Fallen Angel (7 page)

When I wake up, I’m still lying with my head in her lap. She’s sitting with her back leaning against the couch, and even though her eyes are closed, I can tell she’s not really sleeping. Just dozing. I’m a jackass. It’s light out already and I’ve kept her trapped here on the floor for hours.

“Shit.” I scramble out of her embrace. A chill runs down the side of my body that was touching hers a second ago. “I’m sorry, Bam Bam. You shoulda woke me. I didn’t mean to just crash on you all night like you’re a fucking pillow.”

She smiles uncomfortably, arching her back and stretching the parts I was crushing up until a moment ago. “It’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest. You were talking in your sleep so much, I kept thinking you were awake again.” Her mouth twists back and forth and I get the feeling she’s not sure what to do next.

“It’s cool if you need to take off. I’m fine. Really.” I’m not. I’m really fucking not. But she doesn’t need to know that. It’s not her problem.

“That’s not it.” She frowns. “You kept talking about Moe.”

I rub my face with my palms. I don’t even wanna know which one of my more humiliating thoughts I said out loud last night. “I’m really sorry you had to hear all that.”

“Shut up.” And she shoves me for good measure. “And listen to me. You are nothing like him. Nothing. Never have been. Never will be. And I know. Because I know you. So, stop thinking that.”

“I can’t, Bam Bam. I can’t.” And all the feelings from last night surge through me all over again.

“Why the fuck not?” She’s looking at me like I’m insane. Maybe I am.

“Because...sure, we seem pretty fucking different if you look at us now. But think about it. He wasn’t always a dirty old perve. He was my age when he hooked up with my mom. And she wasn’t the only one. Women of all ages were all over him. You really think that happened because he was a creep? No! He was charming. And good looking. No one had any idea what he was like. Not until later. Not until it was too late.”

But I can tell by her expression that she still doesn’t see the similarities which are so blatantly clear to me they scare me more than anything else ever has. Well, until last night.

“Bam Bam...” I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know. I don’t think I could stand seeing that look in her eyes disappear. It’s been there ever since she told me how she felt. Now that I’ve seen it, I don’t think I could bare to see it fade away. But maybe it should. Maybe I should snuff it out before she gives me a chance to do something we’ll both regret. “The reason I know, the reason I can see how he was back then...why it was so easy...it’s all the same for me now. You don’t know how many fucking times some teenage girl has wound up in my dressing room on a mission to fuck me. Happens all the goddamn time. They get fake IDs, bribe security, sneak in with someone they know on the inside, you name it, they do it. The youngest one I’ve ever caught was thirteen. Thirteen fucking years old! She didn’t think I was some old creep. She should have, but she didn’t.”

Slowly, the expression on her face begins to change and it’s like a knife to my insides. I don’t even know why her opinion of me matters so much. It shouldn’t. But it does.

“Are you saying,” she breaks to clear her throat, “that you slept with those girls? I mean, it would still be different if you didn’t know they were minors...”

“Fuck no!” I should just let her think that though. I shouldn’t explain. But I have to. “Almost happened once, back when we first started touring. I was eighteen, she was fifteen. We were fooling around and I just got this feeling things were off. So, I started asking her these stupid questions, like, how old was she when she got her first album and what was it. Her age was pretty obvious based on her answers and that was the end of it. Now, it’s the first thing I ask when I meet a girl. And they fucking slip up every time. Thank God.”

She’s watching me. Listening to everything. Her face is a blank fucking canvas now and it’s making me crazy.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Angel, but you’re a fucking idiot if you think you are anything at all like that bastard.” Finally her face comes back to life and I don’t even care that she’s pissed the hell off. “Fine, you sleep around. You’re a big fat whore, but you don’t hurt anyone. You’re not out trying to seduce innocent young girls and you’re sure as shit not knocking any of them up. And that’s not something that’s going to change as you get older, Angel. You’re not going to wake up one morning, a nasty old man who likes little girls. And for the record, I was a little girl when you were well on your way to being a grown man. And you were never anything but kind to me. In fact, you set a standard so high, I’ve yet to meet another man who treats me as well as you always did. That’s the kind of impression you left on me at eleven. And you maintained it well into my teens before you guys took off to pursue fame and fortune in the name of rock and roll.” She exhales loudly. I don’t think she meant to say all of that. Although, I’m glad she did. I’m about to tell her when her mouth opens again, this time her tone is softer when she speaks. “Also, you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened last night. I get it. He made those comments about young girls. You thought of your mom...anyone would have reacted that way.”

It’s the first thing she says that catches me off guard. Because out of everything she just said, it’s the only thing that doesn’t ring true. “That’s not why I went after him.”

“It’s not?”

I shake my head. Until this moment, I never even put it together for myself. I was just reacting. Following my feelings. And there wasn’t time for any conscious thought.

“I’ve seen that piece of shit hurt more people than I care to count, Bam Bam. When I saw him looking at you like that. Saying those things...I don’t know. Something snapped.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with narrowed eyes like she’s not really understanding what I’m saying. Fuck. I’m not understanding what I’m saying.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you the way he’s hurt other women. And I wanted to hurt
him
for even considering it. I wasn’t going after him because of what he did to my mom. I hit him because of what he said about you.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just gets to her feet.

“You taking off?”

She starts walking, nodding her head. “Yeah, okay.” Then, instead of heading for the door, she moves toward the kitchen.

I stand up and hurry after her. “I meant what I said earlier, if you need to go. I’m a big boy, contrary to what you may have seen last night.”

“Angel,” she sighs, “I’m not leaving. And not just because Eda would kick my ass if I did. You’re my friend. More than that. We’re like fucking family. And you got fucking arrested last night, for getting in a fight with your father over some noble idea you had about protecting me, so there’s no way in hell I’m walking out of this house and leaving you alone, big boy or not.”

I nod. “Okay.” I want to smile, but my face won’t fucking do it. “Thank you. For last night. For staying. For now.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Save your thanks until after you’ve had my breakfast. I got all my cooking skills from Eda.” Then she places both hands on my shoulders and pushes down until I’m sitting in one of the barstools at the counter. From there, I watch as she gets to work, first on a search for coffee, which I’m pretty sure happens on instinct for every Jenninson woman, and then when that doesn’t pan out, she moves on to something I think is meant to be scrambled eggs, but I’m not about to put a title on it out loud.

Doesn’t matter. I’ll eat it either way. Not because I’m hungry, but because I know I need to, and, since my taste buds are currently dulled like the rest of my senses, I even manage to get everything down without a problem.

“Satisfied?” I hand her my empty plate.

“Almost.”

I frown. “Why? What’s next?”

Her eyes roll toward the ceiling and likely the second floor above it. “Shower. You look like shit.”

“Fair enough.” I slide out of my seat. “But you for damn sure aren’t running my water for me or soapin’ me up. I know I’m not coming across as super competent at the moment, but I got this.” I can feel my face do involuntary things. I don’t even know why I’m so opposed to having Bam Bam near my shower. I’m not exactly shy when it comes to women. But then, she’s no woman. She’s Bam Bam. And associating her with my naked dick in any way feels dirty. And like it could get me arrested. Again.

“Um, I wasn’t planning on assisting you.” She arches her brow and her full lips purse in a sweet pout while she waits for me to leave and head upstairs.

I stop in the doorway. “You’ll be here when I get done?”

Her lips smooth out into a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here.”

And knowing that, it helps. I don’t know why. But it does.

She’s been around long enough to remember. She knows what growing up was like for me same as I know what shit was like for her. And somehow, that sort of stuff, connects people. It connects us. And so, I believe her when she tells me I’m not like him. Because she knows him. And she knows me. And she has to know the difference.

It’s stupid. And I’m sure when I’m not so fucking drained I’ll realize that, but for now, it feels real. And it feels important.

I’m almost halfway normal again when I get out of the shower and put on some new clothes. The sensation is short lived when I hear Bam Bam arguing with someone as I come down the stairs.

“Move your skinny little ass out of my way, before I move you myself.” I went nearly a decade not hearing the bastard’s voice and now I can’t go twenty-four fucking hours.

“Try me, asshole. You think I’m scared of you? I’m not,” Bam Bam fires back. Still same little feisty ass she was as a kid, never mind he’s already hit her once and is more than twice her size, outweighing her by a hundred and fifty pounds, easy.

“If he’s going to start shit with anyone around here again, it’s gonna be me.” I come up behind her, resting my hand on her waist to let her know she can step back inside. Only she doesn’t move. If anything, I can feel her core tighten under my palm like she’s taking a more solid stance.

“No. He’s caused enough problems for you already.”

“What? This uppity little white bitch telling you what to do now? Damn, son. That’s not the kind of man I thought you’d be.”

I can feel my fist clench and I suddenly get why Bam Bam hasn’t moved. She’s not standing here to stop him, she’s locked into place to stop me. From doing something stupid a second time. But I won’t. Not now.

“Don’t call me, son. And don’t talk about me becoming any kind of a man when you don’t know the first thing about being one.”

Then he has the fucking nerve to leer at her the same way he did last night. “Is that so? Hell, maybe I should spend some time with your little girlfriend here and have her tell you what I know about being a man. Bet she could teach you some things when I get done with her.” 

“Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops. You think they won’t haul your ass up out of here because you pressed charges against me last night? They won’t give a shit. You violated your fucking restraining order the second you made that turn down Sandstone Street. Or didn’t you know you had one? Lawyer filed it first thing this morning. You come anywhere near her from now on and your ass will be back in jail faster than you can call me your fucking son again.”

“You’re serious? You’d call the police on your old man?”

“No,” Bam Bam pipes up. “I won’t make him do that. I’ll call them.”

I
’m just amping up to call the police on Angel’s sceevy sperm donor, when a car rolls up in the driveway and the entire Finding Nolan crew climbs out.

Moe Hollis takes one look at Blaise, Derek, Royce and Hudson, all built like fucking MMA fighters, and apparently decides it’s time to go. Then he spots Ava and actually starts running toward the street where his shitty old car is parked, outside the gate, which I’m thinking might be more for show than purpose.

For the next ten minutes, there’s a great deal of man on man hugging and plenty of Ava insisting it’s okay for everyone to cry. She even takes a minute to pinky swear everyone one of them she won’t ever tell anyone. No one makes me swear. No one cries either. Except for Ava. Who apparently can’t stop because she watched Shawshank Redemption too many damn times when she was in high school.

“I need coffee,” she blubbers on her way past me to the kitchen.

“Good luck with that. I spent the last hour in there trying to find some.”

She shrugs. “It’s cool. I brought the Coffee God with me.” She turns back over her shoulder. “Hudson. We need some magic coffee dust over here.”

He cocks a half smile and hurries over. “That’s cute. Playing on my former barista job and calling me a fairy all in one shot.”

“Yes. Now come over here and make something happen. Just don’t whip out your wand to do it.”

I shake my head. “Really? A penis reference? Is this how you’re going to be approaching this entire situation?” Actually, inappropriate jokes is how we all deal with everything. So, yeah.

“Give me a sec and I’ll come up with something to say about your boobs. Are you even wearing a bra?” She’s pointing at my chest, her index finger zipping back and forth between my nipples.

“It’s been a crazy twenty-four hours, Eda. Shit. Not like I had a lot of time to plan ahead and pack pajamas. Sleeping in my clothes was one thing, but that damn underwire was another.” I fold my arms across my chest to cover up. “You don’t look so hot either, by the way. Is that a pretzel in your hair?”

She reaches up and peels it out. Then eats it after briefly inspecting it. “It’s all I’ve had to eat in the last fifteen hours. The police station wasn’t exactly stocked and ready to serve us breakfast after we spent half the night there.”

Hudson chuckles gruffly, still searching the cupboards for something to brew coffee with. I have a hunch I had the last of it in the cup Angel made me yesterday, but I’m keeping that little detail to myself. Now’s not the time to be the guy who drank the last of the coffee.