Molly understood in a way no one who hadn’t lived with an addict could. At some point, the emotional drain snapped something inside you. “The third time I found my mother in a pool of her own vomit,” she said, confessing a secret not even Charlotte knew, “I hesitated before calling an ambulance.” It had only been a matter of seconds, but Molly would never forget who she’d almost become as a result of her mother’s addiction.
The hesitation shamed her, but Molly had long since forgiven the worn-out and scared teenage girl who’d had to act the responsible adult at far too young an age. “I just couldn’t take the cycle of remorse and promises, the one or two days of normality before the inevitable slide back into the bottle.”
“Ah, baby.” Fox stood to wrap her in his arms, his cheek pressed against her temple. “It wears you down until you start to ask, what’s the fucking point?”
Molly nodded, tears choking up her throat. “With Abe, he can’t have been drinking all this time,” she said, soothing him with slow strokes of her hand down the rigid line of his spine. “Close as we have to travel together, we’d have noticed. You’d have noticed.”
“I hope to hell you’re right.” Exhaling a ragged breath, he tightened his hold and they just stood there, taking strength from one another in a brutal world.
Chapter 35
Discharged after a night in the hospital, Abe was back onstage the next night. Tension lingered in the air, but the band stuck together as the shows continued to go by. When—out of nowhere—David was hit with news that threatened to tear down the foundations of his world, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Fox, Noah, and Abe had his back.
The laughter took longer to return, but it came in time, with Abe going cold turkey on the booze. “I don’t know if I’d be able to stop,” he said one night to Fox while Molly was in the room. “So better I don’t start.”
Molly was hopeful he was telling the truth—that the descent into alcohol had been a one-off thing and not the sign of a new addiction. Determined to help in a way she hadn’t been able to help her mother, she cornered Abe before the Manhattan concert. “Want to go shopping?”
He rolled his beautiful dark brown eyes at her, ridiculously gorgeous lashes throwing shadows on his cheeks. “Don’t you have Fox for that?”
“Yes, but I want to buy something for Fox.” He’d worn the leather cuff at several concerts, a silent symbol of his pleasure, and she wanted to find other small surprises. “You’re his friend, you know what he likes.”
“Take Noah. Fashion plate likes shopping.”
“You’re the fashion plate, not Noah,” Molly pointed out. “Anyway, he’s keeping Fox distracted while I go shopping. And David,” she said, cutting off his next excuse, “is with Thea.” Her sister had flown in this morning and disappeared into David’s room; the two had gone through a tough time over the past week, needed alone time.
“What’s up with David and Thea?” Abe narrowed his eyes. “They sort out the BS over that ridiculous claim?”
“Come with me and maybe I’ll share what I know.”
He still looked surly as he hauled himself out of the armchair he’d been sprawled in. “Now I have to put on my disguise.”
Curious, Molly watched as the usually sleekly dressed male disappeared into his room and returned wearing an honest-to-God one-piece jumpsuit in black fleece with yellow smiley faces. He’d paired the monstrosity with sheepskin boots and donned a wig with knotted dreads that hung about his face. Each dread was capped off with a tiny pink barrette shaped like a butterfly.
Her jaw fell open. “No, seriously? You’re going to walk out on the street in that?”
“People run when they see me coming. It’s a repeller disguise.” Grinning, he slipped his hands into the pockets of the one-piece no one should’ve ever made for a grown man. “Where’s your disguise?”
“I don’t need one.” Thankfully, her elevator-photo notoriety had faded quickly, especially with the gossip sites and magazines focusing on the “secret” Carina-Fox relationship. Grr… “Ponytail, sunglasses, cap, and I’m set.”
“Then I dare you to walk with me.” Abe crooked his arm.
“I’m no chicken.” Sliding her arm into his, she headed out into the noise and color and vibrancy that was Manhattan.
Abe was the band member she’d spent the least amount of time with, but he proved good company, even when a bus full of international tourists swarmed him for photos. Posing patiently, he told them he was a clown on his day off, his expression deadpan, while Molly attempted not to collapse in a fit of giggles. The photos she took were priceless.
It was on the way back to the hotel that he said, “You trying to become my friend, Molly?” A laid-back comment with a steely undertone.
“Yes.” He was too smart for anything but honesty. “I know the band is tight, but you’re guys. You’d rather shoot yourselves in the family jewels than talk about feelings, and sometimes even big, tough guys have feelings.” As with her mother, Abe’s problems seemed to result from an attempt to drown emotional pain.
“You got balls. No wonder Fox likes you.” Slinging an arm around her shoulders, he held her to his side. “I had a shrink at the rehab center. Didn’t talk to him. What makes you think I’ll talk to you?”
“You don’t have to talk to me, Abe. I just wanted you to know I’m here if you ever decide to acknowledge that you do in fact experience these mysterious things called feelings.”
“You think that’ll stop me ending up in the hospital?”
“Only you can do that,” she said bluntly. “If you manage to mess up in spite of a rock-solid support network, then you’re a self-destructive idiot.”
“Don’t hold back now.” A hard-eyed comment as they snuck into the hotel through a back entrance.
“Lies don’t help anyone.”
He walked with her to the suite she shared with Fox. “I’ll try not to be an idiot,” he said at the door, no humor on his face. “Hey, Moll.”
She stopped with the door partly open. “Yes?”
“Why bother?”
“Because you’re my family now.” She’d lost one already, couldn’t bear to see this one fall apart too. Last time, she’d been young and scared and alone. This time, she was an adult who was learning her own strength—and she had Fox.
A month into the tour and three weeks after Abe’s binge, all the tension had dissipated and Molly felt at home with the entire group. The crew teased her good-naturedly now and then about being an “intern” but said they’d have her back anytime. She did still pitch in around her own work—which was gathering steam, word of her skills spreading through the recommendations of satisfied clients.
It felt as if all was right with her world as she and Fox walked to their suite after the Chicago concert. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the feel of thousands of people singing along to the music, the thundering power of it indescribable. No wonder Fox remained wired up afterward, sometimes for hours.
“I want you naked the instant after we walk through the door,” he said, his body heat kissing her skin. “On your hands and knees.”
Her face flushed. Sex was always hard and fast the first time when he got like this. Then he’d go slow, every ounce of that untamed energy focused only on her as they explored one another and their fantasies. There’d been scarves involved last time, and he was playfully threatening to buy fur-lined handcuffs. But he was generous with his own body, too, letting her kiss and caress and pet to her heart’s content—just not at the start. Wired as he was, he didn’t have the patience.
Smiling hello at the private security guard assigned to monitor this floor, the other members of the band in suites just down from theirs, Molly walked inside. Fox paused for a second to say something to the guard.