Front Man: The Complete Trilogy (8 page)

The
rain had finally stopped, but the wind carried a chill. Sara stuffed
her hands in her pockets, wishing she had gloves. The receptionist
had thrust an elaborate map of Paris into her hands as she left the
hotel, but she had given up trying to follow her route. It wasn't
like she knew where she was going anyway. Instead, Sara followed the
river, hoping the dark waters of the Seine would lead her to her
lover. She scanned the faces of everyone she passed, hoping Jack
would emerge from the crowd, but there were only strangers, puzzled
as to why the tourist was staring at them. Though her body ached with
tiredness, Sara kept walking. Suddenly she found herself standing
before the glittering glass pyramid of the Louvre, and she stopped
and stared for a moment. The contrast of the modern structure with
the ancient building behind was quite breathtaking, and Sara almost
forgot the purpose of her mission as she marvelled at its beauty. She
thought of the Mona Lisa tucked safely away inside, charming visitors
with her mysterious expression, unreadable yet alluring. Jack was no
oil painting, but there was something enigmatic about him too, a
sadness behind every smile. Hidden depths that she would love to
uncover, if she could just lay hands on him. Sara checked her cell
phone for the hundredth time, hoping against hope that he was back in
the warmth of the hotel room wondering where she was. No new
messages.

Passing
the museum, Sara found herself at the entrance to a magnificent park.
In the distance she could see the imposing structure of the Arc de
Triomphe, and further, the tip of the Eiffel Tower standing tall
against the skyline. Even in her anxious state, Sara felt overwhelmed
by the beauty of the city. Surely Jack must have felt it too as he
walked the streets. Sara hoped it had offered him a little comfort.
She quickened her pace as she made her way down the wide central
promenade. It was growing late, and the city's crowds were thinning
out. Suddenly, Sara felt alone, and more than a little uncomfortable.
A shadow made her start, but it was only a statue, partially
concealed by the ornate shrubbery. Sara sighed and hurried on. A
little way ahead, she could see a crowd of young men loitering
underneath one of the metal lamp posts that flanked the path. Sara
pulled her coat tighter around herself and tried to walk casually as
she passed them. She had just put them behind her when she heard a
wolf whistle, and some rough sounding French that elicited a laugh
from the rest of the group. Then all of a sudden, Sara felt a hand
clamp down on her shoulder. As she whirled round, she saw that they
had formed a semi-circle around her. The lit ends of their cigarettes
glowed in the gloom. 
"Please...I'm
just looking for someone," Sara stuttered, unnerved by their
predatory expressions. They were probably younger than her, some
still bearing teenaged acne across their tanned cheeks, but there was
something threatening about them nonetheless. The ringleader snaked
his arm around her shoulders, and said something unintelligible in
her ear, gaining another laugh from his friends. Sara could smell
alcohol on his breath. She tried to pull away from him, but he
grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her soft flesh with such
force that she cried out. Sara looked around frantically, desperate
for someone to come to her aid, but all of a sudden the vast park
seemed deserted. She cursed herself for being so stupid, wandering
around by herself at night. Another man was approaching her now,
saying something to his buddy, a sickening grin on his face. Sara
reached slowly into her coat pocket, trying to find her wallet,
hoping that the remainder of her cash would convince them to leave
her alone. She tried to stay calm, to keep her breathing steady, not
to give herself over to the panic she could feel building. Then, like
a light in the darkness, a voice rang out.

"Hey! Leave her the fuck alone!"

Sara
turned her head to see a dark shape running towards them. The
ringleader reflexively loosened his grip on her arm, and she wrenched
herself away from him, running as fast as her shaking legs could
manage. The voice came again,
"That's
right, run! Get the hell out of here!" Not wanting to look round
to see if the thugs had responded to this request, Sara ran
helplessly towards the voice, and collapsed shaking into the
stranger's arms.
"Hey,
you ok there? You're safe now, don't worry. Bunch of jerks." The
voice was American. Familiar. Comforting. Sara looked up.
"I
was looking for you." There was a moment of silence as they took
each other in."Looks like you found me." Jack wrapped his
arms around her and pressed her close to his chest.

Huddled
on the bench, Sara clung to Jack's arm, unwilling to let go of him
even for a second.
"Sara,
I'm so, so sorry. I've dragged you out here and now you almost got
hurt...thank god I got there in time. I don't know what I would have
done if something had happened..."

"Nothing
happened. I'm fine. I'm just worried about you. What on earth's going
on Jack?"
"Don't
you read the papers?"

"Yeah, I do. Now tell me what really
happened."

"Oh Sara. It's a long story."

"Well I spent eight hours on a plane
getting here. I'm ready for it."

Jack looked down at her. Her cheeks were pink
from the cold, her hair mussed by the wind. She looked incredible. He
placed his hands in the small of her back and pulled her towards him,
running his hands through her hair as their lips met. He felt her
body relax as his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Then she
pulled away abruptly.

"Jack," she said, trying to keep the
smile off her face, "I thought you wanted to talk."

"When did I ever say that?"

"You're not funny. I've been so worried.
Everyone's worried, and you just disappear off into the night, like,
like..."

"An idiot?"

"Something like that."

Jack stroked her face gently, trying to find
the words to explain himself, but he drew a blank. There was so much
to say, but he didn't know where to begin.

I'm
sorry," he managed at last. Then he kissed her again. Sara
stopped trying to fight it. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
She helped him with the buttons of her jacket, until he could slip
his hands into the warmth beneath. They traced her curves through her
tight sweater, as Jack kissed her neck, allowing his teeth to gently
pressure her soft skin. Sara let out a moan.

Jack's fingers were cold as they stroked their
way over the sensitive skin of her belly, striving upwards to tease
the hard points of her nipples through her bra. She was on top of him
now, straddling his lap, his erection apparent even through the thick
fabric of his jeans.

Maybe we should get back to the hotel,"
she whispered hoarsely in his ear, grinding her crotch against him in
desperation. She was dying to feel him inside her again.

Jack moved his right hand between her legs and
began to massage her clit in rhythmic circles, applying just the
right amount of pressure. Already dripping wet, Sara felt her pussy
spasm as it let forth another gush of moisture.

"I don't think I can wait that long,"Jack
grunted. "I have to have you now."

With her legs still wrapped around him, Jack
lifted Sara he weighed nothing and carried her to a more secluded
part of the park, away from the central pathway. He pushed her
against one of the tall chestnut trees that lined the park. Sara
could smell earth and wet leaves, and feel the roughness of the bark
through her clothes. Her cold fingers fumbled with the buttons of his
fly, desperate to free him, as she rubbed his bulge with the palm of
her hand. She could hear Jack panting in her ear, then his mouth was
on hers, his hands pulling at her clothes. At last he freed her
breasts and buried his head between them, inhaling her warm, feminine
scent as his fingers dived back between her legs. Sara's eyes flew
open as he entered her in one hard thrust, gripping her hips,
gritting his teeth as he pushed himself inside her. They fucked like
animals, rough and frenzied, Sara biting her lip to stop herself from
crying out into the cold night air. She felt Jack's grip on her
tighten, and he began to moan into her ear, “Oh god, oh god,
Sara-' her name left his mouth in a strangled cry as he came in
heart-stopping spasms. At the sound of his voice Sara felt something
inside her shatter, and she exploded around him, every inch of her
vibrating with the force of her orgasm.

Jack lowered her gently to the ground as she
pulled her clothes to cover herself. Buttoning up his own pants, he
kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

"That was...quite something." Jack
grinned, and Sara couldn't help but smile back.

"Certainly was."

Jack put his arm around Sara's shoulders and
she snuggled into his warmth. Together, they made their way down the
pathway, heading towards the Arc de Triomphe.

"Pretty spectacular, isn't it?" Sara
said softly.

"Not as spectacular as you."

Sara responded with a playful slap on the arm.
"Quit joking around Carter. It's been a long day."

"Who said I was joking?"

Sara looked up at him. He looked sincere, and
handsome as ever. But the dark rings beneath his eyes worried her.
And was she imagining it, or did his face look thinner?

"You're meant to be on stage right now,
you know. People paid a lot of money for those tickets. If it was me,
I'd be mad as hell."

"They're not just there for me, you know."

"Jack, no disrespect to the rest of the
guys, but it's not Compass without you."

" Pfft. Who's going to want to see me now,
huh? You've seen the pictures. You know what they're saying. I'm
finished, Sara, that's all there is to it." A note of anger had
crept into his voice.

"Jack..." Sara trailed off, unsure
how to convince him otherwise.

"See? Nothing to say, is there?"

"Yes there is, if you would just give me a
minute! Look, people on my own street don't even recognize me. I'm
not going to pretend I know what it's like being you, and having my
life laid out on the front pages every day. But I know that people
love you. They love your music, they love the band...that doesn't
just go away overnight, no matter what the newspapers might write.
And...I haven't known you very long. But I know enough about you that
I know you would never have done anything to hurt anyone. So
whatever's going on here, they've got their facts wrong. I guess I
just don't understand why you're hiding away and taking it like this.
Why don't you fight back? Stand up for yourself? Whatever the truth
is...it can't be any worse than what they're saying. Right?"

Jack
narrowed his eyes, and Sara thought she caught a glimpse of a tear.
She took his hand and squeezed it. They walked in silence for a
couple of minutes, letting Jack gather his thoughts.
"Sara...I'm
not the guy you seem to think I am. I never sold drugs, never; I
don't even touch the stuff myself. But that doesn't mean I'm a good
person. I've done plenty of shitty things in my time, things I don't
even like to think about. Those pictures...that wasn't a great time
in my life. I was trying to help someone I loved, but I screwed it
up. I let them down. And I'm not going to drag all that out into the
open for the sake of my career, I'm just not. Anyway, if they knew
the truth...nobody would look at me the same way again. It all ends
the same, Sara. I'm done."

"Fine. Give up then."

"I'm not giving up. It's for the best."

"And what are you going to do now, huh? Go
rot in your mansion somewhere, become a recluse? Have plastic surgery
and get a job in Safeway?"

"Man, I never was much good as a check out
chick. I don't know, ok. I'll figure something out. Come on, it's
freezing. Lets get you back to the hotel, we'll order some room
service, then you can yell at me some more."

"I'm not hungry."

"Sara...I'm sorry ok? Jesus, what do you
want me to say?"

"Your band are out there right now,
playing the songs you wrote, with that asshole Michael singing your
words. All because you're scared of...what exactly? A few stupid
journalists?"

"I...I'm
not scared, ok, it's just...once they start digging, once they know
they're on to something, they won't let it go. If I argue, they're
going to keep asking questions, and eventually my whole goddamn life
will be down there in black and white. I've worked too damn hard to
keep my past private. Some things are best forgotten."

"Some things, or some people?"

Jack shook his head.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?
Dammit Sara."

They had reached the main street, and as the
traffic whizzed past, Jack waved hopefully at passing taxis.
Eventually, a battered black car with a cracked sign pulled up, and
they slid into the back seat. Jack crossed his arms over his chest
and stared out of the window as they travelled back towards the
hotel. Then he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and Sara wrapped
her arms around him.