13. Ajay
ajay
. . .
T he words “ Ajay and I are still married ” keep replaying over in my head as I’m driven back to jail. Leave it to Whiskey to smart off to the judge and leave it to Harvey to be a major piece of shit by having me locked up again. As soon as the cell door slams shut, I can hear Pate laughing. I’d really like to take one of my drumsticks and put it where… no, my drumsticks are too good for the likes of him.
The cell door opens, and Whiskey is pushed inside. I’m stunned by her presence. The bailiff looks at the both of us and says, “Harvey thinks you two need to spend some time together and get your story straight.” He shuts the door, leaving us in the cell together.
I don’t ask if she’s okay or what the hell she’s doing, lying on the stand like that. I do feel like confronting her, telling her that she needs to tell the damn truth so I can get back to my job. But I don’t. Instead, I sit down on the edge of the cot and rest my elbows on my knees. I’ve worked so hard to keep a clean image, this is surely going to get my ass booted from the band. And once that happens, I’ll have nothing.
Whiskey sits across from me and cries softly. It’s a ploy. I know her. She’s not crying because she’s hurt, it’s because someone with authority has pissed her off and she didn’t see it coming. My girl was — and still is by the looks of it — a con artist. I’m not falling for it though.
Whiskey stands and goes to the bars. Of all the times we broke the law, I never imagined us locked up together. Yet, here we are, and for what? Harvey has such a bone to pick with me, her, and apparently us, that he has no qualms about putting us in here when the information he needs is probably right in front of his face.
“Pate,” Whiskey yells, “turn your damn television down, I can’t think!”
“Shut up, Jamie. You ain’t the boss of me.”
“Asshole,” she mutters as she sits across from me again. “You’re quiet.”
I shake my head slightly. “Not much to say.”
“You don’t have anything to say to me? No questions? Nothing?”
“No, I do, but I’m not sure I can find the words until my temper cools down.”
“Fair enough,” she says.
“Actually, I do have something to say.” When I look at her, I want to tell her that I love her, that I always have and have wished for years that things hadn’t ended between us, but they did, and at the time I thought it was for the best. I remember the nights when we were apart and I needed her, when all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her because feeling her pressed against my body made the world seem fair. And then I remember the night she showed up in Nashville and how I was hurting her and remind myself I made the right decision, even if it’s something I’ve regretted every day since.
“Go ahead then.”
I sit up straight, pressing my back to the wall. “Why can’t you just tell the truth, Whiskey? Why did you have to lie about us being married?”
“Who says I’m lying?”
Why does she want to play these stupid games? “Whiskey, you’re messing with our lives here. I could be on my way to wherever the hell I’m supposed to be by now if you would just tell Harvey that it was you who vandalized his house. And, while you’re at it, tell him that maybe he shouldn’t be such a dick to the next group of kids that do the same thing.”
“Is that what you want? To get out of here so you can carry on with your life?”
“I have obligations.”
“Right, most of us do. It’s called being an adult.”
My eyes cut to hers. “And you’re acting like a child, Whiskey. Harvey is going to figure out you’re lying, he’s going to think I put you up to it, and we’re both going to become Bubba’s bitch in jail.”
She laughs, but there’s nothing funny about the situation. I stand and go over to the wall. There’s a small window at the top and I can just about see a glimpse of the sky. It’s bright blue with no clouds. A perfect day in my opinion.
“What if I told you we’re still married?”
I sigh. “I signed the papers, just like you asked. You were there; you watched me do it.”
She stands again and moves to the opposite end of the cell. The space between us is small, but it feels like miles apart. Only God knows how much I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. The slap in the face that would follow would be worth it just to feel her lips pressed against mine one last time.
“I never signed the papers and I didn’t file them.”
Her voice is small, nothing like the strong, confident woman I know.
“What?” I ask. Her back is facing me and I’m waiting for her to turn around. “Whiskey, what did you say?” She turns slowly and looks at me. I’ve seen this before. It’s the face she makes before she breaks down and cries. “Jamie?”
She smiles sadly. “The other night after I saw you, I pulled out a box of our stuff. I found your diploma, by the way, and if I had my purse, I’d give it to you. I thought that maybe you’d want that.”
“Thanks.”
She nods. “Anyway, there they were, at the bottom of my memories, folded up nice and neat. The only thing was, they were the originals, not the stamped copy you get back from the clerk after you file them… and lo and behold my signature was missing from them.”
“Is that what you were doing earlier when I saw you?”
“Yeah.”
“But you were crying. Why?”
“Because I’m stupid. Because life sucks sometimes. Because my dad can be a total jerk and as much as I hate you, you don’t deserve this.”
Hearing her say she hates me makes my knees wobble. I grab hold of the metal bed railing and ease myself onto the bed. Deep down I knew she did but hearing her say as much is like a punch in my gut.
“You should hate me, Whiskey. What I did to you, to us… I have never forgiven myself.”
Whiskey sits down across from me and relaxes against the wall. “We were young, stupid?—”
“And in love,” I finish her sentence for her.
“I was going to say na?ve, but I suppose ‘in love’ works as well.”
“I was na?ve about life, still am sometimes, but I know without a doubt I was in love with you.”
She repeats the word “was” quietly to herself. What she doesn’t know is that I’d profess my love to her without any hesitation if I thought it would mean anything to her. But I know it wouldn’t be fair to her, she has a life and I don’t plan to interrupt that for her.
“So,” she says, rubbing her hands down the front of her legs. “Speaking of life, how goes it?”
Nice change of subject, I’ll give her that and appease her request. “Life’s good.”
“Yeah, big time drummer in a fancy band.”
I smirk. “Band is anything but fancy and I’m just the drummer.”
“Not according to Dhara. She says you’re on tour with the man of her dreams, 4 something. I honestly don’t pay attention when she starts talking about music.”
“4225 West is who we’re on tour with. Their drummer is one of our lead singer’s dads.” She looks at me oddly and I shrug. “Made better sense in my head.” I look away, unable to keep my eyes on her out of fear that I’ll end up sitting next to her, begging her to give me another chance.
“I’m sorry, Ajay.”
“For what?”
“For messing up your life like this. Your girlfriend, who, by the way, is hot… and I’m totally jealous of her tits… looked pretty pissed off when I blurted out that we’re still married. I suppose I’m screwing something up there as well. I’m going to tell Harvey that we need the decree signed off on right away so you can get on with your life. I’m sure the date is coming up soon.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask her once she’s done rambling.
“Your wedding.”
“What wedding? Who told you I was getting married?” I know exactly what she’s doing, and I have no intentions of stopping her. I like when she’s like this, flustered and digging for information without being bold enough to ask me outright.
“I saw her ring. It’s gorgeous.”
I look at her hand and see nothing, not even a tan line. I shouldn’t care, but I do. She’s right about Elle’s ring though. It’s big and flashy, and it makes me wonder if Whiskey thinks that could’ve been hers if we had stayed together. Thing is though, right now I can’t even afford that. With Sinful Distraction just starting, funds are still mediocre, but Elle promises us that things will get better. Our sales are increasing every day and royalties are starting to come in. I’m hoping that I can move out of Quinn’s house soon and into my own place. It’s not that I mind sharing with him and Nola, it’s that I want to finally have something that’s mine. Something I’ve paid for myself, with my own money. I’ve never owned my own anything. Even the car I drive is leased.
“She comes from money,” I say with a shrug, letting her believe whatever her mind spins up. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to since I walked out on you?”
Her eyes jump to mine but quickly turn away. I own what I did. I had no right leaving her like that, not after everything she had done for me. I think in my head, I planned to go back, but after seeing the ugly side of the industry, I knew I didn’t want her to experience what I was experiencing.
“I work a lot.”
“Boyfriend?” As much as I don’t want to know, I have to ask.
“Yes, sort of.”
“Is it one of those ‘we’re in a relationship’ type of things where you both pretend you don’t know what you want?”
“When did you become an expert on relationships?”
I shrug. “Since I joined the band and have to listen to mushy love songs. Answer the question, Whiskey.”
“No,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He’s a Marine and is busy. It’s not serious in the sense that we’re moving in with each other or planning a life. We have fun. We see each other on the weekends if he’s free.”
“Whiskey girl, are you afraid of commitment?”
She mocks me. “Clearly after the number you did on me.”
“Touché.”
“Way to dodge my question about the wedding.”
I shrug. “Talking about you is more fun. I missed this,” I point back and forth between us. “We always had good banter but amazing?—”
“Don’t you dare say it, Ajay.” She gives me a stern look. She’s right. Some things should stay in the past and this is the last place where I should recount our many sexual encounters and experiences, although going through them with her would be a nice trip down memory lane.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
“Don’t know.”
Whiskey throws her hands up in the air. “You’re a lot of things, Ajay, but I never took you for the guy who leaves all the planning up to someone else.”
I love this game of back and forth we’re playing and so I decide to up the stakes. I stand and go over to the cot she’s sitting on and take the spot next to her. Our arms and thighs are touching, and it feels like I’m being electrocuted from the energy moving between us. Fuck, how I missed how she used to make me feel so alive. She’s my muse and there will never be anyone else like her.
“I don’t know because we’re not getting married. The woman who you are jealous of,” I purposely leave out the part about Elle’s boobs because one, she’s my boss, and two, I much prefer Whiskey’s over anyone else’s, “is the manager of my band, Sinful Distraction. The couple you saw with her are her parents. Her father is my mentor and drummer of the band Dhara likes. Her mother,” I pause again to gain some composure. “She’s been like a mom to me this past year.”
“She has?” Whiskey’s voice breaks.
“For the first time ever, I had a Christmas with a stocking and presents under the tree.”
“And that brunette is your boss?”
I nod. “Your dad thought the same thing and I didn’t correct him because it was better that you thought I had moved on. The notion backfired, however, when you dropped the bomb that we’re still married.”
Because I’m not sure I’m willing to give that up.