Joe laughed along with the others at his own joke, standing at the kitchenette buttering a piece of toast, wondering how he was going to get back into his seat by the window.
For some divine reason, the raven haired boy glanced down the ‘condo’ hallway and frowned upon seeing Lucy, his little sis, sitting on the make-shift bed, holding her head—looking quite distraught. The brunette was on the phone and whoever was on the other line seemed to be upsetting her. Joe Jonas couldn’t have that for his sister, the clouds to their heaven.
Once he glimpsed a lone tear trailing down her cheek, Joe knew she needed that one person she counted on the most—who loved her unconditionally.
“Nick.”
The curly haired teen looked up from a mouthful of food inquiringly at his brother. Joe nodded towards the back lounge wordlessly, his eyes hard with caring sibling instincts and concern.
Nick stood up from his spot on the end and peered down the hall. Everyone fell silent as his body locked in place and the scrambled emotions—mainly protectiveness and worry— radiated off the Jonas Brother in waves.
All joking and smiling Nick Jonas was gone. Defending, passionate husband appeared and strode towards his distressed wife determinedly.
-----
I shut my phone as emptiness threatened to overpower me. My predication had come true. My father was once again holding me prisoner. Days and nights I had prayed for my rescuer to save me, my amorous Nicholas.
Like magic, he kneeled down in front of me and touched my knees tenderly, apprehension etched on his remarkable face, “Lucy, what’s wrong?” I was quiet for a lingering second, willing myself not to burst into tears before I threw my arms around his neck and collapsed into him.
Nick responded instantly, wrapping those delicious arms around my waist, squeezing me gently. He knelt there, holding me comfortingly—exactly what I craved—needed. His curls brushed against me as he leaned his head against mine, letting me know silently that my selfless beloved was there, waiting.
Nicholas knew I would tell him in time. We were so connected with each other, he understood pressing me to talk wasn’t the answer. Usually I required physical reassurance first.
I sighed after my husband kissed my temple, administering those small gestures that always calmed me. I could feel his urgency though and I clung onto him harder, pressing my forehead into his soothing neck, “We have an audience.”
Nick glanced back and saw his brother’s and the girl’s watching them. As soon as he turned though, they scattered and hid from sight. They had some work to do on their cunningness; it was quite evident.
Running his hand through my hair several times mutely, Nick began to stand up, pulling me with him by the elbows, “Come on, we’ll talk outside.” I kept my head lowered, nestled into my husband’s side as he guided us to the bus door, ignoring the curious occupants we passed.
My black crotched boots and Nick’s converse met the concrete sidewalk and spotted his bodyguard and little brother. My husband turned and began walking around the bus, yet Big Rob yelled after us, “Where are you two going?” He paused, tightening his grip on my waist, “The field, we’ll stay close.”
Our lovable guard picked up Nick’s firm tone and knew it meant something personal and serious. I smiled weakly at him and Frankie as we headed for the open, overgrown field behind the bus.
I tried to stay in step with my beloved, but my stomach was churning and the long strides weren’t helping. “Nick, slow down.” When he remained unrelenting, I grabbed his arm with my free hand, now just being yanked after him by our clasped hands, “Please.”
I shrieked in surprise when he suddenly scooped me into his arms and trekked onward, his resolve solid to know what was troubling me. I inhaled his scent, letting it settle the fear bubbling within me until my husband finally set me down.
“Who called you, Lucy?”
My arms crossed automatically as I spoke, soft and frightened, “My Dad.”
And just like that, Nicholas’ firmness vanished, replaced with doting worry, swallowing me in a warm hug, “I’m sorry.” I gripped his shirt and nodded, both of us knowing the results of Bill’s last intervention.
It was there, surrounded by Nick’s presence and penetrating love that I vowed this wasn’t going to happen again. I wouldn’t allow my father to trample over me, make me feel useless…like nothing.
Nicholas and the Jonases had me come alive with my true self, the girl I had always been. Bill Roane only drew me into a bottomless hole of darkness, where no ounce of light—what my beautiful husband emitted—ever entered.
Nick let out a breath against me, not relinquishing his loving grasp, “What did he say?” I too exhaled, “Putting his message in actual civil text, he is absolutely furious about our marriage. He ordered me to fly back to Buffalo where he lives and never see anyone again.” I paused, clutching Nick’s arms as the chilly breeze picked up, “He-he said I was going to annul the marriage and rambled on about how he hid me from this, meaning you, earlier.”
I let go and ran a hand through my hair, pacing in front of my beloved, who crossed his arms, “I just don’t understand what happened to us. We used to have such a strong father/daughter relationship. Then, one night destroyed everything and he became this coldhearted man with an insane notion that you’re manipulating me, dangerous…” I stopped and looked up at Nick, my eyes pleading, “How can he be so cruel? Nicholas, why?”
He enveloped me in another hug as a shiver ran the length of my body and I clamped my eyes closed to stop the tears. My husband cupped the back of my neck, leaning his jaw beside my head, “I don’t know, Luce. A lot was changed that night…and I wish I had the answers. You don’t deserve any of this, baby. You shouldn’t have to deal with this lunacy.”
I sighed, “Yet I do.”
I retracted from his arms a bit, only to lock eyes, “I’m going to fly out today…” Nick’s face saddened and hardened in an instant, “And just lay out the real story for him. No one dares talk about you or the family in such a dreadful, nonsensical way…ever. I won’t let him get away with that foulness and untruth.”
Those sculpted lips touched mine, “I’ll go with you.” I rested my forehead on his jaw and closed my eyes, “You can’t. To put his threat decently, you come with me and…” I withdrew to gaze upon Nick with tears flooding my vision. He cupped my jaw in his wonderfully large, warm hands; fear plainly on his face as I uttered the only words that could strike real terror into our relationship. “And I’ll never see you again.”
Nicholas pressed his cheek against mine, still holding my neck, “Lucy…” I bit my lip, taking a moment to collect my voice, “I won’t lose you, Nick. I can’t.” I pulled back just to take his face in my own hands, perseverance wielding my emotions, “I will fix it…and come back to you without having my father think of us…you, this way. Nor have given into his threats. I love you…more than anything.”
We drew each other in for a kiss and my husband yanked me closer, arms pulling my small waist into his hard chest, before lifting me off the ground.
I crushed his neck with my arm and held a fist full of his curls, moving our lips fiercely together.
It was certainly the roughest kiss we had ever shared; unlike our usual soft caresses. Nothing had been packed with the fear of being separated, stress from the sudden declaration of hate towards our relationship—by a family member no less—and built up lust and passion like this kiss.
Threatened to an extensive degree extracted the deep, universal connection between us. The part where we would prevent anything from tearing us apart. I had dreaded this attack since the first toll of eleven on our wedding.
My heart pounded with valor: I wasn't going anywhere.
Nick wouldn't be held from me again.
Never.
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