Some Kind of Hell (15 page)

“Logan, I’m fucking up our night,” I whispered.

“No, you’re not,” he said. “You’re sick, Annie. It happens. Come on, this time you’re seriously getting into bed. No questions.”

I nodded and let Logan help me up.

I fell into my bed and Logan brought me the washcloth, a bucket in case I needed to do it again, and he sat on the bed with me for a few minutes, touching me. I never got sick in front of someone before. Not even Jared. I always hid it. But with Logan... he kind of imposed, but it was good. Like really good.

He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

“Get some sleep, I won’t go anywhere.”

I closed my eyes and thanked him.

I heard the sound of Logan leaving the room. I heard the sound of him going into the fridge and getting a beer. The gentle clank of bottles. The twist of the cap with its quick psst sound. The sound of my trashcan lid smacking a few times.

Then I heard nothing and somewhere within that nothing I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes again, Logan was on the bed with me. Sitting, touching my shoulder, his fingers gently working to my back.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I licked my lips and let my body settle for a few seconds.

Nothing hurt.

I had no urge to vomit. No stomach pains. I was just tired. Like dead tired. Like I hadn’t sleep in weeks.

“I feel better,” I said. “Just tired.”

“Get some sleep,” Logan said.

“What time is it?”

“Almost time for Logan to get another six pack,” he said and smiled.

I smiled back and closed my eyes, wanting to fall asleep with that moment. Picturing him smiling, hearing him make a lame joke.

I then felt Logan’s breath on me. On my cheek, then my neck. Finally I felt the touch of his lips to my ear.

“Annie,” he whispered, “I love you too...”

~16~

I fucked her, okay? I mean, is that how you want me to say it? Fuck, Annie, you like just can’t take the hint or a clue... or reality. I mean, look at us right now. You’re acting so surprised... but you knew... come on, you knew...

I opened my eyes and for the first time since having that same damn dream of Jared breaking my heart, I was angry. I wasn’t sweating. I wasn’t crying. I didn’t wake up feeling worthless. I woke up and was pissed.

Really pissed.

I sat up and looked around.

Logan was nowhere to be found.

I began to panic wondering if he drove home.

No, he wouldn’t do that.

He had at least six beers... he wouldn’t be that stupid...

Rockstars did do dumb things though, right?

I’d kill him.

I’d kill him for real if he did that.

I rushed from my bed and through the apartment, ready to raise hell. Mostly because of the dream I had. Even when I saw Logan on the couch, his left fingertips touching the floor and his right hand over his eyes. His left foot on the floor, wearing his shoes. He looked uncomfortable, but at least he stayed.

The anger was still flowing through me and I stepped to the couch to honestly pick a fight with Logan. I made a fist and swung at his shoe on the couch.

“Take your shoes off,” I tried to yell but it didn’t come out that way.

It came out weak.

At the
off
, I gasped for air as my stomach did a flip again.

I turned and ran for the bathroom, making it with plenty time to spare. Plenty of time to be on my hands and knees, hanging over the damn toilet again, waiting. There was still nothing to offer in my stomach and when I was done I crawled back into bed and started to cry.

I hated puking.

I hated being sick.

Logan came to check on me and told me that he was going to go get some practicing done and to call if I needed anything. I blew him off like a bitch, but I knew he’d chalk it up to me being sick.

Whatever.

That night I had work and finally felt better. I still had an unsettled feeling in my stomach and it lasted for three more days until it started to go away.

Things had become so crazy that Maggie and I talked through sticky notes. Logan and I talked mostly through texts and saw each other in little blocks of time here and there. It didn’t leave much for anything other than sex and DownCrash. We’d fool around, then talk about DownCrash. He’d hold me and I’d hear about his dreams.

Maggie and I were finally able to come to a practice and it was mind blowing. Not that DownCrash ever treated their band as something little or for fun. However, it was obvious the practice, the coming studio time, and the potential of a record really kicked things into high gear. There was enough energy in the practice garage alone to bring anyone to life.

And if that couldn’t get better, DownCrash had a show the next night.

We’d be there, cheering them on, watching this new life and energy be shared with the crowd.

After practice, Logan came up to me and hugged me, squeezing tight and kissing me.

“Feeling better finally?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

It was a little white lie. My stomach still had an achy touch to it. I mentioned it to Maggie and she said that something like that had been going around her work. People would get sick for like two weeks at a time with a nasty stomach bug. As long as I wasn’t puking it didn’t bother me. I already told myself I’d give it few days, through the weekend, and if I didn’t feel better, I’d see a doctor.

“Good,” Logan said. “Let’s get wild tonight. And tomorrow night. And the next night...”

“I can do tonight and tomorrow night,” I said. “But the night after that I have work.”

“Quit that job and work with us,” Logan said. There wasn’t an ounce of joking in his voice or eyes. “Jason wants you to write about the band.”

“I will,” I said. “I mean, I’m not quitting my other job. It’s fast, easy money.”

“I’ll have that soon too,” Logan said. “Big advance on the first album... big tour... sales...”

“Calm down,” I said. I touched between Logan’s legs and smiled. “You’re getting hard over it.”

“No, that’s because I’m staring at you.”

“So what do we do about it?”

Logan scooped me up and carried me from the garage to his car. I looked at the backseat and noticed more clothes were piled in the back. I wondered if Logan even had an apartment. Or if seeing his old friend’s brother was really that painful. No matter what, Logan carried the scar of what happened with him. That much I knew for sure.

“Did you hear me?” Logan asked.

“What? No.”

“I said, do you mind if we crash at your place tonight?”

“Not at all,” I said.

“Good. Oh, and before I forget, let’s keep the puking to a minimum.”

Logan laughed and got into the car. I didn’t even have a chance to call him an asshole.

It was hours later when we were finally cuddled next to each other. I wore panties and nothing else. Logan wore his boxers. To me even that was too much clothing. I had my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. A heart was a heart, I get that, but listening to Logan’s just made me feel good. Knowing he was alive made me feel more alive.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow night,” he admitted.

“Nervous? Have you ever been nervous?”

“Every time I get on stage,” Logan said. “You never know what could go wrong or right, you know? But tomorrow night... it feels like the beginning of the end of me.”

“The end of what?” I asked.

“Of being a small band. You know what I mean? I’ve been waiting for a long time for this to happen to us. And I really think we can be something important. But to no longer be DownCrash, the popular college town band...”

“You’ll still be that,” I said. “You’ll always be that. The only thing that’s going to change is that you’ll be playing bigger stages, bigger crowds, and make a ton of money.”

I felt Logan’s heart speed up. “Yeah. All that stuff is going to be fun. Especially the money. I need my own place. Bad.”

“You’ll get it,” I said. “Stay here as much as you need. I kind of like it.”

“Because you love me so much.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Right.”

We laughed and I kissed Logan’s chest. I peacefully fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until morning. My stomach pains were all but gone by morning, but I was so damn tired it was ridiculous. Keeping up with Logan, DownCrash, and work was wearing me out.

Logan was already awake and pacing the apartment, on the phone with Tatum first, Tripp second, and then Jason. It was going to be one of those days. Thankfully, Maggie came home a little before noon. It was nice to see her and be able to talk to someone. In between his last two phone calls, Logan hugged me, kissed me, and his hand touched my bare stomach first and then slowly worked its way up my shirt. He cupped my breast over my bra and groaned.

“I can’t stay,” he whispered.

“You did this,” I said and laughed.

“But they’re so good,” he said. “And your body. Your eyes. Your... everything...”

“I’ll be waiting for you tonight,” I said.

“I’ll be there,” Logan said.

“I hope so. DownCrash without you is... yuck.”

“Thanks. I love you for saying that.”

We kissed again, a little calmer this time and Logan left.

For the rest of the day Maggie and I took turns looking at the clock. We were ready two hours early, a total record for us since we usually got to places right on time or late. But when it came to DownCrash and the guys, we couldn’t miss a thing. When we were still an hour early, we both couldn’t take it and decided just to leave. Just to get there and hang around.

This time we were allowed backstage, which was great because by the time we got inside, I felt like I was going to pee myself. I swear, I never had to pee so bad in my entire life. I got to see Logan for all of a minute before Jason came into their makeshift dressing room, took a seat on an amp, and tilted his head for Maggie and I to leave. We had no objections. This was, after all, their careers ahead of them.

I went out front to the stage area while Maggie lingered behind. I stood at the gate and watched a small gathering of the first people allowed into the club. It struck me then just how powerful music was. I never doubted music and never once came close to doubting DownCrash and what they could do or what they would do, but to stand there, alone with my thoughts, looking out to the empty floor that would soon be full, it was something else. The silence of the club was eerily and quickly grew as the crowd poured in for the show. It made me nervous and I wasn’t even in the band. My only job was to enjoy the show, like everyone else who paid to get in.

In a matter of minutes the place was jammed.

The energy came along with the chants and cheers, the pushes of the crowd, people randomly cheering, and when Maggie joined me, I was broken out in a sweat. That’s how intense it was to stand there alone. I tried to imagine being part of DownCrash. Being in a band... playing...

“This is awesome,” Maggie yelled to me.

I nodded.

There were no words for it.

It really was just that.

Awesome.

The lights went out a short while later and three spotlights hit the stage. The crowd cheered and cheered, waiting for the boys of DownCrash.

Then they came.

One by one, starting with Logan.

He stood in the spotlight, masking his smile with a pissed off look. The shy bassist was anything but shy with me. I knew how his hands worked. How his tongue tasted. How his body felt against mine.

Tatum was next, followed by Tripp.

This time, they didn’t say a word to the crowd.

They just played.

And they played hard. And fast.

The show had the power of a stadium show. The crowd was so loud and filled with excitement. When they switched into their acoustic set, they played two songs and then Logan looked at me and smiled.

“We’re going to play a new one,” Tripp said.

I felt my heart start to jump, knowing it was the song Logan wrote.

I touched Maggie’s wrist and squeezed.

“This is that song!” she yelled into my ear.

“I know!” I cried back.

“We’re going to be recording our demo soon,” Tripp said. “So you have to tell us... if we should include this song...”

I opened my mouth to scream, wanting to join the cheering crowd, but nothing came out. My stomach turned and my mouth shut. I put my hand to my mouth and knew I had about ten seconds to get to a toilet...
or else
.

I turned and bumped into Maggie and then pushed her. She fell back and I saw the door to the backstage area. As I crashed into it I thought for a second it was locked. I panicked, picturing myself vomiting right there, right on the floor in the middle of a DownCrash show. On my second try, the door finally opened and I spilled into the back area. I ran straight down the hall, my eyes looking left to right. My stomach gurgled again. There was literally no time to spare. The last door on the left was the bathroom. When I turned on the light I prayed for nothing more than a clean bathroom.

It was clean.

And I made it to the toilet... I didn’t get a chance to fall to my knees though so I just stood there with my hands against the wall, head down, aiming and crying as I threw up for the millionth time.

The second I was done I stood up and felt... fine.

I felt normal.

I let out a long sigh and could faintly hear the sound of DownCrash playing.

I was missing the song.

My favorite song.

The song Logan wrote.

“Annie...”

I spun around and let out a whimper as Maggie came into the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am now. What the fuck is this?”

“Are you sick?”

“I don’t feel sick. I just... I just had to throw up...”

Maggie looked at me and of all the damn things to say to me, right then, at such a moment, with DownCrash playing, my emotions spinning, my stomach settling, Maggie touched my shoulders and said, “I hope you’re not pregnant.”

~17~

I passed the aisle three times. On the fourth pass, I walked down the aisle but went right by everything on the shelves. How fun to put the adult medicine next to the children’s medicine, which was next to the condoms and other sex products right below the top two shelves.