Afterlife - Chapter 16

16

“Stop…”  The word was barely a whisper.  More of a moan really, swallowed almost in its entirety by the descending veil of droplets. 

“Stop?”  Michael’s own hoarse question against her sensitized flesh caused a shiver to transmit across her skin and muscles of her legs.  He smiled against her, placing another kiss against her swollen pedals.

Lisa’s eyes opened in that drowsy, post climactic way that had always haunted his hottest dreams.  Those eyes alone could bring his cock to full attention.  Oh yeah…he was ready again, and certainly not in the mood to stop at all.  He could stop later at some point, and maybe even sleep, but now he had to finish what he started.  Or restarted after a night full of activity.  

The mere memory broadened his smile.  He had been on a mission last night… And it was almost accomplished. For now- till he started to reclaim his studio that stupid asshole had fucked up.   

“Well…not ‘stop’ stop. Just gimme a second to catch my breath.”  Her eyes focused on him and she gifted him with a lazy, lopsided smile, her eyelids heavy. Her voice the auditory equivalent of sex on a stick.

“What? I’m not doing anything…” Not being able to suppress a giggle, he licked across the tender, pink nubbin he had just minutes before suckled and tortured real good with his tongue.  It was just a light contact, but she shuddered once more.

“Dammit…you…” Her eyes closed once more and her fingers tightened on his shoulder. Somehow that sounded like the most wonderful endearment…Lisa style. 

Taking pity on her, Michael started to kiss a path up her belly, taking a little detour at each erect nipple, then paying thorough attention to the water droplets on her neck, mixing deliciously with her sweat. Kissing the delicious, sexy lips of her mouth this time, he fed her a taste of her own rapture from minutes ago.  Lisa moaned against him, her hands gliding up his wet back, one making it his his hair, while the other one descended and landed on his ass.  Bringing his aching, throbbing dick against her. Oh yeah…

They broke the kiss, but remained deliciously close, panting heavily, greedily inhaling each other’s breath.  

The blue eyes opening half way, Lisa’s upper lip once again curled into that famous smile.  With the dirty twist he adored. 

“My turn….”  

Oh hell, yeah! His cocked jumped, delighting in the heavily promise of her eyes and those pouting lips.  Ruby red velvet made to suck him dry. Damn, shower sex after a night devoted to the task of reclaiming what used to be their bedroom, and no doubt had been the bed she had shared with this dumbass she’d soon enough share divorce papers with, sure was amazing.  Refreshing. Electrifying. 

Not that making love all night, giving it to her the way she liked it, hard and demanding, then soft and gentle had not been amazing, refreshing, and electrifying.   Especially in that room. There was something primal about it, but he had the urge to make sure she would never again associate that bed with her current marriage ever again.  Obviously, the furniture would be tossed, but for now, claiming her in every conceivable way and hearing her whisper and scream his name as he made her climax over and over had been pretty sweet. If that little skinny white brother thought he could start a pissing contest by fucking some little hoe in Michael’s studio, he’d do him one better and erase him from this particular bed. There! Who was the man now?

Some remnant adult part of his brain told him, he was being pretty childish and there was no need for such caveman thinking, but oh well.  He could be all mature and sweet in public- right now he was making sure his woman wouldn’t focus on anything but their love.  If Lockwood’s name had been on the whiteboard of her mind at all, he had pretty darn well erased any reminders. And replaced them with his own mark. Branding her his. Forever.   And judging from the fire dipped kisses and nips she bestowed on him as she sank to her knees before him while he held his once again fully erect manhood out to her, he was on the right path to etching his own name forever into the bedposts of her soul. And her bed. The floor, the shower… And later the studio for sure.

Hours later, the echo of Lisa’s screams still fresh in the air, and having just cum himself so hard he felt dizzy and weak, yet utterly satisfied, he pulled Lisa’s sweaty body against his, sinking onto the bed behind her.  

“You said Ben was over?  Hope he still has that amazing sound sleep.”

“Why? Was I snoring that loudly?” Lisa joked. 

“Man, if you always snore by calling out my name, no wonder you married someone who might think you mean him…”

“Oh, stop it…” Lisa pinched his side making him laugh before he retaliated, then pulled her close once again.  God. He was utterly exhausted! And never had felt more alive.

Having taken her in the shower, they had gotten sidetracked once more when Lisa dried herself off, making sure she bent over just right, gifting him with a lovely view of the swollen pussy he had worked over quite masterfully. What started on the floor was finished on the bed after one thing had led to another.  Funny how that still kept happening. 

“You done with your little job?” Lisa, slightly breathless asked, and he could tell she was smiling.

“Loving you? Never…”  He kissed her shoulder, delighting in the salty taste.

“I should hope not. But you don’t fool me…you were on a mission, weren’t you?”

Michael bit his lip, trying hard to retain what he thought was a pretty clueless expression.  Knowing full well she was on to him.

“I got no clue what you’re talking ‘bout…”  Kissing her neck, he used a strand of her hair to tickle her shoulder.

Lisa moved against him, as he spooned her, his sensitive member making it his turn to shiver.  

“Jackson, you think you’re so damn stealthy, but I know you. When you’re going to it like you just did, I know you’re trying to mark your territory.” 

Ahhh….he wouldn’t have exactly put it that way… It made him sound like..like..some Neanderthal. When it was more about… Michael glanced over the actual marks he had left on her body.  Kissing one on her shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile.  Damn… Well….

Well, what?  And yeah, she does know you.  Meaning, sadly this isn’t the first time, is it? 

No, but it would damn well be the last. The last time that primal urge to claim his woman would have to raise its primordial head.  Like it had way back when she was with Danny, then her parade of losers during those frantic years after their divorce, and finally Cage and his arrogant ass.  Well, he’d shown them all. Had proven Lisa that no one would measure up to the way he loved her.  And not just in a physical sense, either. He had put up with her trifling shit.  After all, once he was done justifying the Debbie thing, and opened his eyes that he had hurt Lisa and put all his eggs, or more fittingly his sperm, in the wrong basket, he saw his patience as a way to do penance.  His walk on thorns to pave the road back to her heart. 

And still…something had been broken.  In both of them. Mistrust had snuck in. An invisible seed at first. Then, a vine like weed, choking his heart, immobilizing him.  Lisa had sensed it, too.  Promises had been made and broken.  On both sides.  Lisa hadn’t seemed ready.  They had been caught in some hellish dance.  He had held off making his move.  Whenever he had been this close to making things official again, she had chosen that time to lose her patience and step out, hurting him, cutting his ability to trust shorter and shorter- until there was none left.  At some point he had convinced himself it was just not meant to be.  He was not marrying material.  Marriage was too hard and almost impossible to figure out.  He didn’t need a partner.  He had his kids.  The lies he told himself could fill a library. Every one had lost: Lisa, his kids, he, himself. Trusting was difficult; but living alone was hell.  He’d have to take the leap.  Lisa had always had his back.  She had lashed out, but she had never betrayed him.  In the end, with all her pouting and stomping her feet, she had kept what they had shared in sacred trust.  

“The thing is…” Lisa’s deep, calm voice interrupted his thoughts. “You don’t need to be claiming nothing. I’m all yours. You know that, right?”

Lisa had turned her head, searching out his eyes.

Michael blinked and kissed her nose.

“I know we gotta get you some food…I think I might have to see what we can do about making that studio ours later on.”

The expression in Lisa’s eyes told him she didn’t exactly buy his joking tone.  She turned all the way around, facing him.  Her small, warm hand touched his face lovingly.  Her eyes remained serious.

“What?”  Michael asked, feeling the presence of something he could not quite name.

“Nothing. I just…” Lisa swallowed.  “I just sometimes still can’t believe I’m looking at you.  Like this.  I still dream I wake up and it’s all not true. That you’re …gone…”

“Lisa Marie….” Michael cradled her face, as always noticing how small she felt and looked.  

“Don’t you dare and leave me…. Ever…. I can’t… I just got you back.”

What the hell was going on with her?

“Lisa, I done told you. You’re stuck with me.  We got this.  This time, we got this. Promise.”

He halfway expected her to counter that he had promised before.  Instead, she lowered her gaze in an obvious effort to pull herself together.  Was she about to cry? Michael wondered if her time of the month was coming up soon. She seemed very emotional today.  Then again- Lockwood had put her through the ringer the previous day.  So, that was probably it.  Well, maybe he needed to make some calls to ensure that little loser wasn’t going to needle Lisa any longer.  There had to be something that could be done.  Other than installing a new floor in the studio and going furniture shopping.  Maybe it was also time to find a new house.  The Hidden Hills home had a treasure trove of great memories- but it also had some major, stinky ass skeletons in the closets.  

Running away from another house, Mike?  Think you can outrun those memories… It didn’t work for Neverland, think you’re smart plan will come to fruition here?

“Okay…I’m sorry. Not sure what got into me…” Lisa kissed him lightly and sat up.

Oh, no. She wasn’t going to get off that easily. Michael pulled her back down, kissing her thoroughly, his tongue once again sweeping in, dancing against hers.  “Other than me?”

“Other than you. Over and over…”

Once again, his semi hard stiffened.  Wow.  Maybe he wasn’t as old as he had thought. 

“And over…”

His gaze fell to her alarm clock. Shit! He had no idea it was this late.  Time flew when you were busy reclaiming a bed.

“Hey- you know what? How ‘bout we meet up later on? I gotta get to a meeting…” Of course, if she offered any encouragement, he could be convinced to be late. Very late…

“Sure. That works. I got some errands to run as well.”

Was it his imagination or was she averting her eyes? What was it? Was she meeting her mother? Or worse, Lookweird? The thoughts brought his boner down a bit.

“Oh?” One more kiss, and Michael got up, making it out of bed with slightly stiff limbs. Well, not that limb..that one had been taken care of quite nicely for now.

“Yeah- some things I gotta take care of while I’m here in LA.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Like kick Scarecrow’s ass back to Oz and gift her mother with a new broom to fly off into oblivion? 

“No, Michael. I got it.” Lisa pulled on her jeans and kissed him. “I’m a big girl now.”

Was she hedging? She sure seemed a bit odd right about now…

Why was he so suspicious?  Not like he liked to talk about business. Then again, Lisa hadn’t come straight on out and said she had a business meeting. 

“Does this have to do with your album?  Seeing you’re all secretive and all….”

Lisa laughed- and it seemed to be a little forced.  “I’m not being secretive. Some big shot once told me one shouldn’t mix business and private life.”

Okay…. So, it was business? But not her album? Seeing she sold off most of her shares in EPE, he was curious what other business she had to attend to. But digging wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Smart big shot. Let’s meet up for lunch…well..late lunch. Okay?”

Knowing himself pretty well, he was fairly confident he’d pry the truth out of her. Or maybe he should let sleeping dogs lie. Incase the sleeping dog was his ex-mother in law after all.

Michael checked his phone, noticing several missed calls and some texts from Kenny and others concerning changes he had envisioned for the shows.  Immediately, his brain switched to work mode and he felt the stress level rising once more.  God! As much as he loved doing those shows for the fans, he could not wait till this part of his life was finally over.  It was not the same anymore.  Performing was no longer his home and refuge.  Not when it was tied to those vultures he had slaved himself out to.  Almost done, though.  So close.  He could do this.  And then the rest of his life, his life with Lisa and the kids, could finally start.  A life of tranquility, holding Lisa, watching the kids grow up…sharing those special moments. The very thought filled him with such peace and happiness. 

Michael had originally planned to stop by and visit his mother, but on the way, he received another call from one of Philipps’ flunkies, asking him to be at the meeting an hour earlier than planned.  Irritation rose.  Who the fuck did that man think he was? Ordering him around like he was some errand boy?  How about he pick up the damn phone himself?  This was not going to cut it.  Michael was sick and tired of being ordered around by these people.  Maybe the meeting was a great starting point to lay down the law.  This was a business partnership.  And without him they had nil.  So, maybe it was time they stopped acting like they owned him.  The very thought caused him to smile.  Oh yeah! He was on top of the world again- or at least on the way back to the summit.  Things were finally falling back into place.  Funny how it all seemed to hinge on that little woman he once had thought was simply no good for him.

Picking up his phone, Michael send out a quick text: 

-You got me wide open, u now that?

The words sat there for a second before the typing bubble indicating Lisa was replying became visible.

• KNOW?
• that 2 
• LOL! Meaning?

As if she didn’t know how crazy he was about her. But hey- he’d never get tired of telling her over and over. Never again.

• U KNOW how much i love u?

A small pause.  Little player! Michael smiled to himself. 

• So u luv me, hm? Petty convenient, seeing I love you a lot, too.  Never forget that.

No chance that was about to happen.  The time for doubt had finally expired.

• Forget? I aint that old.  … Wait, who are you again? ;)
• Keep it up, buster. I’ll refresh your memory real quick later
• Promises…
• Stay hydrated :p - Gotta run- luv u! 
• Love u more!

Feeling new strength and resolve, Michael arrived downtown at Philipps’ LA office.  He was led into an empty conference room and after the sweet little lady offered him tea and water, he was informed that Mr Phillips was held up.

Seriously? Well, wasn’t that damn skippy? First he moved the damn meeting up, then let him wait?  Un-fucking-real! Michael felt his blood pressure rising,  and took a sip of the tea that arrived in the nick of time.  

Killing time, Michael checked in on the children  and then made sure everything was in place for their trip to LA before they’d all head back to the UK within the next couple of days.  Paris had been in pouting mode once she found out her visit with Mommy Dearest were about to be cut short, but no doubt she’d find something way better to do soon.  A visit with her cousins might be just what was needed.  Maybe that’s what he needed to do: make sure the kids had more company their own age.  And thanks to the procreation habits of his brothers there was never a lack of family hanging around at Hayvenhurst.  On his dime.  Oh well… If Phillips fucked about, Michael was of half a mind to extend the visit with his mother and delay his departure.  But no, his luck they’d add some more dates later on.  Not when the end was finally in sight! So, he’d better get back on time. Get this shit done and move on with his life. Free and clear!  

After talking to the kids and making sure his staff was clear about keeping Deb away during his absence, he briefly talked to his mother to confirm she was meeting the children at the private jet he had chartered, then called Tom to inquire about the best divorce and custody lawyer money could buy.  That information would be a nice present for Lisa later. 

Michael checked his watch and compared it to the time on his cell.  Damn! 35 minutes already? Sitting still became more and more impossible, and Michael’s irritation was whipped higher and higher.  This would never have happened in the past! He didn't wait for people! People waited for him! This shit was about to stop! 

Michael rose and geared up to stomp out of the office. Fuck Phillips! If this meeting was so damn urgent, he should have had his ass here. HIs time was valuable and the man was just about to find out that none would keep Michael Jackson waiting. 

As he opened the door to storm out, the cute little assistant stood there, her eyes about to bug out of her head, her face flushed.  No doubt, she was cued in to his escape attempt. Maybe he should have tunneled out. Or used a decoy. Like prisoners at Alcatraz had done. Only to be eaten by sharks.  Sharks no doubt way more harmless than Phillips. 

“Mister Jackson…” The girl pleaded breathlessly. 

“Look…Tasha…right?” He flashed her a smile and the girl blushed even more furiously.

Oh yeah, he still got it!

“Tasha, please tell Randy I waited and now I’m done. I have another important meeting, so please if he could…”

“Mister Jackson…” Tasha interjected, no doubt instructed to keep him chained in place. Well, Phillips might have sent a physically stronger jailer. Or one he, Michael, could not use for charm target practice. 

“Michael, please…” Michael touched her shoulder lightly.

“Michael… Ah…. I am so sorry. But Mister Phillips asked if you could please turn on the intercom so he could start your meeting that way…”

“The intercom?”  Michael asked, the strange request strengthening  his resolve to blow this popsicle stand.

“Yessir…the intercom.  He…he said he got held up, but since part of his other meeting concerns you, it might save you time if you popped in that way.”

Well, if part of his meeting concerned Michael, why did Phillips simply not do the most logical thing and ask him in? That man seriously had zero brains.

“Okay…’ Michael was more than iffy about this new development. This was just odd.  The little lady seemed to notice his hesitation.

“I’m sorry… I’m just passing on the message. Would you…would you care for more tea, sir?”

Michael looked at the intercom on the table, then back to the flustered young lady. She was too cute.  Poor little thing. Probably just another flunky Philips liked to torture. She looked like she was about to pass out.

“Well…. Actually, what I want to do is leave. So please, if you simply tell Randy that Mister Jackson had another meeting to…”

“Sir, he specifically told me it was my job to make sure you tune in to that other meeting …”  The poor little thing looked as if she was about to burst into tears. Jeeze! 

Michael started to feel really bad for her. 

“Okay, fine. Yes, thank you. I’ll have another cup of tea. But I might still have to leave.  I am very busy and Randy is seriously late.  Are you sure you’re okay? May I offer a suggestion? Maybe you need to look for another job? This one seems…stressful. Do you like working for Randy Phillips?” For a minute he could not recall her name. Tina? He read her name tag:  “Tasha”-  Man, his memory was getting bad! Maybe it was cause Lisa had fucked his brains out… 

Focus…your memory is bad, man, and your focus is about gone, too… You get to go back to her soon enough. See her smile..taste her lips…hold her hand…

The images provoked by the nice thoughts birthed a smile and helped refocus to the current, slightly unpleasant situation. Well, talking to little Tasha wasn’t unpleasant, just the stupid waiting game and the obvious disrespect had him on edge.  Somehow, the strange sense of foreboding would not leave.  Hey…after everything he had been though, what’s the worst that could happen?

Tasha seemed to hesitate with her answer. Michael started to notice that every time he called Phillips “Randy,” the little lady flinched. Gosh- she seemed positively shell-shocked. What was Phillips doing to his employees? 

Tasha’s mouth opened, then closed again. “It’s okay…It’s a job. But thank you for asking, Mister Jackson.”

Well, that was a ringing endorsement if ever he had heard one.  Then again, the poor thing probably had some sort of listening devices implanted. 

“Michael, remember?.” He reminded her, stepping in closer. Poor Tasha was now close to swooning.  He was not quite able to tell if she was still trembling at the mention of Randy boy, or if he still had that magic touch that tended to make girls pass out in the past.  Or make them go nuts, as Lisa liked to put it in reference to some of the women in his life who had been less than stable. Then again, he was a bit rusty in slaying females with a glance and a smile.  

“Michael…” The way she said his name was so cute and breathless. It was almost as if…

What? As if you’re still the mega superstar who brings the world -and people in general, male or female - to its knees? Yeah, right! Grow up, Mike. You’re lucky the girl even knows who you are. And who knows, maybe she just thinks you’re some odd business associate of Phillips. Chances are she neither cared nor was familiar with his music or his accomplishments.  Nothing more embarrassing than an aging star…Pretty soon he’d host some lame game show.  

Shuddering, Michael swallowed down the self inflicted bitter pill. Yeah, his heyday was over, but at least he was aware of it.. And while the shows had helped him to at least once again firmly believe that his fans still loved and adored him, he could not shake the feeling that they really longed for the Michael Jackson of years long gone by.  Someone who had died a very long time ago.  That he was some ghost without any contemporary relevance.  Which is why he wanted to change gears. Get into other ventures, break new frontiers.  Get out of the stage thing.  He no longer felt at home.  Every night was a chore.  Every night was filled with incredible fear.  He was able to get over and go on…and he was able to make it though the shows. His Dad had trained him well. 

‘Whatever you do, boy, the show must go on.” 

And so it had. Far beyond its expiration date.  Michael Jackson- the product, the legend.  Well, legends obviously go sour, too, if not preserved in the cool chill of death.  And had he been allowed to go stale in the oblivion of self imposed exile, maybe none would have noticed. Maybe he would not even have noticed himself.  But the stage lights were harsh, and granted no softening lens. True, some nights he was even able to forget for a moment or two that he had been forced to do this in the first place.  But then a muscle twitched or a part of his body spoke up to remind him of his actual age.  Fifty One.  Time to leave the stage life to those younger than him.  And time to enter another realm to rule over.  Oh, his mind was still active and plotting to forge a new path. But it was not on stage anymore.  If only he had never entered this damn deal.  If only there was a good way out… That immense weight of helpless captivity once again narrowed his airways.

“Mister Ja… I mean, Michael, are you alright?”  Tasha, looking now genuinely concerned, interrupted his usual ruminations.  

“Yes, I was just…I was wondering. You’re such a sweet young lady.  And yet you seem real stressed.”

“Well, this  work at time is a bit stressful. But it’s a great job.”  Her voice was flat- not convincing at all.

“I mean,” She must have noticed her lackluster performance and tried again, “It’s a good job…Mister Phillips is…ah…he is…” she continued with a hushed voice, having no doubt noticed his raised eyebrow, and having seemingly warmed up to his concern.

A what? Asshole? Slave driver?  Greedy devil, at best?

“Tasha…are you there with Michael?”  The crackling from the intercom interrupted what might have been some interesting insight into Phillips as a boss.

Tasha, looking as if she had gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar, went over to the table and pushed a button.  “Yes, Mister Phillips, he was asking how…”

“Michael.. I just have one quick meeting to finish up. I stepped out to find Tasha as she was supposed to link you in. I’d like you to listen to this business partner of mine. You’ll be real interested.”

“Randy, I’m real interested to know why you moved our meeting up. If you’d like me to join the meeting I could be there in person, maybe…”  Michael suggested, after taking a deep breath to calm his frustration.

“No. this one is kinda …ah…well..you’ll see. Anyway. Gimme a minute to get back in, then have Tasha turn the intercom over to conference room two. Well, the speaker anyway. So it’s one-way.”

Yeah, one-way. Like their relationship.  

“Randy, I really don’t see..” Michael attempted to reason once more.

“See you in a minute, okay?”  With that, and after rudely interrupting him for the second time, Randy was gone.

Michael turned to Tasha who looked thoroughly uncomfortable now. Well, maybe it was reassuring in a way that Phillips was an equal opportunity, rude fuckhead.  And he’d had it with this shit.

“I don’t think I’ll be sticking around.  This is just …bizarre.”

“Here…” Tasha swooped by him, reaching over to the intercom. “Let me just turn this on before he throws a fit.  And I get your tea. Please.” She looked at him pleadingly as if her life depended on him staying. Well, it would not surprise him if her job depended on it. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

She pushed a button and hurried out of the room.  

Fuck this! Michael was thoroughly tired of whatever little game Phillips had running.  HIs patience just hit the ‘empty’ mark and he had no intention of angling for a refuel.  

Static from the intercom made him turn his head toward the table. 

“Sorry, I just had to look for one of my little secretaries. Those girls are so flighty and never can follow instructions.”

Randy’s slimy voice oozed from the speaker loud and clear. He had no doubt rejoined this other meeting he for some reason wanted Michael to spy on.  Well, fuck the man. Whatever little scenario Michael was designated to be a pawn in, he had no intention of playing along. 

He turned and headed for the door Tasha had closed behind her.

Just as his hand reached for the handle, the voice coming through the speaker next made him freeze. Literally.  He felt as if a shot of ice straight to his veins had frozen him in place, slowing the flow of time to a bizarre film distorting every word, every sound. Later, when trying to look back on the events, trying to separate what he heard from what he felt, he often marveled at the frenzied speed of the thoughts and emotions occurring as they wrapped themselves like tentacles around the spoken poison seeping from the speaker.

“I don’t think executive assistants are called secretaries anymore. But you probably still call flight attendants stewardesses, too…. Either way. I’m done… I told you on the phone what I needed to take care of.  I really don’t know why you ordered me in here. And I’m tired of your bull, if I’m perfectly honest.”

That voice.  No. No way. It was not possible. The stress, the speaker…some trick.  Anything but the fact that the voice filing the room and his mind was the one he knew best in the world.

Lisa?

Lisa!

What the heck?  It couldn’t be Lisa.  Why would she be here? In Philipp’s office?  

Michael started to feel hot.  Dizzy.  Space around him seemed to change shape.  Boundaries of objects, the very room..they somehow bent.  He was trapped in a tunnel.  With that damn speaker at the center.

Confusion. Fear. Disbelief.  They all filled the air around him, making him fill his lungs with the conglomerate swirling around him, making him drown from the inside. 

What the fuck was Phillips up to now? Why was he involving Lisa at all?  Oh, God, if that man hurt Lisa, Michael would not be responsible for any action.  You could only provoke and poke an old, hurting animal so much before the panther broke loose and devoured the source of agony.  Lisa was off limits.  

His hands cramped into fists.  

Then, a moment of clarity slicing through.

Wait…Lisa said she had a business meeting earlier.  Business? With Phillips?

“I did not order you, Lisa. You misunderstood. I told you, our deal is about to change. You wanted everything kept from Michael.  But that might not be possible any longer. I was just made aware that our little arrangement is being made public as we speak, and I wanted to have a chance to talk to you before that.”

Michael jumped from the agonizing sound escaping his throat.  His breath escaped in gasps. 

Calm the fuck down! You gon go and faint. Then you’ll be good to no one. Not Lisa. Not yourself. Breathe…deeply… Come one…

Summoning every ounce of willpower, he managed to take one breath, filling his lungs, feeling his diaphragm expand before he expelled the air. 

Arrangement? What arrangement?  The breath must have worked.  The immobilizing shackles of confusion were replaced by the insane urgency to move, to act, to take control. Michael felt like dashing out of the room to find the aforementioned conference room..to make sure this was legit.  Or to prove that it was some sham, some trick. God knows he would not put it past Phillips to try and seriously fuck with him somehow. But if he left, he’d miss the gist of the conversation.  

No, don’t stay. Don’t trust that man. You know he’d fuck you over in a New York minute. Whatever is going on, you just ask Lisa. She’s the only one you can trust. You know that…. Leave. Now. Like you said: don’t be a pawn. 

Michael swallowed hard.  Yes, he should leave.  His head once again resumed atonal buzzing and whaling of his internal warning system going off.  

You can trust her?  Are you sure?  She lied before.  She got you under false pretense before.  She made promises…then hurt you.  Over and over..

No! No! That was all in the past.  They had started over… Had a new arrangement.  One built on lessons learned.  On trust.

“We don’t have an arrangement… We have an agreement.  And you’re dangerously close to breaking what we had discussed. This was about keeping things private.  About…”

Lisa’s voice was like a magic lasso, keeping him helplessly rooted in place.  Pulled by that force,  Michael turned and faced the table.  Took one tentative step toward the intercom, ignoring his inner voice, urging him to run for the hills.

“Lisa Marie. Whatever your reasons were when you came to me, let’s not forget this was also to your benefit.  I do value your investment in Michael’s shows…but I can’t have you making demands every five minutes.  At this point, we don’t really need your financial backing.  So…”

Philipps said something else, but the blood roaring in Michael’s ears drowned that out.  Investment?  What investment?  Financial backing?  Gain? What the fuck was going on here?  

Michael noticed pain in his hands. Looking down, he realized his hands were gripping the table. Hard.  The physical sensation forced the millions of thoughts and sensations to the side for a moment, allowing some clarity. 

This was some evil trick.  Lisa would never invest in Phillips devilish plan to force him to do these shows.  Any minute now, he’d hear her laugh in Randy’s face…calling him a liar.  Threatening to sue his ass.  

“Oh, please.  You really want me to pull out now? What? You’re gonna pay me back and risk your precious bottom line?  And what? Force Michael to work even longer for you?  You must think I’m some little idiot. Anyway…I’m not making demands every five minutes. You damn well know I’ve been trying to keep my distance. I’m not thrilled to be part of this. It makes me sick.”

Yeah, it made him sick, too. Part of what?  This didn’t sound good. Didn’t sound like she was about to call Phillips out for talking bullshit.  It sounded like she exactly knew what was going on.

Yeah, just like she knew she was taking birth control pills. Just like she knew she was going on vacation with Keough. Just like she knew she was fucking every Tom, Dick, and Nic while promising to be your wife again. Just like that! And you stupid sap trusted her again. 

No, no, no…. Not again. This was not happening again… There had to be another explanation. No jumping to conclusions. Not again. Last time he did that she had walked. 

“Oh please! Stop your protests, will you?  I bet it makes you sick all the way to the bank. You, Miss Presley, made a good investment and you had a very nice return. Nice, indeed. Don’t tell me you don’t like the money Jackson is making us. Making you.”

No! It had to stop! He could not think.  He needed the words rushing down on him to stop.  Without really realizing he had moved at all, Michael reached for the button on the intercom.  The escape hatch! 

Words flashed in his mind: In case of emergency, press here!

He did and was rewarded by some nasty little squeaking feedback noise that made him about jump out of his skin. 

“What the hell was this?  Are your recording this or something? You better not be fucking with me…”

Randy started to reply and then suddenly some crackling and more feedback drowned him out before the feed was gone.  

The speaker had been silenced.

The only sound left the gasping of Michael’s breath.  The attempt to take another deep breath earned him nothing but some agonized sob.  He felt like crying, his eyes and throat on fire.

Silence, as he drifted in the space of the the short period of time that had ripped him from his oxygen tank.  Gravity was gone.  Life as he had known it probably only minutes earlier was wiped out.

Maybe he should be grateful that the rain of toxic words had stopped.

If only the echoes reverberating in Michael’s head would do the same thing. Arrangement…  Investment…  Money…Return…

There you go… Now you are tracking.  Yeah..the only way to solve this puzzle is to put it all together.  All the pieces.  You can’t fear what will be revealed. Just look to what fits…which ends fits into what opening.

Some business deal had been discussed.  An investment…

Lisa was making money? Off his shows? This was not true.  No fucking way was any of this true.  

Why the fuck would Lisa need money? 

Maybe it was just a business deal.  Not like he had not made deals, stepping on the feet of friends.  Like Paul.  Paul had been miffed for years.  Not understanding that the catalogue was about business, not their friendship.  Or when Lisa had kirked out when she found out Michael owned Elvis songs.  Was that it?  Was she paying him back with her very own business deal?  

Michael ran both hands through his hair.  Sweat condensed on his forehead. No! His mind screamed the words… Or was that his actual voice he heard croaking out the word over and over…. NO! 

A deal? A business deal?  With that man?  With Phillips?  After everything Michael had told her?  Knowing how he had felt about having been harassed, abused…coerced?  Almost driven into an early grave.  His children orphaned?  

The stunned paralysis started to be tinted by rising anger like a bloody tide.  Michael felt his heart beating frantically in his chest. His head pounded like a time bomb about to go off.

Tasha came back into the room with his tea.

Michael jumped up, the chair that had been holding him up, flying to the ground behind him.

“Are you okay? You look …” the girl looked at him as if he was some unhinged lunatic. Not that he could blame her. Not like he even minded. 

“Where is Phillips? Where is this conference number two?”  Michael interrupted her, grabbing her free wrist. 

“Mister Jackson…. Michael…please sit down…here’s your tea.”  She pulled her arm away gently, and Michael let her go, his fingers almost going numb.  He fisted both hands to stop the feeling of ants running through his extremities. Damn…had he almost assaulted this poor girl? He really needed to get a serious grip.  If only he knew how! His hold on sanity was currently coated in oil.

“Tasha…” Michael tried his best to speak as calm as possible. “Now. Show me to this conference room. Now. It’s …essential. Please.”

Tasha started to say something, but then scanned his face.  She put the tea down.  Her head tilted and her large eyes regarded him with serious and sincere worry.  Where earlier she seemed mostly worried for her job, something had changed.  Not that Michael could afford to invest any mental resources into deciphering this girl’s state of mind. 

“Come on. I’ll take you there.”

He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens.

Tasha, with sudden determination, turned and walked out of the room. Michael took four steps.  Then froze. Sudden fear permeated his every cell.  Stunted his ability to move…to breathe.

Was he ready for this?  What would he find? What if it was not a trick?  What if he found Lisa…counting her thirty pieces of silver?

No, he just thought how much he trusted her.  How she would never betray him…

Never? Like she didn’t bail out of carrying your babies, which started all the misery with Deb? Like she didn’t file for divorce when she promised she wanted to work things out? Like she didn’t agree to want to start over and then dropped you cold? 

The nasty voice in his head kept enumerating every real or perceived betrayal over their long history.  And that was some doozy of a list, for sure. 

“Michael? Did you change your mind?” Tasha had turned and stopped.

“I…”  God, his throat was so damn raw.  “I…ah..can you show me the bathroom first?”

The bathroom? What ch’a gonna do, Mike? Hide out? Cry? Be the little baby Joseph always had accused you of being?

His shoulders squared.  His jaw tightened.  No. He simply needed one second to think this through.  Maybe cold water would help. 

Tasha showed him the way and Michael forged ahead, slamming the door behind him, locking it from the inside. 

His body was shaken once again by that deep sob.  Next thing he knew, he found himself hunched over the sink, cold water on, washing his face.  Good…at least his body knew what to do when a panic attack was about to strike.  And he didn’t even have his pills with him.  No, wait… Reaching into his pocket, Michael found the small pill container he carried around for emergencies.  Oh, hell yeah! This was an emergency if he ever had been in one. 

He took one pill and stared into the mirror at the pale stranger with huge, dark eyes regarding him.  Counting to ten, he waited for his heartbeat to slow down. 

Okay…there….you can do this.  Even if you feel like your guts have been ripped out again. By her…

A sharp pain raced through him. The knife carving out his heart. 

Another forced breath served to infuse his lungs with enough oxygen to keep the impending darkness at bay. For now…for the next moment. 

Maybe he should focus on the facts. There simply had to be a real explanation.  One that did not mean he was the biggest idiot on earth to be once again slammed down into the pits of hell after flying way too close to the sun. 

This morning…go back to this morning… Look for clues…The facts. Maybe it would help to start with those.

Lisa said she had a meeting. The meeting turned out to be with Phillips.  Phillips wanted him to know about it. Why?  He had said something about Lisa wanting to keep this quiet.  Phillips was not his friend- so why would he have some interest in educating Michael what his ex was up to?  No, Phillips didn’t do anything for anyone if it didn’t benefit him.  Demands. He had said Lisa was making demands. What demands?  More money? More power?  

The thought made bile rise in his throat and he almost hurled into the sink.  

Could it be? Could Lisa, who had made love to him all night, who had sworn her love to him, could that be the woman who would cash in on shows she knew he hated?

Sweat once again started to coat him with its chilling blanket.  Even as Michael started to feel cold, his hands tingled and burned.

Great. One pill was obviously not cutting it.  Reaching down, he popped one more Ativan, then put the box up before he knocked himself out. He needed to calm down, but he also needed to think. 

Once again he ran the events of the morning over in his mind. Once again, nothing after he entered Phillips’ board room made sense.

“Michael….are you okay?”  The worried voice was accompanied by continuous knocking which just now managed to push into his awareness.

Yeah, dumbass. How ‘bout you go with the girl and find out the truth from the source. 

But would Lisa give him the truth?  Obviously, if all this was true, she had lied to him for a while…how long?  How long had Lisa been playing him?

And the carousel of confusions, pain, anger, and frustration kept whirling him around, rendering the world a confusing collage of images and sounds.

Pulling himself together, Michael somehow made it out of the bathroom eventually. He pulled his shades back on after steadying himself.  Having the luxury of knowing his eyes would not reflect his current panic, he felt a bit calmer now. The chemical cotton balls had started to close in and make him feel a bit more protected as well.

Following Tasha into an elevator, he watched as the red numerals indicating the floor numbers came in and out of focus, seemingly glaring at him like angry dragon eyes.  

As the door opened Michael looked up, noticing the elevator across from him closing.  For a second he thought he caught a glimpse of Lisa in the cabin.  He closed his eyes, then opened them again quickly. Too late.  The cabin across from him had gone. Descending numerals- whoever it was was headed down. 

“Did you see that? Did you see a short little woman with big sun shades in that elevator?”  Michael asked Tasha who had stepped up behind him.

“What elevator? I’m sorry…I didn’t notice anything. Okay- you just follow that hall to the end and make a left- you will see conference room right in front of you.”

His little guide obviously had no intention of running into her boss. Not that he could blame her.

“Thanks, Tasha… I really appreciate you help.  Do you have something to write?”

Tasha handed him a pen, and he took out a piece of paper, scribbling his business number on it.  

“Here…in case you ever think of leaving Phillips.  I am sure we could find you a much better job at any of my companies.  One where you be treated with respect.”

Tasha beamed up at him. “Oh, gosh. Mister Jackson…Michael…wow…thank you so much! I…I don’t know what to say…”  

“It’s fine. Think about it. I think you should work for someone who will treat you like the wonderful young lady you are. Please call, okay?”

Tasha thanked him again and he gave her a little hug. The contact made him almost feel human again.  Then as he turned, all his mixed emotions returned and propelled him forward. 

Approaching conference room two, he thought he heard voices.  Without knocking, Michael pushed the door open.

Two heads turned toward him.  Two male heads. Randy and… Kenny? Why the hell was Kenny in LA? Jesus Christ! What was next? His mother making side deals stashed away in the closet?

“Where’s Lisa?” Scanning the room, there was no sight of her.  So…maybe he had been right and she was in the elevator. Or he was right the first time, when he had suspected Phillips was messing with him.

“Lisa Marie?” Kenny looked at him slightly odd. “Presley? Are you alright, Michael? You don’t look …alright.”

“Yes, Lisa Marie Presley. She was just here.  I heard her talking to Phillips…”

“Michael…” Kenny took a step toward him. His eyes worried.

“Kenny, don’t worry, he’s correct. Miss Presley just left the second before you arrived.  I’m surprised you didn’t run into her.  Hello, Michael. I figured you’d show up any minute now.”

The tone made it obvious Phillips had really wished he had been a bit quicker.  Again, alarm bells went off. Something was just not right… 

“I just bet you did.”  Michael spat out from between clenched teeth.

The room seemed to tilt and he reached for a nearby chair. 

“Michael. Sit down. What in the world is going on?” Kenny pulled a chair out and as Michael sank down in near exhaustion, he caught the exasperated look Kenny was shooting Phillips.

Yes, Michael has seen that one before. The look they gave each other when they thought he was fucked up.  When they didn’t know how they’d get him to twirl to their liking like the dancing bear on a chain.

“Hi Kenny. Not much. Randy here asked me for a meeting. Then called me to be here earlier. Then secluded me in some conference room, while he had me listen in on a very odd conversation with my wife…”

“Debbie?”  Kenny looked thoroughly lost.

“What?” Now Michael was lost.  Debbie better no be involved in this shit, as well. Even though, at this point, he would not be horribly surprised. Where there’s shit, there are flies. 

“The other one…” Phillips, oh so condescendingly, interjected.

“Oh….Lisa… So, Lisa was here with Randy? Is this about…” Kenny made a gesture toward Phillips.

Michael perked up. “Is this about what? What do you know about this?  Are you in on this deal, this arrangement about some investments in the show as well?”

Michael felt his blood pressure rise again. Man, if he survived this morning, he’d be doing good.

“Okay, why don’t we all sit down? Can I get anyone coffee, or tea..or something stronger? Michael, you do look…exasperated.”

He meant he looked a fucking mess. Any moment now he’d slap him again. To sober him up. Cause that’s always a good idea. Well, cool. Let him try. This time, the move might earn him a flight out of a very tall building.

“Exasperated? Yeah! You might say that. You tricked me into coming earlier- and then you tricked me to listen to something you obviously wanted me to hear.  Something about Lisa and you being in business.”

“He knows?” Kenny once again talked over his head and it was really starting to piss him off.

“He is right here! Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?  And I want to talk to Lisa Marie. I don’t trust anything coming out of your mouth, Phillips!” And right now, he really didn’t trust Kenny all that much, either.  Lisa…Lisa might have fucked him over in the past, but she had never been able to lie to his face. 

“Kenny, since Michael still seems to have some unfounded animosity toward me, why don’t you show him what you brought in.” Phillips sat down at the head of the long table, looking overall very pleased with himself. Yeah, something was funky for damn sure.

Kenny put something in front of him and Michael glanced down. The Enquirer? For real?

His eyes fell on the headline. 

Holy.

Shit!

Fuck!!!

“Mystery solved: A King of an Investment- Lisa Marie Presley revealed as silent business partner behind the This Is It shows of her ex. Could this be why the Princess of Graceland has been seen swarming around her ex as reported?  Was it all a business deal once again?”

The shitty little piece of an article went on to speculate that Michael had been under water and Lisa had stepped up and saved the day, earning herself a nice little return.  The antithesis of a pulitzer price contender closed by wondering if Lisa and Michael were once again putting on a pubic show to hide they were “using each other.” 

“Sources close to Lisa Marie confided she would never leave her husband and lovely twins to once again return to the unstable influence of her troubled ex. Lisa is smart, the source said. She knows Jackson is a sure thing money wise. But otherwise, she’s out of his life.”  A Jackson source admitted, “Michael is a sucker when it comes to Lisa Marie. He trusted her before and earned himself a rude awakening. He just doesn’t learn.”

Michael stared at the paper.  What had Phillips said earlier?  The little deal was about to become public knowledge?  Wasn’t that his reasoning for calling Lisa in? But why? It still made zero sense!  And who were those sources?  Well, one thing was pretty right on, he was a sucker when it came to Lisa.  And yes, rude awakening indeed. Except he felt as if he was caught in some nightmare…permanently. And now everyone knew.  Once again. Just like when Lisa filed for divorce…Making him look like an idiot after they had promised to try and work things out. 

Balling up the article, Michael threw it across the room. 

“Michael…please calm down.”

Calm down? Calm the fuck down? What? Because he had thrown a frigging piece of garbage?  Man! Phillips really should have been around before. Well…Kenny had been. So, maybe that explained his pale face. 

“I will calm down when I know what’s going on here. Cause right now….right now it looks like you somehow set up both Lisa and me.”  His words surprised him because the somehow rang true. They had escaped without deliberation.  Could it be? Could it all be some giant trap?  

“Set you up?  Michael, I wanted to fill you in.  I was the one feeling bad that you were on the outs of what was actually happening. I thought it was time you knew. But I also was very well aware of the fact that you would not listen to me.  Or that you might not believe me. So…I had to resort to some more creative means to get your attention.”

Attention? Was that what he wanted? Well, the son of a bitch had his attention now. 

“So you made me eavesdrop on a meeting? How do I know you’re not trying to somehow screw me over…using Lisa Marie.”

“Michael, why would Randy use Lisa Marie to hurt you?”  Kenny sounded as if he was talking to an unruly child. 

“Maybe to divide us? Not the first time that trick was used…”  Something in that statement also seemed to hit the bull’s eye. Finally he had stumbled onto a possible motive that seemed realistic. 

“Divide you? Michael, I have no interest in your private life. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the shows. And I felt that Lisa’s duplicity would at some point influence your work.  I could not carry her secret any longer.  And then I heard this article was about to hit the news circuit.  And I had to fill you in before you heard on the street and would …you know…overreact. I know you are…sensitive.”  The way he said that last world he might as well have said ‘psychotic.’  

“So, fill me in. Tell me your side of this ‘story.’” Taking a deep breath, Michael leaned back in his chair.  Okay, time to brace for a canon load of pure bull…

“Well…shortly after your…your ah…accident with Doctor Murray…I think you just woke up…Lisa  Marie called me.  She asked if the shows were still on and wanted to know if I was interested in her as a silent investor.  I didn’t initially think that was a good idea, given your…ah…history.  But she hinted at a sum of money I could quite frankly not pass up. Her condition was silence.  She was to be a silent partner, investing, and collecting her returns.  She talked me into it, stating it was a win-win for both of us.  So, hey, I went along, figuring you wouldn’t mind.  Not like you two seemed to hang out or anything. Then I noticed you guys started to become…friendly again. When I asked her - out of concern for you- what was up with that, she stated she could keep a better eye on her golden goose from the inside.”

Michael’s eyebrow shot up.  Dude…was into fairy tales? Interesting…

“Well…maybe she just wanted to make sure you were okay….or something,” Kenny interjected, obviously trying to soften the blow.

Phillip’s sneered, “Yes, or something.”

Michael’s hands balled into fists. 

“And you took her up on it…just like that. And now, now you decide to out her. How many months later? Why? Your conscience getting to you? ” Michael’s eyes narrowed, as he could not help but notice that Randy boy seemed downright giddy. Something was definitely not right here.  

Damn…this was so unreal.  Could this really be the truth?  And even so…he’d deal with Lisa later, but Phillips…he was a dangerous lunatic.  Why had he chosen this little set-up? What was in it for him? Other than the pure, unadulterated pleasure of blowing Michael’s world to smithereens.

“Michael…I told you. I got sources. And they filled me in that the crew at TMZ had gotten some heads-up on the deal with Lisa.  I knew you would be hurt..soo…”  He made a gesture as if the rest of the sentence was self-explanatory. Cause Randy was known for trying to prevent pain and suffering. Just like Saddam Hussein…and Hitler…

“Soooo… you knew I’d be hurt so you kindly set up a little trap and hurt me instead?”

“No…I wanted to soften the fall a bit. I had hoped you and Miss Presley would have a chance to talk it all out… Here. In a…” he looked over to Randy for vocabulary help.

Guess he had exceeded his daily allowance of grown up words.

“He thought it would be better if you guys would sort things out in a neutral and safe place.” Kenny chimed in.

“Safe….are you for real? Don’t you tell me, Kenny, you’re buying this…” Michael scoffed at the word “safe’ which should never be uttered in connection to Phillip’s name. That man was dangerous.  Cunning. And only out of his gain. But Kenny? He had thought Kenny was his friend. Even though Karen had let some things slip about the buildup to his near demise that left him wondering. But no…Kenny must have been under pressure as well. He had never done him wrong before…  A thought occurred and Michael brushed the hair out of his forehead in a frustrated gesture.

“Kenny…did you know what he had planned? Did you know…about….about Lisa Marie and her involvement? Am I the only idiot in the dark?”  

“Michael, no, you gotta believe me. Randy just told me recently.  I mean, I knew you and Lisa were….ahhh..seeing each other again, and were…friendly.  So…” he helplessly raised his hands, not knowing how to continue.

Michael brushed his hand over his eyes.  So? So, what? Was he the only one not catching on to the logic here?

“And you didn’t think this was odd? That maybe you should tell me? As my friend?”

Was it back to that again?  Was everyone out to betray him and make an fool out of him? 

“I thought maybe you knew…I just found out, MJ. For real…”

“How would I know?” Michael could not help but raise his voice much louder than normal. This was surreal.

“Well, I thought maybe it’s some sort of business deal or something.  Something you and Lisa had arranged… I mean…it makes sense for her to invest in the shows. There’s a solid return now.”

Oh God.  This was going in circles.  Kenny made it sound like that would be a great thing- the fact that Lisa somehow stuck her nose into his business. Literally, this time.

He was done with this. He had to leave.  Once again, he felt dizziness spread and cold sweat bathe him, making him shiver.  

Almost without thinking, he retrieved his cellphone.  Damn! Several missed calls as well as texts from Lisa.

• Call me. ASAP. I gotta talk 2 u NOW. URGENT!

23 minutes ago.  About the time she would have left…

• Don’t talk to any1 b4 calling me…urgent!

16 minutes ago

-Michael!!! NOW! Call!

14 minutes ago

Urgent, indeed. It sounded as if Lisa was trying to do some damage control.  

There was another missed call as well as a voicemail, which for a second made all other concerns secondary.  The call was from his mother.

“I’m sorry… I’m done here. I have to check in on my children.”  That was a half-truth, but whatever. Michael pushed the chair back.  He felt as if the floor was moving when he unsteadily stepped away from the table.  God…he was in quite a state! Was the medication wearing off already? 

“Michael, will you be okay?” Kenny asked, reaching for his shoulder. Michael shrugged the hand off.  

“Make sure you get checked out of you don’t feel well. Remember you’re back on stage in one week.”

Yeah, the show must go on.  That’s all that counted. Couldn’t let the investors down, after all.  

Michael rolled his eyes and turned to head out.  He was so done with this so called meeting!

“Oh Michael… I really hope this wont’ interfere with your schedule.  Or you…ah…health.”

Motherf…! Like he gives a damn about your health. As a matter of fact, if he could force feed you meds to make you shut up and perform in top form, he would. Pretentious ass!

Michael really hoped the earth would finally open up and take Phillips to his deserved resting place- in hell. He somehow resisted the flip Phillips off and made it out of that poisonous room.

On the way to the bathroom, a million things raced through his head.  Lisa…Randy….the papers…the so called sources… Who had leaked the whole damn thing? Bad enough Lisa had gone behind his back. Betrayed him…for money… Taken advantage of him just like everyone else. But now everyone knew once again that he was nothing but a sorry loser. Couldn’t even keep his woman without paying her.  What had the article said?  She would never leave her stable marriage?  What it hadn’t spelled out was that she would never leave her marriage and chldren for him… A washed up has-been.  Blast from the past.  The freak. The loner.  The man she could not bring herself to have children with… Damn, who knew all those old wounds could be ripped open in one clean sweep?

Walking, Michael texted with shaking fingers. 

-Just talked 2 RP…

The reply came right away.

-Call me. Now. Pls don’t do it…don’t let him fuck w u

• Dont think hes the 1 fucking w me…or hes not alone.

The phone rang, almost making him drop it.

Lisa.

Michael declined the call.

-Answer the phone, dammit…

-Gotta call mother

The text sat there for a moment.

Michael looked up at Michael Amir, who had stepped up to meet him. 

“Are we ready to go, MJ?”  Great. Another one shooting him “the look.” Fortunately, Michael had very little of his reserve energy to waste on wondering just how fucked up he looked at the present moment. 

“Ah….yeah…sure…” Michael replied, almost in a daze. “I just…just gotta call my mother before we get out and it gets noisy.”

The phone buzzed with an incoming text.

• U do that. Call ur mother. Then call me. I meet u @ at the house

The house.  The house he just left…what seemed like another lifetime ago.  He did not recognize the shadow of the man who left this morning. The man full of hope. Full of love. Full of dreams.  What a fucking fool.  Meet her at the house?  Her house? Well, he had to think about that.  He really did not know if he was ready to face her. Especially on her turf. Despite all the millions of questions driving him crazy.

Taking in another breath to steady his frail nerves, Michael dialed his mother, who, in a quite surprised voice, assured him she was just fine.   Her next question revealed that obviously, Lisa had beaten him to the punch and had once again, as so often in the past, enlisted his mother to do her dirty work.

“Have you spoken to Lisa Marie?”

“Why?”  Slightly annoyed about the mere fact that the most important women in his life seemed to stick together, despite any biological bonds, he motioned to his team that they could walk outside. He was more than ready to get the hell out of this place. 

“Michael, you know I don’t like when you answer questions with a question.  I was just wondering….”

Yeah, she was just wondering, indeed.  He had this own things to wonder about right now. 

“Did Lisa call you?” His voice was as controlled as he could possibly master, and yet he was aware his mother was likely not fooled.

A small pause.  Oh yeah, telling, indeed. Women! Why in the world would Lisa involve his mother if she was not worried he’d lose it?  Especially knowing he hated when she went behind his back and tried to undermine him.  Well, of course….why stop now?  Seeing she obviously had been using his back as a target for the knives of her deception for quite a long time.

“Yes, yes, she did.” Came the bland answer.  

Jeeze, mother, please don’t provide any unnecessary details!  Not like I’m not dying here. 

“And….?”

“Have you spoken to her?”

While hating when he answered questions with questions, mother obviously was less averse to using the same tactic.

Thus, this conversation was going in circles. Time for a small white lie. Well, actually it was more of a liberal interpretation of the word “to speak,” which, in these times, surely included texting.

“Yes, I did.” He cleared his throat and hoped the nonverbal cue would not reveal his lie.

“Michael, please make sure you do not jump to conclusions.”

So, there were conclusions to draw.  Dammit! 

“I’m not.”

No need to jump. It seemed he was pushed toward the obvious conclusions quite easily.

“She just meant to help you.”

Oh, perfect! This was not what he wanted to hear. He had hoped he’d be informed of how Lisa was tricked and how Phillips had lied to both of them. His heart sank.  

“Uhum….”  His throat was way too dry for anything else.

“Michael, she was worried and she was afraid they would kill you…so she needed to help. Wanted to help.”  

She needed to help…. Which was it? Needed or wanted? Made quite a difference. 

Heaven protect him from people wanting to help him. Usually, they were simply aiming to help themselves.  To his money. Or whatever else he had they wanted. 

Michael closed his eyes.  He had just taken his seat inside the SUV and the car was driving off, some fans calling his name, as he automatically waved.  Mother’s words made little to no sense. All he heard was the dreaded confirmation of what he had feared to be true.  Lisa had indeed entered into some nefarious deal with the devil and was now trying to justify her betrayal with some half assed lies.

How could this be happening again?  Betrayed…flogged, displayed, hung out to dry by people he had trusted implicitly.  A flood of emotions he thought to have conquered a long time ago rushed over his head.  Refuge turned into persecution.  Perceived innocence throw off its mask to be revealed as corruption.  And he would have thought to be numb to this shit by now. Inoculated by the true corrupt nature of humans. And yet, yet he had dared to trust once again. Fucking idiot that he was! 

“Michael…Son, are you listening to me?”  

No….he had not been.  Somewhere on the other side of the fog, he had been semi-aware of his mother’s words, of her voice, but he had zero tolerance for having more lies and justifications tossed his way like unpinned hand grenades. There was something perverse that the voice that always meant soothing comfort now made him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“Mother…the reception is really bad out here…I call you later. I’ll get the kids in a bit, I have to run some errands first…”

“Please…don’t get all pigheaded again. Go see Lisa Marie. Talk to her…”

Oh, he planned to talk to her alright! 

Giving the driver instructions to change the plan of heading straight to Hayvenhurst, he started at his phone, half expecting to see more texts rush in as Lisa, no doubt, worked on her defense strategy.

What had mother said?  Lisa had been worried?  Worried about what, exactly?  That he was going on with life without her?  That he had a viable future, despite having just about died?  This was so horribly reminiscent of their past. Lisa, not being content to be out, but also not wanting to be in his life.  Her tough talk coupled with her inability to let go. Once he had thought it was sweet she could not totally leave him behind. Or at least not any more than he was able to sever all ties.  Lisa was never quite content to be on the sidelines…not when she felt it had not been her choice anyway.  So, she kept reeling him in…kept having him hang on…until she was the one in the driver’s seat.  When he needed her, when he had begged her…that was the moment she had chosen to kick his teeth in.  So was that it?  Another repeat performance?  

He had dared to almost die- which was clearly an act outside her control. And she had stepped back in. Desperate for control.  Using her sexuality while benefitting financially.  

Michael pressed against the bridge of his nose with two fingers, desperate for relief from the pounding in his temples.  The mounting pressure and stabbing agony made thinking in any organized fashion nearly impossible.

Financial benefit….

That was the one stumbling block.

Lisa did not need his money. Never had.  

Then why…why in the world….

Michael felt like crying.  Swallowing the tears became a chore. His throat was on fire.

Desperately fighting for control, he reached for his phone and dialed.  Nothing. Voicemail.

Dammit! And how ironical that the first person he’d reach out to in a panic was the one who obviously had lit the fuse to the powder keg. 

Instead of giving into the temptation to throw his phone, he gripped it harder.

Almost as if he wished it to happen, the phone rang. The wrong name appeared on the display.  PIA. Which was not a name but stood for pain in the ass: Deb.  Oh hell no! Declining the call granted him little relief, as it almost immediately rang again. Declining again, he was tempted to turn the phone off. A text came in:

-Answer the phone, before I fill our daughter in on the newest mess your princess made. As this will no doubt affect her. You better not have  changed your number again…

Well, obviously, he had not been quick enough this time. How had Deb gotten his number? Not like she had bothered to call it when she had kidnapped the children in Vegas and almost forgotten to return them… Their daughter?  Paris was not their daughter. She was his! When would that woman ever comprehend that? All his anger funneled toward a very deserving target. 

“What” He answered her next attack at the first ring.

“What do you mean, what? Did you see the papers?”

“I wouldn’t call them that.”

“Whatever. Did you see what she did this time?”

There was little doubt whom Deb was referring to.  God, leave it to her to pounce on the first opportunity to discredit Lisa.

What was it she had said in Vegas?

“I’d be more worried about certain secrets.  Thankfully, I don’t have to do a damn thing… I’ll just watch as you hang yourself in all your lies.”

““Fine. Have it your way. You’ll never learn.  I came here to warn you.  But no- you figure it all out yourself.”

A huge light bulb came on. No, exploded.

“You did this! You leaked this shit! Just like you leaked the crap about Lisa and me playing house with her children as that rag termed it. Do you have any idea what damage you caused there?”  

Lisa had flipped her shit when she had seen the headlines. And then her husband had basically forced her to fly back. Guess the man couldn’t hide behind his blinders any longer. Not that he didn’t want Lockwood to know. But hey, he had to admit reading about your woman shacking up with her ex with your children would be a bitter pill to swallow. Bitter enough to destroy a studio. Bitter enough to …maybe be the “Presley source” referred to in that article? On the other hand, that was more Priscilla’s style.  Obviously, Lockwood opted for trying to get revenge in more open ways. Unless….unless it was all a lie. Some game they were playing. Pretending… But would that man do that? Would he whore out his wife like that….for what?  Money?  Again, that part made zero sense. Then again, not much did at the current point in time. 

“Don’t be ridiculous! And stop blaming me every time your little precious liar fucks up. I told you she’d do it again. She’d get you to fuck her and fuck you over. But you never listen.  She gets what she wants then runs off.”

“How did you know?” He’d ignore her rudeness for now. No sense calling on sensibilities he knew by now she did not exist.

“Know what? That Lisa only tries to use you as her willing bootie call? That she never, ever had planned to leave her family?  Have children with you?  Oh come on…”

“Cut it out. How did you now what the papers said?” He could not even put it in words. Speaking it aloud would make it reality. 

Plus, he couldn’t let Deb distract him.  She had done that before.  Pointed out how Lisa was giving it out to other men, how she couldn't  be trusted… She had fed and nurtured his doubts. And he had let her.  No, not this time. He wasn’t going to let trample what he had planted.  And he certainly wasn’t going to let her off the hook. Especially, when he did not for one minute believe she was innocent in any of this. If there was crap- Deb usually supplied the bull.  She was savvy as shit working her low life connections.

“Me? I didn’t know anything. I suspected. Cause I know her. I just heard murmurs. And you know the saying, where there’s smoke there’s Lisa Marie who set a fire…”

“You think this is funny, Deb? You think anything in those garbage rags about me is funny? Since you delight in letting my daughter use the internet, have you thought for one second how this would affect her? Given you pretend you care for her suddenly.”

“Oh, please! You don’t think you playing house with another woman’s children affects her more than some news about a business deal she doesn’t understand yet?”

“I’m done. My lawyer will contact you.”  Her running her mouth to the tabloids had to be proof she was not a fit “parent.” Maybe he could get the current restrictions lifted. 

“Michael, listen, we don’t have to do this. This doesn’t have to drive a wedge between is. I am on your side…I..”

He hung up the phone.  Drive a wedge between them? You’d have to be close for that.  He had not been close to her in years.  Not since she was the one ripping his blinders off after years of defending her.  Years of calling Lisa paranoid.  Years of thinking she was a selfless, wonderful angel sent from God to grant him his biggest wish.  That selfish demon!  Even having to talk to her still was almost physically painful. The only reason he had answered was to get confirmation of his suspicions. And despite her denials he knew he had been right on the money. So much for the “source in the Jackson camp.” 

Evidence was mounting that something was not right.  If only his rational, razor sharp business like thinking was not utterly clouded by the pain of betrayal.  That there had to be another angle to all this. If Deb was involved, Randy…money.  All those things on one side of the equation, and Lisa on the other.  Lisa… How had he been so wrong?  Was he really not seeing what was right in front of him? That she would never love him enough to not meddle? Or maybe she was still somehow punishing him for hurting her…all those years back. Well, if that was it, I considered the score more than even now. 

Michael felt like screaming! His cramped mind was going round and round in circles like a dirty rag trying to wipe clean a muddy window, only succeeding in changing the pattern of smears, but being helpless to reveal any meaningful vision.

As the entered through the Hidden Hills gates, he closed his eyes, then wished he hadn’t as scenes from the previous night and this morning swept across his visual field.  This morning… Only hour ago.  Hard to fathom how he had somehow been tossed into this pit of doubt and pain in such a short span of time.  God…he had allowed himself to feel that all consuming love once again.  Hope.  The urge to laugh and cry took his breath.  Yeah, hope..once again.  Too familiar a dish to be served all over again. Had he not resolved a long time ago to never allow the glimmer of hope to disrupt the somber wasteland of his existence?  

For some reason he was tested over and over again- only to fail each and every time. Tempted by love, by hope, by Lisa.  His punishment.  She had been a married woman… at first, and then again. Fate had chosen to replay their tragedy and once again he had believed them to be above conventional rules.  Maybe she was meant to be with Lockwood. Maybe he was her fate.  Would serve her right anyway.  

There was a twinge of guilt when he thought of the twins, too.  Maybe he had been fooling himself. Playing house. Pretending it did not matter that somehow Lisa and he had not managed to have children together.  Maybe that’s what it was really about. Maybe God wanted the adorable twins to be with their parents.  Maybe he had tempted all forces of divine rules and moral rules when he had stepped into Ben and Riley’s lives. Sure, he had loved Lisa and had believed with all his heart they belonged together.  And still…there had been guilt on Lisa’s part.  Guilt that angered him…maybe because deep down he knew it had been wrong to go after a married woman. Even though she was married to that fool that was all wrong for her and had made her miserable. Not like he had done so much better. Lisa often had told him no one had ever made her more miserable.  Her love for him had almost killed her. And had killed him in a different way.  Maybe Michael and Lisa were indeed some devilish concoction and all their willful plans always ended in disaster because they were simply not meant to be. Maybe it was time to accept that and move on…

The mere thought made him nauseous. Imagining himself alone again made him feel adrift. 

Why?  Why did he have to suffer? Why could he not love someone and be loved? Why, with all his accomplishments could he not master this seemingly normal task? Why had he never been granted more than a fleeting moment of happiness before the next disaster? 

Or maybe all those questions and all that doubt were the answer.  Maybe it was about acceptance.  Part of the test. Part of the solution.  The true task at hand.  He really, truly sucked at acceptance. Always had.  The truth might lie in his failure to practice humility and acceptance on a grander scale.  Failure to accept and become complacent had led to his greatest successes in the business. And yet…personal fulfillment remained elusive. 

The car stopped and he sat in silence for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts and calm his inner turmoil.  Yeah, fat chance! 

Not bothering to ring the doorbell of the house that had once been his home, he walked in, being met by Ben.

“Hey…the doorman called up.  Good to see you again.”

Something was up with the way Ben said that.  Something was off.  This morning, they had engaged in some light teasing after Michael had emerged from the bedroom and found Ben in the kitchen, eyeing him with a cheeky grin from above his cereal bowl. 

“Sleepover, Michael?” 

That was the official story in the old days. And no doubt, the kids had since put together why Michael loved his sleepovers at the house.  Or theirs and their mother’s at Neverland. It had been a playful, easy exchange. Now, now Ben seemed tense and apprehensive.

Michael hugged Ben, looking around. 

“She’s in the studio…” Ben, reading Michael’s searching eyes correctly, looked as if he was about to say something else.

“Thanks… I guess…..I guess I’ll go and say hi…”

“Michael?  She’s…ah….”

What pissed? Angry? Freaked out? Worried? 

Michael cocked his head, expecting everything, but the next statement.

“She’s…not alone.”

Michael froze.  External ice. Internal…meltdown. 

The way Ben stated that fact caused an internal reactor to blow his universe to hell.  Too much.  His limit was finally reached. He could only take so much. He’d been triggered left and right and somehow had kept things together, and yet that one statement turned everything to volcanic red.  Shards of exploding memories stabbed his heart. 

There had been a time when Michael had stormed into this very house, and he had been informed of the same fact. They had fought the days before. Lisa once again had accused him of using her, of stringing her along. Of not wanting to commit.  Of using her as a mattress, as she had put it. There had been a passionate interlude, then days without contact.  As always, all their anger, disappointment, rage, pain, desire, and love had ignited a firestorm.  After it was done, after they slowly were reassembled from stardust into their human forms, Lisa, crying, had asked him to leave. Talk about a cold shower! 

“Lisa, don’t do this. Let me stay..please.”

“That’s it though, don’t you get it? You never stay.  You always leave. It hurts, it kills me…I can’t Michael.”

“Why can’t you trust me?”

“Because you can’t help it. You promise and you make me hope… And maybe you even mean every piece of bull.”

Angry and pissed off, he had stormed off.  And kept his distance. Angry at first, feeling justified and hurt. Until he mulled things over, trying to see her side. And what he had seen wasn’t all that pretty. 

Finally, Michael had swallowed his pride and had driven out to see her, to make her understand that he loved her.  That he would make it work. That he’d work harder at overcoming whatever was holding him back.

Of course, that plan had been stopped cold when Ben, while considerably younger, had uttered those words: She’s not alone.  Michael had stormed upstairs and found Cage with his hands on Lisa, holding her against him, her ass pressing into him as he kissed he neck, Lisa laughing.  

That day, Michael had simply thrown the door shut and had stormed off, Lisa trailing behind him, asking him to wait.  Wait for what? More humiliation?  Let her have that clown! Her ass would be back soon enough. And she had been…eventually. Still, it always irritated him that he had not stood his ground. Had not kicked the ape out on his ass.  Maybe that would have stopped that insane, petulant farce of a marriage. Maybe they could have worked things out. Maybe, he would not have entered into the whole deal with Bashir…maybe…

No, he really had to stop himself. That road was well travelled and never led to anywhere but hell. 

Bad enough he was seeing pure red.  Lisa was not alone. Which could only mean Lockwood was here. What? Was he back, ready to end the farce?  Was he back to take his rightful place after the business deal had been revealed?  Maybe the whole story about Lockwood and the studio had been a lie….maybe…

Mike! Man! Get a grip! Riley had called you, remember? She would never lie to him. Not about that. Maybe you wanna get that paranoia in check before you seriously kirk out. 

Some remnant part of his brain not totally hijacked by his overactive emotions also chimed in reminding him that Lisa seriously was too much of a straight shooter to put on some elaborate drama to dupe him.  For what?  Cause she couldn’t get laid otherwise?  

Well, that was the odd part. He had stopped doubting her attraction to him a long time ago; knew that sexually she was totally into him.  Or had been anyway. Maybe things had changed. He had gotten older. Thinner.  

You really gotta get a grip…

Right after he told that ridiculous Big Bird Impersonator to take a fucking, flying leap. 

Before he knew how in the world he had bridged the span from the salon to the studio, Michael kicked the door open.  The resulting pain in his foot didn't to anything but piss him off more.  

Not for the first time today, everything seemed to happen at once. Lisa was there, alright. As was the Scarecrow. With his hands on Lisa, seemingly trying to pull her close.  They both had turned to face him, Lisa’s eyes showing she had cried.  

“Jackson, look, I’m…”

Those words were all Lockwood could muster before Michael had crossed the space between them.  When his fist connected with the considerably taller man, his own surprise rang louder than the pain in his hand, or Lisa’s voice, screaming.  Asking him to stop.

When really- the point for stopping had been passed a while ago.  Oh hell, no. He was just getting started.

(To be continued).

©2014 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.