Bound to Burn

9. The Better Man

9

THE BETTER MAN

CASH

Wrap It Up by The Fabulous Thunderbirds

“Let me look at that one,” Jack demands, as he taps a finger to the glass case.

The woman behind the counter starts to pull out a ring. “No, that one.” He jabs a finger to the left, and the woman struggles to figure out which ring he’s pointing at. I can tell how irritated Jack is getting. He looks like he’s about to implode.

“Do you mind bringing out the case?” I intercede calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

The woman looks from Jack to me as if this is breaking protocol. I give her a pleading look and she finally brings out the whole case of rings, glaring at me the whole time.

“Happy now?” I say to Jack as the woman steps back, giving us a little privacy.

He ignores me and paws through the rings, inspecting one after the other. “f**k, why is this so hard?”

He pushes the case away, disgusted, and I give the woman a sympathetic glance.

“Maybe you need to think about it some more?” I offer as we walk out of the jewelry store and onto Rodeo Drive.

Jack slips his baseball cap and sunglasses back on, but it’s clear that anyone who looks hard enough could tell who he is. He could wear a pink wig and heels and people would still recognize him. Me, on the other hand, blend into obscurity, and I like it that way. It’s only when I’m with Jack that people make the connection that I used to be the bass player in Mogo.

“I don’t need to think about whether I want to marry Erin,” Jack spits out through gritted teeth.

I first met Erin when she interviewed me for Jack’s book. For most of my career, I’d encountered a lot of press that weren’t complementary. It put a bad taste in my mouth, and I didn’t trust Erin’s intentions at first. She had a way about her though, that put me at ease, because I could see her love for Jack grow, despite everything he told her, everything I told her. That love grew in her eyes the more secrets I’d divulged, about the band, about Jack, while still safeguarding my own.

After everything Jack had gone through with Amber and Mia, I didn’t think he would ever get married again, no matter how much he loved her.

“What is it about her?” I ask curiously.

“What do you mean? You know Erin; what’s not to like?” He’s avoiding my question, and I’m not going to let him get away with it.

“After everything, why now?” I stop him in the street. “Why her?” We look at each other and I see our history, all of the good and all of the bad, like a tether that keeps us bound to one another. There’s a silent conversation happening between us in that one look. What I’m really asking is what is it about Erin that has made him finally put Mia to rest?

Jack lets out a clarifying breath and then lowers his glasses to look at me. “She makes me a better person.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond and continues down the street towards the car. When it came to Jack and Mia, I was a witness to how much they loved each other, but I also saw their volatile side. Jack was like warm ocean water and Mia was the thunderstorm. Together, they were the makings of a hurricane. They didn’t make each other better people. In their wake, everyone else was just collateral damage

Jack stops at the curb, and before unlocking the car, he places a hand on the roof. It’s like he can read my thoughts, the memories coming to life. “Cash, you already are the better man; you just need to find someone who reminds you of that.”

Without another word, Jack slips into the driver’s seat and we take off, leaving the flashy neighborhood behind, heading west to Santa Monica.

We drive in silence, aside from the continual cursing as Jack navigates traffic, while I mull over his words. I know Jack hates to drive which is why I made him pick me up once Sasha came to take over the store. It was punishment for making me go shopping with him.

“Look at this fucker! Would it kill him to use a turn signal?” He jerks the wheel hard to get around the car in front of him.

I can’t help but snigger.

“What do you find so goddamn funny?” He flicks his gaze at me as I try but fail to stifle another laugh.

“You are so wound up,” I manage to get out.

“You find my suffering funny?” he asks, but I know it’s rhetorical.

“You’ll find the perfect ring,” I reassure him, as he pulls into the parking lot of the record store.

“I went to the best jewelry store on Rodeo. If I can’t find what I want there, where else am I going to find it?”

“Did I hear someone say they’re looking for a ring?” Angel’s voice scares the s**t out of both of us, causing a girly scream to escape Jack’s lips.

“What in the actual f**k?” Jack hits the lock button on his car and starts to roll up the window.

“Hey, man, I ain’t no street beggar.” Angel looks across the front seat to me. “Tell him, Amigo.” He gestures to me.

“You know this guy?” Jack looks at me and then back to Angel.

“Never seen him before in my life.”

“That’s cold, man. Real cold.” Angel retorts, shaking his head at me.

I laugh.

Angel’s phone rings. “Mi vida,” he says. “No, I’m over at the record store.” He gives me a signal to wait for him. “No, record store isn’t code for strip club, I told you.”

“Who the f**k is this guy?” Jack asks, looking at me.

“You remember Angel; he owns the thrift store down the block.” Recognition crosses his face, and even though he’s never set foot in Angel’s thrift store, he knows its significance. Neither one of us has to say it, but we’re both thinking that Angel’s thrift store is the place where Greta, Mia’s assistant, found the jeans.

The jeans.

The jeans Jack wrote the lyrics to Blood & Bone on while Mia was wearing them, back before any of the fame, the drugs, the heartache. Those jeans had been stolen, along with their van, more than twenty years ago, but like fate, they turned back up in Angel’s thrift store, because ghosts never stay buried for long, and they always come back to haunt you.

Angel appears at the car window again, and this time Jack rolls it down for him.

“f*****g wives, man, am I right?” He shakes his head, smiling and holding the phone up before placing it back in his pocket.

Angel focuses back on Jack. “You looking for a ring?”

Jack turns to me. “I am not buying Erin an engagement ring from a f*****g thrift store,” he says with conviction.

“Hey!” Angel says, offended. “I got high quality stuff.” He puffs out his chest, looking more like a penguin than a tough guy.

“Oh yeah? From which celebrity’s house did this high quality stuff come from?” Jack opens the door, pushing Angel out of the way, and leans against his car to light up a cigarette.

“I thought you were quitting,” I say, shaking my head at him.

“Are you my mother?” Jack quips.

Angel laughs, pointing at me. “You got a square for me?” he asks Jack.

“I thought you said you weren’t a street beggar,” Jack retorts, turning to me, a playful smile on his face. Maybe the nicotine is calming his nerves.

“You ain’t gotta be like that, Amigo.” Angel sports a sad face but then lights up when Jack passes him the pack of cigarettes.

“Don’t do it, man.” Angel tries to lean on the car, but thinks better of it when Jack gives him a half-hearted glare.

“I’ll bite.” Jack laughs. “Don’t do what?”

“Get married.” Angel blows out the smoke. He digs in his pocket and holds the phone out between them. “They put a leash around you.”

I laugh hard.

“Why you gotta laugh at me?” Angel asks.

“Because you love that leash,” I accuse him.

He jabs Jack with his elbow. “He’s f*****g right.” Angel laughs loudly.

“Has he been drinking?” Jack asks me.

I shake my head and smile. “He’s always like this.”

“Nice neighbors you have,” Jack snarks, rolling his eyes and taking one last drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out with his shoe on the ground.

“Let’s go look at these gumball machine rings of yours,” Jack says, pushing off from the car.