♪ Six ♪
A month later, Nicolette walked into Jerith’s house in Malibu. She and Ryan had moved in the week before. Jerith had been very quiet over the last month. The rest of the tour had been canceled, and numerous fans were suing Billy and the Kid because they had been injured at the concert. The band had ceased to exist.
Now, coming into the house, Nicolette could hear the stereo on down the hall. She walked back toward Jerith’s music room and stood in the doorway, watching him. He was lying on the couch, his head resting against the arm, a drink in his hand and his eyes closed. The song that had been playing ended and a new one began. Jerith sang the words and Nicolette could feel his almost-tangible pain. She knew the future of his career was uncertain, and that he was dying inside with the need to play again. She watched as he sang, fingering the chords on an imaginary guitar. Again she wondered how much of what he was singing was what he was really feeling. The song was Queensrÿche’s “Is There Anybody Listening,” and the lyrics talked about seeing what was really behind it all and understanding that the public was being lied to. In the end it talked about sailing away, never to be seen again.
As the song faded out, Nicolette walked into the room and knelt next to Jerith, reaching out to stroke his hair. He opened his eyes, and it was obvious he’d been drinking. But the torment in his blue eyes cut her to the core, and Nicolette found herself cursing Billy Montague’s name for the millionth time. No one had heard from Billy in the last month. It was like she’d disappeared. Jerith had been half afraid she’d kill herself, but nothing had happened; he just didn’t know anything at all.
“Hi there,” she said softly.
Jerith gave her a small smile and moved to sit up, but gave up the effort when he realized he was too drunk to do so.
“Have you eaten today?” she asked, already knowing the answer when he looked like he was thinking about it. “Never mind. I’m going to make dinner. You lay here, and do us both a favor,” she said, grinning as she stood up and looking at him pointedly. “Don’t try to stand up. You might hurt yourself.”
Jerith’s lips twisted in a grin as he nodded.
An hour later, she brought dinner in to him and found that he had taken her advice and not moved. He had, however, finished his drink, and the glass was sitting on the floor next to the couch. Nicolette bent down to pick it up, then started to pull Jerith up. He groaned. “Are you hurting?” she asked, concerned. His back had been giving him trouble since the incident at the concert.
“Are you kidding?” Jerith said, giving her a wry look. He reached over and picked up an empty bottle of Southern Comfort—a bottle that had been full that morning. “I’m not feeling a damn thing,” he said seriously.
“Jesus, Jerith,” Nicolette breathed, looking at the bottle, her eyes clouding further with worry. She hadn’t seen this side of him before. It scared her a little, but she had to be there for him; he needed her now more than ever. “And you haven’t had a damn thing to eat either, have you?”
Again he looked as if he were considering the question. His thought processes were obviously a bit slowed. “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head and handing him the plate of food. “Eat this, now, okay?”
Jerith nodded numbly and dutifully picked up the fork. Nicolette watched him, but he didn’t eat much, and that bothered her. It wasn’t healthy for him to drink that much and not have anything in his body to soak up the alcohol. She knew that he’d been drinking over the last month, but she didn’t think he’d ever drunk as much as that day. Nicolette made a mental note to keep tabs on his consumption; she didn’t want it to become a habit.
Later that night, she felt him climb into bed behind her. She glanced at the clock; it was 1:00 in the morning. He reached out, pulling her back to him and curling his body around hers, nuzzling her neck. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it made her cringe. There had been many nights when John had come home smelling of alcohol and had snuggled up to her, expecting her to give him whatever he wanted. And she had, but the few times she had resisted he’d gotten angry, and that had led to violence. The combination of senses seemed to wash over her suddenly, and she couldn’t control her body’s response, recoiling from him. Jerith was aware of it instantly.
“Nick? What’s wrong?” he said. He didn’t sound drunk at all.
Nicolette shrugged, not wanting to turn around, because she knew he’d see the tears that had started suddenly.
“Babe,” Jerith said softly, his lips next to her ear. “Talk to me…”
“I… it’s nothing, Jerith, okay. I’m just tired,” she said, trying desperately to keep her voice calm and reaching up to wipe her tears away. But Jerith caught the movement and literally dragged her around to face him. His blue eyes widened as he saw her tears.
“Jesus,” he said, shocked. “What? What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything.” Nicolette said, trying to regain her composure and convince him that she was okay at the same time. “It’s me, I… I just have an aversion to the smell of alcohol. It triggers some fairly bad memories. I’m sorry, it has nothing to do with you.” She reached out then and touched his cheek. She could see the worry on his face, and she felt bad for having caused it. He had enough to worry about without having to consider her emotional baggage from her first marriage.
“What did he do to you?” Jerith asked, surprising her with his sudden vehemence.
“He drank, and he… Never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does matter if it’s affecting us now, doesn’t it?” He really didn’t sound or look even the slightest bit drunk.
Nicolette looked up at him, surprised by his obvious agitation but not wanting to admit to what had happened in her own household. It was very clear to her, however, that he was waiting for an answer, and that he expected to get it. Finally she sighed. “He’d want sex, and if I refused he’d hit me, okay?”
She had said it so offhandedly that Jerith stared at her for a long moment as he assimilated what she was telling him. But Nicolette could tell when it clicked, because his eyes narrowed and he looked at her more closely, as if searching for signs of John’s abuse.
“That sonofabitch hit you?”
“Not all the time, just when he was drunk. And when I said no… I was his wife—I guess he didn’t figure it was my right to refuse him.” She shrugged.
“Don’t make excuses for that bastard,” Jerith said, his tone still reflecting his outrage. Then he pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. “I’m sorry, Nick. If I’d have known… I’m sorry.”
Nicolette couldn’t help but be warmed by his words. It made her realize once again how lucky she was to have him.
She pulled back to look up at him. “You know something, Mr. Michaels?”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, because I love you too,” he said, his smile ever charming. “But first.” He held a finger up as he got out of bed, then went into the bathroom and closed the door. Nicolette laughed as she heard the water running, knowing he was trying to get rid of the smell of alcohol on his breath. She found that he had succeeded a few minutes later when he came back and kissed her like it was their first kiss. They made love that night, and Nicolette realized it was the first time they had since she and Ryan had moved in with him. Things had been so crazy and up in the air, and they’d been so tired, but now everything was right again.
Nicolette fell asleep in her husband’s arms, thinking that now he needed to get his career back on track too.
The next day, Jerith and Nicolette were out running errands. As usual the radio was on in the car; Jerith had tuned to a classic rock station. Whitesnake’s “Still of the Night” came on and, glancing over at Nicolette apologetically, he cranked the volume up. Nicolette grinned as she watched her husband sing. At one point she reached over, turning the volume down just a bit. When Jerith looked at her questioningly, she shrugged and said, “I want to hear you sing, not him.”
“David Coverdale would be real happy to hear you say that,” Jerith said, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not in love with him,” Nicolette said smoothly.
Jerith grinned, and continued to sing as he drove. At one point, the lead singer’s voice became sultry and low. Listening to Jerith sing the same lyrics in the same manner, Nicolette was surprised to find her body respond. Her pulse seemed to race just a little bit more, and every note, every slight intonation in his voice, thrummed at her libido. She had always been surprised by her body’s response to him, but this time was different. It was his singing, his voice that made her react. Nicolette knew this was important. She remembered what the Rolling Stone article had said about Jerith’s voice, that it had shaken the writer to the core, that she’d felt an almost magnetic pull toward him when she heard him sing. Now Nicolette felt it too.
When the song ended, Jerith turned the radio back down to a normal level. He glanced over at Nicolette and noticed the look of amazement on her face.
“What?” he said cynically.
“You know what. You’ve been hiding behind Billy this whole time, haven’t you?”
“Excuse me?” he said, a mystified grin on his lips.
“There’s no excuse for you,” Nicolette said, returning his grin along with a narrowed look. “Jerith Joshua Michaels, you have an incredible voice, and you’ve been wasting it on backing vocals all this time.”
“I wouldn’t call it wasting it,” he said, glancing around the interior of the car as if to say, “Look at what I have.”
“I would,” Nicolette retorted, feeling the need to make him admit his talent. “You could have been lead singing all this time, and you haven’t.”
“That’s because Billy’s the lead singer.”
“Yeah, well she’s not the lead singer anymore, is she?” Nicolette replied heatedly. “And Billy and the Kid isn’t Billy and the Kid without Billy.”
Jerith retorted with equal intensity. “No, it’s just Kid, isn’t it?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Jerith didn’t reply. He stared out at the road ahead of him, his tumult showing in the tightening of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. “It’s not that easy, Nick,” he said finally, all fight gone from his voice.
“Explain it to me. Tell me why it’s not,” Nicolette said, her voice softer now too.
Again Jerith didn’t reply. He pulled into the lot of the store they were going to and parked. Then he turned to her. “Maybe people don’t want to hear Kid Michaels sing. You know people didn’t respond well when Joe Satriani opened his mouth, and he is one of the best guitarists in the world.”
“And maybe he couldn’t really sing. But you can, Jerith.”
Jerith shook his head, as if not understanding why she didn’t get it. He turned and got out of the car, and Nicolette followed suit. They walked into the store hand in hand. The man at the front door recognized him, and said, “Good morning, Kid.” Jerith nodded to him and smiled.
Nicolette glanced up at him, and Jerith responded by saying, “I come here a lot.”
“I see.” She smiled, as if that were the only reason someone would recognize him.
They walked around the store for a little while, picking up things here and there.
“Making an album isn’t cheap either, you know, and there’s not a lot of people willing to back someone soloing it for the first time,” Jerith said. Nicolette couldn’t help but smile; she knew he’d been thinking about what she had said and had hoped he’d get around to discussing it some more.
“How much does it cost?” she asked.
“Depends on how you want it to sound.”
“Well, we want it to sound good, right?”
Jerith grinned, noting that she was already expecting him to do it. “Yeah, and that would mean a crew like Billy and the Kid used. They’re expensive.”
“How expensive?”
“Couple hundred.”
“A couple hundred dollars?” Nicolette was shocked—he thought that was expensive?
“A couple of hundred thousand dollars, honey,” Jerith said, his look saying, “I told you so.”
“Oh,” Nicolette said, taken aback. This was an expensive business.
“And that’s not including promotion and all that—that’s just studio time, production fees, and the print.” Jerith glanced down at her, noting that she looked a bit surprised.
She recovered quickly. “Okay… so last time I checked, you had a lot of money.”
“Yeah,” Jerith said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “And last time I checked, I have a wife and son to consider now.”
Nicolette looked up at him sharply, but she could see by the look on his face that he hadn’t meant the comment to be nasty. Jerith took his responsibilities very seriously. “No offense, Mr. Michaels, but we were doing just fine before you came along.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean,” Nicolette said, touching his arm. “What I’m saying is, I want you to do what makes you happy. You won’t know how people will respond till you give it a try.”
“And if I wash out?”
“We’ll jump off that bridge if and when we come to it.”
“No, the answer is, if I wash out, my career will really be over, and I’ll be doing infomercials on the home shopping channel,” Jerith said seriously, though he was grinning.
“So don’t wash out,” Nicolette said confidently.
“Easy for you to say,” Jerith said, walking away from her down another aisle.
“Hey!” Nicolette caught up to him and put her arm through his. “So are you gonna think about it, or do I have to divorce ya?”
Jerith grinned, shaking his head. “You win. I’ll think about it.”
Later, when they were in line, a young man sidled up to Jerith and extended his hand. “You’re Kid Michaels.”
“Okay,” Jerith said, smiling as he shook his hand.
“Damn nice to meet ya, man. This your wife?” he asked, looking at Nicolette appreciatively. Jerith’s hand tightened imperceptibly in Nicolette’s as he nodded. “Well, it’s nice to meet you too. I’m Derick.”
“It’s good to meet you, Derick,” Jerith said, and Nicolette smiled, nodding. She still wasn’t used to people coming up to them.
“So, man, are you like gonna kick it on your own, or what?” Derick said, tilting his head to the side.
“Not sure yet,” Jerith replied, feeling Nicolette’s elbow in his ribs as she got in her “I told you so.”
“Think it’d be a badass track, man. You should go for it,” Derick said, seeming happy to be giving a superstar advice.
Jerith nodded. “Thanks.”
“No prob, man. Hey, do you think you could, like, sign somethin’ for me? My girlfriend is gonna shit that I actually met you. She’s like got every picture of you ever put out—pisses me off a little bit, know what I mean? How the fuck’s a guy supposed to measure up to that?”
“Sorry,” Jerith said, looking honestly so. “But yeah, I’ll sign something. Whaddya got?” He started searching his pockets for something to write on.
Derick pulled a bus pass out of his pocket and handed it to Jerith. Nicolette gave him a pen.
Jerith looked at the bus pass. “If I write on this, it looks like it’ll void it.”
Derick looked at the pass for a moment, then shrugged. “Hey, I don’t care. I can buy another one—they’re only, like, ten bucks. Your autograph’s worth it.”
Jerith smiled at the younger man. “Well, thanks for saying so,” he said as he signed his name. Then he pulled out his wallet, took out a ten-dollar bill, and handed both the bus pass and the money to Derick. “But I don’t want you out any money for it.”
“Wow, man, thanks!” Derick said, his eyes widening. People standing nearby watched the exchange with interest, and smiled at the young, rough-looking man’s obvious excitement. A few more people became Kid Michaels fans in that moment, even people who didn’t like that loud rock music.
Later, in the car, Nicolette told him what she’d seen on the onlookers’ faces. “They thought you were great, and so do I,” she said, her eyes shining as she looked at him.
“Don’t start all that hero worship stuff, okay?” Jerith said, looking very uncomfortable with the compliment.
“You certainly don’t have any of that star-trip, ego thing going on, that’s for sure,” Nicolette said, shaking her head.
Jerith shrugged. “I play guitar, people like it. Big deal.”
“Not quite, Mr. Michaels. I think it’s a little more than that.”
“Being rich and famous makes it easy to be nice, Nick.”
“Yeah, but lots of people are rich and famous and not nice at all.”
“Okay, you win. I’m a god. Can we move on now?”
Nicolette laughed. “Yes, dear, we can move on. That kid was very happy, and he wanted to know if you were going solo…”
“He’s one kid.”
“Bullshit, Jerith. I don’t think anyone really knew who the driving force behind Billy and the Kid was till that Rolling Stone article. But now they do, and they’re all sitting holding their breath and waiting to see what you’re going to do. I don’t think you should disappoint them.”
Jerith was silent for a long moment, then glanced over at her. “I think your description of my debatable following is a little exaggerated, but maybe you’re right.”
Nicolette smiled. “Of course I am.”
Jerith just nodded.
****
Two weeks later, he was sitting in BJ Sparks’ office, his knee bouncing nervously as he waited for BJ to arrive. He looked around, noticing all the gold and platinum albums. The man was proliferate, that was for sure.
“Hey, Kid,” BJ said as he strode in, extending his hand to Jerith.
Jerith stood and shook BJ’s hand, his expression serious.
BJ sat behind his desk, looking over at the guitarist and leaning back in his chair. “So, what’s up?” he asked when Jerith didn’t say anything.
“I, uh,” Jerith stammered. He blew out his breath, not sure if he was actually crazy for doing this, but knowing he had to try. “I was thinking about doing an album.”
“Alone?” BJ sounded surprised.
“Yeah,” Jerith said, feeling even more nervous.
Steepling his hands in front of him, BJ looked like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept. “Are you gonna sing?” he asked wryly.
Jerith stared back at him, considering just telling him to forget it and leaving before BJ could tell him he was nuts. But he knew he needed to see this through; then at least he’d know he’d tried. Finally he nodded, slowly, his lips twitching in consternation.
“Well, it’s about fucking time!” BJ burst out, smiling widely.
“I’m sorry?” Jerith said, suddenly lost.
“You think Johnny didn’t play me that track you laid?” BJ’s lips curled in a sardonic grin. “Nothing happens in Wild Irish Silence that I don’t know about, Kid.”
“I guess not,” Jerith muttered, trying to decide if he should be pissed at Johnny.
“So when do you want to start?”
“Uh, soon?” Jerith was still somewhat in shock at how easy this had been.
“The sooner the better.” BJ stood and extended his hand. “Let’s get to work.”
****
Production on Kid Michaels’ first solo album, titled Solo, began a month later. Jerith worked on it tirelessly. Nicolette had gotten on with the Bureau of Narcotic Enforcement in their Los Angeles regional office as a special agent and had been told that because of her experience as a sergeant in narcotics, she would more than likely make special agent supervisor within two years. Ryan started his new school and was happy to find out that Becky went there too. Things seemed to be going smoothly, until one afternoon when Ryan got home to find John Harris sitting in a rental car outside Jerith’s house.
When Ryan’s friends dropped him off, John got out of the car and walked over to him.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
“Your mom may have full custody, Ryan, but I still have visitation rights, you know,” John said, his voice deceptively casual. Ryan didn’t like it; he knew that his father hated Jerith, and he surmised that he was all-time pissed off that Jerith and Nicolette had actually gotten married.
“Yeah, right, I know,” Ryan said, smiling at his father wanly. “Look, I’ll go inside and drop my books and then maybe we can go somewhere.”
“What’s the matter with you?” John said, his voice almost harsh. “I want to see where you’re living now.” He put his arm around his son and steered him toward the house. Ryan was on alert instantly. He knew how his father could be—including very violent, if he wanted to be.
“Okay, but let me call Mom when we get in. She doesn’t like me to have people in Kid’s house, ya know,” Ryan said, trying to cajole his father into dropping the idea.
“It’s your house now too, not just Kid’s,” John replied, saying Jerith’s stage name with apparent distaste.
“Yeah, I know. Kid’s real cool about that—he doesn’t mind if I have the guys over…” Ryan trailed off as he saw his father’s face change. He knew he was telling his dad more than he needed to hear, so he shut up. He opened the front door and went in, dropping his backpack on the sofa and heading into the kitchen to call his mother. Fortunately, she was in her office and answered on the second ring.
“Michaels,” Nicolette said, still stumbling slightly over her new name.
“Mom,” Ryan said, trying to keep his voice low. John was standing in the living room, looking around.
“Ryan, what is it?” Nicolette said, detecting the cautious tone in her son’s voice.
“Dad’s here.”
“He’s what?” Nicolette stood in her cubicle, the people around her glancing up at her exclamation.
“Here, Mom, here,” Ryan almost chanted under his breath. “Dad’s here.”
“I’ll be home in a half hour. Don’t go anywhere with him,” Nicolette said very seriously.
“Okay.” Then Ryan realized he’d already told his dad they could go somewhere. “Hurry, Mom.”
They hung up, and Ryan turned to his father.
“So, Dad… what’re you doing here, anyway? I mean, are you on business or something?” Ryan said, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded.
“Yeah, business…” John said, his voice trailing off as he grinned. “So why don’t you show me around the superstar’s house?”
“I… Okay,” Ryan said, seeing a chance to keep him there till his mother got home.
Half an hour later, Nicolette drove up to the house. She jumped out of her car and ran inside. “Ryan?” she yelled as she walked in, as if she were just coming home from work.
“Mom! Hi!” Ryan said, moving to hug her, basically to get away from his father. During the last half hour, all his father had talked about was what a pansy Jerith was, and that if he was a real man he’d get an honest job, and what a dirtbag town he’d moved him and his mother to.
Nicolette stood in the kitchen looking at her ex-husband, her emerald green eyes narrowed just slightly. “John, you’re supposed to call before you come for a visit, and you don’t belong in this house.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have His Majesty’s phone number.” John sneered. “And information don’t exactly give that kind of stuff out, now, do they?”
“I sent you the information, along with this address. It’s obvious you got the email—you’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I am,” John said, moving toward her. Nicolette stood her ground, staring him straight in the eye.
“And now you can leave,” she said coolly.
“Not without spending some time with my son.”
“You’ve spent…” Nicolette looked down at her watch. “A half hour with him. I consider that time. Ryan, go outside for a little while. Your father and I have something to discuss.” Ryan looked at his mother for a long moment, obviously loath to leave her side. “Go on, Ryan,” she said, giving him a look that said she’d be okay.
When Ryan had left the room she turned back to John. “Now, I want you out of here, and don’t come back again without calling me.”
Nicolette saw John tense, but didn’t react fast enough to miss his hand as it lashed out to slap her. She cried out involuntarily from the shock. He’d never struck her when he was sober; it was the last thing she had expected.
“That,” John said, rubbing the palm of his hand absently, “was for being a bitch. Just wait till you see what I’m going to do to you for dragging my son to this pit of a city,” he snarled, and started toward her.
Nicolette reacted by stepping back and reaching for the gun at the small of her back, at the exact same time the front door was thrown open and Jerith strode in. Nicolette had called him before leaving the office; he had known there was another man in his territory.
“Get the fuck away from my wife,” Jerith said, his tone low and threatening, his blue eyes points of fire.
John was momentarily stunned, first by the fact that his ex-wife had been prepared to draw down on him and secondly that her husband had just shown up. He recovered his composure quickly as Nicolette moved her hand away from the butt of her gun. “And what do you think you’re going to do to me, Kid?”
“If you lay a hand on her—” Jerith started to say, then saw the red mark already starting on Nicolette’s cheek. His eyes widened in surprise at what he’d obviously missed, then narrowed as he looked at John, who was foolish enough to look proud. “You fucking sonofabitch,” Jerith said and, to John’s shock, rushed at him, knocking him to the ground.
Jerith landed a good punch to John’s jaw before John managed to gain the advantage. Using police techniques for taking suspects into custody, John got Jerith down on the ground, but Jerith’s outrage made him stronger. With the strength and stamina that had seen him through months of grueling concerts, Jerith shoved John away from him and managed to get to his feet, dragging John up with him. Then, holding him by two handfuls of his jacket, he rammed him against the nearest wall, pinning him there as he stared into his face.
“If you ever touch my wife again,” Jerith said, breathing heavily from the exertion of fighting, “there won’t be a badge big enough for you to hide behind.” He let go of John then, and the sudden lack of support caused him to fall heavily to the floor as Jerith walked over to Nicolette.
Nicolette had watched the scuffle in shock, not sure what to do. She had drawn her gun and held it at her side in case John tried to fight dirty. It amazed her that Jerith, though smaller and much less stocky than her ex, had managed to gain the upper hand.
Jerith pulled her into his embrace and looked back at John, who was standing up. “Now, get the fuck out of my house.”
“This ain’t over,” John said as he wiped the blood away from his mouth.
“It is over,” Jerith said, nodding. “Next time, I’ll kill you.”
“Ryan’s my son. I have a right to see him,” John said indignantly, as if that had been the issue all along.
“He’s my son now too, and you can see him when you call ahead. But don’t ever set foot inside my house again, or I’ll have you arrested, or shot—whichever is more convenient at the time.”
John narrowed his eyes, but said nothing further. He turned and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
Jerith looked down at Nicolette, touching her cheek. “You okay?”
Nicolette nodded, then noticed the blood on his hand. She took his hand gently, reaching for his other as well and examining them. “Jesus, Jerith, your hands. How are you going to be able to play?”
Jerith grinned. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m a lead singer now too, huh?”
“And a fighter—how come I didn’t know you could fight?” She walked him over to the couch, pulling him down next to her.
“I told you, I grew up on the mean streets of New Jersey,” Jerith said chidingly. “But you figured ’cause I’m such a pretty boy, I couldn’t fight, right?” He gave her a mockingly angry look.
“Well, you are a pretty boy, that’s for sure,” she said, smiling. “As well as my protector, so it would seem.”
“Indeed,” Jerith said, looking very cocky. Then he looked at her seriously. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m fine. He only slapped me—it surprised me more than anything else. He only hit me before when he was drunk. He was stone cold sober today.”
“If he comes back—” Jerith began to say, but Nicolette cut him off.
“I’ll shoot him,” she said with a contemptuous look.
“Good.” Jerith leaned down to kiss her.
Ryan found them a half hour later, still kissing on the couch. He thought it was the coolest thing that his mom was making out with her husband, who was the Kid Michaels, on the couch like a teenager.
They were all quieter at dinner that night, but by the following day, John’s visit was forgotten.
****
Three months later, there was a report on the news that Billy Montague had almost died when she was high on cocaine and alcohol and in a depressed state had slit her wrists. Jerith was very quiet that night, and Nicolette didn’t bother him; she knew he was worried. She wondered if Billy had finally hit bottom, knowing that was the only way the woman was ever going to get off the drugs, if they didn’t kill her first. Billy was in a critical condition for nearly two weeks. Jerith called the hospital frequently for updates, but never went to see her. He wasn’t willing to get sucked into her problems again. He knew his life was just getting back on track; his album was almost finished, and the last thing he needed now was to get looped into Billy’s needs again.
Billy was moved to the stable list after three weeks, and Jerith was told she was progressing well. Again, he didn’t go to see her. Nicolette could see he was fighting a battle with himself over it, but she also knew it was something he needed to work through. She knew he would talk to her if he wanted to—but he didn’t.
Two months after Billy’s near death, Jerith “Kid” Michaels released Solo. Rolling Stone hailed the album as groundbreaking. The fans were enthralled, and within weeks the record stores were clamoring for more copies. Jerith was on top again, this time without Billy.
Nicolette was thrilled for him, and Jerith gave her all the credit for his success. The album was comprised of songs about life in general. One of the most popular singles, “The Noose,” was about co-dependency and how it could suck you in and almost kill you. The first song to hit number one, however, was one that Jerith dedicated to his wife, “Nicky”; it was entitled “Blindsided”. The song detailed having dreams of the perfect woman, knowing what you want, looking for that perfect person, and being blindsided by love. Nicolette loved it, and couldn’t help but smile every time she heard it.
Because of Kid Michaels’ obvious devotion to his wife, she had become almost as famous as he was. When he was asked for interviews, many times they requested his wife be there as well. Nicolette shied away from such interviews; being a special agent for a law enforcement agency caused a lot of friction. When she made supervisor within three months of the release of Jerith’s album, she was finally freed from the worries of undercover work. Suddenly her picture appeared everywhere, always with Jerith. The world fell in love with the idea of falling in love and finding the perfect mate.
Ryan’s sixteenth birthday occurred during the rise of Jerith’s album, but Jerith made a point of being home for it. Ryan woke late that morning and walked out to the kitchen. He caught his mother and Jerith kissing. She was sitting on the island, and Jerith stood between her legs, holding her close. They looked up, grinning, when Ryan cleared his throat pointedly.
“Look, Ry,” Jerith said, his tone conciliatory, “I planned to be home today, but something came up, and… well, shit, I gotta go.” He leaned down, kissing Nicolette again, then headed for the door, pulling on his jacket. Ryan stared after him, stunned. Jerith had never treated him so offhandedly before; he was beginning to wonder if the star-trip thing was starting to set in. Jerith didn’t seem to notice as he flipped him a wave and said, “I’ll try to make it back so we can all do dinner or something, okay?” Then he closed the front door.
Ryan looked over at his mother, his mouth still hanging open. Nicolette looked a bit aghast as well. Then the front door opened again, and Jerith strode in, looking harried. “Forgot something,” he said, walking over and picking up his guitar case. Then he walked to the door again, where he turned back, looking at Ryan. “Oh, yeah, happy birthday, man,” he said, and with that, tossed something at Ryan.
Ryan was still so stunned by Jerith’s erratic behavior he didn’t even react, allowing the object to strike his hand and fall to the floor. Then he bent down to pick it up. It was a set of keys. He looked up to see Jerith still standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, and then looked at his mother, who was smiling widely.
“Is this what I think it is?” he said, not daring to hope.
Jerith’s grin widened. “Check the garage.”
Ryan let out a banshee scream and ran headlong for the garage. Jerith walked back into the kitchen and took Nicolette’s hand. As they followed Ryan, they could already hear his excited “Oh my God”s.
“Think he likes it?” Jerith said as they opened the door.
“I think he damn well better.”
Jerith had bought Ryan a convertible white Honda Accord, which was reported to be the car for teenagers at that point. Jerith had wanted to buy him something racier, but Nicolette had told him no. “I don’t want him to end up going off a cliff because of some damn sports car,” she had said. As it was, the Accord had the best, most powerful engine Jerith could find—the whole spoiler package, the best rims, the most expensive stereo system, a leather interior, and every other gadget known to man.
Ryan turned to look at Jerith, who stood in the doorway. There were actual tears in his eyes as he strode over to hug his stepfather. He had long since started calling himself Ryan Michaels, even though John refused to allow Jerith to adopt Ryan legally.
“Thanks, Kid. Jesus… this is too cool,” he said, not even sure what to say to properly thank him. “I don’t know what to say, man.”
“Say you’ll be careful, or your mom’ll kill me,” Jerith said, smiling at Nicolette over Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan nodded, and then turned to his mother, reaching out to hug her.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said. Then he pulled away and grinned rakishly. “Anybody want to go for a ride?”
****
A week later, Jerith did something he’d never planned to do—he found himself on Billy’s front doorstep. He pushed the buzzer.
“Yes?”
“Billy, it’s me,” Jerith said hesitantly.
There was silence for a long moment, and Jerith wondered if she was even going to let him in. Then the intercom buzzed to life again. “Come in,” she said, her tone noncommittal, and Jerith heard the lock click open. He reached for the door handle, wondering what he would find inside.
Billy Montague was still trying to recover from the shock that Jerith had actually come to see her. She had never really expected to hear from him again. She met him as he came down the hallway toward her living room.
Jerith was taken aback by her appearance. Billy looked fantastic, better than she had in years. Her eyes were bright and clear, she looked physically fit, and she basically seemed to glow with health. Jerith stopped in his tracks, staring wide-eyed.
“What?” Billy asked, surprised by his reaction.
“Didn’t you almost die a while back?” he said, then gave her a wry grin. “Or was that a different Billy Montague?”
Billy shook her head, smiling. “You don’t know how right you are, Kid,” she said, walking toward him and hugging him. “I hear your album is doing great. Congratulations.”
When they parted, she turned and walked back toward the living room. She sat on the couch. Jerith joined her, surprising her by sitting closer than she would have expected him to.
“Yeah,” he said in response to her comment. “It’s doing pretty good.”
“Pretty good, he says.” Billy made a face. “It’s climbing the charts like a cat with its butt on fire.”
“Okay, maybe,” Jerith said, grinning. “So how are you?”
Billy looked at him for a long moment, surprised that he even cared. Jerith noticed her hesitation and looked immediately contrite. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner, I just…” he started, but Billy shook her head.
“Don’t sweat it, Kid. I understand. I was a real mess for a long time, but I’m better now, really,” she said, sounding very sincere.
“Yeah?” Jerith asked quietly.
“Yeah. I am really glad you’re doing good, Kid. For all the shit you put up with from me, you deserve this now. And I note that your marriage is going well.”
Jerith grinned widely. “You could say that.”
“Jesus, she’s practically a household name right up there with you,” Billy said, without any sort of jealousy in her voice.
Jerith was surprised. “Yeah, much to her dismay.”
They talked for a while, and eventually Jerith stood to leave. Billy stood too, and hugged him again. Jerith noticed that she held him for a little bit longer than normal, and he pulled away, looking down at her. As he’d suspected, she had tears in her eyes.
“What is it, Billy?” he asked softly.
Billy shook her head. “I just… Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” she said, not wanting to try and explain how awful she felt all of a sudden.
“It does matter,” Jerith said, searching her eyes. “Tell me.”
Billy looked away from him, trying to regain her composure. “I just felt sad all of a sudden. I guess I thought about what we had—you know, as a band—and how I threw all of that away. Jesus, Kid, I almost managed to get you killed.” She sounded shocked at the thought.
Jerith said nothing, only nodded. He didn’t want to tell her it was alright, because he knew it wasn’t, and he didn’t want to lie.
Billy looked at him for a long minute, then reached up to touch his face gently where one of the scratches he’d received in the incident at the concert hadn’t disappeared totally. It was a thin white line half an inch long. “I think about that now, and I just feel sick. If you’d have been killed, I don’t know what I would have done. I probably would have actually managed to kill myself,” she said, shrugging.
“Hey.” Jerith reached out to hug her again. “Don’t say that, Billy. What happened happened, and you’re better now. I can’t say it doesn’t matter, because it did—it was a major turning point in both our lives—but we have to go on now. I have, and you need to for your own sake.”
“I hate it when you’re so damn logical, ya know?” Billy said, grinning up at him with fresh tears in her eyes.
Jerith grinned back. “Yeah, pain in the ass, ain’t it? Look, I want you to come over to the house sometime real soon, okay?”
“Don’t you think Nicolette will hate that? I mean, she hates my guts,” Billy said matter-of-factly.
“She doesn’t hate you, Billy. She was worried about me.”
Billy thought about it for a long time, then nodded. “Got yourself a good one there, huh?”
Jerith nodded. “The best.”
“Well, does she have a brother?”
“Yeah, but he’s married.”
“Figures,” Billy said, laughing.
Jerith left a little while later, securing a promise from her that she would call him anytime, and that she would come to the house the following week for dinner. Billy felt incredibly good after the visit. It was like her life was finally coming back together. She’d been secluded in the house for so long, trying to get healthy again, after all of the garbage she’d pumped into her system over the five months after the breakup of Billy and the Kid. Now she felt like she was really on the mend.
For the next two months, things seemed to get better and better. Billy had dinner with Jerith, Nicolette, and Ryan a few times, and Jerith was very happy to note that she did indeed seem to have cleaned herself up.
Nicolette asked him about it one night after they’d all had dinner.
“You’re happy that she seems okay, aren’t you?” She was lying with her head on his chest. They’d just made love, and were drifting in and out of sleep. His hand on her shoulder tightened as he appreciated once again how well she knew him.
“Yeah, I am. I guess I was worried that she’d never make it back after all that…” He trailed off as he thought back.
“And you were worried that you caused her latest suicide attempt by kicking her out of the band, right?”
Jerith grinned. He’d never said as much, not even really realized it, but she was right. “Just when did you get omnipotent, and know everything about me?”
“Jerith, I see how you look now, compared to how you did when you heard about her suicide attempt, and I know guilt when I see it. I’m a cop, remember?”
“Like I could ever forget.” Jerith kissed the top of her head. “I love you anyway.”
“Gee, thanks,” Nicolette said, kissing his bare chest softly.
Jerith grinned again. “Don’t mention it.”
Nicolette moved to sit up, looking down at him. “What if she wanted to get the band back together—would you do it?” She watched him closely, knowing that he didn’t always tell her what he really wanted to; instead he’d say what he thought she wanted to hear.
Jerith narrowed his eyes, considering the question. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do all that again, take that chance.” Then he looked directly into her eyes. “Didn’t you tell me, ‘Once an addict, always an addict.’?”
Now it was Nicolette’s turn to think back. “Yes, I did, but there are a lot of people that live with addictions every day, and they’re productive members of society.”
“But not famous people,” Jerith said intuitively. Sometimes Nicolette left out things to make him feel better—he knew that.
“There’s cases of famous people who recover from alcoholism and go on to have long careers. I guess drugs could be the same way. I mean, look at Robert Downey Jr.—he survived drug abuse and is on a comeback. It could be the same for Billy.”
“But you doubt it, right?”
Nicolette looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Stop trying to outthink me, Jerith Joshua Michaels.”
“Why did I ever let my mother tell you my middle name?” Jerith said, rolling his eyes.
“Because she would have told me anyway, and you know it. And stop trying to avoid the point. I think a lot of rock stars wouldn’t make it back from an addiction like cocaine, and maybe Billy won’t either, but I think you should see what happens.”
“Did she talk to you about getting Billy and the Kid back together?” Jerith asked, surprised. Billy wasn’t really into confidences with other women; she always said women liked to gossip too much.
“No, she didn’t say anything. I can just see how much she misses the business when she talks to you about your album and all that.”
“Hmm,” Jerith said, giving her a contemplative look. “You’re actually beginning to like her now, aren’t you?”
“Now that she’s not trying to take you out with her, yes, I can see why you liked her originally.”
“Interesting,” Jerith said, pulling her back down on the bed next to him and kissing her. All conversation was forgotten a few minutes later.
Three weeks later, Jerith and Nicolette left on their very belated honeymoon. They were allowing Ryan to stay on his own at the house. Nicolette knew he’d have a few parties in the month that they’d be gone, but she had also come to trust him a lot more over the last few months. He had been very responsible with the car Jerith had bought him. He religiously changed the oil and checked the fluids, and whenever it made even the slightest odd sound he told Jerith about it. Nicolette had found that Jerith was a pretty fair mechanic in his own right too, and he had taught Ryan everything he knew.
They left for Europe, and Nicolette promised to call Ryan every day, which she did. They saw everything and did everything that Nicolette had ever dreamed of. Lying in a hotel room in Rome one night, she told Jerith that being with him was like a dream come true.
Jerith propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. “Is that how you see me?” he said with no conceit whatsoever.
Nicolette nodded, staring up into his eyes.
“See, and that’s just what I’ve thought about you this whole time,” he said, grinning.
Nicolette smiled. “Such a smart boy.”
****
Back in Los Angeles, Billy Montague was awoken at 10:00 p.m. by the sound of her doorbell. She rolled over wearily and pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”
“Billy?”
“Yes?” she said, trying to place the voice.
“It’s me, Billy. It’s Skyler.”
“Skyler?” Billy breathed, in complete shock.
“Boy, either your hearing is going bad or you need a new intercom system,” he quipped. “Can I come in or not?”
Billy could almost see him smiling. “Yes, of course,” she said, struggling to regain her composure. It had been a few weeks now since she’d actually had a conscious thought about him. She’d only thought about him in her therapy sessions, and only then to explain what she thought her mistakes were. Blaming Skyler for her drug use had been a big one.
Billy was still contemplating the thought that he had actually come to see her when he walked into her bedroom. She had turned the light on when she answered the intercom, so he had naturally assumed she was there.
Billy was stunned by her almost instant reaction to him. He looked as incredible and as fit as ever, wearing black chinos, a tan shirt, and black boots. His hair was a little bit longer, she noted, but everything else was the same. She shook her head, trying to clear it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said, giving her a brilliant smile.
“I guess I never get over what an incredible-looking man you are, that’s all.”
Skyler grinned and walked a few steps closer, moving to sit on the bed next to her. His gaze searched her face and then her eyes. “I’d have to say you look pretty incredible yourself, young lady.”
“Ten miles a day on a treadmill, a billion glasses of water, and a whole lot of vitamins will do that to you,” Billy said, rolling her eyes.
Skyler looked at her seriously. “I mean it, Billy. You look great.”
Billy became serious then too. “I’ve been clean for almost nine months now.”
“That’s a major achievement.”
Billy was quiet for a long moment, then looked at him questioningly. “So what are you doing here? I thought you hated LA.”
“I don’t hate LA, I just hate the party life you were leading,” he said matter-of-factly.
Billy shook her head, grinning sardonically. “Leave it to you, Skyler James Kristiani, to give it to me straight.”
“You want I should lie?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“You could try candy-coating it every now and then. But seriously, what are you doing here?”
Skyler narrowed his light green eyes at her just slightly. “You mean here in LA, or here at your house?”
Billy didn’t reply at first, then sighed. “I guess I mostly want to know why you’re here at my house. It’s just the last thing I ever expected.”
Skyler nodded gravely, staring down at the floor. Then he looked up at her again. “I was kind of an asshole, Billy. I could have come when you tried to hurt yourself again, but I just couldn’t afford to get sucked into all that again…” He trailed off as he looked at her apologetically.
Billy laughed in a self-depreciating way as she shook her head. “You know, it’s funny. Kid came to see me a few months back, and he said almost the same thing.” She reached out and touched his hand, looking up at him. “I am not your responsibility, Skyler, and I’m not Jerith’s either. My habit and my psyche are my responsibility.”
Skyler looked at her for a long moment, and then closed his eyes. Billy could almost see the relief flood his veins.
“Jesus, Skyler, you really were convinced it was your fault I was doing drugs, weren’t you?”
He opened his eyes, looking at her again. He finally nodded slowly.
“But you said yourself that I was only using you as an excuse to keep doing the drugs,” Billy said, suddenly feeling the pressure of having impacted yet another person with her addiction.
“And what am I? A doctor?”
“Don’t do that,” Billy said, her voice emotional suddenly. “You were right. You were right about everything. I’ve had long sessions with a psychologist, and she says that you were a means to continue doing drugs. I fixated on you, probably because I knew you’d never be able to make a serious commitment to me, and used it as a reason to continue along my self-destructive little path. And you know the funny thing, Sky? The funny thing is that it all stems from my mother. Her lack of ability to stay with one guy, her lack of commitment to raising me, even though she had me and kept me. It all came from that.” She shrugged, again reaching out and this time taking his hand. “She says I probably became obsessed with you in the first place because you were married, and therefore I could bet I wouldn’t get a commitment from you.”
Skyler had listened to her with serious eyes, flinching a few times when she referred to being fixated or obsessed. “And now?”
“Now,” Billy said, sounding very grown up all of a sudden, “I’ve accepted the fact that you were an unhealthy obsession and that you have your own life to lead.”
Skyler nodded. “So what happened in Sacramento was…”
“All me, my obsession, my addiction.”
Again Skyler nodded, as if he were trying to assimilate everything she was saying.
“So how are you, anyway?” Billy said, trying to steer the conversation to less sensitive areas, but accidently backing into another one. “Are you and Theresa remarried, or what?” she asked, ready to face the truth head-on.
Skyler was still churning over her previous statements in his mind, so it took him a few moments to catch what she had just asked. He looked up at her then, his lips tugging in a lopsided grin. “Remarried? Me and Terry?” He laughed. “Hardly. In fact, I think she’s getting married sometime next month to a guy in her office.” He looked at her quizzically. “Whatever gave you the idea that Terry and I were back together?”
Billy was reeling. She stared at him for a long minute, blinking. She hadn’t heard him correctly, couldn’t have. “I…” she began, trying to gather her thoughts. “I called—your machine picked up and gave a message that if it was an emergency to call this other number…” Again she trailed off, as she tried to figure out where her reasoning had gone wrong. “Chelsea answered, and I asked for you. She said you weren’t there, but did I want to talk to her mother…”
Skyler was nodding now, with an open grin on his face. “Go on,” he said lightly.
“I tried a few more times, and I always got the same message,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him as he actually started to smile.
“How many days in a row did you call?”
Billy hesitated, trying to recall. She’d been doing a lot of cocaine in-between the calls as she’d grown angrier and angrier. “Probably like ten days.”
“Well, you could have called for a full two months and gotten that same message,” Skyler said, his smile still in place as he shrugged. “Terry got into a car accident about a week after you came up to Sacramento. She had a broken collar bone, a broken arm, and both legs were in casts too. She needed more help than Chelsea could provide, and I was basically the only other logical choice, considering some of the more personal things that had to be done—bathroom stuff and all that. I just moved in with them for the time it took Terry to heal.” He looked her straight in the eye. “If you’d bothered to leave a message, I could have explained that to you then.”
Billy stared at him openmouthed for a full minute, and then she started to laugh. Eventually she laughed so hard she had tears running down her face. “You know,” she said, sitting back up and wiping the tears from her eyes as she continued to chuckle. “This is really kind of sad, Skyler, but it’s so sad it’s funny too.” When Skyler gave her a cynical “I think you’re losing the rest of the marbles you came here with” look, she explained. “I had convinced myself that you were back together with Theresa, and that’s what sent me on the bender that culminated in my swan dive into the crowd. Which resulted in my exit stage left from Billy and the Kid, which skidded me into yet another long bender. Which landed me in my bathroom nine months ago with a razor blade and no shining knight to stop me this time.”
“Jesus…” Skyler breathed, not finding anything about her recitation even remotely amusing.
“Tell me,” Billy said seriously. “Try lying in a pool of your own blood, on the very brink of unconsciousness and suddenly realizing you don’t want to die…”
Skyler literally paled at her description. “Billy…” he said, his guilt renewed.
“No, Skyler, no.” Billy shook her head at him as if he were a dull-witted child. “It wasn’t you, it was me, my screwed up sense of reasoning. Nothing you could have done at that point would have changed a thing. Except maybe you would have been an unfortunate victim, like Kid was. He could have died at that concert, and it would have been all because of me, and my problem, and the fact that he cared about me after all I had done to him.”
“Wow… That’s a lot to deal with alone,” Skyler said, reaching out to touch her cheek, as if she weren’t real.
“Yeah, but that’s how I needed to deal with it. I had to want to change, I had to want to quit, I had to understand why I was the way I was. And now I do,” Billy said, and Skyler was once again astounded by her strength.
“And all that stuff in Sacramento—all the stuff ten years ago…”
“I thought we covered that,” Billy said, grinning.
Skyler grinned back. “We did. I guess I was looking for clarification.”
“On what point?”
“Well,” he said, bringing one leg up onto the bed as he turned sideways to face her more comfortably, as if settling in for a long discussion. “Let me get this straight. You were interested in me because you were sure you couldn’t have me?”
“Right.”
“And when you did have me, you wanted me because you didn’t think you could keep me?”
“Uh-huh,” Billy said, nodding, with a slow smile starting on her face as she realized how really crazy it sounded.
“So, you never really wanted me at all?”
“Well, no, I didn’t,” Billy said, trying to reason through what he was saying. “It was the idea of being with you, the idea of you altogether, you know?”
Skyler looked at her for a long moment. “No, I can’t say I do.”
“What part don’t you understand?” she asked, honestly wanting to explain everything to him.
“You’re telling me that now you’re totally cured?”
“Yes,” Billy said, starting to get a little exasperated by his confusion.
“Of me.”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” He moved a little bit closer to her.
“Yes,” she said again, sitting up straighter.
“Positive?” he asked as he brought his head down, putting his lips just millimeters from hers.
“Skyler,” she whispered.
“What?” he whispered back, moving closer still.
“I—” she started to say, but her words were cut off when his lips pressed into hers.
Her hands quickly found their way around his neck as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush with his body. The kiss held all the intense passion they had always shared. It became very evident that she was nowhere near “cured” of her desire for him.
When his lips left hers, they trailed down her neck as his hands caressed her back, sliding up under her T-shirt to touch her bare skin. Billy gasped at the feel of his hands on her, as if she’d been burned by their presence, but she bent her head to bury her face in his thick hair. When he made his way back up to her lips, she reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it and sliding her hands inside. Skyler gasped as her nails grazed his chest. He reached out and pulled her T-shirt off over her head. He bent his head to her breasts, and Billy literally cried out from the sensation of his lips’ insistent pressure.
Their lovemaking was as frenzied as it had always been. A couple of hours later they lay together, both attempting to catch their breath. Billy lay over him with her forehead against his shoulder, her jet black curls falling all around him. Skyler’s hands were buried in her hair, and his lips pressed against the side of her head.
“You’re not even close to being over me, Billy,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re about as close as I am to being over you.” He hugged her tighter then, and they fell asleep together.
Skyler woke before her and looked around him, loath to move and wake her up. He couldn’t believe how easy it had been to be drawn in by her again. He had meant what he had said before they fell asleep; he was nowhere near being over her, although he had convinced himself that he was. Listening to her tell him about her addiction and how he had just been an object of that addiction had made him want to force her to want him again. He hadn’t realized how easy it would be, or how much he really wanted her to want him. In retrospect, he knew he had been kidding himself to think that everything with her had been purely physical. She had needed him, relied on him, desired him, and excited him like no other woman had ever done. It was a very difficult combination to walk away from.
Billy stirred and lifted her head to look at him. “Hi there,” she said, smiling, her blue eyes shining brightly.
Instead of replying, Skyler kissed her, which got them started all over again. It was hours before either of them had the energy to even consider moving. Eventually, they padded down the hall to her kitchen, where they snacked on cookies, drank Pepsi, and talked about general things.
“So what do you plan to do now?” Skyler asked, sitting on the island in the center of the room, his long legs dangling.
“Well,” Billy said, taking a drink from the can he held, “if I don’t do something soon, everything around you will be gone. Unfortunately, I picked one of the more expensive habits,” she said, grimacing. Her mortification was evident.
“At least you still have a house. A lot of junkies sell everything they have to buy one more hit.”
“Oh, believe me, if I hadn’t tried to kill myself, I’d have eventually sold everything to support my habit.” She shrugged. “Probably even myself.”
Skyler looked at her for a long moment, wondering at her ability to adjust so quickly. “So what are your plans? Or have you made any?”
“Not really. I guess I’ve been kind of marking time, hoping that I’d have some other options open up. But nothing has.” Billy looked desolate.
“Have you talked to your manager since all this happened?” he asked, unaware of the relationship she’d had with Alan Rothe.
Billy laughed out loud. “Not hardly. Oh,” she said then, realizing his lack of knowledge on the issue. “I guess you don’t know. Alan and I… Well, we were a thing for a while on the tour—things didn’t exactly go well.” She looked chagrined then. “I even tried to fire him at one point, but he had a contract.” She shrugged.
“Does he still have a contract?”
Billy thought about it for a minute, then shrugged again. “Probably, but what difference does that make? Billy and the Kid is kaput, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I’d have a lawyer check it out, and see if he still has to represent one of the parties of the band. I’m sure Jerith’s not using him…” he said, trailing off as Billy looked at him strangely.
“You think I should get back into the business?” She sounded surprised.
“I think you are a fantastic singer and you need to do something with it,” Skyler said noncommittally.
“You don’t understand, Sky. Nobody would trust me anymore. I’m an addict,” she said simply, as if referring to her religion.
“What about Jerith?” Skyler asked, but Billy shook her head immediately.
“No way. I won’t even ask him.”
“Why not?”
“Duh, Skyler, don’t you read the papers? Don’t you remember what happened in Washington? I almost got the man killed—you think he wants to get a band back together with me? He’s doin’ just fine on his own, anyway. He doesn’t need me.” She shrugged, looking almost depressed. “Hell, with a voice like that, he never really did need me.”
“I don’t think that’s a very accurate statement,” Skyler said quietly.
“Why not?” Billy asked cynically.
“Because you were half of Billy and the Kid, and there was more to the two of you than just your voice and his guitar.”
Billy looked at him for a long moment, not sure what to say. Eventually she just shrugged, and dropped the subject. Skyler didn’t forget about it though. He knew he was right.
“So you never did tell me what you’re doing here in LA,” Billy said, moving to stand between his legs. She looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his.
“I didn’t?” Skyler said wryly.
“You aren’t just here because of me.”
“What if I said I was?”
Billy stared up at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I’m not fallin’ for it, Skyler James.”
Skyler smiled, holding up his hands. “Okay, you got me. I’m workin’ here now.”
Billy was stunned. “No way…”
“Yep, I’m in charge of the Long Beach office.”
“How long have you been down here?”
Skyler looked at his watch. “’Bout six hours,” he said, grinning.
“You mean you haven’t really started yet?”
“I mean I have two weeks off, and you were the first person I wanted to see when I brought the plane in,” Skyler said, his look direct.
“Wow.” She grinned. “And all this time—” she started to say, referring to Theresa, but then shook her head.
“All this time you’ve been wrong,” Skyler said as he tipped her face up to his and bent to kiss her. The kiss quickly turned passionate again, as if their time apart had given them something to make up for. They made love in her kitchen with most of the lights off, and eventually went back to her bedroom.
Later Billy lay next to him, with her hand placed possessively on his chest. “Sky,” she said hesitantly.
“Yeah?” He sounded tired, but relaxed.
“What does this mean for us?” she asked, wanting to know where she stood with him.
“This?” He raised his eyebrow at her as he indicated their bodies lying together.
Billy flexed the hand that rested on his chest, digging her nails in just slightly, even as Skyler laughed. “Don’t be difficult, Skyler James,” she said, grinning at him.
“Okay, okay,” he said, sliding his hand up her bare arm and looking down at her. “Would you kill me if I said that I just want us to be together and see how things go?”
Billy gave him a brilliant smile. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He grinned sardonically. “Glad I could oblige.”
With that settled they drifted off to sleep.
They spent the next two weeks looking for a place for Skyler to live. He had sold his house in Sacramento and was looking to buy something reasonable.
“You’re in the wrong town,” Billy chided him.
“No, I’m not,” he said, looking over at her, his eyes serious.
Billy was warmed by his words. Things between them were better than ever. It was as if all the undercurrents of anger, jealously, and abuse were gone. They had easily settled into a comfortable relationship.
Skyler didn’t bring up her career again, but when Jerith returned from Europe with Nicolette, he went to talk to him.
****
Jerith was still jubilant over returning to the States to find that his album had gone to number one. He was surprised when Skyler showed up at the house, but invited him in nonetheless.
“I heard about your album on the way over here,” Skyler said, extending his hand. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Jerith said, his ecstatic smile impossible to hide.
Nicolette walked into the room then, and was surprised to see Skyler. She went over and reached out her hand. “Hi,” she said. “How are you?” She gestured for Skyler to sit down, and she and Jerith did the same.
“Oh, fine,” Skyler said, looking around. “Nice place.” He grinned, thinking of some of the dumps he’d been looking at over the last couple of weeks.
“Thanks,” Jerith said, but he was already looking at him seriously. “So, what brings you here?” He was sure that it had something to do with Billy. Even in Paris, he and Nicolette had seen the reports of Billy Montague with her mystery man again.
Skyler could tell by Jerith’s tone that he already had an inkling, so he decided to be direct. “Well, I want to talk to you about the odds of a reunion.”
Nicolette looked at Jerith, and Jerith just stared back at Skyler. “Did Billy ask you to come here?” he said, surprised. Billy hadn’t said anything to him about wanting to get the band back together.
“Billy is still mortified by what happened. She’d probably kill me if she knew I was here… but I know it’s what she wants,” Skyler said, his concern for her clear.
Jerith didn’t say anything for a long moment, his blue eyes trailing over to his wife. Skyler looked at Nicolette, wondering at Jerith’s apparent desire for her approval. He could see the obvious respect and adoration on both faces, and he found himself envious of them. He had heard about Jerith’s album up in Sacramento, and he’d heard the stories about his apparent devotion to his wife and son. Skyler thought it was great. Now, watching them, he could see that Jerith wanted Nicolette’s opinion on the matter. Skyler was about to offer to leave them alone when he saw Nicolette’s nod as her eyes trailed back over to him.
Jerith looked at Skyler then. “I’ll talk to Billy,” he said, his tone noncommittal—but Skyler was pleased that he’d even consider it.
A week later, at lunch, Jerith asked Billy about what she was doing.
“Not much,” she said, shrugging, but looking happy all the same. “I guess you saw that Skyler’s back in my life.” Her voice took on a cautious note then; she knew how Jerith had always felt about her unhealthy relationship with Skyler Kristiani.
Jerith surprised her by smiling. “Yeah, I heard. How are things with the two of you?”
“You know, I thought I was over him. I thought he’d just been a product of all my baggage, but he’s not. He’s been wonderful.”
“I’m glad,” Jerith said honestly. “What about your career? What do you want to do?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.
“Skyler asked me the same thing, and I just don’t know.” She shook her head sadly. “I guess I never realized that singing was all I ever really knew.”
“How’s your voice?” Jerith said, still nonchalant.
“To tell you the truth, Kid… I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve only been singing with the radio—hard to tell.”
Jerith nodded, his chin resting on his hand with his elbow on the table. “Well,” he said, moving to clasp his hands in front of him as he leaned toward her. “If you want to stop by the studio sometime, I could run you through, and you could see what shape you’re in…”
“That’d be great, Kid,” Billy said, smiling. “Although even if I can still sing, it’s probably a moot point anyway. My name is basically Mudd in the music industry right now.”
“Well, maybe with the right representation…” Jerith said, indicating that she might be able to get something. “I hear commercial work is profitable,” he said, looking serious.
Billy nodded, not even wanting to think about singing jingles for commercials. But the idea of testing out her voice was appealing to her; that way she’d at least know if she could still sing.
Two weeks later, she called Jerith, asking him if today would be a good day to come by. Jerith hesitated for a long moment, and then told her it would be fine, that he’d meet her there after lunch. She agreed and hung up, looking over at Skyler, who was standing in her bedroom buttoning his shirt. He’d moved into her place “for the time being,” he’d said, but Billy was determined to keep him there with her.
“What’d he say?” Skyler asked, glancing at her as he reached for his holster, gun, and badge.
“He said he’d meet me there,” Billy said, standing from the bed and walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are yet this morning?”
“No.” Skyler grinned down at her. “But I do believe you demonstrated how appealing I am to you this morning…” He trailed off, and Billy started to laugh. Their lovemaking had remained as exciting as ever, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.
“And you’re sure you have to go in this morning…”
“Yes, Billy, I’m sure,” Skyler said, reaching for his watch even as she rested her head against his chest. “I told you, I have the SAC meeting today.”
“And a SAC is what, again?”
“A special agent in charge, babe.” Skyler knew she was just stalling him. He looked at his watch as he put it on, holding his arm above her head. “And I’m already runnin’ late.”
Billy reluctantly released her hold on his waist and reached up to kiss him, her lips lingering on his. Skyler had to force himself away from her. “Damn, you drive me crazy,” he said, but Billy knew he meant it in a good way.
“I do try,” she said.
Skyler only nodded as he turned and grabbed his jacket off the back of the Eastlake chair in the corner of her room, then picked his keys up off the dresser.
“I gotta go. But I want you to call me and tell me how the studio went, okay?”
“I will,” Billy said, following him to the front door. There she kissed him goodbye, and stood watching until his red Mustang drove out of sight. Then she turned and went to prepare for her day.
At one o’clock that afternoon, she stood nervously outside the same studio where she and the band had always worked. She knew Jerith was already there; his black BMW Z4 was sitting in the parking lot. Taking a deep breath, she went inside and walked down the long hallway. When she walked into the studio, she was stunned to see Tommy and Dave, the drummer and bassist for Billy and the Kid, talking to Jerith, who was standing with his back to her. They stopped when she walked in, and looked over at her. Jerith turned around, and with a wide smile said, “I thought this might be a good day for a reunion.”
Billy stared at him for a long moment, stunned, then understanding dawned—or at least what she hoped she understood. “You mean…”
Jerith looked back at her, his eyes on hers. “I mean, Billy and the Kid.”
Without hesitating for an instant, Billy ran to Jerith and threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time. “Thank you, thank you,” she whispered over and over into his hair.