Chapter Fifteen
Jem
Satisfied that Dan isn’t going to make an appearance and unable to sit in a room full of temptation, I leave. Perceptive as ever, Bryn follows and suggests coming home with me but I inform him I want to be alone. Things descend into an argument over how I think he constantly assumes I’m about to go home and start using, as if I have a secret stash somewhere. Bryn puts up with a lot of my shit and is a solid friend, but he needs to back off.
Still wired from the evening, I pace around the house attempting to deny I’m jealous of Ruby and Jax for more than their musical relationship. The jittery energy stops me sitting still for long or able to focus on playing. I run through my scrawled list of distraction techniques and lying on my bed staring at the ceiling conjuring images of Ruby’s mouth on Jax’s don’t help.
Ruby isn’t home. I guess she went back to the guys’ house. Pouty Jem wonders why the hell she didn’t just move in with them anyway. I’m sure Jax would’ve shared a bed with her.
f-uck, Jem, get a grip.
Exercise is my other release. I’ve learnt I can run off stress and get a kick of endorphins this way, with the added bonus that it keeps me in shape. However, two a.m. sessions on the treadmill indicate when things are slipping. Tomorrow I’ll talk to someone.
The gym is in the basement and when I emerge calmer and ready for a shower, a light is on in the kitchen. Poking my head around the door, I see Ruby grappling with the coffee machine. Her lack of co-ordination amuses me, like one of those fake drunks you see on TV. Coffee beans cover the bench next to her and Ruby swears as she fails to attach the porta filter for the third time.
“Want some help?” I ask.
Ruby jumps then turns to me. “I wanted coffee. Your machine’s broken.”
I laugh at her. “Sure it is.”
I take the beans from Ruby and the smell of booze assaults me. As I put the machine together and switch it on, I’m aware of her scrutiny.
“On your own?” I ask.
“Clearly. Who would be here?” Her words slur at the edges.
“The rest of the band.”
Ruby wrinkles her nose. “I don’t invite guests to your house.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
“Right.” She elongates the word. “So I can bring random people to Jem Jones’s house?”
“I trust your judgement.”
The aroma of fresh coffee subdues the smell of alcohol and Ruby pulls out two cups. “Coffee, Jem Jones?”
“Why do you always say my name like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re taking the piss.”
“Sorry, I’d have thought you’d like people around you to be reverential.”
She rubs her lips together and focuses on my mouth, before touching my naked chest. I step back, someone’s fingers on my skin is unusual recently and sends a shock through my body. Ruby traces the outline of the stars tattooed on my bicep.
“Your ink’s cool. I have some. Do you want to see my favourite?” Ruby switches to fumbling with her baggy black top, pulling the side up so the edge of her lace-covered tit is visible above her ribs.
f-uck.
“Yeah, nice.” I take the merest glance at the black words tattooed below the lace and look away. “I’m going for a shower.”
“I have more!” she giggles again. “Secret ones.”
As she bunches her skirt higher up her thighs, I grab her arm. “Stop.”
“Don’t you want to see?” Ruby stumbles closer.
“You’re drunk. Sort yourself out. And I don’t want to see, no.”
“Do you want to kiss me?” she whispers, moving her mouth close to mine.
“What the f-uck, Ruby?” I hold her shoulders and stretch my arms so Ruby’s as far from me as possible, so those lips are out of temptation’s way.
“I feel like you want to. I’ve seen that you do.” She moistens her lips and touches my arm. “Jem Jones looks at me like he wants me.”
Jem Jones. Ruby has a perception of who he is and despite over a week living here, and several weeks of knowing me, she still sees me as Jem Jones and not Jem. Yeah, several months ago and in the same intoxicated state, I’d be f-ucking her on the kitchen counter by now. I can’t control my dick’s reaction to her, but I can control what I do with it.
“Move away,” I say in a low voice. “You’re pissing me off.”
“But you’re so good to me; I want to do something good for you.” Ruby’s attempt at a seductive look is tempered by her inability to focus properly.
“Is that what you do? You think a guy wants something in return for helping you? Because by doing this you’re comparing me with that piece of shit you left.”
She scoffs at me. “Like Jem Jones knows how to treat girls. Remember the second night I met you and you had some girl’s mouth wrapped around your dick? Classy.”
My shoulders stiffen. “Stop talking. Make your coffee and go to bed.”
Ruby lowers her eyes to my crotch. “Is that the problem? You don’t do kissing? I can do other things.”
When her fingers go to the waistband of my sweatpants, I grab Ruby’s arms and push her away. “Get the f-uck off me, Ruby!”
Ruby slumps against the counter then slides slowly to the floor, rubbing her face. This girl is a fucked up mess. Bryn’s right, she’s several steps removed from Liv, and I’m trying to help. Again.
Before any more damage is caused, I leave.
Time for a rethink.
I don’t think I can have Ruby living in my house.
****
There’s a pile of girl on the white leather sofa the next morning, tangled red hair obscuring her face, and an untouched mug of coffee on the floor next to her. My anger from last night fades to pity. Leaving her alone, I mooch around the house and plan my day. Maybe I should step away from all this, go to the States for a bit, spend some time in my Manhattan lifestyle, and look up some old friends. Too late, I’m committed to helping these guys on tour now and that kicks off in a few days.
I call Jax to check if he’s arranged the band’s accommodation yet and he sounds as disconnected from the world as Ruby currently is. “Is she okay?” Jax asks as soon as he answers.
“Ruby? She’s passed out on my sofa.”
A girl’s voice in the background asks Jax something and he covers the mouthpiece for a muffled response. “‘Kay. Just worried a bit when she got the text from Dan.”
“Dan? When?”
“Not sure. Ruby started knocking back the drinks and I was umm… busy with a chick. When I came back Ruby was really drunk. She waved her phone at me and there was a text from Dan saying he wanted to see her. Then she started freaking out big style, so I put her in a taxi.”
My intention to ask Ruby to leave and go live with the rest of the band evaporates. Why the f-uck didn’t she say something last night?
“You there? Jem? What were you calling for?”
“Oh, yeah. Meeting. I need to catch up with you to finalise the dates.” I’m zoned out now, and I walk through to look at Ruby asleep on the sofa. “Listen, I’ll call back later.”
“No problem, I’m busy right now.” The girl in the background giggles.
I end the call, annoyed by my relief that Ruby and Jax aren’t a couple.
I pour a glass of water and head to the lounge, poking Ruby with my foot.
She groans and squints at me. “What do you want?”
“I think you need this.” I thrust the water and painkillers at her. “I need to talk to you.”
“Later.” She twists her head and buries it into the sofa. Several attempts at getting another response fail, so I give up.
There’s a cafe close by and I can go there undisturbed most days. Recently, anyway. A few months back, when life was a huge ball of shit and I was in the middle of it, leaving the house was hard enough. No longer trapped, I can walk the streets in peace and usually sit and chill at a coffee shop. Small pleasure but ones missing from life until recently. Inevitably, someone takes my picture but there’s no story to attach. A couple of hours later I head back to the flat.
Ruby’s now curled up under her duvet on the white sofa watching old movies on TV. Her damp hair is piled on her head, accentuating her pale, drawn features and the huge black marks under her eyes. A half-empty two-litre bottle of coke rests on the table.
“Morning, sunshine,” I say. “How are you?”
“Feel like shit. Sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up when I got home last night.”
“Gotta love alcohol memory blanks.” Or not. “I wasn’t asleep.”
Ruby massages her temples. “I hope I wasn’t full-on Ruby with you. I was a bit aggressive with people last night.”
“Let’s not go there. I want to talk to you about Dan.”
At the mention of his name, her hand curls around the duvet and she shifts her focus onto the TV screen.
“We haven’t talked about him since you moved in. I spoke to Jax and he said Dan texted you. If you want to stay here, you need to do something about him.”
She pulls herself to her feet. “I’ll leave. I can stay with Jax.”
“There’s a reason you didn’t go there originally, isn’t there? I know you feel safer behind my security gates.”
Ruby moves to pass me, and I gently take her arm. “He’s a threat to you. Go to the police. I’ll help.”
She drags her arm away. “Help? Why do you keep trying to help?”
f-uck, my big mouth. What do I follow that up with? The wide-eyed girl waits my response; and the push-pull of wanting her with me, and also wanting her somewhere I’ll never see her again, tightens a band around my head. Be professional. “Because I don’t want the lead singer of Ruby Riot ending up in hospital!”
“That’s all?” I can’t tell from her tone whether she’s annoyed or disappointed but her dull eyes tell me she’s not happy.
“That’s all and I don’t want anything from you in return apart from go out, perform, and be awesome. This shit with Dan will interfere. Draw a line. Move on.”
“Just like that,” she mutters and sits back on the sofa.
Does Ruby know that I’m piecing together her story slowly? Or that the more jigsaw pieces that fit, the harder I need to try to convince myself this is business?
“Yeah, I’m putting money into you guys. Faith. Attaching my name means something.”
“Gee, thanks, Jem Jones,” she snaps.
I sit in the chair opposite. “I’m not interested in fixing your fucked up life, Ruby. Sorry.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I tried to fix someone before,” I say quietly, “and she died.” Ruby’s eyes widen. Of course, she knows the story; the whole f-ucking world knows the story. “So that’s why I’m not going to try to fix you and why I won’t ever see you as more than Ruby. I don’t want to know about Tuesday.”
“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that!” she says, tone rising.
And this is why I don’t want to know. “Do you understand why I won’t interfere beyond what’s best for the band?”
She nods and the tears are fighting through; Tuesday is fighting through and I don’t want to see her. I can’t see Ruby weak.
The frail girl pulls at the edge of the duvet and I consider how many sides she has. There’s Ruby, the obnoxious girl covered in thorns; and underneath a broken girl, Tuesday, who has secrets I don’t want to hear. But with me, in this house, she’s neither of those people. Instead, this girl is somebody who acknowledges she’s neither but both. This Ruby doesn’t hide, but she doesn’t attack.
Ruby’s demons moved into my house too and although our demons don’t get along, they sure as hell recognise each other.