His Ex-Boyfriend Page 6

  Rafe paled. In the last moments of life left, he snarled at his companion. "Why? Why are you doing this to me, you scumbag?"

  "What's wrong? Aren't you having fun?" Jason asked in ironic tones.

  As they roared down, Rafe lost all control. He threw his arms around Jason in a painful hug and screamed his lungs out against the guitarist's chest. At the bottom, he moaned, "Why? Why?"

  "Because you scared the crap out of me with that sword a couple of days ago. Second, because I want something from you. We're not getting off unless I get it. I've paid the attendant a heck of a lot of money, and he's not stopping this ride until I signal him with my arm."

  Rafe stared. "You son of a bitch--" The student's eyes fixed on another approaching drop. "Oh MY GOD, YAAUUUUUUGH!"

  Alexis was leaning against the chain-link fence, staring upwards with incredulity. "Carl? Could you explain Jason to me? Sam, do you have any insight? Why is he being so stupid?"

  The manager shook his head. "Jason's the sort of guy you'd want in your foxhole if you had to go to war. He doesn't give up easily."

  "I don't understand," Alexis said. “Why is he still chasing Rafe? He may not care for my happiness, but he's risking that of his wife and daughter. What does it take to bring the idiot to his senses? Doesn't he know Rafe is going to hate him for this? That fool North can't even court correctly."

  Jason was having trouble breathing. Rafe's panicked hug was murderous.

  "Okay, okay," Rafe said, white-lipped. "I apologize for waving the fucking sword, asshole. Now, what else did you want? YAAARRRGH!"

  “This is interesting. Why are your arms around me? You could have held onto the bar."

  "Because you're there, dammit! Oh, God, here comes another." Rafe buried his face against Jason's chest. “What the fuck else do you want?”

  “A kiss."

  "What?" The student's eyes narrowed angrily.

  "That's why we're here. I want that kiss you never gave me. We're not getting off this ride until I get it."

  The reply was so faint that Jason nearly missed it. He felt the vibrations of Rafe's voice against his breastbone, saying, "Why didn't you ask me on the ground, you stupid motherfucker?" The student lifted his head. His dive was so savage he almost sliced Jason's lips open with his teeth. He bored his way into his ex-boyfriend's mouth with a freneticism born of stark terror.

  Wow, thought Jason. I should have asked him for one earlier. This is amazing.

  Rafe broke off, gasping.

  "Hey. Why'd you quit? We just started."

  "Because I need to scream, dammit! AAAUUUUGHH!"

  "Would you loosen up a little? You're about to suffocate me."

  "Please, for the sake of God, stop this ride," Rafe begged. "I've hit my absolute limit. PLEASE, Jason."

  "Not yet. I want another kiss. You broke off prematurely."

  "Jason, no." Rafe ground his face against the guitarist's chest. "No more. I CAN'T STAND THIS ANY LONGER."

  "What's the matter? Aren't you enjoying this, Mister-Addicted-To-Thrills? You didn't balk at having sex with Alexis in the House of Mirrors."

  "You saw that?" Rafe asked, aghast.

  "Yes! Exactly as Mellor intended. He couldn't have marked his territory more obviously if he'd pissed down your leg."

  Rafe averted his face, though he did not relinquish his hold. "This is just great. We're having a lover's quarrel, and we're not even lovers."

  "Give me a kiss, my ex-boyfriend," Jason demanded. "You don't get off until I'm satisfied."

  Rafe met his eyes. "That'll be forever, then," he said quietly. "All right. I'm applying the emergency brake!" A hand clamped down on Jason's crotch, and squeezed like a pair of pliers.

  Jason screamed. Frantically, he tried to shove Rafe off, but the student had a death grip.

  "Wave your arm!" Rafe howled. "Do it!"

  Jason waved. They rolled along the last straightaway and came to a halt. Rafe let go, ripped off his harness, and vaulted out of his seat. He was leaping over the chain enclosure before Jason had even unclenched his teeth.

  After the initial shock of pain began to die, the guitarist noticed he had company. Alexis was standing beside him, head tilted to one side, his expression bemused. "I was going to do something awful to you," said the singer conversationally, "but I see Rafe's already done it for me. Gee, that must have hurt."

  Jason's reply, intended to be vicious and profane, was an incoherent gurgle of agony.

  Alexis leaned over. "This round to me, North. It's time for you to leave the ring before you destroy yourself."

  The singer walked away. When he could move, Jason levered himself out of the seat, doing his utmost to avoid the eyes of the people waiting in line. Never did he feel more thankful for his sunglasses than now. The embarrassment was hideous. He wobbled over to his friends and tried to ignore their stares.

  "Are you all right?" Alexis asked Rafe.

  "No," Rafe whimpered. Alexis hugged him.

  The guitarist lowered his head. I blew it, he thought somberly. Mellor's a creep, but I was even worse.

  He felt an indescribable sadness, and realized he was mourning, letting himself feel now what he refused to feel after they'd broken up. He was mourning a relationship that should have gone right, but hadn't. It never should have started with a nihilistic drunk, because things never improved from there. It was my fault for not taking him seriously, because I 'always knew I'd end up with a girlfriend.'

  He felt guilt for his own part, sorrow for Rafe's, and now he understood it was guilt that was making him chase after Rafe again, as much as lust. Part of him insisted he must make the relationship work again, to make it right.

  "Rafe. I'm sorry."

  Carl's cell phone played the opening notes of Alexis's latest single, and the manager answered it. "Hello? The hospital, you say? Thanks. I'll take him there.”

  "So you've recovered?" Rafe sneered. "It would have hurt less if you hadn't been as hard as a rock. I felt that."

  "Let me apologize," Jason begged.

  "Goddammit," Rafe flared. "It's been two years. Why the hell haven't you learned?" He left Alexis's arms and faced Jason with a furious expression.

  "Jason?" Carl interrupted. "Malcolm just called. Your wife's gone to the hospital and is in labor right now. You need to leave."

  "Just a moment," the guitarist replied. He grabbed Rafe's shoulders and pulled him close for one brief touch of their lips. It was a kiss of apology, not at all sexual, but Rafe shied away from it like a deer, twisting out of Jason's grasp in wild surprise.

  "I don't believe it," Alexis said wearily. He raised his voice. "North! GO TO YOUR WIFE."

  "Hi, guys!" Denny yelled. "Whoa! I finally found you. Lang's gone home in a taxi, and you should have heard his mouth. He was running off about Alexis--"

  "Sorry, Denny," Alexis interrupted.

  "Huh?"

  "Be ready for anything, Carl. I'll take Mr. Bunny, and you keep an eye out for Rafe. He has his tracker on."

  "Wait a minute, what are you planning? You are not going to hurt Jason, or any other member of Mullerin, do you hear me?" Carl shouted angrily. “I'm already pissed off with you enough as it is for that knife bullshit.”

  "What's going on?" Denny asked.

  Before anyone could react, Alexis whipped off Denny's blonde wig and cap, and snatched away Jason's sunglasses. "Everybody look!" Mellor yelled, "It's Denny Dinkel and Jason North of Mullerin! C'mon, they're right here!"

  "Oh shit," said Jason, watching the news fly through the crowd.

  “Uh--,” said Denny.

  A mob began to surge forward, and a hundred hands reached out.

  Chapter 7

  "A riot?" Jason scoffed to Amanda on her hospital bed as he fed her another chip of ice. "Where'd you hear that? It wasn't a riot."

  Leila was sleeping in a crib next to her mother, dozing under a blanket. The fans had been generous with flowers, and the maternity room looked like an arboretum. In one corner was a mo
untain of empty gift boxes, topped with a bale's worth of baby clothes. Fans had donated enough toys to fill a nearby playpen all the way up to its clown mobile. A few fans had also sent hate mail to Amanda. Though these letters had been screened out, it still bothered him that anyone, even a rabid fan, despised his wife enough to harass her.

  "But if it wasn't a riot, what was it?" Amanda asked.

  "Only the usual crowd. Denny passed out a few souvenirs, and we left. It was nothing."

  "What sort of souvenirs?"

  "Oh, ah, just some scraps of his clothes. Fans drool over silly things like that, and Denny was in a generous mood. Excuse me a sec."

  Jason coughed violently.

  "Run for the parking lot, you boneheads!" Carl yelled. Everyone fled. Alexis seized Rafe's arm, but instead of following Carl, Mellor chose to head for the cover of a restaurant. Jason dithered, trying to see where they were going, only to be propelled forward by his manager. "Get going, North!"

  A pair of fangirls had caught Denny by his clothes, and the singer was frantically trying to shake them loose.

  "Hang on, Denny!" Jason yelled. "I'll be there in--"

  He was too late. Mercifully, Denny was able to escape.

  "Why does a guy go to the trouble of wearing a skirt, but not anything underneath it? I'm really curious, here," Carl asked Jason as they tore along the pavement after Denny and Sam.

  The guitarist took one appalled look behind and ran faster. The fangirls were fighting over Denny's skirt and blouse like wolves over a piece of meat.

  "God only knows," Jason panted. "Oh, lord, this must be the most embarrassing escape in Mullerin history."

  "Nah, this one doesn't even make the top ten list, yet. Sam! Be a gentleman and give Denny your shirt. It should be long enough. Sam! Stop laughing, dammit."

  "Really?" said Amanda. "That was thoughtful of him. You must not have had any of your Mullerin memorabilia on hand to give away."

  "Uh-huh." Jason busied himself with arranging Leila's blanket.

  "Were there any other problems? I worry about you a lot, you know."

  "No. Nothing else. The fans were pretty civilized."

  "Okay, we're going to die." Sam covered his eyes.

  “The parking lot is just ahead! Keep going!” Carl tossed Sam his keys and yelled, “Head for the car and get out of here! Jason and I will decoy them!”

  “We will?” Jason screeched.

  "My chopper's here. Right now the important thing is getting you to the hospital."

  Oh, yeah. I'd almost forgotten. Running for your life is sort of distracting, Jason reflected as he clambered over the parking lot fence after Carl.

  Leila breathed quietly in her crib, unaware of messy things like fathers and rock bands and riots.

  "What's that on your neck?" Amanda asked. "It looks like a hickey."

  Jason's hand flew upwards, fingering the welt. "Rabid fangirl bite," he said after furious thought. "They were pretty civilized, except one. She bit me, and Carl hauled her off."

  Amanda eyed him. Sheepishly, Jason tried to smile. He was too well-versed in the art of the connubial lie for his own taste, but there were many things about his rockstar life that bothered her.

  "I'm glad I didn't know about it while I was in labor, or I would have gone crazy." She blushed. "Or rather, crazier than I did."

  "Forget about that. You were under the influence."

  "I think I mostly have. I was so doped up. But why didn't you tell me you were playing at the fair? Do you know how scared I was when the contractions started, and I couldn't find you? Why didn't you have your cell phone on? I was lucky I had Malcolm's phone number."

  "I'm sorry, honey, but Carl screwed up the schedule and forgot to tell us we were going until the last moment, and you know I always turn my cell off for gigs.”

  She reached for the hickey on his neck. Her finger paused before contact and withdrew, as if she couldn't make herself touch such a poisoned spot. "Sometimes I wish you didn't have any fans at all. They'll hurt you one day."

  Jason shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

  A slight flicker crossed her face. "I also wish Carl Kilburn wouldn't get you into so much trouble."

  This use of Carl's full name irked Jason. He knew Amanda only did this to people she didn't like. I can't tell her to lay off Carl because Carl saved my life. That would mean I'd been in danger. And I definitely can't tell her what he said to me later.

  "What is it with parking lot attendants and helicopters?" Carl asked. "They always complain. Scatter some money, Jason. Maybe he'll stop yelling and waving his fist. So what if I took a handicapped spot? It was the only one wide enough for a chopper. Hey, what the hell's this under the wipers? A ticket? You've got to be kidding me."

  Jason tossed the contents of his wallet out onto the parking lot pavement. The speed of their ascent was so swift that it made the guitarist turn white. "I can't believe you thought of bringing a helicopter."

  "Just good management, though I'm tempted to shoot the asshole who gave me this ticket. Jesus, it's for a thousand dollars. Hey, wait a minute, they can't fine me for violating airspace. That's not a street cop's jurisdiction. And I am not a public nuisance."

  The guitarist bit his lip as the helicopter tilted to ease between a tree limb and a power line. "Carl? Do you remember a stupid remark I made about your 10 percent? I didn't mean it."

  "Thanks."

  They began to cruise over the city, giving Jason a better view of Los Angeles than he cared to have.

  "Could you--"

  "Call to see if Rafe's okay and Alexis's dead?"

  Jason blew out a long breath. "No. Well, maybe. That's an ugly way of putting it."

  "But it's what you were thinking. Alexis's already signaled me on my beeper. They're okay."

  Jason sighed.

  "Do you mind if I speak plainly?"

  "Go ahead."

  Carl hesitated a moment, then said, "When you hear rumors that someone you know is bisexual, you tend to think, eh, those are just rumors. He's married to a woman, so it can't be true. But when you see this guy acting the way you do around Rafe, you realize you never knew this guy at all, though you considered him a good friend, and thought he felt the same way about you."

  "Were you surprised?" The question was biting.

  Instead of answering, Carl asked, "So you're bi, I take it?"

  "Not really. I like women most of the time. Rafe's the only man who's ever managed to walk into the messy equation known as Jason's psyche."

  Carl frowned. "That's strange. If you can be attracted to one guy, normally you have the potential to be attracted to another. Was he the only guy you were ever interested in, or was he the only one you ever tried for?"

  Jason lolled backwards, pained. He didn't want to answer, but felt he owed Carl an explanation. His manager had just saved his life, after all. "The latter. After we broke up, I went directly to Amanda, so there wasn't room for experimentation."

  "I'm not judging you or anything," Carl assured him. "I just wanted to know whether you'd ever felt anything for any other--wait a sec, my cell's going off." After listening a moment, the manager handed the phone across. "It's your wife. Get ready for a landing."

  The hospital roof was only a few hundred yards away. "Wait a minute. That's their landing pad. We're not supposed to use it."

  "You see any other place we can touch down?"

  Jason rolled his eyes and held the phone to his ear. A rush of noise came at him, and at first he thought it was static. Then he realized it was the sound of crying.

  "Amanda? It's all right, honey. I'm arriving at the hospital. I'll be with you in a minute."

  He could hear the noise of doctors, the beeping of machines, and a nurse trying to soothe a woman's frightened sobs.

  "You fucking bastard. Why aren't you here? I've had our daughter, and you weren't even fucking here." Her voice was foggy from the anesthetics. She hung up on him.

  Carl took the cell phone from the g
uitarist's limp hand. "We're down," he said gently. Neither man moved. Gradually, the copter blades slowed. "I heard her.”

  Jason was staring at his lap. "Have you ever tried to do something you knew was important, only to fail utterly?" His voice was almost too faint to be heard.

  "Only when I was a kid. The military taught me how to focus on a goal and pursue it relentlessly. You have the same trait, or you wouldn't have made a success with Mullerin. Your problem, if I may be frank, is that you don't know whether your goal is worth pursuing in the first place. Your heart isn't in what you're doing, Jason.”

  The guitarist unlatched his seatbelt and swung open the helicopter door.

  "Wait. Listen. I can save a man's life," Carl paused for emphasis, "but I cannot make myself love where I don't. Think about that."

  Jason understood, but his sense of honor rejected the conclusion. As he rose to leave, the other man caught his arm. “Look. Don't attempt the impossible because you're too proud to admit you failed. It's not worth the misery.”

  Slowly, the guitarist pulled away. "Thanks for getting me out of that riot. I know you mean well with your advice." He jumped down to the landing pad, and his lips move silently. But I can't listen to it.

  "What?"

  "I said I'll call you later." He began a despondent walk, heading over to the rooftop elevator.

  "Likewise, it's just as hard to make yourself stop loving where you do," said Carl softly to himself. He watched Jason disappear into the elevator and shook his head.

  Chapter 8

  “Don't forget to make the plane reservation for me. My parents can't wait to see Leila. I wish you were going along.”

  “Ye--ah,” said Jason slowly. “But we've got to finish recording the album. I can't interrupt that. Remember, I'll see your parents at Christmas.”

  "Would you ever consider retiring early if we've saved up enough money?" Amanda asked from her hospital bed. She was looking at a nursing pamphlet and making faces. "Breast pumps? Bra pads for leakage? Oh, gross. Is it too late to trade genders with you?"