Beats (23 page)

He stifles an “oomph!” and readjusts his stance by backing up until the wall catches him. Somehow he manages not to spill a drop of coffee from either cup.

She jabs a thumb his way. “See? Gets ’em every time.”

I tilt my head down and shoot a glance at Toombs. He lifts a brow hopefully.

“You’d like it too much,” I mumble.

A door opens behind us. Jillian squints from the darkness of her room. An unlit cigarette dangles from the corner of her mouth. She looks a bit hungover too, which is hilarious, considering I’ve never even seen her buzzed. “Anybody know anything about Rax getting arrested last night?” She holds up her cell phone.

The four of us say, “What?” in unison.

“Public drunkenness. I gotta go pick him up at the police station on Royal.”

“This is New Orleans. How fucking drunk do you have to be to get arrested for that shit
here
?” Letty’s wide eyes are incredulous.

“Pretty fucking drunk,” Shades says.

“Stupid motherfucker.” Toombs grumbles and stomps off to his room.

“I’ll go with you,” I tell Jillian. I need to speak with Rax alone. And Jillian too.

She scrutinizes me for a long moment and then waves me toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”

As soon as we hit the pavement toward Royal Street, she digs into me. “I don’t know what went on between you, Rax, and Toombs, but I’m sick of this bullshit, Jinx. You do realize we’re set to record an album in three days, right? Three fucking days.”

I can’t see her eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but if her tone is any indication, she’s furious. With good reason. “Rax and Toombs had a falling out over me. But I’m going to set things right. Personally and professionally. I swear to God, I’ll make it rain beats for you when we hit the studio.”

She grunts and looks away.

My thoughts return to Toombs lying under me as I struck him over and over again with my sticks. The blissful expression on his face. The sweet words he said afterward. God, I can’t believe I hit him like that. This morning his chest looked like it had been used for rubber bullet target practice. I wanted to apologize. He wanted a repeat performance.

This new role as Domme has my head swimming. It’s scary as hell, but I also find the prospect…empowering. It’ll take a lot of getting used to and a lot of boundary pushing. But I’m willing to
try
. For Toombs. For us.

We walk in silence for a while until I find the courage to come clean. “I know you’re angry at me for not being able to deliver on the new record. I’m mad at myself. But I had a breakthrough last night. I’m confident I won’t freeze again. If we can get Rax sobered up, I’m willing to rehearse all day, every day, until we start recording.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Jillian says, puffing on her cigarette. She flicks her ashes into the street as her heels
click-clack
on the sidewalk. “Right now, I’m more concerned about Rax’s latest fuck-up. I swear you guys and your goddamn drama are gonna be the death of me.”

“Sorry,” I say. “Is it okay if I speak to Rax alone before we head back to the house? I have some things I need to get off my chest.”

“Fine. Just no more fighting. And he doesn’t need to be in the same zip code as any alcoholic beverages until this record wraps.”

I nod. We climb the steps to the station. She pauses when we reach the door. “You and Toombs, huh?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“You’re much better for him than Rax. That guy is poison.”

I suppose that’s meant to be a compliment…? Hard to tell with Jillian.

“So you knew about the two of them?” I ask.

She gives me a “child, please” look. “Gay-dar. One of my many super powers.” She taps her temple. Jillian comes across as such a hardcore businesswoman, sometimes I forget she must have a life outside of the tour bus. I also forget she’s a lesbian, which doesn’t normally matter, but in this situation, she might have some insight about Toombs I don’t.

I conjure more courage and ask, “You ever been so in love with someone, you’re blinded to all the…uncomfortable stuff that comes along with the package?”

“Who hasn’t?” A faraway smile crosses her lips. Jillian drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with a shoe. “Once upon a time, I was married. He was a great guy. Loved him like crazy. Turned out he was gay. It devastated me, but we remained friends after the divorce. I clung to this image I had of him in my mind—someone he absolutely wasn’t—the person I
needed
him to be.

“We meet for dinner one night about a year after we split, and he says to me, ‘When are you gonna come out?’” Jillian puffs her chest. “What the fuck? Out of nowhere. ‘I’m not the one who’s gay,’ I say, all defensive and pissed off. He just smiles and nods at the waitress, and I realize I’ve been following her ass every time she walks away from the table. ‘Bullshit,’ I call on myself. Bullshit. I’ve been gay ever since.” She laughs.

“What I’m saying here is sometimes the one you love introduces you to the person inside—the real one who you’re so close to, you don’t even recognize her. Sometimes the one you love knows you better than you know yourself. They bring out the best in us when we least expect it.”

Yeah. Jillian’s a smart woman.

I don’t know what kind of person Toombs brings out of me, but Jillian’s absolutely right. This chameleon
does
have an identity of her own. It’s just a matter of finding her true, native color.

“Come on.” Jillian slaps the back of my arm. “We’ve got an asshole to bail out.”

I follow her into the building. As she deals with paperwork, I pull my thoughts together. Things will never be the same between Rax and Toombs, and now me. But I have to try to salvage whatever I can. If it hadn’t been for me, they probably wouldn’t have broken up. It’ll be a delicate balancing act from this point forward. For all of us.

After about an hour’s wait, a police officer walks Rax over.

Jillian lays her hands on her hips and scowls. “You look like frosted shit cookies with a side of rancid milk.”

“Thanks. I feel like a million bucks.” He avoids my gaze. Jillian’s too.

Rax’s battered face is pale where it’s not black, blue, or leaking blood. A crusty brown line splits his cheek in two. His usually gorgeous hair is ratty and matted. His eyes are dull. Broad shoulders deflated. Like he lost his best friend. I feel sorry for him.

“You
owe
me a fucking million bucks. That’s two strikes, buddy. Alcohol poisoning was
numero uno
. Public drunkenness,
numero dos
. One more fuck-up, and you’re out.”

“Yeah, thanks for the lecture, Mom. I got it.” He waves her off.

Jillian gets right up in his personal space and stares him down. “I’m glad you understand. I’d hate to see you lose out on the music deal of a lifetime because you let your childish desires get in the way of good business decisions. Now, we’re going back to the house to work on some new music. You’re gonna clean up and meet us downstairs at noon, wearing your happy face. You’ll be pleasant and attentive. You’ll be eager to work. And you’ll behave yourself. Got it?”

His lip twitches as he stares back. “Yep. I damn sure do got it.”

“Excellent.” Jillian glances at me. “Jinx has a few things she’d like to talk to you about on your walk back, so I’ll see you there.” Without another word, she turns and leaves Rax and me alone.

Awkward silence widens the gap between us. I go for the door, and he follows.

“For once in your life, can you be honest?” I say once we get outside. “No one else has to know what we discuss, but
I
need the truth.”

“About what?”

I walk him away from the building toward some shade under a cluster of trees. “If Toombs hadn’t walked in when he did last night, would you have done it? Would you have…forced me?”

I have to know if Toombs’s loyalty to Rax was misplaced. Deep down, I believe Rax wouldn’t have gone through with it, but if he’s truly the scoundrel he makes himself out to be, I can’t stay in the band with him. I’ll see Toombs on the side—or not at all. Whatever I have to do. But I won’t make music with a rapist.

I’m confident I have nothing to worry about.

Rax doesn’t answer.

My heart sinks. “So, you would have.”

After a long pause, he centers his gaze on me and says, “No. I wouldn’t have forced you. But I wouldn’t have made it easy for you to resist.”

Asshole. I straighten. “If you cared even a
little
about me, you would have respected my boundaries. You’d have left it alone—or at the very least, not interfered—when I said I wanted Toombs and not you. But you only care about number one, don’t you? Rax Wrathbone will knock down anyone who gets in the way of what he wants.”

He looks away and exhales heavily.

“I get it. Underneath the metal and snake scales is a good guy. I believe that. I’m sorry things didn’t go your way, but if you want respect and honesty, you have to give them. Life is a two-way street. If you put up blockades to make it a one-way, you’re pretty much guaranteed to be walking that road alone. Or watching others who are just like you pass by.”

I look down. My hands are shaking. I lay one of them on Rax’s arm. “Toombs is devastated.”

He swallows as if something bitter skunked his tongue. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

I square my shoulders. “What happened is between you two. I’m not interested in playing your romance counselor. If you guys work things out and want me out of the picture, so be it. I’ll respect your wishes. But I doubt Toombs will have anything to do with you until you can be honest. With him and yourself.”

He lowers his head. “Sorry, Jinx.” The mumbled words are so soft, I barely register them.

“Me too.” My nervous hands have nothing to beat. I shove them into my back pockets. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you. And I really appreciate you helping my mom get the job at the bank, but I’ll understand if you change your mind about that.”
Please don’t change your mind.

He presses his lips together as if to hold something explosive inside, and then shakes his head. “I think I’ve done enough damage.”

“Yeah, you have.” I didn’t mean for those words to slip out. I try to tame them with, “And so have I. Sorry I threw a monkey wrench into your relationship, but I care deeply for him. Toombs is worth fighting for.”

He nods. “He is. But I’m done fighting battles I can’t win. He’s all yours.”

“So, you’re going to toss aside years of friendship because of me?” My bottom lip quivers. I bite it to shut it up.

“No. Because of
me
.” There’s the raw honesty Rax so rarely displays. Maybe this realization of how much he hurt Toombs will lead to some kind of redemption for him. He has to see how serious this is.

He and Toombs will have to figure things out. I’m not part of their solution. But I’m also not going down without a fight if it comes to that.

“A sincere apology would go a long way.” I touch the fading bruise I gave his cheek in the hotel, now buried under a fresh one from Toombs. “It did for me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.”

Understanding passes between us. I believe Rax. He has a good heart, but it’s riddled with choking vines of selfishness. He deserves someone who will free him from himself. Just like Jillian said.

“I hope you find happiness, Rax.”

The muscles in his cheek ripple as his eyes dart away, leaving our moment of truth high and dry.

A girl walks by wearing a Killer Buzz Float T-shirt from our show last night. She’s listening to her iPod, head bopping, oblivious to Rax and me. Chills gnaw up my arm.

Holy hell. I’m
somebody
.

Sap time is over. It’s time to grab The Rock by the balls and never let it go.

“Let’s go make some music.”

Beats

Toombs says nothing when Rax and I enter the foyer, but he watches us like a hawk from his perch behind the railing at the top of the staircase. A dark shadow clouds his face. He swoops down, taking the steps two at a time, and crashes into me. Two arms enfold me like great, painted wings.

I flash him a smile that I hope conveys,
Everything’s okay. We’ll talk about this later.

He takes my elbow and leads me away without so much as a careless glance at Rax, who gingerly mounts the stairs like an old man in desperate need of a cane. Or maybe a wheelchair.

“Are you ready to rehearse?” The clipped cadence of Toombs’s voice is sharp as a knife.

“I could ask you the same question,” I say.

“Bring it.” His eyes follow Rax to the landing, a wistful look settling within them. I ache for him. For both of them.

Toombs escorts me to the parlor where Letty lies on the floor, her pretty red hair splayed around her, hand pressed to her head, groaning. “Why’d you let me drink so much, Shades? You bastard.”

Shades shakes his head. “Sorry, pussycat. Just remember, you don’t have to accept
every
dare. That guy last night was twice your size. You lost the bet before the first shot was poured. Though, I gotta admit, you and tequila make a fucking cute couple.”

Sitting on the velvet-upholstered couch, tuning his bass, Shades is totally out of place with his fauxhawk, ear gauges, and unapologetic tattoos against the gentile Southern style of a decadent era long gone.

“Ugh. I’ll remember this, motherfucker. For a really long time.” Letty rolls to her side and curls into a ball.

Even though she tattled on Rax, I feel sorry for her too.

Toombs gestures to the corner. He must’ve set up my kit while I was out. My massive set of Pearl Reference Pure drums waits for me like a black and steel fortress atop a craggy cliff, daring me to climb.

I remember when I decided I wanted these drums. I found out how much they cost and almost crapped myself. My dad told me, “If you want to be a serious drummer, you need quality instruments. You can take the easy route and buy cheap ones now, or you can save your money for a couple of years, and do it right.”

Sure. No pressure.

I’m glad I did it right. Sometimes delayed gratification is a good thing.