Book 4: My Hands Are Tied (Axl Rose FanFic)

Ch. 3: Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**TRIGGER WARNING: references to sexual assault ahead. Also some blood and violence.**

————————

"Goddamn Axl. Soon as I thought I had him pegged, he went and did one of the most touching, meaningful things anyone's ever done for me. That was so cool. Thanks, Axl." -Steven

Izzy was quick to come to Tom's rescue, deescalating the situation like only a true, highly-trained bomb squad member could. He casually sauntered over, draped an arm over my shoulders and offered his other arm out to Tom, finally accepting Tom's handshake.

Something about the weight of Izzy's arm made me feel grounded again, while the secure grip of his hold kept me-and, more importantly, my emotions-reigned in. All of the muscles in me that had been tensed up, ready for a beat down, were now falling slack again.

"Remember: he's going to help us make a lot of money..." Izzy murmured against my ear.

Yeah, yeah. I wanted to say it out loud, but I managed to restrain myself.

"What's up?" Izzy's voice was smooth, causing Tom to look more upbeat again.

"Tom Zutaut. Nice to meet you."

"Izzy Stradlin. Likewise."

Now that a truce seemed to have been called, Tom's grin brightened and he eagerly ushered Izzy and I into an impromptu meeting in the corner of the room-far away from everyone else, including my intended target. To sweeten the deal, he even got us a few beers of our own, though Izzy and I were the 2 in the band who didn't appreciate the gesture as well as the others might've. Izzy preferred drugs and I preferred nothing at all.

Oh well. Free is free.

Since the other guys had disappeared off to God knows where doing God knows what, there wasn't a whole lot that Tom could offer us right this moment. Instead, we agreed to get the crew together for an official signing date next month: March 26. It felt like forever away, but it gave Tom enough time to dot some i's and cross some t's, while also giving us some time to...I dunno'. Get even rowdier?

"It was very-erm, nice to meet you both, and I'm...excited to meet the rest of the group." Except the way he said "excited" sounded more weary than excited. "Keep up the good work, and I'll see you soon."

Tom excused himself with a nod and a wave and, just like that, it was over.

Usually I was better at talking than Izzy was and would readily pick up the proverbial slack, but I had such a mixture of annoyance and excitement in me that I only managed a couple of nods and a strained smile in the heat of the moment. Izzy did his usual Izzy thing of pretending that he had hardly heard anything at all, taking pensive sips of his beer as Tom spoke. Tom probably thought we were just acting cool, but the truth was we had a lot riding on this, and that was terrifying.

When Tom was finally out of sight and-more importantly-out of earshot, as if reading each other's minds, we turned so that we were face to face.

"Fuck yeah," we said in unison, clinking our bottles together. Sometimes Izzy and I managed to be on the same wavelength. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

"Now that that's over, I'm leavin'," I said, gulping down the rest of my bottle in one swig.

"Same here." Thankfully, Izzy didn't ask what my next stop was, and I didn't ask about his either.

Sure, I was super stoked about the record deal. It was what we had worked so hard for, what we'd all been dreaming of. Izzy and I especially had left all we knew behind and moved out to California with only a hope and a dream, so this was absolutely monumental for us. But also, in the back of my mind, I felt like something even bigger was stirring.