The Big, Dumb Idiot

Rain made pattering sounds against the windows of the house, echoing throughout the empty mansion. Precipitation was a rare occurrence during the California summer. Normally, the entire state would suffer through droughts and wild fires until the rains came in the winter. This only confirmed, in my eyes, that the universe was getting some sick satisfaction out of watching me suffer.

Bret was still in the hospital. It had been a solid week since I had returned from Paris, and still no sign of Bret waking up any time soon. I had remained at his bedside the entire time, playing all of his favorite songs and telling him how much I missed him. I refused to be away from him unless I was eating or using the restroom. The only reason I finally left was because CC begged me to go home and get some rest.

Like him, I had developed bags under my eyes and my skin had become even paler than usual. My voice was hoarse from constantly talking to Bret, and my hair had gotten oily and matted. It was obvious that I needed a break. But it still took CC damn near dragging me out of the hospital and stuffing me into a taxi for me to finally go home and take care of myself.

"Bret will never forgive me if I don't make you go home and get some rest," CC had said, forcing a smile as he shut the taxi door.

But how would I ever forgive myself if Bret died while I wasn't there beside him? How could I ever forgive myself if CC had to go through the loss of a friend alone? How could I forgive myself for silently hoping that Nikki would pop up in Bret's hospital room again?

I bit my lip and focused my eyes on the mug of tea sitting on the table in front of me. It had been piping hot when I had sat down, but now it was no longer steaming. I doubted if it was even lukewarm. I had been sitting here for hours. Just...staring.

I didn't even flinch when the phone rang.

Silently, I stood from my chair and padded over to where the phone hung on the kitchen wall. I reached out a hand, my finger tips gliding along the cool plastic, wrapping around the slim body of the phone and pulling it from its cradle. I held it to my ear and took a breath.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Rinaldi?" It was Sarah.

"Yes?"

"Are you...uh, expecting someone?"

I knew it. In the back of my mind, I knew that he would come for me. I wasn't even surprised when I glanced out the window and saw his black Porsche at my front gate. I spotted Sarah in the little shack by the gate, watching his car with a wary gaze.

"Yes. Let him in," I said softly.

"Ms. Rinaldi, I don't think it is who you think it is," Sarah said carefully. It was obvious that she feared losing her job for questioning me, but I knew that her heart was in the right place. She had been trying so hard to keep me busy, away from my thoughts of him. I knew she didn't want me to go through it all over again.

Still, I had questions and he owed me answers. And besides, it would drive me nuts to shoo him away now. When it came to him, I was like a moth to a flame.

"I know who it is. Let him in."

I set the phone back down, cutting Sarah off before she could continue to argue with me. I didn't care what she had to say about what had happened between him and I. I only cared what he had to say about all of the lost time between us.

I strolled down the hallway, stopping only when I reached the foyer. Within seconds, the front door opened, and little by little, Nikki Sixx materialized on my front porch. Drenched in rain, his chest heaving, he stared up at me through the hair that hung in his eyes. The sound of the rain grew louder.

"Hi," I said, my voice barely audible over the sound of the rain drops.

"Hi," he said back, looking me up and down.

I wondered if he was sizing me up, checking to make sure that CC and the rest weren't hiding somewhere in the folds of my night gown. When he realized that he was still standing and staring at me, he coughed awkwardly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The rain was muffled once more.

Once inside, he continued to stare at me, his eyes glowing. I could hear water dripping from his leather jacket and splattering against the marble entryway.

"Here. Let me take your jacket," I offered. "You're soaked."

I tip toed over to where he stood and held out an arm. His eyes followed my every move, finally stopping at my outstretched hand. He didn't make any move to take off his jacket.

"Do you need help?" I asked.

My words snapped him out of his trance. He blinked for a moment, a confused look on his face, before finally sliding off the leather. He wore a Mötley Crüe shirt with the sleeves ripped off, something he always seemed to be doing to all of his shirts.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, flipping the wet hair out of his face. "You're just...you look sick."

"Just what every girl loves to hear," I replied sarcastically, trying not to look at his face too much. I had never seen Nikki without all of that hair in his face, and I had to say, it only made him look better.

He snorted lightly and shook his head. I put his jacket on a hanger in the coat closet, still too terrified to look at him. "I'm always saying the wrong things, aren't I? Just like old times, huh?"

I chuckled. "Sure."

I closed the closet door and turned on my heel. Rather than look at him, I stared down at the silk slippers on my feet. I had so many questions to ask him. So many things to tell him. I didn't know where to start. I decided to just say the first thing that came to mind.

"Why are you here, Nik?"

There was a long pause, but I didn't dare look up at Nikki to see what he was thinking. I just kept on staring at those little, silk slippers.

"For the same reason that you let me in," he finally said.

I furrowed my eye brows. "And why's that?"

He laughed. "You're kidding right?"

I shook my head 'no', still desperately trying to find solace in those slippers.

"Because the curse worked."

Now he had my attention. My head snapped up and I gaped up at Nikki. At first, I was in shock at his words, but then I saw those eyes, and that smile that I had missed for so long. Now I was merely staring at him because he was so breathtaking. So captivating.

I should've just kept watching my damn slippers.

"That's right," Nikki continued with a weak smile. "I died."

I cocked my head, wondering if I had heard him correctly. He had died? Was he talking in metaphors?

"Nikki, you can't be dead. You're standing in my foyer," I reasoned, letting out a nervous giggle. "Unless you're a ghost or a zombie."

He shrugged. "Call me a zombie then. Because I did die. I overdosed a while back, and I died."

I gulped, my eyes bulging as I took in everything that he was saying. But how was this even possible? If he had died, how was he standing here right now? How was he speaking, or breathing, or thinking properly? If he was a zombie, Hollywood was way off on their depiction.

"They resuscitated me, took me to Cedars-Sinai," he explained, stepping closer to me as he spoke. My body shook with anticipation as he advanced towards me. I was torn between wanting him close and wanting him as far away from me as physically possible. However, after hearing of his near death experience, I wanted to hold him more than anything. I ached for his embrace, but he was still so far away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded. If we had decided to be friends, I didn't understand why he wouldn't tell me something so monumental. Dying isn't just something you forget to mention to someone.

He stopped a few feet in front of me, his studious gaze trailing down my body and stopping at the trembling fists at my sides. He silently held out a calloused hand for me to take, but I ignored it.

"Why, Nikki?" I repeated.

"Because," he heaved a sigh and rolled his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling. He lifted both of his arms and scratched at his head. I couldn't believe how childish he was acting. Just like a kid who had been caught doing something wrong, he was taking his time admitting his mistakes, trying his hardest to avoid having to confess what he had done.

"Because, you had warned me all along, and I didn't listen," he finally conceded, letting it all fall out of his mouth in one massive breath.

I raised my eye brows at him, urging him to continue. I knew Nikki was stubborn, but there was no way that he completely cut me from his life just because the curse had proved him wrong.

As if caving in under my stare, Nikki continued. "And I admit, it terrified me. I didn't want to be around you, or anywhere near you. I was scared that it would strike me dead, but actually win this time."

I nodded slowly, waiting for him to go on.

"But then I heard you moved on, and that's what motivated me to come back."

There it was. The truth. The big, fat, ugly truth. Nikki didn't come back for me. He didn't return because he missed me or because he wanted a real relationship with me. He came back because he was jealous. He had heard that I had moved on, and suddenly he decided that he wanted me back. Typical male behavior. Typical narcissistic Nikki.

"God, you're such a pig, Nikki Sixx."

I turned and headed for the kitchen, ready to call Sarah and the security guards that were waiting outside. I wanted Nikki out of my house and back out of my life.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He called after me. I heard his wet boots squeal against the marble as he slid after me.

"Away from you!" I spat, not even looking over my shoulder.

I marched over to the phone and began to dial the number for security.

"Who you callin'?" Nikki asked sheepishly. I figured he already had an idea.

I ignored him, and instead listened as the phone rang on the other line.

Before I could stop him, Nikki lumbered over to where I stood. I shrank against the wall, worried that he might try to hurt me. Instead, he simply smashed his thumb down on the switchhook, abruptly ending the call.

I glared up at him, but he simply shined that cocky smile down at me.

"Stop it!" I ordered, dialing the number again.

"No," he said, hitting the button again.

"Nikki, I'm warning you!" I hissed, smashing in the phone number again.

"What're you gonna' do, Twiggy?" He teased, calmly pressing the button down once more.

I fumed at the mention of the lame nickname he had given me during our wheelchair race. "I hate you."

"Hate isn't too far off from love," Nikki replied with a shrug. "Just means you care enough about me to hate me."

"You're right, I do care. And you don't care about anyone but yourself, do you? You big, dumb idiot!" I knew my insults sounded like something a kindergartener would say, but I didn't care anymore. I was seething at this point. Worse still, I was beginning to cry tears of frustration in front of this moron, only making me look weaker.

"Of course I do! That's why I came back, 'you big, dumb idiot'!" He mocked me. He folded his arms over his chest and watched me carefully. When I didn't say anything back, he continued. "I saw you were with Bret, and I figured you had moved on. Which is fine, whatever."

Okay. Ouch.

"Then I heard about his accident."

I cringed, thinking of how banged up Bret had looked. Nikki didn't seem to notice, or if he did, didn't seem to care.

"And I knew that I had to come back. For you."

"For me?" I stammered, not sure where he was going with this.

He cracked a smile, obviously amused by my surprise. "And a bit for Bret."

Now I was definitely lost. How would coming back to steal me away be good for Bret? As if reading my mind, he spoke again.

"See, I have this theory," he began, reaching his hand out to me once more. This time, he didn't wait for me to accept it. He simply wrapped his fingers around my own and squeezed. His palm was so warm. "I think...I think the curse came after me because I, uh...I started to fall for you."

My heart skipped a beat, and my cheeks flushed. Was this really happening? Was Nikki Sixx actually confessing feelings for me? Feelings that actually extended outside of sexual thoughts?

"To be honest, I love you."

This time, my heart stopped completely. My face felt like it was on fire, and I'm sure he could tell I was blushing. When I looked up at him in shock, he averted his eyes and gulped. I realized that he was just as nervous as I was.

"After I died, I tried to stay away from you. I tried to pretend you didn't exist, hoping the feelings would leave me and I would never have to worry about facing death ever again. Not that close, anyway."

He paused for a moment. I felt his thumb and finger tracing tiny circles on my hand. I savored the loving caress of his skin against mine, and the feel of even that light touch was enough to drive me crazy. Somehow, in those circles, he found the courage to tell me everything.

"Then I heard about Bret, and it got me thinking that maybe...well, I'm the only one to have survived your curse, and I'm doing fine. It's moved onto Bret now. Well, maybe it's a sign. Maybe I'm yours, and that's just how it's supposed to be."

He finished it all in one breath, and I could see his cheeks beginning to redden. He lowered his head, most likely out of habit, to push hair into his face. Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten that he had slicked his hair back earlier, and it did nothing to hide his embarrassment from me. He shuffled uncomfortably in place and bit his lip.

"Well? Aren't you gonna' say something?" It sounded like he wanted his voice to come out harsh, but the words were too high pitched to be even remotely threatening.

Rather than answer right away, I was busy processing all that he had just shared with me. The curse had finally struck him, and he had survived. He was the only man to have come out of a relationship with me and lived. Now, it was Bret's turn, and things weren't looking promising for him.

As strange as this curse was, and as odd as the situation may be, maybe Nikki was onto something after all. Or maybe, I was just twisting these words to meet my own needs. Maybe it was just exactly what I wanted to hear as an excuse to go running back to Nikki.

But, the fact that I wanted to hear it at all despite being with Bret, that was enough to convince me that Nikki was absolutely right about one thing: he was mine. And that was just how it was supposed to be.