The Trouble with Rock Stars: Jackson's Story (Access All Areas 3) - Page 4

Yes, I would go back to the bar. I’d go back and prove to Jackson he hadn’t broken me. I’d be happy without him. I wouldn’t cut myself off from my other friends just because he was a pig.

Chapter 3 Jackson

I POURED MYSELF ANOTHER drink. The whiskey was warm. It’d be better with ice but I didn’t have the caring to get up and get it. I wasn’t even sure if I had any ice left in the trays. I’d last filled them about two years ago. Probably wouldn’t be any good now anyway.

I wouldn’t return to the bar, not for a long time. I didn’t have the strength to avoid Gina’s eyes and, if I put hurt into them, I’d hate myself all the more. Or, maybe I was more scared that there would be no hurt. That she’d shrug it off and be okay with things. It was entirely possible that I’d overreacted and her feelings for me weren’t nearly as strong as I’d believed.

Without the bar, I didn’t have much to do with my time. I could go to another bar but that would be like starting afresh. I’d have to deal with strangers asking all kinds of stupid questions. Human interaction, I could do without. At Trouble, they knew me. They didn’t get all up in my face about things. If I wanted to talk, I could talk. If I didn’t, they left me alone.

Instead, I sat in my apartment and drank. Somehow, drinking alone like that seemed so much sadder than drinking in a bar. The bottle on the rickety table, my glass not cleaned between shots. I had a well-thumbed paperback in front of me but I couldn’t focus on the words. My mind kept replaying the look on Gina’s face. Like a nightmare on a loop. I’d crushed her. That’s what I’d wanted, but I’d never thought it’d be that horrific.

My place wasn’t much, just a room with a bed and kitchen. I had a bathroom, of course. The apartment faced over the river though and, seated at the table, I could watch the boats cruising by. At night, when the sun set, the lights twinkled and were reflected. It wasn’t a bad place to live. I’d bought it years ago when the money flowed like wine and the wine flowed even freer. The future stretched like a glittering path with no end in sight.

We’d done it, we’d paid our dues and we’d worked our arses off. So had a lot of others but we were the ones with that extra something. A bit of talent, a bit of good timing and a whole dash of magic. We couldn’t put a foot wrong — until we did. Then it all came crashing down.

Luckily, when things had been doing strong, my brother had talked me into buying this place.

“It’s perfect,” he’d said. “You can use it as a base to come back to when you’re on tour. And, if you decide you want something grander, you can use it as an investment. No point pouring money into a landlord’s pocket when you aren’t even there most of the time.”

I’d paid cash for the place. Nick’s words had made sense. I never got a hankering to move somewhere grander though, even before things went bad. I’m not a man who needs luxury and this place was comfortable.

I poured another drink. It was a slow night without anything around to distract me. This was my third night of drinking alone. I’d start talking to the shadows soon.

Gina would be coming into the bar around about now. She’d be looking around for me, maybe, to see if I’d weakened and come back. There’d be no Carlie. She was off having a breakdown or something crazy over that rocker boyfriend of hers. Violet would be there though, and Alex, strutting around the place like he owned it. Which he did.

Gina might sit and talk to Violet a while. She’d do that thing where she twisted her hair around her finger. The two of them would

laugh. And she’d shoot me those secret looks but I wouldn’t be there to get them. She’d just be looking into an empty corner of the bar.

Maybe some guy would hit on her and she’d realize I was right about being too old and miserable for her. That guy would make her laugh and pay her compliments. He’d put the sunshine back into her eyes. And I had no right to say anything or do anything because I was the one who’d tossed her aside.

I needed some music. Something to break up my maudlin thoughts. I never listened to music at home. It was one of those things I didn’t do anymore. But tonight, I needed music. I needed music and whiskey and loneliness. I reached over and flicked on the radio and shook a cigarette out of my packet.

Before I could light it, someone knocked on my door. It couldn’t be the neighbors complaining about the noise, the radio wasn’t that loud. Other than that, I had no idea why anyone would be knocking. If I ignored them, they’d go away and I could back to serious business – drinking and brooding.

They knocked again. It’d take more than that to get me to answer. I turned the volume up on the radio and leaned back in my chair. I had all the time in the world and they’d go away eventually. Nothing to see here.

“Jackson, you total shithead, open this door now or I’ll smash it down.”

Carlie was back in town.

I ignored her. Well, I tried. There was no ignoring Carlie when she got her back up.

“Jackson, I’m warning you. Do not fuck with me.”

She started kicking at my door. Mrs. Blakely across the hallway would pop her head out soon and tell Carlie to shut up. Carlie might think she was tough but old Mrs. Blakely was a helluva lot tougher. She’d chase Carlie down the stairs with a broom if she had to. It’d almost be worth watching.

I counted to ten, waiting, with Carlie still yelling at me. I heard the creak of Mrs. Blakely’s door and then voices. She’d deal with Carlie and then Carlie would be on her way.

The two of them talked, much more quietly than I expected. I couldn’t hear a word of it.

I gulped down my drink, expecting to hear Carlie thump down the stairs at any moment. Still quiet. I was tempted to open the door to see what was happening but I wouldn’t fall into that trap. The moment I opened the door, either Carlie would be still there or Mrs. Blakely would give me a serve for having her come around. I wasn’t up for that.

A moment later, the knocking started again. But this time there were two of them doing it. Damn she-devils. I had to open the door if I wanted any peace.

As the door opened, Carlie half spilled into the room. I saw Mrs. Blakely’s door shut behind her.

“What do you want?” I asked.

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