The Rebellion Page 13

“I liked it.” No, I loved it.

  “What was that?”

  I know he heard me, but repeating myself is the least I owe him. “I liked being with you again. Everything you said is true for me too. I didn’t mean to sound otherwise.” I have to choose my words carefully. If he gets any whiff of bad times, he’ll feel the need to swoop in and save me. I know him well enough to know that. He already offered to help Ace and me, but I can’t accept anything. Not from him. His death could come from the goodness of his heart. Reggie can never find out about him being in my life again and Derrick can’t know what’s really going on.

  I have to keep him safe. He’s another person I’m responsible for. “I’m drowning in all the things I have to do, the stuff I have to worry about, the lives that depend on me.” Tonight I put my son and mom at risk, and for what? An emotional and physical attraction that could end us all? “I keep saying this, but I need you to hear me. There is nothing wrong with us. I agree. It’s just so easy to slip into the old us that we almost forgot that there’s a new us. An us that moved on from the other. You’re leaving. I’m staying. We both just keep moving.”

  “Let me help you, Jaym—”

  “It’s not charity when it comes to you and me. You know that.” His voice is deep, his tone as comforting as his words. And for a brief second I consider the offer—what if he could save us? Just one friend helping another. Maybe we could be more and live that happily ever after all . . .

  Despite the hands around my throat, I can hear Ace crying for me in the back room. I don’t think Reggie does. I pray he doesn’t. He will have to kill me before I let him near my son.

  At two years old, Ace can sense my distress when Reggie visits. He hides like I taught him to and usually is very quiet until I retrieve him. Reggie swears he will hunt me down like a dog, kill me, and take my son under his wing if I ever betray him. I don’t have to lie when it comes to Derrick. I don’t know anything about him these days. It makes me wonder if I ever did. Some days I wonder if our relationship was simply a part of my imagination and less a part of my memories the more time passes between us.

  I fear Reggie. I fear what he represents in my life. Control.

  “We used to be friends, Jamie. Real friends. Friends who had fun together. Friends . . . friends . . . I don’t think I have any friends anymore. Rebel fucking loved you. But I wanted you first.”

  I don’t know why that popped into my head. Pieces that didn’t make sense then, now do. Reggie liked me. And Derrick knew. So has my life really been controlled by his jealousy all this time? I’ve been thinking it was because Derrick sold Reggie out to the police over that deal. I think I’ve sorely underestimated Reggie’s ego and how far he’ll go for revenge. Over me.

  At the end of all the days, he’s still Ace’s father. No matter how many times I cried for it not to be true, that fact is never going to change.

  “What do you want me to do, Derrick? Take your money and what?”

  “Get the fuck out of that part of the city. Buy a house—”

  A house? I scoff. “You’re going to give me enough to buy a house?”

  “If you’d take it.”

  “I won’t,” I reply too quickly, the response automatic.

  “Without thought, you answer. Without even considering the possibility, you respond so quickly.” I’ve been on the freeway for a few minutes and the quiet hum of the road under the tires is the only sound heard until he adds, “I owe you so much. A house is one thank you I can give you.”

  “You owe me nothing. Don’t let guilt override your better judgment. You’ve done so well for yourself. Get out on that stage and play your heart out. Music is in your blood and it’s a gift you can share. Share it, Derrick. Then meet a girl who treats you well and have a family. Forget about me. Tonight wasn’t a coming together. It was the goodbye we never got.”

  “It was the goodbye I never wanted.”

  Despite the verbal punch to the gut, I continue, not letting my pain show, or at least not all of it. It would be impossible to hide. “Circles. We’re still spinning in circles, but I can’t ride this merry-go-round with you. You might not know it, but I’m so happy for you and your success. I smile when I hear your songs on the radio and remember the good times when I see you perform on TV. It’s time for you to let go of the past that’s dragging you down and move into that light that shines brightly just for you.”

  “And for you.” No, there is no bright light for me. Not yet.

  “No,” I say, “In another life, I’ll live out that dream. In this one, I just need to keep moving. Goodbye.”

  “Good night works better for me.”

  “Good night? Fine. If that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep at night. Good night.” I disconnect before he can talk me out of it and before he talks me into coming back to his fancy house. I arrive at my mom’s just before midnight. She’s waiting up for me and hugs me when she sees me. Getting a good look at me, she says, “Why didn’t you stay?”

  I close the door behind me and lock it. “Why would I stay?”

  “Ace fell asleep at eight. He’s not woken up.” Relief is found that he sleeps so well over here. She walks to the kitchen and starts the coffeepot. “You’re a grown woman, Jamie, but if you want to continue acting like a lovesick teenager, I’ll play along a little longer.” Staring at her, I can tell she knows. She says, “Well, at least you had a good time.”

  My eyes go wide. She really does know. “Mom.”

  “Don’t Mom me. You look a mess, but you look happy, so I’m happy.” Leaning against the counter, I watch as she gets two mugs from the cabinet and pours in creamer. She knows exactly how I like my coffee, even when we drink decaf at midnight. “How was his house?”

  The most incredible place I’ve ever seen. I think about the robe I’m going to be sleeping in later and how even something so basic like a robe can be that luxurious. “I can’t even imagine living in a place like that. Even the wine glasses were crystal.” She smiles and pours the hot liquid into our mugs and stirs, mixing it up. The dark brown turns to a tawny and she hands me mine. I take a sip and goodness fills me. “I can’t fall in love with him.”

  “But you want to?”

  “I don’t think there’s ever been a choice when it comes to me and him.”

  Her happiness really does shine right through her smile and the creases around her eyes that only deepen when she’s happy. “You’re going to be moving in here in a week. Once you’re under this roof, Reggie loses power. I won’t allow him to continue his tyranny over you or Ace.” She comes to me and sets my mug down. Holding my hands, she says, “I will protect you and Ace always, however I can. Together, we can figure out how to stop him.”

  Moving to the small rickety table, I drop my head in my heads. “He will never let Ace go, even if he let me and that seems unlikely. I’m stuck. He’s holding all the cards. He doesn’t care about him. He never sees him. He’s just waiting for Ace to hit double digits, so he can step in and play a part in his life. Him not being around now works to my advantage. If I don’t make some money, we’re going to be stuck here forever.”

  She sits next to me and rubs my arm. “For now. Only stuck for now.”

  Instead of coffee, I opt for bed. Since Ace sleeps in my old room, I pull out the foldout couch and make it up with my mom. She tucks me in and kisses my head. “Things will get better. I promise you.” I hope so. I hate the despair I live with daily.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  The lights are out, the curtains closed. I lie on the couch wide awake. Thinking about everything from the night I was raped to tonight. I hate that I can even have those thoughts in the same night. For every harsh and violent thing Reggie did to me, Derrick covered me in love and kisses, soothing the damage that was left behind.

  One day I’ll only have a highlights reel of memories to remind me of my life, and like he is now to the rest of the world, he’ll always be one of the s
tars in mine.

  18

  Derrick

  The band has been jamming all afternoon. We stopped for food and then started up on a few of the new songs. We’ve been playing them on the tour, but there have been a few kinks we’re still working out.

  “Fucking hell, Derrick!” A drumstick flies by. When I look at Dex, he says, “If you fucking miss that lead-in one more time, I’m going to play my solo and then come fucking play your part right after.”

  I call them kinks. They call them screw-ups. Whatever. It’s all the same. “I’m fixing it. Next time I’ll nail it.”

  The other drumstick flies across the room and slams into the padded wall of the studio. He picks his stool up and raises it above his head. Right when he’s about to slam it to the floor, he stops, and turns his back to us. The stool is set down again and he walks through the room toward the door. “I’m getting a Coke.”

  Johnny checks his watch, a watch that probably cost more than—well, that analogy doesn’t work since my first and second cars were pieces of shit. He looks up and says, “I have forty-five minutes until I need to get home, dressed, and ready to take my wife out on a date I’ve been promising to do during this tour break. I can’t be late. Holliday threatened me already.”

  “Why do you even want to go out?” I ask. “Aren’t you just harassed the whole time?”

  “I don’t need it, but every couple of months she likes to see if we can go out and do regular stuff like shop for watermelon water at Whole Foods or see a movie at Grauman’s and then walk around after seeing if my feet were as big as John Wayne’s. Other times it’s The Pier in Santa Monica or shopping at The Grove.” He sets his guitar down and grabs his phone from a chair next to him.

  “Does it work?” I ask.

  “No, it doesn’t work. It never works, but Holliday is determined to lead as normal a life as she can and she likes to think we can do that together. It’s supposed to keep us grounded.”

  He’s the most grounded person I know in the band. He could legit walk away from all the fame, the band, and everything and be happy living out his life in Ojai Valley. I’ve heard the stories, read the shit published about him, but he’s changed. I think that’s what is happening to me.

  Change.

  It can’t be that fucking bad if Johnny Outlaw chose to do it. He’s my idol. Everything he went through, where he came from, the work he puts into the music—he’s a legend for a reason. “You once talked about a crisis you went through.”

  He sits down and then leans back in the chair like he’s going to be there a while. “I spent half my twenties burning through life, fucking angry at everything, my dad, a girl named Patty O’Toole who dumped me in high school when I got injured. I was mad at the whole world and I was hell-bent on destroying myself.”

  Slumping down into a chair, I pretend to tighten and tune my guitar while taking his story in. It’s familiar, hitting close to home. Very close. “So what changed?”

  “Me. I met a woman.”

  I don’t fail to notice the Patty chick was called a girl, his wife a woman. What if the woman is the same as the girl? I can’t say she dumped me for Reggie, but the hookup still surprises me. Tumultuous. That’s what she called their relationship. I’ve treaded carefully when it comes to the topic. My ego took more than a wallop over that bombshell, but I can tell it’s a sensitive subject for her. She has a kid she has to put first.

  Johnny adds, “I met the right woman at the right time. I was over groupies and drugs. I wanted a clear mind and clear conscience. The only way to get where I needed to be was to take a step back. I wanted it to be about the music, the art, the fans, the rhyme, the rhythm. I was lonely though. It’s strange how you can be surrounded by twenty thousand people, but at night you still walk into an empty hotel room and nothing. Silence. It plays tricks on you.” He sits forward and rests his arms on his legs. “I was sitting at a bar in Vegas pretending to be someone I wasn’t. That’s when I met her. She knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.”

  “What was that?”

  Shrugging, he cocks a smile. “That night? A hotel security manager, but she got a rock star instead. It was a win-win situation for both of us.” He reaches over and cracks the lid off of a bottle of water and drinks. “You guys,” he says, looking between Kaz and me, “find who you want to be and fight for it. Everyone outside this room is looking to tear you down or replace you.”

  Kaz says, “Dex and Tommy are outside this room.”

  Johnny chuckles. “Like I said . . . Anyway.” After making his joke, he stands and blows out a big breath. “We’ve been there or gone through it, so if you are or are going to, we’re here. The five of us, no matter where we are in the world or in our lives, we’ve got your back.” Before he walks out the door, he says, “Go after the woman, Derrick. You’ll find out fast as fuck if she’s into you or not. If she is, you’re gonna score for the romance. If she’s not, eh, you’ll get your ass kicked to the curb, but we leave tomorrow anyway. There’s always a groupie waiting in every city ready to heal your broken heart.” They’re not there for my heart.

  Before Johnny leaves, Kaz asks, “The burning question is, are your feet bigger or smaller than John Wayne’s?”

  “Bigger, but I wouldn’t say otherwise.” He laughs and signals to Tommy in the other room with the producer.

  Tommy gets up and makes his way in. Taking Johnny’s guitar and picking up Dex’s drumsticks, he looks at me, and says, “Buy ya a beer?”

  “You got it. Kaz, you coming?”

  “Yeah, but only for one.”

  * * *

  Kaz and Tommy are drunk.

  Man, Kaz’s tolerance has gone downhill since we moved into our own places. He says he has Russian mafia ties if I ever need something taken care of. I’m not in a good mental state because I actually start considering this option in regard to Reggie. Tommy’s been whining about love for forty-five minutes and Kaz has his arm wrapped around him agreeing wholeheartedly about Tommy getting older and needing to settle down. Have some kids.

  The last part drags me back into their inebriated bromance of self-help. That’s when it dawns on me. I whack Kaz in the chest. Oops. I didn’t mean to knock him off the stool. Reaching down, I give him a solid hand and pull his ass up. “What the fuck was that for?” he slurs.

  “Accident. Sorry.” It was all him, but I’ll take the blame. His balance is as drunk as he is. “You told Tommy he should have kids.”

  He stares at me blankly. So I say, “That he should settle down and have kids.”

  Still nothing. “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course,” he says, shrugging like this is common knowledge.

  “What do you mean of course?”

  “Don’t you? Isn’t that what living the dream really means?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Living the dream means we are literally living out our dreams. Playing to sold-out shows, millions of fans, traveling the world, making money doing what we love.”

  “Sure, there’s that answer.” I can practically see the beer slosh in his eyes when he rolls them. “But like Outlaw said, what do we come home to? That’s up to us. When the tours stop and the records aren’t gold anymore, what do we have? I’ll tell you what we have. A warm bed with a hot woman. Family. Friends. People who love you because of who you are on the inside, not because we’re famous or slept with a bevy of princesses. No. We’ll have a home where they leave the light on for you.”

  “Dude, I think you’re confusing your argument with a motel commercial.”

  “Whatever. What were we talking about?”

  “Lara and how you need to get home to her.”

  “Yup. I do. I’ll see you chaps tomorrow.” He pats my back and grabs Tommy by the shirt. “Come on, Tommy. Your ass can sleep at mine.”

  I look down at the beer in front of me. I don’t think I even finished a pint.

  The guys are right. This is bullshit. The emotions and Jaymes are me
ssing with my head. I’m a fucking rock star. I can have any girl I want.

  While I wait for valet to pull my car around like the fucking LA pussy I’ve become, I drop the act. Being a rock star is awesome, better than any dream I ever had. But I don’t want just any girl. Nope. Now that I’ve spent time with Jaymes again, she’s the only woman I want.

  I get in my car and use my not-so-secret weapon. The phone rings and before she can speak, I say, “Mom, I need a favor.”

  * * *

  The lights are still on inside, but it’s almost ten at night, so I knock lightly. The creak of the floor signals someone is looking through the peephole. One lock and then another. The door opens and Jaymes is there looking like an angel in her nightgown. It’s not sexy, but it’s cotton and a little see-through. She looks younger, almost like I remember, with her hair down and loose around her shoulders. The deep color a stark contrast to the nightgown. I’m starting to think she can’t look anything but stunning every time I see her.

  “Hi.” She gazes up at me, and asks, “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you before I left.”

  “You leave tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  A pink tongue dips out and wets her bottom lip before it’s dragged under her top teeth. The war is waging. Her nightgown blowing in the gentle breeze signals her surrender. “I’m glad you came by.” The door is opened and I walk on in.

  She closes the curtains, but then peeks out before tugging hard in the middle for privacy. When she turns around, she asks, “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Water would be great.”

  That makes her smile for some reason. I follow her into the kitchen and watch as she gets the glass and fills it with ice and then water from a container in the fridge. “Thanks.”

  Leaning against the other counter, her arms are crossed, but not hiding her chest or body from me. More just waiting to hear why I’m there. “So what really brings you by this late?”