Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
Tatum
The six-hour drive to Tallahassee felt like it lasted a freaking lifetime. Otis drank, Toby smoked, Calix skulked, and Harvey tried his best to get a rise out of all of them.
A couple of hours in, I excused myself to call Ma and check in on how the nurse was working out.
The fatigue in her voice scared the hell out of me, but when I asked if she was caring for herself, she told me I was fussing needlessly and changed the conversation.
I couldn’t wait until we stopped in Minnesota so I could see her.
Make sure they were both all right. My bullshit meter was screaming at me, but Ma wasn’t the kind of woman you called out without proof.
As I ended the call, Toby wandered in and draped himself over my lap, falling quickly into a deep sleep without a word.
How was it that of all the men, my relationship with this broken soul felt the least complicated? He seemed to crave physical contact, taking the opportunity to hug or hold me any chance he got, regardless of his level of intoxication.
I opened the boys’ social media page and began responding to comments, deleting anything inflammatory, and just reading the vibes of fans as I stroked Toby’s hair back off his face.
A lot of the comments were the standard “I love you” from the innocent through to the downright filthy offers. Those I deleted so the social media gods wouldn’t ban our page.
How long could I keep these guys’ attention when @SallyMILF2003 was offering to let them run a train on her ass in the middle of a set?
Toby mumbled in his sleep, rubbing his cheek against my leg before he settled under my stroking hand. How many people had taken advantage of him when he was in this state?
I was a firm believer in enthusiastic consent—my games with Calix being an exception because I truly believed he would stop if I told him no—and that wasn’t something you could give when you were substance effected 24/7.
“I wish I knew how to help you,” I told him, carding my fingers through his disheveled locks.
His hair was longer than he usually wore it, and I wondered if I should offer to cut it or organize a barber to visit. Otis would know, but he wasn’t in the most helpful mind frame.
Speak of the devil.
The door slid open and my most recent trouble-maker stumbled toward the bed.
“What’s going on in here?” His voice slurred, and I cringed as he stumbled over the corner of the bed.
“Nothing much. We’re just resting. Do you want to lie down with us?” I asked, eager to see him sleep for a handful of hours while we had the chance.
“You don’t want me here. Why are you asking that?” His brow was furrowed, his beautiful blonde curls flattened against his head.
“Of course I want you here. I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise. Come on, lie down with us. Give me the bottle.”
He cradled the bottle to his chest like a prize. Like his only link to sanity, but he edged slightly closer to the bed with a watered-down version of hope in his eyes.
“Come on, lie with us and tell me why you would ever think I don’t want you. You’re part of us, Otis.”
Toby snorted in his sleep, and I resumed stroking his hair as Otis, at last, crawled onto the mattress and relinquished the booze.
“I don’t know why you’ve done this to yourself, but I’m sorry for whatever part I’ve played in it,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he cuddled in on my other side.
“Not you. Not just you. No one wants me. I’m alone forever now,” he muttered, sleep and alcohol making his words slow and difficult to understand. Within a few minutes, both men were fast asleep, and I had nothing to do but go back to scrolling.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the bus was leaning into a turn, the sound of tires on the road quieting as it reduced speed. The bed was cold where Tobias had lain, but on my other side, Otis was starting to stir. As I shifted, pain lanced through my lower belly.
No. It can’t be time. Mentally, I ran through what tablet I’d taken for my contraceptive that morning. Sugar pill. Damn it.
Today was going to suck.
Instead of dealing with my asshole of a body, I resolutely turned my attention to the man beside me.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, brushing a hand over his hair.
He groaned, burying his face in the pillows. “Like I’m still drunk.”
“Can I be honest? You smell like hair oil trapped behind the ears of a dreadlocked white girl who thinks her look is ‘self-expression’ and can’t even spell ‘cultural appropriation’.”
One bright blue eye blinked up at me from the pile of covers.
“That was oddly specific.”
Maybe, but it didn’t make it any less true, and as much as I enjoyed his company, a shower would help him sober up a bit before we arrived. I crawled off the mattress, ignoring the increasingly violent cramps, and stood at the end of the bed with my hands on my hips.
“There are two things needed in civilized society. Daily showering and deodorant that is effective enough for the job. You, my friend, are in dire need of both.”
Otis huffed a laugh that turned into a rattling cough. Shit, was he getting sick? I made a mental note to talk to Ruby about medical contacts in the area. Her grandparents lived nearby, so surely she’d know someone.
“Fair enough. Okay, let’s do this.” His first attempt at getting upright wasn’t ideal, but after a short rest, he managed to find his feet and stumble out the door.
“I’ll bring you some fresh clothes,” I offered, already heading toward the stowage he kept his belongings in. I stopped briefly at my own and retrieved a tampon to insert in the restroom after Otis was sorted.
By the time we crossed the border into Florida, I was sweating. Curled up on the bed, I tried to compress my lower belly as much as possible to contain the pain.
“Tatum?” Harvey’s voice was hesitant.
I whimpered as the effort of looking at him sent another jolt of pain through my lower back and belly.
Fuck being a woman. This was cruel and unusual punishment.
I originally went on contraception to try to skip my periods because the cramping could be debilitating—especially at times of excessive stress—but my body just laughed, gave me the finger, and bled straight through all while whistling “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC and turning my muscles to stone.
A moment later, Otis leaned over me, his hair curled into dripping wet ringlets that I’d want to touch at any other time.
“Hey, what’s going on? Do you need a doctor?” he asked, placing a hand on my back.
I flinched, my skin too sensitive for touch, and he backed away from the bed like I’d struck him.
“Go get Calix,” Otis ordered Harvey, who hadn’t come past the door frame.
I’m fine. The words sat on the tip of my tongue, completely untrue, but it didn’t matter; I couldn’t seem to get them out, anyway.
The moody asshole himself made an appearance as the next wave of cramping stole my breath and twisted my back. I must have looked possessed with the way Harvey backed a little farther into the hallway.
“What’s wrong with her?” Calix asked, taking in Otis’s shrug at a glance and dropping onto the bed.
I whimpered as the movement jostled me, and his brow creased at the sound.
“Where are you hurt?”
I curled into myself tighter, praying they would leave me alone to my misery.
“She didn’t want to be touched,” Otis piped in as Calix lifted a hand toward me.
He paused, indecision written all over his face. He hated not knowing what was happening, but he wasn’t a big enough hypocrite to violate a boundary he himself insisted on.
“I’ll call a doctor,” he decided, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
I caught his wrist, shaking my head. No way was I sitting through an examination just to hear how it was completely normal for a woman on her period.
“Ruby, then,” he offered, watching me closely.
Ruby was a good option. She knew how bad I could get, and she’d hand them their asses for not leaving me alone. Bonus.
At my nod, Calix wandered out to make the call.
As another wave of pain hit, Harvey and Otis hovered at the edge of the bed, sharing quick glances in between their pacing and fidgeting.
I appreciated the concern but was also ready to throw something at them to make them go away.
I wasn’t a fucking carnival sideshow, and I’d tell them just that as soon as I could catch my breath.
“Ruby said it’s period pain.” Calix strode through the door with a glass of water and a fist full of painkillers.
I took back every bad thing I’d ever said about him.
Not really, the fucker deserved it, but I’d happily swallow whatever he offered to take the edge off the cramping.
“Is that all she said?” Otis asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair like it would make his brain work faster.
“Her exact words were: ‘her uterus is an asshole that rips her in half once a month. Nut the fuck up and treat her like the queen she is, or I’ll fly out there and show you how a real partner looks after the woman they’re fucking.’”
I huffed a laugh that turned into a groan as the uterus in question decided to tighten its grip on my spine.
“Does she need something stronger?” Toby asked from his position just outside the door.
“I don’t want you using that shit. You really think I’d be okay with you dosing her with whatever Lainey is dealing these days? Use your fucking head, Tobias.”
The room was quiet in the wake of his outburst, but Calix didn’t seem to notice as he helped me take the medication.
“He was just trying to help,” I murmured as the cramping passed.
He didn’t acknowledge me at all as he sent Harvey to prepare a heat pack and helped me under the covers.
“Sleep. We’re almost at the venue, so if you need anything, text me. If I can’t come, I’ll make sure there is someone who can.”
Who would have thought Calix could be so nurturing?
No part of me believed this version of him would last, but as my energy flagged from the pain, I appreciated the temporary ceasefire.
Tomorrow, I’d fight him again, but I had to admit that for today, he was right. I needed sleep.