Part 13:
A Little Tiger
“Hey
where did Kev go?” Nick yelled into Howie’s ear, trying to be heard over the
din of the crowd gathered backstage.
“What
do you mean, he’s right-“ Looking over his shoulder Howie blinked. “Well he was
right behind us?”
“Yeah
he was?” Tapping Howie on the shoulder with his fist Nick grabbed bottled water
from an ice bucket beside him.
“Cover
for me D, I’m going to go and find him and make sure everything is okay.”
*
* *
Kristin
sat at a table in the hotel lounge nursing a glass of wine as the piano player
launched into another sad Sarah McLachlan tune.
“This
day sucks.” She said to no one in particular, the ring of her cell phone making
her jump.
Picking
it up off of the table she debated whether to even answer. She wasn’t in the
mood just yet for a showdown with Kevin. He’d said some hateful things,
accusing her of being on drugs and unfit to be a mother to their son.
Pausing
she finally hit the answer button.
“Yes.”
“Kris?”
Finally a friendly voice.
“Leslie.”
Kris sighed as tears welled in her eyes.
“Kris
sweetie, what’s wrong?”
*
* *
“This
is Mark.”
“Mark,
this is Kevin Richardson.” Kevin’s voice shook slightly with a building rage.
“Hey
Richardson, how are things?” He sounded so fucking casual Kevin wanted to reach
through the phone and choke him.
“Why
don’t you tell me Caudiff.” Mark Caudiff laughed.
“This
game is fun Kevin.” He said Kevin’s name like it was poison on his
tongue.
“I
don’t like games Mark.” Kevin spat Mark’s name out with an equal amount
of venom.
“Really?
Well did you know that your wife likes games Kevin. She likes all kinds of
games.”
*
* *
“Kristin
oh my god you sound so sad?” Leaning back in her chair Kristin covered her eyes
with her hand.
“Everything
is so messed up Les.”
“Krissy
what happened?” Lily stood over a sleeping Nate smiling down at him as she
spoke.
“Kevin
is freaking out and I don’t know why? I mean I know that he has been having a
hard time since he left on tour but it’s like I don’t even know him anymore?”
Taking a deep breath Kris could no longer stop the tears that spilled down her
face.
“He….he
accused me of doing….of doing drugs.” She sobbed, the piano player looking over
at her with pity on his face.
“What?”
Feigning surprise Lily gasped. “That’s insane! He’s never said one word to me
about it when we’ve talked.”
“I
don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Kristin continued to cry. “He’s accused me
of a lot of stuff since we’ve been together, some of it justified and some of
it not. But he’s never accused me of doing drugs?”
“Oh
sweetie.” Leaning down Lily placed a gentle kiss on Nate’s cheek before walking
from the room. “I mean he has always seemed controlling and overly possessive
where you’re concerned….but totally insane….I don’t think so?“
Wiping
the tears from her face Kristin took a deep breath.
“Leslie
I don’t know what to do…please help me.”
*
* *
Dropping
the phone to the bed Kevin couldn’t move.
Couldn’t
breath.
Couldn’t
fathom what he had just been told.
“What
the fuck are you talking about Mark?”
“You
really don’t know? C’mon Kev you always struck me as being much smarter then
you looked.”
“What
I do know is that my wife wouldn’t look at you twice if you were bleeding on
the street.”
“Oh
Kevin, you’re so fucking blind.” Mark laughed. “You know that wife of yours is
a little tiger, I never would have guessed by looking at her that she’d be such
a wild bitch in the sack-”
“Shut
up, just shut the fuck up!” Kevin screamed.
“Give
her a little of the powder and she can go for hours-“
“You
son of a bitch.”
“If
it makes you feel any better Kevin sometimes she screams out your name-”
“SHUT
THE FUCK UP!”
“This
can’t be true.” Kevin whispered the cell phone lying on the bed, taunting him
as Mark’s words spun around and around in his head.
Looking
to his left Kevin’s eyes set on Kristin’s suitcase, the same suitcase he’d
bought her for their anniversary the year before.
Moving
in slow motion, he walked to the bag, stooping to tug the zipper swiftly around
the outside.
As
the flaps fell apart her clothing spread to the ground at his feet.
Reaching
down he began digging through the soft colored tops and pants and the lacy
lingerie that smelled of Issey Miyake, Kris’s signature scent.
Moving
his hands around the deep inside pockets he felt nothing, then just when he
thought it was safe to breath again he stopped as his hand touched on three
small vials.
Pulling
them out his hands began to shake.
Cocaine.
***
