Page 16 of The Fall Of Sky


  Another slam of his fist on the table shut me up, my words jamming in my throat.

  “That is not of your concern, is it, Liv?” He leaned forward, his lips pressed so tightly they paled before my eyes. Even his accent thickened as he continued. “Your job is to sing and be the pretty face, isn’t it?”

  “You forgot being your girlfriend,” I muttered. The moment I said the words, I regretted them. Jonas’ face deepened into a deep maroon as his eyes burned, and his rage was beginning to wear on the lines across his face.

  “Emilio will no longer be near you or Audrey. He has more important things to spend his time on than a little rock and roll band security detail. I won’t waste his resourcefulness on trifle minute things,” he spat, shaking as he attempted to regain control of his temper. Turning to Emilio, he tossed the envelope toward him. “Get it done. I don’t want to see your face here in Los Angeles for a good long time. There’re things that need to be done besides having fun.”

  No…no…no. Jonas was sending Emilio away? How dared he? He knew something about us…that was the only explanation. Why else would he do this?

  “But why?” I just couldn’t help myself, could I? My hands shook as I wrung them together in my lap, hoping to keep myself from falling apart at this sickening news.

  Jonas didn’t turn back toward me. Instead, he stared at Emilio, his eyes darkening with a violent fury, threatening to spill over, daring him to refuse.

  “You have your orders. You may go now, brother…”

  They stared at each other for a good long minute, both challenging the other to make the first move. The world was going to implode around me, and there was nothing I could do to make it stop.

  Emilio threw me one tiny glance, not risking showing anything in those beautiful, tan brown eyes of his. He bowed his head to Jonas, letting his gaze drop to the floor, away from me, in submission. How it ached to feel his eyes leave mine, like someone had stolen the warmth from the air surrounding this tiny bubble of a life I barely managed to live. I’d lost so much along the way and knew very well how it felt when things were going to be lost again. It was a freight train heading my way, and I was stuck on the tracks, unable to move to save my own life. I wanted to let go of the chair arms, but only managed to grip onto them even harder, as though I were holding on to them for dear life.

  “Of course. I always do as you ask. We’re brothers. Are we not?” With that, he turned away and walked around the desk. He came to a stop next to me, avoiding looking my way as he spoke with a cool, steady tone. “It was a pleasure serving you and your sister, Miss Westing. May your music bring you and Jonas much fortune and happiness…”

  Like a slap in the face, he swiftly left the room and marched down the hall. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him felt like a needle piercing my heart, and I found myself staring at the closed door, inhaling slowly in and out, now gripping the chair like it could transport me anywhere else but here. Better yet, I wanted to run after Emilio, grab his hand, and run away together from this oppressive environment which was suffocating us both.

  But that wasn’t an option, was it? I remained glued to my chair, knowing every step I took, every emotion that crossed my face, every action I made would not only affect my entire world, but also Audrey’s, Saul’s, and especially…Emilio’s. My world had just walked out the door without me, without a clue to where he’d be headed, or when I’d see him again, if ever. My heart was being ripped out as I tried my hardest to focus my head back into the room where Jonas was speaking to me again.

  “Emilio’s team will remain under instructions of his second in command, Lonzo, so nothing will drastically change, really. It’ll be like Emilio is still there, so there really isn’t anything to worry about, Bonita.” Jonas’ cold smile made me sick to my stomach, and I was probably turning an unsightly shade of green as he kept on about other stuff that didn’t have anything to do with Emilio anymore. Why did he want to erase Emilio from his life so? From mine? I knew why, but I thought he’d be better than that. To send his own brother away, good as banished, confused me. I’d never do anything to keep my sister away. Never.

  In this lies the greatest difference between them and us.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Four Months Later….

  Audrey

  “Thank you for having us! Goodnight Chicago!” Gripping Liv and Saul’s hands as we thanked the crowd, the roar echoed in my ears as we stared across the expanse of the stadium, filled with bobbing heads, flashes from camera phones, and the endless blinding lights dancing above us and into our faces, making the crowd disappear into it. I loved it. There was nothing like the end of the show when people called out our names and screamed for more.

  Encore! Encore! Encore!

  Even Liv thrived on it. It became our drug, our nightly hit of pure adrenaline with a shot of star power. The arenas were filling up, selling out, and each venue got bigger and bigger. Our station wagon was left behind in storage as we toured the country in a tripped out tour bus that contained every little necessary accommodation a person could need…could want…and more. The moment we’d stepped inside it the first week of our stateside tour, we were enamored to say the least.

  “Is this for real?” Liv and I eyed each other before diving into the tour bus and examining every gadget, nook, button and hideaway it offered. It’d been a glorious day, beyond belief, more than either of us had ever imagined we’d have.

  “It’s as real as it fucking gets!” I couldn’t contain myself at that moment. These echoes of our laughter…our happiness…kept me alive in the moments of doubt, the moments which woke me up in the middle of the night and choked me up before getting on stage. Liv never showed anything of nervousness, beyond her drinking. She was always so poised, solid and secure. Relaxed and loose. I wanted to be that way, unmoving in the face of a tidal wave called fame. Where Liv fed off the energy of the crowd and came alive, even though I did the same sometimes, it was the after burn… the moments when the energy ebbed away without the crowd where my insides turned cold again.

  Luckily, Saul would snap me out of it almost immediately. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate what I had, but everything felt fragile, aching to fall apart and disintegrate. I wasn’t usually a pessimist, but something was coming to wreck it all. I didn’t know when or what would cause it, especially since the main reason of my uneasiness, Emilio, was gone. We were still working for Jonas, still his pawns, his pariahs. How could we ever truly be free if this tied us all together, forever?

  “Hey, you okay, Audrey?” Saul slipped his hands over my shoulders as we settled into the green room. His fingers kneaded at my shoulders and neck, forcing me to relax as I released the tension, letting it flow out with a long exhale. I had to make a conscious effort to do this, or I’d remain wound up tight and hard, ready to shatter like a plate glass window with the right blow.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. You?” I leaned forward, my signal for him to stop. Saul never missed a beat. He headed over to the water cooler, filling two cups before returning and taking Liv’s chair next to mine.

  “Never better. You know me… nothing much fazes me.” His wide toothy grin broke through my force field, and I let his contagious attitude dilute mine.

  “I’m glad nothing does. Someone has to remain grounded here.”

  Liv swayed into the dressing room, shirtless but with her black bra still on. Never had I ever been relieved to know Saul couldn’t see her like this. She was already shitfaced, having most definitely finished off a bottle of something, and then some, while in the restroom. The thick smell of alcohol followed in her wake.

  “How’s it going, Sis?” I mumbled, feeling the released tension itching to return in a millisecond.

  Liv was humming to herself, and it dug under my skin for some odd reason. I wished I could just forget a lot of things and let her bury herself if she chose to do so. So done.

  “Liv?” I questioned her again.

  “Hmm?” Liv l
eaned toward me, her glassy eyes shiny under the lights of the vanity mirror’s illumination.

  “Did you even hear me?” I downed the cup of water, surprised to find I wanted more. Performing drained every drop of fluid out of me, and I never drank enough water to keep the thirst at bay.

  “Going to go hang out with some friends tonight.” She sashayed toward the door, trying to look sober, but I caught the tiniest of trips as she grabbed for the knob, saving herself from upturning onto the floor in a belly flop. “See?” She opened the door and waved to a group of young men—fans patiently waiting on the other side with security.

  Lonzo spotted us and frowned. “They with you, Miss Westing?” He directed the question toward Liv, but flicked his steely eyes toward the unsavory group beside him. Meeting my gaze, he frowned, like I was to blame for this mess. Just perfect.

  “They’re with me! I’ll be out in a moment guys!” Liv giggled as Lonzo’s face burned with frustration. She swayed through the doorway, waving goodbye as she waited for me to reciprocate.

  “You’ve got to be seriously kidding me, right?” I sank into my chair, feeling the touch of exhaustion push at my senses. My skin was tingly, numb almost, and my muscles burned from the coordination it took to dance and sing at the same time. It took effort to be a rock star. No one ever told me just how good a shape one had to be to rock it out every single night. I was constantly drenched in sweat, out of breath, and collapsed after every show from the effort. I didn’t know how Liv did it without suffering. I felt a hundred years old by the time the night was over. Wasn’t I way too young to be such a lightweight?

  “Oh, come on, Sis. I have to get some air. This prison show on wheels kind of starts to suck the air out of me. Just for a couple hours.” She reached for me and caught the arms of my chair as she giggled into my face. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes made me choke.

  Pathetic.

  “You’re already loaded. How do I know you won’t collapse out there with these perfect strangers at any moment?” I cringed at the thought of that happening. What if they took advantage of an unconscious Liv?

  “Oh, shut it. You’ve seen me drunker! I’ve seen you drunker…what was it? Sarge? Captain? Shit, I got to watch that movie again…Into the wind? Gone Wind?”

  “Gone with the Wind.” I felt my voice croaking from the effort of not knocking Liv out myself. I turned away, found my reflection in the mirror, and focused my attention away from the train wreck called my sister. I didn’t want to know anything anymore. Didn’t want to be part of this stranger Liv.

  “That’s da one...See you later, lover birds! Oh…and Audrey…don’t wait up. I’ll be back soon!”

  The door slammed behind her in a rush of voices infiltrating the peace of our dressing room before being cut off as Lonzo herded the crowd away. I closed my eyes, trying to erase the look of exhaustion etching itself slowly across my face. I looked it, felt like utter crap. Damn, how did Liv do it? I had to admit, I was a tad bit jealous of her nonstop energies. That fucking bitch.

  “Hungry?” Saul’s calm voice felt like pillar in the middle of a cave.

  I found his gorgeous face with those mesmerizing eyes I could never get enough of. Their icy blue tint was a calm ocean on a windless day, and I wanted to dive in and snuggle up close to him forever. Giving him a smile, I reached for him, leaving my chair to lean on his.

  “You know me too well.”

  “That’s because I love you. Of course I should know you by now.”

  I studied his eyes, hoping to see more than the blindness they represented. In response, he placed a warm hand on my arm, stroking his fingers up then down until the goosebumps flared, and my heart refused to stop its fluttering madness in my ribcage.

  “Let me change,” I answered. “I’ll be right out and we can get some grub. I need fuel to think. It’s been months since Emilio left, but Liv isn’t the same. I still feel as uneasy as ever. Why? We have everything we’ve ever wanted, but there’s no peace.” I tapped my chest, hoping he got what my body language was saying. It was so strange to realize so much of our verbal cues were from physical motion. I wondered if he understood half of what I was trying to say.

  “Get changed.” He threw me a wide, charming smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Liv

  The nights turned into a blur of lights, voices, and endless alcoholic drinks. I didn’t really care to count how many I drank, who was with me, or even where I was for that matter. I wasn’t being careful, and I knew it would catch up to me eventually. Nevertheless, I partied the nights away with these strangers, fans, groupies, whatever you called them. Fame had its benefits, and it was an endless good time.

  “Liv…hey, Liv!” A girl tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to spill my current beverage on the guy putting his moves on in front of me.

  We both froze before I eyed him up and down, studying the large red stain seeping through his H&M shirt and light slacks. That was never going to come out.

  “Um… sorry ‘bout that.” I gave him a cheeky grin before turning to glare at the culprit. “What’s going on now?” The bargirl held out a cordless phone in my face, looking as frustrated as she could to have to mingle in the mob of bodies stinking of pheromones and cheap alcohol. Believe me, I barely tolerated it myself.

  “Phone call for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  The girl rolled her eyes, turning to walk back to the bar while shaking her head of tight blond curls.

  Bitch.

  “Hey wait!” I called out to her, “Can you point me to a quieter place to talk?” I curled my fingers over the sleeve of her white bartender’s long sleeve uniform. It was dreadful and plain but tight over her breasts, and with the black vest they made them wear to work here, it accentuated what little she did have. I gave her shirt another tug before she responded to me.

  “Alright! Go up the stairs and to your right is the VIP room. It’s open.” She yanked her arm away and stomped off back to her station, looking perfectly disturbed. I grinned. My work here was done. They watered down the drinks way too much here anyway. I put the phone to my ear but really couldn’t decipher anything but the pumping beat of music and voices echoing around me.

  “One sec, let me get to a quieter place. Can’t hear a fucking thing,” I said, hoping whomever it was calling would wait. If they didn’t, oh well, right? I didn’t really care either way. I needed a breather, so finding the VIP room was ideal for me. Couldn’t wait to get out of the suffocating and nauseating thrum of people who kept knocking into me and stepping on my toes.

  I was ready to punch someone who grabbed me from behind, but was able to shake them off into the crowd before I got a good look at them. A guy for sure. Only men tended to grab women that way, not that I never had a woman try to hang on at any of the concerts we had and at the meet and greets. It’s just something I had experience in but never wished to repeat. I could beat them with the best of them.

  Finally hopping up the stairs and down the hall where the bathrooms were, I made it to a room with a subtle ‘VIP ROOM’ sign off to one side of the door. Peering around, I had to make sure no one followed me before I turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was dim, but the flashing lights of the dancefloor below kept the room in a constant glow. I clicked the door shut behind me and put the phone to my ear. The softer thump of bass from the club music vibrated the room through the walls and floor, making its way up my legs. I continued to sway to the music as I listened hard for my caller.

  “Hello?” I pressed the phone harder to my ear, hoping I hadn’t lost the caller in the madness of the club.

  “Liv…It’s Emilio.”

  I almost dropped the phone, but caught it before it had a chance to slide down my chest. Emilio? How did he even know where I was?

  “Hi! Oh…wow! How’d you find me? I didn’t tell anyone where I was tonight.” I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing at my own stupidity. I should tell people w
here I’d be; less of a chance to end up in an alley dead and unidentified. Plus, it would probably make it easier to find me if Emilio wanted to get hold of me. I usually left my cell phone in the tour bus.

  “It wasn’t easy, but I have my ways, love.”

  “Where are you?” I pressed my hand against the glass of the room’s walls overlooking the club. The crowd looked like a glob of people canned together like sardines, and the endless momentum of their bodies was dizzying from this high up. All of it, the music, lights, and the constant buzzing of alcohol in my head made me not take notice of the door clicking closed behind me.

  “Look behind you.”

  I jumped around, eyes widening as I studied the figure standing in the middle of the room. His dark hair appeared longer than before, slightly curling under his ears and over his neck in ways I wanted to reach out to touch the strands. His eyes were dark in the dim glow of the room, but I’d recognize them anywhere.

  “Emilio...” I dropped the phone and ran toward him, crashing into his body with a fury. I wanted to melt into him, become one and never be parted. Here he was after months of silence, no calls, no messages, emails or letters. Nothing. He’d disappeared, became a ghost of sorts. How could he have done that to me? How could he just leave and never try to reach out to me again?

  I stepped back and slapped him.

  “What was that for?” He rubbed his cheek, giving a pained expression.

  “You disappeared.”

  I had a feeling I’d underestimated Jonas’ control far more than I’d ever imagined. Maybe Emilio had his hands tied this entire time. Maybe he couldn’t contact me due to the risk of being discovered. So many things ran through my head that could’ve been or probably were. I didn’t care. He was here now, and I was more than relieved to touch my love, my heart, again.

  “I’m sorry…”

  I kissed him, all over—his lips, cheeks, neck, earlobes, all the places I could with my mouth to savor his taste and inhale his smell like an antidote to this everlasting depression and void I’d sunken into for the last few months without him. How could I survive his absence again? Would I if I had to? I didn’t want to know the answer to that, for then it would seem I’d have to ask if he was going to disappear again. Anything but that…please…