Rising Storm | By : AllAmericanPipes Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > All American Rejects Views: 1296 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of The All-American Rejects. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Rising Storm
AllAmericanPipes
Piper McCoy
Part IV
Mike walked down the now fully lit hallway praying that Tyson really had gone early to the recording studio for he didn’t feel like facing him until after he figured out how to keep Brooke safe. That seemed to be the only thought in his mind. He couldn’t let Tyson hurt her again; he wouldn’t. He needed to get her out of there and fast before Tyson figured things out. He soon reached Tyson’s room and stopped in front of it trying to hear if Tyson was behind the door or not. He really didn’t want a confrontation this early in the morning. Upon not hearing anything, he took Brooke’s key from his pocket and slowly opened the door, still slightly worried about whether or not Tyson was there. He walked into the room and let out a sigh. The room was trashed with clothes all about and Chuck Taylors thrown upon the floor in various places. They were too big to be Brooke’s so he knew they were Tyson’s.
“Damn, Tyson is a fucking slob.” He stated slicing through the silence with his own voice. He continued to walk around the room searching for Brooke’s suitcase amid the clutter that belonged to Tyson. His eyes soon glanced over at the bed and saw the bloodstains that were now dried onto the sheets permanently and felt his stomach churn. Suddenly the entire incident began to play in his head as if he had actually been there; it was uncanny how real the images were. He saw Brooke lying in bed as Tyson quietly creped into the room after a long days work at the studio. Mike turned, lost in the images that were floating through his mind and watched as Tyson closed the door softly not wanting to wake Brooke. Tyson walked to the bed and sat as Brooke pulled herself into a sitting position. Tyson seemed to be so gentle with her as if he was afraid he’d break her if he applied any force to her body. Mike shook his head roughly trying to rid himself of the thoughts and images his brain was creating. He needed to find Brooke’s stuff and get the hell out of that room before his anger consumed him. He was angry with Tyson, angry with him for hurting the girl he, Mike, loved. He wanted nothing more then to rearrange Tyson’s face and make him look the way Brooke did now, with half her face swollen and a black eye. He wanted to make Tyson pay for what he’d done, but knew Brooke would never let him do anything of the sort. Soon he spotted Brooke’s suitcase in the corner and as he walked towards it, ready to leave the room, he tripped over Tyson’s vintage ’81 Flying V. “Fuck!” He screamed as he fell face first to the ground. He quickly picked himself up and grabbed her suitcase. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror he noticed the blood on the floor and near the sink. “He must of come in here afterwards.” Mike stated to himself as he glanced around the room from that position. Another image popped into his mind. He saw Brooke lying, broken and ashamed, on the bed and Tyson standing where he was looking out at her. Mike did not see the regret in Tyson’s eyes he only saw what he wanted to see, that lust filled anger that had caused Tyson to hurt Brooke in the first place. Disgusted by the very thought of Tyson putting his hands on Brooke he grabbed her bathroom stuff and stormed out. He sure as hell wasn’t going to stay in that room another moment. When he stepped back into the hallway he could hear loud music coming from a room rather close by and knew that Brooke was out of the shower for it was an All-American Rejects tune. Mike knew it well because she always wanted the guys to play it for her. He opened the door to his room to find Brooke in tears on the bed as ‘The Cigarette Song’ blared from the speakers of the small radio. Mike dropped her bags and rushed to her side. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently laid beside her as he pulled her into a hug. “Shh, things are gonna be ok. You’re safe now.” He whispered as she buried her face in his chest and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around her not wanting to hurt her already frail body.
“I feel so used and so filthy and God I just wanna die.” She managed to get out before another sob caught her tongue. Mike began to caress her back gently trying to get her to calm down a bit. He didn’t want her saying those things about herself because none of them were true.
“Shh, don’t say that. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise I’ll protect you.” He whispered to her before he lightly kissed the top of her head. He wanted so badly to tell her how he felt; tell her that he loved her, but he knew now wasn’t the right time. She needed time to heal and time to get her life back on track. He didn’t want to hurt her again by expressing his love. He couldn’t bring himself to say how much he cared or how he was going to protect her. She only knew that she was safe in his arms. She knew as she cried Mike was pondering ways to protect her from Tyson. She was save with him and she felt better just being near him.
Brooke had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, her fears overcoming her, and had soon fallen asleep in Mike’s comforting, safe, and secure arms. Mike slowly turned his head as to view the time of the clock. Shit, I gotta get to the studio before Tyson fucking freaks. He thought to himself for if he was late Tyson would surely know where Brooke had run off to after her encounter with the devil of rape and that was the last thing Mike wanted though he didn’t think it wise to leave Brooke alone. Unfortunately, he had no other choice for he had promised to protect her and this was the only way to keep her whereabouts a secret. He slowly pulled himself off the bed, sliding Brooke away from him ever so gently so he wouldn’t wake her sleeping form. Once he was on his feet he reached for the blankets and covered her body in an attempt to make up for his warm form no longer being at her side. He smiled to himself as she curled up, the top of the blankets now in her grasp. She looked rather peaceful noting that she had been crying only a few hours before. Mike looked around the room and soon came across a pad of paper and a pen sitting carelessly on the table. He grabbed them both, wanting to leave Brooke some sort of note so she would know where he was and such. He only had to think a moment before he began writing his thoughts out onto the paper. Brooke, I didn’t have the heart to wake you and knew you needed the rest. I didn’t want you thinking I just left you there in your time of need so I decided to leave you a note. I’ve gone to the studio cuz if I’m not there Tyson’s going to know where you are and neither of us want that to happen. You’re gonna have to hang out in the room today. I’ll try my best to slip away so you have some company for a little while. I’ll call you on my lunch break if I can’t get away. I promise I’m gonna keep you safe. – Mikey. He left the note on the nightstand and grabbed his guitar, placing it in the case, and picking it up in his grasp. He took his keys off the nightstand and left the extra hotel card key for Brooke before he quietly walked out, glancing back at her sleeping form one last time before closing the door. He walked into the hallway for the third time that morning and quickly headed to his rented car, which still resided in the parking lot of the hotel. He more or less tossed his guitar in the back seat and proceeded to climb in the front. As he slowly began to pull out of the lot he clicked off the radio, it still having been on from when Brooke was last in his car, needing to clear his head. Everything was happening so fast. He never thought that Tyson would have ever hit Brooke, let alone rape her. Mike knew Tyson treated her badly, but how could Tyson have raped her? Tyson must have heard her cries of help, her screams begging him to stop. Mike couldn’t understand how Tyson could have raped her. Of course, little did Mike know, but Tyson couldn’t believe what he’d done and at this very moment he was sitting in the recording studio. He stared at the crack in the aging wall for he was completely and entirely lost in thought. Nick sat across from him and could tell something wasn’t right. Nick thought a moment and figured he should simply leave Tyson in thought. Nick turned his attention to Chris who was recording once again. Both musicians’ heads turned at the sound of the door opening. Mike stepped in with his guitar in his grasp. Tyson glared at him as Mike glared back. Nick thought this rather odd. He knew that Brooke and Tyson had gotten into a fight, but he hadn’t talked with Tyson about it just yet. From the look on Tyson’s face Nick knew Mike was all a part of things and now wondered if Brooke had cheated on Tyson, never thinking his best friend to be the villain, which in this case he was. Mike sat in a chair on the other side of the room. The tension was once again rising and Tyson began loosing his cool once again as his anger over took him. He rose from his chair as Mike took his guitar from its case. Mike soon glanced up and saw Tyson standing in front of him, looking like he was ready to kill with his hands balled into fists and his teeth clenched in rage. Mike was now caught in the storms path.
“Where is she?” Tyson asked through his teeth, trying desperately not to scream. Nick watched things closely as Chris walked out of the recording booth.
“She’s safe.” Mike replied as he placed his Les Paul on its stand and rose to Tyson’s level, looking him straight in the eyes.
“What the fuck do you mean safe!? Where the hell is she!?” Tyson yelled into Mike’s face. Nick knew he needed to jump in, but resisted the urge for something told him that Tyson and Mike needed to battle this thing out.
“I mean she’s away from you!” Mike screamed back, his own anger now also rising. Tyson raised his fist and soon it made contact with Mike’s face. The two men were now engaged in a fistfight. Nick and Chris jumped in pulling the two musicians apart; Nick holding back Tyson and Chris holding Mike.
“What the fuck is going on with you two!?” Nick questioned in a loud tone.
“Why don’t you tell him, Ty! Tell him how you fucking raped her, you fucking sick freak!” Mike retorted causing Tyson to break lose of Nick’s grasp and run out of the studio. Mike again sat, Chris having let him go, and set out a sigh. He looked up to meet Nick and Chris’s gaze. “Look, I’ll explain it to you later. I gotta go get Brooke. I can’t let him hurt her again.” With that he stowed his guitar back in the case and headed back towards his car. He noticed Tyson’s car had left the parking lot. Fear rose in him fast for he knew where Tyson was headed and knew Brooke was in severe danger. The storm was nearing an end. Mike only hoped he could protect Brooke from its final wrath.
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