Page 42 of Dead Rockstar

“Depends,” he answered, his lips trailing down to my collar bone. “On what you consider nefarious.”

“I don't know.” I laughed, relishing the feel of his mouth on my skin. It was all I could do not to collapse; my knees felt so weak. “I'd like to think I'm up for anything, but I do happen to know that you toured with Motley Crue, and I figure Nikki Sixx might've taught you some really bad habits...”

“I guess you'll just have to find out.” His mouth was on mine again, and I was kissing him back, my arms around his warm neck, my hands buried in his tangle of long black hair.

“If you're up for it, I am.” I giggled into his neck.

“Believe me, I'm up for it.” He growled, grabbing me by the hips, and I almost started purring right there in his arms. Forget waiting; I wanted him right here, right now.

I was just resigning myself to, it's going to happen it's going to happen, when there was a knock on the door.

Phillip put me down instantly and we stared at each other, startled, both still breathing hard. My hands were still on Phillip's chest. His heart was beating fast.

“Nobody knows we're here,” I whispered. “It's got to be him.” Lee.

“I'll take care of it.” Phillip brushed past me and went to the door, gesturing for me to hide in the bathroom. I went in reluctantly, pushing the door shut but leaving it open a crack as I heard Phillip fumbling with the door handle. I heard him say, “Who are you?” and the voice that replied, “I’m here to see Stormy,” was not Lee Courtney, but rather someone else. Someone whose voice I’d know anywhere. I emerged from the bathroom, confused.

Tess, my ex-husband, was standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Hey, hey, darlin',” Tess said with a big smile, coming into the room and sweeping me into a hug like an old friend. After the pleasure of Phillip's hands – and mouth – all over me, it was an unwelcome sensation and I recoiled. “I knew it was you! At first, I was like, 'nah, it can't be her, why would she be all the way out here, with some weird looking joker like that’…but it is you.'” He grinned at me. He'd cut his hair, and looked oddly tanned, which was weird since it was fall. He was also either baked out of his mind, or drunk, from the way he was stumbling, leaning up against the wall. Knowing him, it was probably both.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded again, gaping at him. “Did you follow us?”

He shook his head. “Well, I did, but only from the Chevron station up the road. I was pumping gas and I saw you come out with a bunch of drinks and I couldn't believe it was you. I didn't know why you'd be out of state, especially out this far, and my curiosity got the better of me.”

“Why didn't you just say hi at the store?” I asked, suspicious.

He laughed. “You were pulling out in too big of a hurry. I had to finish pumping my gas, didn’t I?”

I stared at him, disbelieving, and he stared back at me, all wide-eyed innocence. We'd done this when we were married...he'd jokingly called it the redneck standoff. But I wasn't in the mood today.

“Well, as, uh, nice as it was to see you,” I said, trying to keep my voice polite, my rage simmering underneath, “I'm really tired. It's been a long day. I was just getting ready to go to bed.” Something wasn’t right. I didn’t believe that Tess, who just a few days before was sniffing around my Sloan, just happened to see me at a gas station hundreds of miles from home. Or that he’d follow me to a motel on a whim and knock on the right door. Or that this grand coincidence would happen less than twenty minutes after we'd seen Lee Courtenay follow us. It was all beyond fishy. But I wasn't about to waste any time trying to solve the mystery. The truth was, I didn’t care. I didn’t have any more patience for unwelcome stalkers; not tonight. I wanted to get back to Phillip and finish what we'd started. “Bye, Tess.” I said, gesturing toward the door. “I suggest you don't come back and tell your friend the same. I'm officially out of patience, got it?”

Tess ignored this, turning to Phillip with a look of what could only be described as misguided self-confidence. “I don't believe we've been introduced.” He extended his hand. “Tess Spooner. Stormy's husband.”

If he was waiting for recognition, embarrassment or shame to show on Phillip's face, he was disappointed. Phillip stared at his outstretched hand and made a point of putting his own large hands in his pockets. He didn't offer his name in return, but instead looked at me, waiting for my cue.

“You look kinda familiar,” Tess continued, peering up at him. “We meet before? Did you go to our high school?”

Phillip still didn't respond but gestured his head toward the door in an unmistakable command. Leave.

I had told Tess to go, and here he was, still standing around, clogging up space. After years of being ignored and ill-treated by him, something in me finally snapped. “Get the fuck OUT, Tess!” I yelled, my face turning red. “Do you fucking hear me? Out. Now.”

“What's wrong, darlin'?” His face was a picture of innocence.

“Don't play dumb with me,” I thundered, inching closer to him. “You show up in town less than a week ago, calling Sloan, asking her for favors, trying to get information out of her. And now I happen to go out of town and you miraculously show up at the same motel within five minutes of me arriving? How dumb exactly do you think I am?”

“I swear, darlin’.” He put his hands up in mock surrender. “It's a coincidence. I came back to Brunswick to get some of my stuff, after I got out of rehab. Roberta and I left the next day.”

I didn't even know he had been to rehab. I hated myself for the pang I felt at being cut out of his life. It was a joke, was what it was. This man wasn't shit. That was clear as day. And yet, I still felt sad. We'd had something, once. If nothing else, he’d kept me from feeling alone. Years of security, comfort, companionship, after my shitty, isolated childhood…He had given me that much. I bristled against those feelings and settled instead with the rage. I set a firm eye on him. “I'm glad to hear it, but you still need to go. And don’t come back, Tess. This is messed up.”

“It is a coincidence,” he insisted. “My girlfriend – you remember Roberta - has family out this way. We were in town last week, but we came back here this mornin' to stay with her aunt for a few days. She's real sick.”

“Whatever.” I put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him to the door. “Just go.”

“You sure do look pretty, darlin',” he said with a smile as I jostled him out. “Whatever you're doin',” he winked at me, “it agrees with you.”

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