Buried Notes (Brothers of Rock #4) (19 page)

“No,” Chris said. “Oh... damn,
Peter... no...”

“Did you sign the papers? Just tell
me.”

“Becky, listen to me. My band
manager, Peter. He was the only who knew anything. I was messing with him when
I left... he must have called your lawyer. He’s so worried that you’re going to
want money from me...”

“I have money now, right?” Becky
asked. “So you don’t need to worry. You don’t have to string me along.”

“No!” Chris cried out.

“Last chance, Chris,” Becky said.
“Did you sign the papers?”

Chris lowered his head. “It’s not
what...”

“Chris.”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” Becky whispered. “You signed
them. You signed the fucking divorce papers.”

Chris looked up, his face in shock
and panic.

Becky broke away and started to
walk. Part of her wanted Chris to follow. Part of her didn’t. But every ounce
of her was in pain.

(21)

Chris wasn’t sure what to do first.

Kill Peter or catch up with Becky.
What kind of ass was Peter? Granted, Chris did say he signed the papers, but
come on… He didn’t give Peter the damn papers. They were on a bed in a hotel
room. The hotel room Chris wanted to take Becky to. To show her. To explain to
her.

But one thing was for sure.

If he let her walk, she’d never
come back.

“Becky!” Chris yelled and started
to run.

To his surprise, Becky didn’t speed
up. She wanted to get away but she wasn’t trying very hard to do so. Chris
grabbed for her arm and she took it away.

“Just don’t,” Becky said.

“You don’t understand,” Chris said.
“I have... at my hotel...”

“Have what?” Becky asked.

She put on the brakes in a hurry.
Chris crashed into her, hard enough to send her forward. He hurried and wrapped
his arms around her to keep her from falling and to hold her again. Chris
squeezed but knew he couldn’t hold her against her will. He wouldn’t do that to
Becky, not physically or any other way.

When he opened his hands, Becky
didn’t move.

“You don’t know what it’s like,”
Becky said.

“What? What, Becky, what?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you really think I’d come all
this way to give you signed divorced papers and end it?”

Becky looked back at Chris. Her
eyes were filled with curiosity and honesty. A combination Chris would have
loved to see, just not under these circumstances.

“You’re some kind of sick
romantic,” Becky said. “You think by smooth talking, you make things right.
That’s what this is. Do I believe you’d leave me after coming here like this?
I’m starting to think yes. All you’ve done is want me to come to your hotel.
Why? So you could sit me down and explain? Like you did when we woke up married
in Las Vegas? You convinced me, Chris. You made me feel like I’d be the one
doing wrong and that I’d be the one hurt at the end of it all. And I guess I
am.”

“No,” Chris said. “That was
never...”

“You didn’t want your band in
trouble,” Becky said.

“I didn’t want you in trouble,”
Chris said.

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t want to lose you!” Chris
yelled. “I fell for you. The second you threw that drink at me. Nobody was ever
so bold. So confident. So beautiful. So sexy. Nobody ever made me miss a step
or lose my words like you.”

Becky bit her bottom lip and looked
ready to cry.

“Becky, I told Peter I signed the
papers and left him hanging on purpose. So he’d sleep on it, comfortably. Just
come with me, Becky. Come to my hotel. Let me show you the truth.”

“Just tell me the truth,” Becky
said. “Right here.”

“You have to see it,” Chris said.
“You can’t just give me that?”

Becky scoffed. Chris considered
what he’d just said and knew it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to throw out
there.

“You want me to be in a hurry? For
you? You have signed divorced papers and I’m supposed to hurry for something
you want? Try waiting for years, Chris. Try watching someone become rich and
famous. I went on dates and felt like a cheater. I kissed other men and knew
how weird it would be to explain to them I was
kind of
married.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris said. “I’m
sorry...”

“I believe you are,” Becky said.
“But I’m not like you when it comes to this, Chris. The papers are signed.
Good. Leave it at that.”

Becky took a step and Chris lost
all his words. Maybe even his mind for a second. He called for Becky one last
time. She turned. His heart jumped.

“I love you,” he said. “Just know
that I love you...”

Becky nodded and he hurried to
ramble off his hotel and room number. She started walking again and Chris
begged her until she was out of sight. The small streets of Plesent owned
Becky’s heart and there was nothing Chris could do about it.

When he got back to his car, he
thought about calling Peter. He felt like ruining Peter’s night. He couldn’t
remember a time he was so annoyed. The life he chose had given him so much, but
it was this part, the personal part mixing with business that angered him. He
knew Peter meant well, trying to protect the assets of Chris and Chasing Cross,
but there were things beyond an asset to lose in all this. Chris touched his
chest, feeling empty.

He drove back to his hotel, taking
Plesent extra slow, hoping to see Becky.

She was nowhere to be found.

He arrived at the hotel and found
his room empty.

Becky wasn’t there.

The divorce papers were on the bed.
Signed by Chris. The most poignant autograph of his life. The only other one
coming close being the record contract he signed that put Chasing Cross on the
scene.

He sat on the bed and looked
forward to the small gas fireplace in the room. He chose all of this for a
purpose. After starting a fire, Chris sat in a chair at the desk and stared out
the window. He wasn’t sure how far he could see or what he was actually looking
at. Part of him considered just heading north right then and catching up with
some of the guys, if they were around. As his eyes traveled to the small fridge,
he knew he could do damage there. If that wasn’t enough, the hotel served
drinks and had a vast wine menu. There was plenty available for Chris to drink.
And if he had to, he’d drop his name. His real name. He was the goddamn bassist
for Chasing Cross. If he wanted a bottle of whiskey, someone would bring it to
him.

Chris settled on wine and had the
full bottle delivered. It was sort of pathetic taking the bottle of wine and
one glass. He couldn’t even make eye contact with the person who brought him
the wine. He gave the person two hundred dollars and shut the door. The bottle
barely cost a dime over a hundred. At least someone would go home with a happy
story to tell.

Chris opened the bottle, poured a
glass, and crashed in front of the fire. The heat warmed his body and the wine
warmed his stomach. However, his heart was still ice cold and there wasn’t much
of anything that would fix that. Maybe the road. Maybe a show. Maybe the rest
of the tour.

Becky
would fix it.

Of course she would.

The more Chris thought about Becky
and everything that had happened, the more he realized he deserved it all. He
deserved her anger. Her confusion. Her pain. But he was right there, waiting
for her.

Wasn’t that good enough?

An hour later, his answer came with
a knock at the door.

**

Becky walked by the bakery four
times before making the decision that she wouldn’t go inside. Going inside
meant talking to Rachael and Deb. Telling them more than they needed to know -
or already knew - would only make matters worse. She had already called Rachael
and told her not to come find her, just to go back to the bakery, which Rachael
had done. Storming away from Chris had been bad enough, even though it sort of
felt good to do. It was like the climax of all her emotions finally having a
chance to come out. Good or bad, it didn’t matter, they were all out now.

Everything.

Becky walked to the corner and
stood there. She watched the locals wandering the streets, most of them in a
routine established by time and set by life. So many married, divorced,
widowed. Some holding hands as boyfriend and girlfriend, still feeling those
fresh butterfly feelings. Two kids raced by on bikes, followed by a third, a
girl on a pink bike, looking annoyed that the other two boys were going so
fast.

What did Chris exactly want?

The more Becky settled down from
being so angry, the more she asked herself the question. Would he really come
back to just hand her divorce papers and walk back out? It didn’t make sense,
unless Becky had been right before. Chris came to deliver some kind of speech
to make things seem right. No matter what, if the papers were signed, Becky was
going to be hurt. Everything about him bothered her but made her heart gush at
the same time.

Before Becky knew what she was
doing, she was at her car in the back parking lot of the bakery. She started
driving, arguing with herself.

It was simple, really.

If she was going to get hurt, then
get hurt. At least get hurt in front of Chris. Face to face. Let him see her
tears. Let him understand what his actions and words did. And then, maybe,
offer one last kiss and then leave. Done. Just like that. Becky told herself
this was the right way to do it because then she wouldn’t wonder. She wouldn’t
be left with any doubts or worries.

She knew the hotel Chris was
staying at because she attended a Christmas party there a few years back. In
one of their fancy ballrooms. She got to the hotel, rode the elevator to the
top floor, and walked the halls for a few minutes. Each time she went by
Chris’s room, she told herself she could’ve already been in there. She could’ve
been talking, getting everything over with.

Simple.

It wasn’t simple, at all.

Becky closed her eyes and knocked
at the door.

This was it.

The last... whatever.

Tears filled her eyes.

Chris opened the door.

(22)

When Chris saw Becky standing at
the door, he felt like he could cry too. The urge to grab her and pull her into
the room was hard to control.

“You came,” he said.

“To see what you had to say. So go
ahead, sell this to me.”

Becky was ice cold and afraid.

“At least come in,” Chris said. “I
need you in here with me.”

“Fine,” Becky said.

She walked into the room and Chris
walked slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Becky. When she stopped
walking, he reached for her hand and lightly held it.

“Please,” he said.

“Just get this over with.”

“Okay.”

Chris let Becky’s hand go and
walked to get the divorce papers. He came back and showed them to Becky. He saw
the way her expression when she saw his signature on them.

“Listen to me,” Chris said.

Becky nodded, her eyes still on the
signature.

“I love you, Becky,” Chris said.
“I’ve spent years trying to create something to fill a void in myself. The
road. The tours. The fans. Man, they’re amazing. They all do it, together. The
shows are loud. The days are busy. There’ve been times when we’d be touring for
so long that we’d miss birthdays. Holidays. Everything. Because we were slaves
to the road. To our fans. To the music. The worst feeling in the world is when
it’s all over. Playing that last show. Coming home after a tour. I can remember
the lonely feeling of walking in my place in California and shaking from the
stillness and silence of the house. There were times when I wanted to scream,
cry, or drink. There were times when I did all three.

“Meeting you, being with you,
marrying you... that wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry what I said back then. I’m
sorry I made it seem like you were wrong. Or you would be hurt. I feared for
you but I feared for myself because I couldn’t have you. Call me selfish but
being married made it seem like I was with you. I’m sorry if I fucked up all
your dates. Your relationships. What could have been for you. But I promise you
this, Becky, the greatest you life you could have had is nothing compared to
the life and the love I’m going to give to you.”

Becky swallowed and shook her head.
“The papers are signed. It’s over.”

“It’s not until they’re received,”
Chris said. “Please. Come with me.”

Chris backed up and Becky went with
him. He stopped near the fireplace.

“This was why I wanted you here,”
Chris said. “I wanted you here so quick so I could tell you how much I loved
you. To show you the papers were signed to appease that crazy side of
ourselves, okay? That little piece of your heart that wanted to see it done.
That little piece of my past I wanted some closure for. But as far as being
married to you, Becky...”

Chris tossed the papers into the
fireplace. They were engulfed and, in a matter of seconds, wrinkled up into a
ball and were soon nothing but ash and memory.

Becky put her hands to her mouth
and looked from the fireplace to Chris.

“You’re the one,” Chris said. “The
one today. The one yesterday. The one tomorrow. The only one that has thrown a
drink at me. Tortured me. Turned me on. Made me hopeless, romantic, frustrated,
confused, and happy all at the same time. The second I met you I just knew you
were the kind of woman that could never get away. I’m not asking you to marry
me, Becky, I’m asking you to stay married to me.”

Becky nodded.

Chris wasn’t sure what the nod
meant but he didn’t have time to waste. Not any longer.

He moved at Becky. He put his hands
to her face and just held her and kissed her. Becky put her hands to his. For a
second he thought she was going to move his hands off her.

But she didn’t.

Instead, being the wild, beautiful,
perfect woman she was, Becky slowly moved Chris’s hands down to her chest. He
smiled as she smiled and the kiss grew hotter.

Soon they wouldn’t need the fire to
warm the room.

“Tell me,” Chris whispered into
Becky’s mouth.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me everything you want so I
can give it to you,” Chris said.

“I’m simple,” Becky said. “I just
want you.”

“Consider it done,” Chris said.

He lifted Becky off the ground and
placed her to the bed. He stared into her eyes for what felt like hours, but it
didn’t matter. He now had forever to compete with, and with Becky, forever was
possible.

**

Chasing Cross was finally in North
Carolina.

It was one of the rare shows that
Chris felt nervous about. He had Becky in the crowd, along with her entire
family and at least half of Plesent. It was a chance for Chris to stand on the
stage and feel bigger than a rockstar. To know he could point to Becky in the
crowd and make her feel like the most special person in the entire place was such
an amazing feeling. She deserved the spotlight because of how long it had been
taken away from her.

After their sound check, Chris
offered to take the band to Plesent for something to eat at Dee’s. And maybe a
bite at the bakery. By then though he knew most of the town would probably be
shut down or shutting down. Johnnie and Danny offered to go for a ride with
him. Davey was on the phone with Anna, making plans to get together during the
next tour break. And Rick was Rick... moody and thinking about nothing but this
garage band idea.

When Chris and Johnnie arrived back
to the arena, fans cheered them into the building. Johnnie wrapped his arm
tight around Chris’s neck and pulled him close.

“Remember playing The Creek shows?”
Johnnie said. “That shithole dive with five people in it?”

“I remember,” Chris said. “The old
man who owned the place used to come down and make us stop during the local
news.”

Johnnie laughed. “How far have we
come, brother?”

Chris looked down a long hall. The
Chasing Cross crew was hard at work, ensuring the show would go on without a
hitch. The buzz in the arena was the way it always was for a Chasing Cross
show.

It was electric.

It was pure rock n’ roll.

The crowd had already started to
gather in the arena, the murmurs of their voices growing louder by the second.

“This is something,” Chris said.
“Every show is amazing.”

“That’s right,” Johnnie said. “Come
on, let’s go find the boys and get this going.”

They walked into the dressing room
and saw Peter standing with his arms folded.

“Glad you made it,” Peter said.

Chris pointed at Peter. “You’re
lucky I don’t punch you in the mouth for what you did.”

“Hold it off,” Peter said. “I have
some news.”

“News?”

Peter nodded. “I thought about the
whole garage band thing. I love it. Do it. Next break. I say go back to
California and find a way to make it work.”

“Or Colorado,” Johnnie said.

Chris looked at Johnnie. He smiled.

“Jess has been dying to go to the
cabin,” Johnnie said.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Danny said
with a smile of his own. “What if we found a way to get everyone to come.”

“That could work,” Davey said.
“Anna is almost done with the school year.”

“I like it,” Chris said.

“There you have it,” Peter said.
“Good news all around.”

Peter snuck away and Chris thought
about going after him. He let him go, really not caring about what had
happened. Chris left the room and the band split up for a little bit. He went
to the stage and watched the opening band.

Fallen Tuesday was a pretty tight
act. They had a great sound. A little more modern rock than the crunchy, bluesy
sound Chasing Cross offered. There was no doubt in Chris’s mind that once the
tour ended Fallen Tuesday would keep touring, probably on their own. And it
made him smile because it didn’t seem like it was that long ago that Chasing
Cross was opening for a band, waiting for their big launch.

Chris watched more than half the
set and then left to get ready for the show. He wanted to play a little guitar
to loosen his fingers and then work his nerves out on the bass. When he opened
the dressing room door, he smiled... until he saw the rest of the band.

And Peter.

“There you are,” Johnnie said,
rubbing his face.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Chris
asked.

Danny was staring at the floor.
Davey looked away, shaking his head. He looked at Peter and couldn’t remember a
time ever seeing Peter’s face so red.

“What’s...”

“It’s Rick,” Johnnie said.

Chris’s heart sank.

All he could picture was Rick
finally using up the last of his luck and doing something dumb enough to hurt
himself again or someone else.

“What did he do this time?” Chris
asked.

He was ready for anything, or so he
thought.

Peter looked at Chris, his eyes
weary.

“Rick quit the band...”