Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1) (22 page)

Benny stretched, rolling to his side on the couch, hearing voices in the kitchen.
Fuck
. He needed more sleep. Sounded like Ruby had company, and since he was still staying with them, camping out on their couch, she couldn’t entertain in the living room, so she made do. Never complaining, that wasn’t her way, she simply made things work. Shushed laughter told him she was watching out for him. He stretched again, then rolled to his back, shoving one hand behind his head, as with his eyes closed, he considered his night.

Best ever
, was the first thought to pop into his head. Finding the music, finding his way through to being able to bring that out in himself, felt like he was flying high over everything. A better high than he’d ever had before, and he made a note to call Doc and tell her he got it. How tied up music and sex was with the booze and drugs for him. Harddrive had been the first person to see he needed something other than what he was getting, but over time, even the music had gotten warped somehow.

Not anymore
, he vowed, then grinned. Being part of a productive, creative, sober band would be a change. A huge one, one he knew wouldn’t be easy, but it was a challenge he welcomed. Bear was a big part of what happened last night, and he couldn’t believe the change in course there. In the weeks since he’d been thoroughly put in his place by the man, Benny had come to realize some hard truths about himself. The work he’d been doing wasn’t for anyone this time. Wasn’t for Slate, or Ruby, or even Lucia.
All for me
.

He sighed.
Luce
. These past weeks of seeing her, knowing she was out of reach, never to be his, never anything more than a friend had been harder than anything he’d ever done. Knowing it was through his own behavior and actions he’d lost her? That tore his heart out of his chest, every time he woke and knew he wouldn’t be seeing her that day. Or the next. Or ever, if Bear had his way.

Then to see her last night, looking at him with such hurt in her eyes, but still showing up to support him. For all she knew the distance between them was entirely Benny pulling away, needing space. Intentionally being busy. Having other plans. The million and one excuses he had come up with in response to her calls and texts, her inbox messages, and dozens of questions passed through Ruby.
I love her.
This affirmation was as rock solid now as he had been when he told Bear. A statement he knew would only grow stronger every day. No matter what, even if he never got to tell her. Then last night happened.

Her in his arms last night? Amazing.

She walked to the edge of the stage, and he laid his guitar down, jumping off the raised platform. As he had so many times in the past, he reached for her hand, but she slipped through and into his arms. He held her, then, as if they were in a private room, as if there weren’t a hundred bikers and their women watching. Blocking out the words, the shouts of laughter, the rumbling questions. Holding his Luce close, wrapping her up in everything he had to give her, face buried in her hair, hers pressed tightly to his neck. Arms secure around his waist, she held on, and when the men on the stage behind him began playing a slow song, he swayed with her, breathing her in. Beginning to believe this was happening. She was real.

When the music ended, he led her to a quiet corner of the bar, sitting beside her on the bench seat of a booth. “Benny,” she began to speak, then faltered, halting when he lifted a hand and curled his fingers into her hair, tugging her mouth closer to him for a kiss, the soft brushing against her lips torture when it ended so quickly. Then, in a rush she said, “We need to talk.” Now his heart was seizing in his chest, but for an entirely different reason. Terrified. Those words didn’t say “we’re building something here,” they didn’t say “I cannot wait to be with you.”

She couldn’t have missed his silence, but she forged through, making certain all was good with him as he found his fears weren’t based on anything. Mouth open, he stalled, not knowing what to say, but she made it all right, as he knew she would.

“With Bear’s stuff, and whatever it was that crawled up your butt, we haven’t had much time to talk. Everything happened when we were barely getting used to each other.” She took a long, shaky breath. “But, I want you to know I understand you need to work on your sobriety.” Chin tipped down, she hid from him, and he reached out to lift her face, needing to see. There were tears in her beautiful eyes, but she bravely moved forward in the resolute way he’d come to expect from her. “Just don’t shut me out again, okay? I need to know you're all right.” Gaze locked on his, she pinned him in place. “You…matter so much to me, Benny.” There was the tiniest hitch to her voice when she continued, “I need you to know that what you said? Up there on the stage? It meant everything.”

“It’s all true, you know that, right?” He heard the pleading in his voice, willing her to believe him.

“I know, Benny. For a long time now, it’s been you and me.” That tremble was again present, and he leaned into her, resting his forehead against hers. “And what you gave me up there? You gotta know it comes back to you tenfold. A hundredfold. So much, Benny. Promise.”

DeeDee shook him from his thoughts when she walked into the living room, holding Allen, pausing in the doorway with one hand on her hip. “You’re finally up.” With a grin, she padded barefoot towards him, and Ruby appeared in the doorway behind her, Dani in her arms. Eyes to DeeDee, he stared up as she stopped in front of him. “Got a favor to ask you, kiddo.”

***

Standing in the Zamboni tunnel just off the rink, Benny shook his arms out for the thousandth time. Bouncing from foot to foot, he tried to shake the nerves wrecking his composure. Wireless microphone clenched in one fist, his fingers were hurting, the flesh bloodless and white from clamping so tightly around the plastic. The sound of the crowd rose in the arena, swelling into the space, chatter and conversations lifting to the rafters as people filtered in, finding their seats.
Hockey
. He shook his head.

The Tridents were in the playoffs, but if they didn’t win tonight, it would be the last game of the year for the team.
Sudden death
, he thought and had an unexpected memory of ceiling tiles split by bright lights, flashing overhead as the surface he was on racketed down an endless hallway. He shook it off. Jase’s team had to win to keep going, and a loss would mean immediate elimination.

DeeDee had organized this, him being here, giving him a chance to perform without the pressure of performance. One song, one minute and fifty seconds by his watch. No music, pure voice; he would be singing the national anthem a cappella. He’d joked with Slate earlier about taking book on the length, telling him he’d throw short or long if he got a sign.
Like I’ll ever make it big enough to worry about that
. Chin lifted, he hummed a scale, stretching his neck to one side and then the other, trying and failing to block out the sounds around him.

Feet planted wide, face raised, eyes closed, he let himself grow still, calming his thoughts, and just breathed. Simply…breathed, soaking in the knowledge he was about to sing again. Sing for people who didn’t know him, and who, for the most part, could do without his performance entirely because it would be lodged midway between the team taking to the ice and when the referee would drop the first puck of the game. A necessary annoyance for some, a patriotic celebration for others, but not entertainment. That would be the guys with sticks. Realizing he wasn’t the draw, an even larger measure of the stress and nerves dropped away.

And then it happened. As it so often did, trying to take him unawares.

The craving flooded in around the edges of his mind, swamping him, taking him under. He was drowning, carried off in a tide of hunger for something. Anything. Cramps curled in his belly, gut and muscles revolting, a riot in his body for a demand that must be met. His chest seized, lungs refusing to work. No air. Nothing. Pure need.

Heat hit his skin. A small hand to his arm captured his attention, and he tipped his head down to see Mercedes looking up, her hair blue and purple this week. “Bibi.” All she had to do was say his name, and he took a breath. Another one. Her belief anchoring him.

An arm circled his waist, and he looked the other direction, seeing those beautiful brown eyes shining up at him with love. He stared, breathing, wondering if she knew the miracle she performed every time she looked at him like that. He had everything he needed, right here.
Everything
.

Mercedes’ hand flexed on his arm, and he felt her push him, hearing the introduction coming from the announcer, “…Jones, lead singer for the chart-busting band, Occupy Yourself.”

Lucia smiled, and he dipped his head, brushed his lips across hers and took a deep breath, giving himself a final moment of peace before he stepped out onto the rug the arena crew had dragged onto the ice.
Wouldn’t do for the loudmouth guy to fall on his ass
. “Please rise, and gentlemen, remove your hats…”

Microphone lifted to his lips, Benny swept his gaze across the people crowded into the rows of seats stretching far overhead. As he opened his mouth and took a breath, there were only a few faces turned his way, most of their eyes were fixed on the flag hanging from the rafters.
Perfect
. Strong and proud, his voice flowed out, mastering the notes, rising and falling, until two minutes and three seconds later his lips closed, cutting off the final word. Applause, ringing so loudly his chest shook with it. An unfamiliar noise, the slapping of wood on ice and he looked over to see Jase and the Tridents looking at him, yelling and whistling, tapping their hockey sticks against the boards and ice, congratulating him.

Two fingers to his brow, he saluted Jase, gaining a chin tip in return, then he was off the rug and back into the tunnel. Stepping to one side, he, Lucia, and Mercedes waited so the arena workers could quickly clear the ice, close the doors, and ensure everything was ready for the game to begin. “Well done, Bibi.” He flashed Mercedes a grin intended as thanks for her quiet praise. Lucia received thanks of a different kind, his mouth working against hers, her giving back to him at the same time, arm tight around his waist, squeezing.

“Let’s go watch the game,” he said, tugging on Lucia’s hand. The club had rented a clubhouse suite for this game, and he knew Slate would be there. He thought Bear would likely be there, too, and while that thought made him nervous for reasons far different from the singing he had just done, he was determined to show everyone he could change. Had changed. His arm tightened around Lucia, pulling her into his side. Still totally a selfish bastard, he was fixing himself so he’d be better, and so he could have what he wanted.

Walking into the suite, he stopped dead in his tracks, Luce, still connected to him, jolting as she was jerked to a halt. His throat closed, bile boiling up into the back of his mouth as he swallowed convulsively.
Shit
. Nearly every legal-aged person in the room had a drink in their hand. A year ago, he would have never noticed the scent, but now, after so long fighting the pull of alcohol, he could nearly taste the yeasty flavor of the many beers scattered around the room. A presence on his other side, hand to his arm, then her soft voice, “Bibi, this is no different from playing in the bar. People who don’t have a problem with alcohol drink. You cannot.” She got closer, crowding him and he stepped out of the flow of traffic, half-turning away from the room, using both Lucia and Mercedes to block him from view. “If this is too much, we can walk to the rooftop patio, get some air. It’s only a three-minute stroll.” Mercedes proved she’d again done her homework, figured out what the triggers might be and then looked for ways to help him manage his responses.
What would I do without her?

“I’m good,” he lied, the tightness in his throat making speaking painful. Shaking his head, he said, “It…caught me off-guard. I wasn’t thinking about there being booze.” She rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed. “Yeah, I know, right? Wasn’t thinking. I expect it in the bar, do my pep talk thing. Get ready. There, it’s not a surprise. Here—”

“Benny.” His name called from across the room, and he looked up to see both Slate and Mason bearing down on him, and was grateful for their empty hands in a way which nearly pissed him off.
They shouldn’t have to worry about me
. “Hey, shrimp.” Slate thumped his shoulder, and he acknowledged both men with a chin lift, standing in place, glancing at a TV screen over their shoulders. Trying to look anywhere except at the booze in the room. Avoiding their empty hands pointing out his failures.
Fuck
.

It looked like the game was already underway, and he wondered how much Jase would get to play. Benny listened to his brother and Mason for a few minutes, accepting their praise of the anthem as graciously as he could, still feeling as if his skin was crawling, that brief flash of success wiped away by his failure to cope.

DeeDee stood alone near the open front of the suite, arms wrapped around herself, hands cupping opposite elbows. Luce was busy chatting with one of the women and Mercedes had made herself scarce, but he knew she was likely lurking close by, waiting for him to ask for a beer, so she could jump out like a sober ninja, knocking the drink from his clutching hand. He snorted at his melodramatic flair, made what he hoped was a graceful exit, and moved to stand next to DeeDee, stretching his arms out to lean against the railing.