking stunned.
I was taller than him by about four inches, so I glowered down at him, shaking my fist in his face as he cowered, his eyes wide with intimidation. Fucking good! “Don’t you dare fucking say that shit about Jess. I’m fully aware of the crap you pulled on her. If she was an alcoholic, it’s because you made her that way, you fucking asshole. I’ve heard the stories about how you fucking guilted her into sex, or belittled her at parties, or any number of fucking bullshit things you did to her. You didn’t fucking deserve her, you piece of shit!”
Adam stood back, slowly righting himself, rolling out his jaw as I panted, one fist clenched at eye level, the other at my side. He just grinned slowly. “Ah, I see now. You’re just as fucking unhinged as she is. Well, Mr. Archer, I hope you enjoy your downward spiral. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer over this.”
“Fuck you. Go ahead, sic your fucking lawyer on me you worthless piece of—” I began, stalking towards him again, when I felt two strong hands clasping my arms.
“Whoa—man what’s going on?” It was Wes, and he was almost successfully restraining me.
“This is Jessie’s bullshit ex, and he’s talking fucking smack!” I said angrily, my face and cheeks hot with raging fury.
Wes released my hands. “As you fucking were.” I gave him a thankful nod. Before I could smack the snide grin off his face again, we were interrupted.
“Oh my god—Adam?” The pregnant red-head in the audience from earlier came up beside him, mooning over him with concerned eyes, one hand still on her stomach.
“I’m fine, Rose. Just fine. Just a little… misunderstanding with my ex’s future spouse. No big deal.” He rubbed at the bruise already starting to form on his cheek. “Good luck, Archer. You’re going to need it.”
Rose glared at me and gathered Adam up, clinging to him as they walked away.
I shook my fist out at my side, still feeling hot with anger. “Fuck. This is the last thing I need right now. Goddammit! I shouldn’t have fucking lost it; he’s just enough of a prick to try to get me arrested.”
“Shit, man. Archer, if everything you’ve said about him is true, then he deserved it. I’ll fucking post your bail myself, all right man?” He clapped me lightly on the back. “Don’t sweat it. He’s a fucking pussy and deserved everything he just got. All right?”
I grumbled an agreement, but a twisted smile erupted on my face. “You should have watched the asshole fall.”
Wes tipped his head back and laughed. “Atta boy. Come on, let’s get your fiancée and get you out of here before I have to hose you down or something.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Everything packed up? Thanks for that, man.”
“No thanks necessary. You let me stay at your place, and I cockblocked you more than once. I’d say that makes us even,” he said with an exaggerated wink. “Let’s go.”
I followed him through the hallway and was just about to turn into the main venue, when Shane, Sabrina, and Jessie emerged, drinks in hand talking frantically.
Jessie saw me instantly, and the bright grin on her face quickly fell. �
��Oh my god, what happened?” She crashed into me, thrusting her drink at Shane as she wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest.
“It’s all right, honey. I had a little run in with your shit of an ex,” I replied with a low growl, and she looked up at me and gasped.
“Oh no.”
“Just a little altercation. He was…well let’s just say he had some not so great things to say about you,” I retorted dryly. I lifted my hands to cup her face when her eyes widened as she clutched my hand—one that now had split knuckles.
“Oh shit—you hit him, didn’t you?” She took my hand in hers and began rubbing at the blood that’d already started to congeal—that I hadn’t noticed before—with the pads of her thumbs.
“A little. But he fucking deserved it!” I protested, half expecting to get a lecture. Instead she looked up at me and grinned smugly.
“How did it feel?”
I let out a cackling laugh. “Euphoric.”
She brought my hand to her lips and kissed the bloody spots. Wes feigned a gag beside me, but I kicked out my leg and made contact with his knee. “Fuck you, Greenway.”
“God, he was a dick,” Shane groused. “I was about to punch him out myself. Nice going, Seth.” He lifted his drink at me in a triumphant toast, and I just abashedly shrugged.
“We should probably go before he tries to start more shit,” Jessie said, with a grimace. “Do you have anything else to do?”
“Well, I know the guys are going to grill me about the Miles stuff but…”
“Eh, I got you covered. Go home.” Shane leaned in and winked. “Practice making those babies, huh?” My mouth dropped open, and I felt my cheeks flush.
Jessie smacked him. “Stop that!” She grabbed her drink from him, downed whatever remained, and nodded towards the exit. “Let’s go.” Wes handed me my guitar back, and I took her hand. We headed out of the venue, pausing at a trash can for her to deposit her empty drink.
When I saw the red and blue spinning lights and two police officers starting towards the entrance, I knew I was screwed.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, exchanging an alarmed look with Jessie.
The first officer, a stern looking African-American woman with brightly colored lipstick approached me first. “Are you Seth Archer?”
Jessie immediately glared. “Why do you want to know?”
I tugged on her hand gently, and shook my head, silently willing her to drop her glower. “Yeah, I am.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you in, Sir. We have a report that you assaulted someone in the club, and we need to take you in for questioning,” she said, as her partner walked up next to her, a very young Hispanic guy who looked pretty green but still had an air of confidence about him.
“What? No, you have to be kidding me? Was it Adam Tremaine that reported it? Are you aware that—” Jessie began, and I clasped her on the shoulder.
“It’s okay, honey. I did what I did, and I’m not ashamed.” I gave her a wistful smile and bent over to kiss her cheek before turning back to the officer. “What am I being charged with?”
“3rd degree assault. If your record is clean, you’ll be let off easily, Mr. Archer. I’m afraid I’m going to have to frisk and cuff you, though,” the second officer said. “I’m Officer Lopez. I’m sorry to do this. I’m actually a rather big fan of your band.”
I nodded appreciatively, as Jessie began to tense. “Jess—it’s okay.” I handed the guitar to Jessie and held out my hands with a resolute sigh. Officer Lopez took out his silver cuffs, gripped my forearms and clasped them around my wrists tightly while reading me my “rights”. “You’re not armed or carrying any needles, are you?”
I shook my head. “No. Just a wallet and cell phone and keys is all I have.”
The officer nodded and proceeded to pat me down, pulling the items I mentioned out of my pockets. Over his shoulder, I saw Jessie’s face, red with fury, and clenched jaw as she clung onto the neck of the instrument. “This is not how I imagined my first time in handcuffs to go,” I said, with a snort. Jessie barely even smirked; her eyes shone with tears that threatened to fall.
“It’ll be all right ma’am. We’re just going to take him in. You can come down and post bail and he’ll be out tonight. We’ll just have to process and do paperwork,” the first officer said. Officer Lopez handed the cell phone and keys to Jessie, and she took them. “If the other party decides to press charges, it could get a bit more complicated.”
She snorted derisively. “Oh, he’ll press charges all right. Fuck!” She said, stamping a foot.
“We’re sorry, ma’am,” she said. “What is your name?”
“Jessie. He’s my fiancé,” she said, nodding towards me.
The first officer gave her a card, and I was taken over by the police car and instructed to sit down while Officer Lopez processed me with my ID.
“Will I get a chance to talk to her before we leave?” I asked, and though he didn’t look at me, he nodded.
“We’ll make sure you get a chance, as long as you cooperate.” Officer Lopez sighed. I sat in the backseat, frowning, watching Jessie outside talking to the first officer, talking and becoming visibly more upset as the moments slipped by.
“Everything looks good. Should I give this to your fiancée, Mr. Archer?” He asked, and I nodded.
“Please.”
“Be right back.” He climbed out of the vehicle, and I was left alone in the back seat of the police car, for fucking punching out Adam Tremaine. He handed her the ID, and they walked her to the vehicle, as she clung for dear life onto my guitar.
“Hey,” I said to her softly as they opened the door, and she knelt down to hear me. “Get the guys to stay with you, Shane or Wes or someone.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “God, babe, I’m so sorry my ex is such an ass.”
“It’s not your fault. He deserved that and a lot more,” I told her with a wink.
“We’ve got to go, ma’am,” the first officer said, and she nodded, reaching inside and grazing her fingers lovingly over the sides of my face before she leaned in and kissed my lips.
“I’ll be right there.”
“I know. I love you,” I called after her, as they started to shut the door on me, and her reply of “love you too” was cut off.
Wes emerged just as I was being driven away—thank god—and I sat back in the seat and just pretended to enjoy the ride.
I didn’t regret hitting that asshole—not one bit. But I wasn’t a fan of whatever would become of it.
12
Jessalie
It was near around 5 A.M. before Seth was finally released after I posted the bail, and we still didn’t know whether or not Adam was going to press charges.
We were too exhausted to drive all the way home, so Wes let us stay at his place, in Seth’s old room until we could rest up and get home. Wes lived in a suburb of Minneapolis called Richfield, and thankfully it was a fairly easy drive—just a straight shot down the highway. Seth drove the truck, thankfully because even though my alcohol buzz had worn off hours ago, I was still reeling from the night’s events.
“Wow, I never fucking thought I’d be sleeping in here again,” Seth said as he switched on the light and shut the door behind us. Wes’ apartment was a decent size, two bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. It was a simple room, with a full-size bed with mismatched gray bedding, and a single nightstand and a lamp.
“Just make sure if you go at it, you’re either really quiet so I don’t know or really loud so I can catch the show,” Wes retorted from behind us, and Seth turned to give him a playful shove.
“Don’t taunt me man, I’m a hardened criminal now,” he said, shaking his fist at him.
Wes laughed. “That’s right; I’m fucking terrified. I think you might still have some clothes in the dresser, but I’m not sure. I haven’t looked in a while. You know where the shower is; use whatever you need. ‘Night guys. If you’re up and leaving
before I’m awake, just lock the door behind you.”
Seth nodded. They exchanged a friendly handshake, and Wes groggily stumbled off towards his bedroom. When Seth turned to me finally, after hours of being apart, his expression was hesitant.
After spending most of the night—with Wes—in the lobby of the Minneapolis police station, getting leered at by other hardened criminals, I was still feeling a bit uneasy. Like, actual criminals, waiting for Seth to get processed and whatever it was they did. Seth had sometimes described Wes as a bit of an ass, but he was on his best behavior the entire time we waited, and I was actually glad for his presence. My phone buzzed off the hook all night long from Shane and everyone else wondering what the hell had happened. I spent most of the night either getting grilled via text from the guys or avoiding various leers from various people going in and out. I actually had scooted as close to Wes as I could get, hoping that it’d detract people from leering, but Wes got as many stares. We were both uncomfortable as hell. I kind of wished Shane and Anthony were there to take the heat off us. Shane would attract attention because he was unassuming and so fabulous, and Anthony because he was just fairly intimidating.
But the station had been stuffy, and right now I wanted nothing more than to strip out of my clothes and get into bed. And, even more than that, I needed to be close to Seth again. Watching him get driven away in the backseat of a police car was enough to frazzle every goddamn last nerve in my body.
Seth still stood hesitantly, like he was expecting me to be mad. “Fuck, honey. I’m so sorry. This is not how I wanted this night to go.” His glimpse fell, and he shuffled his feet nervously on the floor.
The anxiety poured off him in waves during the drive to Wes’ place, and I allowed him his time to be quiet and reflect.
But enough of that, now. I took a step towards him, daring to gaze up into his face. “Think this is what I wanted? I had to pay like, fifty bucks out of some convenience store ATM to pull out enough cash to bail you out. Not to mention I could only pull out so much, so I had to borrow from Wes and cut him a damn check. The ass has my account number now.” I feigned being stern, just wanting to mess with him. Seth’s face had sunk, and he went from sexy to vulnerably adorable.