Chapter Seventeen

Jon’s heart skipped a beat and he froze.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the caller said plainly. “Don’t go near Erin again. It’s not safe to be around her.”

A thousand questions swirled in Jon’s mind and he sputtered over them, agitated.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just stay away from her. I’m warning you.” And the call dropped with a click.

Stunned, Jon held the receiver at his ear for a moment before he hung it up. What the hell?

Staring at the phone, his mind clicked with thoughts. While his first reaction was a classic “WTF” annoyance, he was also inclined to laugh in retrospect because the guy had sounded like a loon. Some prank call, no doubt, from someone who had watched too many cheesy horror films.

…And who knew Erin.

…And Jon’s phone number.

In spite of himself, Jon was slightly spooked. But he also knew his emotions ran high in times of stress, and he finally shook his head and decided to take a strong sleeping pill before he hit the hay.

He flipped off the kitchen light and unplugged the phone just in case, then headed toward the sweeping staircase. He grabbed his briefcase from the foyer as he passed, and when he got upstairs he noticed his phone was blinking blue with a voicemail. The missed calls menu showed it was from Erin, and a smile involuntarily stole his lips as he hit the call key.

She answered on the second ring, “Hey there, handsome.”

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you were home yet. I miss you.”

Jon collapsed on the bed and exhaled wearily. “I miss you too darlin’. And yes, I am home for the weekend.”

“Just the weekend?” he could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Yes, I have to meet up with the guys again on Monday and Tuesday,” Jon explained apologetically. “But it’s in Manhattan, so it ain’t far.”

“When can you meet up with me?” Erin asked slyly.

“When are you free?” Jon grinned, playing along.

“I was hoping I could have you all to myself sometime soon. I’m working like a dog, but I’ll have more free time after this week. How about next weekend?”

“What did you have in mind, there?”

There was a pause, and Jon smiled as he pictured the smirk on Erin’s lips. “Well, you know…” she drawled. “The usual – a nice dinner out, wild sex back at my place, a long movie with champagne, more wild sex…”

Jon laughed. “Is that all?”

“Did I mention the sex?”

“You do miss me, don’t you.”

“Baby, you got no idea.”

Jon laughed again. “All right, I think I can squeeze you in next weekend. It’s a date.”

Erin chuckled. “You’re too kind, thank you. So how was your trip?”

Jon let out an exasperated sigh in response. “Let’s just say I am thinking seriously of hibernating beneath my covers this weekend.”

“That fun, huh?”

“Meetings are never fun,” Jon shouldered the phone and began unbuttoning his jeans. “Even if they’re about music, I am not a fan of ‘em.”

“Same here. But at least I get to go home right afterward, not to a hotel room.”

“I didn’t even get the luxury half the time; we usually worked through the night.” He peeled off his socks and threw them in a heap along with his jeans, then pulled back the thick, welcoming bedcovers.

“Well I’m glad you’re home,” Erin said softly.

“Me too,” Jon sighed.

“You go get some sleep and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good. Night, baby.”

After he hung up, he realized he hadn’t mentioned the mysterious phone call. But then again, perhaps it was best not to tell her. She’d certainly worry, and there was no point in getting her all worked up over what was likely a stupid prank.

Jon pulled off his shirt, slid beneath the covers and sank gratefully into the enveloping comfort of the enormous bed. Realizing he didn’t need that pill after all, he reached over to flip off the bedside lamp…and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

_________________________


TThe next morning dawned cold and gray, thick with the promise of rain. And the steely sky did nothing to improve Max’s mood as he glared out the window, lost in thought. 

He’d decided two things while he’d sat up through the night, nursing beer after beer. 

One, Erin was stupider than he’d first thought. 

And two, he hated Jon Bon Jovi. 

Not just disliked or couldn’t stand. Forget the fact that he’d never met him. He hated the man. 

He’d known guys like Bon Jovi. Arrogant, puffed-up jackasses with the nerve to strut and swagger all over the place like they owned the world. Just because they had more money than the average Joe down the street. Just because they had bathrooms big enough to house the entire New York Giants lineup. Money wasn’t everything. 

Power was more important. But Max believed it should be bestowed upon those who deserved it and who would utilize it well for the advantage of the greater good. Not for those who liked to touch and use it because they felt entitled to with multimillion-dollar oceanfront homes. 

Like his asshole of a stepfather. 

Max had been five when his real father had walked out on them, leaving his mother to raise Max alone. Struggling her way through a string of jobs that never lasted more than a month, they were always dangerously close to living out on the streets. 

Max was too young to understand much about finances – all he knew was that his mother was gone twelve hours out of the day, and when she was home she usually had a date with some guy named Jack Daniels. The overstuffed, dilapidated armchair that sat in front of the tiny black and white television had a permanent imprint from her backside, and it was a rare sight in the year following the divorce for that chair to be empty in the evenings. 

That changed when his mother met Lewis. Wealthy, charming, and handsome, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why she fell for him. They began dating and the armchair started emptying at night…sometimes all night. 

Lewis promised to take care of her and her son – the mousy little boy who hardly ever spoke and shuffled his feet when he walked. Max’s mother believed him. They married two years after his father had left. 

Max snorted out loud from the memory. Lewis was the only other man he had ever truly hated. Like Bon Jovi, he thought he had power because of his money.

Neither of them deserved power. Bon Jovi was obviously too hungry for it, and that was dangerous. He fell into the classic category of stupid rock stars with inflated egos who made their way through women like they were on a conveyor belt, trying to satisfy their constant hard-on. And Erin had fallen victim to his irresistible charm and his undoubtedly appealing endowment…

Max rubbed his face agitatedly. He could come up with a thousand ways to describe Bon Jovi and insult him from the privacy of his own home, but that wasn’t enough. He thought he'd been fair in warning the man to stay away from Erin...it's not safe to be around her. The scare tactic might not have been well thought-through; from his vantage point down the street from Jon's place, Max had already started on the beers when the limo turned into the drive. But he'd dropped the alert bomb. Bon Jovi had been fairly warned. 

His anger had simmered for quite some time now, and he knew eventually it would explode. Like a soda bottle kept under pressure for too long. The plastic container was only so strong for the gasses within…and Max’s bottle would burst soon.

It was only a matter of time.

Thursday, March 26, 2009