Page 12 of No Limits

And then the phone rings. At first, I pay little mind to it since it’smyphone that’s ringing. But when it stops and then immediately starts again, I know something is wrong.

Quickly, I tug my phone from the nightstand, expecting a call from Mom or Don. But it’s a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello.”

“Hi, uh, is Lochlyn there?”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Irritation pricks at my chest. Why would somebody be calling me, looking for him?

As I’m asking the question, Lochlyn curls around me, kissing my shoulder.

“This is Trey, from Rolling Thunder. We need to as—” Before I can even hear the rest of the sentence, Lochlyn has plucked the phone from my hand.

“Hey, Trey, man. What’s going on?” This isn’t a social call; he isn’t asking casually. He has his business tone.

Frustrated, I push myself away from Lochlyn and out of bed, yanking on clothes while he asks a few more questions and responds in quick spurts.

The second he hangs up, I pounce.

“Why do they even have my phone number, Lochlyn?”

“I needed to give an emergency contact. I never thought it would come up.” He’s out of bed and tugging on pants.

“I’m not okay with this. You should have checked with me first.” Anger builds in my chest, rising like lava before I explode.

“What would you expect me to do, Shay? I need something.” His tone is frustrated, bordering on anger. What right does he have to be angry?

“Then we should get a home phone. I don't want these people having my number.”

“These people? What’s that supposed to mean?” He freezes while pulling a shirt over his head, leaving it trapped at his upper arms. I refuse to let his chest deter me.

“It means musicians, Lochlyn. The people you work for.”

“They’re my clients. I need to be accessible.”

“All the time? Every hour of the day? It’s a Saturday. You’re not allowed to have days off?” There’s no way that’s true. If it is, I’m demanding he quit and find a new job because this isn’t sustainable.

“You know it’s not that simple.” It’s grumbled out as he bends over, pulling on socks.

“It should be.”

“I can't believe you’re doing this right now.” His hand hits the bed as he stands tall and turns to me, his eyes blazing.

“You can't believeI’mdoing this? Lochlyn, it’s our Goddamn anniversary. You told me you were giving me the whole day and turned your phone off, but failed to mention that you gave outmyphone number.For emergencies?” I use finger quotes for the last part. I’m sure there’s no true emergency here. There never really is, but he goes dutifully each and every time.

“I don't have time for this, Shay. I have to go.” There’s the brush off. No time. No time to argue with me, no time to stand up for us. No time for me. Period.

“Go? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorry. I have to.”

“No, Lochlyn, you don't. This isn't part of your job description.” I wave my hand up and down his body as though saying his need to put clothes on, to leave our bed, isn’t necessary.

“They trust me, Shay. I have to be there or that trust stops.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. They’re taking advantage of you. Of your kindness.” It’s an unfortunate reality I didn’t want to bring up. I’m pretty sure it’s happened for Lochlyn’s whole life; it’s certainly what his parents did. But he can’t see beyond the call of duty.

“I can't fight with you right now. I have to go. I’ll make it up to you, and we’ll go to a nice dinner. I shouldn't be more than an hour or two.” Giving me a kiss on the head, he leaves before I can say anything else.

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