35 - Women are from Venus

His eyes lit like a Broadway marquee, boldly flashing the message she'd been fearing all along.  Tony thought she was certifiably nuts.

“I don’t know where the hell you got all that, but I don’t need saving,” he told her.  Then his fingers curled very deliberately around her wrist, and he removed her hand from his chest.

Lilah’s heart broke just a little bit.

You knew this could, and probably would happen.  Don’t get your feelin’s hurt.  He’s freaked out and confused.  Focus on him, not yourself.

Turning away from her feelings and corralling any shred of self-confidence that she could find, she pushed her hands into her back pockets and thumbed the threaded design, vainly searching for the right thing to say.  Something that would magically make him believe that something totally improbable was probable..  

“Are you sayin’ I’m wrong?”

“I don’t need saving,” he doggedly repeated, side-stepping her to pick up the empty whiskey glass and put it back on the desk with huff of disgust. 

“Jersey….”  She stepped forward in one of the bolder moves of her lifetime, curling her fingers into the crook of his elbow.  Still unable to locate a magical mantra that would make everything seem orderly and logical again, Lilah was driven to her last resort.

Removing the perpetual filter between her brain and her mouth was a painful process, but she somehow shoved it aside and let her heart and intuition speak for her. 

“Everybody needs savin’,” she countered softly, eyes beseeching his.  “If nothin’ else, we need to be saved from acceptin’ the life we have in place of the life we want.  This isn’t the life you want.  It’s been good, and you’d do anything in the world to help your brother, but your heart isn’t in it anymore.”

His features went dark as a chime rang out from his pocket, but not so much with anger as broodiness.   Lilah had it in her head that his reaction meant she was right, and a cloud lifted off her heart.  At least she knew she wasn’t crazy now.  Nothing made any more sense than it had an hour ago, but at least she knew that whatever happened to her was real. 

With an incoherent grumble, he swiped an impatient finger across the screen and scowled at the message lighting up the display.

Stop pushin’, Lilah Jane.  You’ve had almost a year to get used to this.  Give him some time.

Pushing the phone back into his pocket, Tony grimly, “Jon’s been after me to go out with him and the band for dinner tonight.”

Encourage him to go.  He needs to know you’re not a clingy psycho stalker.

“Sounds like fun.  You do that often?” she inquired politely, dredging up the hint of a smile as she backtracked to the side of the bed where her shoes were.  A walk would expel some of this nervous energy and help her get a handle on the chest pains that were now being borne out of anxiety.

 She was so close to having wasted a year of her life and a big bunch of Amos’s life insurance money… on something that may very well end up costing more much more than that.  Lilah found herself in a position to lose to take another significant loss on her woefully skimpy self-esteem.

“No.”

Tying her Keds, she took a deep breath, hating that he’d reverted to one-word answers.   It meant he’d closed himself off to her, but she directed another strained smile up into his somber face.  Dropping her foot to the floor, she forced an artificial lightness into her voice and commented, “Then it’ll be nice for a change.”

“I haven’t decided if I’m going or not.”

Please just go.  I don’t know what else to say to make you understand.

Lilah stood and wiped her palms down the front of her jeans.  While absently looking for her purse and room key, she inquired, “Oh?  I hope it’s not because of me.  I was just going to go investigate what the hotel has to offer.  Maybe see if they have a gym for the guests and check out the restaurant.” 

And see if there are any other rooms available. 

“Okay.”

She took that to mean he was going to go with the band, and looped her purse over her shoulder, making sure that her phone was inside.  Tucking the key into her pocket, Lilah mentally removed herself from the situation and coached herself to fake some confidence.  Enough confidence to take what she so desperately needed from him if this were going as badly as she feared.  A final kiss.

She miraculously found that elusive confidence hiding in a deep, dark corner of her personality, and Lilah latched onto it with both hands, steeling herself for rejection.  With a deep breath, she slowly lifted onto her toes and pressed soft lips against a disappointingly hard mouth, lingering there for his reaction.

He didn’t recoil, or push her away, but he didn’t return the kiss either. That little bit of heartbreak from earlier became a little more.

“I’m not crazy,” she declared quietly, resigned to the worst possible scenario.  “But I understand if this is… a little too out there for you.  Just tell me, and I’ll be gone.”

Please don’t say it…

She repeated the phrase to herself over and over, holding her breath through each slowly measured step toward the door.  She held it, refusing to let it go until she stood in the hallway, the barrier now closed safely behind her.  Only then did she allow all the air to whoosh out so that a fresh, sweet taste of oxygen could steal into her lungs.

He hadn’t said it. 

Then again, he hadn’t said anything at all.

✧✧✧

There were two cars going to the restaurant.  Jon, Dave and Matt were riding in the first one, and Tony climbed into the second one, joining Tico and Richie.  In the event that his brother was still feeling like a smartass prick, Tony preferred to keep some distance between them.  That would be the smartest thing to do, considering how fucked up his head was right now. 

“You never answered my text, man.” Richie lightly back-handed him in the leg.  “That girl of yours get any happier?”

“Honestly, I got called to the setup and forgot to read the text,” Tony admitted, pulling at the buttons on his off-white ‘going out’ shirt, and crossing his booted ankles as he situated himself in the corner of the seat.  Richie was next to him and Tico was on the other side.  “What did it say?”

“Whoa,” Tico’s gravelly voice interjected as he sat forward to look between the two other dark-headed occupants of the vehicle.  “TBJ has a girl?  Since when?”

“Yeah, Tony, since when?”

“She’s not my girl, she’s…”  What the hell was she?  Fan?  Lover?  Stalker?  Psychic?   Friend?  “She’s just a woman.  I met her in Dublin.”

“Ah.”  Richie kicked one ankle up on the opposite knee, and reared his head back with understanding.  “If she’s ‘ just a woman’, that explains why she was crying in the elevator.”

“When was that?”  Had she left his room crying?  Jesus… that was just what he needed on his conscience along with the rest of this shit.

“Earlier.  I guess she was on her way to her room?  She came outta the bar about the time I hit the lobby, and I rode up with her.”

”Oh.   I couldn’t tell ya.”  Relieved that it was earlier in the day, he thought back on her glassy eyes when she’d come into the room.  It bugged him, but he really couldn’t tell Richie why she might have been.  Maybe she’d been bent out of shape over her big revelation.  So bent out of shape that she’d stopped to have a drink before she came up stairs?

You sure as hell are.

If she’d told it to Richie, he probably wouldn’t have batted an eye.  He was into all that destiny, fate, karma crap, but Tony didn’t have cosmic inclinations.  Yeah, Tony had his Chinese zodiac symbol tattooed on his arm, but he was really more of a concrete guy, believing in what he could see and touch.

“Well, she was doing her best to keep it on the down low,” Richie admitted.  “I offered to lend an ear, but she politely blew me off.”

“So what’s the deal with this ‘just a woman’?” Tico asked interestedly, rubbing a lazy hand over his trademark soul patch.  “You don’t usually pick up tour bunnies that are gonna follow you from town to town.”

Richie snickered.  “She’s not a tour bunny like I’ve ever met.  Least ways not one who’s impressed with our fearless leader.”

“Lilah says she’s one of your girls, Sambo.”  That hadn’t bothered Tony before, but it did now.  The thoughts of Richie charming her into his bed and nicely bidding her farewell after fun was had by all… 

What the fuck difference does it make?  You had her.

“Bro…”  Richie clapped him on the shoulder, his long fingers squeezing into the muscle there for an instant.  “From the little bit I’ve seen, she’s all yours.”

Tony’s gut knotted like a sourdough pretzel, confusion permeating his physical self as well as his mental. 

“You don’t look like that sits too well, TBJ.  What’s wrong with her?” 

Glancing over at Tico, he muttered, “Nothing, other than she thinks Fate brought her here.”

Tony had been right.  Richie didn’t bat an eye.  He lifted a negligent shoulder and twisted his mouth in a matching shrug.  “Who’s to say it didn’t?  You ever do something without knowing why?  We all get a little subconscious pull or tug from the universe now and then.  Some of us can admit that, and some of us can’t.”

Tico snorted softly.  “Rich, man, I’m surprised you don’t have your own hotline on the Psychic Friends Network.”

“Yeah, fuck you, ya cynical little Cubano.”  The guitarist was used to the ribbing from his band mates when it came to these kinds of topics, and let it roll right off of him without a second thought.  “Fine, be a skeptical bastard.  With or without your endorsement, the universe still does its thing.  It doesn’t have to give you proof.”

The car glided to a smooth halt in front of the restaurant, with the driver quickly exiting the vehicle to open the back door for his passengers.  Tony was the first one out, knowing that he would blend into the woodwork once the handful of gawkers caught sight of Richie.  He preferred it that way, and stood to the side inside the restaurant until the other two men were led to a private dining room. 

Following closely behind, he stayed quiet, preoccupied with the Richie’s last comment. 

The universe didn’t have to give him proof. 

But it had.

34 - How to Save a Life

Fine.  Y'all win.  Even if you hate it, you need to tell me that.  Silence is the pits.  :)


He could barely wrap his head around this.  Tony had seen some crazy stuff in his days with Bon Jovi, some of it good-crazy, some of it bad-crazy, but none of it compared to this mess. No wonder she was so hesitant to tell it.  This really happened to somebody?  She couldn’t possibly be making this shit up, could she?

She warned you…

She did warn him more than once, but he’d brushed each warning off, never imagining that the story could be as far-fetched and fucked up as it was.  Whose imagination was that vivid?

And she wasn’t finished???

He needed another cigarette before finding out how he came to fit in all this.

Tony slid both feet to the floor, dipping his hand into his pocket as he went back to his smoking post by the window.  He paused only for a swallow of his watery whiskey, meeting Lilah’s eyes.  She watched him warily, as though she thought he was done with the whole thing. 

He wasn’t done.  By no means was he done.  He was consumed with the need to find out how the fairytale progressed, but he needed to buckle in first.  Putting the glass down, he continued on to the window and slid it open.

Once he had the sedative-stick lit and took a deep drag, Tony held it until his lungs hurt.  Feeling more settled, he blew the smoke out the window and inclined his chin toward her.  “Go ahead.  Louisville.”

“Um, yeah.  Louisville.” 

She closed her eyes – again.  It bugged him that she couldn’t seem to stand to look at him while she relayed the information.  Was she that afraid of his reaction, or was it that hard for her?  Both plausible reasons upset him.

“The morning of July twenty-third, I laid in bed physically and mentally wounded, and I prayed.  I gave up believing in God a while back, but still I prayed, begging to die.  Really, I was pleading for the guts to take my own life.  My self-esteem was shot, my life was completely turned inside-out, and I had no future that I could see.  I’d finished raising my son, and sure as hell wasn’t making his life any easier by being alive.”

She might as well have been reciting the Pledge of Allegiance for all the emotion she showed.  Lilah’s spiel was dry and detached, completely devoid of any personal involvement.  She spoke of committing suicide as though it were someone else’s life – someone she didn’t like very much.

It made Tony uncomfortable, and mad.  Inexplicably, irrationally, insanely angry.

She has exactly two seconds to move on or...  Or…  Hell, I dunno, but I’ll put a stop to it.

“That was about the time that Joanna barged into my room, waving the HullabaLOU tickets in my face.  She’s not an obsessive Jovi fan, but when we heard the band would be there, she agreed to go with me.  Unfortunately, at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less if Richie had sent his personal car and backstage passes.  But Jo doesn’t put up with whining.  She basically ended up forcing me out of bed for the drive to Louisville, saying that if I was going to die it wasn’t going to be on the day Bon Jovi was within two hours of my front door.”

“This is the friend who couldn’t come to Europe with you?”

“Yes.  She’s chronically ill, and wouldn’t have been able to do all the travel for this many shows.”

“What’s the matter with her?”

Lilah laughed humorlessly, toying with her earring.  “A little bit of everything.  Chronic fatigue, rheumatoid artitis, fibromyalgia…  It was a big deal for her to do HullabaLOU, but she goaded me into it because she knew I’d regret missing it.  We made quite a pair, me with my head and neck bandaged up like a mummy, pushing her wheelchair around Churchill Downs. It did get us some preferential treatment though, so we were closer to the front than we would’ve been.”

Tony frowned, taking another deep drag off of his cigarette.  Her comment about a mummy prodded at something in the back of his mind.  Before he could put his finger on it, she shrugged and moved forward with her tale.

“When Richie hit the first lick on the guitar and Jon grabbed that white mic stand…My shitty life faded to the background. I was able to lose myself in the familiar songs and hide from reality for just a little while.”

“So this is how Jovi plays into it.  The songs.”

She met his eyes and held them, pausing thoughtfully before speaking again.  “No.  I could’ve easily listened to the whole set, lettin’ it erase my life for those couple of hours.  Then I would’ve gone back home and found a way to put an end to the pain and misery that were slowly smotherin’ me.”

He understood people had grief, and that it could be overwhelming.  He also understood that Lilah’s grief was a little different, and it had a whole lot of other shit mixed into it.  But dammit if he understood how somebody felt so smothered that the best alternative was not breathing at all.   It was another block in the wall of resentment he was building against her ex – make that former – husband.

Tony angrily flipped ash from the glowing tip of his cigarette, biting out, “Why didn’t you?”

She rearranged her legs so that they were folded under her, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and fiddling with her earring again as she leaned into the headboard.

“It was somewhere past half-way through the show – I couldn’t even tell you which song they were doing – when the big screen behind the band caught my eye.  I very seldom look at the screen, but there was something there that I couldn’t help but stop and look at.  A woman…  wrapped up like a damn mummy…  looking happier than anyone with that many bandages had a right to.  Her eyes were dancing right along with her body and her smile was wide enough to drive a truck through.”

“You.”

She nodded slowly, folding the hem of her t-shirt, creasing it, and smoothing it out again.  “It…  was one of those life-altering, come-to-Jesus moments for me.  Up on that screen, was proof that I could still be happy.  No matter what Jerry Springer crap had rained down in my world, I still had something inside that wanted to be happy.”

Lifting her face, she met his eyes with a quiet determination.  “I’m convinced that, in that moment, Fate and the man operatin’ the video screen joined hands to save my life.”

Cigarette butt burnt down to the filter, he tossed it in the empty whiskey glass and leaned against the wall without bothering to close the window.  Folding his arms, he let his eyes slide blindly to the floor as the tenuous recollection from a few minutes ago flared to life, and a peculiar feeling worked its way through him. 

“I remember that day,” he spoke carefully.  “Not remember remember, but I have a vague mental picture of that ‘mummy’ in the back of my mind.”  Lifting his attention from the carpet, he intently studied Lilah’s face to confirm the resemblance.  “I’d been watching the shots from backstage and the bandages caught my eye.  You were just looking at the stage, not doing anything, but then something happened to make you smile.  I put the shot up.”

Because the fuckin’ sun came out with that smile, you sappy-ass pussy.  The damn smile of hers that still does something to you.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she murmured, a bit of that smile sneaking out.  “Maybe that means…”  Before the smile could go full-blown, Lilah pulled a disgusted face.  “Well, this is where it might start soundin’ a little stupid.”

“Go on.”

“I, uh…  I knew your name before then, but that’s about all I knew, and only because you were Jon’s other brother.  When I got to huntin’ stuff up online about Bon Jovi’s video production staff and found out you were video director…” Her eyes darted away, and she started messing with her earring again.  “A chill like I’d never felt before raced up my spine.  I just knew you were the one, and that there was some kind of…  connection between us.”

Shrugging, she rushed on, as though embarrassed.  “I spent hours online finding out everything about you that I could, and every detail I discovered sent that same chill through me.  After a week or so, I had gotten so…  enamored with you that I started having dreams that were more than dreams.  They were…”  The last word was muttered too quietly for him to hear.

“They were what?”

Tucking her hand into her lap, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin to lock their gazes.  “Premonitions.  They were premonitions.  Or at least that’s what I’m callin' 'em.”

Premonitions?  That was creepy enough to have him lighting another cigarette.  Like he didn’t smoke enough already, Lilah was going to turn him into a chain-smoker.

Cigarette lit, he manned up enough to venture, “Uh.  What kind of premonitions?”

“Not the kind you’re thinkin' of.  Premonitions probably isn’t even the right word.  I…  You just kind of started livin’ in my subconscious, I guess.”

That went about ten steps beyond creepy.  He was trying to tell himself the woman in front of him hadn’t become anybody different in the last fifteen minutes.  She was the same Lilah that had summoned his protective instinct.  She was the same woman that fit his body like a tailor-made glove, but it was hard not to look at her in a completely different light.  A slightly unbalanced light.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it,” she apologized quietly.  “I dreamed about you.  In the dreams, we talked, spent time together.  I learned who you are.”

“Those were dreams, Lilah.  You don’t know me.”

Just like you don’t know her.  But wasn’t it just a little while ago that you knew things you had no reason for knowing? 

“I understand what you’re thinkin’. I swear I do but, as crazy as it sounds, I believe with all my heart that the things you told me in those dreams were real, Tony.  The things that you … showed me… were real.”

Showed?  Who…  What…  Huh?

“Like what?”

“Like…”  She slowly rearranged her legs again, this time putting her feet on the mattress and hugging her bent knees.  “What turns you on with oral sex.”

Remembering last night and how, at the time, he wondered at her expertise with his ‘hot spots’, Tony froze with his cigarette halfway to his mouth.  Guys were guys though, weren’t they?  He’d never asked another guy what he felt best about getting blown, so it could be a universal thing.  Coincidence.

“And..?” An unexpected breeze pushed smoke back into the room, catching him unaware and forcing a cough from his chest.

“Your nipples are so sensitive that you can barely stand to have them touched, but if you’re havin’ trouble getting’ off, it will put you over the top every time.”

The cough went deeper and he nearly strangled on his own dumbfounded surprise.  Nobody – nobody – knew that other than his ex-wife.

“And that you can’t seem to quit smokin’ even though the thought of lung cancer scares the hell out of you.  And that seein’ what Richie’s been through isn’t enough to keep you from drinkin’ too much, even though you think about him with nearly every damn drink.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. 

“And that the real reason you can’t make yourself care enough to get either of those things under control…”

No.  She does not fucking know this.

“…is because you think it doesn’t matter to anybody.  As much as you love your brothers and their families, you feel like the odd man out.  An outsider.”

The hair on his arms stood on end from wrist to elbow.  He was officially freaked-the-fuck out.

“That’s enough.”  Not even bothering to snuff out the remains of his cigarette, he flicked it harshly outside and slammed the window shut.  He’d heard all he wanted to hear.  This shit couldn’t be real.  She couldn’t know things that he didn’t even admit to himself.  Not possible.

“No,” she countered quietly, rising to her feet and circling the bed so that she could stand in front of him.  Lilah placed a feather-light hand in the center of his chest and regarded him with somber eyes.  “You wanted to know why I’m here, and this is it.  You saved my life, Jersey.  I came here hopin’ to save yours.”

Post Holidays

Lilah and Tony hope you've had a wonderful Christmas and are looking forward to a awesome new year, but...  (Yeah, there's always a but).  They are suffering after-holiday blues and aren't feeling up to posting the rest of their conversation yet.

They will be back in a day or two with the rest of Lilah's story.

Y'all are probably busy with your real lives anyway, right?  :)

33 - Y'all Ain't Gonna Believe This...

“It’s time to talk,” Tony stated quietly, emerging from the bathroom and buttoning his shorts as he walked.

Lilah nodded, pushing damp palms down the legs of the jeans she’d re-dressed herself in while he was disposing of the condom.  She wiggled her butt on the bed with her legs crossed Indian-style, while her eyes were hungrily riveted to his chest.  It begged to be touched.

You’ll never get enough of him, Lilah Jane.

That was neither here nor there. Her feelings didn’t come into play yet.  She hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge having feelings up to this point.  It wasn’t to say that she didn’t have them, and logically know what they were, but indulging in them before they had this talk was only asking for heartache. 

Oh well.  No matter what happened now, she could at least be content that he’d left her arms satisfied.  More than once.  She could make that be enough.

If she had to.

“So, talk,” he invited, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and easing open the room’s one window before bringing a flame to life with the flick of his lighter. 

“Anyplace in particular you want me to start?”

Blowing out the first cloud of smoke, he shook his head.  “No.  Say what you wanna say.  If I think you miss anything important, I’ll let ya know.”

“Okay.”  She closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow and her hands to stop shaking as she thanked God for the common sense to email Morgan and Angel earlier.  At least she had some idea of how to present this thing now. 

Talk slow, Lilah Jane.  You talk too fast when you get nervous.

It was true.  She hated being the center of attention or listening to herself talk.  Maybe it was more that she usually didn’t think she had anything interesting to say, so, to minimize her audience’s lack of interest, she talked fast and kept it short. 

Don’t do that this time.  Use your words.  All of ‘em.  Make him understand.

Inhaling deeply, she began with a disclaimer.  “I warned you this was a redneck fairytale.  I wasn’t lyin’.”

“S’ok.  Go on.”

Lilah closed her eyes again, believing it would be easier to concentrate on her story if she didn’t have to see every ‘bat shit crazy’ thought flit across his face.

“Joanna and I have been best friends for eleven years.  When she and her husband Steve got married fifteen years ago, Steve had two best men in the wedding – Walter and Amos.”

“Your ex-husbands are both friends of your best friend’s husband?” Tony snickered on an exhale.  “Yeah, I can see the redneck fairytale coming out.”

Oh, honey, that’s not a drop in the redneck bucket.

“After Walter and I divorced, Amos had been hangin’ out a lot with Joanna and Steve.  Joanna got it in her head that we should go out.  He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he got up and went to work every day, he was good to me, and he seemed to be good with Andrew.  When it progressed to that point, I agreed to marry him.  I weighed all the pros and cons and went into it with my eyes wide open.  ”

God, there was so much to this story.  She was already tired of telling it and she wasn’t halfway through.  Before today, it would have never entered her mind to mention the financial mess Walter left her in.  It was irrelevant to everything, but since it had Jon’s shorts in a wad, she had to take the time to tell Tony, too.

“My financial situation at the time was not good, but then again, Amos’s wasn’t either.  We worked on it, and everything slowly improved.  We bought him a car.  We upgraded my car.  Then we upgraded both cars, and finally bought a house.  During the course of things, he went from being a furniture deliveryman to being a collection representative, to a unit manager, to an account manager.  He also went from working days to nights, with his two days off in the middle of the week.”

“And you work days?”

Flicking a glance toward him, she nodded.  “Monday through Friday.  So I was alone most of the time.  I had Andrew four days a week, so that helped.  Joanna and I spent a lot of time together, too, and I rediscovered Bon Jovi.  After a while, I finally got used to only seein’ him a few hours a week.  But, to make a long story a bit shorter, Amos didn’t like the fact that I was…” 

Lilah paused, not really sure how to say it without sounding full of herself. 

Just say it.  If it’s the truth, it ain’t conceited.

“Well, to be honest, I was smarter than him – by a lot – and I guess he got tired of feelin’ like I didn’t respect his mind.  Apparently, one of the girls who worked under him showed the proper appreciation for his sheer brilliance by working under him.” 

The whole thing still made Lilah queasy.  The trampy little crack whore was twenty-nine to Amos’s thirty-five, which wasn’t much of an age difference in the grand scheme of things, but she was a twenty-nine year old grandmother.  She’d had a baby when she was thirteen, who had turned around and had a baby when he was thirteen.

“I’m sorry, Bluegrass.”  Tony winced as he put out the cigarette and closed the window. Joining her on the bed, he tucked one leg under the other and scooted forward until his knees were touching hers.  He curled strong, comforting fingers around her ankle and asked gently, “How did you find out?”

This was where things started to get interesting.  With a deep breath, Lilah lightly blanketed her hand on top of his and shamelessly took solace in his simple touch. 

You can make it through this.  It’s over, and it got you here.  Just remove yourself from the situation and tell the damn story.

“I found out on July nineteenth of last year, when Daisy May tried to kill me.  The story goes that he was too chicken-shit to ask for a divorce, she took matters into her own hands.”  Lilah’s laugh was bitter, even to her own ears, and she lifted eyes that brimmed with resentment to flick over Tony’s disbelieving face.  “Welcome to the redneck part of this story.”

“Daisy May?”

“Amos’s mistress and, no, I am not making that up.  Her name really is Daisy May.”

“She…”   The fingertips of his free hand came to lightly trace one of the scars.  “She did this?”

“Yes.”  Lilah guided his index finger to the smallest and most innocent looking scar, near the base of her throat.  “This is the one that almost did the trick.  My carotid artery got pierced, and I came close to bleeding to death before the ambulance could get there.”

“Tell me how,” he murmured, eyes locked on that tiny blemish that was practically invisible among so many other bigger, deeper ones.  His troubled gaze and the repetitive, tender brush of his fingertip over the puckered tissue were nearly Lilah’s undoing. 

Don’t go fallin’ in love with him, Lilah Jane.  This isn’t over.

She scratched her nose and blinked back the emotion that threatened to steal her composure.  Hiding her sniffle under a quiet cough, she forced herself to close off her heart and fell into a cold, clinical recitation of the events.

“Joanna and I were having dinner at Jenny’s – our favorite local diner.  It was a pretty regular Monday night thing for us, to where we had a ‘usual’ table by the front window.  After we gave the waitress our orders, Jo went to the ladies’ room.  I was sitting with one elbow propped on the table, jaw cradled in my palm…”  Lilah demonstrated how her fingers and hand had covered her right cheek. “… checking email messages.  It was just a minute later when the world exploded around me.  Glass flew everywhere, and there was a blinding pain at the base of my skull.”

Phantom pain made her ache with the memory, but it lasted only a moment when Tony’s fingers curled around her neck and located the biggest scar.  His gentle touch, once again, brought soothing to both her skin and her soul.

You’re fucked, Lilah Jane.  If this blows up in your face, you’ll never be the same.

Shushing that damned annoying inner voice, she focused instead on his next logical question.

“She shot you?”

“She shot me.  With a crossbow.” 

“No fuckin’ way!”

A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  She knew how ridiculous it had to sound to a man who grew up a stone’s throw from New York City and Philadelphia.  He’d probably been expecting a high-powered automatic rifle, or a handgun of some kind.  “We do things a little different in the country, Jersey.” 

“C’mere.”  He tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted.

“No,” she declined quietly, wanting nothing more than to sink against his chest and accept his consolation.  They still had  a ways to go, and if she stopped...  “This isn’t a play for pity.  You wanted to know why I’m here, and this is where the story begins.  If I quit talkin’ now, it’ll be like pullin’ hen’s teeth to get me started again.”

“Hen’s teeth?” he chuckled with a bemused smirk as he reluctantly returned to tracing his fingers along her neck.  She briefly wondered if he was trying to erase them with his touch.  “Do hens even have teeth?”

“No.”  One side of her mouth kicked up with humor.  “That’s why it’s so hard to pull ‘em.”

The smile slid away.  Lilah was tired of this, and wished nothing more than for it to be over. 

“Long story short,” she sighed.  “I, obviously, didn’t die.  The crack whore was pissed.  She went to boil her anger in whatever her drug of choice was, killed Amos, and tried her best to humiliate me in the wake of his death by saying she was pregnant with his baby, that I had every sexually transmitted disease ever discovered and that she was going to sue me since he’d passed them all from me to her.  You might sense that Daisy May wasn’t all that sharp either?  It was a fiasco that lasted for weeks afterward.”

God, this is a pitiful embarrassment.  No wonder Jerry Springer came knockin’ on your door after Daisy May stirred all that shit and called ‘em.  At least Uncle Eddie and Uncle James shut that down before it got out of control.   

“In the meantime, I got out of the hospital, talked to the police, hid my face in shame, buried my husband, wished I was the one in the box, and got a lot depressed.  All in the course of three days.  I don’t have the STD’s, by the way,” she tried to joke.  “In case you were worried.”

Tony was, understandably enough, speechless.  He was just staring at her, his forehead wrinkled with confusion. 

He’s tryin’ to make sense of somethin’ completely senseless, Lilah Jane.  Stop him before he hurts himself.

“You’re probably wondering how this has anything to do with you, or Bon Jovi,” she pushed forward, knowing that this was the point where she could drown – halfway between the beginning and the end.  Lilah couldn’t go back, but she hadn’t gone far enough toward the other shore to save herself, or if that was even possible.

“Kinda, I guess.”

Now for the part that will make him think you’re certifiable…

“Well…  July nineteenth plus three days of insanity brings us to the morning of July twenty-third.  The day of HullabaLOU Two Thousand and Ten…”

32 - Priorities

“How about you start with what’s wrong right now?” Tony suggested quietly, his arms still wrapped reassuringly around her.  Her scalp tingled where he sifted his fingers through her hair.

Why was he being so sweet?  He had a good heart.  She’d known that all along, but he was a Jersey hard-ass.  Sweet wasn’t something she ever expected from him.  As tired as she was, his display of kindness heaped on top of the unpredicted hug was enough to make her want to cry.

Gently extracting herself from his arms, she gave him a weak smile and played off the Jon-hangover.  “Right now?  I’m just tired.  Nothin’ else is wrong.”

“You’re lying – “ he tried to dispute, only to be interrupted by the loud strains of ‘Taking Care of Business’ pealing from the desk behind him.  “Fuck!”  The soft curse was quickly chased by an apologetic look for Lilah as he spun to snatch up his phone.  “It’s Rew.  They’re starting setup this afternoon.  I have to grab this.”

She nodded absently, astounded that he’d so readily zeroed in on her slight untruth. 

“Yeah, Mike?”

There was a scared-little-girl part of her that kind of hoped he was needed at the venue.  Right across the street, it wasn’t far, but it was far enough to give Lilah time to get a handle on her frayed emotions and form a more coherent presentation of her redneck fairy tale.  All of the cylinders in her sleep-deprived mind were not clicking in any type of logical sequence.  If she told this thing now, it was going to go badly.  She could feel it in her bones.

“Are you fucking kidding me?  Now?”  His face crumpled with annoyance and he huffed into the phone.  “Gimme five minutes.”

Thank you, Jesus.  Reprieve.

Relief was her first instinct as she perched on the edge of the bed, but it was readily chased by a sense of dread.  Once he left the room, would Jon corner him and tell Lilah’s story from his perspective?  A totally fucked up perspective, at that?

Tony hung up the phone and clipped it to the pocket of his cargo shorts as he came to stand before her.  “I’ve gotta go, Bluegrass,” he apologized, bending to dust her lips with a kiss. 

“Okay.”

She loved his kisses.  Even the most casual one had the power to curl her toes, and she savored the sensation as the rare treasure it was.  She was a lucky little redneck, and she knew it.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?  I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll talk.”

Owlish eyes blinked up at him, and she sat motionless, still appreciating the tingles walking her spinal cord like a tightrope.  There were so many things going through her mind, and most of them she wouldn’t dare utter right now.  Tony took her statue-like pose as argumentative, when she really was just trying to keep from blurting out something stupid.

Something stupid like ‘please stay’, or ‘sleep with me’.  Worse yet, something abysmally ridiculous like, ‘hug me again’.   

“Lilah…” he warned quietly.  “Get undressed and crawl in bed.”

“Okay.”

When she still didn’t move, his eyes narrowed, contemplatively assessing her features.  “Are you going to even be here when I get back?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“You can be totally fucking frustrating,” he growled.  Tony growled a lot, she noticed.  Was that a normal thing, or was it because of her?

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, contritely.  It had been a sincere question on her part.  If he didn’t want her there, then she wouldn’t be.  Simple as that.   “I don’t mean to be frustrating, so let me try again… Tony, I don’t have plans to go anywhere except to sleep.  My lazy butt will be right here whenever you’re done with work.”

He studied her again and, apparently content that she was going to do just as she said, nodded his head with satisfaction.  “Better.”  One more peck on the mouth, and he was gone, his phone ringing as the door closed.

It seems to be your day to piss people off, Lilah Jane.  Go to sleep before you get yourself into trouble.

Pushing to her feet, she thought that she would.  Just as soon as she practiced her convoluted tale by emailing her online friends.  In the worst-case scenario, she was going to need consoling.  It would help if they already knew what was going on.

There’s always Joanna.  Or Andrew.

True.  But Joanna would just be happy she was coming home.  In all fairness, she would be sympathetic for all of ten seconds and then ask which flight Lilah would be on.  And Andrew…  Well, Andrew knew she was stalking some Bon Jovi guy, but that was about it.  He would pretend to care because that’s what he thought he should do, but he shouldn’t have to deal with her quirky crap unless it was fun.  Lilah didn’t want to subject him to that.

Morgan and Angel were the ones who would get it, if anyone did.

Lilah smiled tiredly after stripping off her jeans, climbing onto the bed and flipping up the laptop lid.  If they didn’t, at least she didn’t have to look them in the face when they decided she was crazy. 

✧✧✧

“Jon, what the hell are you up to?”

He grimaced, hating it when Dorothea used that tone of voice with him.  He had no idea what she was pissed about, but she was pissed.

“Five foot ten,” he offered blandly, rearing back in the hotel desk chair.  His eyes continued to skim through unimportant emails in search of a much anticipated correspondence.  It still wasn’t there.

Damn.  I’m gonna have to get a new investigator.  This guy is losing his touch.

“Very funny.” 

The ominously uttered response conveyed the exact opposite of humor, and he sighed.  The laptop went closed with a sharp snap.  Crossing his legs, he eked out a bit of his own humorlessness.  It hadn’t been the best of days, and he was annoyed that the information he wanted hadn’t arrived.  Guessing games weren’t his thing under the best of circumstances. 

“Well then, how about you give me a little more idea as to what you’re talking about?  It might get you a better answer.”

“Alex Balducci called this morning.  You forgot to give him your email address for the investigation report on Lilah Bennett.  Now, I repeat, what the hell are you up to, Jon?”

There was no way Alex had been that loose lipped about a job.  No fucking way.

“He told you that?”

“No, he didn’t tell me that.  I gave him my email address, because I can never remember yours, and  I noticed the file name when I was going to forward it.”

Great.  Why did he hire private investigators?  His wife was just as efficient as most of them.

“Did you read it?  What does it say?”

Her long suffering huff came blasting over the line.  “For God’s sake, no I didn’t read it!  Why are you having her investigated?”

“Because she won’t tell me or Tony what her deal is.  I don’t like not knowing what’s going on in my camp, and after the last fan instance, I’m not much interested in seeing Lilah Bennett take advantage of my little brother.”

“I don’t want that either.  Tony deserves better than what he’s had so far, but do you really think there’s a reason to be suspicious of her?  It’s still casual, isn’t it?”

“Last night he told me that she’ll be sharing his hotel room for the rest of the tour,” Jon informed her sourly.  “Does that sound casual to you?”

“What?  Wait a minute.”  Incomprehension was clear in her voice.  “That doesn’t sound like Tony.  He wouldn’t basically move in with a woman so fast.  Why is he doing it?”

“Some bullshit about protecting her.”

“Protecting her from….?” His wife was an expert prodder, but he despised  being on this end of it.  When she was using it on one of the kids, it was pretty cool, but him?  Not so much.

“She’s traveling alone, I guess.  There was an incident in Istanbul and she got a little cut up.”

Dorothea harshly sucked in an appalled breath.  “A little cut up?  Well, Jesus, Jon, no wonder he’s feeling protective!  I would think that might bother you just a little.”

It did.  Honestly, it did.  If he’d met this woman another way, he would be just as appalled and concerned as both Tony and Dorothea.  Unfortunately, she’d fallen firmly into the suspicious character column before that happened.  It didn’t hurt that he’d found out about the thing after it was over and she was okay. 

You know, Jonny Boy… If you’d ever talk to Lilah instead of at her, she might become a real living, breathing person to you. One to show compassion to, and all that. 

He shrugged aside the nagging conscience and stuck to his guns.  Once he’d made a decision, Jon was nothing if not committed to his choices.

“Don’t judge me as a cold-hearted bastard, Dottie.  You haven’t met her.”

His better half went stoically silent – for a really long time.  He’d left her speechless.  That meant he’d been right and actually won an argument.  Jon was busy giving himself a congratulatory pat on the back – and doing an imagined fist pump in the air – when she spoke, spontaneously aborting his victory lap.

“No, I haven’t.  But I will.  I’m taking the kids to your parents’ and booking the next flight out.  If she’s wreaking this much havoc, it’s time Lilah Bennett and I got to know one another.”

✧✧✧

Tony shoved open the door and pushed his way through, barely catching it before it crashed shut and awakened Lilah.  His fingers curled around the knob just as the lock caught with a soft ‘click’, and he was relieved to see that she didn’t stir. 

The room was quiet, save for her deep, even breathing and he slowly approached the edge of the bed where she was curled on her left side, fast asleep.  Pulled as though by a magnet, it was the first chance he’d had to steal a completely unguarded and unsupervised look at the woman who was tilting his world at a crazy angle.

The more he got to know her, the more attractive Lilah became.  She had a sweet innocence about her, coupled with that fierce independence and apathy, and there was a sharp mind tucked away behind those closed lids.  When she was awake you could watch her thoughts dance in her eyes, even when she never said a word.

Praying hands were tucked under a creased pink cheek, and her elbows were tucked into the Bon Jovi logo on her t-shirt.  Rosy lips were parted with gentle exhalations, and chocolaty brown waves were tucked behind her ear, giving him a good look at her scars.

It was hard to imagine what had caused such an odd array.  The only thing he’d ever seen that came close to resembling the hodgepodge of wounds was on a friend of his dad.  The World War II veteran bore similar marks all over his forearms, but they were caused by the shrapnel from a clay mortar.  He highly doubted Lilah had run across a clay mortar in Kentucky.

That was a mystery to be soon solved, though.  He hoped.

She slept like a flamingo, with her knee bent and one foot resting on the opposite knee, and the creamy silk of her bare legs drew him like a magnet.  Tony skated his palm from the bent crook of her knee, slowly up her thigh to the hem of the black cotton shirt. 

“Mmmmm…  Tony…” she murmured after snuffling her surprise at the touch. 

The faint purr sent blood surging below his waist with the memory of how she felt wrapped around him the last time she’d said those same words.  The surge became a full-on deluge when she rolled to her back and looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.  

He’d thought about her all day – sometimes even in a non-sexual context.  Mostly though, he’d been jonesing for a repeat of last night.  Sex with Lilah was good.  Exceptionally good.  So, while talking might be more important in the big picture, it sure didn’t feel like it at that moment.  The big head was getting strong-armed by the little one.

Pressing his luck, Tony tucked deliberate fingertips into the narrow gap between her milky thighs.  He was blessed with a shot of high-test adrenaline when she immediately opened wider to welcome his seeking touch.

“I want you,” he rumbled with absolutely no finesse or couth.  Then, his thumb scraped the heated cotton that covered her core and drew another delicately noisy breath from the sleepy southern belle sprawled in his bed.

Aqua eyes stayed soft, but the drowsiness dissolved like the mist following a hot afternoon rain.  “Then take me.”

Stiff as a board, there was no need to tell him twice.  Tony stripped his shirt while kicking his shoes and socks off.  When he dropped the zipper on his shorts and let them fall to the floor, he tugged open the nightstand drawer and snatched out a condom.

Rolling it on, he warned her, “I’m talking pure fucking.  There won’t be anything slow or tender about it.”

“Any way you want, Jersey.”  One slim ankle flicked away panties with little purple hearts, and she let her knees fall wide to add emphasis to her quiet offer. 

His desire burned hotter, fueled by the glossy slickness of her sex as he crawled between her thighs.  Dredging his hardness through the slippery folds, he paused at her entrance and asked one more time, “Are you sure?”

When she nodded and reached up to curl her fingers into his hair, he pushed inside with a quiet groan and fell forward.  The heels of his hands planted into the mattress beside her shoulders and Lilah wrapped herself around him.  Legs and arms twined like ivy around his torso, holding him close even as she rocked into his strokes. 

“That feels good,” she whispered against the shell of his ear while she scratched random patterns across his shoulder blades.  It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it drove him to the edge of crazy and he pushed harder, forcing her softness to accept him on his terms. 

“Too rough?” he rasped, afraid of hurting her.

“Shhh…”  Gently stroking his hair, she danced her body in some type of porno-erotica slide and every square inch of her writhed under, around and against him.  The skin-on-skin contact was like jacking off in pure velvet. 

She was so damn soft.

“Jesus… Gonna be too quick…”

Lilah sucked on a spot just below his jaw as she continued her rubbing… touching… scratching.  “Don’t hold back,” she whispered against his heated skin.  “Take what you need.”

“You first.”

“No. Let me make you feel good. Come for me, Jersey,” she begged, scraping her teeth against his neck. 

“Fuck! Lilah…”

“Come for me,” the little seductress enticed him, her wicked rasp drawing him closer to the edge of release.  “It feels so good when you fuck me, but I want you to come.”

He was about to protest when she clenched those mysterious feminine muscles around him, hitting just the right spot to set him off.   All his good intentions were blown to hell with one enigmatic hip-wiggle, and she held him close as the spasms jerked every drop of satisfaction from him.

Slumping over her, he lifted a weary eyebrow and chastised, “I think I just found out why you get left behind.”

She chuckled softly and rolled her pelvis.  “I didn’t get left behind.  If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“But did you come?”

“Mm.”  Lilah nuzzled her nose into his neck and dotted a trail of wet kisses over his collarbone.  “Pleasure comes in different forms.  I’m well-pleased.”

“But did you come?”

Why he persisted, Tony didn’t know.  What she’d said was the same as a no, but it was like he actually had to hear the words.  The way Lilah goaded him into forgetting about her pleasure aside put him in the same category as the loser ex-husbands.  He was annoyed with both her and himself over the whole thing.  

“Jersey…  If it matters that much to you, the next round can be mine.”

That’s exactly what would happen.  Only it might be a little different than what she was expecting.  If they were going to continue sleeping together, things would have to change.

31 - Intuition

Richie jammed his arm between elevator doors that were just before sealing shut.  When they retracted far enough for him to slide through, he smiled at the car’s lone occupant.  “Hey.  Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” the woman mumbled, crowded into the back corner with fingers curled around her suitcase handle in a death grip.  She snuck a hand up, wiping a subtle palm over her cheek as he punched the button for his floor and faced forward.

Wait a minute.  Does she look familiar?

He covertly glanced back, forehead creased with concentration as he tried to place her.  The face was one he’d seen recently, but it had been filled with spunk at the time, not desolation.

“Hey, aren’t you TBJ’s girl?”

She slowly lifted her head, and he could see the tears pooled there, ready to spill over.  “No.  I was just  backstage with him yesterday.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” he chuckled.  ”You told JB it wasn’t all about him.”  What was her name?  Some kind of flower?  Lily?  No, wait…  “Lilah?” 

“Yes, Lilah,” she confirmed, her finger sliding through the gold hoop earring and rubbing it.  One corner of her mouth slipped up her cheek in a vague semblance of a smile, but the rest of her features remained vacant and withdrawn. 

He frowned.  For the first time Richie saw the scars on one side of her neck and the fairly fresh cuts on the other.  He hadn’t noticed those yesterday.  Not wanting to be a nosy bastard, he asked something completely unrelated to them.

“What’s got ya lookin’ so down, Darlin’?”

The elevator dinged its arrival at the tenth floor and Lilah glanced from the open door to him, and back again.  She wanted to confide in him.  He had a sixth sense about these things.

“I’m a good listener.”

Both corners of her mouth tipped up this time, albeit wistfully, and she angled her suitcase onto its wheels.  “I’m sure you are, but there’s nothing to listen to.  It was nice of you to remember me.  Have a good afternoon.”

She was already a short distance down the corridor, but he couldn’t keep from trying one more time.  Holding the door open with a forearm, he offered again, “You sure?”

Heavy footsteps slowed, eventually stopping, and Lilah turned to look up into his eyes.  She blinked once, slowly, and said something completely out of left field.  “I was right about you.  That makes me happy.”

“Right in what way?” he asked, head cocked curiously to the side.  This girl radiated sad, but she also seemed determined not to spread that sadness, or elaborate on it.  Peculiar for a woman, in his experience.

“You’re one of the good guys.  I appreciate that, and your offer to listen, but I’m fine.”  This smile was the closest to a real one that he’d seen so far.  “Take care, Richie.”

Pausing, he offered her another silent second to say something.  When she didn’t, he shook his head sadly.  “You, too, Lilah.  If there’s anything I can do for ya, gimme a shout.”

He took a step back and the heavy metal doors crept together.  In that brief snapshot of time, Richie found out he was a nosy bastard and, before the car had climbed another floor, he had his phone out to shoot Tony a text.

[4:45 PM]RICHIE:  What’s the story with Lila? Somebody shoot her dog?

✧✧✧

Tony hit the send button on yet another email.  It was time consuming and awkward to try and conduct all the details of the new business from overseas.  In the end, the monumental pain in the ass would be worth it.  This gave him work he could do from a home base rather than traipsing all over the world.  He was eternally grateful he’d had the opportunity to do all that, but as he got older, it didn’t hold quite the shine and appeal it once had. 

It had been lingering in the back of his mind to move back to New Jersey, to be closer to his brothers and their families.  The proximity to his nieces and nephews would keep him involved in their lives and fill any void left by his own lack of offspring.

Anouk's reluctance to have a baby had bothered him at the time, but now he was glad they hadn't.  The divorce had torn him up enough as it was.  Tony didn't think he could've stood making a child suffer for his mistakes, too.

He picked up the bottle of whiskey and splashed another measure over the ice in the generously provided hotel glass.  About the time he set the bottle back on the desk, his phone chimed on the desk and he paused to glance at the screen. 

Richie?  That’s odd.

He didn’t have time to swipe his finger over the screen before the doorknob rattled and Lilah poked her head around. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he returned the greeting with a smile.  She looked tired as hell, but her eyes were shining brightly.  Call him crazy, but she looked happy to see him.  Call him even crazier, but he was kind of happy to see her, too.

“Okay if I come in?”

Tony laughed, twisting toward her and draping his arm over the back of the desk chair.  “That’s why you have a key, Bluegrass.”

In the instant before her hair obscured her eyes, what he’d perceived to be happiness revealed itself as something distinctly unhappy.  Tony was up out of his chair before she could get her belongings inside the room.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, hands planted on hips and peering sharply into her face.  Had she been attacked again?  Was she sick?

Taken by surprise at his rough growl, she drew back, fluttering her eyelids.  As quickly as the sheen of tears had come, it was gone and a picture perfect smile bowed her mouth. 

“Not a thing,” was her drawled assurance as she parked her luggage by the wall and closed the door.  “Well, nothin’ a little sleep wouldn’t fix.”

She wasn’t offering anything more, yet the tense set of her shoulders that there was more.  Standing there with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, Lilah’s mouth was smiling and she was saying all the right things, but something still didn’t feel quite kosher.

What is it with you and this girl?  It’s not like you know her well enough to make that call.  What? You’ve suddenly developed intuition when it comes to other people?

Tony Bongiovi was not in touch with his feminine side.  He wasn’t good at reading subtle nuances of a person’s body language, and completely sucked at hearing what wasn’t being said.  More than one girlfriend had been pissed off when he didn’t automatically know their heart’s desire, or what they were thinking. 

None of that applied when it came to Lilah, and he didn’t understand why.  He’d only known her a hot second.  What made her different?  Nobody before had invaded his mind this way, but Tony felt like he knew things about Lilah that he didn’t have a reason to know. 

For example, he knew that she was lying, but it wasn’t to protect herself.  Protecting herself wasn’t something she cared about, as evidenced by the slash marks on her throat.  No, this was another one of those things that she was keeping hidden inside her head. 

That personality quirk annoyed the hell out of him and, if they spent much more time together, he was going to call her out on it.  The only thing that kept him from doing it now was the other thing he inexplicably knew.   

Lilah needed a hug.

“C’mere.”  He reached forward to slide an arm around her waist, encouraging her to step into his embrace. 

She did, albeit reluctantly, and planted her hands on his chest to keep some space.  Peering up at him with confusion, she stuttered, “What…  What are you doin’?”

“We’ve had sex,” he reminded her with a smirk.  “A hug shouldn’t be so damn shocking.”

And just like that, she melted into him.  Her hands met in the center of his back when her arms folded gingerly around his middle in a gentle squeeze, and she murmured softly into the crook of his neck, “Thank you, Jersey.”

Tony firmed his grasp, heart constricting at how the simple gesture affected her.  It wasn’t that she cried, or clung helplessly.  Either of those things would be more pathetic than touching.  What got him was the way the tension simply oozed out of her, and how she stood so very still, as though absorbing the contact.  Memorizing it.

Now whaddaya do? 

Breaking free from her waist, a wide-splayed hand slid into the hair at her nape.  There, he cradled the base of her skull and used the subtle pressure of his thumb to tip her head back.  As soon as he caught sight of her soft eyes, and the lips that were parted on a curious breath, Tony dipped his head.

“Mmhh.”

Her sigh was muffled, flooding his mouth with its soft whisper as his tongue swept the seam of her lips.  Fingertips dug into his back when she curled a fist into his shirt and his own fingers found a firmer hold on her scalp as he tenderly raided the sweet depths of her mouth.  It was a lazy exploration, not meant to entice, but to soothe as he tickled her upper palate, then dipped into the satiny hollow beneath her tongue. 

A dainty purr encouraged him to prolong his sensual sojourn, taking drink after drink of the uniqueness that was Lilah.  An easy scrape of teeth over the plumpness of her bottom lip, and she shivered against him.  He drew it into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth until she whimpered.

Slow, soft pecks and clinging lips brought a reluctant end to the kiss.  If he didn’t stop now, they would wind up in bed.  While that sounded well and good, it was a temporary fix, and he was tired of skirting the issues.  She was in his head.  That meant she was going to have to let him into hers.

“Talk to me, Bluegrass.”

Lilah wasn’t going to readily agree.  That was a no-brainer.  She would change the subject, or be deliberately vague or totally ignore him.  Hell, she might even try and blow him, but Tony knew she wasn’t going to just open her mouth and start emptying out the attic of her mind. 

That’s why he was stunned when, with only the briefest hesitation, she nodded and said, “Okay.  Where do you want me to start?”

30 - Crazy is as Crazy Does

Tony checked his watch, wondering if Lilah’s flight was late getting into Bucharest.    It still baffled him that she’d gone all the way to Munich to sit in an airport for God knew how many hours before getting on the one-hour flight to Romania.  The flight time from Istanbul to Bucharest was only an hour and twenty minutes, total. 

If she landed at two, it shouldn’t take two hours to get her bag and a taxi to the hotel.  It was almost four now.

Briefly, he wondered if there had been a problem at the front desk.  He’d made sure she was in the computer system, and would be given a key to his room.  The clerk promised him she wouldn’t have any trouble when she arrived.

Then where the hell is she?

He couldn’t keep himself from asking.

[3:57 PM]TONY: You ok?

✧✧✧

Lilah crawled into the back seat of the taxi and blew out an exasperated breath, sending her bangs flying chaotically into the air.  She was an idiot.  In some roundabout way, it had made sense to take a longer travel path into Romania.  It kept her from arriving at a ridiculously early hour and having to worry about her room not being ready. 

Never again.  Direct flights from here on out, whenever possible.

Because, of course, her suitcase had been ‘temporarily delayed’ in Munich.  How that was remotely possible, she didn’t know.  It wasn’t like she – and her suitcase – boarded late.  The connecting flight arrived five hours prior to departure.  But…  In the grand scheme of airline bureaucracy, it didn’t matter how it was delayed, only that it had been. 

And after all, the delay had afforded her the glorious opportunity of loitering in yet another airport for an extra hour and a half, while they located her wayward luggage.  She consoled herself with the fact that it could have been much worse.  At least the bag was merely delayed and not truly lost.

Her head flopped back onto the taxi seat as the driver pulled into traffic.   Finally – finally! – she was on her way to the hotel and a long-overdue nap. 

Heavy eyelids fluttered shut and snapped open again at the vibration in her pocket.  Sighing wearily, she dug it out and checked the screen.  Tony’s name made her groan for a couple of reasons.  First, that he felt obligated to keep tabs on her, and secondly that he was already at the hotel.  What was she expected to do?  What did he have planned for the afternoon and evening?  All she wanted to do was sleep, but…

Lilah Jane, you’re makin’ mountains out of molehills.  He might not have any intention of spendin’ time with you outside of a quick tumble in the hay.

Reading the short two-word communication, she every prior thought left her and she felt like a bitch.  He was an incredibly nice man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  If he wanted to spend time with her, there’s no way she would say no, or wish anything different. 

[3:59 PM]LILAH: Luggage delay.  On my way to the hotel now.  Sorry.

[4:00 PM]TONY: Don’t be sorry.  Just wondering.

How did she respond to that?  Thank you?  Okay?  In the end, she didn’t reply at all, figuring she would see him soon enough. 

The taxi arrived at the hotel, and Lilah thought that the Intercontinental was undoubtedly nicer than the one she had chosen.  Not that she would stay in a flea bag.  Far from it, in fact.  She tended to pay more than she should for hotels, but not at the four and five star levels.  Some things just weren’t worth that much money, and a bed was one of them.

“Good afternoon, Miss.  How may I help you?”  The young woman at the registration desk wore a vibrant smile and a nametag that said ‘Ileana’.

Lilah’s mouth curled wearily, the smile-wattage very dim compared to that of Ileana’s.  “Hi.  I’m checkin’ in.  Lilah Bennett.”

Pretty features crumpled with a brief frown as she typed the name into the computer, and then glanced at something on the counter that was out of Lilah’s sight.  The smile restored to its proper wattage, Ileana produced a keycard with a sticky note attached to it. 

“Here’s your key, Ms. Bennett.  You’re in room ten-eleven, and I have a note here that Mr. Bongiovi is waiting for you in the lobby bar.  It’s just behind you, there.”

Accepting the key, Lilah tucked it into her pocket and thanked the woman.  She pushed the bottom of her suitcase out with her flip-flopped foot and ensured the computer case stayed securely on top before wheeling in the direction Ileana had indicated.

Pausing in the doorway, she immediately noted that it was quiet in the hotel bar, but not unreasonably so, considering that it was a Thursday afternoon.  However, it was also dim, and she had to pause for a moment so that her eyes could adjust to the shadows.  She hadn’t yet become fully acclimated to the dimness when a masculine voice quietly beckoned her.

“Over here, Lilah.”

Her feet stayed rooted to the spot as she connected the face with the voice.

Lord a’mighty.  Really? 

Forty-two years old and she felt like she was being called on the carpet by her father.  Quelling a tiny zing of panic, she diligently summoned all of her good manners and humor and took a step inside, toward the booth against the wall. 

Lilah hoped this wasn’t going to suck as badly as she feared.   She parked her suitcase, resting her palm over the telescopic handle and mustering a friendly smile.

“Hello, Jon.”

On the table in front of him was a wine glass, half-filled with a light colored beverage.  He lazily twirled the glass by its stem and nodded toward the other side of the booth.  “Have a seat.”

Since you asked so nicely…

Her road-weary butt scraped over the upholstery and she settled her forearms on the table.  “I think Tony is expecting me…”

“This won’t take long,” he promised as the waitress approached the table to take Lilah’s order.  “You wanna drink?”

“No, thank you.”

The waitress offered a heated look that Jon appeared oblivious to.  He nodded his dismissal and sipped his wine, staring silently at Lilah and making her curious as to what this little rendezvous was all about.  She would think that, after yesterday, Jon Bon Jovi had his fill of her.

“Was there somethin’ specific you wanted?”

 “That’s what I’d like to ask you.  Is there something specific you want?”

Sharp blue eyes locked her in their sights, and she would swear he was trying to see inside her.  Well, he was out of luck.  She was very practiced at keeping a cloak of apathy and disinterest over herself. 

“From you?  No, sir.  You’ve given me more than I could’ve hoped for and – after the way I behaved at the stadium, you probably won’t believe this – but I am genuinely appreciative.  Thank you.  Again.”

His forehead wrinkled with annoyance, she thought, and the glass came to a standstill on the table’s dark wood surface.  Disbelief hummed from his very core.

“Okay then, if not from me, from Tony.”

She didn’t want anything from him, either.  Tony had also given her more than she could’ve hoped for, particularly since she hadn’t really come to get anything.  She’d come to give. 

“No.  Nothing.”

“Then what?  Why have you wormed your way into my tour?”

Fatigue muddled her thoughts, causing Lilah to bite her tongue rather than make a rash reply.  He clearly thought she had some kind of ulterior motive to sabotage his damn band, or something, when all she came to do was soothe her soul by returning a favor. 

“Wormin’ my way into your tour was never on the agenda, “ she began slowly, and carefully.  “My reasons for bein’ in Europe are very personal, and I prefer not to share them.

Not with you.  Not before Tony knows.

“But I will say it doesn’t have anything to do directly with your band or your business.”

“You’re here for my brother,” he intoned doubtfully. 

She sighed softly, hating the feeling that was churning in the pit of her stomach.  She was a people pleaser by nature.  Jon’s utter disdain and distrust her made Lilah sick inside, but it was a feeling she would have to learn to live with.  He showed no inclination to give her the benefit of the doubt.  It almost made her want to catch the first flight back to Lexington.

Don’t do it, Lilah Jane.  You came here to follow your heart.  He doesn’t have to understand.  Hell, you don’t even really understand. 

“Yes.  I’m here for Tony.”

That quietly uttered affirmation tipped off a silent battle of wills.  Infamous blue eyes locked into hers like a laser scope on a rifle.  They dared her to look away, and wordlessly demanded that she spill all her deepest, darkest secrets. 

She couldn’t, and wouldn’t. 

“Don’t wanna tell me?  Fine.  I’ll just assume you’re lining Tony up as husband number three.”

Her heart stopped, and then pounded triple-time.  Blood drained from her face, but rushed through her veins, pounding an angry beat in the top of her head.  He knew about Walter and Amos.  She wasn’t surprised that he could find out, just that he bothered to.

“Don’t look so surprised, Ms. Bennett.  I’m a resourceful man, and I don’t hesitate to use those resources when it comes to the security of both my organization and my family.”

“I’m not a threat to anyone’s security,” she whispered, near tears.  Never, in her life, had anyone taken such an instant hatred to her.  Her feelings were hurt more than they should be.  “And I don’t want a third husband.  Tony knows that.”

“Does he know that your first husband left you in a ridiculous amount of debt?  And that you became suddenly wealthy after the death of your second?  I bet he’d find that as interesting as I do.”

Her eyes welled to overflowing, but she didn’t cry.  Nor did she dispute what he said, because justifying the facts was pointless.  Lilah had been tried and hung her without benefit of a jury or all of the evidence.  Of course, some of it was hidden in sealed court documents to minimize her humiliation.  It paid to have sympathetic relatives in the legal system. 

“Why are you being so mean to me?”

“Because you’re hiding something.”

“No.”  She swiped at a drop of moisture trailing down her cheek.  Not a tear, just a drop of moisture.  “I’m not.  I just don’t make a practice of tellin’ my whole life story in the first five minutes of meetin’ someone.  Most people don’t give a fuck.”

“Well, I do give a fuck, so tell me.”

 “How about you let Tony tell you, once he finds out?”  She lifted her chin defiantly, even as her body quaked with nervous fear. 

Stop bein’ scared, Lilah Jane.  He isn’t gonna hit you, and he can only make you feel as worthless as you let him. 

Bullied or not, she still wasn’t spilling her guts.  This had nothing to do with Jon, and she’d be damned if he would find out her story before Tony did – before she had a chance to prove that she wasn’t crazy.

Believin’ in Fate doesn’t make you crazy, Lilah Jane.  No matter what anybody says.

“Don’t tell me you were actually going to confess?” the current bane of her existence practically sneered.

She was done with this.  It was time to leave before she lost her balls, because he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“Confess?  Not at all,” she denied on a shaky breath while sliding out of the booth and standing to curl her fingers around the suitcase handle.  “There’s nothin’ to confess.   I did plan on talkin’ to him today, though.  Afterward, if he doesn’t like what he hears and wants me to go, then I’ll be on the next plane back to Kentucky.  If not…”  She shrugged.  “Well, I guess he and I will work somethin’ out.  Either way, you won’t see me again.  I’ll make sure of it.”