9781618857958KissMeLikeYouMeanItLeveyNC (4 page)

The crowd chanted the
beginning of Rhapsody. Impressed, he slipped his guitar off the strap and took a
stool from a stage hand.

While Jimmy played the beginning
to the ballad without the band, each member watched the crowd eat up the
private song written for Garrick’s fiancé to prove he was ready for a permanent
commitment.

“How about a new song
tonight? A new one no one has heard. This song happens to be one Jackson wrote.
This shit for brains can actually compose, surprising huh.” The crowd
applauded. “I know—yeah, the man is worth more than fucking and
playin
’ guitar and piano. Bet ya’ll didn’t know that we
have a
fuckin
’ musical prodigy in our midst.”

“Sing for us, Jackson.”
A chorus broke out among them.

“Come on, bro, quit
blushing and take your skinny ass to the front and belt out this song you made
us all learn last week in one fucking day.” Jackson flipped Shea off and met up
with Garrick on front stage.

“Nothing about me is
skinny, bro.” He set his guitar on the stand. “I’m so kicking your ass for this
bullshit move. I hate singing for crowds, man,” he said the last for Garrick’s
ears only.

“I know. This is fun
for me.” Garrick handed him the
mic
, then picked up
his guitar.

“This song is about a
boy and a girl, a missed opportunity—Ya’ll know I’m not much of a crooner. I
leave that shit to Garrick.”

“We want Jackson,” the
crowd chanted.

Jackson chuckled into
the
mic
and began Last Chance
.
A song he’d composed about a girl back home who was off limits,
out of his league, and basically too perfect for his bad boy persona. The
lyrics resonated with him, told of a sweet affection harbored for a beautiful
girl. A girl he shouldn’t love, a chance he shouldn’t take, a body he shouldn’t
burn to take. He locked eyes with one of the women in the audience and sang to
her. Years of watching Garrick do the same taught him a thing or two. When the
final strains subsided, he saluted the crowd and shoved the
mic
back in Garrick’s hand ready to get back to playing guitar like he did best.
The ‘We love you Jackson’ chorus felt a bit surreal, if only the one he wrote
the song for heard it.

“Let’s close out.”
Garrick signaled for the final song of the evening. A tribute to their host’s
selfless actions.

Jackson moved off to
the back of the stage, switching out his bass guitar for his acoustic/electric
one. During their version of Toby Keith’s
Courtesy
of the Red, White and Blue
, sung by all of them, the crowd joined in for
the signature lyric. Garrick followed with Greenwood’s
God Bless the USA
, the crowed quieting as slides of their graphics
played on the whitewashed wall behind them. The images changed to pictures of
their family and friends holding up signs signifying how much they were missed and
appreciated. As the final strains of Garrick’s voice tapered off, Jackson moved
in sync with Jimmy toward the middle of the stage.

“Being here has been an
honor. Shea, Jimmy, Jackson and I sincerely, love and support every one of you
out here. We hope to see you back at home rocking out with us at another show.
Be safe. Much love.”

Jackson took a drink of
water wishing for a beer. He moved with his bandmates to pack up their gear.
Garrick stood off to the side conversing with a group of soldiers who were
given access to interview them.

“Jimmy’s already at
it.” Shea shook his head as he finished packing up his kit.

Jackson shrugged.

“Being here has to be
hard on him. Did you notice he wore his brother’s tags, he’s had them on since
we left the states.”

“Yeah. I’m proud of
him, he gave homage to his brother well. Without alcohol he can only get into
so much trouble, be an asshole to the extent of being arrested. Wait, no that’s
you.” Shea smoothed his blue tipped
mohawk
.

“He talk about him
yet?”

“Nah. Not pushing him
to either. Maybe when we get home. Shit’s
gotta
be
eating him alive. Hell it’d do me in.”

“Yeah, death and
dealing with it is a hard pill to swallow.”

 

* * * *

 

“What
in the fuck is this?”

“What?”
They’d only been back at their lodging for an hour and already faced a media
issue, while out of the country. Jackson shrugged on a shirt and ran his hands
over his damp head. To keep up with the sites they checked and fan forums,
showers were done in groups of two for time management, even though there were
enough stalls for them all to take one at the same time. “Shower is free.” He
made his way over to Shea who was staring at their fan site online.

“There
is a lot of talk about Carlie on the board.” Jackson peered over Shea’s
shoulder to check out the comments.

“Let
me sign in on my computer. I’ll see what’s up while you answer fans.”

“Bro,
it’s not good. Just glad Garrick wasn’t on here first.”

“I’ll
help in a few.” Jackson slipped his laptop out of his bag and plugged in. After
booting up, he logged into the band site and used a search engine for Carlie’s
name.

With
her athletic past, multiple pages always came up. He’d kept up with her success
since her junior high years. He waited for the screen to refresh and took a
swig of beer.

Nude
images popped up. Jackson spewed beer out his nose, and then pinched the bridge
to quell the burn.

“What
did you find?” Shea peered over at him. Jackson turned his screen from Shea’s
questioning gaze.

“Just
some pictures of Carlie, I’m reading some celeb status posts right now.”

 

Expelled
from college.
Sorority
Vice President Carlie Stevens hides from media after posing nude during spring
break. Click here for live feed to the sorority girl’s championship mud
wrestling match. No word yet from her famous brother Garrick or her family.

There
has been no trace of the ‘good’ twin sister since her fall from grace. One can
only wonder where she’s holing up.

 

“Where’s
Garrick?” Jackson clicked on the link and watched Carlie’s image come up on the
screen, mud covered in a pit with another chick. Her barely there bikini molded
to her toned body. He knew she was a fitness nut, but damn the girl had some
abs and strength. Transfixed, both he and Shea watched her take down her
opponent without appearing to tax herself.

“Fuck
that’s sexy.”

“Damn,
Jimmy, let someone know you’re behind them.” Jackson blocked the computer
screen from his mates.

“Garrick
left to clean up. Glad he
ain’t
here right now to see
this shit. I mean this is something Carrie would do. Not Carlie.”


Fuckhead
, that’s my woman you’re talking about.” Shea
shoved his chair back.

“Chill
out, bro. You know Carrie was wild as fuck before you tamed her.”

“Fuck,
the boards are insane.
Bossman’s
gonna
blow a stack once he gets a load of this. That’s his baby sister looking like
an adult star.”

Jackson
snarled at Jimmy. “Really? She’s family.”

“Sure
and that’s why your sporting wood…because she’s family. I’m just speaking the
truth. You should admit you’ve wanted to bone her sexy ass for years. Instead
of playing game on her, you clam the fuck up like a virgin getting his first
taste of head.”

“Jimmy,
stop being a dick. C’mon. We have to figure out how to break this gently. We
still got another event before we go home. He won’t be able to crack some heads
or fix this from over here.”

Jackson
laughed.

“I
fail to find the comedy in this situation?” Shea pounded out responses to their
fans about new tour dates and ignored the questions regarding Carlie.

“Come
on. How many times have we all wondered when our perfect princess was going to
fall off the fucking impossible pedestal Garrick and her parents put her on?
What did you all really think?”

“That
you’d fuck her and fall in love.”

“And
that didn’t happen.”

“Because
you
pussed
out and didn’t fuck her. Wouldn’t go
through with her drunken declaration.”


Asshat
, because she deserves more from us than that. I’m
not a complete asshole, you know. So here’s the plan. I’ll swipe Garrick’s cell
phone, and we can make excuses about the laptops not working. Shea log off.”

“I
want a turn.”

Jackson
slapped Jimmy in the back of the head. “No. We can address fans later on. Right
now we work on damage control and containing what little we know of the
situation. I’m going to check my security feeds for my house before our prima
donna brother returns. Never been so glad that fucker takes so long to groom.”

“Done.”
Shea closed the laptop. “He’s not going to believe the world wide net is
broken.”

“He
will if we tell him the internet is hell-a spotty.” Jimmy ran a hand through
his hair. “This is nuts, we should tell him the truth.”

“Tell
him if you want, but I’m not dealing with him in his shit attitude, we’d end up
throwing punches.”

Jackson
snorted and brought up his home. His eyes scanned the various rooms. He’d
stopped in before flying out and swore he turned off the lights. He tapped the
mouse to lead him back to the parking area looking for his housekeeper’s
vehicle and didn’t see her compact car. Thieves didn’t normally keep lights on
and make themselves at home. Intrigued he kept searching for who occupied his
house by opening links to every room in his house. He found nothing until his
eyes fell on a lump in the middle of his bed. Zooming in, he saw Carlie curled
in a ball fast asleep, hugging his pillow. He wondered what she was doing in
his place but at the same time was glad he didn’t have to call the police and
report trespassing.

“Garrick’s
heading this way, bro.” Jackson snapped his head up at Shea’s words. He cleared
his history, signed out and powered down.

“So
we’re in agreement, we’ll deal with the press and this mess when we touchdown
at home?”

“Sounds
like a bad plan to me, but yeah, at least
til
we’re
on the plane heading home.”

“Nothing
like feeling clean, man. This chill is fucking ridiculous.” Garrick dropped
down in an empty chair.

“You
girls ready to go grab some grub?”

Jackson
flipped Garrick off. “I got your girl right here.” He grabbed his dick and
winked.

“Food.
I’m always down for something to eat.” Jimmy rubbed his stomach.

“Let
me just text
Neveah
and ask now my baby is. Then we
can go.”

“Nothing
says I love you like waking up a pregnant woman at four in the morning,”
Jackson said, and slapped Garrick on the back.

His
friend checked his watch and sighed. “Nimrod, its only eight-thirty back home. Damn,
shoulda
called her before we got on stage.”

“Still,
she’s probably asleep. Pregnant women take a lot of naps. Do you want to risk
waking her?”

“Nah,
I guess I’ll call her when it’s morning. She’s gonna be in a mood though, we
don’t go a whole day without talking at least a few times. Two nights ago, I
wasn’t able to call her at all.”

“She
has you by the dick, man. I think she’ll be okay with not speaking to you for
half the day.” Shea chuckled.

“When
was the last time you called Carrie?”

“Before
the show,” Shea muttered under his breath.

“I’m
single for life and Jackson is my wingman. Never leave a brother hanging.”

“Dude,
I’m not your wing man. I fly solo.” Jackson shrugged by Jimmy, leading them
toward the chow hall.

“Bro,
what is your major hang up?” Shea moved behind Garrick.

“Sorry,
programming my watch so I can wake up and call home.”

“Really?
We’re going home after the meet and greet, give it a rest.” Jimmy snatched
Garrick’s phone out of his shirt pocket and tossed it to Shea.

“What
is this, monkey in the middle? Give me my damn phone.” Garrick jostled Shea.

“Dude.
Ya’ll play too much.” Jackson grabbed the smart phone and stuck it in his front
pocket. He winked at Garrick and nodded in acknowledgement to the soldiers
watching them.

“I
don’t have an aversion to fishing for my shit,” Garrick hissed.

“You
might not, but I do.” He nudged his friend as they entered chow hall. His mind
wandered to the exhausted woman lying in his bed, with worry lines etched in
her face. In the morning he’d find a private moment to call his housekeeper and
have her stock the house with fresh produce. If he remembered anything at all,
Carlie kept a strict diet, no processed foods, meat, etc…the boring food, but
damn her athletic build made his dick lurch.

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