FicWad

The next few days continued as normal with one exception; Dave had gotten a dog. Don't ask me why, but for some reason, once the show at the club was done the other night, Dave had gone outside for a smoke and had found a stray puppy. Without telling any of us, Dave had sneaked the dog into the back of the truck. Nobody realized the dog was occupying our space until the next day when we were on the highway. I had been the last one to notice because I had gotten really sick.

I'm not sure where my sickness had come from. Ever since the night James and I had spent together at the club, I had been feeling miserable. I had terrible stomach pains, stomach bloating, and I ended up vomiting ever once in a while when I couldn't keep my food down. In addition to all of that, I felt completely exhausted and my body felt sore and tender all over. The worst part was that nobody had any pain reliever, so I was forced to deal with my misery by sitting in my usual corner.

A loud commotion at the other end of the truck finally caught my attention after a few minutes. Turning an agonized gaze towards the opposite side of the truck, I could see James and Lars yelling at Dave loudly. Cliff was watching the argument attentively, but wasn't saying a thing. From what I could tell, Dave must've done something really bad because Lars was screeching at the top of his lungs and James was red-faced and angry looking as he paced back and forth.

I was just about to get up and figure out what was going on, when Lars called up to the truck driver, "Can you stop a minute? Sorry for the short notice, but we've got a fucking emergency going on right now!" The truck driver obeyed Lars' commands, and a moment later, we were parked by the side of the road. Now that the truck was steady, I managed to get weakly to my knees to see what was going on. The back entrance to the truck had opened up and all the guys were already outside. With legs that felt like jelly underneath me, I walked to the other side of the truck to see what the guys were up to.

As I peeked outside, I saw the four guys standing by a little dog. The dog was urinating by the side of the road and Lars was giving Dave a loud lecture. Still not quite sure what was going on and why there was a dog with us, I raised an eyebrow at the group and asked, "Hey guys, what's up? Where did that dog come from?"

Before anyone could answer, the dog ran out of the grass and jumped up at the side of the truck, scrapping a strip of blue paint of the sides of the U-Haul. James angrily kicked the dog away from the truck and turned on Dave, "Your fucking dog just ruined part of the fucking trunk and you're going to have pay the fucking bill."

Dave, who had been pretty silent up until this point, finally couldn't contain his anger any longer. He exploded like an erupting volcano and tackled an unsuspecting James to the ground. Without any warning whatsoever, Dave started punching ever inch of James that he could. James, trying to fight for his own life, tried to push Dave off of him, but Dave wouldn't budge. Wanting to do something to help my lover, I jumped down from the side of the truck and started towards the two guys rolling around on the ground. Unfortunately, jumping off the truck was a very bad idea. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I began swaying dizzily and a putrid taste filled my mouth. Before I knew it, I was puking up all of lunch.

In the meantime, Lars had managed to separate James and Dave and was holding them back from each other with a hand on each guy's chest. Looking warily between the two, Lars said, "Dave, that was really uncalled for. You can't just go and attack your fellow band members like that. It was your own choice to hide a dog in the truck from us. That was a stupid mistake. None of that is James' fault; it's completely your fault. And even if it wasn't your fault, attacking your friends is just not acceptable."

Dave nodded, but his eyes were still focused on James with a look of ferocity. Noticing Dave's expression, Lars suggested, "Okay, why don't we all take a walk for a bit to calm down? James, you and Cliff can come with me. Dave, take a walk somewhere by yourself to calm down. We all need to let our emotions flow out of us in a non-aggressive way."

"Can I just hang out in the truck will you guys take a walk?" Dave asked. I was immediately surprised by the way his voice changed tone. His loud, brash manner had suddenly becoming simpering and polite. He must be up to something. Lars seemed to notice the change as well. He tilted his head back to look at Dave, and after a few moments, replied, "Yeah, I guess so. I don't see any problem with that. However, do not touch the beer, Dave! I know how many are in the truck and if some are missing, I'll know you've been drinking, so don't you dare try to get yourself drunk!"

Dave nodded lazily and waved as the other three band members started down the street. Once they were out of sight, Dave turned to me. I was sitting on the ground with my head on my knees in a miserable condition. My belly was sore and my breasts were tender. Evening sitting still was painful to me. When I felt a light hand on my shoulder, I looked up to see Dave. Dave smiled kindly at me and offered me a hand, "Hey, you need help getting up? We should probably get back in the truck. It'll be a lot cooler in there. I think we're gonna end up roasting to death if we stay out here for too long."

I had been so distracted by my physical pain that I hadn't even bothered to see what the weather was like. Now looking around, I felt the hot sun beat down on my back and beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Deciding that Dave was right and that it probably would be a good idea to get back into the truck, I slowly stood up after taking Dave's hand. Dave helped haul me to my feet and gently set me back into the truck. Once I had scurried back to sulk in my usual corner, Dave popped into the truck as well and shut the back door to it behind him, leaving us in darkness.

"Oh god," I complained as my stomach lurched around inside of me. Turning to Dave, I asked, "Do you have any sort of painkiller at all? I feel so fucking terrible." Dave looked around for a moment and scratched his head. After digging through his suitcase, Dave came back to me with a sad expression on his face, "Sorry, Olivia, there's nothing that would work as a painkiller here. I do have a different solution though. Here, drink this." Dave handed me a clear bottle.

I took the bottle from Dave hesitantly and looked over it to try to figure out what it was. Something like this from Dave quickly made me suspicious. There wasn't a label on the bottle so there was no way for me to figure out what it was. However, I felt so bad at the moment that I was pretty much willing to do anything in an attempt to feel better.

"What is this stuff, Dave?" I asked, pulling the top off of the bottle and taking a swig of the clear liquid. It felt like fire as it washed down my throat and momentarily distracted me from my stomach pain. Dave smiled at me and said, "It's vodka. It'll numb your pain a little. You should drink some more of it." Deciding that the vodka was pretty harmless and that Dave wasn't trying to poison me or anything like that, I took another sip...and another...and another. Before I knew it, the whole vodka bottle was empty.

Once I was finished with it, I set the bottle aside and smiled up at Dave. He was right; the pain was indeed gone from my stomach. Instead, I felt very light-headed. Wanting to keep feeling this way, I looked over at Dave and said, "Do you have any more of this stuff? It works like magic. I could really use another bottle right now."

Apparently glad to be helping me, Dave nodded and grabbed another bottle from out of his bag. I eagerly pulled the top off of the bottle and downed it even quicker than I had downed the first bottle. After my second bottle, I asked Dave for a third. Once I was about a quarter of the way done with my third bottle though, I started to not feel so good. I started feeling woozy and I started seeing things in distorted sizes. Feeling like shit, I set the bottle down and flopped onto my stomach.

As I started moaning and groaning, Dave came over to lean besides me. He gently took my shoulder and flipped me on my back. Dave's face swam back in forth in front of my eyes. Nothing was clear at all. Looking at me in feigned concern, Dave said, "Olivia, are you okay? You look terrible!" My only response to Dave's question was a painful grunt.

"God, Olivia, I had no idea that the vodka would make you feel this bad. It was suppose to help," Dave told me in a genuine voice. I was much too miserable to really focus on what Dave was saying. All I could concentrate on was the fact that I felt someone was trying to split my belly apart with the tip of a very sharp knife. Unfortunately, Dave decided to keep talking to me, "I'm so sorry! I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better. Tell me, what kinds of things make you feel better?"

I hadn't really been listening to Dave's questions, but I caught the last one. After gasping from a sharp pang in my lower belly, I looked up at Dave and answered his question in a few words, "James makes me feel better." Dave nodded as if this was the answer he had suspected that was what I would say. Suddenly, I wanted James by my side. In a weak voice, I managed out, "Where is James anyways? I want him. Now. Can you bring him to me?"

Dave gave me a sorry smile and shook his head, "I would bring him to you, but he's off on a walk with Lars and the others. Don't you remember?" My memory had seemed to suddenly have gone blank and I couldn't remember that. I shook my head and inhaled sharply as my stomach seemed to tightened into a knot within me. Dave kept speaking, "Hm. This is a rather unfortunate situation. Tell me, what about James makes you feel better? There's got to be something special about him, right?"

Normally, I would've been wondering why Dave was asking me this kind of thing, but right now, I was feeling much too terrible to care. Instead, I just answered his questions like a servant answering to a master, "James is special. He's the most caring and loving guy that I've ever met. He saved me when I could've died. I owe my life to him."

"I see," Dave nodded along. Suddenly, he bent his head down close to mine and asked, "Do you like the way James makes love to you?" Again, normally I would've been really suspicious of this question and probably wouldn't have answered it. However, just like before, I just answered the question without thinking, "Well, yeah. Of course I do. Why wouldn't I? I love James."

Dave sighed and I thought I might have glimpsed something that looked like sadness in his eyes. The sadness quickly was masked up though and Dave returned to his concerned expression. Reaching down to sweep my soaked hair off my sweaty forehead, Dave asked, "Are you willing to do anything to make yourself feel better?"

Hell yes! I felt so terrible right now that I felt that I'd rather die than go through this pain. After another sensation of something splitting my stomach open, I replied breathlessly, "Yeah, I'd do anything. I just want the pain to go away." Dave continued stroking the hair back from my face and said in a softer voice, "Can you pretend I'm James?"

Even though I felt like I was dying, I really should have been able to tell that Dave was up to something by now. However, I was just as naive as ever. Looking up at Dave with trusting eyes, I shrugged and nodded, "Um, I guess I could temporarily." At my sentence, Dave's face split into a nasty smile. It was a smile that chilled me to the bone and started making me regret my last words.

"Are you hot?" Dave asked me curiously, fingering the straps of the tank top I was wearing. I took a minute to think about Dave's question. It was indeed hot in here and I was sweating like nuts. I nodded briefly in response to Dave's question. That was all Dave needed. In an instant, he had grabbed something silver from the suitcase lying next to him. I peered over to see what it was, but my vision was too blurred too see it. I only saw it once it was inches from my face; it was a sharp, silver knife. With that same sadistic smile on his face from before, Dave slipped the knife down the side of my tank top and ripped it off, leaving me shirtless.