All In The Name Of...

Rearviewmirror

{ * = A/N at the end of the chapter. ALSO, IMPORTANT: Trigger warning for domestic abuse.}

The next day was no better than the night before it as far as being assaulted by paparazzi went. Our house, by the next day, had reporters all around it, surrounding our property from public grounds. Axl and I wasted no time shutting all the curtains, and although it prevented any natural light from coming inside, the rest of the world was out. I personally hoped that it would start thundering.

"Why the fuck won't they fucking go away!" Axl roared, slamming a now empty bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen floor. I knew well enough not to respond, or even try to calm him down. It wasn't quite worth the effort at the moment. "Better fucking yet, who's the piece of shit who even got it out that you were pregnant?" He turned to me, his nostrils flaring in anger. "Who'd you tell, Stella?"

I sighed, wanting to remain calm more for my child's sake than for mine. "Other than the people we had over for Thanksgiving? Izzy, Steven, Vince, Bret Michaels, and Vicky. There was no one else that needs to know at the moment, babe." He huffed to himself, crossing his arms. He almost turned to grab another object to throw, but before he could, there was a vicious knocking on the door.

Cautiously, I peeped out the window, only to see Nikki Sixx trying to get inside; he seemed to be just as pissed as my husband was. Nikki's temper wasn't too terrible, but if he got mad, he got mad. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, only to watch Nikki half-fall inside. "Jesus Christ, you fucking psychos, I didn't sleep with her!" He stumbled in, and I moved out of the way so he could collapse on the couch.

"Do either of you have any idea why the hell I had paps crawling outside the door? Reminds me of the heroin-Mexicans..." I let a small laugh escape my lips, but then looked at my best friend with all seriousness in the world.

"Someone let it slip that I was pregnant, and now the paparazzi is having a goddamned field day." Nikki asked who I'd told, and I gave him the same answer that I gave Axl. "Why? Who do you think spilled?"

Axl decided to enlighten us first. "It was probably Jasmine. If she's really as big of a bitch as you've been saying, I think she'd have a good reason to want to fuck you over." I groaned at the idea of it; if Jasmine was actually out to get me, then it would be a hell of a lot harder to just about everything.

Nikki, on the other hand, shook his head. "My money's on your psycho mother. Anyone with a good enough motive can get what they want done, no matter what." I sighed, shuddering at the idea; I was hoping that the arson would be the end of it, but there was a possibility that somehow, she hadn't given up.

"And how exactly do you two plan on figuring it out?" I asked the two of them. 

"That, my dear," Axl replied, "is not your problem. It ain't worth your stress, babe, you need to relax." Although I did appreciate the intention behind it, I rolled my eyes. For one, I was only a month pregnant, and for two, it would be ridiculous to put myself on any sort of hiatus anyway unless it had a direct danger to the baby itself.

Crossing my arms, I sighed. "Well, I'm not about to go on a nine-month bed rest, babe. Just because you cut out part of your tour doesn't mean I'm cutting out part of my reunion."* Axl rolled his eyes as well, sighing back. I was as stubborn as he was if I wanted to be, and I assumed he knew he wasn't going to win the battle.

I decided to at least try and call Vicky to see if anyone was scoping around her house. If someone knew about my pregnancy, there was also a chance they knew about the Conspirators' reunion, so I could at least start working on that. I picked up the number she gave me and dialed the number carefully. Axl, meanwhile, decided to go outside and deal with the reporters himself.