Page 62 of The First Chord

Amber smiled and I rubbed my fist against my chest against the pain that Jimmy was causing her. Without thinking I reached for her hand and held it tight. As an afterthought I almost pulled away, but when her long, cool fingers curled around mine I put our hands to my chest. Amber pulled in a breath, it was ragged and uncertain. Her eyes hesitant and ever watchful as I dropped my head to kiss her delicate fingers.

“What are we doing here, Ronnie?” she asked in a soft voice, barely above a whisper.

My throat was dry as a bone as my gaze grazed over her beautiful face. She wore an expression of worry, mixed with excitement and of hope, so I stopped looking. I didn’t want to find any guilt there.Ididn’t want to feel that guilt.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, wrapping my other hand around our joined ones.

A single bob of the head and a sharp inhale. “Probably more than anyone I’ve trusted before.”

Relief flooded through me. “Just remember that. Whatever happens over the next few weeks and months, I will always have your back. You will be my priority. Not my career, nor the next record, nor merchandise sales. You.”

“Ronnie, I don’t expect—”

“I know. I do, though. I expect everyone to make sure that he comes nowhere near you. Doesn’t even breathe on you. That, Amber, is what we are doing. What I’m doing. Anything else, we wait and see.”

“I know how I feel.” She chewed on her lip. “I know what’s in my head and my heart, but I’m scared and I’m wary and…” Blowing out a breath, she dropped her head back. I gave her the time, until her gaze slowly returned to mine. “And I’m married. To a man who has done everything possible to make me hate him. Yet, like an idiot, I feel ashamed that I’m growing feelings for someone else. Someone kind and sweet. Someone who I trust to have my back and whowillput me first.”

It didn’t matter what we were both feeling or wanting because there was another man in her life. A man she felt that she had some moral responsibility to. A man who didn’t even know how to spell the word responsibility. Yet, I wouldn’t expect anything else from her. She was a good woman who I knew I would fight for when the time was right.

“It’s all going to be okay,” I whispered. “Every single thing will work out and then when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

My lungs constricted when she leaned forward and dropped a kiss to my cheek. It was the best kiss that I’d ever had.

“I should try and get some sleep,” she said quietly, dropping her socked feet to the floor. “You should, too.”

Nodding, I kept hold of her hand until she was clear of the table. “Leave your mug, I’ll wash it.”

“Okay. Night, night.”

When she was gone, I finally let out a breath, relieved that she was safe above me and not on the bus following ours. If I did nothing else in life, I’d make sure that was always the case.

Taking the mugs over to the sink, I was surprised when I heard Terry call my name.

“You alright?” I asked, pulling the curtain back. “Did you want me for something?”

Terry glanced at me as the passing motorway lights reflected in his glasses. “Checking that you’re okay.”

“Me?” I looked over his shoulder to see there were biscuit crumbs on his Black Sabbath tour t-shirt and a half empty packet of custard creams in the cup holder.

“Yes, doodle head, you. There’s no one else in my personal space, is there?”

“You invited me,” I protested.

He made a scoffing noise and indicated to change lanes. “So?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Was I? Well, weirdly I was. My chat with Amber had given me hope.

“Yes, Terry. I’m great. Are you?”

“Always.” His concentration went back to the road ahead.

“Shall I go then?”

“Yep.”

Frowning with a shake of my head, I turned to leave but was stopped by Terry’s gruff tone.

“Keep patient, Ronnie,” he said. “When the time is right you’ll get your happy ending. You and that lovely girl. Now fuck off.”

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