Aubrey (Axis Rising)

016:

*****016:

Aubrey

I could see the stage, the people, the lights and the people around it. It was dim, bluish. Projections of artistic geometric designs flashed randomly, or acutely non-random depending on how you looked at it. I recalled the hype, the feelings of exuberance and anticipation being on the floor caused. I could see girls on their guys shoulders, and I remembered being on Juan's shoulders, the big guy in Tijuana, or wherever we'd been.

Since I got pregnant I couldn't remember anything, and frankly, I had a new appreciation for women who told me that they lost their ability to think and focus during their pregnancy. I believed them in a surface sort of way before. Now I believed them in a pertinent sort of way. It was real, real, real!--- and I had it, had it, had it!

Virgil was already sitting up next to our overlook, this suite was catered with all kinds of amazing food, kid friendly, obviously arranged by one of Axis' specialists. He had a bolted to the ground recliner, facing the floor to ceiling windows, eye level with the video screens and the stage in the pit, filled with teeming hordes of scantily dressed and cheering fans. He'd practically strapped himself in.

The other two, and their nanny were getting toys out of their diaper bag, brought from home for the occasion, rummaging in the kitchenette cupboards for other things to play with, while Abbie struggled vainly to curb their mess making skills. I had been told to sit feet up—and watch the concert.

I wanted to do just that.

Down there, concert spotlights flashed and swiveled showing the crowd now and then, landing on huge masses of seething humanity, and then flashing away, leaving the teeny tiny upheld cell phone candles videoing as Rafe and the guys came onstage to a thunder of overwhelming proportion. From up here, it felt like an earthquake.

The music was easily available coming through speakers as well as below. As soon as it started Virgil leaned forward, concentrating intensely. I loved his expression; awe, attentive-- waiting for the spotlight to illuminate whatever was coming next. He'd never been to a concert, and never realized that Rafe would be the one performing, even though we'd told him.

I watched Virgil almost as much as I was watching Rafe and the guys. The bright lights strobed onto the band as the music filled overwhelmingly-- the arena. Rafe was out in center stage, his body tense with energy, his holey blue jeans and plain white t-shirt somehow perfect for the bad boy rocker he was; and I knew Virgil was straining to see if Rafe wore the light up sneakers he'd chosen for him. We couldn't tell at all. The stage itself was lit with the same kinds of running lights.

We knew the songs. I heard Virgil singing under his breath, and he finally stood, and then knelt as close to the window as he could, to be able to see and feel the show better. Felicity was finally drawn in too, and she came and knelt beside Virgil, captivated as she realized it was Dad down there. She started pointing excitedly, bouncing on her knees.

Abbie had Rein in her arms and they gravitated to the viewing area, although mounted TV's at three foot intervals all over the upper walls of the suite were showing us the same thing.

I knew it was mesmerizing. I'd done it from as many angles while on tour as I could. And I still felt the bewitching fascination live music elicited. All of it came back to me, all of it in its primal raging glory. I couldn't stop my ear splitting grins. I loved, loved, loved that the kids were seeing Rafe in this capacity--- as a musician, as a star.

The next song was hot on the heels of the first. We caught glimpses of Ben, Jeff, Mutt, and Jeremy, and on the screen, they showed Levi rocking away on the drums. Virgil's eyes were huge saucers glittering with reflected light. He glanced from the screens to the stage and back in darting anticipation not wanting to miss anything.

After each song, Rafe traveled the stage, thanking the audience in exuberant yells and clapping over his head. He bounced, he jived, he ran, he skipped. Every move he made, Virgil leaned with him, bouncing now and then, his body on fire with the familiar tunes. Even Abbie was watching our little guy, his enthusiasm was contagious.

After a few more songs, the band took a small break, not leaving the stage but getting water and Rafe spoke to the audience, telling them about the tour, about the music, about how much they meant to the band. There was awesome, amazing thunderous applause and screaming.

There was a knock on our suite door.

I missed it completely, being far closer to the action than Abbie who turned reluctantly to answer it. She opened it without looking through the peephole, expecting concert security, she told me later, but outside was a dark skinned, darkly good-looking man.

"Aubrey?" he questioned with an accented voice, heavily British, perhaps. I heard that and turned from the comfy seat even more reluctantly.

"Yes?"

For a split second, when he reached inside his coat I had the horrible breathless impression that he was about to draw a gun and shoot me. Instead, he came forward, ignoring Abbie, his eyes on the children at the window, especially Felicity. He handed me a manila envelope.

"Yes?" I asked again, turning my full attention on him. I took the proffered envelope. "What is it?"

"I don't know, ma'am. I'm just a server. I assume it is some kind of subpoena."

"Excuse me? Here? What in the world?" I yanked myself up from the chair just as Aidan and Keeva both rushed into the room. Where had they been in the first place? Aidan instantly maneuvered between the man and the kids, formidably asking pertinent questions as I returned to my seat. We could see that although the man's eyes were trained somewhat on me, it was the children he stared hardest at.

"State your business. How did you get in here?"

"I found out where the Stryker's would be in this public setting, and used my authority as a bond server to gain access to Mrs. Stryker. Most of the time she is behind closed gates and almost impossible to serve personally. Mr. Stryker was served at his place of employment last week."

"Rafe never said anything to me about anything." I said slowly, recalling a DCMA notice that Ben had brought nearly a week ago. Was this related to that? But that would have been for Axis and given to the attorneys there. My eyes mirrored my confusion.

Aidan reached for the envelope. "You deal with me, not her." He snapped the envelope away and flicked it with two fingers. "This is a private room, and Mrs. Stryker is not taking any visitor's even from a bond server. Please contact her representatives in the future."

The man looked like he might laugh. I felt weirded out completely.

He turned slowly, deliberately trying not to look intimidated. As the door shut behind him I gave Aidan one piercing glare. "How does something like that happen?"

"It will never happen again." Aidan looked completely abashed and I knew-- knew he'd been either watching the concert or making out with his wife, Keeva. The thought shocked me, as I was sure Aidan was on the job when he was on the job. The thought of them both being not on the job was killer. I expected a certain level of protection after all we'd been through. Perhaps they wouldn't be able to work together. I could see by Keeva's pale face that she registered this eventuality as well.

They positioned themselves at the entrance and near the door to the second room, and I faced the concert, feeling the ever widening gulf between us in dismay. A chill had set in, and I was terribly hurt.

"Give me the envelope." I said.

"I'll take care of it, you shouldn't be bothered with it." Aidan replied firmly.

"I said, give me the envelope." He did.

I ripped it open, and perused it calmly, my blood freezing in my veins.

A man named Roberto Jimenez claimed to be a close living relative of Felicity Nemesio of Sonora Mexico, and was suing us for custody.

*****