They were settled in the back of the big car, sitting close together yet not touching, in a comfortable, comforting way without being overly intimate. Richie reached to the miniature bar, picking up a bottle of water and turning to raise an enquiring eyebrow to Billie.
“Please.” She smiled, and he poured some for her, condensation almost instantly beading on the sides of the glass from the chill of the water inside.
When they each had a glass of water in their hands, Richie looked outside at the pack of press mongrels as the driver eased them from hospital premises. He sighed. Seemed like maybe the hounds weren’t quite ready to let Billie out from their radar. Maybe a restaurant wasn’t such a good plan.
“I know I promised you lunch.” He smiled apologetically. “But I’m starting to think maybe going to a restaurant isn’t such a great plan - they’d be on you between bites.”
“S’okay, Richie.” Billie laid a gentle hand on his knee without even thinking about it until she felt him jerk just a tiny bit at her touch. “I can eat at the hotel, or at Jay’s or somewhere. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I……..” Looking down, he covered her hand with his before looking at her again, the brown eyes as soulful as those of her old dog, Deke. As soulful, and just as hard to resist. “I wanted to spend some time with you. Outwith a hospital room I mean.” A tilt of his head as he thought. “Why don’t you come back to my place? I’m only talking lunch - you don’t need to worry about me………about anything.”
“Richie, the last thing I’d ever worry about with you would be……..unwanted attention.” She blushed prettily, leaving him to wonder if his ‘attention’ would be unwanted at all. But it was way too soon - both emotionally and, for her, physically - for anything like that.
“Do you trust me to cook for you?”
Billie laughed, a free-spirited and open laugh as she grinned at him cheekily. “Richie, I’ve been surviving on hospital food - you can’t be any worse than that!”
“Oh I think I can promise better than hospital food, Billie.” He squeezed her hand lightly, the smile on his face touching his eyes with sparks of fun. “Trust me.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘trust me, I’m a rockstar’?”
“Something like that, yeah!”
Leaning forward, Richie gave the driver his address.
Sitting in the apartment, Jon scrolled through email on his laptop, looking morosely at the various ‘potential’ apartments his realtor had sent details for. He just couldn’t force his brain into making a decision whether to stay here in the city - albeit in a new apartment - or whether to just take his sorry ass back to Jersey. Back where he belonged. He had to admit, though, that the idea of staying the city, where there was at least a chance of sometime running into Dot and her new-old boyfriend…….that made him cringe. She said he didn’t know the guy, but was that true? He knew a lot of people, and if it was someone she’d known so long…… Would he feel better or worse if he did meet the guy and he was ugly as sin? Yeah, that’d be worse. Worse to know his wife hadn’t even traded him in for a ‘better’ model, but had truly fallen out of love with him and moved on.
“This sucks.” He mumbled to the empty apartment.
He reached for his wineglass, only to be surprised when he found it empty. Tilting the bottle over the glass didn’t help, as it was also empty, and he frowned.
“I drank it all already?” He tilted the bottle again, pointlessly, then looked at it consideringly before rolling his eyes. “Drank it all and I’m fucking talking to myself. Shit.”
Pushing up from his chair, Jon carried the empty bottle to the kitchen, laying it on the counter. Laying it on the counter next to another empty wine bottle. Two bottles of wine gone and it was only……….he glanced at his watch, and another frown creased his forehead. Three o’clock in the afternoon and he was two bottles down? Two bottles and he didn’t feel even slightly drunk. And that, he knew from what Richie had gone through, was a serious issue.
“You stupid fucker.” He muttered as he caught his own reflection on the shining steel of the extract hood over the stove.
It was funny. The ‘stupid’ came out in broad ‘Joisey’, sounding more like ‘stoopid’, and somehow that decided him.
“I don’t belong here.” He said aloud, decision made, and he poured himself a mug of the ever-present coffee before returning to his laptop.
A quick email later, his realtor was told to forget looking for an apartment, and then he headed to the bedroom to throw a few things into a bag. He was going home.
Richie and Billie were sitting comfortably on the oversized couches in his living room. They were on separate couches, but still close together as they talked and laughed together. Richie’s culinary skills had been deemed exceptional by Billie, and Richie had accepted the praise without a hint of modesty. Pretty much what she’d expected. Now, after so many days of hospital food, she felt pleasantly sated and sleepy, sorely tempted to just lay her head on the arm of the couch as they talked. After resisting the impulse for a few minutes, she gave in, shifting to a more comfortable position on the soft cushions.
Watching her, Richie grinned. He loved that she felt comfortable enough around him - both as a member of her favorite rock band and just as a man, after what she’d been through - that she was settling herself comfortably in his home. He shifted down on his own couch, stretching his long legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table, reaching hesitantly to touch her hair, stroking it back where it fell over her face. Billie’s eyes flew open when he touched her, but she looked at him calmly, unafraid of this big man, knowing he’d never do anything to hurt her.
“Why don’t you take a nap?” Richie said softly. “You look tired.”
“I’ve been in bed for days!” Billie protested, but she couldn’t deny he was right. She was tired.
“I know you have, but you’ve also been badly hurt, Billie, and you need rest to get better. S’okay, really.” He smirked. “I got washing up to do anyway.”
She giggled. “You do know that half the Bon Jovi fans in the world - actually most of them - would pay to see you wash dishes.”
“And just think - you can have it for free.” He winked, still stroking her hair like he’d soothe Ava. “Just close your eyes, darlin’. I don’t mind.” But he had to say it. “I love that you’re comfortable enough here - with me - to fall asleep.”
Billie didn’t answer, just smiled at him before finally obeying and closing her eyes. God, but it felt good to be able to relax this way. That was pretty much her final thought before she fell asleep. Her final thought, but her final memory before sleep was the touch of Richie’s hand on her hair, and the sound of his voice as he hummed a low tune, the sound soothing her like a lullaby.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Chapter 67
Billie winced as the nurse helped her to carefully maneuver herself into a wheelchair, trying to hide the pain as best she could, suddenly terrified they’d change their minds and refuse to let her leave. Well, if they tried, she’d just leave anyway - she’d had enough of hospitals to last a dozen lifetimes. All she wanted right now was a shower that didn’t come surrounded by grab handles, a meal on a real plate and to sleep in her own bed. Okay, so the third would have to wait until she got back to Kansas, but anything had to be an improvement on the hospital bed she’d been stuck with for the last week or so.
She tugged at the sweater she wore, pulling it out from under her butt, then she smiled up at the nurse.
“Y’know, I could walk to the car.”
“Nope.” The woman replied cheerfully, opening the room door. “Against hospital policy, I’m afraid.” She smiled at someone outside the room, beckoning them in as she continued speaking. “Besides, you have a handsome man here who wants to help you bust out of here.”
Expecting Jay, Billie’s eyes widened when Richie walked into the room, a broad smile on his face.
“Ready to blow dis joint?” He asked, letting the ‘Joisey’ come out strong.
“Oh, hell, yes!” Billie reached to touch the hand he laid on her shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to come get me.”
“Yeah - I know.” He grinned. “But I thought, if you feel up to it, that I’d buy you lunch.”
“Real food?” She mumbled, her stomach growling instant agreement to the plan.
“Yep, real food. I’m thinking steak - veggies - buttery garlic mash…….”
“Sold.”
Richie grinned down at her again, mischief sparkling in his dark eyes. At least Billie thought it was mischief. Mostly. The more time they spent together, the more of a connection she felt, and she was pretty sure he felt it too. She just wasn’t sure where - if anywhere - it could - would - should - lead.
Stamping down hard on the flash of pleasure from the smile on her face, Richie stepped around behind the wheelchair, laying his hands on her shoulders for a moment.
“Ready to roll?”
“Yuh huh.”
The nurse picked up Billie’s bag from the bed, making to hand it to Richie, but Billie grabbed it first, pulling it around to lay it on her lap.
“Hey, don’t hurt yourself!” Richie protested, reaching over her shoulder. “I’ll carry it, keep the weight off you.”
“I’m fine!” Billie snapped. God, I am so sick of being treated like a china doll. Blushing, she moderated her tone a little, looking up at him. “Sorry. But I really am fine, Richie.”
“Okay.”
Richie smiled, the flicker of spirit coming through clearly now, showing him just what had pulled Jon into her arms all those years ago. Sure, his ‘brother’ was like any other guy - show him a hot, willing woman and he’d happily fuck her, particularly when he was on the road, far from home. But to hold his attention much beyond orgasm took something more. Took strength and spirit, and a feisty, ‘think you can control me?’ attitude. Dot had it, that was for sure, and Billie did, too. He shook himself out of his thoughts, gripping the handles of the wheelchair and pushing it toward the door.
On the way to the elevator he paused a few times, as nurses approached to wish Billie well, and he had to smile - even these medical professionals, who’d seen hundreds of patients through the doors - had been taken in by her sweet nature and her refusal to be a victim. Even Doctor Riviello appeared from somewhere, leaning down to hug her firmly.
“I hope you’ll take this in the manner it’s meant.” He grinned. “But I don’t ever want to see you again, Billie!”
“Trust me, I don’t want to see you again either!” She giggled. “At least not in your professional capacity - if I see you on the street, I promise to at least say hi.”
“Good enough. Take care.” Riviello glanced at Richie, not entirely sure of the relationship here. “Take care of her.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“See what I have to deal with here?” Richie smirked. “But at the very least I can feed her. I think she’ll let me do that.”
Billie reached back, flicking a fingernail against Richie’s knuckle. “Hey - not a mirage here - you do know I can hear you?”
“Who said that?”
So it was with laughter that Billie finally left hospital, Richie pushing her into the elevator, then out into the ground floor exit hallway, steering the wheelchair out to the pickup area where a long black car waited. Billie looked at it, then up at Richie as he stopped the chair beside the rear door.
“Just a little over the top, don’t you think?”
“Wha…….? Oh, the car?” He shrugged. “I don’t have a car here, and I figured this was more comfortable than a cab. Also with the tinted glass…….we can get you out of here without the press getting any photos.”
“Press? Oh, hell.”
Billie knew Jon had broken the news of Jay’s paternity, and she knew the media circus that had ensued - hell, what else was there to do in a hospital but watch daytime TV? - but she’d somehow almost forgotten the hushed, serious reporters who’d broadcast from right outside the hospital, explaining everything they knew - which wasn’t much, thankfully - about what had brought her to a hospital room. Somehow she’d lost her identity, at least in the minds of the press, becoming little more than ‘Jon Bon Jovi’s son’s mother’, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Meant that, given a few weeks, and whatever new scandal hit ET’s radar, she could fade back into her own life, where pretty much nobody cared about what was happening anywhere except home.
“Hey, it’s okay, Billie.” Richie came around to crouch by the wheelchair, one of his big hands covering both of hers. “Trust me. Do you care what they all think?”
“Who? The press? Everybody else? No. Not really. I only care what Jay thinks. He’s my only family, and he’s all that matters.”
“And he loves you.” Richie cleared his throat, his eyes earnest as he looked at her. “But you’re wrong about him being your only family, darlin’. You’re part of ‘us’ now. At least as far as I’m concerned. Anything you need - anything - you can come to me.”
Billie’s eyes filled with tears at his words.
“Thank you.” She whispered, cupping her hand around his tanned face.
“You’re welcome.” He said just as quietly, then lifted himself to his feet, his knees protesting the crouched position as he straightened, reaching to open the car door. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She tugged at the sweater she wore, pulling it out from under her butt, then she smiled up at the nurse.
“Y’know, I could walk to the car.”
“Nope.” The woman replied cheerfully, opening the room door. “Against hospital policy, I’m afraid.” She smiled at someone outside the room, beckoning them in as she continued speaking. “Besides, you have a handsome man here who wants to help you bust out of here.”
Expecting Jay, Billie’s eyes widened when Richie walked into the room, a broad smile on his face.
“Ready to blow dis joint?” He asked, letting the ‘Joisey’ come out strong.
“Oh, hell, yes!” Billie reached to touch the hand he laid on her shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to come get me.”
“Yeah - I know.” He grinned. “But I thought, if you feel up to it, that I’d buy you lunch.”
“Real food?” She mumbled, her stomach growling instant agreement to the plan.
“Yep, real food. I’m thinking steak - veggies - buttery garlic mash…….”
“Sold.”
Richie grinned down at her again, mischief sparkling in his dark eyes. At least Billie thought it was mischief. Mostly. The more time they spent together, the more of a connection she felt, and she was pretty sure he felt it too. She just wasn’t sure where - if anywhere - it could - would - should - lead.
Stamping down hard on the flash of pleasure from the smile on her face, Richie stepped around behind the wheelchair, laying his hands on her shoulders for a moment.
“Ready to roll?”
“Yuh huh.”
The nurse picked up Billie’s bag from the bed, making to hand it to Richie, but Billie grabbed it first, pulling it around to lay it on her lap.
“Hey, don’t hurt yourself!” Richie protested, reaching over her shoulder. “I’ll carry it, keep the weight off you.”
“I’m fine!” Billie snapped. God, I am so sick of being treated like a china doll. Blushing, she moderated her tone a little, looking up at him. “Sorry. But I really am fine, Richie.”
“Okay.”
Richie smiled, the flicker of spirit coming through clearly now, showing him just what had pulled Jon into her arms all those years ago. Sure, his ‘brother’ was like any other guy - show him a hot, willing woman and he’d happily fuck her, particularly when he was on the road, far from home. But to hold his attention much beyond orgasm took something more. Took strength and spirit, and a feisty, ‘think you can control me?’ attitude. Dot had it, that was for sure, and Billie did, too. He shook himself out of his thoughts, gripping the handles of the wheelchair and pushing it toward the door.
On the way to the elevator he paused a few times, as nurses approached to wish Billie well, and he had to smile - even these medical professionals, who’d seen hundreds of patients through the doors - had been taken in by her sweet nature and her refusal to be a victim. Even Doctor Riviello appeared from somewhere, leaning down to hug her firmly.
“I hope you’ll take this in the manner it’s meant.” He grinned. “But I don’t ever want to see you again, Billie!”
“Trust me, I don’t want to see you again either!” She giggled. “At least not in your professional capacity - if I see you on the street, I promise to at least say hi.”
“Good enough. Take care.” Riviello glanced at Richie, not entirely sure of the relationship here. “Take care of her.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“See what I have to deal with here?” Richie smirked. “But at the very least I can feed her. I think she’ll let me do that.”
Billie reached back, flicking a fingernail against Richie’s knuckle. “Hey - not a mirage here - you do know I can hear you?”
“Who said that?”
So it was with laughter that Billie finally left hospital, Richie pushing her into the elevator, then out into the ground floor exit hallway, steering the wheelchair out to the pickup area where a long black car waited. Billie looked at it, then up at Richie as he stopped the chair beside the rear door.
“Just a little over the top, don’t you think?”
“Wha…….? Oh, the car?” He shrugged. “I don’t have a car here, and I figured this was more comfortable than a cab. Also with the tinted glass…….we can get you out of here without the press getting any photos.”
“Press? Oh, hell.”
Billie knew Jon had broken the news of Jay’s paternity, and she knew the media circus that had ensued - hell, what else was there to do in a hospital but watch daytime TV? - but she’d somehow almost forgotten the hushed, serious reporters who’d broadcast from right outside the hospital, explaining everything they knew - which wasn’t much, thankfully - about what had brought her to a hospital room. Somehow she’d lost her identity, at least in the minds of the press, becoming little more than ‘Jon Bon Jovi’s son’s mother’, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Meant that, given a few weeks, and whatever new scandal hit ET’s radar, she could fade back into her own life, where pretty much nobody cared about what was happening anywhere except home.
“Hey, it’s okay, Billie.” Richie came around to crouch by the wheelchair, one of his big hands covering both of hers. “Trust me. Do you care what they all think?”
“Who? The press? Everybody else? No. Not really. I only care what Jay thinks. He’s my only family, and he’s all that matters.”
“And he loves you.” Richie cleared his throat, his eyes earnest as he looked at her. “But you’re wrong about him being your only family, darlin’. You’re part of ‘us’ now. At least as far as I’m concerned. Anything you need - anything - you can come to me.”
Billie’s eyes filled with tears at his words.
“Thank you.” She whispered, cupping her hand around his tanned face.
“You’re welcome.” He said just as quietly, then lifted himself to his feet, his knees protesting the crouched position as he straightened, reaching to open the car door. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Chapter 66
Back at the precinct, Detective Kellogg ground her teeth together. Hard. Anything to stop herself lunging across the table to beat the shit out of the suspect. Her partner was standing behind Fabian, and from the look on his face his thoughts were paralleling hers. Hardly surprising, given that the guy had just listened to the evidence against him, then shrugged.
“Hey, she likes it rough. What can I say?”
“You………” The male detective cut off his intended next words - which would’ve been ‘sick perverted motherfucker’ - instead finishing “……didn’t ‘have rough sex’ with Ms Kelsall. You beat her, you held her down and you raped and sodomised her. By my reckoning you’re looking at seventeen years.”
“You have to prove it.” Nick sneered, and at the look on her partner’s face, Kellogg raised a hand.
“Interview suspended at thirteen eleven.” She pushed her chair back and headed for the door, her partner following.
They left the room, leaving a uniformed cop watching over Fabian, and they retreated to the ‘viewing’ area of the hallway, looking in at Fabian as he sat, apparently relaxed and unperturbed in the interview room.
“Sorry.” Kellogg muttered. “I figured we could both use a time out from that asshole.”
“Before one of us beat him to death?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” She smiled. “How’d you come up with seventeen?”
“I was thinking about it on the drive back. If we can prove all of it, and get convictions, he’s looking at extortion, rape, assault, serious sexual assault - for the……y’know - and I figure kidnapping, too, since he kept her in the room against her will.” He shrugged. “Max sentence for each………seventeen years.”
“Maybe more.” Kellogg reached a decision that had been preying on her since this all started. “One of my friends, her younger sister Kirsten used to be a Soulmate……and I think I know now why she quit. If I can get her to make a complaint…….”
“Do it.”
“I’ll go see her. How much longer can we hold him without charging him?”
“Maybe twelve hours, max.”
“Okay. I’m on it. I’ll let you know if she agrees to make a statement.”
“Cool. Meantime I’ll get the animal put back in his cage.”
On her way to see the young girl, Kellogg called Richie on the number he’d given her, making arrangements for him to come in and give a full, formal statement about the attack, then she started trying to figure out how to broach the subject. That difficult decision took up the remainder of the drive.
Next day, when Richie obligingly came to the precinct early in the morning - well, early by his standards, strolling in through the doors just before ten o’clock, Kellogg took his statement quickly and efficiently. When that was done, though, she walked him to the door, quietly telling him that she had, after much persuasion, managed to get another of Fabian’s victims to make a statement. A statement which was pretty damning. Richie looked at her.
“Was that what you meant with that note you gave Billie? When you said he’d done it before?”
“Yeah. She’d never outright said what happened, but she loved being a Soulmate, so when she quit……I knew something must’ve happened. Didn’t know who, though, until all this happened.”
“He’s a sick puppy, that’s for sure.”
“That he is. And unfortunately we can’t put him to sleep here - not in this state. But, I think, the way everything’s stacking up against him, his best bet would be to plead guilty and hope for a lesser sentence.”
“But he will do time?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Good.” ‘Cause between me and Jon, we know a lot of people……surely we can do something to make his jail stay as……painful as possible? Looking at the Detective again, Richie knew she had a damned good idea what he was thinking, and he shrugged. “I’m from Joisey, darlin’.” He said by way of explanation.
Sitting in his living room, Jon moodily flipped channels. Yep. Every channel seemed to make at least passing mention of his recently released statement announcing that Jay was his son. Hell, even CNN covered it! He’d not made their radar since…….well, since the apparent international crisis of him cutting his hair!
“It’s done now.” He muttered to the empty room. He was alone here, Dot and the kids down in Jersey for a few days. Basically long enough for him to find a new place. Or just move back to Jersey. Didn’t make sense - now the kids were nicely settled into their schools - to yet again uproot them and take them back to Jersey. So to make the whole ‘no harm, no foul’ divorce work, one of them had to move out. Apparently that ‘one’ was him.
Hell, at least in Jersey he’d not have to contend with the constant paparazzi and reporters. Reporters especially right now. Which was part of why Dot and the kids had left town for a bit. The kids didn’t deserve it. None of them did. And that included Jay.
At that thought, Jon laid down the glass of wine he’d just picked up, grabbing his phone instead. Scrolling through, he found Jay’s home number and dialled. After a few rings, a breathless Jay answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi Jay. It’s……Jon.”
“Jon. Hey. How you doin’?........Stoppit!” The last word clearly wasn’t directed at him, and Jon winced. Nice timing, Bongiovi.
“Sorry, Jay. Didn’t mean to interrupt…..just wondered how your mom’s doing?”
“She’s good. They might let her out next week.”
“Really? That’s great!” Jon smiled ruefully. “I’ll let you get back to…..Kadie.”
“Thanks, bo…….uh, Jon. I’ll let mom know you called.”
“Thanks, Jay. I’ll give Rich a call, let him know.”
“Nah, s’okay - he was going up there tonight anyway. He’s been visiting her most days, I think.”
“He has?” Oh and doesn’t that make me feel like a shit? That I’ve not been back. “He never said.”
“I think…….” The words faded to a yelp, and Jon could only imagine what Kadie was up to. “I think he feels kinda responsible, still. Because he ‘let her go’. I’ve tried to tell him, but……”
“Yeah, he’s almost as stubborn as a Bongiovi.” Jon chuckled. “And that includes you, before you give me any smartass answers!”
There was a heavy silence on the line before Jay replied.
“I guess it does.”
“Hey, she likes it rough. What can I say?”
“You………” The male detective cut off his intended next words - which would’ve been ‘sick perverted motherfucker’ - instead finishing “……didn’t ‘have rough sex’ with Ms Kelsall. You beat her, you held her down and you raped and sodomised her. By my reckoning you’re looking at seventeen years.”
“You have to prove it.” Nick sneered, and at the look on her partner’s face, Kellogg raised a hand.
“Interview suspended at thirteen eleven.” She pushed her chair back and headed for the door, her partner following.
They left the room, leaving a uniformed cop watching over Fabian, and they retreated to the ‘viewing’ area of the hallway, looking in at Fabian as he sat, apparently relaxed and unperturbed in the interview room.
“Sorry.” Kellogg muttered. “I figured we could both use a time out from that asshole.”
“Before one of us beat him to death?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” She smiled. “How’d you come up with seventeen?”
“I was thinking about it on the drive back. If we can prove all of it, and get convictions, he’s looking at extortion, rape, assault, serious sexual assault - for the……y’know - and I figure kidnapping, too, since he kept her in the room against her will.” He shrugged. “Max sentence for each………seventeen years.”
“Maybe more.” Kellogg reached a decision that had been preying on her since this all started. “One of my friends, her younger sister Kirsten used to be a Soulmate……and I think I know now why she quit. If I can get her to make a complaint…….”
“Do it.”
“I’ll go see her. How much longer can we hold him without charging him?”
“Maybe twelve hours, max.”
“Okay. I’m on it. I’ll let you know if she agrees to make a statement.”
“Cool. Meantime I’ll get the animal put back in his cage.”
On her way to see the young girl, Kellogg called Richie on the number he’d given her, making arrangements for him to come in and give a full, formal statement about the attack, then she started trying to figure out how to broach the subject. That difficult decision took up the remainder of the drive.
Next day, when Richie obligingly came to the precinct early in the morning - well, early by his standards, strolling in through the doors just before ten o’clock, Kellogg took his statement quickly and efficiently. When that was done, though, she walked him to the door, quietly telling him that she had, after much persuasion, managed to get another of Fabian’s victims to make a statement. A statement which was pretty damning. Richie looked at her.
“Was that what you meant with that note you gave Billie? When you said he’d done it before?”
“Yeah. She’d never outright said what happened, but she loved being a Soulmate, so when she quit……I knew something must’ve happened. Didn’t know who, though, until all this happened.”
“He’s a sick puppy, that’s for sure.”
“That he is. And unfortunately we can’t put him to sleep here - not in this state. But, I think, the way everything’s stacking up against him, his best bet would be to plead guilty and hope for a lesser sentence.”
“But he will do time?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Good.” ‘Cause between me and Jon, we know a lot of people……surely we can do something to make his jail stay as……painful as possible? Looking at the Detective again, Richie knew she had a damned good idea what he was thinking, and he shrugged. “I’m from Joisey, darlin’.” He said by way of explanation.
Sitting in his living room, Jon moodily flipped channels. Yep. Every channel seemed to make at least passing mention of his recently released statement announcing that Jay was his son. Hell, even CNN covered it! He’d not made their radar since…….well, since the apparent international crisis of him cutting his hair!
“It’s done now.” He muttered to the empty room. He was alone here, Dot and the kids down in Jersey for a few days. Basically long enough for him to find a new place. Or just move back to Jersey. Didn’t make sense - now the kids were nicely settled into their schools - to yet again uproot them and take them back to Jersey. So to make the whole ‘no harm, no foul’ divorce work, one of them had to move out. Apparently that ‘one’ was him.
Hell, at least in Jersey he’d not have to contend with the constant paparazzi and reporters. Reporters especially right now. Which was part of why Dot and the kids had left town for a bit. The kids didn’t deserve it. None of them did. And that included Jay.
At that thought, Jon laid down the glass of wine he’d just picked up, grabbing his phone instead. Scrolling through, he found Jay’s home number and dialled. After a few rings, a breathless Jay answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi Jay. It’s……Jon.”
“Jon. Hey. How you doin’?........Stoppit!” The last word clearly wasn’t directed at him, and Jon winced. Nice timing, Bongiovi.
“Sorry, Jay. Didn’t mean to interrupt…..just wondered how your mom’s doing?”
“She’s good. They might let her out next week.”
“Really? That’s great!” Jon smiled ruefully. “I’ll let you get back to…..Kadie.”
“Thanks, bo…….uh, Jon. I’ll let mom know you called.”
“Thanks, Jay. I’ll give Rich a call, let him know.”
“Nah, s’okay - he was going up there tonight anyway. He’s been visiting her most days, I think.”
“He has?” Oh and doesn’t that make me feel like a shit? That I’ve not been back. “He never said.”
“I think…….” The words faded to a yelp, and Jon could only imagine what Kadie was up to. “I think he feels kinda responsible, still. Because he ‘let her go’. I’ve tried to tell him, but……”
“Yeah, he’s almost as stubborn as a Bongiovi.” Jon chuckled. “And that includes you, before you give me any smartass answers!”
There was a heavy silence on the line before Jay replied.
“I guess it does.”
Chapter 65
Detective Kellogg blinked in shock. A pretty mild reaction, all things considered. Her partner seemed even less shocked - but maybe it was just a guy thing. Billie looked from one to the other, finally forcing herself to break the awkward silence hanging heavily in the room.
“You don’t need to know anything more about that, right? I mean, the hows and whys…….”
“Not germane to the case.” Kellogg replied swiftly. No, not germane to the assault, just a serious case of ‘what the fuck?’. All these years he’s been lauded as this perfect rockstar husband and father, yet all these years……
“Jon never knew. Not until Jay came to try out for the Soul.” Billie said, somehow feeling - even now - the need to protect Jon. It was the male detective who spoke next, though.
“And every Soul fan is glad he did.” He said brusquely - typically male - let’s move off this emotional stuff - we can talk football! Or at least Arena Ball, which was the red-hot favorite sport of most Philadelphians he knew. “He could be our next Graz.” He looked at the two surprised faces. “What?! Kid’s a great player! I’m just sayin’……”
Rolling her eyes, Kellogg turned back to Billie, a silent exchange of ‘men!’ passing between them before she retrieved the recorder and clicked it off.
“So what now?” Billie asked nervously.
“Now…..now we interview Mr Fabian, find out what he has to say for himself.” Kellogg flashed a glance at her partner, seeing no sign of a ‘shut up’ signal, so she carried on. “But, I have to say, with your statement, and what Mr Sambora has said - though we still need to interview him properly - plus the evidence collected by your doctor…….I really don’t see how he could even try to deny it.”
Billie smiled gratefully at the two cops as they got to their feet.
“If you remember anything else……” Kellogg proferred a card. “Give me a call.”
Billie took the card, nodding, and the detectives said their goodbyes and left the room. She sighed, laying her head wearily back onto the pillow. Idly, she lifted the card, now seeing that Kellogg had penned a short note on the back. It simply said ‘He’s done it before’.
Stephanie and Jon were still sitting close together on the couch - Steph trying to process everything she’d been told, while Jon sat silent, afraid of saying the wrong thing at this critical time. Their solitude didn’t last long, though, as Jesse and Jake wandered into the room, slightly hesitant but with that streak of Bongiovi stubborn running strong and true.
“Hi guys.” Jon said carefully as they stopped in front of him.
“Hi dad.” Jesse appeared to be the designated spokesman for their party of two. “Mom said we should come see you.”
“She did?” And what else did she say? ‘Just remember to go straight for the groin, where you can do the most damage’?
But he should’ve known her better.
“She said we shouldn’t be mad with you for something you did twenty years ago. Said we should let you explain what happened.”
Movement out in the hallway caught Jon’s attention, over the boys’ heads, and he saw Dot there, holding a near-sleeping Romeo in her arms. She smiled at him reassuringly, and Jon smiled back, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ to the woman he’d loved for more than half of his life.
Steeling himself to repeat the story - deciding that the boys would get a somewhat abbreviated - ‘censored’ - version, Jon smiled at his two sons.
“Come sit down here with me.” He invited.
So Jon went over the story again, missing out the detail of the attack on Billie, seeing a hint of approval in Stephanie’s gaze, her silent agreement to not mention the attack or the blackmail that had led to it. Even Jesse was just a bit on the young side to hear that kind of thing.
Jon ended his explanation, telling the boys - and Steph - that none of this changed how he felt about them. Telling them that he could never be Jay’s dad, the way he was their dad. Too much time had passed with neither of them knowing the other existed, and he could never get that time back.
“I’m Jay’s father, but I’m not his dad, if you can understand that?” He said cautiously. The three of them seemed very calm, very accepting of this new situation, and he braced himself for the floodgates of Bongiovi temper - times three - being opened.
But it seemed he’d misread his children almost as badly as he’d misread his wife, as Jesse shrugged, Jon suppressing a smile as Jake almost instantly copied his brother.
“I get it, dad. Kinda like Kevin Parsons’ stepdad - he’s not Kev’s real dad, and he doesn’t try to be - he just tries to be his friend.”
“Yeah, I guess it is kinda like that, Jess.” Jon cleared his throat. “You know I love you, don’t you? All of you. And I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“We know, dad.” Steph spoke for the first time since the boys had entered the room.
“C’mere.” Jon reached out his arms, gathering all three of them - with some difficulty - damn they were getting so big - into a hug. Mainly to give himself a chance to blink back the tears of relief clouding his eyes. Thank you, God.
Still sitting on the hard floor, Richie shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the heavy watch on his left wrist. They’d been sat here for better than forty minutes - surely by the time they fetched Billie’s all-important coffee, surely by then the cops would be done? What was to say, really? ‘Sick fucker blackmailed me, beat me, raped me, turned me over and…….’ Richie stopped the thought, sickened by the memory of how he’d found her, battered, torn and bleeding in her hotel room.
Forcing his mind off those images - though he was pretty sure they were indelibly etched onto his memory - he turned to Jay.
“So - we goin’ to get that coffee or what? ‘Cause I don’t know ‘bout you, but my ass went numb a half hour ago.”
Jay laughed as he realised he felt the same numbness.
“Yeah. And the cops should be just about done, too.”
“You don’t need to know anything more about that, right? I mean, the hows and whys…….”
“Not germane to the case.” Kellogg replied swiftly. No, not germane to the assault, just a serious case of ‘what the fuck?’. All these years he’s been lauded as this perfect rockstar husband and father, yet all these years……
“Jon never knew. Not until Jay came to try out for the Soul.” Billie said, somehow feeling - even now - the need to protect Jon. It was the male detective who spoke next, though.
“And every Soul fan is glad he did.” He said brusquely - typically male - let’s move off this emotional stuff - we can talk football! Or at least Arena Ball, which was the red-hot favorite sport of most Philadelphians he knew. “He could be our next Graz.” He looked at the two surprised faces. “What?! Kid’s a great player! I’m just sayin’……”
Rolling her eyes, Kellogg turned back to Billie, a silent exchange of ‘men!’ passing between them before she retrieved the recorder and clicked it off.
“So what now?” Billie asked nervously.
“Now…..now we interview Mr Fabian, find out what he has to say for himself.” Kellogg flashed a glance at her partner, seeing no sign of a ‘shut up’ signal, so she carried on. “But, I have to say, with your statement, and what Mr Sambora has said - though we still need to interview him properly - plus the evidence collected by your doctor…….I really don’t see how he could even try to deny it.”
Billie smiled gratefully at the two cops as they got to their feet.
“If you remember anything else……” Kellogg proferred a card. “Give me a call.”
Billie took the card, nodding, and the detectives said their goodbyes and left the room. She sighed, laying her head wearily back onto the pillow. Idly, she lifted the card, now seeing that Kellogg had penned a short note on the back. It simply said ‘He’s done it before’.
Stephanie and Jon were still sitting close together on the couch - Steph trying to process everything she’d been told, while Jon sat silent, afraid of saying the wrong thing at this critical time. Their solitude didn’t last long, though, as Jesse and Jake wandered into the room, slightly hesitant but with that streak of Bongiovi stubborn running strong and true.
“Hi guys.” Jon said carefully as they stopped in front of him.
“Hi dad.” Jesse appeared to be the designated spokesman for their party of two. “Mom said we should come see you.”
“She did?” And what else did she say? ‘Just remember to go straight for the groin, where you can do the most damage’?
But he should’ve known her better.
“She said we shouldn’t be mad with you for something you did twenty years ago. Said we should let you explain what happened.”
Movement out in the hallway caught Jon’s attention, over the boys’ heads, and he saw Dot there, holding a near-sleeping Romeo in her arms. She smiled at him reassuringly, and Jon smiled back, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ to the woman he’d loved for more than half of his life.
Steeling himself to repeat the story - deciding that the boys would get a somewhat abbreviated - ‘censored’ - version, Jon smiled at his two sons.
“Come sit down here with me.” He invited.
So Jon went over the story again, missing out the detail of the attack on Billie, seeing a hint of approval in Stephanie’s gaze, her silent agreement to not mention the attack or the blackmail that had led to it. Even Jesse was just a bit on the young side to hear that kind of thing.
Jon ended his explanation, telling the boys - and Steph - that none of this changed how he felt about them. Telling them that he could never be Jay’s dad, the way he was their dad. Too much time had passed with neither of them knowing the other existed, and he could never get that time back.
“I’m Jay’s father, but I’m not his dad, if you can understand that?” He said cautiously. The three of them seemed very calm, very accepting of this new situation, and he braced himself for the floodgates of Bongiovi temper - times three - being opened.
But it seemed he’d misread his children almost as badly as he’d misread his wife, as Jesse shrugged, Jon suppressing a smile as Jake almost instantly copied his brother.
“I get it, dad. Kinda like Kevin Parsons’ stepdad - he’s not Kev’s real dad, and he doesn’t try to be - he just tries to be his friend.”
“Yeah, I guess it is kinda like that, Jess.” Jon cleared his throat. “You know I love you, don’t you? All of you. And I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“We know, dad.” Steph spoke for the first time since the boys had entered the room.
“C’mere.” Jon reached out his arms, gathering all three of them - with some difficulty - damn they were getting so big - into a hug. Mainly to give himself a chance to blink back the tears of relief clouding his eyes. Thank you, God.
Still sitting on the hard floor, Richie shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the heavy watch on his left wrist. They’d been sat here for better than forty minutes - surely by the time they fetched Billie’s all-important coffee, surely by then the cops would be done? What was to say, really? ‘Sick fucker blackmailed me, beat me, raped me, turned me over and…….’ Richie stopped the thought, sickened by the memory of how he’d found her, battered, torn and bleeding in her hotel room.
Forcing his mind off those images - though he was pretty sure they were indelibly etched onto his memory - he turned to Jay.
“So - we goin’ to get that coffee or what? ‘Cause I don’t know ‘bout you, but my ass went numb a half hour ago.”
Jay laughed as he realised he felt the same numbness.
“Yeah. And the cops should be just about done, too.”
Chapter 64
Leaving the hospital room, closing the door as the detectives moved closer to Billie, Richie tried to figure out if the way he was beginning - just beginning - to feel about Billie was wrong. He’d been trying to convince himself that his overwhelming desire to hurt Fabian was because Billie was a friend, but was that all it was? The tenderness he felt toward her said maybe not. It wasn’t the tender concern of a friend, and it certainly wasn’t the paternal way he adored Ava. It was…..it was different, he finally admitted to himself, but refused to allow the thought to go any further. She was hurt and damaged and quite likely just reaching out to someone she saw as a friend. And right now that was what she needed. What Richie wanted or needed would have to be put aside until he could understand it himself.
He sighed heavily. Why could life never be easy? But, deep inside, he knew that if life were easy it just wouldn’t hold the same value - just that some lives, like Billie’s, held a hell of a lot more value than, say, Nick-the-Prick’s.
Thinking of that jolted Richie out of his distracted thoughts, reminded him that he was supposed to be going in search of Jay, to make sure he was okay and also to keep him away while Billie talked with the police. On a hunch, knowing it’s where he’d find Jon in a similar situation, Richie walked to the fire exit door, pushing it open and walking into the stairwell.
After leaving the room, Jay had forced himself to hold his pace short of the flat-out run he wanted, just needing space and solitude right now. The closest thing he saw that offered either of those things was the stairwell he’d slammed into before, when he’d found out Jon was his father, and he pushed through the crash bar again, closing the door and making it down the first flight of stairs before dropping to sit on the bottom stair, his head in his hands.
A heave shook his body, and he leaned forward suddenly, retching, vomiting in disgust at the thoughts whirling through his mind. That single spasm of nausea seemed to clear a fraction of his brain, though, and he moved off the stair, to the floor, his back in the corner of the landing, his knees drawn up to his chest.
There were no tears, well maybe just a few, but it was the burning rage that had forced him from the room, the desperate need to find Fabian and take him apart piece by piece. Nausea was scalding his throat again, but it was just disgust, really, and he swallowed it back, searching for strength.
Seeing the strength in his mom reminded him that he had that same strength, and if he were honest with himself, he knew ‘the boss’ had that same kind of resilience. Kind of had to, to have survived so long in such a fickle business. Which meant that he, Jay, had it from both sides. All he had to do was find it, when all he wanted to do right now was find Desi and crawl into her arms. And never leave. For now, though, all he could do was lay his head on his arms, closing himself into his own little world.
His own little world didn’t last too long, but he felt far calmer by the time he heard the stairwell door open again, only lifting his head when he heard Richie’s familiar voice.
“How you doin’?” Richie asked, seeing the puddle of vomit on the floor and staying well clear.
“Okay.” Jay said softly, then his eyes widened in panic, but Richie spoke first, reassuring him.
“She’s fine. Cops arrived to take her statement, and I said I’d come find you.”
Slowly, his near-fifty-year-old joints less flexible than Jay’s, Richie lowered himself to sit on his butt on the hard floor, close to Jay but not ‘too’ close. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his boots just touching the bottom of the handrail as he crossed his ankles.
“I said I’d keep you away for a bit.” He explained. “Guess she doesn’t think you need to hear…..”
“Hell, I don’t think I want to hear any more.” Jay gave a twisted grin. A Jon grin, Richie thought absently. “I mean, I know waaay more about my mom’s…….private life……than most kids do. Not that I’m a kid, but….”
“Sure you are. You’re Billie’s kid. You’ll never be anything but her little boy, Jay.” He chuckled. “I’ll be fifty years old this year, and my mom still treats me like I’m twelve sometimes. My advice? Learn to live with it, because you’ll never quite convince her you’re all growed up.”
Jay looked at him for a moment, then laughed helplessly. “Well, shit.”
Up in the hospital room, the two detectives were just finishing up their last few questions to Billie. Both of them were experienced enough to have been involved with quite a few sex crimes, but Detective Kellogg had seen the flash of disgust on her partner’s face as Billie softly described what had been done to her, and she guessed that it was less the actual physical assault that was getting to him - though that was certainly bad enough - but more the apparent pleasure the attacker had taken in inflicting as much pain - as much damage - as he could. Unnoticed, tears trickled down Billie’s face as she forced her voice to remain strong and steady, trying desperately to keep emotion out of it, to just lay down the bare, brutal facts.
She’d reached almost the end of her story now, having skirted around exactly who Jay’s father was, just referring to him as ‘Jon’, but she knew she had to include it, to allow the detectives to fully understand the ‘blackmail’ aspect of the crime. Looking at Kellogg, Billie could see in the other woman’s eyes that she realised there was something more to come, something possibly shocking, and she leaned forward slightly, inviting Billie’s trust.
“…..and what else, Billie?” She said gently. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” She whispered. God, this is the hardest part. For twenty years I’ve kept it secret. Twenty years! And now I’m going to tell someone who isn’t directly involved. Not Jon, not Jay, not even Richie, but a stranger. This will change everything. She steeled herself, though. And it’s better coming out this way than through that bastard, because you know he’ll spill it soon as he can, Billie!
“Go on.” Kellogg’s gentle encouragement, and Billie sighed.
“The reason Nick Fabian….” She made herself repeat the name. “…was blackmailing me, was he’d found out who my son’s father is.”
“Jon.”
“Yes. Jon.” Her eyes were stricken as she whispered it, just loud enough for them both to hear, just loud enough for the tape to pick up. “Bon Jovi. Jon Bon Jovi is Jay’s father.”
He sighed heavily. Why could life never be easy? But, deep inside, he knew that if life were easy it just wouldn’t hold the same value - just that some lives, like Billie’s, held a hell of a lot more value than, say, Nick-the-Prick’s.
Thinking of that jolted Richie out of his distracted thoughts, reminded him that he was supposed to be going in search of Jay, to make sure he was okay and also to keep him away while Billie talked with the police. On a hunch, knowing it’s where he’d find Jon in a similar situation, Richie walked to the fire exit door, pushing it open and walking into the stairwell.
After leaving the room, Jay had forced himself to hold his pace short of the flat-out run he wanted, just needing space and solitude right now. The closest thing he saw that offered either of those things was the stairwell he’d slammed into before, when he’d found out Jon was his father, and he pushed through the crash bar again, closing the door and making it down the first flight of stairs before dropping to sit on the bottom stair, his head in his hands.
A heave shook his body, and he leaned forward suddenly, retching, vomiting in disgust at the thoughts whirling through his mind. That single spasm of nausea seemed to clear a fraction of his brain, though, and he moved off the stair, to the floor, his back in the corner of the landing, his knees drawn up to his chest.
There were no tears, well maybe just a few, but it was the burning rage that had forced him from the room, the desperate need to find Fabian and take him apart piece by piece. Nausea was scalding his throat again, but it was just disgust, really, and he swallowed it back, searching for strength.
Seeing the strength in his mom reminded him that he had that same strength, and if he were honest with himself, he knew ‘the boss’ had that same kind of resilience. Kind of had to, to have survived so long in such a fickle business. Which meant that he, Jay, had it from both sides. All he had to do was find it, when all he wanted to do right now was find Desi and crawl into her arms. And never leave. For now, though, all he could do was lay his head on his arms, closing himself into his own little world.
His own little world didn’t last too long, but he felt far calmer by the time he heard the stairwell door open again, only lifting his head when he heard Richie’s familiar voice.
“How you doin’?” Richie asked, seeing the puddle of vomit on the floor and staying well clear.
“Okay.” Jay said softly, then his eyes widened in panic, but Richie spoke first, reassuring him.
“She’s fine. Cops arrived to take her statement, and I said I’d come find you.”
Slowly, his near-fifty-year-old joints less flexible than Jay’s, Richie lowered himself to sit on his butt on the hard floor, close to Jay but not ‘too’ close. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his boots just touching the bottom of the handrail as he crossed his ankles.
“I said I’d keep you away for a bit.” He explained. “Guess she doesn’t think you need to hear…..”
“Hell, I don’t think I want to hear any more.” Jay gave a twisted grin. A Jon grin, Richie thought absently. “I mean, I know waaay more about my mom’s…….private life……than most kids do. Not that I’m a kid, but….”
“Sure you are. You’re Billie’s kid. You’ll never be anything but her little boy, Jay.” He chuckled. “I’ll be fifty years old this year, and my mom still treats me like I’m twelve sometimes. My advice? Learn to live with it, because you’ll never quite convince her you’re all growed up.”
Jay looked at him for a moment, then laughed helplessly. “Well, shit.”
Up in the hospital room, the two detectives were just finishing up their last few questions to Billie. Both of them were experienced enough to have been involved with quite a few sex crimes, but Detective Kellogg had seen the flash of disgust on her partner’s face as Billie softly described what had been done to her, and she guessed that it was less the actual physical assault that was getting to him - though that was certainly bad enough - but more the apparent pleasure the attacker had taken in inflicting as much pain - as much damage - as he could. Unnoticed, tears trickled down Billie’s face as she forced her voice to remain strong and steady, trying desperately to keep emotion out of it, to just lay down the bare, brutal facts.
She’d reached almost the end of her story now, having skirted around exactly who Jay’s father was, just referring to him as ‘Jon’, but she knew she had to include it, to allow the detectives to fully understand the ‘blackmail’ aspect of the crime. Looking at Kellogg, Billie could see in the other woman’s eyes that she realised there was something more to come, something possibly shocking, and she leaned forward slightly, inviting Billie’s trust.
“…..and what else, Billie?” She said gently. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” She whispered. God, this is the hardest part. For twenty years I’ve kept it secret. Twenty years! And now I’m going to tell someone who isn’t directly involved. Not Jon, not Jay, not even Richie, but a stranger. This will change everything. She steeled herself, though. And it’s better coming out this way than through that bastard, because you know he’ll spill it soon as he can, Billie!
“Go on.” Kellogg’s gentle encouragement, and Billie sighed.
“The reason Nick Fabian….” She made herself repeat the name. “…was blackmailing me, was he’d found out who my son’s father is.”
“Jon.”
“Yes. Jon.” Her eyes were stricken as she whispered it, just loud enough for them both to hear, just loud enough for the tape to pick up. “Bon Jovi. Jon Bon Jovi is Jay’s father.”
Friday, October 5, 2012
Chapter 63
Jay and Richie visited with Billie for a while, and Richie was impressed by her courage, that she didn’t shy away from the subject of what had landed her in here. She didn’t exactly share details, but she did know that they were both well aware of what had happened, and she was clearly more comfortable than he’d have expected when she talked about it. Hell, she was far stronger and braver about it than he could imagine he’d ever be. After her declaration of pride in Jay for his attack on Fabian, she’d frowned pensively.
“Do we know what’s happening with him?” There was no need to elaborate on who ‘him’ was.
“Not so far. Don’t know much more than he got arrested.” Jay said, looking to Richie for confirmation.
Richie shrugged. “Haven’t heard anything. But, then, after Jon went back to the city, I was pretty much left to sit and wait.”
“Back to the city?” Billie figured it out in seconds. “Oh, God. His kids. His…….his wife….. He’s gone to tell them?” Her eyes flicked to her son, so like his father. “To tell them about Jay?”
“Dot already knows.” Richie replied. “Jon actually told her the night……..the night you got hurt.”
“I didn’t ‘got hurt’, Richie.” Billie said firmly, the cowgirl definitely back in control. “I got raped. Raped and more, but let’s stick with raped.”
“Mom.” Jay whispered, and she reached out to touch his hand, seeing the stricken look on his face.
“Jay, I didn’t do anything wrong, and I refuse to feel like I did. I will not let that bastard make me into a victim.”
“I……..” Jay cleared his throat harshly, pushing back from the bed as he felt his throat tighten painfully, an equal mixture of pride and hate. “You want some coffee, mom? I’m going for some.”
“Sounds good.” Billie knew he didn’t really want coffee, but she understood. And she respected him all the more for it.
Without another word, Jay nodded, leaving the room, not quite jogging, but with a long, fast stride, needing to get away to somewhere private before he lost it totally.
Richie watched him go, then turned back to Billie. “Want me to go after him?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He’ll be okay, Richie. He just needs some space I think. And I get it - it must be hard for him, knowing what happened.”
“Must be harder for you, though.” Richie said carefully.
“I guess.” Billie shifted uncomfortably. Dammit, she hated needing help for simple things, but……. “Could you help me? I hate asking, but I need to sit up more, and…..”
“Hey, it’s no problem, darlin’.” He was off his chair almost before she’d finished asking, seeing the blush on her cheeks, knowing how difficult it must be for her. “What d’you need?”
“I need………up.” She tried to push against the mattress, then his hands were at her sides.
“No, don’t move.” Richie said, taking her weight in his hands, lifting gently, pushing her toward the head of the bed until she was more firmly against the pillows. “How’s that?”
“Better.” She blushed again. “Thanks, Richie. I…..don’t understand why you’re being so good to me, though. You barely know me.”
“So?” He shrugged, grinning. “I like you, Billie. Liked you for protecting my friend, and the more I’ve got to know you, the more I like you. At the very least, I consider you a friend.” He paused. “And I hope you can see me the same way.”
“At least.” She murmured, slightly cryptic, but the meaning clear enough to Richie. Clear enough to make him smile at her again.
“Anything else you need while I’m feeling helpful?”
“Chocolate? Coffee? A bullwhip so I can skin Nick fucking Fabian slowly and painfully?”
Richie chuckled. “Coffee your boy is fetching, and chocolate I can bring next visit. As to the bullwhip……let me work on it.”
Billie laughed, shaking her head at him. “Y’know, I’ve been a fan of Bon Jovi a long time now, and I’d always thought you had to be probably the nicest of the guys. Seems like I was right.”
“Certainly the craziest - not so sure about the nicest.”
“Hey, don’t argue with the sick lady.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you have that for now.” Richie grinned. “But you won’t always be sick lady.” A sudden frown. “You won’t, right? I mean…….”
“Doctor Riviello seems to think that, with a little time to heal, I should be completely fine again.” She smirked. “Maybe what I told the prick - that would be Fabian, not the doctor, by the way - was right. That his dick was too fucking small.”
“Jesus! You told him that after he’d….raped you?”
“Actually, I think it was partway through.” Her eyes clouded. “I think that was what made him decide to move along from ‘normal’ rape……decide to…..to…….”
“Stoppit.” Richie said firmly, laying his big, tanned hand over her smaller but equally tanned one. “Not a victim, remember?”
“Not a victim.” She echoed, flipping her hand to squeeze his fingers before looking at him. “Thanks Richie.”
“Anytime, darlin’.” With his free hand, he reached to push a lock of dark hair off her face. “Any time at all.”
He kept hold of her hand, their fingers linked on the bed, and Billie didn’t even attempt to pull away. It felt good. Felt safe. Felt like she could trust him, and she liked that. She needed that right now.
After a few minutes, their companionable silence was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by it opening, the two detectives from before standing there.
“Ms Kelsall?” Said Detective Kellogg, smiling across at her and Richie. “If you’re feeling up to it, we need to take your statement?”
“Okay.” She replied instantly, and Richie gave her fingers another reassuring squeeze before releasing her.
“I’ll go find Jay? See how he’s doing.”
“Thanks Richie.” Billie’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “Again.”
“Told you - anytime.” He leaned down, touching his lips to her forehead lightly, whispering encouragement. “You can do this, Billie. Just remember - not a victim.”
“Not.” She repeated, unbelievably touched by his tenderness. “Can you……can you keep Jay away for a bit?”
“Sure. Though if he’s as stubborn as his……..” He cut off the words, but Billie looked at him steadily.
“It’s part of the ‘story’, Richie. It’ll come out soon enough. And you said he’s……”
“Yeah. They know.” He confirmed. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
He left the room, and the two detectives, having waited politely by the door, came to the bedside, pulling chairs up close. As was standard in rape cases, the female would take the lead, and Detective Kellogg smiled at Billie.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened, Ms Kelsall. What you can remember.”
“What I can remember?” She whispered, images flashing into her mind. “You think I could forget what happened?”
“Of course not. I’m sorry, I just meant……..”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant. And, please, my name is Billie.” She drew a deep breath. “It’s a kind of long story, so I need to start from the beginning, for it to make sense. Need to tell you why it happened.”
“Whole story is far better than bits and pieces.” Kellogg smiled again, pulling a recorder from her purse, holding it up. “We’ll record it, then we can have it typed up for you to check and sign, okay?”
“Okay.” Billie nodded, steeling herself to tell a story she’d hoped to never share. Not the whole, entire story, of course. Not the twenty-years-ago part, but just from the catalyst for this. “My son, Jay, plays for the Philadelphia Soul, and a couple of weeks ago he got hurt in a game……”
“Do we know what’s happening with him?” There was no need to elaborate on who ‘him’ was.
“Not so far. Don’t know much more than he got arrested.” Jay said, looking to Richie for confirmation.
Richie shrugged. “Haven’t heard anything. But, then, after Jon went back to the city, I was pretty much left to sit and wait.”
“Back to the city?” Billie figured it out in seconds. “Oh, God. His kids. His…….his wife….. He’s gone to tell them?” Her eyes flicked to her son, so like his father. “To tell them about Jay?”
“Dot already knows.” Richie replied. “Jon actually told her the night……..the night you got hurt.”
“I didn’t ‘got hurt’, Richie.” Billie said firmly, the cowgirl definitely back in control. “I got raped. Raped and more, but let’s stick with raped.”
“Mom.” Jay whispered, and she reached out to touch his hand, seeing the stricken look on his face.
“Jay, I didn’t do anything wrong, and I refuse to feel like I did. I will not let that bastard make me into a victim.”
“I……..” Jay cleared his throat harshly, pushing back from the bed as he felt his throat tighten painfully, an equal mixture of pride and hate. “You want some coffee, mom? I’m going for some.”
“Sounds good.” Billie knew he didn’t really want coffee, but she understood. And she respected him all the more for it.
Without another word, Jay nodded, leaving the room, not quite jogging, but with a long, fast stride, needing to get away to somewhere private before he lost it totally.
Richie watched him go, then turned back to Billie. “Want me to go after him?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He’ll be okay, Richie. He just needs some space I think. And I get it - it must be hard for him, knowing what happened.”
“Must be harder for you, though.” Richie said carefully.
“I guess.” Billie shifted uncomfortably. Dammit, she hated needing help for simple things, but……. “Could you help me? I hate asking, but I need to sit up more, and…..”
“Hey, it’s no problem, darlin’.” He was off his chair almost before she’d finished asking, seeing the blush on her cheeks, knowing how difficult it must be for her. “What d’you need?”
“I need………up.” She tried to push against the mattress, then his hands were at her sides.
“No, don’t move.” Richie said, taking her weight in his hands, lifting gently, pushing her toward the head of the bed until she was more firmly against the pillows. “How’s that?”
“Better.” She blushed again. “Thanks, Richie. I…..don’t understand why you’re being so good to me, though. You barely know me.”
“So?” He shrugged, grinning. “I like you, Billie. Liked you for protecting my friend, and the more I’ve got to know you, the more I like you. At the very least, I consider you a friend.” He paused. “And I hope you can see me the same way.”
“At least.” She murmured, slightly cryptic, but the meaning clear enough to Richie. Clear enough to make him smile at her again.
“Anything else you need while I’m feeling helpful?”
“Chocolate? Coffee? A bullwhip so I can skin Nick fucking Fabian slowly and painfully?”
Richie chuckled. “Coffee your boy is fetching, and chocolate I can bring next visit. As to the bullwhip……let me work on it.”
Billie laughed, shaking her head at him. “Y’know, I’ve been a fan of Bon Jovi a long time now, and I’d always thought you had to be probably the nicest of the guys. Seems like I was right.”
“Certainly the craziest - not so sure about the nicest.”
“Hey, don’t argue with the sick lady.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you have that for now.” Richie grinned. “But you won’t always be sick lady.” A sudden frown. “You won’t, right? I mean…….”
“Doctor Riviello seems to think that, with a little time to heal, I should be completely fine again.” She smirked. “Maybe what I told the prick - that would be Fabian, not the doctor, by the way - was right. That his dick was too fucking small.”
“Jesus! You told him that after he’d….raped you?”
“Actually, I think it was partway through.” Her eyes clouded. “I think that was what made him decide to move along from ‘normal’ rape……decide to…..to…….”
“Stoppit.” Richie said firmly, laying his big, tanned hand over her smaller but equally tanned one. “Not a victim, remember?”
“Not a victim.” She echoed, flipping her hand to squeeze his fingers before looking at him. “Thanks Richie.”
“Anytime, darlin’.” With his free hand, he reached to push a lock of dark hair off her face. “Any time at all.”
He kept hold of her hand, their fingers linked on the bed, and Billie didn’t even attempt to pull away. It felt good. Felt safe. Felt like she could trust him, and she liked that. She needed that right now.
After a few minutes, their companionable silence was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by it opening, the two detectives from before standing there.
“Ms Kelsall?” Said Detective Kellogg, smiling across at her and Richie. “If you’re feeling up to it, we need to take your statement?”
“Okay.” She replied instantly, and Richie gave her fingers another reassuring squeeze before releasing her.
“I’ll go find Jay? See how he’s doing.”
“Thanks Richie.” Billie’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “Again.”
“Told you - anytime.” He leaned down, touching his lips to her forehead lightly, whispering encouragement. “You can do this, Billie. Just remember - not a victim.”
“Not.” She repeated, unbelievably touched by his tenderness. “Can you……can you keep Jay away for a bit?”
“Sure. Though if he’s as stubborn as his……..” He cut off the words, but Billie looked at him steadily.
“It’s part of the ‘story’, Richie. It’ll come out soon enough. And you said he’s……”
“Yeah. They know.” He confirmed. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
He left the room, and the two detectives, having waited politely by the door, came to the bedside, pulling chairs up close. As was standard in rape cases, the female would take the lead, and Detective Kellogg smiled at Billie.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened, Ms Kelsall. What you can remember.”
“What I can remember?” She whispered, images flashing into her mind. “You think I could forget what happened?”
“Of course not. I’m sorry, I just meant……..”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant. And, please, my name is Billie.” She drew a deep breath. “It’s a kind of long story, so I need to start from the beginning, for it to make sense. Need to tell you why it happened.”
“Whole story is far better than bits and pieces.” Kellogg smiled again, pulling a recorder from her purse, holding it up. “We’ll record it, then we can have it typed up for you to check and sign, okay?”
“Okay.” Billie nodded, steeling herself to tell a story she’d hoped to never share. Not the whole, entire story, of course. Not the twenty-years-ago part, but just from the catalyst for this. “My son, Jay, plays for the Philadelphia Soul, and a couple of weeks ago he got hurt in a game……”
Chapter 62
“Do you what?” Jon was stunned. Okay, so Stephanie seemed to have calmed down from the instant hate, but now she wanted to play brothers and sisters with Jay? Seriously?
“I-I-I mean……” Steph stuttered her way into an explanation. God, what? He thinks I want to suddenly embrace the whole ‘I have a big brother’ thing? Puhleeze. A big brother who, until an hour ago, I thought was the hottest thing on the planet? That I wanted to…….uhh yeah, sure dad. She felt a wash of near-nausea as it sank in again that the guy she’d been lusting for since the first day she saw him at Wachovia, the hot guy she’d teased her school friends about, that she had more of a chance than they did, because of who her dad was……..that same hot guy was her brother! Okay, half brother, but still a blood relative. Just…….ewwwwwww!!
Jon could see the flickering emotions on her face, and he had a fairly accurate idea of what she was thinking. Not that he’d be the one to raise the subject - not exactly daddy-daughter stuff, discussing which guys she found attractive. At least not this daddy and daughter. He’d have been happy to do what Richie had always teased - put her into the nearest, best secured convent he could find. Anything to keep his little girl. But wasn’t that a sentiment common to every decent father?
“I meant, are you going to make some kind of public announcement? That he’s your…..son?” Steph’s eyes studied her dad’s face. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to do it before that guy who hurt Jay’s mom gets the chance to do it. So he can’t use that to try to get attention off what he did.”
Jon looked at his teenaged daughter with a new respect. Sure he knew perfectly well she was growing up - hell, it was hard to miss as she grew more beautiful and womanly every day - but this was the first time he’d realised, or understood, that she was growing up so fast mentally, too. Perhaps it was a side-effect of having a famous parent, that some of the childhood innocence was stripped away. Or perhaps it was down to her exposure to the media from the ‘other’ side, through her internship at the magazine. Either way, his daughter had a good handle on how things could be ‘spun’ in the media, and she’d caught onto his intention within about a nanosecond. Hell, she’d figured it out faster than Jon had made the decision.
“I was intending to, yes.” He replied carefully, watching for her reaction, not really surprised when she just nodded.
“I don’t like it, dad. I don’t like that you did this to mom, even if it was twenty years ago. I don’t like that we only got told because you were afraid of it hitting the papers.”
“Hey! Not true.” Jon protested. That stung. “I told you now because the last thing I wanted was for you to find out from the papers, or the TV. I wanted to be able to explain it to you and your brothers.” He sighed. “I did a great job of that, huh?”
There really wasn’t much Stephanie could say to that.
Jay had been in the hospital room for a few minutes, and Richie was starting to get antsy. Not that Billie was his responsibility or anything, but dammit he considered her a friend and wanted to know how she was. He supposed it was a good thing that Jay hadn’t been kicked straight back out by some protective nurse, and there was that call from Kadie when she’d said Billie was okay, but……..the stubborn streak in him was possibly only surpassed by the one that ran through Jon. And clearly also through Jay. Reaching a decision, Richie pushed himself away from the wall he leaned on and walked over to the door, knocking gently before pushing it open.
“Hey.” He murmured, not wanting to disturb Billie if she was asleep, looking for Jay. “How’s she……wow!”
He pushed the door wider, astonished to see Billie sitting almost upright, her color good and a smile on her lips.
“Richie!” She grinned more broadly, holding out a hand. Clearly, now that the physical side was improving, the feisty cowgirl was coming back to the fore.
“Well, shit!” He swung the door closed behind him, advancing across the room to the bed, seeing the happy grin on Jay’s face, too. “Talk about a fast recovery!”
He leaned over the bed, hugging her carefully, and Billie reached her arms as far as she could around his broad body, rubbing her palms on his back.
“Thank you.” She whispered.
“For what?” Richie drew back, frowning slightly in confusion.
“For……..for finding me? For helping me?” Her voice dropped. “For saving me, from what Doctor Riviello has said.”
“If I hadn’t let you go……..this wouldn’t have even happened.” He said, voicing what had been niggling at the back of his brain since he found her bleeding. His wandering thoughts were interrupted by Jay’s voice.
“Hey! Richie, you saved her. And as for ‘letting her go’?” He chuckled, his eyes playful as he looked at his mom. “Have you ever tried to stop my mom doing something?”
“Hey!” It was Billie’s turn, stretching a hand toward her laughing son. “Get over here so I can smack you!”
“No way!” Jay chuckled, and Richie finally joined in the laughter, his feelings of guilt eased now that he’d made himself say it.
“Coward.” Richie smirked, moving back from the bed. “But I don’t blame you!”
“Ganging up on me already?” Billie groused, but her eyes were sparkling. “Guess I’m officially getting better then - the teasing has started again.”
“Hey, they don’t tease……..” Jay began, and she finished it for him.
“…..they don’t love. I know.” She grinned at Richie. “As you can see, I raised him to be very respectful of his elders.”
“Ahhh………so that’s why he keeps hitting people?” Richie laughed. “First Jon, then Fabian.” He managed to imbue the name with his utter disgust.
“Yeah, well, the first I can sort of understand.” Billie said. “And the second I downright applaud.”
“Hear hear.” Richie echoed softly.
“I-I-I mean……” Steph stuttered her way into an explanation. God, what? He thinks I want to suddenly embrace the whole ‘I have a big brother’ thing? Puhleeze. A big brother who, until an hour ago, I thought was the hottest thing on the planet? That I wanted to…….uhh yeah, sure dad. She felt a wash of near-nausea as it sank in again that the guy she’d been lusting for since the first day she saw him at Wachovia, the hot guy she’d teased her school friends about, that she had more of a chance than they did, because of who her dad was……..that same hot guy was her brother! Okay, half brother, but still a blood relative. Just…….ewwwwwww!!
Jon could see the flickering emotions on her face, and he had a fairly accurate idea of what she was thinking. Not that he’d be the one to raise the subject - not exactly daddy-daughter stuff, discussing which guys she found attractive. At least not this daddy and daughter. He’d have been happy to do what Richie had always teased - put her into the nearest, best secured convent he could find. Anything to keep his little girl. But wasn’t that a sentiment common to every decent father?
“I meant, are you going to make some kind of public announcement? That he’s your…..son?” Steph’s eyes studied her dad’s face. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to do it before that guy who hurt Jay’s mom gets the chance to do it. So he can’t use that to try to get attention off what he did.”
Jon looked at his teenaged daughter with a new respect. Sure he knew perfectly well she was growing up - hell, it was hard to miss as she grew more beautiful and womanly every day - but this was the first time he’d realised, or understood, that she was growing up so fast mentally, too. Perhaps it was a side-effect of having a famous parent, that some of the childhood innocence was stripped away. Or perhaps it was down to her exposure to the media from the ‘other’ side, through her internship at the magazine. Either way, his daughter had a good handle on how things could be ‘spun’ in the media, and she’d caught onto his intention within about a nanosecond. Hell, she’d figured it out faster than Jon had made the decision.
“I was intending to, yes.” He replied carefully, watching for her reaction, not really surprised when she just nodded.
“I don’t like it, dad. I don’t like that you did this to mom, even if it was twenty years ago. I don’t like that we only got told because you were afraid of it hitting the papers.”
“Hey! Not true.” Jon protested. That stung. “I told you now because the last thing I wanted was for you to find out from the papers, or the TV. I wanted to be able to explain it to you and your brothers.” He sighed. “I did a great job of that, huh?”
There really wasn’t much Stephanie could say to that.
Jay had been in the hospital room for a few minutes, and Richie was starting to get antsy. Not that Billie was his responsibility or anything, but dammit he considered her a friend and wanted to know how she was. He supposed it was a good thing that Jay hadn’t been kicked straight back out by some protective nurse, and there was that call from Kadie when she’d said Billie was okay, but……..the stubborn streak in him was possibly only surpassed by the one that ran through Jon. And clearly also through Jay. Reaching a decision, Richie pushed himself away from the wall he leaned on and walked over to the door, knocking gently before pushing it open.
“Hey.” He murmured, not wanting to disturb Billie if she was asleep, looking for Jay. “How’s she……wow!”
He pushed the door wider, astonished to see Billie sitting almost upright, her color good and a smile on her lips.
“Richie!” She grinned more broadly, holding out a hand. Clearly, now that the physical side was improving, the feisty cowgirl was coming back to the fore.
“Well, shit!” He swung the door closed behind him, advancing across the room to the bed, seeing the happy grin on Jay’s face, too. “Talk about a fast recovery!”
He leaned over the bed, hugging her carefully, and Billie reached her arms as far as she could around his broad body, rubbing her palms on his back.
“Thank you.” She whispered.
“For what?” Richie drew back, frowning slightly in confusion.
“For……..for finding me? For helping me?” Her voice dropped. “For saving me, from what Doctor Riviello has said.”
“If I hadn’t let you go……..this wouldn’t have even happened.” He said, voicing what had been niggling at the back of his brain since he found her bleeding. His wandering thoughts were interrupted by Jay’s voice.
“Hey! Richie, you saved her. And as for ‘letting her go’?” He chuckled, his eyes playful as he looked at his mom. “Have you ever tried to stop my mom doing something?”
“Hey!” It was Billie’s turn, stretching a hand toward her laughing son. “Get over here so I can smack you!”
“No way!” Jay chuckled, and Richie finally joined in the laughter, his feelings of guilt eased now that he’d made himself say it.
“Coward.” Richie smirked, moving back from the bed. “But I don’t blame you!”
“Ganging up on me already?” Billie groused, but her eyes were sparkling. “Guess I’m officially getting better then - the teasing has started again.”
“Hey, they don’t tease……..” Jay began, and she finished it for him.
“…..they don’t love. I know.” She grinned at Richie. “As you can see, I raised him to be very respectful of his elders.”
“Ahhh………so that’s why he keeps hitting people?” Richie laughed. “First Jon, then Fabian.” He managed to imbue the name with his utter disgust.
“Yeah, well, the first I can sort of understand.” Billie said. “And the second I downright applaud.”
“Hear hear.” Richie echoed softly.
Chapter 60
“Stephanie.” Jon said gently, afraid of provoking another outburst.
His daughter looked at him seriously. And a little sadly. It was always hard when those shining visions of a perfect parent were so suddenly and irretrievably shattered.
“Dad.” She replied softly.
Dad. She called me dad. Oh, Jesus, thank you….. Jon was under no illusions that he still had a lot of work to do to repair his relationship with his daughter, but the simple fact of her calling him ‘dad’, after the screams of how ‘her dad’ wouldn’t do that……..it was a start.
“Sit with me?”
Without waiting for her to agree or not, Jon sat on the couch, looking over to where she still stood uncertainly. After a moment - perhaps remembering some promise to her mother that she’d give him a chance to explain - she relented and came over to sit on the same couch, half turned on the seat so she faced him.
“I love you, Stephy. You know that, right?” Jon waited until she nodded, then ploughed forward. “And I’d never - ever - do anything to hurt you on purpose. You, or your brothers, or your mom.”
“So what happened, dad?” She blurted, then flushed. “I mean, I don’t need, y’know details, but…….you and Billie. Jay. How? Why?”
Jon looked at her consideringly, wondering just how much he should explain to her. Uhhh, gee, ALL OF IT, asshole? Keeping secrets has worked soooo fuckin’ well - maybe we should just try the whole truth. Well, okay, except for maybe one detail. Not sayin’ it, and I doubt if Steph needs - wants - to hear how daddy couldn’t get it up.
“From the beginning?” He asked carefully, and Steph just nodded again. “Okay. From the beginning.”
Richie wandered aimlessly around the living room of Jay’s apartment while the younger man showered. Showered as best he could with both hands wrapped in bandages. Looked like another patch-up job for Desi when he got to the hospital. When he emerged from the bedroom, clean and wearing fresh clothes, Jay found Richie holding a photograph - the photo of him and his mom. Neither of them knew, of course, that it had also drawn Jon’s attention, the day he and Billie met at the apartment, but Richie’s reaction to it was similar, as all he could see was the similarity to his friend.
“My favorite picture of me and mom.” Jay said softly, and Richie turned with a grin.
“It’s a great photo. I just……” He shook his head wonderingly. “I just don’t get how none of us ever saw it. The resemblance, I mean.”
“I guess because nobody was looking for it.” Jay shrugged as he stuffed his feet back into a pair of battered cowboy boots - his hands hurt too bad to try tying shoelaces, and there was no way in hell he was asking Richie to tie his shoes for him!
“Ready?” Richie laid the picture down again.
“Yeah.”
Jay quickly called for a cab - their detective-driver had left them at the apartment building, driving off with their thanks, and also with Richie’s card. She had offered to wait, to drive them to the hospital, but they said no. Mostly because that would’ve meant her coming up to the apartment to wait - she wasn’t some cabbie they’d leave sitting in the car - and that would have put a real crimp in any attempts to talk about the current situation. They instinctively liked her, and trusted her, but Jay’s parentage wasn’t a matter for public information. Not yet. And they’d keep it that way as long as they could.
On arriving at the hospital, though, Jay was dismayed to see a burgeoning media circus, and he turned to Richie.
“You don’t think………” He couldn’t finish the thought. The thought that, already, Nick had spilled the news about who his father was - anything to divert attention from his own crime.
“No.” Richie looked out of the cab window. “I think they’ve just moved it on over here after finding out Billie is your mom. I don’t think it’s anything else.” Because if it were about Jon, there’d be a shitload more of them. “Just stay cool. Lots of ‘no comment’ until we get inside, yeah?”
“Okay.” Jay mumbled. Dammit, but when he’d gone into professional sports, sure he’d hoped for popularity - maybe even fame - but he’d never wanted this kind of attention. He just wanted to play football! Okay, so right now it was Arena Football, when his dream was of a spot in an NFL team, but he was young and on his way up. He could wait a little while for one of the ‘big boys’ to notice him. Meantime, he was gaining in strength and experience, which could only stand him in good stead for his future playing career.
So, when they got out of the cab, he followed Richie’s suggestion - quiet, polite……but very definite on the ‘no comment’. He made it to the hospital doors before his - not quite temper, but nature - took hold, and he turned to face the reporters.
“Please.” He said firmly, his voice not raised yet clearly heard. “Please. My mom is sick and I just want to go see her. I…….I ask that you respect her privacy and give us some space. When she’s better - and if she wants to - I’m sure she’ll speak with you.”
Richie had grimaced when Jay turned to face the reporters. Seemed the boy had inherited his father’s stubborn streak all the way. Why couldn’t he just listen to the advice of someone who had way too much experience of dealing with the press? Then, though, Richie was pleasantly surprised, firstly at Jay’s quiet, heartfelt request for understanding, then even more so at the reporters backing off slightly. Which probably wouldn’t have happened if Jay’s attitude had been ‘fuck off’ rather than ‘please be nice’.
“Thank you.” Jay said with a small smile, before turning and heading into the hospital. Richie just smiled as he followed him into the building.
“Sorry.” Jay muttered as they strode along the hallway, glancing sideways at Richie. “I know you said to keep it to ‘no comment’, but……”
“Hey, you did good, Jay.” Richie reassured him, punching the elevator button.
They rode up to Billie’s floor in companionable silence, then when they reached the room Richie paused.
“I’ll wait here.”
“Thanks, Richie.”
Jay went into the room, finding his mom sitting almost upright, flicking through a magazine. Her color was good and as the door opened and she saw it was him, a beaming smile broke out. His mom’s smile, not the pale, wan smile of the sick woman he’d first seen in this room. She dropped the magazine and extended her arms, and he was only too happy to walk over, hugging her as gently as he could, feeling the strength in her arms again as she pulled him close.
“I’m so happy you’re out of jail.” She said against his ear, then gave a brief, tighter squeeze. “But I’m very very proud of why you ended up there. As weird as that sounds.”
She released him, and Jay chuckled.
“Mom, from you, weird makes perfect sense. Always has.”
His daughter looked at him seriously. And a little sadly. It was always hard when those shining visions of a perfect parent were so suddenly and irretrievably shattered.
“Dad.” She replied softly.
Dad. She called me dad. Oh, Jesus, thank you….. Jon was under no illusions that he still had a lot of work to do to repair his relationship with his daughter, but the simple fact of her calling him ‘dad’, after the screams of how ‘her dad’ wouldn’t do that……..it was a start.
“Sit with me?”
Without waiting for her to agree or not, Jon sat on the couch, looking over to where she still stood uncertainly. After a moment - perhaps remembering some promise to her mother that she’d give him a chance to explain - she relented and came over to sit on the same couch, half turned on the seat so she faced him.
“I love you, Stephy. You know that, right?” Jon waited until she nodded, then ploughed forward. “And I’d never - ever - do anything to hurt you on purpose. You, or your brothers, or your mom.”
“So what happened, dad?” She blurted, then flushed. “I mean, I don’t need, y’know details, but…….you and Billie. Jay. How? Why?”
Jon looked at her consideringly, wondering just how much he should explain to her. Uhhh, gee, ALL OF IT, asshole? Keeping secrets has worked soooo fuckin’ well - maybe we should just try the whole truth. Well, okay, except for maybe one detail. Not sayin’ it, and I doubt if Steph needs - wants - to hear how daddy couldn’t get it up.
“From the beginning?” He asked carefully, and Steph just nodded again. “Okay. From the beginning.”
Richie wandered aimlessly around the living room of Jay’s apartment while the younger man showered. Showered as best he could with both hands wrapped in bandages. Looked like another patch-up job for Desi when he got to the hospital. When he emerged from the bedroom, clean and wearing fresh clothes, Jay found Richie holding a photograph - the photo of him and his mom. Neither of them knew, of course, that it had also drawn Jon’s attention, the day he and Billie met at the apartment, but Richie’s reaction to it was similar, as all he could see was the similarity to his friend.
“My favorite picture of me and mom.” Jay said softly, and Richie turned with a grin.
“It’s a great photo. I just……” He shook his head wonderingly. “I just don’t get how none of us ever saw it. The resemblance, I mean.”
“I guess because nobody was looking for it.” Jay shrugged as he stuffed his feet back into a pair of battered cowboy boots - his hands hurt too bad to try tying shoelaces, and there was no way in hell he was asking Richie to tie his shoes for him!
“Ready?” Richie laid the picture down again.
“Yeah.”
Jay quickly called for a cab - their detective-driver had left them at the apartment building, driving off with their thanks, and also with Richie’s card. She had offered to wait, to drive them to the hospital, but they said no. Mostly because that would’ve meant her coming up to the apartment to wait - she wasn’t some cabbie they’d leave sitting in the car - and that would have put a real crimp in any attempts to talk about the current situation. They instinctively liked her, and trusted her, but Jay’s parentage wasn’t a matter for public information. Not yet. And they’d keep it that way as long as they could.
On arriving at the hospital, though, Jay was dismayed to see a burgeoning media circus, and he turned to Richie.
“You don’t think………” He couldn’t finish the thought. The thought that, already, Nick had spilled the news about who his father was - anything to divert attention from his own crime.
“No.” Richie looked out of the cab window. “I think they’ve just moved it on over here after finding out Billie is your mom. I don’t think it’s anything else.” Because if it were about Jon, there’d be a shitload more of them. “Just stay cool. Lots of ‘no comment’ until we get inside, yeah?”
“Okay.” Jay mumbled. Dammit, but when he’d gone into professional sports, sure he’d hoped for popularity - maybe even fame - but he’d never wanted this kind of attention. He just wanted to play football! Okay, so right now it was Arena Football, when his dream was of a spot in an NFL team, but he was young and on his way up. He could wait a little while for one of the ‘big boys’ to notice him. Meantime, he was gaining in strength and experience, which could only stand him in good stead for his future playing career.
So, when they got out of the cab, he followed Richie’s suggestion - quiet, polite……but very definite on the ‘no comment’. He made it to the hospital doors before his - not quite temper, but nature - took hold, and he turned to face the reporters.
“Please.” He said firmly, his voice not raised yet clearly heard. “Please. My mom is sick and I just want to go see her. I…….I ask that you respect her privacy and give us some space. When she’s better - and if she wants to - I’m sure she’ll speak with you.”
Richie had grimaced when Jay turned to face the reporters. Seemed the boy had inherited his father’s stubborn streak all the way. Why couldn’t he just listen to the advice of someone who had way too much experience of dealing with the press? Then, though, Richie was pleasantly surprised, firstly at Jay’s quiet, heartfelt request for understanding, then even more so at the reporters backing off slightly. Which probably wouldn’t have happened if Jay’s attitude had been ‘fuck off’ rather than ‘please be nice’.
“Thank you.” Jay said with a small smile, before turning and heading into the hospital. Richie just smiled as he followed him into the building.
“Sorry.” Jay muttered as they strode along the hallway, glancing sideways at Richie. “I know you said to keep it to ‘no comment’, but……”
“Hey, you did good, Jay.” Richie reassured him, punching the elevator button.
They rode up to Billie’s floor in companionable silence, then when they reached the room Richie paused.
“I’ll wait here.”
“Thanks, Richie.”
Jay went into the room, finding his mom sitting almost upright, flicking through a magazine. Her color was good and as the door opened and she saw it was him, a beaming smile broke out. His mom’s smile, not the pale, wan smile of the sick woman he’d first seen in this room. She dropped the magazine and extended her arms, and he was only too happy to walk over, hugging her as gently as he could, feeling the strength in her arms again as she pulled him close.
“I’m so happy you’re out of jail.” She said against his ear, then gave a brief, tighter squeeze. “But I’m very very proud of why you ended up there. As weird as that sounds.”
She released him, and Jay chuckled.
“Mom, from you, weird makes perfect sense. Always has.”
Chapter 59
Sitting in the backseat of the car, waiting to be connected to his mom’s ward, Jay glanced at Richie as the guy’s voice changed, moving from concerned adult-to-adult into something far lighter. Something that told him Richie was talking to one of Jon’s kids. God, one of my….my brothers. This is just too fuckin’ weird…….. His reverie was interrupted by a voice on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hi. This is Jay Kelsall, I……..”
“Baby, it’s me.”
Now he recognised the voice. Desi. And he didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared shitless that she’d answered.
“Desi.” He breathed. “What’s……what’s happening?”
“She’s okay, Jay.” Desi said firmly, leaning against the wall by the desk, glad the nurse had asked if she wanted to speak with him, when they heard who was calling. “I was near to the desk, and when they said it was Billie’s son calling………well, the nurse here asked if I wanted to speak to you first.”
“She’s really okay? But the………she was bleeding again.”
“She was, but she isn’t now. Turns out that most of the reason she passed out wasn’t the bleeding - it was the shock of seeing him in her room. She did tear out a couple of stitches, but Doctor Riviello has fixed that, and she’s fine. She’s conscious again and just worried for you.”
“Thank God.” Jay murmured, laying his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.
At the soft words, Richie turned his head, finding it strangely disorientating to listen to Jon while watching his near look-alike son. Especially when he’d lay money that both of them were in similar positions right now. He’d known Jon long enough to be able to fairly accurately guess what he’d do in any given situation, and he was pretty sure his friend was right now sitting pinching the bridge of his nose, too. Weirdness all around.
“Hold on.” He muttered to Jon, lowering the phone. “How’s she doin’, Jay?”
“Hmmm?” Jay turned to look at Richie, blinking away the slight blur in his vision from pinching so hard on his nose. “Mom’s okay, Richie. She’s awake and she’s gonna be fine.”
“That’s great!” Richie grinned, reaching to clasp Jay’s shoulder as he twisted the phone to his mouth again. “Jon?”
In his New York apartment, Jon ran his hand into his hair. “Yeah, Rich?”
“Billie’s okay. She’s gonna be okay.”
“Glad somebody is.” He mumbled sullenly, then gave himself a swift mental kick in the tail. “Sorry, bro. That’s great news - really. Tell Jay I………” Tell him what, asshole? Tell him you just fucked your entire life for him and his mom? Tell him, since the rest of your kids hate you, how ‘bout he lets you play daddy?
“Why donchya tell him yourself?” Richie said, turning to look at Jay again.
“No!” Jon snapped. “Rich, I can’t. Not right now. I need to…..to try to salvage whatever I can of my family. Tell them both I’m thinking of them, and I’ll be in touch.”
Richie frowned. Run away much, Jonny?
“Please, bro.” Jon said quietly. “Richie?”
“Yeah, okay.” Richie said, backing off for now. Okay, so Jon had enough shit to deal with right now. Not like he could do much for Billie right now, and he’d already done what he could for Jay, getting him lawyered up so fast.
“Richie - can I speak to him?” Jay asked quietly, and Richie ran his teeth over his lower lip.
“Jon? Jay wants to speak to you.”
“Shit.” Jon breathed deeply. “Okay, Rich. Lemme talk to him.”
When Richie nodded, Jay smiled before speaking quickly into his own phone.
“Baby, I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jay.” Desi replied.
While Richie had been talking to Jon, Jay had filled her in on what had happened, though he’d skirted too many of the details right now, in deference to the Detective driving them. The woman who’d laid her job on the line for him. He still didn’t understand why. Right now, though, all Desi really cared about was the news that Jay was a free man, and that he was on his way back to the hospital. Okay, not entirely accurate. All she cared about was that he was on his way back to her.
When the connection clicked off, she slowly laid the phone back into the cradle before smiling at the nurse who’d given her the call. Dragging herself upright, she headed back to Billie’s room to pass on the news of Jay’s release.
Jay took the phone from Richie with a nod of thanks.
“Bo……..uh, Jon?”
“Hi, Jay.”
“Sorry. I know - well, I guess from what I heard Richie say that this is a bad time. But I just wanted to say thanks. For getting me a lawyer. And everything.”
“No problem, Jay. Hell, you did what any guy would do - you were protecting your mom.”
“I guess. But you still didn’t have to……..and it sounds like you have enough to deal with…….”
“Not your fault, Jay. Trust me on that. There’s only one person to blame for all this, and that’s the prick who put your mom in that hospital bed. She and I were…….were working this out, to be best for everyone, but he……..fuck!”
Even Jon wasn’t sure whether the ‘fuck’ was against Nick Fabian for pushing him into telling his kids this way, or just for his brutal assault on a woman who was only trying to protect two families. Either way, it was Fabian’s fault. That part he was sure of.
“And that wasn’t your fault.” Jay said, stunning Richie and Jon. And himself. Wow. Where’d that come from? When did I get so fuckin’ understanding and philosophical?
“No?” Jon muttered, then his eyes widened as he saw someone step into the doorway, walking toward him.
“Jon?” Dorothea said softly. “Stephanie would like to speak to you.”
“She…………” Jon swallowed heavily, scouring his wife’s face for a hint of Stephanie’s mood.
Dot understood his worry, and she inclined her head a tiny bit - not quite a nod, but a somehow inviting, understanding gesture.
“She wants to talk. She wants…….she needs……..to understand exactly what happened, Jon.” Dot smiled slightly, but there was pain there, too. “I’ve explained that……that nobody is entirely innocent in this - neither of us - and she wants to hear it from you.”
Jon could feel his heart pounding. Okay, so this wasn’t going to be pleasant, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be easy. But just maybe he could stop his little girl from hating him. Just maybe he could make her understand.
“Okay, Dot. Is she coming in here, or………?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll send her along.” Dot left the room, and Jon turned his attention back to the neglected phone call.
“Sorry, Jay, I gotta……..”
“I know. I heard.” Jay lowered his voice slightly. “I hope it works out.”
“Me too.” Jon whispered. “Bye.”
By the time Stephanie entered the room, her face obviously freshly washed to clean away the tearstains, Jon had his phone switched off and was waiting nervously in the middle of the room.
Here goes nothing. He thought helplessly.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hi. This is Jay Kelsall, I……..”
“Baby, it’s me.”
Now he recognised the voice. Desi. And he didn’t know whether to be relieved or scared shitless that she’d answered.
“Desi.” He breathed. “What’s……what’s happening?”
“She’s okay, Jay.” Desi said firmly, leaning against the wall by the desk, glad the nurse had asked if she wanted to speak with him, when they heard who was calling. “I was near to the desk, and when they said it was Billie’s son calling………well, the nurse here asked if I wanted to speak to you first.”
“She’s really okay? But the………she was bleeding again.”
“She was, but she isn’t now. Turns out that most of the reason she passed out wasn’t the bleeding - it was the shock of seeing him in her room. She did tear out a couple of stitches, but Doctor Riviello has fixed that, and she’s fine. She’s conscious again and just worried for you.”
“Thank God.” Jay murmured, laying his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.
At the soft words, Richie turned his head, finding it strangely disorientating to listen to Jon while watching his near look-alike son. Especially when he’d lay money that both of them were in similar positions right now. He’d known Jon long enough to be able to fairly accurately guess what he’d do in any given situation, and he was pretty sure his friend was right now sitting pinching the bridge of his nose, too. Weirdness all around.
“Hold on.” He muttered to Jon, lowering the phone. “How’s she doin’, Jay?”
“Hmmm?” Jay turned to look at Richie, blinking away the slight blur in his vision from pinching so hard on his nose. “Mom’s okay, Richie. She’s awake and she’s gonna be fine.”
“That’s great!” Richie grinned, reaching to clasp Jay’s shoulder as he twisted the phone to his mouth again. “Jon?”
In his New York apartment, Jon ran his hand into his hair. “Yeah, Rich?”
“Billie’s okay. She’s gonna be okay.”
“Glad somebody is.” He mumbled sullenly, then gave himself a swift mental kick in the tail. “Sorry, bro. That’s great news - really. Tell Jay I………” Tell him what, asshole? Tell him you just fucked your entire life for him and his mom? Tell him, since the rest of your kids hate you, how ‘bout he lets you play daddy?
“Why donchya tell him yourself?” Richie said, turning to look at Jay again.
“No!” Jon snapped. “Rich, I can’t. Not right now. I need to…..to try to salvage whatever I can of my family. Tell them both I’m thinking of them, and I’ll be in touch.”
Richie frowned. Run away much, Jonny?
“Please, bro.” Jon said quietly. “Richie?”
“Yeah, okay.” Richie said, backing off for now. Okay, so Jon had enough shit to deal with right now. Not like he could do much for Billie right now, and he’d already done what he could for Jay, getting him lawyered up so fast.
“Richie - can I speak to him?” Jay asked quietly, and Richie ran his teeth over his lower lip.
“Jon? Jay wants to speak to you.”
“Shit.” Jon breathed deeply. “Okay, Rich. Lemme talk to him.”
When Richie nodded, Jay smiled before speaking quickly into his own phone.
“Baby, I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jay.” Desi replied.
While Richie had been talking to Jon, Jay had filled her in on what had happened, though he’d skirted too many of the details right now, in deference to the Detective driving them. The woman who’d laid her job on the line for him. He still didn’t understand why. Right now, though, all Desi really cared about was the news that Jay was a free man, and that he was on his way back to the hospital. Okay, not entirely accurate. All she cared about was that he was on his way back to her.
When the connection clicked off, she slowly laid the phone back into the cradle before smiling at the nurse who’d given her the call. Dragging herself upright, she headed back to Billie’s room to pass on the news of Jay’s release.
Jay took the phone from Richie with a nod of thanks.
“Bo……..uh, Jon?”
“Hi, Jay.”
“Sorry. I know - well, I guess from what I heard Richie say that this is a bad time. But I just wanted to say thanks. For getting me a lawyer. And everything.”
“No problem, Jay. Hell, you did what any guy would do - you were protecting your mom.”
“I guess. But you still didn’t have to……..and it sounds like you have enough to deal with…….”
“Not your fault, Jay. Trust me on that. There’s only one person to blame for all this, and that’s the prick who put your mom in that hospital bed. She and I were…….were working this out, to be best for everyone, but he……..fuck!”
Even Jon wasn’t sure whether the ‘fuck’ was against Nick Fabian for pushing him into telling his kids this way, or just for his brutal assault on a woman who was only trying to protect two families. Either way, it was Fabian’s fault. That part he was sure of.
“And that wasn’t your fault.” Jay said, stunning Richie and Jon. And himself. Wow. Where’d that come from? When did I get so fuckin’ understanding and philosophical?
“No?” Jon muttered, then his eyes widened as he saw someone step into the doorway, walking toward him.
“Jon?” Dorothea said softly. “Stephanie would like to speak to you.”
“She…………” Jon swallowed heavily, scouring his wife’s face for a hint of Stephanie’s mood.
Dot understood his worry, and she inclined her head a tiny bit - not quite a nod, but a somehow inviting, understanding gesture.
“She wants to talk. She wants…….she needs……..to understand exactly what happened, Jon.” Dot smiled slightly, but there was pain there, too. “I’ve explained that……that nobody is entirely innocent in this - neither of us - and she wants to hear it from you.”
Jon could feel his heart pounding. Okay, so this wasn’t going to be pleasant, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be easy. But just maybe he could stop his little girl from hating him. Just maybe he could make her understand.
“Okay, Dot. Is she coming in here, or………?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll send her along.” Dot left the room, and Jon turned his attention back to the neglected phone call.
“Sorry, Jay, I gotta……..”
“I know. I heard.” Jay lowered his voice slightly. “I hope it works out.”
“Me too.” Jon whispered. “Bye.”
By the time Stephanie entered the room, her face obviously freshly washed to clean away the tearstains, Jon had his phone switched off and was waiting nervously in the middle of the room.
Here goes nothing. He thought helplessly.
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