FascinatingRhythm (5 page)

He guessed she’d worked herself into exhaustion, working and
worrying. In his opinion too much. She should trust herself more. A huge
decision like the one she was about to make probably needed a lot of
concentration.

He couldn’t imagine changing his life that much. He lived
with change, reveled in it for the most part, but then it was for pleasure and
profit. Not his health.

“Will you come with me to Malmö?” he asked, striving for a
casual tone.

“Yes, I’ll come.”

He rejoiced. More time together.

Once he’d cleaned her pussy, although he wanted to linger,
he washed the rest of her just as thoroughly. Her breasts felt just as gorgeous
when they were soapy, but he regretted he couldn’t lick off the suds. He knew
edible soap existed—he’d have to look into getting some.

He used the washcloth to wipe himself down with efficiency
rather than anything else. After he’d shut off the water, he wrapped her in a
warm towel. She gave him a smile and a husky word of thanks.

Once they were dry, he unwrapped them both, dropped the wet
towels to the floor and swung her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and
laying her on the rumpled sheets.

He straightened and glanced around the room, remembering
that he hadn’t locked the door when they’d come in, too eager to get to the bed
and see her naked. As he crossed the room, he saw the abandoned cart with two
cold cups of coffee resting on it.

Recalling what had started this, the way she’d looked at the
sweets and then at him, obviously struck with the same idea as he was, he
picked up the desserts and stowed them away in the fridge. The raspberries
would look wonderful balanced on her nipples, inviting him to taste the sweet
juice, lap her up. The thought made his mouth water but he stopped only long
enough to chug down a glass of water because his lady was waiting for him in
bed.

Another time, they’d play. He promised himself that treat.

He fell asleep holding her close, listening to her gentle
snores and trying to memorize the way she snuggled in close to him. This time
he wouldn’t cut communication. He’d stay her good friend in everything.

And when the time came to part, he’d try to pretend he
didn’t want more than her friendship.

In the car on the brief journey to the venue at Malmö,
Sabina clutched Hunter’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Darkened windows showed
a horde of people outside the car, kept at a distance only by beefy security
guards. He turned his head to her. “Scary,” she mouthed.

He smiled. “You get used to it.” She saw his throat working
and realized he was speaking for real.

A tap on her leg told her that Emmelie, sitting on her other
side, was displeased. Sabina faced her. “You should not speak aloud,” Emmelie
signed. “It puts you at a disadvantage.”

Sabina released Hunter’s hand and answered in the same
method, difficult because she didn’t want to move away from him. “It doesn’t
when I speak with Hunter. You know I can speak verbally.” She felt more
comfortable using her hands like this, ignoring the muffled pandemonium going
on outside. “In your house I will respect your wishes.”

Emmelie smoothed her perfectly coiffed blonde hair then
signed again. “They will laugh.”

Sabina frowned. Had they laughed at Emmelie? Unlike her,
Emmelie had been born deaf, so her intonation would be awkward. She’d never
heard Emmelie articulate anything except sighs, sounds of exasperation and the
occasional laugh. Her laugh had a braying tone to it, but it occurred so
infrequently that most people were glad to hear it.

No sign of a laugh today. Emmelie had boarded the plane that
morning with what seemed to Sabina suspicious equanimity. She’d brought work
with her and spent a lot of time texting during the short flight to Malmö. At
the airport, she’d stepped into the car that took them to their hotel without
complaint.

Now, a few hours later, they were on their way to the
concert. The stadium held nearly twenty thousand, so the roads were filling up.
The band had stayed put after the sound check, but Hunter had come back to pick
them up.

Sabina decided to go with the flow and drank up the new
experience, her excitement steadily increasing as they approached the stadium.
The slow inching through the crowd in the car with darkened windows felt to her
like something out of a story, but Emmelie took it in stride, busy on her phone
once more, until she’d stopped to talk with her son.

“They will not laugh,” she signed now. “If they do, I’ll
turn my back.”

Hunter waved his hands before he signed. “They will not
laugh at her.” He moved his hands as strongly as he could in the confined
space. “I won’t let them.”

“You can’t stop them. You will not be here to do so.”

He dropped his hands, only to lift them again. “I don’t have
to be here. She has the courage to work through this.” He paused, his hands in
midair, not saying anything for a moment. “She must do as she wishes.”

Emmelie signed, more agitated than usual, emphasizing her
words by slapping her hands against each other. “If you have the operation,
that won’t make you his equal. It’s experimental. It will not work.”

When Hunter started to reply, Sabina knocked his hands aside
and signed for herself. “I haven’t made up my mind. Don’t try to make it up for
me.” That morning she’d received a definite offer. She could have the operation
if she wanted it. She had to tell them soon.

Emmelie hadn’t finished. Her face became more animated as
she spoke, and her hands moved fluently. “If you do, the deaf community can’t
welcome you. After next week, I will have no hearing people on my staff. I have
no choice.”

Hunter lifted his hands once more. “What do you mean, ‘after
next week’. What’s happening next week?”

The car stopped, but as someone opened the door on his
mother’s side, Hunter reached across and put his hand on her knee, stopping her
getting out. Their eyes, so similar in color and shape, met.

Emmelie sighed. “I’ll publish my manifesto for the new
political party. The Deaf Aware.”

Sabina disagreed with Emmelie’s stance, but as a prominent
deaf separatist, Hunter’s mother had to make the decision. She had no choice
unless she decided to moderate her stance. Already she had compromised her
position by employing Sabina with her residual hearing. “I would be a bridge
between the worlds for you if I have the operation.”

She’d done all the research, and now she planned to let it
lie in her mind until after the concert. Even though this was an experimental
procedure, people were lining up for it. Right now, thinking about it made her
feel sick. Going on as she was, continuing with a career that paid well and
gave her independence and a place in the world, or starting again, but with her
hearing. She bounced from one extreme to the other, undecided.

Emmelie dropped her bombshell right
on Hunter’s head. “You know I’m busy, and to invite me to something where sound
is important is unfair. I have no interest in music. I have never heard it, and
I will never do so.” She paused. She’d made all this clear more than once since
Hunter had asked her to come. She could see no reason to do something for her
son, to watch him do what he’d made such a success of doing. Not unless it held
something for her. Emmelie’s movements slowed down. “I’ll launch the party
tonight, at the press conference after the concert.”

So that was the reason for the constant texting. She was
getting everything in place.

Something else jolted into Sabina’s awareness. Emmelie had
planned this without her. Hadn’t asked for her help or hinted that she planned
to do anything more than watch her son conquer the land he was born in.

“You didn’t tell me,” she signed.

Emmelie stared at her. “No. You’re sleeping with my son. I
can’t trust you not to tell him,” she signed before she turned and left.

That put her in her place.

Outside, to be precise. Already, Emmelie was sidelining her.

Sabina shook off Hunter’s hand when he tried to help her out
of the car but she did alight on his side. Made to choose between Hunter and
his mother. Her life seemed full of unwelcome choices recently. Already weary
from so many sleepless nights, worrying about her decision, she had a moment of
weakness. She just wanted her decision over with, her life set on its new
course.

All she’d wanted was a respite tonight, a chance to enjoy
herself without fretting. Now she had mother and son at loggerheads, and if she
wasn’t careful, she’d become the bone between them. Dear God, should she just
hide her head under a pillow and hope they all went away?

Muffled sounds intruded on her consciousness and she looked
around to see people clustered behind a wire fence, waving pieces of paper,
their mouths open, presumably yelling. She couldn’t see what lay beyond the
people, they completely obscured the view.

When Emmelie had come around the car to join them by the
stage entrance, Sabina signed to both of them, speaking the words to emphasize
her position. “I will make my decision myself. Nothing will alter it.”

Hunter caught her hands once she’d finished and spoke. “I
don’t want to. I want you to make the decision yourself. You’re strong enough
to do this.”

She only spoke now, although Emmelie could lip-read well
enough to interpret her words. “Don’t you want me to have the operation?”

He shook his head. “Only if you think it’s right for you.”

Her family for, her employer against, and all of them
forgetting that she was making this decision that would affect
her
life
most. Except Hunter. She had no idea how she would earn a living after the
operation. She’d have to develop a new network of people who wouldn’t object to
a hearing person signing for them. Once she’d recovered, she’d have to work
somehow. No way on earth would she impose herself on her family, or Hunter.

She’d cope. She needed to stay close to Uppsala for a while
because of the aftercare and therapy, but she’d find something. Hunter remained
with her, waiting for her to enter the building, ignoring the fans. Emmelie
faced the crowd. They’d take photos and identify her.

How dared she use her son’s night of glory to steal the
publicity that should rightfully be his?

“How could you let her do this?” she asked him.

He half turned so his mother couldn’t see his words. “Wait
and see. There’s a man inside I can’t wait for her to meet.” He smiled, then
took Sabina’s hand and led her inside.

She blinked as she confronted one of the largest men she’d
ever seen. Not fat exactly, simply large. He towered over her and his generous
build gave him a presence nobody could ignore. He smiled down at her and said
something, but she wasn’t attuned to the accent or the way he spoke, and his
dark beard and mustache didn’t help.

Hunter moved forward enough for her to see him speak.
“Sabina, this is Chick Fontaine, Murder City Ravens’ manager. Chick, meet
Sabina Laugasdottir.”

Chick enveloped her hand in a large, warm embrace. “Pleased
to meet you.” She saw what he said that time. He opened his mouth more as he
spoke.

“Pleased to meet you too.”

He didn’t show any sign of her voice being unusual. She knew
it was, despite her efforts to keep it as normal as possible.

“I’ll remember to speak clearly and face you. Is that what
you need?”

Immediately she warmed to him. Chick was a bear of a man.
She suspected he could show the bear’s savage side too if crossed. But she had
no intention of provoking that. “Thank you, yes, at first. But I’ll get used to
your way of speaking.”

“I told the guys this afternoon,” Hunter said. “If you can’t
understand them, ask them to repeat what they’re saying.”

“Thank you.”

She stood aside while Hunter introduced his mother. Emmelie
signed and Hunter interpreted. This time she deigned to lip-read, but only
because Hunter showed signs of wanting to hurry her through. But she would
never speak.

Hunter glanced at his mother before he kissed Sabina, taking
his time. Despite her uneasiness, he coaxed her into responding, lifting her
hands to rest them on his powerful forearms. He held her tenderly, enclosing
her in his arms and making her feel completely safe. Even though she knew the
sensation was an illusion, she gave herself the minute’s respite in his arms.

He finished the kiss slowly and then touched his lips to her
forehead. “Chick will look after you now, show you to your places. I need to
finish a few things.”

“And get into the zone.”

A wry smile curved his lips. “That too.”

She lifted her face for another swift kiss but then stepped
back. “Go.”

He went, leaving her with Emmelie and Chick.

Chick showed them to the public area backstage, already laid
out with tables of refreshments and plates of sandwiches covered with plastic
wrap. “Help yourselves,” he said. He glanced at Emmelie and shrugged. “I’m
sorry, I can’t sign.”

“That’s okay,” Sabina said.

“We’re having the press conference here after the concert,”
Chick said. “It won’t take too long, I hope.”

Emmelie signed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Chick said.

Sabina slipped into her accustomed role. “She would like to
say something at the press conference.” That was all Emmelie told her to say,
and she couldn’t go against that wish. Not while she was doing her job. “Some
of her people will arrive soon. They have identification.”

Sabina could do nothing to stop Emmelie making her
announcement, other than lock her in a room somewhere, and she was seriously
considering doing just that. It would well and truly burn her bridges with
Emmelie though, and however Sabina deplored her methods, Emmelie Ostrander did
a lot of good for a lot of people. Awareness, charities and support all worked
ten times better than they had before she’d made her presence known.

Sabina accepted a soda and smiled at Chick’s warning not to
accept anything that didn’t come out of a bottle she’d opened or seen opened.
Chick shook his head at her levity when he told her, “Don’t do it. This place
will be heaving with press, staff and hangers-on later. Somebody might think it
funny to drop something in the drinks, especially if somebody closely connected
to the band gets it.”

Sabina’s laugh froze in her throat.

Chick checked his watch. “I’ll show you to your seats, and
then I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you to it. After the concert, stay where you
are and somebody from security will come get you.” He handed them plastic
wristbands, one each. Sabina’s stomach turned when she realized they were the
same as the ones put on people in hospital. It turned her mind straight back to
her dilemma, one she’d hoped to forget for a few hours.

So far she’d done a fuck-poor job of that.

Once they were in their seats at the front on the first tier
Sabina enjoyed the building excitement of the crowd. A massive crowd. She’d
rarely been in a crowd that large, only at a few sporting events. One of her
siblings enjoyed watching big athletics meets, and Sabina took her turn going
with her.

Emmelie spent the time signing to her. “You know my son will
leave Sweden without looking back, just as he did before?”

As if she were some pathetic, get-a-life weakling. “Yes, of
course I know.” Only polite to sign in return. “That’s not what this is about.”
Should she tell her this wasn’t the first time? Better not. While she wasn’t
exactly virgin stock when she’d slept with Hunter before, she’d been under
Emmelie’s protection. Besides, it might be good to save that piece of
information until she really needed to use it. She decided to behave casually.
“He’s a good-looking man, a rock star.” She spread her hands and then signed
again. “What other opportunity will I have to meet a man like that?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Emmelie slapped her hands together as
she signed, fury evident in her flashing eyes and tightened lips. “You’re as
good as anybody else.”

Back to that.
“I know.” Sabina broke eye contact to
look around, and then returned to Emmelie. “See all these people? They’ve come
to see Murder City Ravens. Everyone in the audience wants to spend time with
the band. That charisma they all have—you can almost touch it.” She paused.
Might as well carry on. “And how many will get the opportunity? It’s nothing to
do with me being deaf.”