Decades

Terribly Ugly

At this moment, Stevie Nicks was raging mad at Lindsey for a million reasons. Her goal right now was to provoke him. Last night, he'd been just what she needed. She'd felt so comfortable and comforted in his arms. But, finding out this morning what he'd done infuriated her, practically erasing how good it had felt last night to sleep in his arms.

Granted, Russell was being a jerk, and she was sort of glad to see that happen. But, he could press charges or report that Lindsey was angry and violent. Writing something really unflattering about both of them could really hurt the band and their personal lives.

But, the thing that pissed her off most of all was his attitude towards her making her own choices, especially when it came to her own sex life and the men she chose to see. She was quite capable of making her own decisions. Furthermore, why was he interfering? He'd dumped her months ago and hadn't wanted her when she offered herself to him.

She was a rock and roll singer. Nobody was going to be offended if she got media attention for being seen with a few different men. That wouldn't be a reason for him to be protective of her reputation.

Yet, last night, he'd just held her so protectively. He'd been so gentle. They hadn't talked, but he'd been there for her in exactly the way she'd needed. He felt sorry for her, she supposed. Even though he was pretty much the root of the problem. He should feel bad.

—---------

The rage Lindsey was experiencing matched Stevie's. Damn her. She'd made promises to him that she'd had no intention of keeping, and had jumped back into bed with Don Henley the first opportunity she had. She was killing herself with drugs, and from what he heard, she was sleeping with every man she could. He wasn't sure he even knew her anymore, hell, maybe he never did know her.

Seeing her last night, looking so vulnerable, had caused him to have a lapse in judgment. She didn't want him. She just wanted comfort last night and sex earlier that day. She didn't want all of him, only the parts that served her well when she conveniently needed them. Otherwise, she wouldn't have ditched him the way she did for Don.

He was just defending her and trying to take care of her with the reporter, yet she found a way to be angry with him instead of appreciating what he was doing for her. Had she been dying to fuck this smarmy reporter? Was she that upset that she'd missed out on him? It was disgusting, Lindsey thought.

—-----------------

"Why are you here? Hoping to punish me some more before the next round of media, you son of a bitch." Stevie felt Lindsey's grip tighten around her wrists; he was struggling with his reaction, and she wanted to goad and push him further. She had him where she wanted him. She wanted to wreck him the way he'd wrecked her when he left her.

"Get your hands off of me," she told him coldly. "I hate it when you touch me," throwing daggers and hoping something would land and cripple him.

"You didn't mind last night when you were crying in my arms at the party," Lindsey sneered.

"I was fucked up," she dismissed what he was saying. "I didn't even know it was you until I woke up this morning," she lied.

"Well, you weren't fucked up when you were trying to get me to sleep with you when we first arrived. And if I remember correctly, fucking involves a lot of touching. It didn't seem like you hated it then," he said with an arrogant sneer that she detested.

Lindsey took another step closer to her. She could feel the bed pressed against the backs of her thighs. Stevie's wrists were firmly behind her back, and he held them there with both hands. His body was pressed against hers. She knew if she wanted to get away, she could. It wasn't as if there was a safe word between them, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she truly wanted to end this, whatever this was, she could.

However, she didn't want to end this at all. She wanted it to escalate, to get out of control. She wanted rage. Right now, she wanted to fight with him. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted him to take her roughly. She wanted to understand why he had dropped her the way he did.

She wanted things to turn raw and ugly and nasty and, most of all, honest, even if she had to lie to make it happen.

—-----------------

"I didn't want you," she laughed bitterly, "You're flattering yourself, I was just bored. I mean, you were in my bed last night. If I'd actually wanted you, don't you think that would have been the time?"

He searched her face, wondering if she was telling the truth. She saw the flicker of doubt and knew she'd hit her intended target. So, she proceeded with another volley of arrows intended to injure and inflame. She'd continue until she got the reaction she was looking for, knowing she was being horrible but needing to release some of the pent-up anger she had been feeling towards him.

"I'm not like you, Lindsey. I mean, seriously, I don't go looking for a Lindsey look-alike when I want to get laid," Stevie said with pure spite. "How does it feel? Waking up every day with a cheap dupe instead of the real thing?"

He looked into her face with his jaw clenched with resentment. His hands, tight around her wrists, were rigid. But, still no reaction.

Stevie continued her tirade. She wouldn't be stopped until she'd goaded him enough for him to react wildly. "Do you think of me when you're fucking Carol Ann?" she waited, seeing in his eyes that he did. She satisfiedly observed the anger and humiliation building in his expression.

Finally, as a last effort to hurt him, she laughed in his face and said, "Because when Don fucks me, I don't think of you at all."

At this, Lindsey let go of Stevie and stepped away. The rage that had been intensifying turned to heartbreak. It hurt too much to imagine her with someone else. He wouldn't play this game anymore. She'd hurt him so much, tripping over herself to go back to Don after promising him a future. She'd told him exactly what he'd feared, that when she was with Don, she didn't think of him at all.

He had to get away from her.

She'd gone too far, and she knew it. And her rage was replaced with fear and horror at what she'd done.