Touch pt 7

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Sad_Girl

Blue Crack Supplier
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Disclaimer: Absolutely not true. Just a fun little fantasy inspired by but in no way meant to represent the true actions/feelings of any person(s) mentioned within

“Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you
I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…


“We were starting to think you ran off for good.” Bono greeted Larry as he strolled into the arena for the afternoon sound-checks. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him as he walked past; there was a strut in his walk which they hadn’t seen in years. He smiled broadly at them as he climbed the stairs to the stage.

“Yeah, sorry. We hit some rain and had to wait it out.” He told them as he picked up a set of drumsticks. He slipped his ear-piece in and clipped the receiver to his belt, and still everyone was watching him as if waiting for something. “What?” He finally asked, looking around. The stage hands and other technicians were polite enough to return to what they were doing, but the rest of his band mates exchanged glances with each other and then looked back at him again.

“Have a good night didja?” Bono finally asked with a smirk. Adam chuckled as Larry’s smile actually grew wider than it would have seemed possible, his cheeks flooding with color.

“None of yer bloody business! Now are we gonna play or wot?” He retorted, seating himself behind the drumset.

“I guess we’re gonna play.” Bono said to Edge playfully. After the sound-checks, which never took them all that long anymore, Larry was shrugging back into his leather jacket with his keys in hand.

“You off again?” Adam asked.

“I’ll be back. I have some errands that need to be done.” Larry informed his curious friend.

“Errands, is that what you’re callin’ her now?” Bono teased.

“Not funny.” Larry told him, fighting the smile which wanted to remain on his face despite his friends slightly disrespectful words.

“Does this mean I’m not getting my massage today?” Adam asked, stretching his back and arms.

“You’ll get yer fecking massage.” Larry told him as he turned to leave, then on second thought, he turned back and added.

“But you’re wearing underwear from now on, mister.” His lip twitching up at the corner letting them know it was said playfully. His friends laughed at this, not only because he was ordering Adam to stay at least partially clothed (Which was something he’d had to do more than once in the past) but because in a subtle way he was announcing to them that he was staking a claim to Ceili. Things were getting serious.

***********************************************************************

Ceili seemed to be somewhere else entirely, her mind a million miles from what she was supposed to be doing. She felt like she had been drugged or something; the colors seemed brighter, smells sweeter, food tasted better. Her mind was never far from that cabin, from the sound of Larry’s sweet accent saying ‘I love you too.’ Adam had teased her gently about her distraction, but no amount of teasing would have brought her down today.

She was cleaning up the massage table, and anticipating Larry’s return anxiously, when there was a knock on her door. She wondered for a moment if she had accidentally let it latch and therefore lock. Every one of her patients were comfortable enough with her now that they just strolled in when it came time for their appointment.

She tossed the used sheet and towel into the bathroom and hurried to open the door, suspecting (and hoping) that Larry was early. She was smiling when she opened the door, her heart beating excitedly. As soon as her eyes fell on the face of the person on the other side, however, her smile vanished and her heart blood ran cold.

“Roger!”

“Hello, Cecilia. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He greeted her, smiling in his all too familiar way. Most of the time, when a person smiles, it makes them seem more friendly, more approachable. When Roger smiled, it was always the herald of doom for Ceili. He may as well have been a snarling guard dog, the physiological reaction he elicited from her would have been the same.

He didn’t wait for an invitation, just pushed past her into the room, looking around casually. He let out a low whistle and nodded.

“Fancy little set-up you got here. Pretty nice digs for a woman who rubs people down for a living.” He said, his evil grin still in place.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, barely summoning enough breath to speak aloud.

“What am I…? I came to check in on my famous wife!” He exclaimed as if stating something obvious. “I seen you in the gossip books at the checkout lane when I was buying groceries.” He snarled, stepping in close, his massive form looming over her. She took a step back but ran into the wall.

“What do you want, Roger?” she asked, trying to muster some bravado and act as if he could not take everything from her.

“What do I want?” He laughed, a forced, sarcastic laugh which sent chills down her spine. “Ideally, I would have a good wife who hadn’t run off and started whoring herself out to some fancy boys.”

“If you leave now, I won’t call the police.” She offered, down to begging and bargaining. They had played this routine out more times than she could count. He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her back up against the wall, his face twisted up in anger.

“Is that right? Well Cecilia, I don’t care. Call the cops. That’ll suit me just fine, because the press will be right behind them. I plan on milking your little game for all it’s worth. The gossip papers will pay me a pretty penny for my side of the story. They just love this sort of shit.” He informed her, watching as her face turned red, then crimson, and then nearly purple before he loosened his grip on her throat.

“Roger, please, don’t. I’ll pay you! I can pay you to be quiet…” She begged, the tears burning her eyes as her world began to fall apart around her ears.

*********************************************************************

“Done with your errands?” Bono greeted Larry from just outside the fire door to the hotel. He leaned his back up against the wall, squatting down to rest while finishing his smoke. He had nearly kicked the habit, but occasionally he still succumbed to the temptation.

“Yeah. Can I ask you something? Just between us?” Larry asked, leaning up against the brick wall beside him, withdrawing his own pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lighting one.

“Sure, of course.” Bono replied, his eyebrows drawing together in curious concern. Larry took a long drag off his cigarette, holding it between his lips while his hands searched his pockets. Bono’s eyes grew wide when he saw the small velvet box Larry produced.

“Holy shit, Lardence what the hell are you thinking?” He gasped, holding out his hand for the box so he could examine the item more carefully. Larry handed it over as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out a long stream of smoke.

“Crazy, I know. Fuck, you know how I’ve always felt about marriage but…” he shrugged and took another long drag. Bono opened the box to find a Claddagh ring, a symbol of love, friendship, and fidelity which had a long Irish history. The design itself was of two hands holding a crowned heart, in this case the heart being the biggest of the three diamonds, two smaller diamonds gracing the crown.

“Did you have it custom made?” He asked, examining the ring closely.

“Sort-of. Found a jeweler who makes all his own stuff right there, in a shop in the back. I stopped there this morning, right after I dropped her off here. He’d started making a couple of Celtic twists and Claddagh’s and I just told him what I wanted him to do to finish it. I had to pay him a little extra to close up his shop for the afternoon and finish it fast.” He explained, tossing the cigarette to the sidewalk and mashing it out with the toe of his boot as he took the ring back.

“So you’re serious about this? And in a hurry?” Bono asked, still in shock. Larry smiled broadly and laughed out loud at his friends reaction.

“I’m sure. I’m serious.” He informed him, wrapping an arm around the shorter man’s shoulder as the entered the hotel through the fire door. “But not necessarily ready for everyone else to know, yet. I want to do it right. In fact, I was thinking maybe you, Edge and Adam might be able to help me work that out.”

“Really? You want Adam to help you plan your proposal?” Bono joked.

“Mmm… good point. Maybe not.” Larry laughed.

“Lar? I’m happy for you.” Bono informed his friend after they had taken the elevator up to their floor. Larry smiled crookedly and ran his fingers over the velvet on the box in his pocket. They were almost to Ceili’s room when they heard the distinctive sound of flesh striking flesh. Larry’s face tightened down in concern and he bolted for her half open door.

There was a tall man, probably two inches taller than Larry himself was, with messy dark brown hair and the meanest eyes he’d ever seen, standing threateningly over Ceili. She had her back to the wall, her hand clutching her sore face where he’d hit her. That was all he needed to see.

In one bounding step he was across the room, grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around so that they were face to face. The man had a good fifty pounds more weight than Larry, but Larry had the advantage. Not only did he have the incredible upper body strength of a drummer, but he had passion running through Irish blood.

“What the hell?” Roger demanded as he was knocked off balance. Larry’s fist made contact with the man’s face with a sickening crunch, blood spurting out of his nose. He hit him once more before Roger managed to land a blow to Larry’s stomach and knock the wind out of him.

“Larry, Stop it!” Ceili was crying, trying desperately to get in between the two brawling men. Bono grabbed her around the waist and dragged her back, out of the way, holding her tight. “No, please! Don’t!” She screamed, struggling blindly to get away. The noise brought everyone on the floor running to investigate, including the security guards who were much better prepared to break the two men up.

“What the hell is going on?” One of them demanded. Everyone started talking at once, at first.

“Shut up! Shut yer gobs!” Edge demanded, stepping in and glaring at all of those involved in the fistfight. “Larry?” he asked, turning and looking at his long time friend for an explanation.

“He hit Ceili.” Larry growled, still ready to hurt the man for his crime.

“Who is he?” Edge asked, looking at the man who was sneering back at them in disgust.

“I don’t bloody know…” Larry was saying. As if it mattered who he was, he’d seen him attacking the woman he loved! It didn’t seem to him that anything the man could say would matter. Edge turned and looked at the man for an answer. Roger could tell that he had the power, even if they hadn’t realized it yet. He actually smiled, first at Edge and then Larry. Then he looked him in the eye and told him coldly,

“I’m her husband.”
 
This story is making me look at Larry in a whole new way (still a Bonogirl at heart :drool: ). I love it!
 
I hope everything turns out fine for Ceili and Larry! I hope Larry comes to no harm. Or i'ma go kill that Roger guy myself! :mad:
 
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