Chapter 68

Richie hit the first step from the stage, hand immediately going to his pocket.  Overall it had been a good show, even though his contribution was less than spectacular.  He’d diligently tried to keep his attention onstage, but it was a chore with Allegra’s whereabouts weighing heavily on his mind.  Even Kid Rock’s crazy presence had only been a temporary distraction.

He descended the steep staircase while flipping quickly through his phone.  Text messages from LA.  Pictures of Ava on the catwalk – which momentarily distracted him.  Damn, his daughter was beautiful.  She was going to be a heartbreaker long before he was ready to deal with it. 

But nothing from Allegra or Matt.

Where the fuck IS Matt?

“Where’s Matt?” he bellowed to anyone who would listen in the post-show pandemonium.  His ears still buzzed with the last resonating notes of Prayer and the crowd’s roar.

One of the swarming crew members removed the monitor from his belt.  Another threw a towel over his shoulder and took his hat.  Seemingly hundreds of staffers running around, but he didn’t see Matt or Allegra anywhere. 

Obie paused on his way to whatever audio nightmare was demanding his attention.  “Hey, I’ve got a message for you.”

“From who?”

“Baby Brother Bongiovi.  He said to tell you Allegra is waiting at the hotel.  Shower and get over there.”  He bustled on his way, tossing a careless, “Take Jon with you,” over his shoulder.

She was at the hotel?  He strode toward his dressing room while dialing her phone.  He wouldn’t relax until he knew she was okay. 

“Hi this is Allegra.  I’m sorry I missed your call-“

Dammit.

If she was at the hotel, why wasn’t she answering her phone?  Was she in the shower?

He scrolled through the contact list until he reached Matt’s name.  Tapping the screen, he pushed open the dressing room door and kicked off his shoes. 

Come on Matt, answer the damn phone.

He pulled his belt loose and dropped it on the sofa, then methodically removed his jewelry.  Peeling his sweat soaked shirt over his head, he cursed and tossed the phone on the table.  Voicemail.

Sonofabitch.

There was a brief knock at the door before it swung inward.  His equally sweaty friend and boss rolled through the door with a scowl clouding his features.

“I got a message to shower and find you.  Mind telling me what the fuck’s goin’ on?”

Richie didn’t want to waste what little the time it would take to explain the afternoon’s events.  He continued to strip his clothes, moving toward the bathroom.  “Go get your shower.  We’ll talk in the car.”

The bathroom door slammed behind him, leaving Jon standing there with his scowl still in place.

♫  ♥  ♫  ♥

Matt watched his phone light up with Richie’s number for the fifth time.  He hated to ignore the calls, but there was no way in hell he could tell him over the phone.  Even if it was going to be near impossible to look him in the face while delivering the news, it was the right thing to do.

Besides, they had to be getting close to the hotel by now.  He could almost time Richie’s actions from when Obie had delivered the message:  call, shower, call, get dressed, call, find Jon, call, get in the car, call. 

He eased open the bedroom door to look in on Allegra, sleeping in the scrubs the hospital had given her.  One of the nurses had helped to get her hair brushed out, but she hadn’t felt up to a shower.   The doctor had suggested that she was going to need some help when the time came, and Matt was sure she’d be more comfortable with Richie than him.  He knew HE would be more comfortable that way.  

At least she seemed to be resting peacefully for the moment.  Checking his watch, he calculated that it was another hour before she needed to be awakened.

With a soft click, he pulled the door closed and proceeded to run restless fingers through his hair.  It had been a horrific night that wasn’t looking to get any better.

Once he’d bottled up his rage, he leapt from the Escalade, running to her as he stripped the jacket from his back.  He reached her side and settled it over her exposed skin with a light pat. 

“Good job with the Panda, babe.  The driver knew right where to find you.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected from her – relief, gratitude, joy? – but Allegra’s face had shown no emotion whatsoever.  The questions that he peppered her with didn’t elicit a flicker of response.  ‘What happened?  Who did this?  Where are you hurt?’  Every answer was a blank stare. 

Except when he asked if she wanted her clothes.  She closed her eyes and offered a slight shake of her head in reply.  Honestly, he was relieved that she did.  Until that point, he’d been concerned about possible brain damage from the obvious blows to her head.

After that, she remained still and silent, staring vacantly into space until the EMT personnel arrived.  The process of getting her settled on the gurney and covered with blankets had drawn several pitiful whimpers of pain, each one ripping at Matt until he thought he may cry if she didn’t. 

Sending Nick back to the arena for Richie and Jon, Matt had climbed into the ambulance with Allegra and held her hand the whole way to the hospital.  He told her over and over that everything would be okay, but couldn’t be sure that his attempt at comfort was of any help.  Her closed eyes and impassive facial features gave away nothing.  

Once they reached the hospital, he’d been hesitant to leave her alone, but didn’t think it appropriate to stay during the examination.  Reluctantly, he stepped into the hallway, where the doctor found him to discuss her laundry list of injuries.  He told Matt that she had a painful, but relatively short road to recovery.  All things considered, her wounds should heal in a couple of weeks. 

Matt snorted softly.  All of that was the easy stuff. 

The door to the suite swung open abruptly and bounced off the wall.

“Where is she?” Richie wasted no time asking, shucking his coat and flinging it across the sofa.  Jon was close behind, features tight and unrelenting.

“She’s in the bedroom,” Matt replied positioning himself defensively in front of the closed door, as Richie barreled toward it.

“Get out of my way, Matt.”

He stared unflinchingly at the man who’d been another older brother to him since the age of nine.  Matt may not have been as bulky, but he matched Richie inch for inch in height, and then some.  They made an intimidating pair, both squared off with no intention of backing down. 

Matt gave an inaudible sigh.  There was no good way to do this.

♫  ♥  ♫  ♥

What was Matt’s problem?  He just wanted to see Allegra.  Richie threw Jon a look that said ‘do something before I punch him’.

“Step aside, Matty,” Jon commanded in his best CEO voice.

Redirecting his solemn blue eyes to meet those of his brother, Matt grimly informed them, “There’s something you gotta to know before you go in there.”

Richie had waited somewhat patiently for hours now.  She’d gone into downtown Detroit alone and been there after dark.  She hadn’t responded to any of his string of calls and text messages.  He’d been worried to death, and she was just on the other side of that door.  What could he POSSIBLY need to know beyond the fact that she was here and in one piece? 

“Then fuckin’ spit it out already!” he snapped. 

Matt tipped his head, motioning them both back to the living area.  “Sit.  I’ll get you a drink.”  He moved to the coffee table, where a bottle of Scotch sat alongside two highball glasses.   Pouring a healthy dose of whiskey into each, he offered them to Jon and Richie.

“I don’t want a goddamn drink, I want to see Allegra.”

“Richie, take fuckin’ thing.”  Matt forced it into his hand. 

What does Matt know?  Is she pissed about this afternoon?  Has she decided I’m not worth the effort?  Because she thinks I put everything else before her? 

Richie stared into the amber liquid, torn between what was right and what would get him through the next five minutes.

“You know he’s not drinking anymore.”

Richie threw back the Scotch before Jon had finished the sentence.  If she was leaving him, he damn well deserved to be numb enough to withstand the news.  “Talk,” he commanded, dropping onto the couch. 

With a huff and shake of his head, Jon folded himself onto the seat cushion next to Richie, taking a swallow out of his own glass. 

With a deep, bracing breath Matt metaphorically ripped the Band-Aid from the wound in one swift motion.

“She was raped.”

The words hung there in the air like a putrid odor, and Richie gagged as though he could smell it.

I thought that her leaving me would be the worst thing that could happen.  I was wrong.

“I don’t know any of the details,” Matt continued.  “She won’t tell me who did it or how it happened, and she wouldn’t talk to the police or doctors either.  As a matter of fact, she hasn’t spoken a word since I found her.”

“This is YOUR fuckin’ fault!”  Jon whirled on his best friend.  “If you’d let her go with me, she would’ve been safe.  But NO!  You sent her out into the highest crime rate city in the goddamn country BY HERSELF!”

During the trip from the arena to the hotel, they’d talked about why Richie was so anxious to get to Allegra.  He told Jon how she had tried to leave the arena by herself and how he’d insisted that she ask Matt to accompany her.  He’d even gone so far as to show Jon the call log on his phone.  It listed every failed attempt to contact her since the minute he’d known she was alone.

“Dammit, for the hundredth time, I told her to take Matt!  I knew she should have somebody with her, but she was too stubborn to listen.”

“Would you two jackasses shut up?!”  Matt interrupted angrily.  “Don’t you think you should be more concerned about HER than that petty shit?”

Both men dropped their heads, visibly collecting themselves.  Placing blame gave them some type of control over a situation in which they felt helpless.  However, it didn’t change the fact that he was right.

“How did you find her?” Jon finally asked.

“Richie wanted me to keep trying her phone, so I called and called until she finally answered.  She told me she was hurt, and asked me to come get her.  Based on the little bit she was able to tell us, the driver you hired figured out that she was in the alley behind the Soul Foundation.  When we got there, she was huddled up against a dumpster wearing nothing but her coat.  No shoes, no nothing.  Her clothes were scattered around her, sliced to pieces.”

Richie reached for the bottle of Scotch and refilled his glass.  He needed something for the pain. 

Ha.  Something for the Pain.  I’m a fuckin’ comedian.  My girlfriend’s been raped and I’m making song puns.  Some useless SOB I am.

“How bad is she hurt?”

At least Jon had enough presence of mind to ask the important questions.  His ‘brother’ was taking care of him – like he always did.  But he shouldn’t have to.  Allegra was his family.  Hell, Matty’s family too.  They had to be hurting as badly as he was.  Didn’t they?

“It’s bad,” Matt admitted.  “I almost went apeshit when I saw her.  Black eye, busted lip, concussion, sprained shoulder and bruised ribs.  Plus a whole bunch of other bruises.   I guess she fought the fucker pretty good.”

Jon leapt to his feet, hands balled into fists and eyes blazing.  “Of course she did!  She’s not going to give in to some damn cocksucker just because he wants to dip his wick where it doesn’t belong!  Frannie’s stronger than that.”

His sweet, innocent Sunshine.  Violated.  She had physically fought some creep, for God knows how long, trying to keep him at bay.  Richie pushed the nausea down.  Scotch may not be his friend anymore. 

“Yeah, she is,” Matt said.  “I don’t know any other woman who wouldn’t be crying their way through this.  It’s almost to the point of being scary.”

“What do you mean?” Richie croaked, clearing his throat to push back the contents of his stomach.

“I mean she hasn’t shed a single tear.  Her face is completely blank, and there’s no emotion whatsoever.  It’s like she refuses to be a part of it.”

Oh, Sunshine, what’s going on in that head of yours? 

“I have to see her.”  Richie pushed himself to his feet and directed his steps toward the bedroom door once again. 

“Richie, there’s one more thing…”

He didn’t know if he could take one more thing.  All he could think of at this very second was holding her until the hurt was gone.  She may not be showing it, but there was a world of hurt she was hiding away.  He knew it as well as he knew his name.

Bracing himself, he turned.  Jon’s hand came up to grip his shoulder and they both faced Matt, waiting for him to finish.

“They gave her a morning after pill.  You know, in case she got pregnant.”  He pushed his hands into his pants pockets and looked between the two of them.  “She refused to take it.”

Richie felt all the blood drain from his face.  The room began to spin just a little bit and the ground became surprisingly uneven under his feet.  His skin turned cold and clammy, while beads of perspiration popped out on his forehead.  The nausea he’d pushed down earlier moved its way up his esophagus, threatening to spill over onto the hotel carpet. 

Breathe, Sambora.

Jon’s voice was piercing its way into his little acid-trippy world.  “Is she fucking nuts?  Of course she’ll take the pill, if I have to stuff it down her throat myself!”

“Jon,”  Richie’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Stupid ass Catholic bullshit be damned!  She is not going to bring the spawn of some sick fuck into this world!”

“Jon.”  He forced his volume level up a notch and put his hand out to still his friend’s wildly flailing arm.  His blue eyes were lit with an icy fire that would only get worse the longer he was allowed to rant.

“What?!” 

Richie solemnly met his gaze, seeing the indignant anger housed there on behalf of the woman they all should have been protecting.  Richie in more ways than one.  “She may have already been pregnant.”

Both brothers stared at him with dumbfounded looks of incredulity. 

“You got her PREGNANT?”  Jon asked with a tone that implied Richie had the IQ of a garden gnome.

“I don’t know!”  Richie threw his head back with a growl of frustration.  “The rubber broke last night, so she COULD be.”  He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose relieve to the pressure building there.  Then, in a much quieter voice, “I think that’s why she wouldn’t take the pill.  She didn’t wanna risk killing our baby.”