Chapter Ten

Abby sighed in delicious pleasure. Her leg was out of plaster and, providing she took it easy for a few days, there was no need to use the crutches. Christmas was a week away and she had no idea what to do about getting Jon a present. It wasn’t like she had any money at the moment and she felt embarrassed at asking him for a loan to buy a present from him. Jon had gone out for a few hours to pick someone up from the airport. Abby’d been half asleep when he’d left and hadn’t really listened to what he’d said.

She flicked through what seemed like a hundred channels on the massive Plasma TV, smiling like a child. She couldn’t believe there were so many channels to choose from. She could only remember there being four back home and it always seemed to her that there was nothing on any of them. The smile slipped slightly as she continued to flick through numerous adverts and really bad programmes. Maybe nothing had changed. There still didn’t seem to be anything on the TV. As she idly flicked something caught her eye and she hurriedly flicked back to be confronted by Jon, complete with bandana, prancing about a stage, singing into a microphone with scarves tied to it. She turned the volume up and smiled, in spite of herself, as the lyrics to ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ blasted through.

She smiled as she thought back to the previous evening. After the wonderful shower she and Jon’d shared, he’d taken it upon himself to introduce her to the Bon Jovi family.

---------------------------------------------

“And this was taken in Moscow. You see the look on Richie’s face? Slightly shocked yeah? He’d just realised that the girl he’d been screwing the night before was married and that her husband was the KGB officer stood next to him in the photo. Thankfully for him, she kept quiet about it, which was good for us, as I’d hate to think what coulda happened ya know?” Jon chuckled as long buried memories bubbled up and broke the surface.

Abby laughed at the thought of Richie and the KGB Officer’s wife. Jon had played a selection of songs to her from all the albums earlier that day. She’d found them melodic, truthful and catchy. Some had made her want to head bang along, some were downright silly, like ‘99 in the shade’, and a few had made her cry, like ‘Make a memory’. One, in particular had made her smile. ‘You had me from hello’ seemed almost prophetic.

--------------------------------------------------

She lounged back, letting the familiar yet new strains of the song wash over her. Richie was playing his solo with what looked like a loo brush sitting on his head, Abby giggled to herself as she took in the supposed fashions that were all the rage in the 80’s. The programme seemed to be a look back to the 80’s and she was rewarded when the next video flashed up to reveal Simon Le Bon stalking through the jungles of Sri Lanka ‘Hungry like a Wolf’. Abby’s jaw hung open as she watched the object of many a teenage fantasy turn his bright blue eyes to her and sing. Another pair of blue eyes entered her consciousness and she found herself, not enjoying the trip down memory lane, but comparing the two men and finding that the ice blue eyes she’d come to know over the past few days were much sexier than Simon’s ever had been. She was so lost in her mental comparison she jumped when she felt a feather light kiss on her head and hands on her shoulders.

“Hey babe.” Jon said, looking up to the TV, “Mmm, you must be in heaven.” he murmured as Simon and the boys lounged and played on the beach.

“Shit Jon, this place is even bigger than I remember.” a deep, caramel laced voice rang out from behind them.

Abby watched as a tall, dark haired, broad shouldered man came into her view and sat down on the sofa next to her. Kind, yet devilish brown eyes fixed their gaze upon her. Abby had to hold back a giggle for the lost loo brush as she took in the short haircut.

“Hi, you must be Abby. Jon’s told me nothing about you.” the man said, taking her hand and pressing a warm kiss on her pulse point.

“Richie, down boy.” Jon said, smiling, yet his eyes were tight.

“Abby, meet Richie. Richie, meet Abby, and hands off.” the warning was there for those that would listen.

Richie raised an eyebrow. Last time he’d heard that tone was when he’d been introduced to Dot and had, inadvertently, flirted with her.

Abby smiled at Richie, who waggled his eyebrows back at her. He was a devastatingly sexy man, who wore his sexuality like a war medal; with pride.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Like the hair.” she blurted, unable to hold in the peal of laughter that had been dangerously close to the surface.

“Did I miss something?” Richie asked, smiling. He always smiled when an attractive woman laughed. As long as she was looking at him he didn’t care if he was butt of the joke or not. Make ‘em laugh and you’re halfway there.

“We were looking through old photo’s yesterday.” Jon explained, leaning on the back on the sofa, his fingers playing softly yet possessively with errant curls of Abby’s hair.

“Oh, did he show the one in Moscow? Christ I nearly shit myself when Kat turned up with her husband. Fuckin’ KGB! I thought I was dead for sure, ‘specially as he was armed with a fuckin’ Uzi. Jeez, I had to go change my shorts!” Richie laughed, good naturedly.

Jon laughed as another memory surfaced.

“Turned out all he wanted was a fuckin’ autograph. Still not sure what the fuck I wrote on that photo. Could’ve been Mickey fuckin’ Mouse for all I know. All I know is I was out of there like a shot after that photo was taken. Headed back to the hotel and stayed there for the rest of the tour.”

“You still didn’t learn anything from that though, did ya, prick.” Jon bantered.

“You can talk, Mr ‘I’ll screw anything with a zip code’.” Richie countered, smiling.

“Fuck you man.” Jon shot back.

Abby sat, in amazement, watching and listening to the banter between the two men. It was obvious they were as close as two people could get without being one. It was fascinating to watch the interaction and ease between them.

Jon squeezed himself onto the sofa between Richie and Abby. He trusted Richie with his life, but knew him too well to trust him with his woman. At least, sometimes.


Richie raised an eyebrow as Jon’s butt came to close for comfort as he settled onto the sofa and grinned to himself. Oh man, Jonny had it bad for this one and he, for one, wasn’t gonna let him get away with it.

“So Abby, are you happy with this reprobate? Cause I’m happy to take over if you’re not.”

Abby laughed, linking her arm though Jon’s as she replied.

“I’m happy, very happy, and if he’s a reprobate then let me be damned too.” she smiled.

Richie looked at Jon who had turned to look at him and froze for a second as pure unadulterated anger flashed across his face for a split second. Richie’s eyes widened, then he recovered his stance.

“Ah Abs, you don’t know what you’re missing darlin’” but his heart wasn’t in it.

Making a show of it, he stretched, hearing his joints crack and pop.

“Well folks, I am shattered. Guess my age is catching up with me as flying ain’t that fun anymore. ‘Specially flying commercial. Jon, you wanna show me which room I’m in?” Richie got up and stood, smiling to hide the hurt.

“Yeah sure.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on Abby’s temples, before getting up and walking, stiff shouldered out of the room.

Abby turned back to the marathon ‘return to the 80’s’ on the TV and was soon immersed in memories of Cyndi Lauper and ‘Girls wanna have fun’.


Richie picked his overnight case up and followed Jon up the wooden staircase. He walked along the wood and glass bridge until they were both out of sight of Abby. He was angry; no, scratch that, he was furious.

He waited until Jon opened the door of the spacious guest room to say something.

“I’ll say this and say it once so you listen to me. It’s only because of what you’ve gone through over the past few months that I haven’t ripped you a new asshole. You ever look at me like that again and I will walk. I don’t need the work, you get me?” Richie’s voice was low and quiet, always a bad sign coming from such an exuberant person.

Jon stared at his friend, poker faced.

“Now you gonna tell me what that display of anger down there was about? Or do I ask Abby?”

“Leave her out of this, man.”

“Start talking Jonny.”

The two men faced each other, neither willing to give in. The band had always thrived on the huge egos of the two front men and Richie had often seen Jon angry, but never as intensely and never directed at himself and he wanted to know why.

Slowly Jon sagged as if the air had gone out of him. Tears appeared in the corners of his over bright eyes and Richie watched, appalled, as one ran down Jon’s face.

“Jon? What the fuck is going on?”

“I’m fucked Rich. I just can’t do this anymore. The band, the music, the tours. I just…can’t. I’ve had enough, man. Just too fuckin’ tired. I’m old and,” he faltered slightly, breathing deeply to regain his somewhat composure, “I’m quitting. I ain’t gonna do another album.”

“What the fuck?” Richie exclaimed, sinking onto the plush king sized bed.

What ever he’d been expecting, and he’d been expecting something it hadn’t been that. He’d watched as Jon had withdrawn into himself over the previous few months and knew something would have to give but had never thought in his wildest dreams, and he’d had a few of those, that it would ever be the music that gave.

“Is it because of Abby?” Richie asked, shock evident on his handsome face.

“No… well… partly… but… no, I’ve been thinking this over for months now. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in what I was doing, what the band where doing and trying to run the whole damn corporation by myself then what happened would never have happened, and now I’ve met someone I care for deeply,” he had a moment of insight as he realised he really did care deeply for Abby, “I’m not gonna waste a moment with her. So it ends, here.”

“Jon, please. What I said about walking, I was just angry man.” Richie said, unable to believe what Jon had said.

“I know, and you were right, you should’ve torn me a new one. In fact if people hadn’t been so damned afraid of tearing me new one then maybe she’d…” he shook his head as another tear rolled down his face.

He turned to face his best friend.

“I have a new chance Richie and I’m not going to mess this one up like I did before. Look you can stay here if you want, you’re more than welcome to, hell you’re my brother, but please don’t try to change my mind. The paperwork’s already signed, just needs to be sealed and delivered that’s all.”

“When were you gonna tell us?” Richie asked, his mind going off in all sorts of directions.

“New Year.”

Richie’s shoulder sagged as he realised that he wasn’t going to be able to argue with him.

“Whatever man,” he smiled at the face he’d come to know and love deeply over the previous 25 years and saw tiredness, rage and something he’d not seen before. Defeat.

With a groan he buried his head in his hands, a lone tear dripping down his face as he heard the lock snick into place as Jon left.