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  • Always Rocking: A Heavy Metal Romance (Slava Pasha series Book 4) Page 2

Always Rocking: A Heavy Metal Romance (Slava Pasha series Book 4) Read online

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  I rolled onto my back slinging my arm over my face. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a father or husband. The whole situation felt hopeless. I felt like a walking vagina. How have I gone from a kick ass rocker that was getting a new piece of ass every night to a sniveling vag lying in bed moping because I didn’t have my own baby?

  I had reached a new low. I was lying in bed brooding like my biological clock was ticking. I had definitely been trapped in this estrogen factory for far too long. I needed to get out of the house. I needed to escape.

  I looked at my watch. It was just after ten in the morning. I could get down to the studio and lay down some beats. While the guys had been lounging during our yearlong break, I had been writing beats for some local kids trying to break into the music industry. It was my way of giving back to the community and it also kept me from dying of boredom.

  We had purchased a fully equipped studio downtown to use while we were home. Katinka did all of her work there before coming out on tour with us. We had always given our time to coach new musicians as well as free studio time for those that were unable to afford it.

  The community had been so supportive of us when we were growing up. It had been one of our greatest joys, being able to help others follow their dreams. I had an all-girl pop group that I had been helping lay down some tracks. They were just teenagers but they had amazing depth and range. I could definitely see them taking off in the near future.

  Helping others advance their musical career was as rewarding as carving our own path in the business. It also helped to stay in the loop, keeping current with the trends and demands of the audience. We never changed our music to suit others but it was always helpful to know what the current trend was.

  I decided to give up on my sulking and get some work done. It took me no time to throw on some shoes and drive down to the studio. The house had been quiet. Everyone seemed to be taking naps since the babies were sleeping. Rule number one when living in a house full of babies, you sleep when they sleep.

  Ivan had been disappearing a lot lately. Tosha, Nik, and Damon had been too busy to notice, but I hadn’t. I noticed his late hours and weeks of absence. I noticed the hop in his step and the smile that never seemed to leave his face. I noticed it all and I had to admit, I was jealous that everyone around me seemed to be happy except me. I guess that made me a miserable old bastard.

  Chapter 2

  “Kiev, I’m just telling you, it’s time you found a wife. You are getting up in age and I hate to see you alone.” My mother not so gently encouraged as she buzzed around the kitchen preparing dinner.

  After spending the day in the studio I had decided to come by my parent’s house. I needed a break from the estrogen factory and this was the first place I had thought to come. Now I was sorely regretting it.

  “What about those girls I heard in the background at the studio while we were on the phone? Are you dating one of them?” My mother asked with a hopeful lisp.

  “Mother!” I exclaimed appalled. “They’re just kids. I’m just helping them with some tracks that I’m hoping to send off to a few of my connections. I think Foxy Faux will be interested in them.” I shook my head violently in an attempt to shake away the words, like a dog coming in from the rain.

  “Don’t get so wound up, Kiev. It was just a question. You know I worry about you. How is Foxy doing? I thought for sure the two of you would end up together.”

  I couldn’t help the look that came over my face at her response. My lips pulled back over my teeth in almost a sneer. Not that there was anything wrong with Foxy, the name said it all. She was a gorgeous fiery redhead with jade green eyes and legs that were a mile long wrapped in creamy alabaster skin. Foxy and I had been friends for a while and she had come to several of our family functions. I just couldn’t understand how my mother had ever thought there was anything between us. Foxy was openly gay. I would have thought my mother would have picked up on that considering the last time she was over she brought her longtime girlfriend.

  “Foxy is doing well. She and her girlfriend, Ava, are still together.” I made sure to put emphasis on the word girlfriend hoping my mother would finally put two and two together. Instead, my mother pretended like I hadn’t said anything, typical of her. She bustled around chopping vegetables and tossing them in the pan on the stove. I watched her with rapt attention.

  Coming home to my parent’s house always filled me with warm happy memories. Memories that were so powerful they could wash away all of the bad in my life as if cleansing away the yuck of adulthood.

  It wasn’t lost on me how much both my mother and father had changed. While we had all been away playing rock star, both my mother and father seemed to have aged drastically during my absence. My mother’s dark hair was now tinged with gray. My father who had always had a little salt and pepper seemed to have more salt than pepper and his features were now marred with wrinkles. My mother, though she buzzed around the kitchen like a seasoned pro, now buzzed at a slower pace than before. Her brows seemed to furrow with worry more often than not.

  I was grateful that we had decided to take time off. It had afforded me the time I hadn’t realized at first I needed to spend with both of my parents. I may miss making music and touring but I definitely missed my parents more.

  “I’m just worried about you,” My mother finally muttered after a long silence.

  “Momma, I know.” I tried to placate her best I could. I understood her concerns for me to find a wife and settle down better than she thought, but I had never been one to talk about my romantic feelings with my mother and I didn’t plan to start doing that now.

  Talking to my mom about romantic feelings was akin to talking to my mom about sex, neither were on my to-do list now, if ever in my life. It was a strict no-fly zone.

  “Kiev, you haven’t caught the gay have you?” My mother asked deadpan over her shoulder as she stirred the pot on the stove.

  I choked on the air I gulped when the words spilled out of her motherly lips so nonchalantly, preventing me from answering. With the back of my hand, I tried to wipe away the spittle that had shot from my mouth in shock.

  “Oh, Kiev, my sweet boy, both your father and I will still love you the same. We hear it’s going around like crazy this gay thing. Spreading like wildfire they say.” She continued on as though it were a common conversation.

  I fought to breathe as she continued to speak, choking on my silent laughter as I struggled to relearn how to make my lungs function. I felt the burn in my lungs as I struggled to get ahold of myself.

  “Mom,” I barely managed to choke out burying my face in my hands in embarrassment. I could not believe my mother thought I was gay and that she was openly asking me.

  “Anna, did you ask him about the gay bug?” My father asked as he walked into the kitchen. Clearly, this had been a conversation they had been discussing for some time now.

  My eyes nearly bulged out of my head with shock. Not only did my mother think I was gay but my father as well. I swear I was dying on the inside both from humor and mortification.

  “Son, can you breathe? Anna why is he so red?” My father’s face was a mask of worry as I struggled to breathe; his tall frame loomed over me, his face inches from mine as he studied me with concern. I watched as the wrinkles on his forehead creased creating deep caverns of worry.

  I held out my hand motioning for them to stop speaking while I tried to catch my breath. My father straightened up, standing to his full six foot three height, towering over me as I sat at the bar. He and my mother both shared a look of confusion as they watched on.

  “First off, you can’t catch being gay. You’re born that way.” I managed to choke out. “Secondly, I am not gay. I promise you. I have had enough women…” My father shot me a warning look halting me in my tracks. His eyes narrowed as though daring me to continue. I quickly began to rephrase what I was saying.

  “I’m just saying, I’m positive that I’m not gay.” I looked them both in the eyes a
s I spoke.

  I wanted to laugh and run all at the same time. I couldn’t believe the absurdity. I’ve laid a lot of pipe in my time and never have I ever been accused of being gay before. I’ve never even been accused of being Bi.

  My mother just shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the food she had been preparing as though I had never spoken. My father stood staring at me, looking me over, his eyes boring into me as he scanned me from head to toe, looking for any sign that I may be lying. It was as though he thought that by looking at me hard enough he would be able to see if I was, in fact, gay or not.

  The gay bug, I mused as I shook my head chuckling. Only my parents could come up with that. You would think with my father being a rocket scientist and all, he would know that you couldn’t catch being gay. Obviously, he was still stuck in the stone ages in many ways.

  “You know we would love you all the same.” My father said echoing my mother’s words. I could see the concern on his face. He was telling the truth, they would still love me the same, but at the same time, he also worried about me catching the ‘gay bug’. I was half tempted to tell them that I was indeed gay just so they would get off my case.

  I gave him my best encouraging smile before answering. “I promise you Papa, I’m not gay. I want a wife and a baby but it is not something you can just order over the phone like you would a pizza.” My father just shook his head as though my words were utter nonsense. The look of disbelief painted on his face.

  “If you want a wife I can get you one by tomorrow.” My mother chimed merrily in from her station in front of the stove.

  “Anna,” My father warned raising his brow at her.

  “What, Igor? I’m simply stating the truth. If he wants a wife so badly and he isn’t coming down with the gay then I will get him a wife.” My mother set her stare on my father in challenge, her hands resting on her hips. The potholder in her hand was left dangling, like a fuse on a bomb.

  “He will want a good wife, not some lonely floozy of a daughter of one of the women from one of your sewing groups,” My father huffed out.

  “They are not floozies. They are good, God fearing women.” My mother chided shaking the potholder in her hand at him. If looks could kill my father would have been a dead man. I was not envious of him in the least in this moment. My mother was a force to be reckoned with.

  “If they were good god fearing women then why are they still single?” My father challenged back as his face began to turn red in anger, further cementing his grave I was sure.

  I saw the fire in my mother’s eyes and knew I had to defuse the situation before my father was on the menu for dinner. She would have his ass roasted and toasted before anyone knew what was happening.

  “Hey, Mama, Papa, I’m still here.” I waved my hands in front of me like I was trying to calm a wild animal, pulling their attention to me instead of on one another.

  “You want a good wife. I have a good wife for you.” My father jabbed his long slim finger at me; his anger still lingering from his brief argument with my mother had now been directed at me.

  “Who is this good wife?” My mother demanded. Her hands were propped back up on her hips as she stared my father down, commanding an answer.

  “Nina Mikhailov,” My father stated arrogantly, his chest puffed out, shoulders drawn back, as though he had just discovered the cure for cancer.

  My mother proudly clapped her hands and beamed up at my father. All traces of anger swiftly removed and long forgotten. “Igor, that’s a brilliant idea,” She cried out, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

  Confused I looked between the two of them. “Tosha’s cousin?” I rubbed the back of my neck in an attempt to ease the building tension.

  My mother just swatted me away with her hands as if I were a fly buzzing around in annoyance, the pot holder in her hand swaying with every movement.

  I knew Tosha didn’t have any direct cousins, his parents didn’t have any siblings, but he had a second or third cousin that was a girl. I could vaguely remember her. She was a year or two younger than us. What I do remember with clarity was that she was hideous. I don’t mean in the sense that she just wasn’t very pretty but more along the lines of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, a complete and utter Quasimodo. There was no way in hell I would even consider marrying a woman like her. I was desperate but nowhere near that desperate.

  “Mama, Papa, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but…” My mother’s stern look stopped me in my tracks.

  “Kiev, shut your mouth. Your father and I are talking. You sit there and be a good son while your father and I discuss this.” The fire in her eyes was warning enough. I obeyed and sat as silently as I could. I sent a silent prayer up to God, begging him to crack open the earth and swallow me whole.

  I knew that once my mother got a bee in her bonnet there was no way to change her mind. This is why I don’t talk to my mother about relationships. I mentally kicked myself in the ass.

  I sat like a good son at the bar in the kitchen and listened to my parents plan out my life. Inside I was dying a silent death. I should have just went with the mail order bride, at least that way if things went south I wouldn’t have my family involved and now Tosha’s.

  My parents continued their discussion about Nina and me through dinner and on into the night. It seemed that by the time I was able to escape to my own home the two of them had planned out our meeting, our marriage, and the names of our children. Neither Nina nor I would have a say in this with the way my parents spoke.

  It seemed that my only escape would be to get in contact with Nina and persuade her to not accept my parent’s proposal for marriage.

  The only way I would be able to get in contact with her was to either contact Tosha’s parents or through Tosha himself. Either way, it looked like the cat was about to be out of the proverbial bag.

  I knew I would need to approach the situation with kid gloves. I didn’t want to tell Tosha I wasn’t interested in his cousin because she was fugly and reminded me of a character from a Disney cartoon. That was the fastest way to end a friendship and be put on his shit list. I also didn’t really have a good excuse for why I wasn’t interested in her. I wished I had kept my big mouth shut and let my parents think I was gay.

  I had already told Katinka that I was interested in finding a wife and I knew that by now everyone in the house was sure to know. Katinka wasn’t known for keeping secrets and I knew that she told Tosha everything. Even if Katinka had only told Tosha he was sure to have told all of the guys by now.

  My parents were expecting me to marry Nina now that I had left the door open for my mother to barge right in. My options for ending this were getting few and far between.

  Faking my own death seemed like a plausible way to get out of this right about now. I began to run through all the possible scenarios I could use to fake my own death while mentally continuing to kick my own ass. Why did I have to have such a big mouth? I blamed the Estrogen factory at home for my current predicament. If the women of the house hadn’t planted the seed I wouldn’t be currently betrothed to the creature from the lost lagoon right now. Perhaps I could pack up my things and disappear to a remote island somewhere.

  Chapter 3

  When I left my parent’s house I took my time going home. I knew that it was still early enough for someone to be awake and I didn’t want to deal with the possible shit storm that could be awaiting me. Perhaps the term shit storm is an over exaggeration, though it didn’t feel like it. I felt like my life was spiraling out of control and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  I drove through town, hitting all of the old hangouts that we used to go to as kids. I was amazed to see how much the town has grown since we were young punk kids. The Dairy Bar we used to hang out at and take our dates to was long gone and replaced by a large bank. Even the park we had ridden our bikes at as kids had been removed and in its place stood an apartment complex.

  By the time I had decided to head home I was feeling
worse than when I had started. Nothing was the same anymore; everything seemed to have changed overnight. It was obvious that everyone and everything around me had moved along with the times, I seemed to be the only one dragging my feet, one foot in the past with a hand that was reaching out to the future.

  I lay in bed wondering what it was I even wanted and why. Sure I said I wanted a wife and a kid of my own, but why. What was it that a wife could do for me that any girl I pulled out of a crowd couldn’t do? Why couldn’t I just be happy spoiling my niece and nephew? Why did I have to have my own children? I really had no answers other than it was what I wanted.

  I was a walking talking contradiction. I wanted something yet was I really working hard enough to get it? Was I willing to take whatever was thrown my way just to get it? Would it make me as happy as I imagined it would?

  All of these questions rolled through my mind and I had no answers. I could marry Tosha’s cousin, Nina, and that would solve my wife and baby issue but would it bring me the same happiness and joy that I saw radiating off Tosha, Damon, and Nik?

  It seemed that a mail order bride or arranged marriage couldn’t promise me more than words and a title. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean there is love. Just because we have a baby together doesn’t mean we will be happy. There seemed to be no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I felt like I was chasing an empty dream.

  I heard my door crack open. Shifting in the bed I peered over and saw Katinka creeping into my room. I sat up in the bed scooting myself back onto the mattress so that I could lean my back against the headboard.