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16.Wake Up Call

Here I Go Again // Whitesnake

My eyes open seconds after I register the tapping sound as a knock on the door, rapidly increasing in volume.

"Jacob, are you in there? Is Char with you? Open up." Zack's voice on the other side of the door sounds exasperated.

Yeah, man. Same. I'm not thrilled about the interruption.

"It's locked?" Char asks, voice still laced with sleep. The sound of it makes me want to pull her closer and snuggle in. We're tangled together in the most relaxing way. I could seriously spend all of my time with her like this.

"Well, yeah." I kiss her cheek. "Privacy."

She scoffs. "We didn't need privacy. Didn't even come close to using it."

I eye her, brow raised in suggestion. The interpretation is up to her. "We came closer than you think."

She pushes me from her, but there's no force in the action. She doesn't really want me gone.

"Anyway," she says, dragging out the word. "We can't hide from the world forever. Let Zack in."

"Speak for yourself. I could hide all day." Especially with her, like this.

"I need to get back to work." Char sits up and pushes my leg off her. The covers are still in a heap on the floor, so I ended up being her blanket.

"I need more of this view." I watch her ass sway unabashedly as she walks to the door.

Char's looks back at me over her shoulder, sultry and hot as fuck. "Shut it, party boy."

I wink. Can't help myself. The tide has turned between us. I feel it. Char's never been so unguarded with me. I love it. I need more.

Char pulls the door open to a frazzled looking Zack. He glances past her to where I'm still lying on the bed, sheets and blankets in a pile on the floor. I'm sure it looks like we had a wild time in the sack. I smirk, not caring what Zack thinks. In fact... I throw my arms behind my head, the picture of casual satisfaction just for the fun of it.

"A little sense of urgency would be nice. We've got a situation."

I sit up. "Something else happened?" What could be worse than the asshat showing up the way he did?

"No, same thing. We had issues removing the offending party, but Clinton took care of it."

"How?" I'm out of the bed and walking toward the doorway making the needed adjustments to my disheveled clothing. I'm not even hiding the fact that both Char and I did in fact have all our clothes on when she opened the door. Kind of wrecks the hot sex impression I was going for.

"Clinton has his ways." Zack has a look in his eye I've only seen once before, and I can't put my finger on when that was.

"He pound Curt or what?"

Zack gives a slow shake of his head. "Not Clinton's style. He's fully hands off." His words tell me the whole thing was non-violent, but the look in his eye says something else. Not going to lie, I have no idea what he means.

"Oh-kay. So, what's the deal if he took care of it?"

"We need to get on the road before Curt finds a way to tag along. Like, right now. He's got some of the roadies in his back pocket. I wanted to fire all of them, but Bree feels bad so she wouldn't let me."

"You have that kind of power?" I ask, awestruck.

Both he and Char answer at the same time. "Yes."

"Damn, cowboy. You're moving up in the world." I nod approvingly.

"I'm not a cowboy."

"You grew up on a ranch." I shrug.

"Whatever. Pack your shit. We're pulling out in ten minutes."

"Fuck." All my 'shit,' as Zack put it, is downstairs in the room I shared with Randy, the fucker. I turn to Char and pull her close, dropping a kiss smack on her lips. "I've got to run and throw my stuff in a bag. Stay with Zack or Clinton, got it? And call me when you're on your ride." I hug her tight. "Or better yet, ride on Brianna's bus. Safety in numbers, baby."

Char shakes her head. "You're a weirdo."

I smirk. "Nah, I'm your weirdo. There's a difference."

With that I bounce out of the penthouse and down to the lobby so I can catch the main elevator back to my floor. Minutes later I make it to my destination, opening the door to find Randy packing his bag with a smirk.

"I didn't know you had it in you," he sneers.

I ignore him, heading into the bathroom to grab my shaving kit and toothbrush. I continue to ignore him as I toss both into my suitcase along with the few clothes lying on the floor next to it. I zip up and glance around the room, making sure I grabbed everything.

"Smug motherfucker. See how that plays out for you." Randy brushes past me and into the bathroom. My silence rattled him.

Good.

I exit the room, leaving the key card on the table before I go. As I hop on the elevator, I realize I'm about to be trapped on a bus for 8 hours with the asshole.

Fuck my life.

***

I admit it. I'm hiding. The second I got on the bus the razzing started. It was playful at first. Some general ripping of my stamina, my status as a boy toy with a sugar mama, and something about her keeping me on a leash. No one said Char's name which is probably the only reason I didn't slam anyone's head into the wall. I kept my cool. I laughed along when the digs were against me.

But then Randy showed up and all bets were off.

Seriously, how many ways can the guy hint around that I'm a manwhore? I ignored him until he made a point to pull Char into the spotlight. How she's Curt's old lady and I'm messing with his leftovers. How stereotypes make the woman a homewrecker but I'm basically a chick, so it makes sense. He started to say something about her being a dried-up reject, but I leveled a look on him so menacing he stopped himself from saying anything else.

Rather than subject myself to more, or risk beating the shit out of the guy and losing my source of income, I retreated to my bunk. I've still got the bed next to the shitter which sucks, but I'd rather smell Randy's shit than be the one he shits on. I'm better than this. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

The bus is rolling down the highway, following many more in the caravan. If we'd have left when originally planned, I'd already be asleep and not in danger of blowing my top. But as it stands, we left five hours early. That puts us at the venue sometime in the middle of the night. I'm debating staying up so I can hop off as soon as we get there, go find Char and calm down with some serious snuggling.

In the meantime, I pull out my phone and text Zack. I need more details about this situation.

Me: level with me

Me: what really happened between Curt and Clinton?

Zack: He convinced Curt that it would be in his best interest to leave before authorities were involved.

Me: he must be some kind of sweet talker.

I think back to the advice he gave me before my date with Char. I could see Clinton saying just the right thing to get Curt to leave.

Zack: that and the fact he's 6'5'' and close to 300 pounds. He doesn't even need to raise his voice. Just calmly get in Curt's face and lay down the facts.

Me: Fact #1: I could squash you.

Me: Fact #2: see fact #1

Zack: basically.

Zack: look, I've got to get back to business. Char is in discussions with legal to keep Curt out of the venue in case he shows up again.

Me: Damn. Ok

I still don't have the answers I need. I wonder if Ryan or the other C1 guys can enlighten me. They haven't been overly open, but they are in a lawsuit with the guy. And they already broke the gag order, so what's a few more details between friends?

I scroll through my contacts, finding Ryan's and realizing what a bizzaro world I'm living in where I have access to the private number of a rock star. You'd think I'd be over it after knowing Brianna for going on two years, but nah. She's so down to earth, it doesn't feel like I'm in the presence of a celebrity. Ryan, all the C1 guys except for Jace, are over the top. They live like rock stars, minus the drunk and disorderly conduct charges and trashing hotel rooms.

I think through what I want to ask and send the text.

Me: I have some questions about he who shall not be named.

Me: Think you could answer some for me?

He must be bored out of his mind because he replies almost instantly.

Ryan: I could tell you but I'd have to kill you.

Fuck. Me.

Me: seriously? You were all loose lips before.

I hit send then immediately regret it. I don't want to piss the guy off.

Ryan: I was kidding, bro

Ryan: ask away

Duh. It's been a few days since I hung out with them. I forgot that collectively they can hardly string together anything serious.

Me: Why does Curt want on this tour?

I decided to leave off the whole married to Char part of the deal. I don't know what they know and I'm not about to be the guy that spills Char's secret.

Ryan: to fuck with us

Ryan: the guy is mental. And I mean that clinically. I think he got diagnosed when this whole thing started by a court appointed psychiatrist.

Ryan: none of us had any idea. He answered an add for a drummer and was able to rock with us pretty much right away so we hired him.

Ryan sends text after text, explaining how Curt hit the pavement for the band, getting them gigs and coverage that they wouldn't have gotten without him. They started to see the cracks in his personality but felt like they owed him some grace after all he'd done for the band as a whole. After the last tour, after the shit he'd pulled with Char and the bad press, they saw the writing on the wall. They didn't want to be that band, the one who left destruction in their wake.

So they fired him.

And now he's suing them for the rights to their back catalogue, all money lost between then and now, and for the rights to the name of the band. At their last court hearing, Curt had also added a suit against Jace for slander or some shit.

It's a fucking mess.

Me: what was his diagnosis?

Ryan doesn't answer right away. I wonder if he's weighing the decision to tell me everything.

Ryan: a form of borderline personality disorder that leads to stalking and obsessively violent thoughts.

Shit. It can't be easy dealing with a mental disorder. Part of me can muster sympathy for a situation the guy can't control. But that doesn't give him the right to do whatever the hell he wants. My sympathy only goes so far. Therapists are there for a reason.

I thank Ryan for the info and lie back on my bunk. The wheels in my head are turning. I can't stay on this bus, not after the shit show Randy just performed. Char may not want me with her, which is fine. I get how the optics might be a bad look for her even though we have nothing to hide. Staying with Zack and Brianna is not an option. But with what's going on, and the fact that C1 dragged me into their drama leaving Randy holding it over my head, I think they owe me. I plan to cash in at our next stop.

Jacob has stepped in it. I've mentioned that I have this entire story loosely plotted, and this chapter was part of it, but I literally had one sentence: "Randy gives him shit and what C1 knows." If you can call it a sentence! Very open ended even though I had a picture in my head.

Anyway, I'm on vacation for the next 12 days. I may or may not be able to update on time, but I'm crossing my fingers for some good writing energy!

This song is iconic. Jacob is once again on his own...but not really. 😏😉

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Thank you so much for reading! I love telling Jacob and Char's story and I'm so happy you're along for the ride.

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