Stricken Resolve (23 page)

We were in Florida two nights ago. When I was
leaving the building, The Wall was right on my tail. But the crazy
fool who attempted—and I do mean attempted, to grope me and didn’t
make it very far. He left with a broken hand and probably a few
cracked ribs. All from a big, one, two. The Wall grabbed this man’s
hand as he attempted to touch me, which crushed his bones. I never
knew another man could crush someone’s bones by squeezing them like
that. But apparently it’s possible. I saw it go from normal to
malformed in less than a three seconds. It was so gross I almost
vomited. Then he punched the dude in the ribs, and I could tell he
didn’t put his weight behind it. Leaving the man to walk away
doubled over and whining like a pussy. Not that I could blame him.
I’d probably need to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

So after that ordeal I’ve been hangin’ with
my homey. Sweet Jesus, maybe I shouldn’t be drinking. I sound like
an idiot.

Anyhow, The Wall, also known as Bruce, is a
new bestie. He’s thirty, from Michigan originally. Not too far from
Indiana, where I grew up. He’s got a girlfriend named Susie who he
wants to marry. They’ve been together for six years. I asked him
why he hadn’t popped the question yet. Apparently he didn’t think
she
was ready. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. I think
it’s code for, I’m not ready, so I don’t think she should be
either. But, hey, what do I know? I’m an ex-fiancé to the hottest
man on the planet. Who I haven’t heard from since he left me in the
hospital, and every night I dream about him and every day in the
shower I flick my bic or use B.O.B as I picture his face and his
hands ravishing my body. It’s a sick obsession and it’s just gotten
worse this past week. Ever since I heard Johnathan hooking up with
somebody in his bedroom. I wasn’t about to go and bother him. So I
went to the other bus to give him his space. That’s where Dylan was
anyhow. Spending time with the band. But those noises reminded me
of what I am seriously lacking and the whore woke up and has been
whining for attention more often than not.

This past week, I’ve also realized that
Deacon would make an amazing dad. He’s really good with kids,
especially Dylan. Who Dylan now calls Daddy D. I swear, I don’t
think many of us have normal names any more. It’s all nicknames.
Short Stack, Mama Bear, Em, D, Daddy D, Jay and the list goes on
and on.

So right now, I’m standing outside and it’s
cold. But we are just about to head into the backside of this bar
for an after party. The concert tonight was great. I had a blast.
And tonight is the first and only night I am going to go out and
party. Cammy gave me the shove out the door. Even though I
protested like a hundred times. She’s been to two of the parties,
when I went back to the bus to take care of all the already
sleeping children. So tonight’s my night. In DC, baby!

During the show, I may or may not have stolen
Deacon’s flask of vodka and sipped on it while I stood stage side
with The Wall and Stacy. It’s a secret and I’m not telling, and you
shouldn’t either. So… Shhhhh….

Any-who, Stacy and I are back to being as
cool as cucumbers in a room full of horny bitches. Okay, now I know
that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Oh well, who gives a shit?
I’m feelin’ won-der-fuckin-full.

“Hey Sugar, you comin’?” The Wall, my big
beefy hunk of a bodyguard asks, holding open the big metal door to
the club. Apparently the boys already went inside. Where has my
head been? Weren’t they just standing here?

Ooopps, oh well.

I shrug.

“Yup. This sugar is comin’ and comin’ and
oooo baby… I really wanna be comin.’ Where’s Papa Bear when I need
him?” I sputter out between almost numb lips, seeing two of The
Wall in my vision. I blink twice. Nope, just one. He’s just
that
fuckin huge.

Jesus, how much did I drink already? So much
for my good old Irish roots keeping me from being a drunken skunk
by the time I even get into the bar. Can you say… light weight?

“Well, Sugar, you better mosey that sexy ass
of yours this a-way, or you will be locked out,” he smiles and
chuckles at me as I stumble rather stupidly on these damn heels
that keep sinking into the godforsaken rocks. Why do they even put
rocks behind or anywhere around a club? Don’t they get that women’s
shoes, that make them feel sexy, don’t do well in gravel or grass.
It doesn’t take a flippin’ rocket scientist to get that logic. I
mean,
hello
(Insert eye roll) A, plus, B, equals, get your
head out of your ass and think for once.

Stepping into the club, leaving that stupid
gravel behind. The Wall, nicely grabs hold of my shoulder to
support and to direct me into the main hub of the club. Awe, look,
now I’m rhyming.

Holy shit balls. This is beautiful. Look at
all those lights. My eyes flutter over the room, taking in all the
bright, vibrant colors. The floor is a matte gray. The walls a
leafy green. Lots of disco balls and other weird colored lights are
dancing around the entire room. The bar is a really fucking big
tiki hut. Like, totally narley dude. It’s a Hawaiian themed night
club.

Shot girls are clad short grass skirts,
bright bikini tops and lei’s around their necks. The men at the bar
are… hells to the yes. They are all, and I do mean
all
of
them. Are men. Shirtless men. Men with big muscles and tan skin.
Samoan men. And instantly my heart aches. They look so much like my
Papa. My teddy bear James. Why did Johnathan or whoever picked this
club out not think about this first? Dammit. Damn them!

The Wall basically parts the Red Sea of the
crowd as we move across the room. Nobody stands in his way. And we
go to take a seat on a tall, six chaired table, where Stacy, and oh
my god— Claire!

“Claire!” I screech and she turns around,
beautiful as ever. Long brown hair, blue eyes, sexy lips. Fuck
she’s hot and I’m horny. Not a good combination.

“Emily!” She squeals and flies off her
barstool throwing her arms around my neck for a huge hug. I almost
lose my balance but The Wall places his hand on my lower back to
keep me from tipping over. He’s a really good bodyguard.

“I’ve missed you,” she excitedly cries in my
ear, kissing my cheek over and over, igniting my core in hotness,
over and over. Smelling all sorts of delicious and her heavy
breasts pressed against mine, I think I might just lose it right
here. She’s so beautiful! And well, I’m drunk, horny, bisexual,
heartbroken—and did I mention horny?

“I missed you too.” I blink a few times to
reel in whatever is going on with me. I suddenly feel weird. Not
the good kind either. The kind that tells me I’m in a place that
I’m being followed or some weirdness like that. What is my
deal?

Pulling back from her hug, both of us still
smiling ear-to-ear, we sit down at the table. The Wall next to me,
Claire to the other side and Stacy across, texting on his phone. Go
figure.

“Can I get you something to drink?” A shot
girl, with short brown hair, asks, staring right at The Wall. I
know he thinks people gawk because he looks scary. But most women
stare because he’s so fucking hot. Like model hot. Stacy, James,
Johnathan, Deacon or Keith hot. Holy hell is there even a single
man I know that isn’t drop-dead, fuck-me gorgeous? Nope!

Claire orders, Stacy mumbles something about
a beer, The Wall politely declines, and in return she flashes him a
big smile. She wants to fuck him!

“And you?” She asks me, pen and order pad
ready.

“I’ll take six shots…,”

“Six?” Stacy chimes in, wide-eyed. Well isn’t
it nice of him to join the group and stay out of texting land with
no doubt his hot lover. That he almost cheated on. The bastard.

A sexy, extra yummy, Samoan bartender comes
around the side of the bar and taps the shot girl on the shoulder.
They exchange a few words, both of them stealing glances at me.

What the hell?

He leaves and she turns her attention back to
me.

“I have been informed ma’am that you would
like six shots of tequila, with lemon and salt, and two fuzzy
navels, doubled up on the snapps,” she rattles off and my eyes get
enormous. Who in the world knows what I drink? I’ve never drank
with Johnathan. I was pregnant before I had a chance to. Now I’m
really getting the heebeejeebeez.

“Yes, that’s what I want. But who told you my
older? I mean, order?” I question her, fumbling over my words and
she gives me an over exaggerated shrug of the shoulders, and, an, I
dunno, dumbstruck look.

Okay, that didn’t help.

Returning with our drinks, after Claire and I
spent more time catching up, I do celebratory clinks with the
group. And my eyes dart across the room at Deacon, picking his prey
for the evening. Big boobs- check, fat ass- check, so drunk he has
to hold her upright- double check. Ding, ding, ding, looks like
we’ve found us a winner folks. And as I watch him help her
oh-so-graciously grab her belongings, he catches me staring at him
and blows me a kiss. Which I catch with over exaggeration. Fanning
myself like he just made me hot, and acting all starry eyed with
happiness. He laughs and shakes his head. Making his exit, to go
bang the slut.

Go get’em, tiger!

Leaning into Claire, I sip my fuzzy
navel.

“So how’d you know I’d be here?” I ask,
completely forgetting I haven’t asked her that already.

“A little birdy told me.” She smiles but
gives nothing else away. A little birdy? What little birdy?
Hum…..

“Can you be more specific?” I prod, getting
closer and her eyes light up, I know she feels the spark. It’s
there. It’s always there between us. But I’m not giving in. Not to
anyone. No way. No how. Horny is one thing. But cheating on your
heart is another. I’m not willing to ruin my memories, by tainting
them with the next sexual conquests. Even if I can’t keep my dirty
thoughts from bubbling up. Those are thoughts, not actions. I
am
human for Christ sake.

“It was a man. Who informed me you were
lonely and might need some company.” She explains, slowly, not
rushing her words. Her eyes locked directly on my lips and I lean
back to break her of her temptation. I know she’s got a girlfriend.
She doesn’t need to cheat. Even with a one-sided kiss.

I look to Stacy and he holds his hands up in
mock defense. “It wasn’t me.”

Claire tilts so her lips are but an inch from
my ear and she whispers, as her eyes stare at the corner of the
room. “It’s a man who loves you and doesn’t want to see you filled
with sorrow. A man who made a mistake and broke you.”

Oh my god! My throat tightens and my eyes
well up. It can’t be! Can it?

I turn my face so it’s gazing where she is. I
see him! He’s here! My James! My Papa Bear! He’s here!

The tears shed, my emotions throwing caution
to the wind and I stare at him in the corner of the darkness. His
body dressed in all black. I can’t see his face. But I know it’s
him. I can almost smell his scent from across the room. The taste
of his minty mouth on mine. I touch my lips, as if he’s just left
them. I miss him. I miss him so much. As the tears flow freely, I
keep my eyes on him. Never moving. And I take in his figure, my
dark lurking ex-lover, the man who owns every part of me. Even the
cells in my body. Every ounce of my blood. It’s his. All of his. He
will forever own this body. For I could never be with another.

Stacy hands me a Kleenex and I dry my eyes,
wanting to get a better view. And when I look back up, he’s gone.
Gone! Where did he go?

I scan the room, frantically searching for
him. Nothing. He’s gone. I jump out of my chair and toss my useless
heels on the floor. Wearing only my jeans and a red bustier, I run.
I run like my life depended on it. In and out of the throng of the
crowd. I bob and weave. Searching for him. A smell, a look, a
figure, and when I make it to the corner he was just standing in, I
can smell him. His cedar scent lingering. It was him. He was here.
What does that mean? Does he still want me? Is he saying his
forever goodbye? Why didn’t he talk to me? What do I do?

I fall to the ground into a pile of sadness,
my face in my hands, the tears keep coming. And I know after
tonight they won’t stop. A part of me wants to believe this was
just his way of confirming I am his and he is mine. But the other
part is telling me I’m wrong. It was a goodbye. My final send off.
And here I thought it hurt when he left the first time. The
festering old wounds are breaking apart in my chest. The cracks
crumbling, leaving an even bigger gaping hole. Why does this have
to hurt so much? Why does this have to happen to me? Why can’t I be
loved and cared for? I just miss him and love him so much. I don’t
know what I’ll ever do without him in my life.

I can feel Bruce’s towering body standing
over me, as my mind swirls and I suddenly become overly tired.
Without me having to say a word, The Wall, leans down and picks me
up like I’m lighter than a feather. Carrying me like a baby in his
arms. The same way my Bear used to. He takes me over to say my
goodbyes. I kiss Claire on the cheek and promise her we will keep
in touch more frequently. She really is an amazing woman. Stacy
stays with her and starts to talk business. More advertising stuff,
per usual. Taking me outside and carrying me to the black town car,
The Wall puts me in the back and shuts me in, leaving me to mope in
the back as he drives us the five miles through the busy streets of
DC to the tour buses. That are now in an extra secure location. We
didn’t want what happened last time to happen again.

***

Droopily, I stagger into the bus. Half of me
is tired and stung out on emotions and the other half of me is
drunk. And I really need somebody to talk to. I need Johnathan and
I know he wasn’t at the bar tonight. He said he wanted to ‘
hang
with our twins
.’ His words, not mine.