Trapped Under Ice (28 page)

“Roger, don’t you dare blame yourself. Michelle knew what she was getting into when she married you. And since she traveled with you anyway, it shouldn’t have made much of a difference.” She noticed the alcohol helped him to calm down a little bit; in fact, he was beginning to appear sleepy. Concerned about the amount he had consumed already, she suggested he lie down for a while.

“You know, I think I will. I’ve been up all night. I’m beat.” He swayed to his feet, putting his hands on the table to steady himself. “Thanks, you guys, for listening.”

“Any time, bud,” Chad answered for the two of them.

Roger turned to go, but then swiveled back around to take the bottle with him. Once they heard Keith’s door close, they began to talk in earnest.

“Man, poor guy.”

“I can’t believe Michelle. I always liked her. If she were here right now I would throttle her.”

Chad, who had his arm around her shoulders, lifted his hand to rub her hair. “And I thought I was the violent one.” He bent in to steal a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for hours.”

“I know. Me, too.” She laid her head on his shoulder for a moment, again absorbed in thought. After a while, she shook herself. “Chad, would you mind if I took a shower? I feel all grubby.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll probably hop in after you.”

A half hour later, Beth left the bathroom feeling refreshed. Chad lay sleeping on the bed, his shoes still on. She slipped his shoes off so he could be more comfortable. She would be leaving in a few hours, so she quietly packed her things. She took her duffle bag and grabbed her laptop and headed out to the living area. Being alone, in peace, Beth was able to crank out a large part of a chapter of her next book. When the bus came to a stop outside of the Izod Center, where they were to play the next night, Chad woke up and came into the kitchen stretching.

“Working on your book?”

“Um-hum.”

Just then, Roger stumbled out of the front bedroom, dropping a bottle in the doorway and leaving it there.

“Wh-what are ya doin’ there, Bethy?”

“She’s working on her next novel,” Chad answered, retrieving the bottle of rum and holding it up with a surprised expression on his face to show her. It was completely empty.

Beth exchanged a worried look with Chad. Roger flopped onto the couch next to her. “What kinda novel?”

“Oh, just a trashy romance novel.”

Roger raised his eyebrows comically. “Ahhh.”

Chad came around and sat down on the other side of Beth. “I wouldn’t say they were trashy.” Something in the way he said it caused her to look at him.

“You’ve read my novels?”

“Just the first two, I’m halfway through the third. They’re great.”

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you read them.” She sat up straighter. “I’m kind of embarrassed.”

“There’s no need to be,” he responded, surprised. “I mean it. I really liked them. They’re funny, but moving, full of action...”

“But it’s nothing like what you do. The music you make, the lyrics you write.”

“I disagree. They’re just different mediums. We both write about people, and passions... It’s actually very similar. That’s why you like my music. It tells a story.”

“And there’s the fact she’s hot for you,” Roger interjected.

She laughed, squeezing Chad’s thigh. “Yeah. There’s that.”

Roger reached up and felt her hair. He examined it drunkenly. “Your hair’s wet. You took a shower. You look good wet.”

“Uh…thank you.” He began to slouch against her and she pushed him up so he sat straighter. She turned to Chad and whispered, “We need coffee.”

“And water or he’ll have one hell of a headache.”

“You speak as if from experience.”

He only smiled in reply.

“There are some water bottles in the fridge.”

“But we’re out of coffee. I checked earlier. I’ll go get some from one of the other buses. You want me to ask Pete to come in here?”

“No. I’ll be fine. You’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay,” he said, and left.

Beth began packing up her laptop while talking to her friend. “Okay, it’s just you and me now, Roger. I’m going to get you some water if you can sit up here by yourself.”

“Of course, I can, B-
hiccup
-Beth. I’m not drunk.” He did remove his weight from her, but his head wobbled back and forth as if it might roll off his shoulders and he had a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah. You’re not drunk. Right.” She set her laptop on the seat by the door with her bag, safely out of harm’s way. Then, she got a bottle of water. Returning, she slid back onto the couch next to him. “Here you go. Drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

“But I feel great,” he countered, smiling even wider.

She handed the bottle to him. “You won’t tomorrow if you don’t drink this.”

“Okay, Bethy. Anything for you. You know, you’re a nice girl. Chad doesn’t deserve you, you know? He can be a real asshole.”

“Can’t we all,” she replied, encouraging him to take another drink of water.

“Ain’t that the truth?” He laughed, and then became serious. “I mean it, Beth.” He reached up to touch her hair. “You’re really beautiful.”

“Uh, Roger…what are you doing?” She leaned away from him.

Chad arrived with the coffee, but as he tried to juggle it and the doorknob at the same time, he accidentally spilled a little on his shoe. He did a little hot-dance as it seeped underneath the tongue and into his socks, spilling more. As he sat there inwardly cursing, the door swung open and he heard Beth scream, “Roger. Stop. Get off me! Mmmm—” To his shock, he saw his best friend forcing a kiss on Beth, who was obviously trying to squirm away from him.

He set the coffee down on the counter, and rushed over to disengage Roger from Beth.

“Come on, Beth, don’t you want me, too?” Roger said.

Chad put one hand on his collar, and with the other, he grabbed the waist of his friend’s pants, jerking him to his feet.

Roger rounded on him, eyes blazing. He pushed Chad hard in the chest, which caused him to stumble backward a few feet. “Come on, you want a piece of me, Chad?”

Beth had fallen off the couch and was getting to her feet. She took in Chad’s tight jaw and his eyes, which were shooting fire. But seeming to understand his friend was drunk, he put up his hands and took a deliberate step backward.

“Come on, Mr. Big Shot Rock Star, take your best shot!” Roger swayed on his feet, fist clenched and raised. “No? I’m disappoint—”

He turned slightly as if to leave, then swung around and punched Chad right on the chin, snapping his head back. All three of them froze for a second in disbelief. Then, he ran at Chad and tackled him in the midsection, ramming him up against the counter, sending hot coffee flying everywhere. He pushed away and took another swing at him. Chad was able to dodge it, but he came to an end of his patience. He pushed Roger full-force against the opposite counter, scattering everything in close proximity.

“Chad! Chad! Stop! He’s just drunk. He doesn’t mean it. PETE!”

The two men were fairly equally matched. Chad was taller and had longer arms, but for Roger, being more compact had its advantages, too. What made him even more dangerous was the fact that he was drunk and overwrought.

Strangely, as Roger grappled with his best friend, the scene he walked in on earlier replayed in his mind—the sounds of pleasure he heard right before he opened the door. His wife, his Michelle, in the throes of passion with another man, in the bed they shared all of their married life. With a new fury, he pushed Chad back from the counter and swung with wild abandon, catching him high on the cheekbone.

Beth watched in horror as the two men threw each other around the bus. She was forced to dart out of the way as they came crashing into the wall where she had just been standing. She heard a noise outside and peeked out the window to see Pete and Dante running in their direction.
They must have heard me.
She turned back around just as Chad pulled back his arm to punch Roger. His elbow hit her hard, just below the nose. The blow sent her reeling backward, until she hit the back of the couch. She slid down to the floor, a hand automatically going to her face. She cried out in pain just as Pete and Dante charged in the door.

Chad and Roger quit struggling as they realized what happened to Beth. They released their hold on each other. “Oh, God, Beth. I’m so sorry—” Chad started to say.

“Get away from her, Chad! Haven’t you done enough?” Pete yelled at him as the two bodyguards helped her to her feet.

“It was an accident—” she started to explain, but Pete would have none of it.

“Yeah, well ‘accidents’ seem to happen a lot around Chad! It’s high time you and I had a talk. Come with me.”

Alarmed and infuriated, Chad took a couple of steps toward Pete. “Let go of her! She doesn’t have to go with you.” He really looked at Beth for the first time and saw where a cut was opened right at the base of her nose, a larger area already swelling.

Pete released Beth’s arm and stepped toward Chad until they were merely a foot apart, the singer still breathing hard from his fight with Roger. “I’ve had it with you, Chad! You’re just a punk! You want to go a few rounds with me, I’ll be happy to oblige you.” The older man whipped off his jacket in order to free his arms up better.

Chad put his fists up, one of which was bleeding from a jagged cut he received from broken glass on the counter. The blood ran down his forearm.

“CHAD!” Beth cried in near hysterics. “Stop this! I’m going with Pete. Come on, Pete.” She was crying. “Please!”

Pete looked from her, back to Chad for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he turned and picked up his jacket from where he threw it on the couch. He spun back as if having second thoughts and stepped up until he was inches from Chad’s face. “You’re just lucky she’s here right now,” he hissed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Pete, please!”

“Okay, Beth. Have it your way.” He snatched her bags off the couch and led her out the door. Dante took the chance to grab Roger’s arm and pull him along, too. “You’re coming with us.”

The door slammed shut behind them, and Chad stood alone in the bus. The only sound was the water running into the sink unchecked from the faucet, which was turned on in the ruckus. Without a transition from a bus full of bodies being flung around and shouting, to complete quiet and stillness, his brain seemed stuck in gear. He sat for ten minutes in the same position, staring at the door and wondering how he managed to lose both his best friend and his girl at the same time. Slowly, he moved over to the sink and stuck his cut hand under the running water.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pete’s days in the military as a drill sergeant took hold of him. He hustled Beth down the stairs of the bus. David and Stan were striding toward them.

“What happened?” David called out. “Beth, are you all right?”

Pete continued to hurry her in the direction of a white Cadillac sedan parked alongside the buses without saying anything in response.

“I’m fine,” Beth called, looking over her shoulder at David.

Pete turned. “Give me your keys, Stan,” he commanded.

“My keys?”

“Your keys. Throw them to me.”

Stan hurriedly fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Pete. He caught them in midair. He opened the passenger door for Beth. Once the door was closed, he told Stan, “I’ll be back in about an hour.” Without any further explanation to anyone, he got in, started the car’s engine, and took off.

***
              

For several miles, they drove in silence, welcomed silence after the commotion of minutes before. Pete contemplated how best to impart the information to Beth he had to tell her, and Beth thought about Chad and the cut on his hand, still in shock.

“Beth, I know you are not
gonna want to hear what I have to say…and as much as I hate to say it, you need to hear it. I know you’re enamored of Chad—why, I can’t fathom.” He couldn’t help but add, “But Chad is trouble. Trouble with a capital ‘T’. In the relatively few years I have known him, he’s gotten into at least a couple dozen fights, probably much more than that, but no one was exactly keeping a tally sheet.”

Pete maneuvered deftly through traffic as he continued. “I thought, maybe, when you came around, things would be different. He would change. But he didn’t and he never will.” The bodyguard glanced over to gauge her reaction to his words. She stared straight ahead. He almost couldn’t bring himself to bring the next blow, but knowing it was the only way, he forged on.

“But that’s not all. Did he tell you he had a DUI?” Her head spun in his direction. “I didn’t think so. He was a drunk driver. Fortunately, he only hit a brick wall when he crashed, but it just as easily could have been your husband.” He left her with that thought, remaining silent.

When he turned onto the highway, Beth spoke up. “Pete, where are you taking me? My flight leaves in just a few hours.”