Stricken Resolve (22 page)

I round the back corner, my eyes set on the
door with the big fancy star. And…

Umph! Oh shit! Fuck!

I plow into the front of a monster. His hands
shoot out and grab both my upper arms as I teeter back on my three
inch black heels, wearing a pair of worn and tattered jeans (they
came that way), and a fitted Stricken shirt, about to topple
over.

“Whoa there, sugar,” he coarsely grumbles,
his hot massive hands searing into my flesh. Keeping me
upright.

Son of a bitch! I know I should have flicked
my bic before I left the bus today. But I had to feed the babies,
pump, get ready, read Dylan a story and sit in on a bad meeting.
Now I’m here. I’m doing my job, babies being cared for by Cammy,
and this place is an absolute zoo.

Tugging my arms out of his panty dampening
grasp, I look up.

Oh my god!!!!

“Uh…Thanks...,” I stutter, brushing my hands
over my arms where his hands were.

Smooth Em, sound even more ridiculous why
don’t cha?

He chuckles, one of those
take-me-to-bed-right-now chuckles and I blush. He’s really hot!
Broken heart be dammed. This man is still fine. And I can admire
anything from a long, far, safe distance. Which I’m not doing right
now. Fuck!

Looking up again, I’m surprised my eyes
aren’t bugging out of my head. He’s at least six foot ten and three
hundred plus pounds of man brick. Bald head and the bluest eyes
I’ve ever seen. Every inch of skin I can see is cloaked in tattoos
minus his face and part of his neck. But I can’t stop thinking
about how massive he is.

Jesus Christ, how does he fit into a car?

Another chuckle permeates the air between us
and he produces a smoldering grin.

“I drive a truck.”

Oh, dammit, I just said that last part aloud.
And my face gets even hotter. I’m sure my face now matches the
bright red color of my hair. I’m so embarrassed.

“Uh…. Sorry… you’re just… you know...” I
shrug, unable to compose the right words. Who am I kidding? I can’t
compose a single coherent thought. I’m such a retard.

“Big, mean and ugly,” he states, and his
voice recedes and a pitiful frown fills that cute part of his face
that used to have that delicious smoldering smirk.

I can’t believe he really thinks that low of
himself.

“Nope, wasn’t going to say that. I was going
to say...”

“Hey baby… Emily….Hey!” I get cut off and
turn around to see Johnathan jogging towards me. Oh, that’s right I
was going to go talk to him when I hit ‘The Wall.'

Stopping next to me he puts out his fist.
“What up Bruce,” he greets, bumping fist with him. With
The
Wall
.

“What up, Jay man?”

Jay man? Seriously? Lame!

“I see you’ve met your new
job
.”

Johnathan looks down at me from his six-five
stance.

Me? I’m the
new job
?

Oh hell no! I fell in love and I’m still
madly in love with my ex-fiancé. Who’s nineteen years older than I
am and my old bodyguard. And now this Wall is going to be guarding
me? I don’t think so, buddy. Not when I’m the size of his right
shoe. All five foot tiny two of me. And he looks like that.

“This lovely little thing is
thee
Short Stack?”

Oh please, not another buffoon calling me
that ridiculous name. Gee whiz.

“Yep, the one and thee only.” Johnathan pats
my head.

Asshole! He actually patted my head. I’m not
freakin’ five, ya know!

I seethe, giving him a vicious look,
clenching my jaw and punch him in the side. Not much good it does
me. These stupid rockers are solid.

“Chill.” He stares at me and I see he means
it.

Okay, fine. I take in a deep breath to calm
my anger.

“I hired Bruce, an ol’ buddy of mine, to be
your new bodyguard,” Johnathan explains, standing next to me in his
distressed jeans, black boots and a black t-shirt that says ‘Real
Men Make Twins’ in big white lettering. Can you say ‘dork?’

“And…. Why?” I motion my hand for him to get
on with his lame explanation.

Hey, can ya blame me for not being the least
bit excited? Physically attracted to a new bodyguard isn’t exactly
my idea of a good first impression. Not when I’m still pining after
my old one.

You do know that history can sometimes repeat
itself… right?

And as God is my witness, I don’t want to be
tempted in anyway shape or form to feed the sloppy, barking,
insatiable whore. She’s always awake and ready to be filled, licked
or sucked. Preferably a combination of the three. Her, not me.
Let’s keep that distinction crystal clear.

Ah—shit. See, just thinking about the
deed
has me tingly and flustered. Arg!!

“Emily, earth to Emily, come in Emily.”
Johnathan snaps his fingers in front of my face, making me
jump.

Crap, I zoned out. Not again…

“Huh?” I ask, so he can retell me whatever it
is that I missed.

“I was explaining that Bruce here was hired
after you told me you were concerned about your bodyguard and how
he could perform if the time came for a
show down
.” He
speaks to me like I’m a moron. Slow and steady, pronouncing each
and every syllable and if he doesn’t fix this little macho man
thing he’s got going, I’m going to rip his cock off. That’ll teach
him.

But he is right; I guess I did say that,
about Davis.

“Oh…o-k.…th-an-k-s.” I shoot the same slow,
moronic regard back at him, while I look Bruce, ‘The Wall,’ up and
down a few times. My mind is still not registering the sheer size
of him. It seems like a man of his size and muscles goes against
the laws of nature.

“I’m pretty sure nobody could see me, let
alone hurt me, when he’s around.”

They both laugh at my level remark. I wasn’t
trying to be funny. I was being honest.

Scooting to the side a little, so others can
pass, we chat a few more minutes before
Jay Man
trots off to
give the band the info I was to impart from Stacy. Just before he
departs, he gives me a quick squeeze and a peck on the head. He’s a
sweetie…
sometimes
.

Now I’m stuck standing next to ‘The Wall.’
This is his officially nickname. And I must say he is the prettiest
wall I’ve ever laid eyes upon.

“You’re staring.” He smiles down at me,
flashing me some dazzling pearly whites.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’re used to it.
Being a wall and all.”

“Wall?” He sounds surprised.

“Yes, Bruce, you’re as big as one. Just
cuter,” I giggle and blush, and my compliment makes him turn fifty
shades of red.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Mmmm, I don’t….,”

I cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. Now,
since you’re my new guard, let’s go stand stage side and get down
with some funky tunes.” I turn and hear him laugh, a full on belly
rolling one.

Funky tunes, Emily? Did you seriously just
say that? I’m sure he thinks I’m the biggest doofus now. Oh who
gives a fuck what he thinks? Not me. Ok, maybe I do. Awe, shit, I
gotta get my head on straight.

Taking long strides, I get to the side stage
and find Stacy talking to some blonde woman. Talk about déjà vu. He
just better pray his heart and his cock is in the right place. I
for one, know that being on the road only heightens temptations.
Making them even sweeter than you can imagine. The forbidden
fruit—if you will.

“There you are!” I flip my messy pony, coming
up behind Stacy, my hand pinching his firm derriere.

“Hey babe.” He throws his arm over my
shoulder, pulling me in close, and placing a kiss on my temple.

Awe, I love Stacy!

“What cha up to?” I playfully bump my hip
into his, but my eyes are staring right at this leggy blonde
bimbo.

“Emily, I’d like you to meet Shelby. Shelby,
this is my best friend Emily. The hottest redhead in existence.” He
kisses me again and I turn to mush. I seriously have the bestest,
best friend.

“Pleasure,” she says, nodding slightly.

Apparently that was my greeting. Where does
he find these women?

“So Stacy, have you talked to Kyle? You
know—your gay lover?” I pronounce, really loud. And he turns white
as a sheet. Caught you, I knew it! You can’t sleep with women most
of your life and turn to a man and expect not to get the itch that
needs scratched. An itch I know Kyle would castrate Stacy for and
I’d be the one holding the knife. Or whatever they use for that
sort of thing. I’m no expert on the matter.

“You’re gay?” The floosy sounds surprised,
and combs her fake dyed hair with her cheaply manicured nails.

“I’m not gay. I’m bi,” he explains,
completely ignoring the fact that I’m standing right here, and I
know everything there is to know about him. Well now I do.

I fake a cough and clear my throat. “No,
sorry, Shelby, is it?” She nods. “He’s not sure what he is… not
anymore. But he’s one thing for sure. He’s not interested. He has a
wonderful boyfriend. So you can go find somebody else to try and
sleep with you, because it won’t be any the guys from
my
band. So back the fuck off,” I snap, shooing her off with my hands.
I’m not having any of her grossness around my band and when this
bitch leaves I will be reaming Stacy a good one.

A look of complete shock that somebody would
talk to her like this washes over her face. Anger flares in her
eyes and she steps forward like she’s contemplating if she wants to
confront me or not.

Bring it on, bitch!

“Walk away, like the lady said,” a huge voice
booms over the roaring of the crowd.

Yep, Bruce, The Wall. I should have
guessed.

Walking up next to me, he crosses his arms
over his chest and stares her down. He’s one scary dude.
Intimidating as hell. And her eyes well with tears, lip trembling
and she bolts right off the stage, without muttering a single
word.

Turning my body out from under Stacy’s arm I
stand in front of him and lay into him. Cussing, bitching, telling
him how stupid he is for possibly fucking shit up with Kyle. I
don’t hold back. Not one second. And just as I am about finished
the band takes the stage and Johnathan greets the crowd. Which
drives them wild.

Stacy has no come backs, no retorts or snotty
remarks. He just takes all I give him and now I’m standing right
beside him on the stage as Johnathan finishes his opening
speech.

“Well, as you all know, this was a last
minute tour. A tour for all of you fabulous fans to help up
celebrate the birth of our twins.” As the word twins leaves his
mouth a picture of them appears on the giant screen behind Deacon.
I have the most adorable babies!

“My twins, Eric and Jenna, who were birthed
by my best friend, the most wonderful woman in the world, Emily.”
Bright lights hit me side stage and I about go blind. I’m going to
kill him for this!

“Say hello, baby.” He smiles at me and I want
to stick my tongue out so badly. But I don’t. I just wave to the
audience who in turn, cheer.

“So are you ready to rock?” He yells to the
crowd, owning them. Making them love him. And they all scream and
that’s when the first song of the night kicks off. A new song I’ve
not heard before but it’s badass. Strangely enough it’s about me.
The goods parts. My fiery red hair, how he loves my face, he
couldn’t stand me being apart from him, even though he’s a
disgrace. It rocks, and I’m not mad he wrote a song about me. It’s
kind of flattering.

Three songs in and I’m full on dancing next
to a morose Stacy, and The Wall, who doesn’t do anything but what
his nickname might suggest. He’s blank, hard and planted in one
spot; like a wall.

The fourth song hits and I’m sweating. I come
to the realization this entire album is about love. Lost love,
vengeful love, sweet love, tortured love, and at the same time each
of the songs have bits and pieces of mine and Jonathan's
relationship in them. The cheating, the drugs, the bad dreams, the
pregnancy, even Colorado. It’s all here. The entire album is about
our weird relationship.

Six songs in and he’s turning the audience
into a puddle of emotional putty in his badass rocker hands.
Singing about how he loves me, hates me, wishes he could break me,
fills me, thrills me, and how he wishes he could kill me.

Thanks Johnathan. Real… great. Let your kids,
when they get older, hear a song about you wanting to murder their
mother. Dumbass. Even though I’m not enjoying that part, it's
still, like the rest, really great music. Deacon is going wild on
the drums, Keith and Price are making those strings their bitches.
I’m so proud of these guys. They are amazing.

At the end of the set. Johnathan is wringing
with sweat but I run to the stage anyhow and throw my arms around
his neck. He grabs me up, pulling me off the ground.

“Ah… realize I wrote all those songs about
you baby? Now you wanna shack up and marry me… huh?” He kisses my
cheek. Carrying me over to the side of the stage as I laugh, like a
giddy school girl.

“No, you big dork, and we already live
together. But those songs were awesome!” I admire with excitement,
causing him to blush. Johnathan actually blushes. Good god, I never
thought I’d see the big man blush.

“Well, I’m glad you did, baby.” Kissing my
cheek again, he lowers me to the ground and I’m drenched in
Stricken’s lead singer sweat. Oh well. I’m sure most of these fans
would pay to be dripping with Johnathan’s hot muskiness.

Chapter Fourteen

~Emily~

Concert Night- Washington DC

It’s DC party time, bay-be! We are halfway
through with the tour as of tonight. I am pumped up! And…. I’ve
been drinking. That might have a bit to do with it. After Vegas, we
hopped aboard the Stricken billboard bus and started our trek.
Falling into a routine. Me taking care of the babies during the
day, helping with the band stuff, Johnathan helping with the babies
when he can. Cammy, watching the babies when I’m at the concert and
then I come back afterward. Not attending the traditional drunken
after party. Davis has taken his place back, protecting Johnathan.
Not happily, I might add. However, me and The Wall, are now best
buds.