Gia’s stomach did a back flip, as well as a forward somersault, as she stared at Marco. He looked even fitter if that were possible. And far more handsome. And sexy, sexy, sexy.
Seriously. Marco must pump his sorrow into training. Gia thought. Or maybe he’s got a new girl.
Never the competing type when it came to other women, her nether region began doing warm-ups, in time with her heartbeat, preparing for her favorite and sorely missed brand of calisthenics—sexing with Marco.
“Gia,” he said, his face void of emotion. He crossed his bulging-muscled arms over his chest like she was a new recruit in the military and him her commanding officer.
“Marco. You move to Phoenix?” she said, unsure of how to proceed since tackling him and screwing the Bejeezus out of him didn’t seem likely.
“No. I came to watch you.” He kept his arms tightly folded while his eyes drilled holes through her.
She waited for flames to lick at her skin. “Uh...to see if I’m still sober? I am.”
“Good to hear. And no, that’s not why I came.” He shut his mouth, unwilling or unable to say more.
“Not going to give me more clues, huh?” Still uncertain, she opened the door to the band’s home on wheels.
“I, uh…I heard your speech. I was in the back, but the message came through loud and clear. That took some courage. And some heart. You must be doing well with recovery.” He shifted side to side.
Gia nodded, unsure what to say next.
The driver, who’d been staring at the interaction with fascination, scrambled over to unfold the metal stair-steps.
“Up you go, miss,” he said, holding out his hand.
She paused, looking at Marco. “You want to come in or is it something quick?”
He hesitated, and then let out a deep breath, uncrossed his arms, and said, “Sure, I’d love to come in. I have something to say to you.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I don’t know. If you want to beat me up verbally, I’ve done that a lot lately, so you can save yourself the trouble.”
He shook his head.
“I, uh...I need to apologize to you,” he said.
“To me? Are you certain you have the right bus?” she said, completely taken aback.
“One hundred percent,” he said. “Don’t make a fuss, just get on the bus.”
“What?” she said, doing a double take. She smiled at his sudden grin. “Did you just reference an old Frank Zappa tune?”
“It was one of my mom’s favorites,” he said. “Crew Slut. I had to listen to it over and over as a child.”
She laughed. “Well, alrighty then,” she said, hopping into the roomy vehicle. “That girl has left the building, but this girl is happy to have you on-board.”
When they both stood in the luxury interior, Gia said, “Sit. Mi bussa es su bussa.” She gestured to the matching leather couches that faced one another.
A kitchenette and fully-stocked bar flanked the couches. Everything was dark—dark wood trim, black leather, even a black metal stove-top. Blue lights were placed in a long, snakelike row along the ceiling. Gia found it kind of depressing, so she claimed the one bedroom a lot, shutting the door behind her and staring out the small window while she fiddled with her camera or fussed with the downloaded photos on her computer. The bus held four sets of double-sized bunks, so Dante let-go of the bedroom despite Kennedy joining them on tour, telling her he and Kennedy didn’t mind the bunks. Gia felt certain it was all part of the “keep Gia sober” plan.
“Can I get you something to drink? We’ve got everything, in keeping with rock and roll realities,” she said.
“Water’s fine,” Marco said, perched on the sofa, his leather jacket by his side.
“Are you sure? Don’t hold back because you think I can’t stand to watch my friends drink alcohol. I can deal.” She smiled at him. “I get plenty of practice with this crew.”
“Then a beer would be great,” he said, returning the smile.
“That’s the spirit. Be yourself.” She opened the fridge and peered inside. “We’ve got ales, micro-brews of various kinds, and a few Coors. What suits?”
“Got anything with a bite?” he asked.
Well, there’s me. “Sure thing. Like I said, we’ve got everything.”
He got up and stepped behind her, practically melting her from the heat of his body. He reached across her, brushing her shoulder with his arm, and retrieved a strong Belgian ale made by Trappist monks. The gesture seemed deliberate, aimed at torturing her.
She turned, millimeters from his skin, watching as he twisted off the top and took a long swig, his eyes keeping watch of her.
When he finished, he hefted the bottle, and said, “Good beer.”
His chocolate-colored eyes appeared hooded as he regarded her.
“Super,” she said. Two can play this game. She turned and searched the shelves of the fridge for the lemonade she’d bought. When she found it, she bent forward, letting her ass brush against Marco’s hips. “Here it is,” she said, reaching for the container. She pivoted around and practically laughed at the hunger in his eyes.
He held the bottle of beer suspended in the air. His tongue flicked out and danced along his lips.
Enjoying the game of flirt, she squeezed past him and retrieved a glass from the shelf. Once she’d poured her lemonade, she turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “So?”
He stood inches away in a wide-legged stance.
She dragged her booted foot up the outside of his leg.
“So?” he said, questioningly, looking like she’d struck a match and held it to his pants leg.
“You have something to say to me?” She sipped at her lemonade.
“Right,” he said, back to his resolute, determined self. “Let’s sit. It will be easier if we’re sitting.”
“After you,” she said, sweeping her hand toward the two sofas.
They each settled on a couch, face to face.
He leaned to the side and pulled a couple pieces of folded paper from his back pocket. “I found something of yours. Actually, that’s a lie. Kennedy thought I needed to see these.”
Gia snatched the paper from his fingers. “What is this?” She quickly unfolded the paper to see her two letters. She waved them at him. “How did you get these? They were private.”
“Yeah, I get it. I understand.” He held his palms out to her. “But Kennedy thought them important. She texted Keys and Heat and asked them to retrieve them from your trash can when she took you out to lunch. She said she followed you into your room when you forgot something and noticed them in there. She told the boys to clean up your space or something...be useful and take out the trash and sweep the kitchen or some such.” He appeared sheepish.
“They were private,” she said again, feeling somewhat betrayed. “I knew those dip-shits were up to something. Like they suddenly had a domestic urge. I’m going to kick their asses.”
“Gia, don’t be mad. I’ve been a mess since we parted in California. A complete train wreck. Kennedy kept tabs on me to make sure I didn’t do anything foolish.”
Gia scoffed. “Try being babysat by the goon squad. Keys and Heat drive me crazy.”
Marco nodded, smiling slightly. “I thought I blew it with you.” His eyes took on the appearance of the sincere and faithful Marine.
“Wait, what? You thought you blew it with me? I’m the one who fucked up, big time. I didn’t tell you my sister’s name or tell you why I ran. And I killed the love of your life.” Gia scrubbed her hair with her fingertips. “You’re confusing the hell out of me, Brutus.”
“Yeah, you ran. But I got scared, too. We got way close. I’ve never felt that way with anyone, ever.”
Gia squinted at him, certain she wasn’t hearing him properly. She wanted to shake her head and make a gaggle, gaggle, gaggle sound like a cartoon.
“I didn’t let you explain,” he continued. “And I might have run had you not done it first. So Kennedy gave these to me out of mercy.” He gestured toward the paper she clutched. “She knew you’d be pissed, but she thought you’d understand. Her heart broke for both of us.”
“Huh.” Gia leaned back and stretched her arms across the back of the couch. “I guess it depends on the outcome whether I’m mad or not. So far, so good in a bewildering sort of way.”
“Love your hair, by the way. I was so stunned seeing you I forgot to tell you,” Marco said.
“What, this?” She indicated her bright red hair.
“And is that a real ruby in your nose stud?” he asked, appearing genuinely fascinated.
“I like to match. I decided to go festive. I’ve been in a pretty dark mood lately. The only time I come alive is when I’m at my drum kit. Or taking photos. I’ve got some crazy cool ones. I’ll show you if you’d like.”
“I’d love to see. But not yet. There’s more,” Marco said, looking extremely serious.
“Wait, there’s more,” Gia said, smiling.
“There is. I’ve had a lot of time to think, obviously. About the way I reacted, the things I accused you of. In my defense, I’ve worked with quite a few recovering addicts and lying comes as easily as breathing to most.”
Gia’s chin bobbed up and down in agreement. “Makes sense. I get it. I’ve heard stories in meetings. And, I’m sure it looked suspicious. I was playing a game of Russian roulette, hoping I’d win.”
He nodded. “But, somewhere in the back of my heart, I knew you were telling the truth about not touching the bourbon and only recently finding out who Susy…I mean, Shauna was to me. It’s not like either of us spilled our guts to one another.” Marco leaned back, matching Gia’s posture, his arms spread wide across the couch. “Not details, anyway.”
Gia nodded, waiting for more, thinking, God, I love his arms. I wish he was holding me.
“And I accused you of driving the car in the accident. I painted the worst scenario. You weren’t the one behind the wheel. Shauna drove. And the truck driver was drunk. He lost control. May he rot in hell. Kennedy told me the whole story. I can’t imagine what you felt to have been the one who survived. Survivor’s guilt can be the worst. And, to have lost your sister...” His eyes grew moist.
A storm of emotion began to beat at Gia’s insides.
“Marco, stop.” She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from losing it
“You have to hear me out. I started to piece together conversations I had with Shauna before she died. She used to talk about her sister, a lot. Like all the time. It seemed like every conversation took a turn in the sibling direction. She said the two of you had a miserable childhood, but she refused to elaborate. I think she was even more stubborn than you. Her face would grow stony, and she’d shake her head and say, ‘No! I am not going back into the past. It’s too painful.’ But she told me about her amazing sister and how you were her hero. She never dropped your name, though. Not once. She said she’d lost touch with you but hoped she’d find you so we could all meet.”
Gia’s mouth dropped open. Her hands fell by her sides. “She what?”
Marco leaned forward. “She said you were her hero. She looked up to you. She never forgot the way you protected her or took a beating meant for her.”
“Oh, God, here we go again,” Gia said, as tears spilled from her eyes. “I tell you what, I am sick of crying. I’ve turned into a blubber-baby. Pass me the tissues, will you?”
Marco grabbed the box of tissues sitting on the table near him and handed it to her. “You’re beautiful when you cry, Gia.”
“Stop. I’m a mess, and you know it.” She pulled a handful of the soft, absorbent paper and dabbed at her face. “That can’t be true—what you said about me being my sister’s hero. You’re making it up.”
“I’m telling it true, girl. All your sister wanted was for you to be happy. That’s all she wanted. She told me that. In fact, during our last conversation, she told me she hoped to find you someday and tell you in person. And thank you for keeping her safe.”
“Oh, my God,” Gia said, as her heart cracked open wide. She sobbed as Marco’s words hit home. “She did find me, but I don’t remember if she told me or not.”
“I’m telling you now. And if I'm a sentimental fool, so be it. Susy…er, Shauna… wanted you to be happy. Look at me.”
Gia lifted her sloppy, snotty face to him, blinking at the speed of her racing heart.
“You make me happy. I’ve already experienced more happiness with you than I ever experienced in my life, Gia. I think Shauna would be happy for us both.”
Gia’s hands flew to her face. “Oh, God. My heart is breaking to bits right now. I can’t take any more. You being nice to me, telling me I was my sister’s hero, the sister who died next to me in the car…” Her body shook with the pain of Marco’s revelations.
“Why on Earth wouldn’t I be nice to you? I told you before, and I’ll tell you again—you’re one of the most loveable people I know.”
Hearing this, the floodgates opened wide, sending Gia into a heart-wrenching storm of tears.
“Come here. Let me hold you.” Marco held his arms open wide.
Gia flew across the short space and straddled him, sobbing into his neck.
“Are you sure you want to throw it down with me?” she blubbered. “I can be a handful.”
“I’m a Marine,” he said, his arms embracing her tightly. “That has to count for something.”
“Oh, it counts,” she said, pulling back to kiss him hard on the lips.
When they came up for air, he added, “And I’m also hoping to get my brains back. I hope you remember what charity you gave them to,” he said, referring to her letter.
“I lied. They’re right here.” She touched her chest. “I saved them for you.” She grinned at him. “Would you like to see what a tour bus bedroom looks like?”
“I sure do. After you open my gift.” He fished around in his jacket, waving the box with the now-smashed blue bow. “I saved it for you. Want to see it?”
“It’s going to pale in comparison. I’m looking at the best gift on the planet, baby. You. But yeah, hand it over.” She extended her hand, palm up.
Her fingers trembled as she ripped open the pretty paper, revealing a jewelry box. Prying open the lid, she stared with wonder at a brilliant gold pendant. She plucked it free from its velvet nest. Dangling it before her eyes, she exclaimed, “Oh! I love it!”
Consisting of a set of tiny 24k diamond-studded drumsticks, it had a banner that read, “Keep the beat,” on one side, “Keep the faith,” on the other. A small gold spider dangled from the back clasp on a slender chain.
“I had the jeweler add the spider after reading your letter.”
She lifted her head to look into his shining eyes.
“I figured since I wove the web to catch your heart, I needed to keep watch over it when we aren’t together. And, the message on the banner is as much for me as it is for you—I didn’t do a very good job at keeping the faith.”
“And I’m a Marine, for Christ’s sake,” he added. “Semper Fidelis. I’d better live up to our motto and not run like a little bitch when I get close to you or blow up at you. You’ve got me by the balls, girl. I’d move heaven and Earth for you.”
“You big sweetheart. What did I do to deserve you? This is beautiful. It means more to me now than it would have in California. I think maybe I did something to earn it, you know? Standing on stage and sharing my shit was terrifying. This is way better than a Grammy.” She held it out to him. “Here, help me put it on.”
She pivoted, fingering the pendant as Marco worked the tiny clasp behind her neck.
“Now what shall we do?” she said, grinning at him. “Which shall we do first? Sloppy, dirty sex or sweet love-making?”
“Let’s do both,” he said. “Where would you like to begin?”