of my favorite things to do was lay my head back in the seat and watch the world play out in front of me. Racing by at lightning speed.
Although, watching the world go by through Cash’s eyes was just as rewarding.
Life was good.
Because I was ...
With Cash.
Sincerely, Junie
Chapter 16
“If you’re not doing what you love, you are wasting your time.”
-Billy Joel
<>Cash<>
“What are ya always writin’ in there?” I asked, laying on my bed in the tour bus.
Journey was sitting on the couch that I used to sleep on. Since we’d got back from Oak Island, she’d been sleeping in my arms every night.
She didn’t hesitate, instantly shutting her notebook and placing it underneath the pillow beside her.
“Nothing.”
“That don’t look like nothin’ to me.” I grinned, lunging toward her.
She tried to move away, but she wasn’t fast enough for the likes of me. I gripped onto her wrists with one hand, laying her on the couch to lock her arms above her head. Firmly, I held her down, hovering over her tiny frame. She wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted her to.
“I wanna see your nothin’.”
Silence.
She held her head higher in defiance, hiding back a smirk.
“Junie, this isn’t gonna end well for you.”
More silence.
“I have other ways of gettin’ ya to talk. I suggest you do it on your own, though.
“What’s that supp—”
I started tickling the fuck outta her, and she lost her shit. Thrashing her body, flailing her legs everywhere, hysterically laughing.
“Cash! This is cheating!”
“Unlucky for you, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Oh my God! You’re going to make me pee my pants!”
“Let me see the notebook, and I’ll stop.”
“Please! Please!”
“Baby, you beggin’ ain’t gonna help your disposition. If anythin’, it makes me wanna tickle you more.”
“Fine! I’ll tell you!”
I stopped.
She was panting profusely, and her cheeks were all fuckin’ flushed, making me think of something else entirely.
My cock twitched at the sight of her breathless and at my mercy.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Journey.”
“I know what you’re doing. Trying to butter me up after torturing me. This isn’t a fair fight. You’re bigger than me.”
“Seems fair to me.”
“That’s because the odds are in your favor!”
I chuckled. “I’m a man. They’re always in my favor, little girl.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Cut dem eyes at me again and watch how fast I make you beg me to stop.”
She smiled. “There’s nothing to see in my journal, Cash.”
“I beg to differ, sweetheart. Come on, Junie, I’ve let you into my world. It’s time for you to let me see yours.”
“Hmm... Nah.”
I took a stab in the dark and guessed, “Are you takin’ notes for the article on our tour?” Hoping it might get her to open up and let me in.
Over the last month and a half, so much had changed between us. I showed Journey the ins and outs of my life, leaving out the rabbit hole I prayed not to fall down again. Except, I didn’t fiend for drugs. However, booze...
That was a much different story.
Mind over matter, I was stronger than whiskey.
Repeating it to myself every fuckin’ day. I didn’t think I had a problem until time proved me wrong. I thought I could do it on my own, but I was mistaken yet again.
By day three of not drinking, I had to tell the boys. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I was throwing up behind closed doors. Unable to sleep for the life of me, profusely sweating through my clothes. I couldn’t concentrate, my head was pounding, and over-the-counter medicine was bullshit, not helping a damn thing.
Out of left field, I was slapped in the face with all these symptoms I never thought would occur in the first place. Making it extremely difficult to hide them from Journey.
Thank fuck we had people who handled this sort of shit. I was able to sneak in some medical detox without her knowing. Popping a few prescribed pills was my saving grace, helping ease the symptoms and anxiety. I hadn’t sipped a lick of alcohol since we’d left Oak Island.
I’d be a lying sack of shit if I said I didn’t want to. I did. Every day was a struggle. When the cravings became too much, I’d make myself remember the expression on Journey’s face when she looked into my eyes.
Hope.
I saw what she did, gazing into the mirror.
Clear eyes.
No bags.
Sober.
A much different man stared back at me. Sometimes, it was as if I was seeing a ghost.
“No, silly. I have another notebook for that,” Journey explained, dragging me away from my thoughts.
I did