Deep Rocked (3 page)

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Authors: Clara Bayard

BOOK: Deep Rocked
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“Dex,” I said, panting as I pulled back from him. “We’re on a train. In public.”

He cupped my chin in one hand and slid close again. “Who gives a fuck?”

The answer to that question was apparently, “not me,” because after a few minutes the entire world could’ve passed through that train car and I wouldn’t have stopped. Dex’s mouth on mine was heaven. Sultry, dangerous, heaven.

And when his hands slid down my back and under my butt, I sighed and buried my head in his neck. He lifted me onto his lap and I gasped, scrambling in a confused effort to snuggle in closer and get away.

“Don’t. I’m too heavy.”

“Shut up. You feel perfect on me. I just wish we were naked.”

I closed my eyes and gripped his broad shoulders with shaking hands. But any worries I had about my weight or size disappeared under his touch. Dex caressed my ass and hips slowly and rhythmically, like my body was an instrument he loved to play. Under his talented fingers my bottom-heavy shape felt ripe and womanly. Lush and sensual.

Adjusting my position on his lap, I couldn’t help but notice how aroused he was. It excited me to know I was responsible for that.

I was prepared to spend the entire rest of the trip there, entwined with him, and, except for a brief embarrassing encounter with a fan who recognized him somehow, and a disapproving older gentleman, that’s exactly what I did.

Three hours flew by, and before I knew it we’d arrived in Bristol, and the rest of the world began to exist again. Disappointed, we left the train holding hands, both of our lips red and swollen from kissing, faces flushed with desire, and clothes and hair slightly mussed. Ordinarily I would have been mortified, but the heady sensation of Dex’s lips on mine had left me in a haze where nothing could bring me down. For the moment at least.

Chapter Three

Outside the train station Dex hailed a cab while I called Ryan to check in. We piled into a car and headed straight to the hospital without even discussing it. I knew he’d be likely to chicken out if we made any other stops and I think we both wanted to get it over with. It was confusing to be so happy that we’d been honest with each other and avoided any further pointless distance, but at the same time I was sad for him and knew seeing his father would be difficult.

When we arrived, everything moved very quickly. I took our hastily packed overnight bags and followed Dex up to the Intensive Care ward. A woman who introduced herself as his aunt, Karen, greeted us. She looked exhausted and wrung-out. Directing us to a small waiting room, she explained that there hadn’t been any changes, which was actually good news. Dex’s father, Allen, had been moved to the new ward because several of his organs had ceased functioning. His whole body was shutting down. But every hour he remained in the same condition was a blessing. She asked if Dex wanted to talk to his father’s doctor, but he refused.

“I just want to get in there. Get this over with.”

“Sweetheart,” she replied, “don’t be that way. He’s your father. Your blood.”

“Karen, please don’t lecture me right now. I came. I’ll go see him. Don’t ask anything else of me.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Go on, then. Your friend will have to stay out here with me. Immediate family only.”

Dex’s eyes went wild for a moment, but then he let go of my hand and turned to go. His head hung low, and his normal loose, sexy stride was tight and short, almost awkward. Once he was gone I shifted my attention back to Karen.

“So, you work with Dexter?”

“Yes. I just started recently. This tour is my first assignment with the band.”

“Ah, yes. That must be very interesting.”

I nodded. “Look, I know you must be tired. Don’t feel like you have to entertain me. I won’t think you’re rude.”

She smiled slightly, the expression changing her pale, drawn face into something a lot more appealing, and I took a moment to really look at her. She didn’t seem to have any physical resemblance with Dex, except for her long, thick dark hair. Barely taller than me, she was of an average build and wearing casual slacks and a light sweater. Standing there, she twisted a wedding ring around her finger over and over.

“Thank you, dear. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“It’s all right. I’m Becca.”

“Well, Becca, it’s wonderful of you to accompany him here. Honestly, none of us – the family – thought he would actually come. We just called because it’s the right thing to do.”

“And that’s why he’s here. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

She nodded. “Well, let’s sit down, shall we? I expect he’ll be a while.”

“Okay.” I sank down onto a soft chair across from her and looked around. There were a few other groups of people in the room, but none of them seemed connected to Dex’s family. “You mentioned the rest of the family. Are they here?”

“Not just now. We’ve been visiting in shifts since yesterday. And having to come up with some outlandish stories, let me tell you. They’d have never allowed us in if I told them we were the family of his late wife. But we’re all he has, you understand.”

“I do understand. Dex told me a bit about the situation.”

She sighed and sat back in her seat. “Allen isn’t a perfect man. And I don’t blame Dexter for hating him a bit. But he loves his boy. And he loved his mother, too. My sister is long gone, but having Allen in our lives made it a little better. We helped him and he did the same for us.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Exactly so.” She eyed me thoughtfully. “You’re not just a friend and co-worker, are you?”

I blushed and shrugged. “I’m-uh, that’s complicated too.”

With a slight smile she leaned forward. “I see. And may I say, I’m glad. He’s a lovely boy, but prone to excess, like his father. And spending all his time living it up with his musician friends isn’t good for him. They bring out the worst. I’ve seen the stories and articles.”

I felt strangely compelled to reassure her. “Well, many of those things are exaggerated. They want sales more than accuracy.”

“Perhaps. But you look like a girl with a good head on her shoulders. Like a real person, not one of those stick insect modelly types.”

“Thanks,” I said blandly.

“Don’t get me wrong, dear. You’re quite lovely. But in a regular way. Dexter’s life is full of phony, now. Something, or someone regular, normal, is good for him. Really good for him.”

“Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

“Of course, dear.” She patted me on the hand and then sat back again.

“Well,” I said, feeling suddenly restless. “I need to stretch my legs. Can I bring you anything? A beverage or a snack?” Even though I wasn’t really working, it felt natural by now to ask.

“Nothing for me, but if you want something there’s a canteen downstairs. Follow the signs, you can’t miss it.”

“Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I grabbed my purse and walked out, glancing over into the ward as I went, and what I saw through the stopped me in my tracks. Dex was standing next to a bed. The top of it was blocked by a curtain, but I could see him clearly.

Even without being able to see his father’s face, I could tell they were having a heated discussion. Dex kept swiping at his hair and then crossing his arms. His lips moved quickly and the expression on his face was grim. It was a good sign that his dad was well enough to argue with, but I was sad he hadn’t been able to have a positive experience.

Having forgotten all about walking around, I went back to the waiting room and stood by Karen.

“Get lost, dear?”

“No. I just…um…I was thinking I forgot to get a hotel for the night. I booked a flight, but no rooms.”

“Hotel? Don’t be silly. You two should stay at Allen’s flat. It’s just down the road. You can walk there in a few minutes. And it’s free. Everything’s in good working order there. Much better than some overpriced hotel.”

“I…I guess that would be fine.” And cheaper, I didn’t add. For the moment this side trip was going on my credit card. I was sure Dex would pay me back, but hadn’t wanted to bring it up yet. And I wouldn’t have minded paying, but all the last minute arrangements were rather pricey. The train tickets alone were close to two hundred and fifty dollars, if I did the conversion correctly.

“I insist,” Karen continued. “In fact, why don’t you head over there now. Open the place up and drop your luggage. Then come back to wait, or I’ll send Dexter over. You both could use some rest I imagine.”

She wasn’t even my aunt, but her voice carried such sweetness and authority that I didn’t dare argue. “Okay, good idea. And it’ll give you and Dex some time to talk.”

“Yes. Some of the others should be swinging by soon. They’ll love to see him.”

“Of course. I know he doesn’t get down here often.”

“Almost never. We mainly hear about him from gossip websites and the few family members he does spend time with.”

She said that last like he was engaged in evildoing with them. But, I supposed, wild partying might seem that way to someone unaccustomed to the lifestyle Dex led. And I was sure she knew, as I did, that a lot of his partying was to hide from exactly this situation. The stresses and pain of his childhood. The things he couldn’t grow out of. The secret aches we all have and deal with differently.

“All right. Well, I will head out. Tell Dex to call me when he’s done here?”

Karen nodded. “Certainly. Here is the key, and I’ll just write down the address and directions for you. Is this your first time in our fair city?”

“Yes.”

“Well don’t worry. It’s easy, especially when you only have to go round the corner.”

*

What greeted me when I made my way to Allen’s apartment was incredible. The building itself was nothing noteworthy. Older, but with recent upgrades, it was suitable for living, but certainly not stylish. And the apartment itself was furnished much like my own, with a combination of thrift-store finds and cheap put-it-together-yourself cheap stuff.

But what was unique and grand, was the artwork. The whole place was a shrine to Dex. Posters of him with the rest of Dream Defiled were framed in the living room. Blown-up covers of their two albums were hung under lights in the hallway. And covering a corner of the dining area, there were piles and piles of magazines, recorded DVDS and all sorts of other memorabilia. There was even a box of photographs of Dex with other bands from years ago. It was almost obsessive, but touching. Whatever pain and distance existed between father and son, it was invisible here. Allen lived surrounded by his son’s every success. Dex’s sly smile and flashing eyes staring down from every wall.

I was still wandering around, poking through piles when someone knocked on the door. I opened it and found Dex there. He was pale, his hair a wild snarl.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head and brushed past me, shoulders slumped. “Please tell me you found the liquor cabinet in here.”

“No. I was looking at…” I shut the door and gestured at the walls. “All of this.”

Dex barely glanced up. “Well, shit.”

Another look at him prodded me into action. “Why don’t you sit down. I’ll find you something to drink.”

“Thanks.” He plopped down on the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a pile of CDs.

I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets but only managed to come up with two dusty bottles of red wine. It was better than nothing and I needed a little something too, so I grabbed two juice glasses and was looking for an opener when Dex came up behind me.

“You know you don’t have to serve me, right? Ryan made you come with me, but you’re not working now.”

I turned around and smiled at him. “I know that, but thanks for saying it. I…I don’t know what to do to help you through this, so I fetch. It’s kind of my thing.”

“I get it. And I’ll take it.”

“Good.” I found a corkscrew, opened the bottle and poured two large servings. I handed one over and kept the other. Raising my glass, I asked, “What should we drink to?”

“To getting through this day.”

“Fair enough.” We clinked glasses and both took long drinks. Once the wine began to warm my belly, I felt ready to speak. “So, did you know about all this stuff he had of yours?”

Dex gulped down more wine and shrugged. “No. But I’m not surprised.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m sure it made him feel great. He could show it off, act like a good father. Make up for being so rubbish my whole life. But it’s bullshit, like everything else.”

“Dex, maybe he’s just proud of you.”

“I don’t care. He’s a right bastard, always has been, always will be. Even on his fucking deathbed he has to get his little digs in. Try to grind me down to nothing.”

My heart ached. “Honey, I’m sorry. I wish it had gone better.”

“Like I said, I don’t care.” He downed the rest of his wine and reached for the bottle.

“You do care. And you don’t have to pretend otherwise. Not here. Not with me.”

He sighed and released the bottle. His eyes slid up to my face and locked on mine. One corner of his mouth curled and he leaned towards me. “You just called me ‘honey’”.

I grinned. “Don’t change the subject,
Dex
.”

“I’m not. I was just making an observation.” He picked up the bottle of wine, took a swig and stepped closer, bumping my hip with his. “If you want all the miserable details I’m going to need to finish this bottle and start on another.”

I rolled my eyes and hid a smile by turning to grab the other bottle. Dex headed back into the living room and I followed. He ended up back on the sofa and I climbed up next to him.

“All right. You’ve got all the wine, now. Tell me what happened.”

His expression was flat, but I could see tension in his shoulders and arms, muscles bunched tightly as he held the bottle. “It wasn’t the heartwarming scene you probably imagined.”

“Hey. I am not some wide-eyed idiot. You know that. I’m very aware that illness doesn’t suddenly make all the problems between families disappear. Nor does it turn the patient into a saint.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m going after you for no reason. I guess, somewhere inside me, I was hoping it
would
be like that.”

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