Chapter Forty One

Jon and Richie said goodbye just an hour or so after Jon had arrived. He’d done what he came here to do. He’d apologised to his friend, had made peace as best he could, and it was time for him to go see Dorothea. Time to find out if they still had ‘it’. For now, he’d leave the rest of the band. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d get in touch with the others. But right now he needed Dorothea. Needed to know.

As he left, Richie clapped a big hand onto his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

“I’ll see ya later, bro.” He said, the next words muttered in that kind of self-conscious way guys always seemed to use for things they didn’t want to mention. “And if you get to feeling…….y’know…..you know where I am, right?”

“Yeah.” Jon grinned at him, grateful to have Richie’s support again. “I know. Thanks, Rich.”

He’d called for another cab, and it was waiting impatiently at the curb, so he just nodded once more to Richie and headed down the steps, out to the cab, carrying the black saddlebag.

Throwing himself into the backseat, Jon gave the driver the address for his apartment. Hoping like hell to find Dorothea there. He didn’t like to think of the implications if she’d moved out. During the trip, he rehearsed what he’d say to her - assuming she was there. How he’d explain himself, explain how he felt like he was ‘back’. Of course, he wouldn’t go into too many details of just how he’d been helped back. Some things, well, even he had the common sense to keep to himself. One of those things was the fact that another woman had brought him to his senses. In more ways than one.

The cab pulled to a halt outside the address, and Jon paid off the driver, climbing out and only now realising that Dot had better be there - because he didn’t even have a key to his own door. The keys to the Malibu house were buried at the bottom of his saddlebag, but nothing for this apartment. Luckily, the guy working the door recognised him - long, unruly hair, ripped jeans and all - and opened the door politely.

“Mr Bongiovi. Welcome back.”

“Thanks…….” Jon stepped inside, his memory serving him well now. “You look good, Danny. How’s the family?”

“They’re good, thanks, sir.” The doorman smiled. “Should I call upstairs? Let Miss Hurley know you’re on your way up?”

“Naw. I’ll surprise her.” Jon grinned, relief washing through him at the confirmation Dot was actually here.

With a final nod to the doorman, he headed to the stairs. He may be feeling a whole lot better, but he wasn’t about to chance his luck in the elevator just yet. The exercise he’d been getting at Billie’s - the riding and the ranch chores - had kept him fit, and he took the flights almost at a run, desperate to see Dorothea now he knew she was so close.

Emerging onto his floor, Jon caught his breath on the short walk along the hallway, saddlebags still in his hand as he knocked on his own door. He heard a voice inside, approaching the door, and a sudden terror hit him. A fear that another guy would open the door. A fear that, while he’d been with Billie, someone else had been with Dorothea. It wasn’t a completely irrational thought - Dorothea was a beautiful girl - but even right now Jon realised how hypocritical it was. Okay for him to fuck around, but not for her? He just hoped he was wrong, because if a guy opened that door he wasn’t entirely sure whether it’d break his heart or he’d just beat the shit out of him.

He heard the click of the lock, the voice continuing, though he could now tell it was Dot’s voice. He just didn’t know who she was talking to. Moments later, he got his answer, as she pulled the door open, holding the cordless phone to her ear, her voice drying up as she saw who was standing there.

Jon grinned at her, a tiny worry in his eyes, and Dot’s eyes scoured his face, seeing the relaxation and the glow of happiness in him again.

“Mom…..I’ll call you back…….” She didn’t even wait for a response, just clicked the button on the phone, still gazing at him. “Jonny.”

“Dot.” He breathed, grinning.

She took a step back, inviting him in, and Jon stepped forward, ready to begin his planned speech, but he stepped into the scent of her perfume and his words came out as a groan.

“Dot.” He said again, reaching for her, and as he tossed the saddlebag to the floor Dot dropped the phone, grabbing at him.

The door still lay open as he pushed her against the wall, kissing her hungrily, Dot whimpering and pulling him closer, then she pulled back a fraction.

“Door.” She mumbled against his lips, and Jon flicked a glance to the side, swinging his hand to slam the door.

Kissing her again, he shifted his grip, picking her up in his arms and heading to the bedroom.


That evening, over pizza and beer, they finally got around to talking, their bodies exhausted for now. Speaking earnestly, Jon told Dorothea he’d been to see Richie, and that they’d made a good start on getting their friendship back on track. Looking deep into her eyes, he asked quietly if they could get back on track, too. Dot didn’t even hesitate, just reached across the table to take his hand.

“Of course we can.” She whispered.

There was no need for him to know that she’d sought comfort in another man’s arms - another man’s bed - while he’d been gone. He’d come back to her. That was all that mattered. At her words, that true Jonny grin spread across his face, his eyes dancing again.

“Whaddya say we go…….seal the deal…..?” He smirked, standing and lifting her from her chair, pulling her toward the bedroom once more.

Giggling, Dot went with him.


Months had now passed. Months where Jon had written and recorded a solo record - a soundtrack to Emilio’s Young Guns movie, since ‘Wanted’ just didn’t fit the story - and Richie had penned his own solo album, Undiscovered Soul, though it was yet to be released. Jon had met each of the band members individually, apologising to them and asking each if they still wanted to work with him. To a man, they’d said yes, though Tico had given him serious shit about his attitude. Jon had even gone to the extent of contacting a mediator, having the guy sit down with all of them together to work out their differences, but mostly it was just his obvious remorse that won them over. They’d agreed to go their separate ways for a bit, hence the solo projects, but the band that never quit looked like going on for a bit longer.

Tonight, Jon was nervous. His song, Blaze of Glory, had been nominated for an Academy Award, and he was sitting in the crowd at the ceremony, wishing that he had Richie’s presence to reassure him. As it was, his parents were there, though Dot was stuck back in Jersey, a severe flu keeping her in bed. And keeping him out of her bed, since she refused to let him get sick when the awards ceremony was looming. Knowing that the cameras were circling, showing random crowd shots during each award, Jon kept smiling, kept the boredom from showing, applauding for each winner as they were announced.


In Kansas, Billie was tucked up in her bed with the TV on, as she’d been doing for some time now - barely able to summon the energy to deal with Drummer most days, but forcing herself to get on with it. Carrie had tried to get her to come out tonight, but Billie reminded her of her usual ‘family’ tradition, and Carrie let it go. Which was why Billie was lying back with a bowl of popcorn and a diet coke, watching the Oscars ceremony as she always had. Even when she was very young, her parents always let her stay up late to watch this one thing, and they always made their own little party of it, with popcorn and snacks and way too much sugar.

Her attention was only half on the screen tonight, though, as the ache in her back was distracting her, Deke lying on the bed next to her with his chin on her thigh. She shifted on the bed, making herself more comfortable, her eyes on the screen again as they announced the next award, for best original song. The cameras flicked to each nominee in turn after a video portion of their song, showing Stephen Sondheim for his Dick Tracy hit, then showing a long-haired guy in tight leather pants, the backview reminding her of the man who’d been in her life for a short time, making her smile sadly.

“….and for Blaze of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi……” Came the announcer’s voice, and the camera switched to a shot of a very familiar face.

“What the fuck?!” Billie jolted upright, popcorn flying across the bed, startling Deke as she stared at the screen in disbelief. “Jon?”

Almost as though he heard her say his name, the impossibly blue eyes turned to the camera, and the grin he gave confirmed beyond doubt that, yes, the cute guy she’d had staying at her ranch was, in fact, not a simple biker, but something altogether different.