Chapter 44: Bad Girls Ugly Cry

Mac

I made it to the airport. I made it through hugging Kat and, even hugging Ben. I made it through the awkward exchange with Sawyer as Adam took possession of our luggage. I made it through security, through changing clothes, through the breakfast Adam wheedled me to eat in the VIP Terminal. I made it through take-off and Dawes' bullshit. I made it through falling asleep on the plane, and waking to find Adam's arms around me. I made it through the joyous event of silently retching up the breakfast mid-flight.

I made it through landing, and through Adam insisting he would sound-check for both of us while I caught a couple hours sleep at the hotel. I made it through the ride over to the venue with Tamara, and the recounting to her of everything that had happened and all her questions about Ben's welfare. I made it through the guys' good-natured ribbing about our LA lock-up adventure. I made it through the show—not my best performance, but I made it. I made it through the aftershow and Leed's half-hearted acceptance that I was moving back into Adam's suite. I made it through Adam's quiet mood as we returned to the hotel. I made it through a shower, and a light snack of apple slices and almonds.

I made it through all of that. Then, I sat on the couch in our suite, with Adam restlessly flipping through channels and watching me like he knew—like he knew—what was coming. Finally in the safety of his shelter, and my anger over Marley and Dev dulled by exhaustion—then, I fell apart.

I cried and cried. Great gulping, discordant sobs that were terrifying because I felt them all over and I was sure they would never end. I couldn't stop them. They shook loose from a place inside me that seemed vast and relentless and broken. I cried without even being sure why I was crying. It made no sense. It made less sense to think it would ever stop.

Adam held me on the couch for the longest time. Eventually, when I started to hyperventilate, he carried me to bed and cradled me against him, gently coaxing me with breathing exercises through the sobs. When I was able to breathe again, I cried more. I cried so long and so hard, my throat was parched, and my tongue thick and swollen. I cried through a solid sweat and all they way out of tears. Finally I lay panting, without will, against Adam's chest.

When it was over, Adam left me for a few minutes, eventually returning with a cool cloth, acetaminophen, and water. He bathed my face and neck. He pulled my hair off my neck into an elastic, and coaxed me to take the medicine and drink the waters. It took me a long time to drink the two bottles, but Adam sat patiently, without a single comment or question about my melt-down. When I was done, he turned out the lights pulled me down with him into the bed, wrapping his strong arms around me.

In the quiet, he said, "I know we are struggling, baby. I feel it, too. It's frustrating and sad, and it hurts. I get it. I'm so fucking sorry. But I love you and I believe you love me, and I know we both love our child that's growing inside you. I won't let all this bullshit tear us apart. No fucking way. We're going to fix us. We're going to take this raw and powerful love we have, and make it into something we can live on. Thrive on. Okay?"

If I had any more tears, I would have shed them for this wonderful man, who said such things.

Instead, I whispered, "I didn't mean it."

"Mean what?"

"It's not a motherfucking ring, It's a perfect ring. Perfect, and beautiful and pure. Like you. I'm just not sure when I'll ever match what you have to offer."

"You are beautiful and pure," he says, his voice sad at my disbelief in myself. "And I am far from perfect, but you are so fucking perfect for me. I swear on all things holy I feel you like the angel you are. I see you. I always see your goodness. It's just...out there in the world, it's harder. Harder for us both. We let the distractions creep in. They harden us. They divide us."

I murmur agreement. "We have to learn to stick together. Stand so close that it's us against the world, with no space in between. Like me and Leed, but even closer. Sweeter. Deeper in each other."

I can feel Adam smiling in the dark. "That's so beautiful, Mac. And so right." He puts his lips and my forehead. "We just need a little peace, now. Sleep." He leaves his lips pressing against me, and I fall asleep that way.

When I wake, I realize Adam is truly a prince, because he didn't even order the disgusting omelet that I can no longer tolerate for breakfast. Instead, he ordered me some plain toast with a little almond butter on the side. And cucumber slices for my puffy eyes.

"Good morning. I love you," I murmur after my cucumber therapy, sliding into the chair behind him and leaning my chin on his shoulder as I alternately nibble the toast and nibble his neck.

"I love you too," he kisses my nose and returns to thumbing an email from Marcy on his phone. He sighs and holds it up for me to see. Three celebrity gossip mags are running with stories about Madam and DevBlue, but none of them have the full details—that Adam punched Dev. Amazingly, it happened too fast for anyone to get a picture. They just say that Adam and Dev apparently had a "charged exchange" at an LA Club. Marcy and Dev's publicists have both agreed to the same official comment—there are no animosities between them. All the stories disregard the official statements and suggest that Madam is on shaky ground and Dev is the reason.

I check my phone. I have the same email that Adam got. Plus I have a second one from Marcy that Adam didn't receive. It contains a picture of me from Denizen, juxtaposed beside a similar picture of me from several months ago. The difference is so apparent that I clearly look either pregnant or like I completely abandoned my ab workouts. Her terse email reads. Bought this for $20k to kill rumors of a baby bump. Label execs saw it, though. Dawes suggests we hire a fitness natzi to join you on tour. Says Adam's eating habits are corrupting your abs. Mac...is there something I should know? Call me.

I show it to Adam. He has no comment about Marcy's email. He only spreads his fingers to blow up the new picture, screen shots it, draws a red heart around my slight protrusion and grins. "Our first picture of Babycakes."

I say nothing. I just stare at the picture from where I sit wedged in the chair behind him, gripping his shoulders. "Adam, why didn't you tell me I was showing in that outfit?"

Adam wraps my legs around him, drawing them into his lap, rubbing his thumbs in small circles in my arches. "The same reason you didn't realize...we've both seen your body changing so gradually. Although, in LA, I did sort of see it for the first time. I thought...maybe it was just me that saw it, because I know about Babycakes. But I guess you are just so little Shorty, you're gonna show quick. You're pushing up on eleven weeks now. You ready to announce this?"

"No," I admit.

"Why?"

"I don't want to meet your family and Babycakes be the first thing we have to deal with. I don't want your parents to...judge me," I confess.

He nods. "For the record, they won't judge you. My parents are religious and conservative but they aren't medieval, you know. They don't have much to say about consenting sex between adults. And they sort of know that babies come from that. Sometimes without a plan for that to happen. And they believe a child is always a gift. A joy. The very last thing they would do, is judge us for consciously and lovingly following through with an unplanned pregnancy. We are at least there, right? Set to follow through?"

My arm automatically curves around my lower belly, where Babycakes is now a part of my every waking moment of awareness. "Yes. Of course. How could you even ask me that?"

Adam swallows heavily. "Well, I thought that's maybe why you don't want to tell them. It's been a fucking rough week for you. Especially last night. At the beginning you said, if you couldn't stay on top of your emotions...you might change your mind."

"I was in control. All through LA and Dev and the police station. I got pissed about Marley but I kept it together, getting back to the tour and getting through the show. I did what I had to do. I just needed to feel last night."

He squeezes my feet, and it feels amazingly good. "Yeah, I get that. Your kept your shit together under amazing pressure, Mac. You are so strong." He turns his head to the side that we can see one another. "You know, I thought you might go back to Leed's suite last night. Thank you for letting me be the one to be there for you."

I slide my arms up around Adam's ribs and spread my fingers over his pecs. "If I'd lost it on Leed like that, he and you would probably be rolling around on the ground pounding each other like idiots right now."

"That reminds me, I owe him a beat-down," Adam muses. I slap his chest and he chuckles. "Kidding. We got right at sound-check yesterday. You missed the glory of us hugging it out."

"I saw. Bodie sent me a picture," I smile.

We are quiet for a long moment. Adam clears his throat. "So you're really not ready? To announce the pregnancy to my family?"

"No, I'm really not. I just want to get to know them without all the questions hanging over our head—about the baby. You might be right that they will be positive about the baby. But it's going to lead to more questions. Like...are we getting married?"

Adam does his best not to react, but his jaw tenses. "Well now, the last time it came up, I think I was the one that refused to propose. I'd take the heat for us both, Shortcake. You can throw me under the bus for that one," he grins, but his eyes are...conflicted.

"After Nashville, okay? I mean we haven't even seen a mid-wife yet. Please, Adam..."

"Ok. I get it. Really. We'll tell them later. But I want to tell them in person before any public announcement, all right?"

I reach my hand out. "Deal." We shake. "Okay, so let me deal with Marcy. No time like the present..."

I dial Marcy's number. Adam listens to my one-sided conversation with amusement.

"Hey. Yeah, I know LA was a disaster, but Trace is still Jesus del Marco. He can save all of Soundcrush from our sins, so get off Adam's back. Are you kidding me? People are seriously talking that shit? Have any of you ever actually met Adam Heartley? Preacher would go old testament and sacrifice a lamb before he would knock me up out of wedlock.

"Goddamn, I eat dinner for once and everybody flips out about my fucking pizza baby. No, I don't need a fucking diet cop. Yeah well, the label execs can kiss my ass. Tell them to survive on 900 calories a day while working the stage three hours a night. Alright, alright...I'll do a cleanse. Fine. Enjoy your goddamn MacDonalds lunch you fucking Amazon cunt.I hate you. Yeah, yeah. Fine. Have fun at Disneyland. Kiss my baby girl for me..." Marcy has the sweetest six year old daughter in the world. "Have a good weekend with the fam. We'll try not to fuck it up with any bad press."

"Your ability to lie is both incredibly impressive and seriously concerning, my future bride," he says lightly.

My stomach does a strange flip-flop.

"I thought the marriage thing was a no-go in your mind now," I murmur.

"Not a no-go. Just more of a long-term goal. Unless you weren't serious," He pulls me around from behind him, so that I'm now straddling him, trapped between his hard chest and his plate of eggs on the breakfast table. His blue eyes rake my lips, roam the freckles on my nose, and then meet my gaze. "Tell me honestly. Are we getting closer to being on the same page about marriage, or were you just suffering a moment of jealousy-induced insanity, when you demanded my ring in the limo?"

In the shelter of Adam's arms, I feel like I can open the gate to the space where I lock away my feelings. Like I can wonder in there and actually feel them, instead of painting a wall of false bravado in front of them. "Honestly, I sort of freaked out about Marley for a minute there. Demanding the ring was...wrong thinking. I'm still terrified of marriage. But I can promise you, we are on the same page about us. I can go that far. You're mine. I'm yours. I know that now. I want that now. It's like I said last night. I don't want any space between us. Not for Molly's or Marley's or Dev's or Sawyer's or fears or any distractions to get between. I'm just...not sure. What it will take."

"What it will take?" Adam cocks his head.

"To bind us that tight. To keep the space closed."

He smiles and pulls my hair around on my shoulders so he can play with my rainbow locks. "I think you do, my sweet Shortcake. It takes faith. And it takes vows."

"I have faith in us. I think we both do." I prop my elbows on his shoulders and run my fingers through his longish-on-top hair, feathering it as he looks up at me with a heartbreakingly earnest expression, nodding in agreement with my statement. "But right now, we have rules, and I suck at following them for even 24 hours. And you are so naive you can't even see when you are breaking them. So I think, before we make vows, we better practice following the rules. Because if I make a vow—if I take your vow—I want to know we can both keep it. Without a doubt."

He pulls my forehead down to his. "Agreed. So we need to come to terms on things. Like Marley. And DevBlu."

I flutter my lips with a dismissive sound. "I won't flirt with DevBlu again. I felt too goddamn guilty about it. It was nothing really...just a thoughtless, reckless thing I said. And I shut it down. He knows I have no interest in him personally."

Adam squints his eyes. "I listened to those tracks you forwarded me. Did you two try to one-up each other with filthy lyrics or something?"

I laugh. "No, not at all. That dirty rapper thing of his is a persona. Or maybe just his shadow side, I dunno. But at the police station, he was actually very...polite and proper. Like Riley. No, not quite like Riley. Have you ever seen Downtown Abbey?"

Adam laughs and scarfs a piece of bacon, offering my a bite. I nibble as he says, "Think of what you are asking me. I have three sisters."

"Okay, so you know. So Dev is actually like the upstairs to Riley's downstairs."

Adam raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah, he's all charming. And even the flirting—it was all really...high-brow. It was like a play...like the things I said were scripted to follow the things he said. We were talking about the gin he drank at the club—Blue Magic-- and he was so apologetic that I didn't take a liking to Blue, and I said maybe Blue was an acquired taste. So it was innocent, but it was full of innuendo. A game I didn't even want to be playing, but...I...played anyway."

"Hmmmm," Adam says with a frown. "Sounds like you two were dancing around a song, not really each other."

"Yeah, something like that," I agree. "Like the meaning wasn't real but more of a ... lyric."

Adam searches my face. "You like him? Professionally, I mean? You want to do a feature for him?"

"I like his work. I know you and Trace don't go in much for rap and hip-hop, but I think he's good. I could work with him. I might work with him, down the road," I smile. "But not right now. Our plate's too full. Besides, I have another new song-writing partnership I'd like to explore."

"Who?" Adam asks suspiciously with a slight frown.

"You, dummy," I pull at his frowny lip. "I really liked us arranging the song you wrote. We should write together more."

Adam's lips curl up. He bites at my finger worrying his lip. "You don't think Trace will mind?"

I shrug. "Maybe it's just for fun, for us. Maybe we hit on something that vibes like Soundcrush and we bring him in." I purse my lips at Adam. "Why haven't you and Trace ever tried to write together?"

He laughs and squeezes my thighs. "Oh, we have a fuck ton of songs we've written together. They all sound like the Allman Brothers."

I dip my gaze, compelling him with an evil eye. "Tell me the truth...how high have you been all those times?"

He laughs. "You got me, Shortcake. Sky. High. But we're getting side-tracked. There's one more thing I want to know about Dev."

I nod. "The trigger issue."

"Yeah."

"Could still be a problem. I felt...nervous, around him. At the club. At the station. But...then...I told him about my assault, and it was a little better. He took his piercings out," I say softly.

Adam's Adam's apple bobs painfully. "That's why he dropped the charges."

I smooth his t-shirt over his shoulders, nodding silently.

Adam strokes my hair from my face. "I'm sorry you had to do that. That's on me, putting you in that position. Using my fists, getting arrested, so stupid. Forcing you to be vulnerable in a way you should never have to be. I'm never doing anything like that again, ok? If you're having a situation I need to get you out of—a flashback, anxiety, or just a douchebag hitting on you...I'm never going fists first again. You were traumatized by violence. I'm cutting violence from my options, unless its a matter of life endangerment or some crazy shit. I'm not risking becoming a trigger for your trauma. I see that now."

I lay my head on his shoulder, breathing in his soapy, masculine smell. "Thank you."

"Thank you. For being the strong one. For keeping yourself together when you were so close to spiraling out. For keeping my stupid ass out of jail. You were so fierce. I'm so proud of you," he murmurs as he puts his hand to my belly. "You are going to be such a good mamma."

I smile against his throat. "I want to be. I never told anyone that I wanted to have kids. But I always have. I just didn't think it would happen. I didn't think I would...let myself, you know? I kind of thought maybe I would never be able to let go of my toughness to do that. That I would always be too armored. And also that maybe no man would ever be brave enough or strong enough to come at me with a bare dick."

"Well, you were scary as hell, even to me," he agrees. "But then I knocked you up. And now my spawn is destroying your terrifying mean girl defenses from the inside out."

"I guess," I mumble and then, for meanness, I bite down hard on his collarbone. I don't know what tastes better—his bruising flesh or the reverbing grunt of pain that rumbles through him. He slaps my ass hard for the bite, and I yelp and jump, but I like that too.

"So DevBlu," Adam concludes. "You aren't going to high brow flirt with him, a collaberation is off the table for now, and he's a cat we need to approach with caution, from your PTSD perspective. Agreed?"

"Yes." I want to stop the conversation there. I know what comes next.

"Marley," Adam says. "Tell me what you what me to do."

I groan in irritation. "Don't ask me that. Because I want to be a bitch about it."

He cups my ass, rubbing gently where he slapped as he stares into my face. "If you need me to cut all ties, I will. It might hurt her feelings a little bit, but she'll be okay. I can do that easily for you, if that's what you need."

I close my eyes. "We should be working towards trust, right? So I was lying when I said I want to be a bitch about it. The real Mac feels like... ultimatums are the opposite of trust."

Adam smiles. "That's a very Leed-like observation."

I snort. "My brother isn't the only one with chilling insight, you know."

Adam nods seriously. "I know. I still can't get over you waking up the five hours pregnant, and just...knowing it. You're fucking freaky, Shortcake."

"I know, but I like being freaky," I say smugly.

"Okay, so what does trust look like to you, in terms of my friendship with Marley?"

I consider. "I don't like you talking about me, to her. I'm learning to be vulnerable with you. I don't like that shared. Not at all. Just like you don't like me talking about our sex. So I'll keep that part of us private for you, if you won't talk to Marley about me."

"Done," he says at once. "What else?"

"Don't encourage her flirtation, okay? Don't do that sexy humble thing when she calls you rock star."

Adam laughs and rubs his jaw, looking slightly confused, doing exactly what I'm talking about—the sexy humble thing. "What do you mean?"

I sigh. "That. What you just did. Get all embarrassed and cute."

He nods, "Do my best. But you are asking me to be something other than myself."

"No I'm not. If she calls you that again, tell her the truth. Tell her I don't like the nickname, I think it's flirtatious, you're trying to respect my feelings about it, and ask her not to call you that. She's a fucking counselor isn't she? She should know all about boundaries, right?"

He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, rubbing his jaw. "That's a fair point. Okay, done. If she calls me that again, I'll set a boundary there. But I have a feeling you set all the boundaries we are going to need. I have no idea what you said to her, but I think you checked her pretty hard. She felt...guilty, I think."

I wrap my arms around Adam's neck and pull him tight...right into my boobs—a not-so-subtle reminder of one of my many fine attributes, as I take his hand and put it on the slight swell of my stomach.

"She should feel guilty, pushing up on you when she knows you have all this on the line. When she knows what you want."

"Well for the record, all I want is you and Babycakes and I absolutely will walk the line to keep you," his arms tighten around me, "But I also think maybe Marley isn't really crushing on me. Just the idea of me."

"Hmmmm."

Adam is quiet for a second. Then he stiffens. "Shit. I forgot. There's one more thing I need to tell you about Marley."

I pull back, my heart pounding slightly. The way he stiffened bothers me. What in the fuck else could there be?

"What?"

He wets his lips. "She's from Boston. I sent her VIP packets to come up for the Call-Out and bring a friend. I paid for her travel, too. I did it as an encouragement for her to bring a date, you know? She needs to get out there. Her confidence is shattered. Her fiancee cheated on her."

"Oh fuck! You're serious?" I laugh. I can't help it. I'm fucking evil, okay?

Adam looks at me with a kind of tolerant irritation. "Mac, it's really not funny. Put yourself in her shoes..."

I consider. Really consider. I don't feel threatened by Marley. Not really. I know Adam loves me, he's just, sometimes too nice for his own good. I believe he'll keep the boundaries with Marley, now that we've established them. Truthfully, I'm less worried about him breaking the rules than me. "I'm cool. Just make sure I get to meet her."

He raises his eyebrows, "And you'll be nice?"

I reach behind me and drag a finger through the congealing syrup on his plate. I pop it into his mouth. "Sweet as sugar, Sugar."

He pulls my finger away after a thorough sucking and meets my lips. We kiss deep and unhurried.

Adam shoves his plate aside and lifts my ass, sitting me on the edge of the table. "So we good for now? Can I finish breakfast?" He looks up at me with, his guileless blue eyes filled with love. It's only the devilish smirk on his lips that lets me know exactly what he means.

"Sure," I say nonchalantly, stabbing a fluff of cheesy jalapeno eggs and putting it in front of his face, while I bat my eyes. He shakes his head. "That breakfast is cold. I'm hungering for something hotter and much more tasty."

"Is that so?" I say, swinging my knees out wide. "I could order you some oatmeal..." I tease.

He grabs my sleep shorts and tugs them off, hooking my legs over his shoulders, as he surveys my bare sex, that immediately starts to ache and swell under his intense perusal. "I swear to any god that's listening, I will always crave you. I'm fucking salivating," he groans and he leans down and plants a sweet kiss on my bare mound. He leans his forehead gently against my belly and breathes. I rake my fingers through his hair, adoring this man that's preparing himself to adore me.

"Adam, are you actually praying over my pussy?" I tease with mirth.

"Fuck yes, you pretty little heathen," he growls. "In my house, I always say a blessing before I eat."

Ritual accomplished, he makes his meal. There are a lot more appeals to god after that, but all from my lips.

Well, seems like Mac and Adam somehow find the strength to hurdle every obstacle. Will they make it to the finish line or get worn down and fall off the track? Nashville is a daunting obstacle coming up next--daunting at least in Mac's mind! WHat do you think is going to happen there?

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