Always (11 page)

“Justine.” Rocky gave her a deadpan stare. “Please don’t tell me you’re serious with that shit. This might just be the end of our friendship.”

“Yeah, it will be if you keep being a rock snob. You know how I feel about that.”

They all snickered at her subtle dig at David.

“I like it, too,” Dillon chimed in.

Rocky slammed his hand down on the table hard enough to make his beer jump. “Traitor!”

“Screw you, man,” Dillon laughed. “The hook is good, it’s just the bubble gum vocal you hate. A good voice could rock that song.”

Rocky say back in disgust. “Ain’t no way this song would
ever
rock.”

Justine sat up straight and cleared her throat. “Is that a dare?”

Rocky’s lips curled up in a lazy smile, the metal rings glinting red in the light. He’d look like a lord of the underworld if she didn’t know him so well.

“That’s a challenge, little girl.”

“I
like
the sound of this!” Ash shouted.

She smiled back at Rocky, feeling absolutely fearless. She knew it was mostly liquor, but she didn’t care. For the moment, she had the whole table in the palm of her hand. Ash stood up and reached a hand across the table to her.

“I think that’s your cue to take the stage, Princess.”

“You sure about this, Justine?” Dillon murmured at her shoulder.

She looked down at him as she stood. “Our taste in music has been challenged, Dillon. Of course I’m sure.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Then please proceed.”

She took Ash’s hand and stepped up on the seat, her heel unsteady on the cushion. Ash tightened his grip, tugging her up. Another step and her feet were on the glossy black tabletop. Rocky and Paolo applauded and JD let out a wolf whistle.

“Dillon, count me in on our song?”

His long fingers began to tap the tabletop. “Don’t screw this up, Juss. My musical integrity is on the line here.”

“Your musical integrity? I’m the one about to sing this song standing on a damned table in a bar. I’ll do it proud.”

“You always do.”

“Gimme another shot.”

“Give the woman another drink!” Ash shouted and JD passed his shot up to her. A deep breath, a swallow of fire and she came in on the chorus. At first she closed her eyes, but then she opened them and found Dillon at her feet. He was leaning back in the booth, arms spread across the seat back, his smile as big as she’d ever seen it. She could feel his delight like he’d touched her. She let it light her up, igniting everything she had to stifle when she sang with Failsafe. The power, the sound, everything she knew she could do. It felt amazing.

After the chorus, the hook she and Dillon had defended, she took it up an octave, showing off and ending on a wailing high note. The table erupted in applause. The whole
bar
erupted in applause. The boys were screaming and pounding the table. With a tiny curtsy, she reached out her palm to Rocky. He gave a theatrical shrug and slapped it hard, acknowledging her triumph.

“We’re covering that song tomorrow night,” he told her.

He helped her back down from her perch, laughing along with her when she slipped and nearly crushed him. When she finally collapsed into a breathless giggling heap at his side, Dillon was gone from the booth. Ash was, too. She spotted them several feet away, and a girl was with them, whispering in Ash’s ear. He laughed and nodded. He leaned in to whisper something to Dillon and nodded his head towards the back of the bar.

The laughter died in Justine’s throat. She went silent, knowing perfectly well how this whispered conversation was going down. This girl had something, either drugs or sex, and she wanted to share it with either Ash or Dillon. Maybe both. Any minute they’d disappear for an hour or so, just to show up later, bleary-eyed and freshly-fucked.

All the liquor she’d drunk abruptly turned sour in her stomach. Justine wanted to go home. Not just back to the hotel, but home, back to LA, and forget these months and these boys had ever happened. She was seconds away from shoving her way out of the booth and out of the noisy bar when Dillon looked to the side and met her eyes. For once, she didn’t try to pretend she didn’t notice or didn’t care. She stared back, willing him, just this once, to say no.

An emotion she couldn’t name flickered across his face for an instant. Embarrassment, contrition, an apology—she wasn’t sure, and then it was gone again. Ash slapped his shoulder and tilted his head, inviting, leading him away. Dillon paused for a second and then shook his head. She couldn’t hear what he said, but it looked like “Not tonight.”

Then he turned away and headed back to the booth. The air left Justine’s lungs in a rush. Ash caught up to him a second later. She couldn’t make out the conversation, but it seemed clear Dillon wasn’t up for whatever it was Ash wanted to go do.

“They’re better when you’re around, you know?” Rocky murmured quietly in her ear, too low for anyone else to hear. She startled and turned to face him.

“Who? What do you mean?”

“Ash and Dillon. Ash gets into ten kinds of trouble just walking out the door, and Dillon always goes along with him because… hell, that’s just who they are. The two of them, always. But when you’re around,” Rocky tilted his head towards Dillon, who was weaving through the crowd, making his way back to the table. “He doesn’t always. And if he says no, every once in a while Ash says no, too. So thanks. For what it’s worth.”

She shook her head. “I’m not doing anything. I don’t control them.” Then she gave a bitter little laugh. “Sometimes I think it would be nice if I did, but no. I can’t make them do anything.”

“Dillon respects you. They both do. That’s power, even if…” He trailed off, like he wanted to say something else but didn’t want to cross a line. She knew, though. Rocky was smart and observant. He could tell how she felt about Dillon just looking at her face. She was a little embarrassed at her show of weakness, but if anyone were to know, she was glad it was him.

Finally, she finished his sentence for him. “Even if he never feels for me what I feel for him.”

He turned to her, searching her face with his surprisingly sharp blue eyes. “He’s—” He shook his head and then took a deep breath. “First, you’re too good for pretty much every loser in this outfit. Second, he cares more for you than maybe you realize. It’s just—”

She held up a hand to cut him off. “Yeah, I know. This is not the time or place. There’s no room in his life for that right now.”

He squeezed her shoulders. “Smart girl. You just watch yourself, tough stuff. I don’t want to have to scrape you up off the floor. I will. But I don’t want to.”

She gave him a weary smile, tired of reassuring everyone that she was okay and could take care of herself. Tired, because it wasn’t true and it was too late. “Don’t you worry about me. You just look out for them.”

He swiveled his head to look back at Ash, still chatting up the girl, not as ready to give up on whatever escape she offered as Dillon had been. “I’m doing my best. He doesn’t make it easy.”

Justine wanted to ask him how bad it really was. How close to the edge did Ash go? Was it really under control, just a bunch of boys having fun or were they in real danger? But Dillon slid into the booth next to her and she couldn’t. When Rocky looked back a second later, all his intensity was gone, he was their happy, laid-back friend again.

“You killed it, just like I knew you would,” he said. He was all smiles and bright eyes, like the conversation with Ash and the mystery girl didn’t just happen two minutes and twenty feet away. Justine wasn’t in the mood to pretend anymore tonight, though.

“Who’s your new friend?” she asked, tipping her chin up at the girl, still talking to Ash.

Dillon waved a hand at them, but didn’t look. “Just some girl. A fan. She wanted to hang out.”

“Huh. Looks like Ash is game.”

“Ash is always game.”

“But not you, huh?” She didn’t know what was up with her, why she was pushing this when it was clear Dillon wanted to leave it alone.

“Not tonight.”

“Right. Not tonight.”

All it meant to her was that while he wouldn’t break her heart tonight, it was only a matter of time before he did it again.

May, 2008

When she spotted Justine weaving through the crowd, Emily shrieked and started pushing aside people much bigger than she to get to her sister. Justine saw her at the same moment and began rushing towards her, too. They met in the middle, surrounded by the usual backstage hangers-on.

“You were amazing!” Emily folded her into a fierce hug, rocking her back and forth.

“Thanks. Did you guys have good seats?”

“Oh my, God! The best!”

Their parents had caught up to them by now, being much more polite about forcing their way through the crowd. Emily released her to her mother’s waiting arms.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of you,” Justine’s mother hugged her and then leaned back to stroke her hair out of her face. “I cried! I said I wasn’t going to cry and I cried.”

“She cried,” her father chimed in. “I knew she would.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He opened his arms for the next hug. “Hi, baby. You were magnificent.”

Unexpectedly, Justine felt her eyes well with tears. Over three months on the road cavorting with rock stars and industry bottom-feeders and a hug from her dad was all it took to bring her to tears.

They were playing San Francisco, which was close enough to Sacramento to feel like a hometown gig for Justine. Her parents had driven in and she got them, along with Emily, seats in the VIP section. It was only the love and support she had from her family that let her be as fearless as she seemed to be out in the world. They were the safe place she could run to when she was tired of being tough.

They were just discussing driving back to the hotel together for drinks when strong arms closed around her waist and Justine was lifted up off the floor.

“Hey, sexy girl!” Ash shouted, bouncing her up and down in his arms.

She slapped at him in annoyance. “Ash! Put me down! These are my
parents
!”

In an instant, she was on the ground again and Ash was completely sober. Well, as sober as he could be when he was likely anything but.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. James.”

Justine laughed. “Jesus, relax. They’re not those kind of parents. Ash, this is my mom, Marietta, and my dad, Tom. Mom and Dad, this is Ash. You saw him perform tonight.”

Marietta James reached out with both hands to grasp Ash’s, shaking it enthusiastically. “So nice to finally meet you. You were just wonderful.” Marietta was over fifty, but with her wavy blond hair and her thin, bird-like frame, she seemed much younger.

“Fine performance,” Tom James chimed in. His dark hair was thinning, but Justine’s bright eyes and animated face were inherited from him, as was her impressive height.

“And this is my sister, Emily.”

Ash’s eyes flickered with interest. “You have a sister?”

Justine pinched his arm. “Behave. She’s way too good for you.”

“I’ll decide that,” Emily laughed, but she gave Ash’s hand nothing more than a casual shake. She’d heard enough about Ash’s backstage antics from Justine to cure any minor celebrity crush she might have once had.

“Did you all enjoy the show?” Ash asked, putting on his very best manners.

“We did,” Marietta enthused. “We’re so proud of Justine.”

Ash smiled broadly at her. “You should be. She’s very talented.”

“Nice to see more people than me saying so,” Emily said.

“She’s a genius.” Justine spun around at Dillon’s quiet interjection. He’d appeared behind Ash while the introductions were happening.

“Oh! Mom and Dad, this is Dillon. Dillon, this is my mom and dad, and this is Emily, my sister.”

Emily thrust her hand out towards Dillon before her parents could. “Nice to meet you, Dillon. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dillon raised his eyebrows at Justine. “Is that so?”

She grinned and ducked her head.

“Yeah, seems my sister thinks
you’re
the one who’s a genius.”

“Emily!”

“What? You’re his biggest fan. No harm in him knowing it.”

Emily cast Dillon a look that held a message, or maybe a warning, if he didn’t know better. But then she smiled and the moment was gone.

“We were going to head back to the hotel for a nightcap. You boys care to join us?”

“Dad, I’m sure the guys—”

Ash slung his arm around Justine’s shoulders, cutting her off. “We would
love
to, Mr. James.”

“Good, good. And you just call me Tom. None of that Mr. James business.”

She turned to Dillon and murmured, “You don’t have to. If you have plans.”

He smiled at her and tucked his hands in his pockets. “No, it’s good.”

She smiled back. “Good. Because I want you to come.”

Half an hour later, they were ensconced in a large red-upholstered booth at the bar in the lobby of her parents’ hotel. Ash was telling a story, a crazy incident with an uptight hotel clerk in Des Moines. It involved a lot of shouting and waving his arms. Emily and her parents were laughing uproariously. Justine and Dillon were more subdued, since they’d actually been there for the traumatic incident of Ash’s underwear and the concierge, and it had been considerably less funny at the time.

“Your parents are great,” Dillon whispered.

“Just parents. Nothing so special about them.”

He turned to look at her. “They’re here for you. And they obviously adore you. It’s pretty special, in my opinion. Rare, too.”

Justine remembered the little he’d told her about his childhood, how rough it had been. Compared to him, she had to acknowledge her childhood was pretty idyllic. He watched her parents with something like reverence on his face, and it made her heart hurt.

“So you’re from Sacramento. How did Justine land in LA?” he asked when Ash stopped for breath.

“Well, Justine always sang,” Marietta began. “She sang before she talked. Remember, Tom, the way she’d sing along to the radio when we were driving in the car? She couldn’t say words yet, so she’d just open her little mouth and make all these sounds like on the radio.”