No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (54 page)

We all screamed our undying love and approval.

“All right! We got one more for you, and in all honesty, we only fuckin’ finished it. This one is dear to me, and I hope it all becomes your new fuckin’ favorite ’cause I won’t ever get fuckin’ tired of singing it. It’s called ‘Along the River Stones.’”

I had been
dying
to hear this one. Our Boys never shut up about it.

Flipper kicked off with the bass drums—
bah-dum…bah-dum…bah-dum
—like a heartbeat. X then slipped in the most fluid, elegant bass line I had ever heard. Alys reached out and took my hand, and glancing at her, I saw she felt it, too. It was liquid and smooth, flowing like a rich undercurrent. A few heartbeats of this, and Connor joined in with the rhythm guitar, floating just above the bass line, conforming to and complementing it. Jason sank into it with the grace of a skipping stone, hopping along the surface, sinking, rising, and skipping again.

Phil stood, rocking back and forth with the viscosity of it, his eyes closed as he listened and waited. Fluid transformed into a thicker substance, the intro morphing, and Phil’s creamy baritone dipped into the flow.

“This road feels fuckin’ endless/

I’m sick, I’m broken, angry and disgusted/

Just another lonely mutilated soul/

Crusted over with the grunge I’ve accumulated.

There’s no way I can ever be clean/

I can’t tell if any of this is familiar/

A long time ago, I took a road that led me far, far away from her/

I followed it to the edge of the world/

Hoping I’d come full circle.

Now I’m a fuckin’ mess, not worthy of shit!/

Not worthy…of her/

All I want is to come home again/

To walk along the river stones/

To have one last chance and jump in/

Let the waters wash over me and take me to the end/

I want to rise up! Rise out!/”

His voice swelled, pregnant with purpose.

“Flesh! Blood! Bone!/” he screamed.

“To stand before her, have her call me her own…/” His voice trailed off into soft defeat.

Jason went into a masterpiece of a solo, drawing out a tortured soul from deep fathoms. The man was a fucking genius on six strings—mournful, heart-wrenching, slick with pain. X and Connor both poured themselves into holding Jason up, the upper current to their steady undertow.

Phil rocked back and forth, back and forth. Jason’s solo tapered off, and Phil swelled with his breath, rising to his full height.

“This road seems to go on forever/

I’m tired, I’m thirsty, jaded and dirty/

Just another world-weary traveler/

The dust of this journey has left me filthy/

I don’t think I can ever feel unsoiled/

But now this is starting to look familiar/

A long time ago, I took this route/

It has led me far, far away from her/

I followed it to the ends of the Earth/

Only to come full circle.”

We were all captivated. Bougainvillea had turned its face toward Our Boys, watching in collective awe as NOLA’s Junk redefined itself—unabashed, fearless, unapologetic.

Jason’s fingers slipped beneath the surface, and the subliminal current rose, X floating through a bass solo that drowned us all. He pulled, tugged, and rose over us in such a gorgeous heavy tide. A brilliant flood of genius flowed from his hands through his five strings.

When X sank back below the surface, the masses exploded, cheering to the rafters for the shy bass player who had never displayed just how amazing he truly was before that moment.

Eyes still closed, Phil’s smile eclipsed the burning stage lights.

Next to me, Alys had tears shimmering in her eyes. She had never realized it either, and I witnessed her love for X increase exponentially.

“I’m not sure what it is I’m worth/

If I’m even worth anythin’ to her anymore/

I just want to find my home again/

I need to walk along the river stones/

Worthy or not, I have to be her own/

I’m jumpin’ in those fuckin’ waters!/

Wash off this filth!” he roared.

“Take me to the end!/

Let me rise up! Rise out!/

Fuck please!/

I’m flesh! I’m blood! I’m bone!” he screamed, bent in half, eyes screwed up tight.

Straightening to his full height, he opened his eyes, looking directly into my weeping face. I swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in my throat. I didn’t even realize I had been crying almost from the beginning.

“She stands before me/” Phil’s voice filled with wonder.

“I’m not alone…/

I’ve come home.”

Oh. My. God.

Phil chucked the mic, not taking his eyes off me, and simply stepped off the stage, dropping and landing gracefully. Burly One lifted me up by my waist and just handed me over the barricade to Phil, who crushed me in his arms to his chest, soaking me through my shirt with his sweat.

“My Baby Girl,” he whispered. “My beautiful other half. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

A cacophony of eardrum-bursting cheers erupted around us and swallowed us, his words, and my responses, enshrouding us in a noise so profound that it could be touched, felt. Our relationship was now the stuff of legends.

Everyone knew about Baby Girl. Everyone knew she was real, could be seen, touched, and she was
me
. We now were a part of something much greater. We both felt it. It was terrifying and somehow wonderful.

Phil and his Baby Girl were
immortal
.

Phil woke me up early in the morning, which did nothing for my mood, nor did the fact that I had no time to do yoga. I did a few quick rounds of Sun Salutations in my bedroom to get the blood flowing, and then my overbearing, demanding, mean boyfriend tossed me into the bathroom.

“You should spend more quality time with your brother,” Phil announced while fiddling with his phone.

“What a load of sh—” I grumbled.

“Jump in the shower. I’ll be in there in a sec.”

“What’s going on?” I demanded. “I’ve already told Connor I’d go over there to help him get stuff for dinner tonight, so you can cut the crap.”

“Surprise,” he grunted. “You have to be out of the house for however long it takes.”

“
My
house. I have to be out of
my
house,” I fumed, infuriated further when I discovered I was turning on the shower like a good little girlfriend.

“Yes,” Phil snapped back, his phone pressed to his ear, shutting the bathroom door.

Da and Gloria had gone to Lafayette for a few days for what I guessed was a romantic getaway. They had left on Tuesday and were coming home tonight to have a quiet Christmas Eve dinner with their rising rock star of a son. Their daughter would be otherwise engaged with whatever the hell her crazy-ass boyfriend had planned for her. I had already agreed to spend it alone with him. The surprise crap was unnecessary.

Connor and I already had an awesome surprise last night. Da had proposed to Gloria, and she had said yes. Mom would have approved. If anything, I thought she had counted on it happening one day.

“You’ll forgive me,” Phil told me as he joined me in the shower, using his huge body to push me face-first up against the cold tile wall.

“I will not,” I snapped back heatedly.

He caressed the head of his cock over a butt cheek.

“Put it away. I’m not in the mood!”

His hand fisted in my hair, pressing my face into the wall, while the other slipped two fingers into me from behind, finding me so wet and ready for him that it was a bit embarrassing.

Laughing, his mouth grazed over my ear. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“I’m not wearing any pants,” I huffed.

Nudging the head of himself at my entrance, he purred, “Let me fuck you into a good mood. I promise I won’t be gentle. I know how much you love feelin’ my dick poundin’ your cunt into submission.”

He’s got me there.
“You’re an asshole.”

“I’ll fuck your asshole, too, if you want,” he whispered, pushing in, stretching and filling me. “But only after I get your tight little pussy all wet and loosened up. How many times you wanna come?”

I never answered, but he ended up giving me a magical three, and I was much more docile after that. I hadn’t even needed to be coerced into the vehicle. It wasn’t until we hit the city limits that I realized I needed some damn coffee and demanded he get me a double spiced-pumpkin latte.

Mega latte in hand, and my boyfriend trying really hard not to bust out in offensive laughter, we headed for Gentilly. Pulling the Black Beauty into the driveway at Da’s next to my green Volkswagen—I had lent her to my brother—Phil hopped out, and I huffed as I pulled my bag strap over my head. He was fighting a grin as he helped me out of the truck.

“Don’t be grumpy. I’ll be back to get you in time for dinner.”

“Where are we going?” I demanded.

“It’s a surprise,” he replied, smiling with his damn dimples.

He knew I could never resist the sight of them, and I felt my insides melt a little.

“I don’t like being banned from my own house,” I grumbled.

His smile deepened, along with those dimples. “It’s only for a little while. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

The kiss he gave me after that was worth it all in itself, but I didn’t tell him that.

Inside, Connor had coffee waiting for me, and I added more to half the latte left. Tossing the keys to Gretchen at me, we headed out to the farmers market.

“So, what time are we all getting together tomorrow?” Connor asked.

“Phil said people were coming over around three o’clock.” I pulled into a parking spot. “And that we have to
dress up
.” I wasn’t too thrilled about that part.

Phil hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted everyone over for Christmas Day. Like Thanksgiving, everyone was bringing something to contribute so that we wouldn’t have to do all the work. And we had Lewis. Together, he and I had devised a decent menu of two roast beefs and roasted pork. His parents had flown in from San Francisco earlier in the week and would be joining us for the festivities.

“Good, then at least we get to sleep in.” He sighed. “Kenna?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to live with our parents again.”

“I know,” I replied. “But you have to let me talk to Alys first.”

He nodded, looking off in the distance.

“What happened between you two?”

His eyes shifted to the ground, and he flushed. “Caught on to that, have you?”

“A little.”

He sighed again. “Look, it’s nothing to worry about. I don’t love her any less, and we’d never let it come between all of us. I had thought that something was there once, but I was wrong, and we’ve moved on.”

“So, you don’t think she’ll be hard to convince to have you move in with us then?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why she should. She’s never there anyway.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but I could hear a hint of bitterness.

“Is it going to be hard for you to be working with X?”

He shook his head. “No. That guy…he’s fuckin’ awesome. I love him like a brother already. If I had to choose someone for Alys, it would be him.”

“Okay.”

“Just…don’t say anything, okay?”

“It’s not my place to say anything to anyone about whatever this is.”

“Thanks.”

We ended up having lunch before buying all the ingredients for a surf ’n’ turf dinner. Once back home, I prepped everything for him while he more or less stood there and watched.

“When Mom calls, all you have to do is fire up the grill and heat up the potatoes in the oven. Shouldn’t take you more than half an hour.”

Then, we parked our asses in front of the TV, watched the Food Network, and smoked a blunt.

“Yeah, she passed out about an hour and a half ago.”

I heard Connor’s hushed voice and stirred. I had passed out
on
him, his arm draped over my shoulder and side, cradling me to his warm chest. There was a nice little patch of drool on his shirt, and he held my phone up to his ear.

“Oh, she just woke up.”

Groggy, I accepted my phone from him. “Hello?” I croaked.

“Hey,” came Phil’s warm chocolaty voice. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah. I guess the blunt laid me out. What time is it?”

“Almost six. You ready for me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“All right, I’ll be there soon.”

Connor smiled at me as I hung up.

“What?” I asked, righting myself and rubbing my face.

“Nothing. Just happy for you, is all.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“How did you guys meet? You never told me.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I gave him the tale and told him how we’d reunited. I left out the hairy bits, saying only, “It was somewhat nuclear in the beginning, but shit’s smoothed out since then. We both had wanted to be together for so long, but we really didn’t
know
each other, you know? So, we had to figure shit out, but…I could never imagine being with anyone else.”

“That poor Brian guy never had a chance, did he?”

“Actually, he did. I had all but given up hope of ever seeing Phil again. I think a part of me really fell in love with Brian. But not enough. The minute I knew Phil was coming home, that was it. It was over between us. I haven’t heard from or seen him since, which sucks because he’s a wonderful man and a true friend. But he had strong feelings, and I didn’t think it was right to have him around, only to hurt him worse.”