Image of You (3 page)

She grinned. "Get me an autograph will you?"

"Of course." I lugged the guitar to the door of the apartment and out onto the stairs. I was going to need a cab. There was no way I was carrying Matt Henley's prized guitar on the bus...

***

Finally making it to the Monkey House I sighed with relief. At least I wasn't late. Pulling the badge that Brody had made up for me that day I flashed it to the doorman. He looked me up and down before taking the badge and insisting on running it past his manager.

I was brought into a smaller office up a set of stairs and there I sat waiting for someone to tell me what the problem was. When the manager finally arrived he took one look at me and smiled.

"You represent Matt?"

"Yes." I stood, my shoulders automatically hunching with tension.

"I find that hard to believe. We've tried contacting the Broadside Agency but we can't get through... I'd like to believe you... You look like a nice person and everything... But..." He paused as his gaze dropped to my exposed cleavage. I folded my arms over my chest obscuring the view.

"No way such a wholesome girl like you is repping Matt..."

I tried to let the insult wash over me, the little voice in my head chanted that I should just let it go. He wasn't wrong. I didn't look like the type to be Matt's personal assistant. In fact I was all wrong for the job. But it didn't change the fact that I was.

"Look just call Matt. Ask him."

The manager smiled. "We don't make a habit of bothering our clients, especially just before a gig. And anyway, if you really are who you say you are, can't you call him?"

Whipping the phone from my pocket I dialled the number that Matt had left as his contact information. The phone rang once twice and finally a groggy voice answered.

"Yeah..."

"Matt, it's Kat... Small problem."

"What problem?" His voice had suddenly become more alert and I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been sleeping.

"The manager of the Monkey House won't let me up to your dressing room. Say's I don't look the part..."

Matt swore on the other end of the phone. "Put him on."

I handed the phone to the manager, a smug smile on my face as I watched the colour drain from his. When he handed the phone back to me, I could imagine what he would say once I hung up.

"Sorted, come on up." The phone went dead and I flipped it shut.

"I'm so sorry. If I had realised... Really I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know. If there is anything I can do..."

I didn't answer him as I picked the guitar up and made my way past him. His apologies followed me up the stairs as I searched for Matt's dressing room. When I finally found it I struggled to open the door without dropping the instrument.

Finally pushing the heavy fire door open I almost dropped the guitar. Matt lay sprawled across a couch, the empty bottle of whiskey that lay on the floor beside him was bad enough. But the fact that he was naked was what really threw me for a loop.

I staggered into the room and the grin he gave me was lopsided. His eyes were unfocused as though he was watching me through a haze that only he could see.

"Are you alright? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I feel great..." His words were slurred and suddenly everything clicked into place.

"You're drunk."

"Not drunk, Kitty Kat... Finally chill."

I stared at him in dumbstruck disbelief. He was due to go onstage in less than two hours. The state he was in right now, there was no way he would even make it onto the stage, let alone perform.

The sound of a woman's voice moaning softly had me staring around the room. Cautiously I picked my way over the discarded clothes and empty bottles to the edge of the couch Matt lay across. The woman was sprawled across the floor. She was at least partially clothed and for that I was grateful at least.

"Kitty Kat, meet Hannah... Or Anna... I'm not sure it sounded like one of those."

Anger bubbled up within me as I stared down at the girl at my feet. She was stupid. In fact stupidity didn't even cover what she was. To leave herself so open and vulnerable was asking for trouble.

"Get up!" My voice seethed as I grabbed her shredded t-shirt and flung it at her.

"Kitty Kat, chill out, you need a drinky too." Matt's head lolled as he grinned up at me from his perch on the couch. He tried to move his legs slipping beneath him, refusing to hold him upright. He dropped to his knees the sound of glass crunching making my stomach flip.

"Shit!" I muttered as I tried to help him back up from the floor. A large chunk of a whiskey bottle was embedded in his knee. He stared at the glass, as the blood welled up around it and trickled down his leg.

The girl stood on legs that were unsteady. Her eyes were glassy and a faint trace of white powder was still visible on her upper lip. It was a mess. A huge mess, and I had allowed it to happen. If she was taking drugs, it only seemed logical that Matt probably was too.

Hurriedly picking my way to the door I hollered down the stairs. "I need someone up here, and bring some bandages!"

One of the bouncers appeared followed by the manager. Within seconds the small dressing room was filled with people.

"Right put her in a cab. Please try to keep the press from seeing her. Just get her home." I gestured to the girl who was standing over by a table attempting to pull something from her bag. Two of the bouncers immediately jumped into action, lifting her bodily from the room.

I knelt by Matt and pressed a towel below the cut, my fingers shaking as I pulled the lump of glass from the wound. The moment it was clear the blood flowed faster soaking into the white towel and turning it a grisly colour.

"He's going to need stitches." I turned to the manager.

He nodded and looked a little worried. "He's due to perform in two hours. IT's booked out."

"He'll have to cancel. He can't go on like this..."

The manager blustered his face changing colour from red to purple. A vein appeared in his neck. It hopped in time with the flow of his blood.

"You can't just cancel. It doesn't work like that."

I ignored him as Matt stared down at me. His eyes had become a little more focused. A combination of blood loss and pain.

"Kitty Kat, I can't cancel. We both know that."

The look of pain in his eyes had nothing to do with the physical pain he was feeling. This pain came from deep within. And for one instant I saw something within him that called to the secrets within me. I understood the need to forget. Wanting to bury yourself in alcohol, anything to help you forget. It was something I understood only too well. And I wished I didn't.

"I'm so sorry." The words came out in barely a whisper and only I heard them. But then they were only for me. A moment passed between us as I knelt on the floor by his feet.

"He needs a doctor. Stitches. If I can sober him up before the gig then fine, it'll go ahead. But if he's not fit for it then my client will not be performing. No matter what he says to the contrary."

The manager smiled and rubbed his hands together. "No problem, whatever you need. You just tell my boys and they'll get you whatever you require. But you better do your part Miss Faulkner. Matt has to perform. Make sure he's able to."

I nodded and returned my attention to Matt. The blood had started to soak through the towel. My hands were stained red and my brain automatically reacted. There was something wrong. Something more that I wasn't seeing.

"Matt, what have you taken?"

"Just the usual, nothing weird." His voice still held an edge of slurring but that was starting to fade. His skin had taken on a nasty hue and beads of sweat were beginning to form across his forehead. He was losing far too much blood for something as simply as a cut knee. It didn't make sense.

Gesturing to one of the bouncers to push the towel against Matt's legs I stood. Matt's hand frantically clung to my arm, and as I stared down into his frightened eyes something twisted inside me. I wanted to help him. There was something terribly vulnerable about him. And it worried me.

"Matt, I need to call an ambulance. We can't wait for a doctor." I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, dragging it out my fingers shook as I typed in the emergency number.

"Whoa, this isn't what we agreed." The manager's voice cut across me as I spoke to the emergency operator.

I didn't even look at him as I gave her the address and a rundown of the situation. Once I'd hung up I tried to move back to Matt but the manager had other ideas. Grabbing my arm he twisted it hard enough to make me yelp in pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded as he pinned me against the grubby wall of the dressing room.

"We had an agreement. You changed the rules. Matt will play here tonight."

I tried to shake him off me but his grip tightened threateningly. "I don't think so. Matt is going to the hospital. He needs professional treatment, and not just some on call doctor. He's losing too much blood. Just look at him. Do you really want him to die here? All because you want him to play a gig?"

The manager glanced back over his shoulder. The guard was attempting to help Matt pull his clothes back on, it was a struggle neither of them seemed particularly adept at.

"You owe me for this. When he walks out of here tonight and I have to cancel that gig you're going to owe me... And I'll call that debt in whenever I feel like it. Got it?" He gripped my face with his hands and shoved me away. I stumbled, barely keeping my balance as I tripped over the debris.

Crouching back down at Matt's side I examined the wound. All I could hope was that it simply required stitches. But there was something about the blood loss that had me concerned.

"Matt, you need to tell me what you've taken."

"I don't remember... I had a drink..." He paused and gazed off into the distance, his eyes gradually becoming more and more unfocused.

"Matt! You need to remember you did more than have a drink?"

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs had me releasing a sigh of relief. The paramedics made their way into the room and immediately began assessing the situation.

"What's he taken?"

I gestured to the empty bottles on the floor. "Other than alcohol, I don't know. But there's something not right. He's lost far too much blood."

The paramedic moved past me. Their questions to Matt being repeated over and over. His colour had gotten even worse, and sweat had soaked through the white t-shirt he wore.

The paramedics helped him to the door and then down the stairs. I followed behind, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling as the manager watched us leave.

Once in the ambulance, Matt took a turn for the worse. His blood pressure falling rapidly as he lost consciousness. The only thought that ran through my mind as I held his hand all the way to the hospital was that he couldn't die. I couldn't let him slip away. It was irrational. I barely knew him, and just hours before I had been cursing his very existence. But now. Now something had changed. I had seen something in him. Something that called to me, and I wasn't willing to let that go. Not until I could understand it.

Chapter Four

I woke cold and cramped on a sofa in Matt's private room in the hospital. The machine bleeped softly telling me his heart was still beating. Cringing I unfolded myself from the couch and stretched. My body felt as though I had just gone ten rounds with a professional boxer. I missed my bed. But for some reason I hadn't been able to leave him.

"You're awake." His voice caught me unawares and I jumped.

"So are you? How do you feel?"

"Like I just had my stomach pumped, whilst being run over with a truck."

I laughed and ran my hands back through my dark hair. "It's just all fun and games when you're a rock star."

He laughed a little and then cringed, his face taking on a sheepish look. "About last night..."

I cut him off, lifting my hand in an attempt to silence him. "You don't need to tell me anything. All that matters is getting you better."

"Yeah, so I can go back out there and do it all again." His voice was filled with despair.

I scrubbed my face with my hands before standing and making my way to the edge of the bed.

"If you're so unhappy, then why do it?"

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. It was purely bitter. "No choice. I signed a contract. Ain't no getting out of that. Not until I've served my time."

"If the contract is that bad, then why did you sign it? It doesn't make any sense?"

Matt laughed again and shrugged. "Nope. What does it matter anyway?"

His cool dismissal made me angry and I stood a little straighter. "Well you need to get rid of the girls who do drugs. There is nothing smart about that. Alcohol is bad enough. But drugs are something else. You need to stop."

A dark look crossed his face before it was gone. He smiled up at me, "You jealous of the girl last night, Kitty Kat?"