I chuckle and run my finger down her cheek. I say, "Remember Dylan, my best friend?"

She nods and points to her.

I say, "Yeah, her. She's my fiance now. Even though a night with you sounds great, I have to excuse myself."

In a high pitched voice, she says, "What the f.u.c.k are you doing over here then?"

I stand up and say, "Yeah, asking myself that same question. See you around."

She gets up and says, "Your loss, and if you remember correctly you'll agree." I can't help but smile, she's right.

The amount of drinks I've had tonight has caught up to me. Walking over to Lyrics, I see two of her. Tyler is standing in front of her with one hand on her knee, which of course I see crystal clear. He pulls it off the moment I get close enough for him to notice me. I step in front of Lyrics pushing Tyler back without touching him. I wrap my hand around the back of her hair and tilt her head up with a tug. Her reaction tells me that I crossed a line, probably many, but my kiss is forceful and relentless.

As I pull her closer into me, I move my mouth from her lips to her ear and growl, "Don't ever let him touch you again. You are mine. Got it?" She gently pushes me back and stands up. I turn to Tyler and say, "Dude, you're still here?"

Lyrics grabs my hand in a not so loving way, looks at Tyler and says, "I'll talk to you later. Sorry."

Tyler shakes his head and says, "Think about it, Dylan."

She begins to tug me through the bar towards the exit. I am so f.u.c.king drunk it's hard to keep steady. I yank her back into me and we both d.a.m.n near fall over.

She yells, "What the f.u.c.k, Tanner?"

I smirk and slur, "What the f.u.c.k to me, really? What the f.u.c.k to you! You're supposed to think about it, remember? Tyler told you to think about it, right? Think about what?"

She pulls away from me and says, "Nothing. You're wasted and need to go home and sleep it off. What the h.e.l.l, Tan."

Everything in me is screaming, "Let it go," but my intoxicated brain won't allow me to. The moment we step outside, in a lame attempt to calm the situation, I ask, "Where's the taxi?"

Lyrics says, "I stopped drinking hours ago, as soon as I saw how f.u.c.king drunk you were getting. I'm driving."

Without missing a beat, I blurt out, "Hey, I can catch a taxi if you want to go back in and hang out with your buddy." f.u.c.k, wish I didn't just say that.

Lyrics slithers up close to my face and says, "You know, in seventeen years, you have never treated me like this. You're right, I could go back inside and you know what, I could go home with him. Is that what you really want?"

What I want to say is h.e.l.l no, but instead this comes out, "Listen, baby, you can do what you want. Maybe you should go get Tyler. At least he didn't allow himself to get the s.h.i.t kicked out of him and f.u.c.king drugged and f.u.c.king f.u.c.ked." I stumble to the truck and rage overwhelms me. I hear the skin peel away from my knuckles with the first punch to the tailgate but I feel no pain. Everything turns black and I hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing as I repeatedly take my anger and humiliation out on the innocent tailgate of my truck.

"Stop it, please stop it. Tanner, please stop!" Lyric's scream jolts me out of my fit. Hearing my best friend cry like that and seeing her shake with fear brings me to my knees. I don't want to hurt her like this, h.e.l.l, I don't want to hurt her at all. The feeling of wanting to disappear and get away from everything and everyone that reminds me of who I used to be is growing stronger and stronger.

Chapter 6.

'In your eyes, I see the uncomfortable face of a stranger.'

Lyrics The realization that this is going to be a h.e.l.l of a lot harder than I antic.i.p.ated hits me like a Mack truck. No matter what either of us has gone through in the past, being around each other made it instantly better. This is different though. This isn't some petty heartbreak. This is something neither of us is remotely prepared for. The moment he saw me standing in the doorway of his hotel room in Australia, his expression was obvious and clearly he was not happy about me being there. It's only been a couple of days since this happened, but the feeling of wanting to help him and being pushed away is driving me insane. For the first time, I feel uncomfortable with Tanner.

As we pull into the parking lot of the apartment, I ask, "Are you staying at my place or yours?"

With a wobbly head and slurred speech, he looks at me with sad, once-full-of-life amber eyes and says, "Don't care." I help him out of his ridiculously high truck and without saying more than needed, wrap my arm around his waist as he slumps over me and we walk to the door. I open the door and somehow manage not to drop him on the way in. Making our way toward the bedroom, Tanner mumbles, "I love this place. My best friend lives here." I don't know whether to laugh or cry from his comment. I just say, "Let's get you to bed."

He stumbles and falls onto the bed and it's more than obvious that he's not going to be much if any help in getting him undressed. As I peel his shirt off, I notice that the unwanted souvenirs Jennifer scratched into his body are almost faded away. With each gentle kiss I place on his beautiful body, the thought of justice washes over me like a bubble bath filled with beautiful aroma therapy. Not the kind of justice that may or may not happen in a courtroom. I mean real justice, human justice. An eye-for-a-f.u.c.king-eye type of justice! Just as I mentally drift into an evil takedown plan, the familiarity of his heat radiates from his hand as he reaches up and touches my face.

He whispers, "I love you." His eyes shut and he's out.

I whisper in his ear, "I love you too. Always have and always will."

As I am leaving the room, my notebook catches my eye and I stall in my tracks. Music has always been my cure-all, even before I met Tanner. I've been so caught up in planning our wedding that I haven't written anything for months. I walk over to the table and grab my notebook with apologetic hands, open the drawer and grab a few pencils out, and head to the couch. So many emotions have taken my brain over that I don't even know what I want to write about. Maybe I should write a death metal song about how I'm going to murder Jennifer? Nah, she's not worthy of being mentioned in my notebook. I don't want her near my music.

I'm sitting on my couch with notebook in hand and absolutely nothing comes to me. All I can do is stare at my ring. Five months ago, when he asked me to marry him, nothing ever felt more right. There's a part of me that always knew he'd be my husband one day. It's my Tanner, of course we'd be married. It's not what happened that is killing me. It's that cold look in his eyes...the look of darkness and hate. It feels like the boy I have known and been side-by-side with for over seventeen years is gone and I'm not sure how to get him back or if he'll ever be that man again.

Unable to focus, I toss my notebook on the couch and climb into bed as quietly as possible. The alcohol escaping from his breath is practically making me sick but I can't take my eyes off him. He's so beautiful. The way his hair is falling onto his face, framing his eyes and lips makes him look so vulnerable and soft. I gently brush his hair back with my finger; he tosses a bit and quickly falls back asleep. I mold my body to his and drift off to sleep with him.

The phone rings and I jump out of my skin. I grab my phone and realize that it wasn't my phone ringing. I look at the clock and it is 9 a.m. I shake Tanner and say, "Babe, your phone is going off."

He peers through one eye at me and says, "I'll call Mom back." I lie back down and the phone rings again. Tanner raises his voice, "Are you f.u.c.king serious?" He grabs the phone and says in a s.h.i.tty tone, "What?" His face turns stone cold as he stands up and walks out of the room. I can hear him speaking but can't make out the words. As he's heading back to the bedroom, he says, "Thanks, bro. Talk to you soon." He tosses the phone on the dresser and gets back into bed without saying a word.

After a minute pa.s.ses, I ask, "Who was that on the phone?"

He looks at me, kisses my forehead and says, "What time is my doctor appointment today?"

I look at him and ask him, "What the f.u.c.king f.u.c.k, Tan? Who was on the phone with you?"

He rolls his eyes and says, "It was Chip. Is that okay with you, Mommy?" He throws the covers away from himself and begins getting dressed. He says in a way that makes me want to throat punch him, "Please tell me what time my appointment is."

I say, "2:30"

Tanner turns around and runs his finger down my face and says, "Lyrics, I love you more than anybody else on this planet, but you gotta give me some s.p.a.ce right now. Chip called me with some information that I need. That's all you need to know." I wanted to punch him in his broken nose.

Being very careful of my tone, I say, "Tanner, n.o.body knows you like I do, so please don't ever speak to me like that again. I'm not some idiot groupie, I'm your fiance. If I have a question, I expect to get a G.o.dd.a.m.n answer. Are we clear?"

Tanner grabs his keys and says, "Crystal clear. See ya later." I pull away when he leans forward to kiss me. Tanner looks at me and looks down as he walks away. I'm trying to be patient and understanding but I feel like I'm in this alone. As soon as he leaves, I call Mom. Hearing Mom's voice instantly calms me.

She answers, "Hi sweetie, how are you? Did Tanner get an appointment?"

"Hi Mom. His appointment is at 2:30 today, and I'm not doing very well and Tanner sure as h.e.l.l isn't either. It's as if he is mad at me for this happening to him. Don't you think I feel bad enough? I mean, she hurt him because I punched her. I wish I'd killed her."

Mom cuts me off and says, "Oh, Dylan, I'm sorry sweetheart. This is going to take time for him, for both of you. I was researching men that were s.e.xually a.s.saulted by women and in almost every case it states that the men feel shame and weakness. Tanner is such a smart man and always so protective over those he loves. Imagine how he is feeling now."

Tears are flowing down my face like the Rio Grande. I say, "I know and I am trying to understand and be there for him but he won't let me in. It's always been me and Tanner, Mom. Why won't he let me in on this?"

"It has only been a couple of days, give him time. Maybe he needs a little s.p.a.ce right now."

"Yeah, he mentioned that right before he walked out."

"Brent and the kids are coming home next week and you two should plan on being there for a family dinner."

"Sounds good but I don't know about Tan. Guess we will see. Are they staying for Christmas?"

"Yes, they are. Call me after his appointment, please. Love you."

"Will do, love you too." I don't even think he wants me going to his doctor's appointment. h.e.l.l, I don't even know that he'll actually go.

Chapter 7.

'How can you understand me when I don't understand myself?'

Tanner Again, I hurt her. f.u.c.k, seventeen years I never said anything to hurt her and now, it's like I'm slowly ripping her heart out. Of course, I want to tell her everything but this is my cross to bear, not hers. I already put her through enough; she doesn't need to know everything. It's for her own good. No way would I let her get involved in this. It's just Chip and I and, of course, Jennifer. She's going to be the guest of honor. I shake my head just thinking about what Chip told me earlier and can't believe this is happening. What did I do to deserve this? Even if I was single when I began the shoot, I would have never touched Jennifer Temple. That girl is a s.k.a.n.ky wh.o.r.e and everybody knows it. She could get just about any guy she wants. She didn't f.u.c.k me because she wanted me. She f.u.c.ked me to hurt the one I love. She's pure evil. The thing that is p.i.s.sing me off the most is that I would bet she doesn't think she did anything wrong. In fact, she probably thinks she did me a favor. The thought of being frozen on that bed and watching her get off on me, makes me want to puke.

I shake my head in disgust and continue to drive. I don't know how to stop feeling this way. Truly, I really don't want to think about anything at all. Thinking is all I've f.u.c.king done and I'm tired of it. Worrying about who I'm hurting, what I say, how I say it...I just want to be numb. I run my hand through my hair and a flash of Jennifer pulling my hair as she licked my mouth makes me shiver with repulsion. It's 11:30 am which means I have three hours until my doctor's appointment. I put on some Texas country and crank the radio up loud, loud enough to block out all my thoughts. The barber pole spinning ahead in the distance catches my eye and I turn into the driveway and throw my car in park. Change is exactly what I need.

This man covered in tattoos, probably in his mid-thirties says, "Hey, bro, what can I do for you?"

I point to my hair and say, "I want this s.h.i.t gone. Don't know want I want and really don't care. Whatever you think, I truly couldn't care less."

The man reaches his hand out and says, "I'm Sebastian. Come and have a seat. You sure you want to cut that off?"

I shrug and say, "I'm Tanner."

He interrupts me with, "Dude, I know who you are. I've been to a few of your shows and saw you all over the news recently."

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, I'm sure."

He seats me in his chair and wraps the smock around me. Sebastian brushes my hair out and almost reluctantly grabs his scissors. He asks one more time, "You sure?" I nod yes. He cuts about 7 inches and it feels great as I watch the clumps whirl down to the floor. I'm not the same man, why should I pretend to be? He gathers the top of my hair and puts it in a ponytail, and then grabs the clippers off the counter. There is something comforting about the buzz from the clippers. Sebastian begins to ask me a question but stops himself. I look at him in the mirror and raise my eyebrows. He says, "I gotta ask man, what's Jennifer Temple like?" Just hearing her name made my blood boil.

I quickly reply, "She's an evil b.i.t.c.h; can't stand her." His look is of pure shock which makes me laugh a little on the inside.

"I thought y'all were a couple."

I shake my head no and the urge to tell somebody besides my family over takes me. I try to fight the urge and tell him I was joking but instead, I blab to a stranger.

"The pictures that have been pasted all over the media were taken after she drugged and raped me. I wouldn't touch that s.k.a.n.k with a bottle of antibiotics. She made it look like we are a couple just to hurt my fiance, Dylan. Jennifer said some crazy s.h.i.t to my girl and Dylan punched her in her face when we were in Germany, laid her out. To get back at her, she drugged me, had two guys kick my a.s.s, and then she raped me." I had no idea how good it would feel to tell somebody. I didn't realize that he turned the clippers off and is staring at me with disbelief and his jaw completely ajar.

He looks around as if searching for a sign of being punked, and asks, "Are you f.u.c.king with me?" I point to my broken nose and he just stares at me. That's the response I a.s.sumed I'd receive, which is why I haven't told anybody.

"I wish it was a joke, but yeah, that's the truth." He turns the clippers back on and then immediately turns them off.

"Why would she do that to you? Do women rape men? Man, I don't even know what to say."

I shrug and say, "You're the first person I've told besides my girl and family. Guess the barber really does know everything."

He smiles and turns the clippers back on. He says, "I kind of go by the same rules as a lawyer or a priest, client confidentiality. I won't blab about this, but I do hope you decide to get your justice on her."

"Thanks. Yeah, justice will be served." It takes him about thirty-five minutes of cutting and styling, but the finished product is exactly perfect. I can hardly recognize myself, which is exactly what I wanted. Granted, I look like a f.u.c.k boy, but whatever; it's a change.

I get to my appointment a little early. My heart beat is getting faster and louder. What if that s.k.a.n.k gave me a STD and I gave it to Lyrics? f.u.c.k! I get a text from Lyrics.

"Just want to tell you that I love you and I am here for you." My heart f.u.c.king snaps. I know she is here for me, but I just don't know if I can be there for her. I'm not the same person I was. I'm not that innocent man that can be carefree, playing music with his best friend. I'll never be that nave again. Look at where that got me.

I feel like an a.s.shole getting tested for STD's at thirty years old.

The doctor comes in and says, "Spoke to your mom earlier and she told me what happened." Okay, now I feel like an a.s.shole being thirty and having my Mommy call the doctor for me. I'm mortified.

Doctor Simon says, "Tanner, I've worked with your family for years and years. You have nothing to be embarra.s.sed about or ashamed. Have you filed a report yet?"

I look down and say, "No and I'm not going to."

"It's your choice, but I would like to encourage you to do so. Men rarely report rape by a woman because they think that because they became erect, somehow, they wanted it. That's bulls.h.i.t though. Most men get hard from a soft breeze. Of course, they will get hard from being touched. It's one of those automatic things. You are not at fault. What she did was criminal and she needs to pay the consequences." She will pay, that's for sure.

I look up at him and say, "Thank you, Doc, I just want to get the tests and get the h.e.l.l out of here."

He nods and says, "Let me look at your nose first." He walks over and places two fingers on either side of my nose. "Looks good kid. I would like to re-tape it so the pull is strong and it will settle a bit quicker." I shrug and he pulls the bandage off. He pulls a mirror up and aside from some bruising, it looks pretty much back to normal. He quickly replaces the tape and lets me know that the nurse will be in to draw blood and collect my urine. As he's walking out he turns around and says, "Son, this is not your fault." I nod and give a half smile. His words anger me. I keep hearing that it wasn't my fault, but it was. I should have never let my guard down around her, not even for the half of second it took her to drug my beer. So yeah, it was my f.u.c.king fault.

The nurse comes in and hands me a cup and then points to the bathroom. She says, "Make sure it is at least halfway full then bring it back in here. When you come back I'll get your blood drawn and get you out of here as quickly as possible."

I smile and quietly say, "Thank G.o.d." It's not easy p.i.s.sing when you know somebody is waiting for you. Finally, I can go. The ricochet of the pee shoots out of the cup and lands on my shirt. I am about half a second from losing my cool. I fill the cup halfway and set it on the counter, and then wash this p.i.s.s off my shirt. I walk back into the room, cup in hand and Nurse Ratchet begins to laugh as she notices the water circle on my shirt. As I begin to explain myself she cuts me off by saying, "Honey, it happens ten times a day. It's one of the highlights of working as a nurse."

I have to laugh. I say, "Well, I'm happy to entertain you."

She chuckles and gets serious. "Give me your arm honey. Let me get that blood out of you." Her face turns from hard to soft when she winks at me and gives me a genuine smile. Something about her is calming. She takes a dip stick and sets it in the cup of pee. She looks at me and says, "This will take a few minutes." There is a disgusting feeling in the pit of my stomach and all I can think about is Lyrics. If I show positive for something, that means that there's a large chance that I gave it to her, and I'd never forgive myself. The nurse steps back into the office and pulls the stick out of the pee. She looks at it and says, "Good news, everything is negative. Now we'll draw your blood and send it to the lab to double check and accurately test for a few other things." A breath of relief comes out of me. She answers my question before I can ask it. "They'll call you in two days with the results."

I smile and say, "Thank you."

She nods and says, "I really like the new haircut; makes you look distinguished." As she leaves, I feel my hair and totally that I forgot all about it.

I text Lyrics and let her know what the results were. Of course, she texts back right away. She offers to let my Mom know and I take her up on it. Not thrilled with my Mom for calling the doctor, but I know she did it out of love. I tell Lyrics that I'm going to the bar.