Convincing Constance (The Blow Hole Boys), page 12
Weeks went by, and Tony and I spent that time getting to know each other better. During the day, we’d go out shopping or go to the beach, and then I’d spend my night in his arms. He gave up his pills for me and even though occasionally he’d have a drink with the boys, things were perfect. I was the happiest I’d been in a long time.
I sat with Zeke and we played and made up some new chords, which was unreal. He was a total asshole, but damn he was good at playing. His hand was doing much better and everyone was happy he would be able to join in on the new album.
As far as I went, I picked up a few jobs playing in some local bands. Sometimes, Tony and the guys would come out and watch and end up stealing the show, but I didn’t mind. I was just happy to be with him.
“Have I told you how much I love watching you finger your guitar?” Tony whispered in my ear on the way back to the condo.
“All the time.” I smiled into the dark.
“I can’t wait to get you home so I can take advantage of you. That new skirt you’re wearing gets me hard just looking at it.”
I reached down and pulled my skirt up enough so he could see the tattoo on my thigh he loved so much. “What this thing?” I grinned over at him.
“Go ahead and tease me. I’ll get payback when we get home,” he said as he nibbled my earlobe.
“Umm, I love payback.”
Turning to the side, I brought his lips to mine. We made out in the back of the car while Finn bitched about it in the front seat. Chet, on the other hand, was enjoying the show.
“Damn, Tiny, you should let me watch,” Chet said.
Tony lifted his hand to flip him off and I smiled against his lips.
That night he got his payback—all night long—and the next day my thighs ached as if I’d spent the night riding a horse.
Things were going entirely too perfect, and I couldn’t help but think something was going to swoop in and fuck it all up. Three days later, that something did indeed swoop in.
It was a Sunday and we were lounging on the couch, watching TV, when a loud knock sounded. I went to the door to answer it and found Shay standing there staring back at me.
Her hair was no longer blue but instead a bright red. She stared back at me behind her thin-rimmed glasses.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” I asked.
I hadn’t seen much of Shay and KC since I’d starting seeing Tony, but they understood since they were out busy trying to get what I already had.
“I have bad news, Constance. Your mom’s in the hospital. It’s not looking good. You should get there as soon as possible,” Shay said with a pale face.
I wasn’t my mom’s biggest fan, but she was my mother. I ran to our room and changed into something that wasn’t full of holes, and then I grabbed the keys to my Malibu and headed for the door.
“I’ll take you, baby,” Tony said as he took my keys and pulled me to the elevator.
Apparently, Shay had filled him in when I left her standing in the doorway.
I remember getting in Tony’s big SUV. I remember the drive to the hospital, but everything was a big blur. When we got to the hospital doors, Tony pulled back.
“I’ll meet you in there, okay?”
I nodded and gave him a kiss before I walked away.
After talking to three different nurses, I was sent in the right direction. Mom was in the intensive care unit and apparently had been brought in by an ambulance due to an accidental overdose.
They allowed me to go in, and when I did, I was met with my mom lying in bed, full of tubes and wires. Everything from my past came rushing over me. The night in my bedroom with Jack, the loss of my father, everything.
My knees buckled beneath me and I sat in the chair beside my mom’s bed just in time to keep myself from falling. I sat there staring at my mother and again swore to myself that I’d never let drugs or alcohol take over my life. I swore to myself I’d never allow myself to be near the shit again.
I sat and waited for Tony to come and be there with me, but he never came. Finally, Shay showed up outside the hospital room since she wasn’t allowed in. She handed me the keys to Tony’s SUV.
“He said he wasn’t feeling well and to give you these.”
I took the keys from her and nodded. I remembered Tony telling me about his crazy fear of hospitals, and I understood. With all the madness going on around me, I’d forgotten all about it as he drove me to the hospital. As a matter of fact, it was sweet that he’d driven me there in the first place, not knowing if he’d even be able to go in. I couldn’t wait to get back to him and hug him.
My mom died the following morning. I stood to the side and watched as they unhooked everything that was keeping her alive and even though we had a shitty relationship, my heart broke.
With the exception of Tony and a few friends, I was completely alone. My mom nor my father had any brothers or sisters. I was an only child, and both sets of grandparents on both sides were already long gone.
I walked out of the hospital with tears on my cheeks and an extra hole in my heart. Not to mention the guilt that was pressing down on me for not trying harder to help my mom when she asked for it.
TONY STOOD AT MY SIDE as we released my mother’s ashes into the ocean off of the Santa Monica pier. It seemed fitting since I knew that was where she’d met my father. I could remember her telling me it was the best night of her entire life.
Afterward, Tony took me home where I lay in his arms and cried until I fell asleep. Crying wasn’t something I did in front of anyone, but with him it was different. We were past the embarrassment of our honest feelings.
When I woke up, he was still holding me.
“I love you,” I said as I sat up and kissed him.
“I love you, too, pretty girl,” he responded as he tucked my hair behind my ear.
“I’m glad you’re here with me.”
And I was. I had no idea what I would have done without him. It was as if God had given me Tony at the perfect time in my life. He knew my mother would be leaving soon and I needed someone in my world to keep me grounded.
“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
“Thank you,” I whispered into the side of his neck.
“For what?”
“For giving it all up for me. Drugs have ruined every person I’ve ever loved. I could never sit by and watch while they ruined you, too. I know it must have been hard, but you did it, and you proved how much you love me when you did.”
His body tensed a little before he brought my face to his and looked me in the eyes.
“I do love you, Constance. More than I ever thought was possible.”
And then he kissed me and spent the rest of the night showing me how much.
I WAS THE WORST KIND of asshole and liar. I knew that. Every time I snuck a pill without Constance seeing, I hated myself. I wanted to quit for her. I wanted it more than anything else, but I really hadn’t realized how addicted I was.
Part of me wanted to go to her and tell her I needed help—apologize for lying to her and get her to understand, but the addict in me wouldn’t let me. He was a vile piece of shit that put drugs and the way they made me feel ahead of everything else.
I was the happiest I’d ever been, and still, I couldn’t let the pills go. Lies never end well, and just like I knew it wouldn’t, my lie didn’t stay a secret for long.
A month after Constance’s mom passed, the boys and I started going to the studio to work on our new album. It was stressful and the cooler weather was starting to set in, which made the pain almost unbearable some nights.
I’d gone from sneaking one or two pills, to downing a handful like I had before I made my promise. The fifth night we were laying down new tracks, the pain became too much. My thighs and hips ached and the skin around my scars felt as if it were on fire.
Pulling out my baggy, I emptied a handful of pills into my palm and chased them with a beer. I didn’t remember much after the pills kicked in. And when I woke up in my bed with just my boxers on and alone, I couldn’t even remember how I’d gotten there.
I sat up in bed and my head swam, making me feel nauseated.
“Fuck,” I said as I covered my eyes from the bright sun.
“Yeah, fuck is right,” Constance said from my side.
I didn’t want to look. I knew when I opened my eyes, Constance would be there looking down on me with pain in her eyes.
Looking up at her, she was exactly as I expected, except her eyes were red and puffy from where she’d been crying all night. I sat up completely and grabbed at her thighs to bring her closer.
“Come here, baby,” I said playfully.
She smacked my hands away and shook her head.
“Don’t call me that.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
I knew I was as good as caught, but I couldn’t for the life of me admit to her that I’d lied. I wanted to drop to my knees and tell her how badly I needed her to help me, but my pride kept my ass planted to the bed.
And then I opened my mouth and said something that I knew was the wrong thing to say. “No.”
“Liar,” she whispered and her voice broke. “You’re such a liar.”
I had to say something. I had to fix this and make it better, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stood and walked to my dresser to pull out a T-shirt. I couldn’t look her in the face. It was wrong and it hurt so badly, but I knew I had to keep lying if I wanted to keep her.
“I’m talking about the stash of pills in the top of your closet. I’m talking about the fact that you came home so fucked out of your mind last night that I had to stay awake and make sure you were breathing!” she screamed. “How could you do this to me? You promised. Everyone I love chooses drugs. You promised.” I looked up to find tears rushing down her cheeks and my heart broke so hard a sharp pain cut across my chest.
I’d done that. I’d made her cry. She deserved so much better than me. Especially since no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop taking the pills. Maybe I didn’t love her enough. Maybe there was someone out there that could love her so much they’d do anything for her. I wanted to be that guy, but I just couldn’t.
“You knew what you were getting into when you got with me.”
And then I was doing it. I was pushing her away. I was saying exactly what I knew would make her run from me, and I hated myself for it.
She stared at me with her mouth gaped open, and then she moved until she was standing right in front of me.
“What the fuck is your problem?” She dug her finger into my chest. “Who do you think you are?” She was getting loud again.
As sick as it was, it turned me on. I wanted her to punish me. Dig her fingernails into my scarred flesh until I bled out all the anger and addiction that pumped through my veins. And then I snapped.
“You’re my fucking problem!” I yelled back.
And then I was on the move. I couldn’t take it. I needed a pill. It was my weakness and I knew the minute she walked out of my door I didn’t want to feel anything. I knew her leaving would cause the worst pain I’d ever felt and I wanted to prepare.
I dug through the top of my closet and found nothing.
“Where’s my fucking stash? And don’t say you didn’t take it because you’re the only one who even knows it exists.” I turned on her.
The blood behind my eyes was starting to throb with my heartbeat. She had me more pissed and hurt and turned on than I’d been, ever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said calmly as she crossed her arms and looked away.
“Fine, you want to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. How about I show you?”
I pulled her close to me and she thrashed about, not giving in, fighting harder than some men.
“Get your fucking hands off of me, Tony. I’m not playing. I’ll beat your ass like no man ever could.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed sarcastically. “I’d like to see that. What are you going to do? Talk me to death?”
It was heated. The room felt twenty degrees hotter just around us. I was turned on and pissed off and I wanted to take it all out inside of her.
“Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” I finally asked.
It was obvious she was trying to torture me—turn me inside out and leave me more broken than I could ever be.
“You need help,” she whispered.
“Don’t tell me what I need! You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
It was a lie. She knew me better than anyone else ever had. She knew and understood the darkness inside of me. What she didn’t understand was the sickness of addiction that lived in me as well.
“I know you have a problem. And I know you know it, too. The guys look away, but if they really cared about you, they wouldn’t.” Again, a tear streaked down her face and another part of my soul broke away.
“No you have it backward. I think the guys look away because they care about me. They know I need it. You’re not looking away. What’s that say about you, Constance? I think it means you never loved me.”
My way of thinking was totally fucked up, but at that point, I was just talking out of my ass. I was so mixed up and technically still fucked up from the night before.
She stopped everything and looked up at me with big, hurt eyes.
“It says I’m a stupid fuck-up,” she said.
She leaned over under the dresser and grabbed my baggy. Tossing it into my chest she stepped away from me.
“There’s your precious stash. I hope it’s worth me and your life.”
She walked to the door and picked up her bags that I hadn’t realized were already packed, and then she stepped out of the room, shutting the door and stopping my heart from ever feeling anything but anguish and pain.
“OKAY. TRY IT ONE MORE time,” Jazz said as she adjusted the amplifiers and pressed the record button in front of her.
She sat and twirled a long black braid and nodded her head to the music. Jazz was a professional through and through when it came to music. The girl knew her shit when it came to the business. I remembered being so excited to work with her since I knew she worked with the best. I had no idea then that we’d become great friends.
We were wrapping up recording our second album, and I was proud to say I’d written most of the songs. I’d been the lead guitarist for Red Room Sirens, an all-girl rock group, for three years, and we were just starting to enter the scene. I wasn’t fond of being recognized in the streets, but it was all part of the job.
The year after I left the condo of sin, otherwise known as the home of Blow Hole, was the hardest year of my life. I was depressed and miserable. I lived in more places than I had in my entire life. I crashed on couches, stayed in shitty motels, and slept in the back of my car more than I’d like to admit.
Gary Steele stayed true to his word and got me a few gigs here and there, but nothing that paid anything decent, but it was enough to put gas in my car or get a decent meal. I was thankful for that much. I went from replacement lead guitarist of one of the hottest bands around to no one, just like that.
When Gary approached me about putting together an all-girl rock group, I jumped all over it. Mostly because I needed the money, but also because as much as I hated to admit it, I missed being on the stage. I missed the adrenaline that worked through my veins when the crowd went wild over a solo I played. It didn’t help that every time I even picked up my guitar, I thought of him. Maybe being in a band made me feel closer to the person that I’d spent the last four years of my life missing.
There were still times when people asked about my time with Blow Hole, but I’d always blow off the questions and find something else to talk about. Four years later and I still couldn’t even say his name, much less talk about our time together. It’s amazing how someone who only played a brief role in your life could alter you so completely. Tony altered me in good ways and bad.
Lena, the lead singer of Red Room Sirens, screamed into the mic. She had one hell of a set of pipes on her, and I loved how easy she made it look. The guys in the crowd always loved her. She had the body of a goddess and a smile that put the stage lights to shame. She would shake her long, dark hair and stare the crowd down with her big brown eyes, and they were done.
I picked up the backup into my mic, matching her rhythm the best I could. I had never tried singing, but as it turned out, I wasn’t half bad. I even sang lead on a few of our songs. It was a fun change from the guitar, but nothing that I’d do permanently.
After that take, we were sure we had it.
“That’s it, girls. You bitches rocked too hard today,” Jazz said into the speaker as we started to pack up and get ready to leave. “I’ll get it over to Gary and the guys. I think we’ve got gold this time around.”
“I’d say. I thought my fucking hands were going to fall off. I haven’t played the drums that much since I was a wet-behind-the-ears clit licker,” Hope said.
Hope was all the colors of the rainbow, and from week to week, her hair matched her sexual orientation. She reminded me so much of Chet. She had no filter whatsoever and swung any which way her twat would take her. At least that’s what she’d say if you asked her. Men, women, cucumbers, I’d seen it all, sadly, and some of that shit you just couldn’t un-see.
Her unique style is what made her stick out the most. The girl would wear just about anything and didn’t give a shit who liked it or who didn’t. My favorite thing was her shants—pants and shorts combined. There was nothing like seeing her walk around with one leg covered and one not. It worked for her, and everyone loved her.
After we finished at the studio, I drove back to my one-bedroom apartment and drowned out the sounds outside my car with Three Days Grace. Playing guitar for the Sirens made it possible for me to afford it. It wasn’t the extravagance my dad was used to, but it was plenty enough for me.
As soon as I walked in the door, I kicked off my boots and stripped down to my tank and shorts. I barely made it into the kitchen before my cell started to ring. I had to search through my jeans’ pocket on the floor. Lena’s name flashed on the screen and I answered it.
