Dissent (7 page)

“Bullshit,”
I said, starting to smile, but finding the challenge in his eyes, it
fell. I knew him better than anyone. And he didn't bluff.

“Fine,”
I said, sighing, looking back at Isaiah, “then you quit.”

“Awe,”
he said, reaching up and scratching the scruff on his cheek, “I'm
afraid I can't do that.”

“Why?”

He
looked back down at Jay, sharing a smile that I wanted to slap off of
both of their faces. “I'm with Jay... this is going to be too
much fun.”

“Augh,”
I said, turning away for a minute. So that was how serious he was
taking this so-called game of ours? He was willing to run away from
his entire life for a year in order to fuck with me? And, well, fuck
me. Who did that kind of thing? What kind of unstable was he that he
would take a menial job on my tour bus just to win at something?

“Whatever,”
I said, half turning back. “Just make sure his bunk is way away
from mine,” I said, starting to storm away.

“Well,
you see...” Jay said and I felt my spine straighten.

“I
see what?”

“Normally,
I would be happy to oblige you,” he said in a tone that we both
knew he actually preferred screwing with me as much as possible, “but
all the extra bunks were already taken when he got here...”

“How
were they already taken?” I asked, walking back. “At my
last count, we have three band members, a bus driver, and two crew
members. That makes six. So there should have been two...”

“Yeah
but then I decided to bring Maddy along,” Jay said, nodding
behind me where a pretty redhead was standing, waving at me.

“Oh,
great,” I said, then turned to the girl. “I hope you know
that he's going to get sick of you half way through the tour and drop
you off in some town you've never heard of with bus fair. But not
before he makes you do all kinds of perverted things with him. And
whatever other girls he brings back on the bus.”

“Yeah,
he told me,” she said sweetly, walking past me and curling up
at Jay's feet.

“Fucking
groupies, man,” Jay said, smiling.

I
rubbed at the headache I was getting between my eyes. “Alright
fine. What bunk does he have?”

“The
one right under yours,” Todd informed me, looking sheepish.

“Oh
that's just wonderful,” I said, shaking my head and taking off
toward the front of the bus.

The
girl, Maddy, was bad enough. I had gotten used to Jay's bunk buddies
a long way back. They were always young and stupid and bound to throw
a jealous and possessive fit at some point or another. Which I would,
of course, be called on to de-escalate because, apparently, having a
vagina meant I knew how to handle temper tantrums.

So
as if that wasn't enough, I had to deal with Isaiah. Sexy, determined
Isaiah. Sleeping right underneath me. It was going to be a long, long
tour.

I
walked up front, grabbing my bag and hauled myself up into my bunk,
pulling my privacy curtain and slipping my earbuds in.

The
only reason the tour bus worked was because we knew each other all so
well. Todd got up early and switched with Burt who would lay down and
get some rest. The crew would wake up next, sitting up in the front
and talking quietly, texting, working on their own music or art or
whatever it was they were passionate about. Then I would get up,
insisting Todd stop so we could pick up coffee and pasteries. Jay
wasn't to be woken up... ever. If you tried, it was at the very real
threat of bodily harm. He was not a morning person. Or an afternoon
person most of the time.

Todd
went right to bed after a show. I stayed up and wound down slowly
before making my way to my bunk. Jay stayed up all night being as
loud as he pleased, fucking girls on every surface of the bus. Then
we would wake up and collectively clean everything with bleach wipes
and start another day. Todd snored in the Fall. Jay had nightmares
that made him thrash around in his sleep.

I
didn't like anyone touching my stuff. I was a whiny baby when I got
sick. And I wanted all non-bus guys off said bus before I went to
sleep.

We'd
known each other more intimately than most people knew their spouses
simply because we were stuck together in such a small space. Jay had
been pestering me about insisting on a separate sleeper bus for the
crew. Most groups toured with at least two other sleepers for their
crew. But I could never reconcile the idea. We had always been
capable of pitching in on the stage builds and the general set-up. We
had always done it before we got employees.

Besides,
Joey and Mike had been with us almost from the beginning and we
generally didn't do big, over the top stage shows. That wasn't the
way it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be about the music.

The
most elaborate we had ever gotten was having fake blood pour down on
us while we sang a song about the more and more prevalent problem of
self-harm.

I'll
concede, though, that we were in desperate need of another set of
hands. We had talked about hiring a third person for months, but no
one ever followed through. That was until, of course, someone just
showed up one day and offered themselves for the job. Jay had
probably been proud as a cat bringing home a mouse at solving the
problem.

He
would get bored. Sooner or later, he would lose steam. He would get
tired of the ass-breaking work. He would need to get back to his real
job. He would give up.

Then
things could go ahead and get back to normal. Until then, well, I
just was going to make sure we were never alone together. Because I
knew the temptation was still there. I knew his touchy-feely ways
were going to melt my panties into a puddle of desire if I let it
happen.

Which
I wasn't. Because, well, talk about awkward. Everyone would know we
did it. I would be teased something merciless. Then when it went
south, like it was absolutely bound to, there was going to be the
tension of having to be on the same bus with him.

I
did, however, need to get laid. It really just boiled down to that.
It was the whole reason I was so ga-ga over the guy. He wasn't even
my type. Like... at all. I liked the guys in my crowd: hardasses,
down to earth, perhaps a little dark. Long haired, pierced, tatted,
with some sort of artistic ability.

Isaiah
Meyers was a freaking blonde haired, green eyed, venture capitalist.

I
had no use for that type. I grew up around those kinds of men.
Everything was sneaky and backhanded. They were creepy toward me even
as a child. They had an inflated sense of self. They liked their
women superficial: pretty on the outside, dumb as sawdust inside.

A
man like that couldn't handle me.

My
eye caught a motion to my side and I turned against my pillow to see
someone pulling my privacy curtain open. Strike that. Not “someone”.
Because everyone else knew the rules. I didn't even have to see his
face to know who it was. I pulled out one of my earbuds as his face
came into view, resting his arms across the bottom of my bunk and
standing there like he had nothing better to do with his time.

“You're
new,” I started, shaking my head, “so I'll let this
slide. Once. When the curtain is closed,” I said, gesturing
toward it, “you leave the person inside of it alone.”

“Why?”
he asked, smiling a lazy, and yet sly, smile.

“Because
those are the rules. Our bunks are our only private places on
this...”

“Private
places, huh?” he asked, one side of his lips lifting. “I
would like to know all about your private places.”

Oh,
my god. And said private places were very eager for the inspection,
damn it.

I
reached out, grabbing the curtain and pulling it. “Just follow
the rules or I'll have your ass thrown out at the next stop.”

There.

Now
all I had to do was stay in my bunk for the entire tour.

Seven

Alright,
maybe it was a crazy plan. I was pretty sure Dr. Todd was going to
give me a lot of shit about it. On our video chat sessions. Because
when I told her I was heading out of town for a year, she threatened
to drop me if I didn't figure out some way to keep up with her
counseling. I don't particularly know why the threat bothered me. I
wasn't really getting much out of therapy in the first place.

Maybe
it was because she was the only real constant in my life. Especially
being a woman. There used to be my sister before she left. But she
was in some town somewhere with her husband, three rambunctious
daughters, and slew of misfit in-laws. Not that I blamed her. She
deserved her happiness after the crap we had to go through. But once
she was gone, there were no other women who were an ever-present
staple in my life. Except the good doctor. So perhaps I was clinging
to that. Because I knew it wasn't normal to dispose of women like I
did.

Hell,
because I still needed her fucking help.

I
was all kinds of screwed up.

Who
chases their neighbor across the country? Just to get them into bed?
What normal, fully functioning human being would do that?

It
wasn't even like me. I wasn't one of those guys who got off on the
chase. I didn't need the hunt. If I wanted to hunt, I would take to
the woods with a gun or a snare like a real fucking man. I didn't
need to play at being a huntsman with women. I liked it easy. I liked
to get you home and clothes off in under an hour.

I
didn't get crushes. I didn't get obsessions. One woman was just as
good as the next.

So
what the hell was so different about Darcy Monroe?

She
wasn't that spectacularly amazing looking. Gorgeous. Sexy as fuck.
But there were better looking women out there. A women with a few
less sharp edges. Women who actually wanted to be with me.

True,
she was educated. You didn't have to share more than a few words with
her to know she was intelligent. And confident in her knowledge. She
wasn't some fact hoarder, a search engine junkie. She was genuinely
well-informed from a traditional educational background.

Maybe
it was the darkness. It was different. Intriguing.

But
all of those things had to do with her. As a person. I don't fuck
women for their minds. So really, none of this made sense.

I'm
not entirely sure what drove me to do it. One minute I was finishing
her Bronte novel and reaching for a Hardy, the next I was tracking
down her band mate and offering to do whatever job I needed to do to
go on tour with them. It had been surprisingly easy. If it hadn't
been, I might have given up, gone to a bar, and found some other
woman and screwed her until I forgot all about Darcy Monroe.

The
look of complete and utter shock on her face when she saw me in the
lounge, though, had been worth all the hassle it had been to
rearrange things at work, get my apartment taken care of, deal with
Dr. Todd... everything.

There
was no way she was going to be able to resist me forever. Not when we
were sleeping with just a couple feet between us. When she couldn't
storm away from me. When she would be seeing me everywhere.

She
wasn't exactly happy to see me. Which was fine. To be expected even.
But she would warm up to me eventually.

I
helped the other crew members, Joey and Mike, finish loading the
equipment and luggage into the underneath storage area of the bus
then made my way back on it with everyone else as Burt told everyone
to get somewhere and stay put because we were hitting the road. I
moved through the galley and toward my bunk, slipping inside next to
my bag packed with some electronics and half a dozen books.

It
wasn't bad. I had figured a bunk on a bus was going to be
uncomfortable and awkward. But once you pulled the curtain, it was
comfortable. Almost private. There was a television hanging from the
ceiling above my head which had cable and on-demand subscription
services. The mattress was thick enough to allow me to get some
decent sleep after hours of busting my ass on show days. The swaying
of the moving bus was comforting. There was a little fabric bag
hanging from the bunk wall by my feet and I reached for it, opening
it and spreading its contents on the mattress next to me.

Earplugs.
Eyemask. Motion sickness pills. Aspirin. And seven condoms. Seven. I
wondered what the logic was there. One for each day of the week? Was
someone going to drop into everyone's bunks once a week and put
another week supply in everyone's bags? Hell... was that going to be
part of my job?