CHAPTER 71

“CARLOS!!!”

The burly bodyguard spun around with barely enough time to brace himself for a full body slam as Connie ran from her uniformed escort and barreled full force towards a wide-eyed Carlos. He wasn’t sure what had happened but he suddenly found his arms full as Connie literally threw herself on him, wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms tightly around his neck as she buried her face the cotton knit of his Reebok tee-shirt.

“Jeesh, Miss O’Rourke! You’re choking me here…”

Of course, she didn’t hear him. It wouldn’t have made much difference if she had. Connie wasn’t about to let go. Carlos was too stunned to be embarrassed. He was surprised that such a diminutive woman could pack such a wallop. The small cluster of police officers were staring at the two of them and Carlos thought that he probably looked like one of those mother gorillas you see on National Geographic - her child attaching itself to her for protection as she swings through the trees.

After a silent, but brief, pause, everyone seemed to start talking at once. The desk sergeant finally had to pound the desk with his fists in order to take the floor. Carlos just wished they’d hurry it up. He knew that Kevin wouldn’t wait out in the car forever. Finally, the sergeant told the other offices to ‘shut the hell up’ and he turned to Carlos.

“Mr….?”

“Cardenas,” Carlos huffed.

“I take it you know this woman?”

“Yeah. I know her.”

“In what capacity, may I ask?”

Carlos was a little confused. He almost felt like he was the one being interrogated. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

“I mean,” the sergeant looked over the top of his glasses, “are you, by any chance, her….well, for lack of a better term….business manager?”

Carlos began to feel like he might need a lawyer, himself. He wasn’t sure what they were getting at but thought it might be in his best interest to find out before he answered anymore questions.

“May I ask exactly why you’re holding Miss O’ Rourke?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself!”

Carlos spun around at the sound of Kevin’s booming voice with Connie still holding fast. Kevin had grown impatient and decided he had to check this out for himself. He did a double-take at the sight of Connie wrapped around Carlos like a starfish attaching itself to its prey. His double-take became a triple when he saw that Connie’s skirt, which had a lengthy slit up one side, had become hiked up around her thighs, revealing the satin bands of a garter belt. The angora sweater – fluffy, but none too roomy – had begun a slide down one shoulder. Kevin frowned. When Connie had said she was going to wear a ‘skirt and sweater’, this is not the picture that had come to mind.

“Come ‘ere, Connie!” he spat as he began to pull her away from Carlos’ protection.

Connie’s eyes were squeezed shut. She didn’t know Kevin was even there and reacted to his tugs by kicking her right foot and batting the intruder away with one hand while tightening her hold on Carlos’ neck with the other.

“She’s stangling me…” Carlos choked as Kevin continued his rescue attempt.

“Jesus Christ!”

A glancing blow to Kevin’s groin, courtesy of Connie’s foot, caused him retreat momentarily. After a few seconds, he attacked again, this time making sure to protect himself with one hand while he grabbed Connie’s bare shoulder with the other. At least this time she raised her head and opened her eyes, allowing Kevin to catch the brief spark of fury and fear in her eyes.

“KEVIIIIIIN!!!!”

Connie immediately fell from Carlos’ shoulder and grabbed onto Kevin, using the same stranglehold on him that his bodyguard had suffered earlier. For a second or two, she was suspended between the two men – arms around Kevin’s neck and knees still pressing against Carlos’ side. Then she swung the lower half of her body over to Kevin and resumed her position, clinging franticly onto her more familiar protector. Carlos was free.

“Goddamn!”

Kevin stumbled backwards, trying to regain a sense of balance. Connie’s feet had never touched the floor.

“Tell me about it…” Carlos mumbled, rubbing his neck.

“What are the charges?” Kevin demanded as he tried to loosen Connie’s grip. “What the hell has she done?”

Again, several voices began babbling at one time and one pair of hands started waving and signaling in the air. The station suddenly resembled the set of an old Keystone Cops movie. The desk sergeant was forced to hammer his fist on the desk once more.

“Prescott, what the hell are you doing?”

“Signing!” the detective answered as if the question was a rather stupid one.

“And who are you signing at?” the sergeant growled.

“The deaf hooker….”

“HOOKER?” Kevin yelled, interrupting the exchange – or trying to. He was ignored.

The sergeant’s scowl deepened. “She got eyes in the back of her head or something? She ain’t looking at you!”

“HOOKER?” Kevin yelled a little louder.

The young arresting officer stepped forward, anxious to validate his cause for arrest.

“She quoted me a price!” he charged defensively. “I asked her ‘How much?’ and she said $20.00!”

“What the fuck?” Kevin’s lip curled in disgust. “There’s a goddamn big mistake here…”

“Yeah!”, Carlos chimed in. “She would be a fool to charge $20.00! I’d say $50.00 minimum and that would only be for a hand job – right, Kevin?”

Carlos crossed his arms confidently and looked to Kevin for confirmation. What he got, instead, was an incredulous stare.

“Connie isn’t a hooker, Carlos….,” he snarled in measured tones, trying to sound calm.

Carlos’ air of confidence quickly faded. “Sure – I mean of course not! That’s not what I meant…”

Kevin shook his head as he tried to pry Connie’s legs from his hips. Finally her limbs dropped and her feet found the floor. When her arms fell from Kevin’s neck, he took her hands in his and bent down to her face. She looked like she was expecting to catch holy hell and it was all Kevin could do to try to look reassuring and unemotional. His success was marginal at best.

“I didn’t do anything!” Connie blurted before Kevin could say a word.

“Take it easy, baby…”

He tried to smile a little but his attempt made him look like he had just gotten a whiff of some noxious substance.

“They think I’m a prostitute or something,” she whispered as if that was a secret. Connie’s chin began to tremble as her demeanor shifted from defiance to hurt. She leaned close to Kevin’s face. “They locked in up with streetwalkers! They made fun of my clothes! Now I’m a jailbird…” A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“They’re saying you gave the policeman a price for sex. Twenty dollars…”

Connie’s stricken expression reshifted to blantant resentment. “$20.00!” she repeated, outraged and insulted. “I’d certainly charge more than $20.00!… Don’t you think I’m worth more than $20.00?”

“Told ‘ya…” Carlos mumbled.

Kevin was trying desperately to be patient. He placed his hands on Connie’s shoulders and took a cleansing breath.

“Did the officer ask you ‘How much?’”

“Yes, but I didn’t know he was a cop….” Her response wasn’t helping.

“That’s okay, Connie,” Kevin sighed. “Just answer me. Did he ask you that?”

“Well – yes…” Connie nodded. “And I said $20.00…”

Kevin found himself glancing around the police station. Surely there are cameras hidden here somewhere. This is some kind of joke…. But it was no joke. It was far too complicated. He tried once again to dissect and understand this ridiculous drama. His head was starting to hurt.

“Connie, I’m sorry to ask you this, but I have to clear this up so I’m just gonna ask you straight up…”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, baby…At least I don’t think so…

“You sure look mad…”

“I’m just confused, Connie. Now, did you tell that officer…” Kevin pointed to a young man standing by the desk. “….that you would have sex with him if he paid you?”

Connie’s eyes followed Kevin’s finger and landed on the young man who had hauled her to the station.

“NO, I DID NOT!” she screamed, incensed at the suggestion.

“Okay, okay….” Kevin touched her chin and turned her face back to meet his. “But you said he did ask you ‘How much…’”

“Yes…”

Kevin’s head dropped in exasperation. He was tired and his head felt like it was going to explode. He raised his head and tried once more. “How much for what, Connie?”

“A tattoo….”

Kevin’s head fell again and he heard himself groan out loud. For a brief moment, he even considered that it might be easier to just let Connie be formally charged, pay her bail and let his attorney straighten this mess out tomorrow. An unexpected ally came to his aid and within a minute, Kevin’s surreal nightmare was over. The desk sergeant would quickly put an end to this. Whether for justice or pure exasperation, Kevin would never know.

“Officer Lopez. Isn’t there a tattoo parlor near La Capucine?”

“Y-yes. I believe there is…”

“Did you and Miss O’Rourke specifically discuss what type of service she was willing to provide for $20.00?”

“Uh….”

“She quoted you a price but didn’t say what your $20.00 would buy?”

“Uh…no. But…”

“Just shut the fuck up, Lopez…,” the sergeant growled before turning his attention back to Kevin. “Get her ass outta here! This is over!”

Kevin didn’t wait for the sergeant to have a change of heart and immediately began to pull Connie towards the door with Carlos following close behind.

“One day, you’ll think this is funny…,” the bodyguard called to Kevin, trying to break the tension.

From the look Kevin shot him in response, Carlos thought he might have to reconsider that possibility.

Chapter 72

Carlos dropped his passengers off at the hotel where the launch party was being held and then went on his way. The ride from the police station had been uncomfortably quiet. Brian had taken the front passenger’s seat, perplexed and ignorant of what had transpired at the precinct house but smart enough to know and keep his mouth shut. The tension in the car effectively overtook any idle chit-chat.

There was no improvement when Kevin and Connie got out of the car and walked across the lot to Kevin’s truck. He walked ahead of her, silent, and entered the driver’s side without so much as a word, leaving Connie to fend for herself as she tried to open the passenger’s side door only to find that it was locked. Kevin’s ‘Southern Gentleman’ persona seemed to have disappeared. He deliberately waited an extra second or two and then threw the lock, granting Connie permission to enter, and started the engine as she climbed up onto the seat. The tension didn’t dissipate now that they were alone. Kevin looked straight ahead, never saying a word, while Connie sat silently, unsure of whether to feel anger at his obvious displeasure or hurt at his lack of compassion. Each had become entwined in their own indignation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Why is he pissed with ME? I didn’t do anything! For God’s sake, I was locked up like a common criminal and scared half to death – for nothing! For answering a simple question – for trying to be nice, that’s all! It’s not like I flashed that cop or something… Now I’m getting the ‘silent treatment’…so to speak. Fine! If he wants to be a shit, let him!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

What the hell was she thinking? Goddamn, she lived in New York City, for Christ’s sake! Doesn’t she know better? She stands out on the street, alone. It’s late, a stranger pulls up to her and all of a sudden she becomes Miss Confuckingeniality! She should have never been outside in the first place. And, Lachey – that dumb shit! He couldn’t insist that she stick with him? That asshole has no common sense whatsoever – can’t see past a mirror! God only knows what kind of trouble she’ll get into while I’m gone….

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If he wants to be pissed, he should be pissed at Jive – or pissed at himself for going along with this charade! I would think that he’d be old enough to have a girlfriend. I don’t get this. It seemed okay as long as he was with…with – her! What? I’m not glamorous enough? Not ‘blond’ enough? I guess I’m not much of a help, publicity wise – I’m not in show biz… Don’t fit into the celebrity scene. Too plain… Too deaf…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fuck Jive! I should have never gone along with this. Howie made it seem simple – no big deal. So what if I look ‘available’? Hmmm.. But that means Connie will have to look ‘available’ too, doesn’t it? I hadn’t thought of that… I leave tomorrow. We’ll meet in New York in nine days. She’ll come to her first concert since she lost her hearing. Her first real concert ever. This is going to be a real testing time for us and she doesn’t even realize it…. She’s seen the itinerary but I don’t think she fully understands. And I can’t talk to her the way I want to. I can’t discuss this with her now, in the truck at night. She can’t see me. So I sit here and just get more pissed off….

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nine days…. Hardly a lifetime - but still… He can’t leave here tomorrow mad. I don’t want to be mad when he leaves tomorrow, either. Maybe he’s just tense because of the tour and everything…. I know this thing with Jive puts him in a tough spot, but what am I supposed to do? I’ve tried to be cooperative and just trust his judgment with this. Tried not to rock the boat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kevin raised the garage door, pulled in and stomped on the brake, causing Connie to jerk against her seat belt. She shot Kevin an evil look, which he ignored before climbing out of the truck and walking to the door. Connie didn’t move. She was beginning to move back from feeling angry to feeling hurt again. When Kevin unlocked the door and went on inside without her she went a little numb. There she sat, still strapped into the front seat, alone. Now what?… After a minute or two, she climbed out of the truck and went outside to the front yard. She wasn’t going to go in yet, following behind him like a lost puppy, yet she didn’t want him to think she was pouting, either. She did have some pride. She needed a small task – a reason for her not to come inside right away. The mail… We didn’t check the box the morning… She stepped through the grass, now wet with dew, and opened the hinge on the mailbox. As she retrieved the sizeable stack of envelopes and circulars, the light over the front door came on, capturing her attention. Kevin stood under the portico, hands on hips, head turning back and forth, searching. Well, he finally missed me… After a moment, he spotted her at the curb and waved her in. She considered saluting in response but thought better of it. She did, however, close the box slowly and took her time approaching the house.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his brows furrowing as the words formed on his lips.

“Mail…” she answered simply.

She handed the stack to him and brushed past him into the house. He followed behind several paces until they reached the kitchen. Connie got a glass of water from the tap as Kevin went through the mail, tossing circulars and ads into the trash as he did so. Bills and business correspondence were routed through his business manager so all he had to glance through was personal mail. Connie had her mail sent to a post office box. Kevin had objected at first but appreciated the fact that Connie had thought through the fact that the fewer people who knew his actual address, the better. There was, however, amid the small stack of letters and cards, a long white business size envelope addressed to Connie O’ Rourke. There was no return address and her name, along with Kevin’s address, had been computer printed onto a label. Kevin weighed the envelope in his hand. It was light and probably contained no more than one sheet of paper. He was just surprised to see a letter addressed to her in his mailbox and on some level, found that he was pleased.

“You got something here…” he mumbled, tossing the white envelope to the side.

Of course, she failed to respond. Kevin glanced up to find Connie sipping from a small glass as she stared at the buttons of the microwave so he reached over to the wall and flicked the light switch once. When he saw that he had her attention, he nodded towards the envelope and she stepped over to retrieve it. They were both expressionless and cool with each other. Kevin watched her from the corner of his eye, feigning disinterest in the contents of her letter. Connie ripped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

As her eyes moved across the lines, the corners of her mouth began to dip. She made no comment when she had finished reading but picked up the envelope and re-examined it, looking for some hint as to who the sender might be. Then she read the letter again. By the time she had finished it for a second time, Kevin had moved beside her, so that when she looked up from her reading, she was looking at him.

“What is it?” he asked, revealing concern for the first time since they had left the police station.

“Nothing…” Connie began to refold the paper. “Just some kind of crank letter, I think.”

“From?”

“No signature…”

“Let me see that!”

Kevin snatched the letter from her grasp before she could step back. Part of her wanted to protest but another part was glad to see that he was, at least, curious. Kevin’s brows dropped as he began to read. There was no salutation.

I’m very disappointed in you, Connie. I thought you had more sense that to get yourself hooked up with a musician, of all things. He’s not your type, sweetheart – not and all, and I think in your heart of hearts, you know this. You need a more conservative type in your life – someone less self-involved. You’ll always come in second to music. You know that, don’t you? Why would you settle for that? He needs someone who doesn’t mind that…. Maybe someone who benefits from his ‘career’, such as it is. He’ll grow weary of you, you know. You’re a novelty right now, but he’ll get tired of it and you’ll be dumped. Get out now before you get crushed.

Kevin laid the paper down of the counter. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. This didn’t strike him as a typical ‘sour fan’ letter. It was succinct and to the point. More mature than some of the disgruntled letters he and his bandmates had seen in the past. He, too picked up the envelope. The only indication of who might have sent this came from the postmark. The letter had been mailed from New York City. When Kevin looked up again, Connie was watching him, waiting for some sort of comment or evaluation. He didn’t speak, at first. It probably was some jealous fan. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that fans knew where he lived. Drive-bys were not an unusual occurrence and there were probably some who knew that he was ‘with’ someone, despite Jive’s efforts to deny a serious relationship.

“Have you gotten any of these before?”

His question was punctuated with a frown, as if he were scolding her. She just shook her head and looked at him expecting a comforting explanation. I’m sorry, baby. I should have warned you about this kind of shit. Some of these fans are pretty delusional… Instead, Kevin wadded up the paper and threw it into the kitchen trashcan. His lips parted slightly and then curled into a frustrated grimace as the sheet fell into the garbage. Connie noted the slight collapse of his chest as a forced breath left his lungs and she knew that he was issuing a disgusted sigh. It seemed that everything that she had done or that had happened to her today was grating on his nerves. She tried to figure out what she had done wrong or what she could have changed but came up empty.

“Should I be worried about it? I mean, this is just fan bullshit, right?”

Kevin stared at her for a moment. Connie had no idea…. He was immediately struck by conflicting realizations. He suddenly realized how much Connie’s ignorance of most things Backstreet meant to him. She really wanted nothing from him and was totally unaware of just how convoluted his life really was. She was only beginning to discover the extent of abnormality that would surround them both for as long as they were together. Her deafness had given her an unfathomable degree of wisdom and pain but in some ways, it protected her as well. She grounded him yet he was also full of worry. Connie was an independent woman but she would also be an easy target. She had certainly experienced cruelty but never direct meanness from people who didn’t know her at all. It wasn’t her nature to be cynical and suspicious like he had been forced to become. It affected him deeply to realize that his protection of her would be limited when the group’s careers took center stage again. Kevin despised feeling helpless and his tendency to fret would not be easily calmed. He would feel so much better if they could be together – at least until she understood how things worked in Backstreet Land.

“Yeah, Connie… Fan bullshit.”