The Hysterics (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Enjoy the little things

DANE

There was no sense in trying to sleep that night. I just held Fallon in my arms, her head cradled in the groove of my shoulder while she snored softly. Rage boiled through my entire body. It had all come crashing back down around me like it was yesterday.

Silence draped over me while my hands shook. I didn’t know if it was more from the fear, sadness, or anger, or maybe all of it rolled into one heaping mess bottled up deep down inside my gut. Sitting in the sentencing hearing had been the hardest part of the process so far, and I really was not prepared for it in any way, shape, or form. Watching my mother stand before the judge moments before he was going to take away her freedom was simultaneously liberating and stifling. Maverick and Marty sat on either side of me. Their support and concern was palpable while hot tears stung the back of my eyes and my throat went dry.

The older judge cleared his throat and glanced around the courtroom before speaking slowly, taking care to articulate each word. “Mrs. Pearson, I hereby sentence you to fifteen years…”

Those words echoed in my head while they filled the courtroom and time stood still. My eyes locked on my mother’s as she slowly turned to me, her face tear-stained and scared. I could see her knees and hands shaking while sobs overcame her frail body. Her skin was chalky and seemed loose on her. Withdrawals had not been kind while the trial took place. I refused to post bail or let anyone else do it for us. She needed to pay for what she’d done and she needed to feel all of the pain of it, not hide behind a cloud of drugs and alcohol.

Marty leaned in, his hand on my shoulder. “Dane?”

I turned to him, my mouth open, tears falling rapidly. “Yeah?”

“Let’s get you out of here, son.” Marty pulled on my arm sternly.

That was the last day I had seen my mom before she showed up at my apartment hours before. It was all still an open wound with a frail bandage on it and there was no fixing that. There was really no light at the end of my tunnel of loathing.

Fallon shifted and rolled over, cuddling with my pillow. She looked so peaceful even though she was drooling a little, mouth completely open, hair matting to the side of her face. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, but it was. I stared, taking it all in: the way her small frame was swallowed up by my faded Hysterics shirt, which she had claimed for her sleeping attire every time she slept over. The way she was gripping on the pillow so tightly. How her eyes fluttered and her lips twitched while she softly snored. The way her lip rings glistened. It was all so hot. Add in her septum piercing and put a fork in me, I was fucking done.

I shifted under her, pulling her back onto my chest and holding her as tightly as I could without waking her. It was so simple and calming. In that moment I was broken and raw but there was nothing scary or painful about it; she took those horrible feelings away. I wasn’t alone in this anymore, and that was the most amazing feeling I could have ever imagined.

Slowly my eyes closed, my mind stilled, and sleep was able to come, short and fleeting, but dreamless and fulfilling.

FALLON

“Dane?” I shook him a little while his phone alarm blared on the nightstand. “Dane, it’s time to wake up.”

He shifted groggily, releasing my waist to roll over and silence the terribly obnoxious siren screaming at us to get the hell out of bed. “I just want to lay right here all day,” he mumbled before kissing my hair and wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“Well then.” I shoved up from the bed and grabbed my purse off the floor. “Why don’t we?”

I started a text to Payton, explaining that Dane and I needed a personal day. I knew that it would raise a few red flags with my boss-slash-pseudo uncle, but in that moment, I didn’t give a rat’s ass.

Dane grabbed my phone before I could hit the send button, his bloodshot eyes filled with concern and exhaustion. “You said you had a lot to do at work.”

I shrugged, pulling the blanket over my bare legs. “It’s freaking Friday and we work our asses off. We can afford to play hooky for one day.”

Dane’s lips slowly turned up at the corners, releasing my phone. I sent the text to Payton, and within a minute I got a message back.

Payton: Have a good day off. I hope everything is ok.

Simple as that.

Dane stretched slowly, yawning. His smile never faded while the yawn contorted his face and mouth. I giggled and kissed his chest before laying my head right where it had rested for most of the night.

“This is nice,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Yeah, it sure is.” He breathed, relaxing back onto his cushioned headboard.

There was a heaviness in Dane’s breathing that reflected in his eyes. There was something biting at the back of his mind and I needed to help lift the weight.

“Spill.”

His eyebrow rose while curiosity oozed out of each word. “What do you mean? Spill what?”

“What’s on your mind?”

A deep breath entered his lungs through gritted teeth. He slowly exhaled while tightening his grip around me. “The first time I saw my mom smoke meth was when I was three. She got so high that she even offered the pipe to me. That’s my first memory—ever. It was also the day my dad took off.” He sighed. I kissed his cheek and he continued, “My favorite ice cream is rocky road. I hated the name The Hysterics when Rodney first suggested it, and still kind of wish we had brainstormed a little more on names. I tried to kill myself on the one year anniversary of my sister’s death.”

Even though sadness blanketed Dane’s face, he seemed lighter. Maybe sharing was more healing than I had thought, so it was my turn. With a deep breath, I dove in, “Regicide Assisted was my idea, the original name of my old band was Glass Eyed Fish.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Such a dumb name.”

Dane kissed my cheek. “What else? I want to know more about you.”

I swallowed hard. “My favorite ice cream is rocky road, too. I miss my old life, but this one is growing on me.”

Dane’s lips brushed mine. “What else?”

“I can barely look my mom in the eye because I hate her for marrying my dad’s partner. She’s never admitted it, but I think they were having an affair before my dad was shot in the drive-by on my tenth birthday. Sam never really liked me because of all the times I accused them of screwing around. That’s what started the abuse, along with his drinking.”

“I’ll kill him.” Dane’s voice was low, growling from deep in his gut.

“No need. He’s a harmless old coward now.”

“Can I hate him?”

I nodded, pulling the covers back over us. We held each other in silence until we both dozed off for a few more hours.

Chapter Seventeen

Becoming a local

FALLON

Dane snored lightly while my eyes fluttered open to see that the clock on the nightstand was blaring half past noon in bright red numbers. Even though there was nowhere for us to be, sleeping away the morning felt wrong. It was a terrible thing for a musician to be a morning person, but I felt guilty for sleeping away half of the day. The memory of my mom’s voice squawked in my ears:
“We’re burning daylight, Fal. Get a damn move on.”

My mother meant well, she really did have a kind heart, but she was totally brainwashed by Sam’s callousness and controlling behavior. It only took a year from the day my father’s body was put in the ground for Sam to move into our home, and within three months of that they were on their freaking honeymoon. It was safe to say I would never truly get over the way that felt. I missed my father. His warm smile. The way the crow’s feet attached to the corners of his eyes would droop down when he cried happy tears at sappy commercials, even though he tried to hide how sentimental he truly was. The way his posture would be just a tad straighter once he was in his uniform. How no matter how late he had to work, he would always sneak into my room at night to wake me up and tell me a bedtime story, even if it was a short one.

I smiled at Dane’s calm, sleeping face. There was so much about him that reminded me of my dad. They had identical hardass exteriors, hidden soft sides, and big hearts that loved with all their might.

Dane shifted, coughing a little, startling himself awake. I busted out laughing while he caught his breath looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“You ok?” I questioned, still laughing a little.

Wide-eyed, he nodded. “Just a bad dream.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You know those dreams where you feel like you’re falling?”

“I hate those!” They were the freaking worst and I had them all the time.

Right then my stomach rumbled
very
loudly. I blushed, wrapping my arms around my hollow stomach.

“I guess we should tame that beast.”

I nodded. “That’d be nice.”

“I know the perfect place! We need to make you a true Chicagoan sometime or another.”

“You mean like a local?”

Dane shot up from the bed, reaching a hand out to help me to my feet. “Have you heard of Al’s?”

I shook my head.

“You’re in for a fucking treat then, babe.” He winked, tossed me a small Hysterics shirt from the back of his closet, and started to put his sneakers on. “That’s an extra, you can have it.”

I pulled the guy’s size small shirt over my head and pulled on my jeans. “So what is Al’s, anyway?”

“You’ll see. This is going to be epic.”

After pulling my bedhead into a loose bun, attempting to make my smudged makeup look somewhat less vampire like, and praying that I wouldn’t start smelling from the lack of deodorant, I slung my bag over my shoulder and entered Dane’s living room where he was waiting. “Ready?”

He popped up from the couch and took my hand. “Heck yes.” A smile that could light up the entire city spread across Dane’s stubble covered face. His eyes were bright with excitement and I breathed in their infectious brilliance. My skin tingled as our fingers interlaced and I rose up on my tiptoes to kiss his soft grinning lips. I wanted to catch his amazing energy and harness it, let it course through my callous veins and bring me back to life. Right in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to truly be alive in my new life.

As the clock rolled around to one, we were walking up to Al’s. A gigantic sign screamed brilliantly on an awning over a small modest restaurant: ‘Al’s #1 Italian Beef’.

The grip on my hand tightened while Dane’s excited gaze dropped down to mine. “This is the original.”

“There’s more of Al around?” I was trying to be funny through my naiveté and Dane just kissed the top of my head and nodded.

For being famous and having the number one Italian beef sandwich, the inside was just as modest as the outside, and frankly, kind of underwhelming. We were greeted by a young guy behind a wood paneled counter with a face filled with acne, probably the result of eating too many greasy sandwiches.

Dane smiled at the pimply-faced kid and rattled off, "We'll take two beefs, dipped with hot and sweet.”

“Any fries or drinks?”

“Two pops and an order of fries.”

The guy rang us up and gave us our soggy, messy-looking sandwiches faster than I could have said lickety-split.

“Alright, I have to teach you how to eat this.” Dane was still grinning ear to ear while I looked at him like he had six heads.

“Ok? I mean, I have eaten a sandwich one or two times in my lifetime.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not like a true Chicagoan. Come here.”

We walked over to the counter with our backs facing the counter where we had ordered. Dane set our food out and took the drinks from me, setting them down and grabbing my hips.

“You have to plant your feet here.” He shifted me to the perfect spot, which felt way too far away from the counter.

“Ok,” he continued, standing right next to me, “Now put your forearms like this on the bar.” He leaned his forearms onto the edge of the counter and waited for me to follow suit.

“And then lean over so that if you spill, nothing gets on you, just on the counter or floor.”

“The floor? I’m not a heathen!”

Dane chuckled, sliding my beef sandwich—which was dripping with a crazy amount of juice—in front of me. “Trust me, this is how everyone does it!”

I shrugged. “Alright. Here goes nothing.” I grabbed my overstuffed, soggy bun and dove in.
Holy hell.
It was the most amazingly spicy, sweet, soggy, delicious explosion of flavor I could have ever hoped to sink my teeth into.

“Well?” Dane was waiting for my reaction, not even touching his meal.

My eyes grew wide and my smile started to curl. “This is fucking incredible!”

Dane nodded. “See, I told you!”

DANE

After using a ton of napkins and almost covering my shirt in gravy, the last bite of phenomenal beef was rolling around in my mouth.

“You ready?” Fallon’s cute lips sucked on her straw and I felt my dick twitch.

Fuck, she’s too damn hot. Is there such a thing?

My mind focused on ripping the T-shirt off of her and fucking her gorgeous body right on the bar at Al’s.

She nudged my arm with an elbow and I choked out, “Yeah. Let’s blow this pop stand.”

She laughed at my dumb cliché and grabbed her bag.

“You should probably take me home.”

Ugh.
Terrible words to hear, but she was right. “Alright.” I pouted, opening The Judge’s door for her to slide into the passenger seat.

“Why so serious, Romeo?”

“It's the worst part of my day—leaving you.”

She popped out her bottom lip, trying to feign a frown. “Doesn’t absence make the heart grow founder?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Man, I’m fucking sappy. Chicks like sappy, right?
Fallon seemed to be enjoying it at least.

“Well, I do have practice tonight.”

“See, I’d just cramp your rock star style!” she giggled. Her giggle was adorable, way too freaking cute for me to not hear all the fucking time, like every minute of every damn day.

“I think the guys would love to enjoy your presence again.”

She rolled her eyes, buckling her seatbelt and taking the door handle into her hand. “Get in,” she demanded and I trotted around the front end of my amazingly gorgeous car.

I let the engine rumble to life, taking Fallon’s small hand in mine. “I will take you home and not be too needy.” I knew I was taking up too much of her time, that I was being too pushy, but I was falling fast and she was my only safety net.

She leaned over to kiss my cheek. “I’ll be going to the barbecue tomorrow. One night won’t kill us, babe. Promise.”

“Well if you promise, who am I to question you?”

I was the last one to show up to practice.

“Hey, guys.” I slumped onto the stool behind my set.

“Hey, Dane. You all right?”

There was nothing wrong with me. I was fucking fantastic. But the little kid from “Love Actually” came to mind, specifically when he was sitting on the park bench with his stepfather and saying, “Worse than the total agony of being in love?” That little kid was right: love was total agony. Fantastic agony.

“Yeah, of course I am.”

“Why didn’t you bring Fallon? She could really help us.”

“She wanted to have a night to catch up on some work. Can we just get this shit started?” I sounded pissed and bratty, which was not my intention at all; I was just preoccupied.

We dove into one of the first songs that Maverick had ever written. I loved the lyrics, the angst and lust behind them. It was captivating and fast-paced and raw. There wasn’t any truth to the words that wove together to tell a sad story of toxic lovers, but it was so convincing. Maverick was just that talented.

There’s a pain clicking inside my heart

Keeping it locked away behind my lips

Influenced by a secret hidden deep down from you

You think you know me

I want to believe all the lies you know and trust

The words bleed from my mouth

And they are the poison

Eating at my heart

As it kills you slowly in my arms

I’m your killer

I’m your lover

This is a corrupt utopia

You call perfect

And I call hell

I love your smile

And how you're always carefree

I hate what I do to you

Take your world, twist it into sugar and spoon feed you bliss

When the reality is salt stinging the cuts caused by my claws

Pure white turned to battlefields of red

Running dry from our two day old duel

The flames getting blown out from your eyes

A birthday cake wish dying as you give in