19. Chapter Nineteen

“Ready to roll?” Deuce asked as he hopped on the bus after us. The hardest damn thing I’d done was say goodbye to a sleeping Reagan this morning. He woke up long enough to give me a sweet ass send off, but damn, it took all I had not to crawl back into bed with him.

“Someone smells freshly fucked.” Marley sniffed hard and loud as he walked past me to the fridge. “Mmm, all my favorites.”

“What don’t you eat?” Jason rolled his eyes. “The guy is a bottomless pit.”

“Nah, man,” Marley shoved an entire snack cake of some sort into his pie hole. “Are you guys as fucking stoked as I am? We finally made it!” Thankfully my past didn’t ruin it for them.

“Scoot over,” Nigel came over to join us at the table. “I’m pretty damn excited. Not thrilled being away from my kid that long but looking forward to not being so financially strapped.” That I more than understood, though I didn’t say so since I was the only one of us without a regular day job and no real bills to spend my advance on. Did they view me as privileged? I sure as hell hoped not. Maybe I could get the rest of my guitars out of hock. Or should I just start over since I kept the most important ones?

Joey and Stoli were in their bus behind us, same with Mickey, River, and Benny. Jeremiah and Seltzer had left for Vegas last week, they’d meet us there. Easton said he and Diamond would hit the shows when time allowed, but this was really Jeremiah’s team to manage, and I respected that.

“Just got an email from Jeremiah,” Jason held his hand up like he was in school, waiting for the teacher to call on him. “We’re playing the Vegas shows first then down to AZ and over to LA before heading back to Seattle.” They’d toyed with going to LA before AZ but I’m glad they’d stuck with AZ first. Shorter travel time made more sense to me.

We were still a couple days out before we hit Vegas, but it gave me time to practice the new songs along with the exercises the doctor gave me to help combat the nightmares. Image Rehearsal Therapy she’d called it. I kept a separate notebook for that, one privately tucked away in my bunk. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to completely rewrite a single one of my nightmares yet, though many had been started. Each time I got to the beatings, rage consumed me and I couldn’t get past the need to run. “Do you guys get nervous before each show or is it just me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jason admitted. Marley was a freaking sugar child. He bounced off the walls so for him playing was probably a way to run off his excess energy. Marley reminded me of a husky I once saw at a dog park. He had enough energy to fuel Japan.

“Same,” Nigel agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I freaking love it but until we dive into the first song I’m a bundle of nerves.”

“For me, getting the crowd riled up draws me in and shakes it off.” Jason had that magical touch, the Midas of our band. As soon as he addressed the crowd, he had them eating from his palm.

“We’ll be in Vegas for a week, back-to-back shows.” Jason’s face was buried in his phone as he read through Jeremiah’s email. “Whoa.”

“Whoa what?”

“Well, we play a couple places like Counts and House of Blues, but we also have a show at the MGM Grand.” Jason’s wide eyes met ours.

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed. Gentlemen, thank you for taking a chance on us and riding out the last ten years. Josh, you’re new but in my opinion, you were the missing link to make this band whole. Thanks for showing up to the audition.” The sincerity in Jason’s words was real.

“Thanks for not obsessing over my past and believing in me.”

“Dude, I was a total dick to you and I’m sorry.” Nigel fist bumped me. “I just have a hard time trusting.”

“That I more than understand.” No need to further explain. They’d heard and seen enough when I fell out of the bunk. Not one of them called me out but all three of my bandmates took me aside privately to say they were there for me however I needed them to be. Maybe being vulnerable to my friends wasn’t a bad thing. Definitely turned things around with my band brothers and Joey and Stoli. Hell, Easton, too.

Sometimes even Karma turned around. You just had to fight past the demons and prove yourself. Then she moved on.

“Where are we playing in AZ?” It was different being on this side of things, part of the band the listeners came to see. No more behind the scenes for me. Now I’d be in the limelight for all the right reasons, and I was ready to grab that bitch by the horns and ride her into submission. “Have you seen our merch? I’d like to snag a couple shirts to wear onstage.” Might as well boost sales while playing.

“Shit, I forgot.” Jason shook his head. “There are cases of free merch under the bus for us. Shirts, tanks, hoodies, sticks for you Nigel, picks for Josh and Marley. All kinds of cool shit that mirrors what’ll be sold at the shows.”

“Fucking right on.” Marley cracked me up. Steadily catching Pokémon but the word free grabbed his attention mid-battle. “Hey, do you think Diamond could set us up with his tattoo guy, Mash? I’d love to add to my sleeve.”

“I’d love to add our band logo.” I glanced down at the skin on my arms and chest. “Um, somewhere?”

“What about your dick?” Marley joked.

“Already done.” When that was met with silence, I glanced up. All eyes were on me, including Deuce’s. “What?”

“You’re serious? Your junk is tattooed?” Nigel asked.

“Yeah. It’s one piece on my groin that kind of swirls onto my dick. Wanna see?” I had no problem whipping it out. Shit, was that something I had to run past Reagan first?

“Yeah, I fucking do.” Of course, Marley would push it. They sat up as I slid from the booth and pushed my pants down. “Holy shit, didn’t that hurt?”

“Meh, don’t really remember it. I was pretty fucked up at the time.” Hell, I barely remembered having it done.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to get tattoos while under the influence?” Jason was our by the rules guy.

“Money talks, my man.”

“Jesus, your junk is tatted, and Diamond’s is pierced.” Marley shook his head. “Not sure I have the cahones to do anything to my cahones, let alone my dick.” He grabbed his crotch and cringed. “But that is pretty freaking bad ass.”

“Um, thanks?” I forgot about all the press Diamond got for flashing his junk in public.

“I should put a huge rainbow above mine with taste the rainbow written above it.” Marley seemed to actually consider that.

“Not sure Skittles or their parent company would be too keen on that,” Jason pointed out. “Just saying. You’ll be in the spotlight now and that shit would get around. Nothing worse than kissing off your newfound income to a lawsuit.”

“Noted and taken under consideration.” For how long, no clue. Marley had the attention span of a two-year-old and was already back to catching Pokémon.

Only a couple of hours into a multi-week trip and I missed Reagan like mad and fired off a text to him.

Me: Miss you like mad. Gonna be a long ass month.

Reagan: Video sex? Just not now cause I’m at the bar.

Me: Yeah, I’m not too keen on sharing though FYI, I did show my junk to my bandmates. And Deuce.

I could almost hear his eyes roll.

Reagan: Do I even want to know?

Me: Not as nefarious as you think. We were talking tats, one conversation led to another and…yeah.

Reagan: Makes sense in a this is Josh’s world kind of way ??

Me: hahaha, one of many reasons why I love you. You get me like no one ever has.

Reagan: Or will ever be allowed to. Gotta go, bar’s hopping. I love you too. Chat later?

Me: You know it.

Just that easily, my lonely world was righted by a simple chat with my man. Could I see myself putting a ring on it? Yeah. For the first time in my life, I saw that kind of forever for myself and Reagan. Crystal fucking clear.

Life, you may have kicked my ass in round one, but I’m dominating the fuck out of round two.

You’d think falling asleep with a smile on your face and pleasant thoughts on your mind would curtail a nightmare. But you’d be wrong. At least this time, I didn’t land on my ass between the bunks. I grabbed both notebooks and headed for the dining table, muttering to myself, “Stupid fucking brain.” Wouldn’t it be great to have a key to turn it off and on? Big cup of coffee in hand, I set off to rewrite these fucking nightmares I’d started and then pushed aside.

What compelled my old man lash out like he had? I was just a kid, a helpless child he abused. Barely able to feed myself before he used me as a punching bag and threatened to make me one of his whores. He knew what Dalton did to me, hell, he stood there and laughed as I cried. Great, another fucking issue for my therapist.

Rape.

Fuck. On top of everything else, I was a victim of rape. A night I worked so hard to file deep in the depths of my mind, only tonight it chose to break free. I was only a fucking kid. God damn it, where’s a punching bag when you needed one?

That was the night I ran away. His evil cackle still haunted my mind. The glint in his eyes as Dalton took my virginity and all he saw were dollar signs. I’d hate to think how my life would have been had I stuck around. Another fucking whore to pay for his worthless existence. He had no right to any of our bodies. Not mine. Not my mother’s. Not anyone.

Deuce came out of the back bedroom as I frantically wiped the tears from my face and took a seat across from me. “Some of the shit I saw when I was in Afghanistan still haunts me. Faces, names, all the blood. So much fucking blood.” He shook his head. A familiar sight, having used it like a magic brain eraser myself. “Working for Fizzbo, he knows these things and he’s seen them firsthand. Our mental wellbeing is first and foremost to him. We go through extensive evaluations, and he offers professional help to us that the company pays for. He doesn’t force it, but his reasoning was hard to walk away from when he’s in the same boat as us. PTSD is no laughing matter. It’s the leading cause of the high suicide rate in returning veterans.”

How did I reply to that? I barely knew this man, yet he opened up to me and didn’t hold back. “I’m, um, Easton hooked me up with his therapist.” I pushed the notebook toward him, and let it speak for me as he flipped through it. “Imagery Rehearsal Therapy. She says if I rewrite my nightmares, like trick my mind into believing they were happy thoughts, more or less, that it would help. I haven’t been able to do it yet.”

“This shit fucking breaks you. It’s hard enough to battle it in your sleep let alone when you’re awake. But she’s right, it does help. The mind is a complex thing. You never know what it will latch onto and what it will let go of.” Fucking hell, Deuce did understand.

“I’ll never understand the need to hurt a child, or any human for that matter.” Says he who hurt Joey. “Drawing blood versus mind fucking. Is one the lesser evil of the two?”

“Both are fucked up if you ask me but sometimes, we have do things in order to survive, as I had. Don’t beat yourself up over mistakes from your past but use them to draw from and rebuild yourself stronger than you were before. I have. I volunteer with various wounded soldier organizations and local homeless shelters when I’m not on the road. Does it make up for what I did as a soldier? No, but it helps rebuild my sense of self-worth.” Fuck, Deuce was killing me with this. I couldn’t image what he saw or did nor did I want to. I have enough issues of my own to battle. He slid the notebook back in front of me. “This is a good start. I’m glad you’re seeing a professional. You have my number, use it. Don’t be afraid to reach out beyond the guard-principal relationship.” With a nod he returned to his room and left me to my thoughts.

Why did my father like to make me bleed?

Then it came to me, a song, and I hurriedly wrote the lyrics down.

I Bleed Too

Your words are razor sharp

And cut me from deep inside

Why do you feel the need to hurt me

It only makes me run and hide

The physical wounds will heal

Mental ones, not so much

The longer I’m around you

The more I cringe from your touch

Chorus:

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

What’s the reason why you hurt me?

Why do you hate me too?

Every strike of your fist, every curse of your tongue

Cuts me deep, leaving scars that will never heal

Doesn’t it bother you to hurt me like you do

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

The glint in your eyes, the scowl on your face

Images that will never be replaced no matter what I do

The darkness of my dreams, the crunch of bones

All things I never should’ve survived

Long days and lonely nights spent trying to erase you

But everywhere I turn you reappear

What did I do to you to deserve such treatment?

What will it take for you to leave me alone?

Chorus:

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

What’s the reason why you hurt me?

Why do you hate me too?

Every strike of your fist, every curse of your tongue

Cuts me deep, leaving scars that will never heal

Doesn’t it bother you to hurt me like you do

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

One day I’ll forget but never forgive

One day I’ll be free

One day you’ll no longer be a part of me

Chorus:

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

What’s the reason why you hurt me?

Why do you hate me too?

Every strike of your fist, every curse of your tongue

Cuts me deep, leaving scars that will never heal

Doesn’t it bother you to hurt me like you do

In case you didn’t notice, I bleed too

Though I no longer bleed because of you

“Mmm, coffee.” I woke to the wonderful smell and Marley’s smartass words. “Did you sleep here all night?”

I glanced around as the morning fog cleared and my eyes focused. “Guess I did.” Good thing was it was nightmare free, though I’d drooled on my notebook and my back hurt like a mother fucker. I stood and cracked it when out of the side of my eye I saw Jason reading something. “That’s mine.”

“Dude, these lyrics are killer. Depressing as fuck, but I wanna sing them.” Hard to be mad at that especially when he was tapping out a beat on the tabletop.

“I’m gonna shower.” I grabbed the notebooks but left them with the lyrics to “I Bleed Too” while I showered. The showers on buses were quick and sometimes nothing more than a rinse yet somehow was just the boost the morning called for. After I slid into clean clothes, I grabbed my phone and went in search of food. Hopefully Marley left some for the rest of us.

“Just in time,” the man in question said as he plated an omelet and handed it to me.

“Wow, thanks.” I took the free seat beside Jason. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Should be in Vegas by dinner. You and I are with Chase and David, Marley and Nigel are with Rhone. Both houses come with a built-in chef, so I’ve got no complaints.”

“Any other info you need to share, Jase? It’s like we’re getting this as we’re nearly in their driveway.” Nigel’s dry humor conveyed his irritation.

“Well, you’re sleeping in the yard with the rest of the shit for being a dickhead. The first show at Counts is tomorrow night, second show at House of Blues is the following night, then the last night is MGM Grand. We get a day of rest then make the short drive to AZ. Now,” Jason rolled his eyes, “the AZ emails. We’re all staying at Jaxson’s partner’s rental house next door to Jaxson. We have a day’s break when we get there, then back-to-back shows again at The Marquee, The Van Buren, and Arizona Financial Center before heading to LA.” Jason paused, “Once there we play at Whisky a Go Go, Troubadour, and the El Rey Theatre before we head home.”

“Man, playing at Whisky is like a rite of passage for every musician.” Marley got that far away look in his eyes. “Guys, seriously, I’m bursting here.”

“Quit fucking eating,” Nigel nearly growled. Not sure who pissed on his leg today but damn.

“No, jackass, with excitement. This is super major for us.”

“Super major, huh? What’re you, twelve?” Damn, Nigel was in rare form.

“Children,” Deuce stepped in, “maybe separate bunks and a time out is necessary?” Nigel muttered under his breath as he stomped across the bus and slid the curtain to his bunk shut behind him. “ETA twenty minutes.” Deuce ducked around the partition and left us to get our shit together.

We pulled into their cul-de-sac, security already in place throughout the area as Joey, Stoli, Mickey and his partners stepped out of their buses, and we did the same. Both houses emptied out into the road, security was losing their shit trying to protect them from the gawking neighborhood eyes.

“Hey, guys,” a cute little blonde Rhone had a protective arm wrapped around tried to get our attention. When he failed, Rhone released a shrill whistle.

“Fuckers, listen up. Ely’s got an announcement.”

“Thanks, love,” Ely kissed him. “Dinner is in our house.” He pointed toward it and the motley crew that had formed out front followed in a tight, orderly line. Much to my surprise.

“Hey,” Stoli threw an arm around my shoulder. “You doing all right? No nerves?”

“Oh, there are plenty of nerves. Not sure what to expect and it’s way different being on this side rather than behind the scenes.”

“You’ve got this.”

Glad one of us had faith in me.