A/N: Thanks to those of you reading this story. I know I write long chapters which aren't always everyone's cup of tea. Hang in there with this one. Things are getting rock-bottom-y and dark but I promise I have a purpose. Replies are always appreciated and welcomed.
Juliette stood on Deacon's porch and rang the bell. He'd invited her over for dinner. She held a glass bowl in her hands. The door swung open and Maddie was on the other side.
"Juliette!" She gave her a huge smile.
"Hey, girl," Juliette said, smiling back.
"Come in. Deacon's just putting the barbeque sauce on the chicken." Maddie bounced ahead of Juliette. "Look who's here!"
"Hey, darlin'," Deacon said. "Welcome."
"Thanks for having me." She held up the bowl. "I brought fruit salad."
"Nice. Is that from that fancy grocery store near your place?"
"No. I made it."
Deacon gave her a glance.
"I can cut up fruit. Although I guess the fruit is from that fancy store." Juliette hadn't minded the task; it gave her something to focus on. Her trip to Denmark was only a couple of days away. She put the bowl on his kitchen counter.
"It's just the three of us tonight. Scarlett's at the Bluebird," Deacon said, licking a tiny bit of sauce from his right hand.
Juliette's stomach tensed at the mention of the Bluebird. She tried hard not to think about Avery's fight with Jeff, the one that led to his arrest and the loss of his job. Although in a small way, she did wish she could've seen him deck Jeff. "You staying the night, Maddie?" she asked.
"Yeah. I get to come over for a night every other week." She motioned down the hall. "I stay in the guest room next to Scarlett's."
"Like I told you, that's your room now," Deacon said to his daughter. "'Course you got your stuff scattered all over every surface, so it's not like I could have a guest stay there anyway. Why do women need fifteen different kinds of body lotion?"
Maddie stuck her tongue out at Deacon. "I like to have options."
Juliette smiled at the playful way they interacted. "Come on Deacon, I bet you have a few different kinds of aftershave in your medicine cabinet," she said.
"Just two: an everyday one and one for special occasions." He brought out a platter with the chicken on it and set it on the dining room table. "Maddie, will you get the potato salad and the black-eyed peas from the fridge?"
"Yes, sir," she said, and brought the bowls to the table.
Deacon sat at the head of the table and Juliette and Maddie faced each other on either side of him. "This looks amazing, Deacon," Juliette said.
Maddie looked to her father. "Should we start with grace?'
"We should." He took her right hand and reached out to Juliette's left.
Juliette reluctantly extended her hand to Deacon. She hadn't had much religious upbringing as a child, although her neighbor Miss Carrie would sometimes take her to church. She had favorite Bible stories but an unclear understanding of God, who seemed so distant from her life. And how could she pray knowing what she was about to do? Still, she didn't want to be rude in Deacon's home so she bowed her head.
Deacon spoke. "Dear Lord, thank you for the food we are about to eat. Thank you for good company and the many blessings you give us daily." He paused. "Let us remember all those we love, especially those who cannot be here tonight. Please keep special watch over those whose troubles are overwhelming right now. Let them know that they are not alone. We ask this, as all things, in your name. Amen."
"Amen," Maddie and Juliette said.
Juliette bit her lip. Could Deacon have been thinking about Avery with that prayer? It sounded that way to her.
Deacon filled each of their glasses with ice water from a pitcher on the table. "Dig in, ladies."
When each had taken food, Maddie looked over to Juliette. "Have you started recording your new album yet?"
"Not yet. Still writing it at this point."
Maddie smiled. "Well, if you're still looking for songs, Deacon and I have written some great ones."
Deacon shook his head and pointed at Maddie with his fork. "Come on, Maddie. Juliette is our guest. No business talk tonight."
"But they're good songs!"
"Now, Deacon," Juliette said. "Don't squash her enthusiasm." She turned to Maddie. "I'm sure they're great. I'd love to hear them sometime."
Maddie smiled at her, then Deacon. "See?"
"The girl's got the fever. I can't slow her down," Deacon said, breaking a piece of cornbread.
"Music's in my blood, isn't that right, Dad?"
Juliette could see the way that simple word affected Deacon. He smiled at his daughter. "Yes, but right now you've got other things to think about, too, like your sophomore year. Aren't those PS-whatever tests coming up?"
"PSATs. They're just practice for the SATs anyway. Not a big deal," Maddie said, cutting a piece of chicken.
"They are a big deal. If you do well on those, you'll do well on the real thing and that will help you get into a good college."
"What if I don't want to go to college? Neither of you did, and you're both musicians, which is all I want to do anyway."
Juliette cleared her throat. "Maddie, our lives were very different from yours. You are so lucky to have so many people that care about you and your future. Nobody's saying you can't be a musician, but it's good to keep all your options open."
Maddie had no comeback to that. She respected Juliette highly.
Deacon looked gratefully to Juliette. "You never know where life will take you. And college is fun sometimes, too. I know Scarlett loved her time at Ole Miss. She's looking to go back to school to get her master's in creative writing."
"Really?" Juliette asked.
"Yeah, there's a great program at Vanderbilt she's dying to get into, but it's highly competitive, so she's polishing up her poems for her application. She's still writing songs in the meantime, too."
Maddie pushed back a piece of her hair. "I guess I could still write and play and do schoolwork. I do it now."
"That's my girl," Deacon said, and Maddie smiled at him.
It was clear to Juliette that they adored each other. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away.
Avery sat in the studio after a long day of recording. All of the musicians had gone home, but he just couldn't face going back to his apartment. The place had too many memories. If he closed his eyes, he could still picture Juliette showing up at his door at two a.m. the night of the music festival, ready to tell him she loved him. His feelings had been building up for months before that, but he'd never thought he'd actually have a shot with her. Apparently he'd been right, but she seemed to genuinely want him for a while. Why did she bother if she wanted someone else, someone he couldn't be? It didn't add up, but he'd given up trying to figure it out, at least for the moment.
He rose stiffly from his chair behind the board. His whole body ached and he wasn't sleeping much. At least the swelling on his left eye was going down so he could see out of it, although it was still horribly black and purple. He felt like the walking dead.
His Les Paul caught his eye in the recording booth. He'd played on the track Evan had recorded today, and it felt good to be making music again. Avery walked into the booth and sat down. He plugged his guitar into the amp and played an E minor chord, the very first one he'd ever learned. He loved the ominous sound of minor chords, and he began composing a dark riff. Eventually, the riff led to a melody that Avery had no words for. That seemed appropriate to him. He simply vocalized over the music, following its dark mood.
He could really go to prison. The thought scared the shit out of him. It might not be for long, a year max, but one day was too much. Prison changed you; he didn't think he'd fare well. This beating would probably be a pleasant memory compared to what was waiting for him there. And what did you do when you got out? A record wouldn't allow him to find decent work, and how did you go back to your life when everyone has moved on without you?
The worry and stress of the situation came out in the music, and his vocalizing grew louder and louder. He closed his eyes as his calloused fingers ran over the frets, digging into the strings. He didn't even have to look at the guitar; its entire body was memorized in his mind, the chords and notes imprinted in muscle memory. He could feel his vocal cords straining.
He was so wrapped up in the music that he didn't hear the door to the booth open. "Avery!"
He dropped the guitar to the floor. "Fuck!" He opened his eyes and saw Evan standing there.
Evan held his hands up. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to scare you."
Avery inhaled and picked up the guitar. "I didn't know anyone was still here."
"I wasn't." He pointed to an amp. "Came back because I realized I forgot my phone." He picked it up. "What was that you were doing just now?"
"I was singing," Avery said.
Evan shook his head. "Dude, that wasn't singing. That was screaming."
Avery looked down. "So what?"
Evan sighed. "So you need a fucking break. Come on, you're going out with me tonight."
"No thanks," Avery said. While their working relationship was fine, he wasn't sure he wanted to spend time with Evan.
"I'm not taking no for an answer. You need to get out and do something, meet some new people."
"I'm sure I'll be meeting lots of new people in prison," Avery said.
"You ain't locked up yet. And you're probably being too pessimistic. You'll get probation or something." He looked carefully at Avery. "I'm thinking this isn't all about that anyway. My guess is it has something to do with a woman."
Avery looked up at him but couldn't say anything.
Evan nodded. "Exactly. Daddy always said I could read people. Helped make me big bucks around the poker table." He scratched behind his ear. "You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."
"I don't want anyone else." Avery stood and put the guitar in its stand.
"I ain't talking marriage, just one night of fun."
Avery looked at his reflection in the glass that separated the booth from the main studio. "I don't know, man. I feel like hell, I look like hell."
"You look like an outlaw! Women love that." He smiled and gripped Avery's shoulder. "Come on. I'll drive. There's this club downtown that my girlfriend wants to check out. She's waiting out in the car, and we're meeting a friend of hers there. A single friend."
Avery considered the possibilities, and he recognized that Evan was trying to help, in his way. He had nothing to lose. "Fine. Lead the way."
Juliette and Deacon sat in his living room nursing their second cups of coffee. Maddie had left them to take a phone call in her room. "So tell me, Deacon: Rayna's broken her engagement with Luke. Where does that leave you?"
Deacon had a secret smile. "In a much better place, I'll tell you what."
Juliette curled her legs up onto the couch; she had kicked off her sandals a while ago. "Good. I didn't much like Luke anyway. And it was glaringly obvious to the whole world that the two of you still love each other."
Deacon set down his mug. "Like it's glaringly obvious how much you and Avery still love each other?"
Juliette choked on her coffee. "No, Deacon. I'm not in love with him anymore."
Deacon leaned forward. "You are lying to me, girl."
"I am not!"
Deacon exhaled forcefully. "You are. Something is totally screwed up here, and you're going to tell me what you're hiding."
Juliette retreated behind the mask she'd so carefully constructed over the years when she felt threatened. "I'm not hiding anything. I realized that we'd never have an equal relationship. He wasn't enough for me."
"That why you cheated on him?"
"Who told you that? Rayna?"
Deacon shook his head. "No one told me anything, but I was able to piece it together myself."
Juliette shrugged, even though she was scared inside. "I'm not a one-man kind of woman. So I screwed around with Jeff. Big deal."
"Do you know why Avery fought Jeff?"
"I don't know. Wounded male ego?"
Deacon tugged at his collar. "No. It's because Jeff was talking shit about you. Avery was defending you."
Juliette blanched at the revelation. "I don't need defending. We'd already broken up."
"God, girl, you are infuriating. Can't you see how much that boy loves you? How he'd do anything for you?"
"It's not enough, Deacon." She pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. "Besides, he's better off without me."
"Bullshit!" Deacon pounded the arm of the chair. "How is he better off? He's in a fucking downward spiral: he's been beaten all to hell, he lost his job, he could go to prison! Do you even care?"
Of course Juliette cared. She cared more about him than she did herself. That's why she was taking every action she could to protect him. She was ashamed that it wasn't enough, but she was doing everything she could to not make it worse. "You don't understand, Deacon."
Deacon pushed his palms flat against each other and held his hands to his mouth before speaking. "Then tell me. None of this makes sense. You're deliberately pushing him away, and I want to know why."
He'd always understood her, could read her almost as well as Avery could. That's why she had to leave before she broke down. "I didn't come here to be interrogated. It's over, Deacon. Leave it alone." She stood up and slipped into her sandals.
"What if something else happens, something worse? I'm worried." He grabbed Juliette's arm. "About him and about you."
Juliette pulled away, grabbed her purse and stalked over to Deacon's door. "We all make choices in our lives, Deacon, and we have to live with them." She stared hard into his eyes. "Tell Maddie I said goodbye." She quickly opened the door and walked out so Deacon couldn't see the tears that threatened to fall.
The club's walls vibrated with some EDM song played way too loud. The DJ had an elaborate light show to go with the music, and they flashed and danced in the darkness. Avery squinted as he waited at the bar. What the hell am I doing here?
Evan walked up and handed Avery his drink. "Jack and Coke, heavy on the Jack, light on the Coke."
"Thanks."
Evan craned his head across the dance floor. "Melissa said Nina was just pulling up outside. They should be in any minute now."
Avery sipped his drink. "Evan, this does not seem like your kind of place."
"I know, right? Melissa and Nina love this stuff so I play along." He took a long swig from his beer. "I tell you Nina's a singer, too?"
"No."
"Yeah, she's in this pop-punk band. I think they're pretty popular if you go for that kind of thing. Her and Melissa have been friends ever since they were nine, grew up around here."
"Where'd you meet Melissa?" Avery asked.
"I was waiting tables in her daddy's restaurant downtown. She loved me when I was a nobody. Figure that means it's built to last."
Avery's stomach sank at his words and he took a big gulp from his glass.
"Here they are," Evan said, pointing to the door. "Over here, ladies!"
Melissa, a tall blonde, walked next to a petite brunette. Avery had to look twice: the Nina Evan was talking about was Nina Simmons, lead singer of First Time Out, a very popular band. Avery had heard their music on all the Top 40 stations. Avery pulled Evan closer. "You didn't tell me this Nina is that Nina."
"Oh, so you know her? That'll make this easier."
"I know of her."
"There you go." He smiled as the women approached. "Nina, darlin', so good to see you." He pulled her into a hug.
"Ugh," Nina said, muffled. She pulled back. "Every time I hug you I just end up smashing my face into your chest."
"I'll stoop next time." Evan turned to Avery. "Nina, this is my producer, Avery Barkley."
Avery held out his hand to her. "Pleased to meet you."
Nina cast an appreciative glance at Avery and gave him her hand. "Nice to meet you, too."
Avery took a look at Nina: her big, dark eyes were heavily lined with eyeliner; she had a tiny stud in her nose and multiple piercings in her ears; her dark hair had a huge green streak in it that glowed when the club lights hit it. The tight shirt and miniskirt she was wearing accentuated her curves.
"Come on, let's dance," Melissa said to Evan, dragging him by the arm.
Evan set his empty beer bottle on a nearby table. "Later, Avery," he said, but gave him a raised eyebrow over Nina's head.
Avery leaned on the bar, looking into his drink.
Nina took a step towards him. "Hey, cowboy."
Avery looked up and scowled. "I ain't nobody's cowboy."
"You're producing Evan's album. I assumed you were a country boy like him."
He shrugged. "Guess you could say I'm a mountain boy, but I'm more into rock and American roots music."
"That's cool. I think people sometimes think Nashville is only country, but there's all genres here. The underground scene is insane." She pushed back a piece of hair from her eyes. "I bet you're a good dancer."
"Not really."
Nina walked her fingertips up Avery's left arm. "I see you've been hurt." She gently touched his face around his eye. "This must kill."
Avery stood still, then reached up and removed her hand from his face.
"You're a fighter. I think that's sexy."
Avery looked away and downed the rest of his drink. "Look, I don't know what Evan's girlfriend told you about me, but I'm in a fucking terrible place in my life right now, so I ain't gonna be very entertaining."
Nina leaned on the bar and motioned to the bartender. "Two shots of Patron." When Avery opened his mouth to protest, she said, "It's on me."
The bartender placed the two shots in front of them. Avery didn't like mixing his liquor because it made him drunk quicker, but he didn't want to be rude.
Nina lifted her shot in a toast. "To fucking terrible places."
Avery lifted his and nodded to her, then they both threw them back, the liquor bracing and warm. "Damn, that's good," he said.
"Oh, that a little smile I see?" Nina turned to him and her nose stud twinkled in the blue light.
Avery motioned to the bartender. "One good turn deserves another." He poured two more and they both drank them fast.
"Now we're talking, cowboy." Avery gave her a look and she held up her hands. "Sorry. Nobody's cowboy."
He laughed in spite of himself, then winced and held his ribs.
"Give it a few minutes, then it'll be your favorite painkiller." She motioned to the table and they both sat down.
"I've heard your songs all over the radio," Avery said. "You're a hell of a belter."
She shrugged. "Thanks. You've probably only heard the hits, though. Record company always wants something bright and poppy. I don't get to record the stuff I really want."
"What's that?"
"The darker stuff, the songs that are closer to punk than Top 40."
"That sucks. You know, one of your songs has a feel similar to the band Suicide."
Nina looked at Avery incredulously. "Alan Vega is my hero."
"'Dream Baby Dream' is one of my favorite songs."
"Not many people our age know Suicide." She pointed to him. "Feel numb yet?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"We'll work on it."
After about half an hour of debating the finer points of Patti Smith's Horses and The Ramones' Rocket to Russia, and a few more drinks, Evan and Melissa wove their way back to them. "Are y'all just gonna sit around here and talk?" Melissa asked. She was definitely buzzed.
Nina looked to Avery. "Things loosened up now?"
Avery moved his neck from side to side. He wasn't feeling any pain at the moment. He looked up at Evan. "If Mr. Florida Backwoods can get down, I guess I owe it to you to try."
The dance floor was crowded and hot. Nina held Avery's hand as they moved to the middle. He saw a couple of people notice her, but no one approached. The music pounded in his ears and Avery felt a bit dizzy in the company of so many other people. Nina pulled him close and started dancing. In truth, it was more like grinding. She turned around and leaned up against him, putting her head on his shoulder. Avery moved slowly because he had no idea how to dance to this music. He allowed himself to touch her arms. She turned back to him and took a step towards him, putting her hands on his hips. Tentatively, he put his hands on hers and was rewarded with a big smile. Avery felt a bead of sweat trickle from his neck all the way down his back.
The rest of the night passed in a hot, close blur. The rounds of drinks kept coming, the music and their voices louder. Then Nina pulled him away from Evan and Melissa to the back of the club. She opened the door to the bathroom.
"I think you can handle this on your own," he said but she just gave him a look and pulled him in after her. The room was meant for a single person. She locked the door.
"I have something for you. Close your eyes."
Avery leaned against the wall and did as he was asked. He could hear Nina digging around in her purse for something, then a tapping noise.
"Okay, here's your surprise."
Avery opened his eyes to a grinning Nina holding a tiny mirror in her hands that held two white lines of powder. She had a rolled-up bill in her left hand.
"Ta-da!"
Avery swallowed. "That coke?"
"Of course. My special treat."
He hesitated. Avery had never done coke, never touched any kind of drugs, even pot. He was always aware of protecting his voice, his lungs. That Avery wouldn't take the risk. That Avery had dreams and plans for the future.
That Avery was dead.
He took the bill, put it to his nose and snorted up the powder. Immediately intense pain rushed right to his head – it probably wasn't the best idea to snort drugs with a recently broken nose. He groaned and leaned his head against the wall.
Nina did her line and put the paraphernalia away. She took Avery's hand and led him out.
"All I have is a headache," he said.
"You'll know when it kicks in." She pulled him to a dark corner and pushed him up against the wall. She grabbed his neck and kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth.
Avery tensed but Nina's mouth was insistent. Eventually he gave in and kissed her back. Then an intense rush built in his blood, raced to his brain. He thought he might suddenly explode. He pulled back from Nina. "Holy FUCK!" he said, eyes wide.
She just smiled at him and then kissed him harder.
Avery got lost: lost in the private bubble of his high, lost in the soft feel of her body. She pressed it against his and he used his hands to explore her soft skin, the tiny circumference of her waist. He let himself remember what it was like to hold her in his arms, to feel the rise and fall of her chest. His heart pounded so hard he swore he could hear his own pulse. Even though his eyes were closed, he thought he saw flashes of white in his peripheral vision. His breathing quickened as she buried her face in his neck, her hands moving underneath his shirt, nails scratching his back. His lips parted: "Juliette," he breathed.
Then pain rocketed through him as Nina kneed him right in the groin. "You fucking asshole! You motherfucker!"
Avery hunched over, unable to move. He stared up at Nina's furious face, her eye makeup smeared and running black down her cheek. "You used me," she said loudly, drawing Evan and Melissa's attention. They quickly ran over. "You think I'm some whore? A blow-up doll?"
Avery's thoughts raced and he couldn't grab onto them. "Just leave me alone," he said, struggling to stand.
"Fine by me." She turned and ran from him. "Fucking loser!"
Melissa chased after Nina, giving Avery a murderous look. "Wait!"
Evan shook his head. "Man, this was the perfect setup. What happened?"
Avery tried to pull down his shirt but his hands were shaking. "I called her the wrong name. My head is all messed up. I can't think, I can't think." He ran his hands through his hair.
"Hey, look at me," Evan said, taking Avery by the upper arms. He saw that his pupils were dilated. "Damn it, what'd she give you?"
"Nothing."
"Come on."
"Coke. Don't tell my lawyer."
Evan groaned. "I've got to get you out of here."
Avery felt Evan steering him across the club, shoving him from behind. Melissa ran up to them in a panic. "I chased after her but she took off. She shouldn't drive like this."
"She made a stupid decision. That's on her." Evan nodded to Avery. "We have to leave now."
They led him to their car and put him in the back. Avery felt himself sliding from a height – he tried to hold on but his hands wouldn't grip. "Oh my God." He started pounding on the seat. "FUCK!"
Melissa turned to look at Avery. "What's wrong with him?"
"Your friend gave him coke."
"Doesn't that make you high, happy?"
"I think he's having a bad reaction." He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "If something happens to him, Rayna's gonna kill me. Goodbye record deal."
"That won't happen." Melissa shook her head and stared out the passenger window. "God, Nina's really got a problem."
"No kidding."
Avery managed to mumble his address to them when they asked, so Evan found his building eventually. He took the keys from Avery and accompanied him to his apartment. He opened the door. "Okay, soldier, try to get some sleep."
"Sleep? I'm never gonna sleep again," Avery said, eyes darting. He had trouble catching his breath.
"It'll wear off eventually. Try to relax; let me know if you need a ride to the studio tomorrow to pick up your truck."
Avery barely heard him. He was too busy trying to hold back the rage that was surging through his blood. Evan slipped out and shut the door.
Avery paced; he talked to himself; he scratched his arm until it bled. He'd been poisoned and he needed to get rid of it. Did she even fucking care? Had she ever cared? He knocked some crap off his coffee table, leaving only his laptop remaining. He had to get it out. He had to. He grabbed the computer, opened it, and started writing.
Juliette had been exhausted when she came home from Deacon's and had gone to bed immediately, another symptom of this thing happening to her. But she kept having bad dreams, dreams she couldn't remember. She only knew she kept waking up on the verge of a scream with her pulse pounding under her skin. She lay awake sick to her stomach, sick of herself.
Sometimes she told herself that she'd meet someone else, that life was long, that she was rich and famous and she could have any man she wanted.
It was a lie, of course. She only wanted one man, and she couldn't have him. Her hands drifted to her stomach. If it was his – her phone chimed, interrupting the thought. She'd received an email. She picked up the phone from her nightstand. Might as well see what it was. She wasn't sleeping anyway. Then she gasped; it was from him. The subject was "I Can't."
I need you to know something. I need you to LISTEN. You HUMILIATED me. Did you know Jeff was there? Did you know he heard the song, the song you couldn't even be bothered with? Did you know he used that as a weapon against me, that he took the love I feel for you and made it ugly and embarrassing and something I should be ashamed of? I was stupid, clueless, blind.
But I can't be ashamed. I didn't do anything wrong. Not to you.
I recognize now that I'm being punished, that I SHOULD be punished. This is fucking karma. It's for the way I treated Scarlett, for throwing her away like a piece of garbage. It's for other things, things I've never told you about, things I thought were buried and dead, but they're not. Every awful thing I've done in my life is only going to bury ME.
I thought I could start over. I thought being good to you would be enough. But it's never enough. I'M never enough. I don't know why I keep chasing after people who don't love me and treating the ones who do like shit.
I'm gonna go to prison, Juliette. Do you realize that? When they lock me in that cell, all I'm gonna see is you. Hell, you've already sent me there. I already live behind bars. You've tied me up, I can't move, I can't think, it's Juliette on my skin, Juliette on my lips, Juliette on my mind for the rest of my life.
You killed me, but I can't die. Please, please just let me die.
Juliette threw the phone across the room. The message didn't sound like Avery and that's what scared her the most. She'd made him insane. She'd done everything she could to make him let go but he wouldn't. Why couldn't he let go?
Why couldn't she?
