Page 22 of Still Her
I come out to find Jack still on the phone, and pouring a shot of scotch into two tumblers.
“We head to Charleston next, and then Atlanta,” he tells Mike. “Yeah… two shows in Atlanta and then a night off. Are you sure? I hate to make you do that, but… we seriously don’t know what to do. He knows what he’s doing as far as not getting caught…”
I hang on to the words of Jack’s side of the conversation as I take off my jewelry, dropping each piece onto the dresser.
“Do you know anyone? Someone that can look up his history? I just want to take care of this now, this second. He harassed my wife in a bathroom for fucks sake, and he’s telling her he’s going to pull this shit again soon. Alright, alright, fine. We’ll see you in a couple days. Thanks, man. Hug Sarah for us. Bye.”
He disconnects the call and tosses his phone down on the wet bar. He picks up both tumblers and makes his way over, holding one out to me.
“Thanks,” I say, letting out a breath and taking it from him. We’re not usually the night-cap type, but we’ve been known to have a drink if it’s been an exceptionally long or stressful day. He pounds his while I sip mine, letting the burn in my chest singe the anxiety. I sit down on the bed and rub Penny’s head when she puts it in my lap. Jack stays standing and shrugs out of his sport coat, tossing it on a nearby chair.
“How are you doing, baby?”
I nod, as I sip my drink. “Better. I don’t know how much sleep I’ll get tonight, but…” I shrug, trailing off for a second. “I’m doing okay.”
“That’s good,” he acknowledges as I stand up and turn my back to him, pulling my hair over to one side. He responds to my signal and helps me with the zipper on the back of my dress. Normally, the sexy act would lead to other things, but we’ve both got a serious weight on our minds. I can tell that Jack is keeping his composure for my benefit, but his blood is boiling. The set of his jaw gives it away when I turn back around to face him.
I finish the last little bit of my drink and walk over to set the glass down on the dresser.
“So, Mike is coming out to meet us in Atlanta,” he tells me as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt.
“Are you serious?” I whirl towards him as I peel my dress off and push it down before stepping out of it.
“Yeah, he’s going to help us strategize what to do about this, and in the meantime, he’s going to look up a couple of old contacts to see if any of them can help.” He says all of this as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt and pulls it off of his shoulders.
“That… makes me feel really good, actually. I’m glad he’s coming.”
“Me too,” he agrees, tossing his shirt aside before walking over to me in his black slacks and bare chest. He takes my face in his hands so that he can level me with the solemn look in his eyes. “He’s not going to get away with this shit, Maze.”
“I know…” I blow out a breath. “But he owns the agency, and if you guys try to break your contract or retaliate, he’ll screw you nine ways to Sunday because we don’t have any substantial proof of what he’s doing. All anyone has to go on, is my word.”
“That’s what Mike can hopefully help us with, baby. But I’ll tell you what we’re not going to do. We’re not going to play his game. No matter what the cost, I’m not letting him continue to do this,” he stoops to keep his eyes level with mine when I try to look down. “No matter the cost. Okay?”
I nod, looking up at him and trying to tell him the million ways I love him with my eyes. How much I adore him, how thankful I am for him. “Okay,” I quietly concede, and he kisses my mouth, but when he pulls back, his face is full of questions.
“You are so worried about what he’ll do to the band, but I’m only worried about how this affects you. Baby you are always putting the band first, why?”
My mouth hangs open, and I look at him and slowly shake my head, trying to find the answer. “I don’t know, I just… it’s your life. Your livelihood. They’ve been part of your life for so much longer than I have, if you didn’t have that anymore… would you be able to be happy?”
He closes his eyes and looks down, his hair falling in his face. “If you don’t know the answer to that, then I haven’t been doing my job as your husband. The guys and I have always known the band was not going to be forever. Hell, I was still eighteen when we formed. We all knew life was going to happen at some point for each of us, and we never expected to get this far. Baby, all this,” he gazes around the room, as if trying to indicate the whole rock life we live, “can’t compete withyou. Not the other way around. If it all ended tomorrow, I’d still be the happiest man in the world because I’d still have you. And that’s why I’ll stop at nothing -,” he’s cut off when I stand up on my toes to cup his face and kiss the hell out of him. He lets me. His hands are still gripping my back when I gently pull away, and he asks, “What was that for?”
“For saying all of that.”
“It’s the honest fucking truth,” he says, shaking his head down at me.
“I know,” I concede. I know by now how limitless his love for me is. “But like you said, this thing with the band was always going to be fleeting. I just want you to have it as long as you can.”
“I know,” he kisses me again.
After the usual nighttime routines, we strip the rest of the way down and climb into bed. After he turns out the lights, I immediately scooch over to him and snuggle into his waiting arms. They’re so strong and warm, and just what I need right now. The scotch has numbed just enough of the after effect from tonight’s events that I can just focus on enjoying this feeling.
“I feel so safe like this,” I sigh contentedly into his warm, solid chest, letting my finger trace the lines of the tattoo there.
“Sweetheart, I’m always going to keep you safe,” he replies, intertwining our legs. “And I promise I’m going to make this go away.”
Despite what I thought earlier, I actually sleep like a brick.
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