The Jagged Heart (4 page)

Caedem
whimpered as Phoenix's hot breath and then his tongue invaded his
ear, whispering everything he wanted to do to him. Phoenix wanted
to taste every square inch of Caedem's body, and he started with
his neck, licking the soft, short hair at the base of Caedem's
skull, and trailing his tongue down the side of his neck, where the
bluish vein throbbed.

He kissed his
closed eyelids and rolled on top of him, pulling off his own
T=shirt so the warm skin of their chests made contact, and he felt
Caedem groan as he ground his hips into him, feeling the hardness
of his huge cock rubbing against his stomach.

He yearned to
reach for Caedem's throbbing shaft straightaway, but he wanted to
make this last, make it something they would both remember.

He worked down
Caedem's chest, lingering at his nipples, which he sucked until
they became hard, and stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of
his forearms, running his fingertips over the scar tissue that
marred Caedem's perfection, evidence of the damage done by the
needle and then the razor blade. A fierce protectiveness overcame
him and he wanted to wrap the older guy in his arms for ever, stop
anything else bad happening to him.

"You're mine
now, baby," he whispered, raising his face from Caedem's hard abs,
and the smile that greeted him in Caedem's eyes was enough to break
his heart.

His own groin
on fire, he slowly unbuttoned Caedem's jeans and slid them down
over his hips. It was the first uncut cock he had seen up close,
and its newness excited him. It throbbed as he gently closed his
palm around it, and he felt a shudder of desire run through Caedem
as he drew back his foreskin and rubbed around the tip with his
thumb.

He lowered his
face to his crotch and sucked greedily, rubbing and spreading
Caedem's hard thighs. His dick felt like it was going to burst
right through his jeans. He wanted to feel him spasm underneath
him, see his face as he came, hear him cry out his name.

At first, he
resisted when Caedem turned around underneath him, reaching for him
to sixty-nine him. But Caedem was so insistent, his eyes so full of
hunger, that Phoenix succumbed and he turned on his side, allowing
Caedem to unzip him, and then closing his eyes and counting slowly
to ten as he felt his warm hand close over his dick, aware that he
was in danger of coming the minute Caedem touched him.

He felt smooth
hands stroking his hips and the first touch of Caedem's tongue on
him, making him melt inside.

And then Caedem
sprang away from him with a wounded yelp, leaving Phoenix reaching
for him in confusion.

"What is it,
Cae? What'd I do?"

But Caedem was
sitting there crying, his shoulders shaking, as he lightly touched
his fingers to the tattoo on Phoenix's hip that Phoenix could only
see if he strained right around to look, and which he had near as
damnit forgotten about.

And then Caedem
guided Phoenix's hand to the same place on his own hip, and when
Phoenix saw what was there, he felt a lump in the back of his
throat, and all he could do was hold Caedem until his sobs
subsided.

"Fuck Taylor,"
he growled. "It's like he's determined to keep us apart."

Now Caedem had
drawn his attention to it, the outline of a jagged heart inked onto
his hipbone lurked there like some kind of a malign warning. Taylor
had branded them both with half of a heart - the left half. And
both Caedem and Phoenix knew that the matching part of the heart -
the right half, whose jagged edge fit perfectly with the left - was
somewhere else, indelibly marked on Taylor, a reminder that their
hearts belonged to him, whether they liked it or not.

"I'm so sorry,"
whispered Caedem. "It's you I want. Not him. It was just a shock,
that's all."

Phoenix sighed
and pulled him close. But Caedem broke his hold and refused to meet
his eye.

"I'm sorry. I
need to think. I'll be back later."

And then the
door was open and he was gone, leaving Phoenix alone in the
beautiful house, lonelier than he had ever been in his life.

Phoenix picked
up Caedem's acoustic guitar and began to pick out the opening
chords to one of the first Mudride songs he'd learned, its
melancholy notes suddenly taking on new significance now he knew so
much more about the guy who'd written them.

He laid his
forehead on the smooth wood of the guitar and sighed. He'd thought
he'd been in love with Taylor, but it was nothing compared with the
intensity of his feelings for this guy whom he'd only just met. And
there was nothing he could do to help him unless he could rid them
both of the ghost of Taylor.

He didn't know
where Caedem had gone, but when he left the house, he could see
that one of the surfboards had disappeared from the lean-to, so he
walked in the direction of the crashing waves, and eventually he
came to the longest, wildest beach he had ever seen, and in the
distance he could see a black figure riding the waves.

He sat there,
the only person on the beach, watching Caedem find some kind of
peace out there until he dragged his exhausted body from the waves
and threw himself down beside Phoenix.

"Sorry, man. He
just never loses the ability to... you know."

Phoenix took
Caedem's hand in his.

"I know. But I
also know that I want to give this a chance. Not just the thing
with the band. That's up to you. But this - us."

"It's what I
want, too. Sorry I'm such a wreck. Dylan asked me to look after
you, and it's kinda been the other way round so far."

Phoenix traced
the tracks on Caedem's arms.

"I hate him for
doing this to you, but we should thank him for bringing us
together, I guess."

And Caedem's
kiss was so sweet and so full of promise that Phoenix told himself
that he could wait, he didn't care how long, for everything to be
right.

He sat with his
head on Caedem's shoulder.

"You know, I
never saw the ocean for the first time until I was twenty?"

Caedem laughed
incredulously.

"Unbelievable,
man. I'll teach you to surf. Once this tour's over, we got all the
time in the world."

And Phoenix's
heart leapt at the thought that Caedem saw him here in three or
four months' time, saw them making some kind of future
together.

"The tour's
going to be over before it's started unless we get going with what
I'm supposed to be here for," sighed Phoenix. "I'll try and keep my
hands off you for a while, though it's gonna be difficult, sleeping
in the same bed and all."

And Caedem
smiled his sad smile and held their hands up together.

"Look, if
that's not a sign that we're made for each other, I don't know what
is."

Phoenix looked
at their hands, spread against each other, held up to the setting
sun. They were identical, each finger and thumb exactly the same
length, their hands spanning exactly the same width.

"No wonder I
play your songs so well," he said, marveling. "And we'd better get
back to the house so you can start learning mine."

*****

When Phoenix
woke the next morning, curled up in Caedem's arms, with the roar of
the ocean in his ears, he smiled to himself and lay perfectly
still, not wanting to break the perfection of the moment.

Sex could wait
- if it had to. It was killing him, being so close to Caedem and
not being able to do anything about it, but he knew there was too
much at stake.

He was slowly
getting used to Caedem's strict lifestyle of yoga, vegan food and
surfing and, much as he secretly craved a burger or a steak, he was
starting to see the point of it.

As Caedem
stirred, he kissed his eyelids and then slid slowly out of his arms
to make the coffee, and smiled as Caedem reached for his guitar
more or less as soon as he woke, the same as Phoenix always
did.

It took only a
day before Caedem was playing his songs exactly the way Phoenix had
written them and - he had to admit - almost better than he played
them himself.

"How're you
going to explain to Taylor that you can play them?" he worried. "He
can't know about us. Not yet. Not until the tour's over and you've
walked away from him for the last time."

But Caedem just
put his lips to his forehead and held him.

"Taylor doesn't
know anything about playing guitar," he murmured. "Did he question
it when you turned up for audition and played my stuff?"

Phoenix thought
about it.

"No," he said
finally. And then, anxiously, "When do you think Dylan will
call?"

As if he'd
willed it to happen, Caedem's cellphone rang on the table.

Phoenix
listened as Caedem went "uh" and "yes" and "OK" and then replaced
the phone.

"This
afternoon, at Sam's," he said thoughtfully. "He says Taylor doesn't
know. He's organized the meeting on neutral territory, with Fay
there as well, in case one of us freaks out."

Phoenix was
glad Fay was going to be there. They'd had their differences, and
he knew he was a manager's worst nightmare, walking out mid-tour
the way he had done, but she was one of the only people who could
handle Taylor when he was in a fury.

"You nervous,
baby?" he asked Caedem.

"Yeah, course I
am. This morning I woke up and I felt like using again. If you
hadn't been there, I could be in the city right now, slumped in a
bathroom stall somewhere with a needle in my arm."

Caedem's
honesty shocked him, and more than anything, he knew he wanted to
be around for ever, to protect him and stop bad stuff happening to
him.

"Then don't do
it," he urged. "Don't go this afternoon. I understand what you said
about the money and all, but we don't need money. Dylan and Zed
will be OK. Let them look after themselves."

But Caedem sat
there thinking until he finally turned to Phoenix, passion burning
in his eyes.

"No, it's
something I've got to do for me. Even if Taylor tells me to get the
hell out and he doesn't need me in the band, at least I've faced
him. Until then, I can't get him out of my system, and there'll
always be something keeping you and me apart.

"We've got to
move forward with our lives. Phoenix, I want to be with you, and
before I can do that, I need to be in the same space as Taylor and
know that it's properly over between us, that he doesn't matter to
me any more."

Every fiber of
Phoenix's being wanted to scream out: "And what if it's not over?
What if he snaps his fingers and you come running?"

But he remained
silent, his arms wrapped around Caedem's shoulders, so strong but
suddenly so fragile.

Dylan and Fay
would be there, he reasoned, and they wouldn't let anything bad
happen.

****

The hours
passed more slowly than Phoenix could have thought possible.

Dylan had seen
the worry on his face when he swung by to pick Caedem up.

"Don't worry.
No one's going to mention you, and at the first sign of Taylor
pulling one of his moves, I'll get him out of there."

And Phoenix
wanted to say that he was freaked out about everything: not just
Caedem, but the band being together, playing his songs without him
being there, and what the hell was he going to do with the rest of
his life, but instead, he smiled and returned Dylan's hug before
pulling Caedem to him with a long, slow kiss that hinted at what he
had every intention of doing to him later.

The afternoon
was the longest of his life. He thought about walking to the beach
and sitting there for a while, watching the waves break, but he
wanted to be there when Caedem got back. As the hours passed, he
bit his nails to the quick, imagining Taylor pulling every trick in
the book to put Caedem under his spell again. He felt sick at the
thought of them together, and every minute felt like an hour.

To distract
himself, he sat down with Caedem's acoustic guitar, which was
rapidly becoming his instrument of choice, and - to his amazement -
the music began flowing out of him and he realized, in wonder, that
maybe he did have a future in music after all, just not in Mudride.
He gradually became engrossed to the point that he didn't hear the
bike outside.

And then Caedem
was in through the door, eyes shining, pulling him to his feet and
winding his arms around him and saying, "I'm home, baby. Sorry it
took so long."

Phoenix looked
into the depths of his eyes for an honest answer about why he was
so late, and what had taken him so long, and saw the shadows had
disappeared, and all that was there in Caedem's eyes was love and
desire.

"What happened
back there?" he asked huskily, almost afraid to hear the truth.

Caedem laughed
incredulously.

"Everything
Dylan said would happen. Taylor was so gutted about the band
break-up that he was grateful - no, pathetically grateful - that a
solution was being handed to him so neatly on a plate. He was
businesslike, that's all. I don't know what I was so worried about.
Fay's going to sort out all the paperwork. We're going to do press
and rehearsals next week, and then they're going to reschedule the
tour dates for a fortnight starting from now."