Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2) (14 page)

BOOK: Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2)
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Chapter Twenty- Six

Emily

 

It had been one hell of a show. Love Sick Ponies knew how to rock and no one could tell that the three of them weren’t getting along. Leaving their personal issues back stage, the three of them were in sync with one another. I couldn’t help but feel proud of my boys. In such a short time, I had come to adore each of them. I wanted to take care of them.

Johnny winked at me every time he could and I, in my awesome leather jacket and skinny jeans felt gorgeous, sexy, and the rightful girlfriend of Love Sick Ponies’ guitarist. I felt the heat between us – even with him being on stage – we were on our way to becoming something amazing. I wasn’t sure yet how I would fit in with the tours but I tried to forget about that and stay in the moment. Our love making was intense. Our talks were endless and my heart grew for the man on the stage with each passing moment.

After the encore, one of Johnny’s guards took me to the backstage party area where I saw him, Ethan, and Dex signing shirts and tickets. Women gushed over the three of them and I had a twinge of jealousy that they got to have him before me but I quickly pushed it to the back of my mind and waited my turn.

I walked over to the refreshments and took a beer from a large bucket of ice. Someone had turned on the music so I plopped my butt down on a leather couch and watched the trio continue with their fans. Ethan noticed me sitting off to the left and threw me a little wave. I waved back and took a long pull from my beer.

That was when the flood gates opened to every single, horny, well-endowed female in the state of Pennsylvania.

Holy. Shit.

Even though they initially looked taken aback, the band quickly got into party mode and began mingling with the dozens of women. From my perch on the couch, I couldn’t see Johnny anymore and my beer was almost out. I knew if I got up, I would lose my spot. How had this night turned so sour in a matter of minutes? I shook my head at the negative thoughts and got up for another beer.

Once I grabbed it from the ice bucket, I turned back to see if anyone had taken my seat. That’s when I noticed two girls paying extremely close care to Johnny. One was kissing his neck from behind him while he was smiling down at a girl who was on her hands and knees, about ready to do something with his belt. I stared at them for a long time, waiting for him to do something that would be considered cheating but he didn’t. They playfully touched him while he egged them on. I wished the beer bottle had been an open glass so I could throw its contents in his smug little face.

Ethan jumped into my line of vision and gave me a souring sad look.

“He’s acting.” He tone was weird. It was like I was a child and he was scolding me.

“What?” I asked a hint of irritation in my voice. I pointed at Johnny and the two bitches. “That’s acting? Where’s the audience? Or am I the only one watching?”

“Those two girls try to get in his pants every time they see him. He doesn’t want them but they are also very close with our label so he can’t tell them to knock it off. Both Dex and I have told him to send them our way but they won’t go for it. Johnny doesn’t want them. Can’t you see that smile on his face? Fake,” Ethan announced.

“So how long before I can go up to my boyfriend and kiss him after a good show then?” I asked.

Ethan squirmed a little. “I think you should wait. Tonight, with those two being here, he needs to act like he’s single. Kiss him on the bus. Hell, I’ll even tell him to act sick so he can go to the bus early. Just… just don’t make a scene. We have enough bullshit going on with our label.”

I winced at the fact that kissing Johnny would be considered bullshit.

“Oh fuck, Em. I didn’t mean it like that. We have to find a way to let the world know you are his girl, you know. Maybe we need a press release or something.”

I nodded as I called Johnny, Ethan, and this whole stupid lifestyle every name in the book. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong anywhere. Scratch that – I belonged on a bus, away from everyone’s watchful eyes. Away from watching everyone try to fuck my boyfriend.

I took one more look at Johnny. Somehow he must have felt my eyes on him because he looked up and winced when he saw me staring in disgust. I flew out of there like a bat out of hell. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan heading for Johnny, asking him if he could talk to him real quick. I didn’t stick around for their pow wow. I wanted a pillow, preferably Johnny’s, and I wanted my head under it for at least twelve hours. This wasn’t the life for me. No matter what Ethan told Johnny, it wouldn’t matter. I was supposed to just sit by and watch show after show? I was supposed to smile at the big breasted floozies that threw themselves at Johnny? This wasn’t what I wanted with my life.

For the first time ever, I truly knew what it felt like to belong to no one, to nothing, to nowhere.

The air was refreshing as I pumped the door out and drew in a long cleansing breath. I was on the cusp of making a life altering decision and it was going to be all about me. I closed my eyes to the noise I still heard inside and thought about waiting a few minutes to see if Johnny was going to follow me.

I shook my head at that stupid thought and started down to the bus.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look like a rocking slut?” In my mind, windows crashed, car brakes squealed, and little babies were crying. Michael had found me.

I looked up to find the piece of shit, leaning against an old beater.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I gasped, throwing my hands out to him and encompassing the car. It had to be older than I was and Michael never drove crappy cars. It was all so surreal. I turned back to see if anyone had come out of the door when he grabbed me from behind.

“You think you can just leave me after all these years? You think you can become some sort of rock slut? That isn’t you, Emily. You belong in my house, doing my laundry, making my dinners. You are too nice for this life and it’s better you keep quiet and come home with me now.”

“Fuck you, Michael. I wouldn’t touch your disgusting underwear with a ten foot pole and dinner? Go find another pushover to be your bitch.”

Immediately, I was up against his body and he was talking a mile a minute in my ear. I caught a whiff of perfume and a slight smell of liquor but then I had been drinking, too. He told me I didn’t belong with anyone but him. He told me I needed to be a good girl and get into his friend’s car now. His friend’s car? Michael had friends in Pennsylvania?

I must have looked defiant because he started to squeeze me harder and roughly told me to do what he said or he’d kill me right there.

Not only did I believe him but I wanted him to. I would rather die than to get in the car with Michael. He tried to kiss me, he tried to hold me down but it wasn’t until I saw Johnny running toward us that I knew.

It was all over.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Johnny

 

Nothing Ethan had said about Emmy being jealous of those stupid groupie girls made any sense to me. Didn’t she know that it was part of the business – a show continued into the back stage? I had toned it down so much since I met her and I only wished that she could have seen the difference. Ethan obviously had. I found respect for Ethan in comforting her and then telling me what Emmy couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Besides, Emmy and I were so close when I wasn’t performing. She had trust issues because of that douche bag ex of hers but she had to realize that our connection was unique. We had a different kind of love that I think only the bandmates, her, and I recognized. Put it simply, I couldn’t imagine her thinking that I would choose a floosy over her. She had so much more to give me than any other person had. Emily –
my
Emily. Just her name got my heart beating faster. One name and I was sunk. Fuuccckkkk. I had fallen in love and it was so real this time. It didn’t even compare to the feelings I had for Jules – not even a damn little bit. The differences were senseless to even point out. She made me feel protective and obsessive and yet, I loved being her friend - my best friend.

I stepped out of the back door to head to the bus. I had to tell her all of this. If nothing else, I would do anything to put her jealousy at ease so she enjoyed my shows. I wanted her to smile. I needed her to love being there and that was a big ole wrench that needed to get tossed out.

The sounds of people pulled me out of my internal tirade. My focus shifted over to a red beater Ford Taurus. I walked toward it without another thought - a
magnetic
pull. I sensed the draw and within seconds I understood why. I saw her and my breath vanished.

The spins conquered my entire world – breathless, light headed, and broken – too weak to stand tall and steady. Outside that crappy cement building, in the middle of East Bum Fuck Pennsylvania, I watched my relationship with Emily crumble. Holy mother of all that was living -
my
Emmy was hugging, kissing, and touching intimately with another man. His hands were down her pants and her eager groans were unlike any I had ever heard before.

In that moment, my entire life flashed before my eyes. Wasn’t that supposed to happen right before I was about to die? I saw and felt what Jules had seen. I saw Dex’s disappointment in me and I now felt that disappointment in myself. I saw the magazines, the newspapers, the media and I cared in that moment. I didn’t want to be that guy any longer. He was disgusting. I… I was disgusting. I continued to watch the woman I was in a committed relationship with get aroused by another man and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it. My heart, already bandaged by past artificial misgivings, broke free of those bandages and began to pulse out the proverbial blood - pint by pint. I fell to my knees. My defenses against everything and everyone fell away. Nothing would ever matter again. I ached and I broke – second by second.

That was until I heard Emmy’s strangled voice force out one devastating and unfathomable word.

“Don’t.” It was hoarse, gasped, and panicked. Emily was
fighting
against another male.

My head whipped up and I looked at the scene unfolding in front of me. Anyone walking by would have liked to believe that two lust sick people were engaged in a crazy, steamy make out session. Surfaces. Artificial. For those very few of us that looked a little closer – well, we saw a whole different steamed up situation.

Emmy was fighting as the man pulled her hair to make her lips stay stuck on to his. Her other hand was not trying to rip for the man’s zipper. She was blocking the man from his hand finding its way down her pants. He had her head at such an angle that it had to make it very difficult for her to breathe.

I was on my feet in nanoseconds. My fists were pumping, preparing them for the blows they were about to unleash on this motherfucker.

I was too late.

Right before I could pull him off and away from Emmy, he had taken her head, her beautiful, fragrant head and smashed it into the window of the passenger’s door. The force was so fucking hard that the whole window shattered and half of her head had gone through it.

I wanted to vomit. I didn’t see red. I saw blood. Blood immediately started to pulse from the side of her head. When he dragged her head back through the window to do it again, her eye got caught on a piece of glass and ripped the side of her face in two. Her one eye rolled back into her head and she immediately collapsed to the ground in agony.

Her screams did me in. I flipped the fucker around and started pounding, pounding, pounding.

Over and over.

Blow after blow.

Ethan’s words pierced through my ragged breaths and he was talking to someone. He wasn’t trying to talk me out killing the bastard that much I knew. His mission was to save my Emily. He was telling someone – Dex, sounding like I had never heard him before was screaming at someone – that her pulse was slow and light.

Once I was sure this man wasn’t getting back up, I got up and looked down at the wreckage.
My beautiful Emily.
Her smiling face looked like a scene out of a horror film. It was unbearable to look at her and yet, I moved down to her ear, slightly nudging Ethan away from her side as I started to bawl.

“Em, you stay with me, baby. God dammit, I fucking love you. God dammit, Emmy, I’m so, so sorry I did this to you. I did this and I’m so sorry. Oh God, please forgive me Emily.”

My trembling, bashed up fingers touched the side of her face that hadn’t been torn up, and although still bloodied by her wounds, I stroked her cheek and thought of her laughing at my dumb jokes, her innocent lips when I kissed them, and the way she said my name – so fluidly like it was the only word that her parents taught her.

I leaned down and kissed her lips. Through her blood and my downpour of tears, I held my lips on hers while I prayed for a rewind button. I needed a fucking redo on this because I could have stopped it and my selfish pride took over, creating the artificial love scenario. I was so wrong, so wrong to never have said more, to have done more because the more I kept my lips on her, the faster she was slipping away from my life.

Slip away, she did. I was immediately pulled up from her with great force. EMTs began to work on the bleeding as I hardly heard a policeman grab my sore hands to handcuff behind my back and begin to read me my Miranda rights. I watched Emily. I didn’t take my eyes off her until my head was lowered into a police car and the door was abruptly shut.

I knew that would be the last time I would see her because from the fucked up scene I’d just left, no one but me would come out alive. There was no way. My love was fighting for her life and I was going to have to fight first degree murder charges.

I bargained and pleaded with God until I noticed a postcard on the dashboard of the police car through the grated barrier. It said, “It’s always sunny and nice in Florida!” It had to be a sign so I silently started praying to Grace. She had been murdered. Did she feel it as much as Emily had? Emily felt every single rip of her face and I banged my head on the back of the seat trying to think of any other image.

I thought about her lips. I would go to jail for the rest of my life if I got one more chance to kiss those lips…warm and smiling. My adrenaline crash had me crying again, wishing I hadn’t done what I did so I could be with her. That was the only reason. I needed her to know that she was the right one for me. Now, I didn’t think I was the right one for anyone.

I said nothing when we arrived at the police station and the policemen booked me, took my photo, and started in on the questioning. Whenever they asked a question, I had nothing. I couldn’t feel my body and my brain only produced the scene of her head crashing into the window and the blood that followed when she was pulled back through.

I vomited on the floor next to me since I was still cuffed. It took them some time to clean it up, mostly beer and a little bit of vodka. Our spaghetti dinner she had fed us that night before the show mixed in. I began to cry again, my head tilted down to my bloodied shirt so it would catch the tears and never ending snot.

After they had cleaned up and placed a waste basket next to me, they started to question me again through my sobbing hiccups. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk. I think if I hadn’t just witnessed what I did, I would have eloquently said something. I didn’t ask for a lawyer. I didn’t ask for a tissue, water, or even a bathroom when I peed myself through my continued vomiting.

I don’t know how much time had passed before they left me to sit there alone and whimpering, flashes of her well, flashes of her brutal attack, flashes of me kissing her bloodied lips. It was on an endless loop with no pit stop in sight.

I vomited repeatedly - dry heaving bubbles of terror. At last, they took me to a cell where I drowned in the feeling of being alone. I crawled around the floor. Eventually, I spun into the fetal position and mercifully fell asleep on the cold, hard concrete floor.

I woke up a few times to a man whining, whimpering, and then full on moaning.

“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled out at him. I darted my eyes around the cell floor and saw no one. My head was pounding and my hands were stabbed with constant pain.

The next time I woke up, the fucker was whining and crying again.

“Man, if you don’t fucking shut your God damn trap…” I yelled as I looked around the cell to see no one. I was on the floor, a cot there unoccupied. I crawled up to the cot and prayed that the guy inside this cell would stop his damn moaning.

My eyes slid to the jingle of keys and a booming voice calling out my name.

“You made bail,” he bellowed.

“Why? I don’t want to go. Just leave me here. I deserve it,” I retorted with a growl.

The officer looked shocked and had to shake his head after several moments.

“Five hundred thousand isn’t chump change. I don’t think the men waiting for you would appreciate your feelings on the matter,” he stated firmly.

I rolled my eyes, knowing who was there. Fucking homo. I dragged my sore body off the cot, knowing I had to piss. That prompted me to realize I still had the dried urine on my pants. I shrugged at the thought.

Then, I thought of her. The rip. The fall from grace. The assumptions.

I followed the officer out into the waiting area where Ethan was standing with his arms crossed and his head determinedly fixated down at the white and cream squares of linoleum.

“You?” I gasped. “Dex couldn’t be bothered?”

“Dex is doing damage control with the media and lawyers. We had to get statements out to put a hold on the tour. Believe me, he’s running on coffee and adrenaline. I’m only sorry it took us so long to get you out. We had to wait for someone
important
until this morning. Stupid fucking town,” Ethan muttered, looking sympathetic and I wanted to fucking punch him in the throat so I could go back to my cell.

“Is she… Is?” I croaked out instead. I couldn’t look at him because Ethan, no matter how mysterious he was, did wear his expressions on his face.

“No. She’s alive. She underwent a few surgeries on the right side of her face. They’re not hopeful about the vision in her right eye and that most likely means she will suffer. Johnny, she’ll be partially blind. She can’t see anything. I’ve spent about five minutes with her and all she says through her drug induced haze is your name.” Ethan put his hand on my shoulder and I snapped back from him.


Don’t
you fucking touch me,” I snapped like a caged animal. I was long gone. Any progress I’d made to my character was wiped clean, painted black, and covered in thorns. Angry wasn’t the right word. Anger didn’t even touch my internal guilt, loss, and fucking downright stupidity. Here I am world, Mr. Johnny motherfucking Lennox - the world’s largest waste of space.

Ethan threw his hands on the back of his neck and growled.

“Johnny! We haven’t slept. You practically put that piece of shit into a coma! Your girlfriend is partially blind and will probably be disfigured for life. We’re doing everything to try and appease this. Show people that you were defending her but fuck, man! We can’t do a damn thing if you aren’t willing to fight this. Do you even want to fight this? I mean, do you want to go to jail for attempted manslaughter because it ain’t looking real good right now. Fuck –you want to go back to the jail cell!” Ethan’s voice was so loud; people stopped and stared like it was a daytime soap opera.

In a lower tone, hoping he would follow my lead out the door, I asked the question I couldn’t stomach. The flashes that caused my knees to literally give out were there – constantly there. The ripping and the collapse.

“How bad is she?” I croaked out. “Give it to me real.”

“She doesn’t look like herself. She has lots of bandages on most of the time but honestly, I was in there when they changed out her,” Ethan said, bug eyed and pointing to his face in a circular way. “It isn’t Emily.”

I hadn’t ever seen Ethan emotional once and I stopped counting the number of tears that fell from his eyes as he told me exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

He didn’t touch me but he held his hand out front of me, telling me to stop walking.

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