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Still Standing Tall	By : AEMorgan Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Bon Jovi Views: 2795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Bon Jovi. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Jon stopped, slipping his key back in his pocket. Turning, he plastered a smile on his face, faltering slightly as he took in the five men standing in front of them. Dressed in stylish dark suits, their arms were crossed over their broad chests, emphasising the bulging muscles in their arms.

The pit of his stomach sank as he recognised their type; Mafia wanna-be’s. He’d seen enough of them in his youth to know they could be trouble. And lots of it. He watched as they fanned out across the corridor to reveal a sixth man clad in a pin-stripe suit, obviously their leader, who was leaning against the wall watching Jon intently. Jon’s eyes darted between the men who were now blocking the corridor. His was a corner room at the end of the corridor, so he was basically trapped between them and the wall. His eyes flickered back to the other man and he swallowed heavily, rapidly revising his opinion of the men; maybe it was less of the wanna-be and more of the mafia.

“Hi.” Jon winced, his cheery tone sounded forced, even to himself.

“I am correct, am I not? You are John Bongiovi.” The man in the pinstripe suit pushed himself up from the wall and circJon.Jon.

“Yeah. Yeah I am. And you are?”

He laughed, stopping to stand in front of Jon. He waved one hand dismissively, gold rings glinting in the fluorescent lighting. “Someone who wishes to speak with you. My name is not important.” Jon frowned, his gaze drifting towards the other men once more. “Do not let them worry you. They are merely ensuring we are not disturbed,” he explained with another flash of gold. “I’m sure you can appreciate how… annoying it is when you’re interrupted in the middle of a conversation.” Jon nodded, able to understand what he was saying, but not liking it. He didn’t trust this guy and was starting to feel very uncomfortable.

“So, uhh, what did you want to talk about?”

An icy smile spread across the other man’s face and he leaned in closer to Jon, one hand reaching in his jacket. The cold steel of a gun barrel was pressed again Jon’s head, behind one ear, the ‘security’ men pressing in closer around them.

“I don’t think this is something you’d want to discuss in public, if you get my meaning.”

Jon’s tongue flickered out wetting suddenly dry lips. “Yeah, yeah I get you,” he replied softly, his voice wavering with the fear that was welling up inside of him.

“Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private. Your suite, perhaps?” He pushed Jon backwards slightly, one hand insinuating itself into the pocket of the singer’s jeans, pulling out the key card. Unlocking the door, he pocketed the key himse“Are“Aren’t you going to invite us in?”

Jon shut his eyes; what choice did he have? He was backed up against a wall by a possible mafia-leader who was pressing a gun to his head. And his men were blocking the corridor off. What was he supposed to do? Fight all six, who had God knows how many weapons, with his bare hands?

He sighed and pushed the door open, taking a shaky deep breath as the gun was pulled away from his head. He was motioned in, the others trailing in after him. Hitting the light switch, Jon moved to stand in the centre of the room, watching with dread and fascination as the 5 man ‘security’ team spread out, pulling the drapes across, shutting all the doors and unplugging the ‘phone.

“Nice place,” their leader commented. “Though I really wouldn’t have expected any less from a man of your calibre.” Arms across his chest, Jon tensed as he watched him walk to stand in front of him, gun still held loosely in his hand. “You’re sweating,” he observed, using the gun to brush away the damp hair sticking to Jon’s forehead. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

Jon forced a laugh. “Nervous? Not at all. Why should I be?”

“No reason whatsoever. Relax, Mr Bongiovi, I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk to you about your show this evening.”

“The gig?” Jon frowned. “You were there.”

“We were,. We. We’re all very big fans of your work and allow me to congratulate you on a wonderful concert. There was just one little thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” Jon’s head was reeling; he couldn’t work out for the life of him what was going on here. “Uhmm thanks. Glad you had a good time. So, what was it you wanted to, err, discuss?”

“A girl.”

“A girl?” Jon repeated, confused.

“Yes, you may have seen her. About 5 foot 10, long curly blonde hair, legs that seem to go on forever, and a pair of breasts to be proud of. If I’m correct, she would have been in the front row.”

Jon paled slightly; that sounded like the girl he and Richie had been talking about only a few minutes ago in the bar. Bile rose in his throat; he’d been checking out the girl of a mafia ringleader? He didn’t answer, not knowing what they wanted him to say.

With a snarl, the other man backhanded Jon across the face, rings slashing his lip open. Automatically, Jon brought his hand up, flinching at the sight of blood on his fingers. His tongue found the split as he looked back up, breathing heavily as the adrenalin coursed through him.

“I asked you a question, Mr Bongiovi. I would appreciate it if you would answer.”

Jon nodded. “Yeah. I seen her.”

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

Jon hesitated; what was he supposed to say? Either way would only get him into more trouble. He nodded.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

Jon swore under his breath. “Yeah, she’s pretty,” he winced as his voice wavered.

The icy, calculated smile returned. “She also happens to be my pretty little thing. And I do not like the idea that anyone could take her away from me. Of course, I’m not suggesting that you would do such a thing as I believe you are married with three wonderful children…”

“Leave my kids out of this,” Jon interrupted, his eyes narrowing, hands bunching into fists at his sides.

“Do not worry yourself, your wife and children are perfectly safe. No harm will come to them. Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, smiles from rock stars can promise… things to naïve girls. But just in case you were, shall we say, in need of certain home comforts, I thought I should make it very clear that this particular girl is completely out of bounds.”

“That would never be an issue.” Jon re-iterated, his annoyance leaking through.

“Well, I’m glad we have that cleared up. Thank you for your time, Mr Bongiovi.” Signalling to his men, he turned his back on Jon and walked towards the door.
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Still Standing Tall