Chapter 10 #2
“I’m not expecting you to produce her. If it were a bit back, then I’d have come straight here, and no doubt laid my hands right on her.” He stared pointedly at Xane, provoking the prince of darkness into sucking on his eyeteeth.
“You say that like I shagged anything that moved.”
“Pretty much did,” Troll-guy muttered, before squeezing his way back into the driver’s bay.
“Shut it,” Xane snarled at his back. “Ash was just as bad.”
Ash refuted this with a shake of his head. “I only slummed with half the population, you were there a hundred per cent, and before you argue, I’m sure Spook will be happy to confirm exact numbers.”
“Not completely exact,” Spook said.
Having evidently decided his duty was done, Graham about turned and left the bus. The guys all watched his descent down the stairs. The moment the door closed behind him they all started yelling at once.
Jodi jammed her hands over her ears, but it didn’t block anything out.
“Are you fucking kidding me? We have to go on the road with those bastards…”
“We’ve barely exchanged hellos, and you’ve already fucked it up…”
“His fiancée. His fucking fiancée…”
“We can get a different support act.”
“No, we fucking can’t, Paul.” Xane got right up in his face. “Leastways, not without a heap of aggro and a massive financial hit, and let’s not talk about what it’ll look like from a PR perspective.”
“I’m not sure anyone is going to lose sleep over the visuals, Xane.” Mrs Ash dropped to her feet and got in between the two guys. “Rockstars swapping women… That’s routine any day of the week.”
Jodi felt their eyes again. Rock Giant tucked her neatly behind his body.
Mrs Ash patted him on the chest. “You’ve really stolen their frontman’s fiancée?”
“Married their frontman’s fiancée,” her husband corrected her.
“Couldn’t you have made do with a fucking shag?” Xane asked.
“Handfasted,” Spook amended.
The sheer number of voices and opinions here was going to make her head explode. Allowing him to bring her here had been a mistake. She’d known it would be a mistake, but she’d gone along with it because it meant she didn’t have to face Nash quite so soon.
“It’s not legally binding,” she said again, but as before no one was listening. Or maybe they were; Mrs Ash stepped around Paul to look at her, her friendly smile scrunched into a moue. She reached out and clasped Jodi’s hand that wasn’t being squeezed by Paul’s increasingly sweaty palm.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. If we were talking about any other fool, then that might wash, but you’ve tied yourself to Rock Giant here, who I guarantee doesn’t give a shit whether your vows come with legal documentation.
You’re his, and he’s yours. He swore it in the middle of some standing stones, right?
In a ceremony that dates back to the dark ages. ”
“Damn right,” Paul confirmed.
“No,” Jodi whined. “Paul, I’m engaged to be married.”
“And I told you, that’s okay.”
Evidently, what he’d meant by that okay was not what she’d taken it to mean.
What she now suspected it meant was he was okay with being part of a polycule.
She, on the other hand, was not, and nor would Nash be.
How had she fucked up this badly? This was way worse than when she’d accidentally managed to kidnap him, and he’d refused to let her escape.
Paul Reed seemed to delight in holding her to account for her actions.
Although, in this case, she barely remembered what she’d done, let alone what vows she’d sworn to him.
Evidently not fidelity, or to be his obedient housemaid.
She guessed that was something. Indeed, what the hell had he sworn?
A lot more than she had, she suspected. From the conversation still raging around her, it was becoming increasingly apparent that in his eyes, a handfasting was a very serious matter.
The very fact that it was steeped in tradition that spanned centuries made it more binding than any legitimate marriage.
He was still proudly wearing two of the trinity ribbons around his wrist. The third, still around her own, was creased and frayed and dotted with tooth marks.
She irritably shook off his hold on her hand, determined, now more than ever, to take it off.
Of course, doing so wouldn’t mean anything, but…
“Here, let me help. I’m Ginny, by the way.” Mrs Ash offered her some scissors from the kitchen drawer. She slapped her hand against Paul’s chest and bared her teeth when Rock Giant made protesting noises. “You need to give her some breathing space, Paul.”
“She’s right,” the red-haired woman agreed. “It’s just a ribbon. It’s symbolic, not the be all and end all. Neither of you are going to be wearing them forever. It’s like you’ve been saying: it’s what you put out into the universe that matters.”
The mention of forever was apparently the tipping point because Jodi burst into tears.
“What do you say us girls go somewhere quiet and give the guys some space to finish yelling at one another?”
Jodi allowed herself to be led. She wasn’t as nimble or thin as the woman leading her and hence couldn’t glide between various bodies with quite the same degree of grace, but the guys were incredibly obliging about making space, all except llama pyjama boy who stumbled over his own feet and then into her, before Luthor physically picked him up and moved him out of the way.
Beyond the kitchen sat a bunk room, and beyond that a bedroom with a double bed. Ginny pulled her down onto its end.
“It’s freshly made. I just made it.” Indeed, the laundry sat bundled up in the corner. “Want to tell me what happened?”
She slumped onto the mattress and wrapped her arms around her head.
“Fucked my life up, that’s what. Don’t do drugs.
Dumb shit happens when you do drugs.” She’d heard that mantra way back as far as primary school; too bad she hadn’t fucking heeded the goddamned message.
Why the hell had she eaten those ’shrooms?
Because he stood you up, whispered the imp on her shoulder. You were there, and he wasn’t.
He hadn’t merely stood her up. He’d stood her up again!
So sure, she was the self-sabotage queen, but Nash was at least a little to blame. All he had to do was be where he’d said he’d be at the right time. For fuck’s sake, it’d been his sodding idea.
“What do you want to do?” Ginny asked kindly.
Jodi wasn’t usually a crier. Her sobs hadn’t turned into a torrent, but they were catching in her throat making it difficult to get her words out.
What did she want? How about a do over? One where she endured some shitty music instead of tangoing with fate.
She should have gone to watch the DOOOOOM!
band with Nash and the others. That way, the only problem she’d be dealing with this morning was perforated eardrums.
Ginny provided a tissue, and after she’d sniffled into it a bit, Jodi dried her eyes and shook herself off. “I need to go speak to Nash.”
“Dark hair, short? I met him yesterday,” Ginny said, when she nodded. “Seemed like a reasonable human being.”
“Yeah, he is.” Having shredded the tissue over her lap, she moved on to, “I don’t know what he’s going to make of this, though. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to tell him.”
“Stick to the facts.”
The facts sounded like a particularly unfunny joke. Hey honey, I got cabbaged last night on ’shrooms and accidentally exchanged vows with the bass player of the band you’re ridiculously excited about supporting over the next eight months, but it’s okay, he’s happy to be part of a polycule.
A hysterical laugh escaped her throat.
Ginny gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“I keep hoping this is all a hallucination and that I’ll wake up in my tent with a cat’s arse in my face and all will be normal.”
“How did you wake up?”
Jodi groaned. “In a fucking love nest. Though he swears we didn’t… you know… I don’t think we did. Oh, God, but if we did…”
“Pretty sure your pussy would know if it’d been entered by that barbell-enhanced truncheon.”
“True.” She didn’t feel as if she’d taken that sort of ride. Although, why did her inner muscles have to clench in quite such a longing fashion at the mention of his cock?
“I’m so fucking dumb. I can’t believe I’ve manged to screw up this much. It’s record-breaking even for me.”
“I think you’re being hard on yourself—”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve never done anything this dumb.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Ginny mused.
“Why did he have to walk back into my life now, rather than all the fucking times I wished he would?”
“Wait up,” Ginny raised her hands. “I figured you’d just met. You were already acquainted?”
Jodi sucked a breath through her teeth realising her mistake. She’d predominantly been talking to herself. “I guess,” she admitted. “I mean, barely. We met once, years ago, and haven’t kept in contact.”
“Right…” The way Ginny drawled the word implied she got the picture. One-night stand from the past… “But he remembered you?”
“I guess. Yeah.”
“And you obviously remembered him.” Ginny was beaming now.
“He’s pretty hard to forget. But look, it wasn’t like you’re thinking. It wasn’t a hookup, even though, I guess we did. That was kind of a side quest.” She raised her shoulders. “It was a bit of a wild night, actually.”
“Adventures are what Paul does best.”
An adventure… Yeah, it had been that. Sailing down that river on the boat coat he’d claimed to have invented.
Losing his phone overboard, rescuing her kittens, then afterwards, their impromptu campfire, and him singing to her in his low gravelly voice while playing an accompaniment on two teaspoons.
A grin tugged at her cheeks over the memories.
And, yeah, her astride him and his Prince Albert piercing hitting her in all the right spots was part of what made it memorable.
“Happy memories,” Ginny observed, one eyebrow quirked.
That instantly sobered Jodi. They were happy memories.
Her life had changed completely owing to that night.
It’d given her the impetus to leave home and all its shittiness behind.
To start over, start again, travel, better herself.
And what do you know, things had improved once she’d escaped from the tyranny she’d hardly realised she was living under.
Of course, there’d been one or two low points, but…
But nothing. Dwelling on those things now wouldn’t get her out of the mess she’d currently blundered her way into.
“How do I convince him to forget about this?”
“Not gonna happen,” Ginny said, confirming her own suspicions.
“It has to.”
Ginny gave her another gentle pat. “If it was any other fool…. Let me tell you about Mr Reed. He’s a big softie, despite appearances.
Tenacious. Protective. The champion of anyone or anything he perceives as weaker than himself.
He’s completely laidback, but he’s also hardcore about his beliefs.
They and his ethics are sacrosanct. Violate either at your peril.
Which boils down to this. Last night he swore an oath to you that’s steeped in tradition.
He made it beneath the stars, with the wind as a witness and…
he’s not going to shrug that off and let it go just because it creates difficulties.
Not now, and not in a day or two. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours. ”
“It’s not legally binding,” she tried again, knowing it was futile.
“I can come with you, if that’ll help,” Ginny offered, drawing her thoughts back to the real problem—communicating her fuck up to Nash.
“Not sure that’s…” She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s probably better if I speak to him alone. On which subject, I should really…” They both looked towards the door. Judging by the rumble of voices still coming from the front of the bus, things hadn’t settled any.
“Back door.” Ginny got up and opened a curtain shrouding the back window of the bus. “It’s a sort of fire exit. Reckon you can squeeze through?”
It’d be a wriggle, and it was a much bigger drop than she’d really have liked, but it’d be worth it to avoid walking through the argument raging out there.
Also, if she attempted to exit via the front, then it was ninety-nine per cent certain that Rock Giant would hound her like a shadow, and the last thing she needed while breaking the news of her stupidity to Nash was Rock Giant leering over her shoulder.