Three Part Harmony (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

29. Epilogue Two

Epilogue Two

Griffin

Six Months Later . . .

Balls on fire was a good way to describe my recovery from the biceps surgery but I was well on my way to a full comeback. The doctors were claiming the muscle was even stronger now because of the repair, but I wasn’t sure I believed them. Even still, I was very happy with where I was physically since this nightmare happened at Rocktoberfest about eight months ago. I’d come a long way during that time frame. Too many hours to count of physical therapy that sometimes kicked my ass to the nth degree but I never gave up. There were times I wanted to but Michael seemed to sense it and knew just how to nudge me through the rough patch. I’m not going to lie, the work to come back from that surgery was daunting and flat-out hard as fuck, but I did it, and I felt confident in saying the worst was definitely behind me. In fact, my doctors cleared me to return to work, providing I could pass the physical tests Ventura Security required of their personal security officers.

The physical test was a mixture of cardio, motor skills, and strength ability. It was close to military boot camp style physical testing and not for the faint of heart. It pushed me to the far reaches of my capabilities but I completed the two-day testing process. I wasn’t sure how well I’d done but I had a meeting with Fizzbo today to go over everything.

A lot was riding on this. If I passed and Fizzbo stayed true to allowing me to slip back into my position as Michael’s guard, then that’s what I wanted to do. If I failed the physical, I decided I’d stay with the company but I’d do easier protection jobs. The problem with that was it would separate me and Michael for long periods of time when he left on tours. While he did that, I’d likely be stuck in LA working with other clients—and missing him something terrible.

The drive downtown to Fizzbo’s office had me sweating at the thought of how this meeting might go. I knew Mike would stay with me, regardless if I was working directly with him or on other details, so that’s not what I was concerned about. It was doing the long distance thing with him that I feared. Our relationship was rock solid and I felt confident he wouldn’t bow to temptation while on the road—at least willingly. But sometimes the ridiculous antics of his peers spilled over to sweep him up in it, too, and that’s when shit usually went sideways.

I didn’t necessarily think he’d break under pressure and hook up with a groupie or some other rando. We’d talked about trust numerous times and Mike was a hundred percent confident he could be faithful to me. In return, I promised him I wouldn’t freak out like I did at The Asylum gig all those months ago without talking to him first. But there was always the tiniest dust particle of doubt that just lingered like a shadow in the far recesses of my brain. I couldn’t help myself but it was something I continued to work on every day to get past.

Now, as I walked into Fizzbo’s office for our meeting, I was feeling a different kind of doubt but one equally as unsettling.

“You’re looking well, Griffin,” Fizzbo greeted. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you. It must be because I’m feeling great,” I affirmed, and sat in front of his large oak desk.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he said and set his muscled thigh on top of the edge to rest his large frame. He ran a big hand through his short hair and then gave his scalp a scratch while he appeared to be gathering his thoughts together. “Still in love with Mike?”

“Completely, and it continues to deepen every day,” I said in a serious tone. “I never thought it was possible to have this kind of connection with someone.”

“And, it’s obvious to everyone around you,” Fizzbo agreed with a smile. “A blind man could see how you feel every time you look at each other. I’m really happy for you, Griff. He’s a special guy and genuine.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Fizzbo shifted a bit on the corner of the desk. “Let me ask you the question I asked right after The Asylum show and you requested to be reassigned to another client. Are you confident in your ability to protect Mike with how you feel about him now? Because I’m guessing your feelings have grown since The Asylum show, and back then you were talking about emotions being a distraction for you to the point you didn’t feel you could properly do your job to protect him.”

“That’s correct. I remember saying it, and at that time, that’s how I felt,” I answered.

“How do you feel now?” Fizzbo questioned.

“I am one hundred and ten percent certain that I can keep him protected better than anyone else on your team,” I said with pride dripping off every word.

“Excellent answer, because I gotta say, I saw you in action at Rocktoberfest,” Fizzbo said. “You were the only security officer—from our team and those who worked for the event—who detected the threat for what it was and immediately went into action. Your reaction was spot on, Griffin. You did everything according to the training protocols we’re always preaching about. I witnessed no hesitation on your part and I definitely didn’t sense you were distracted—even after you realized Mike was likely the intended target. ”

“Be visible, vigilant, observe, adapt to situational changes, be quick, maintain order, and protect at all cost,” I rambled off our mantra as if I were reading it from a text book.

A slow smile spread across Fizzbo’s handsome face. “I’m having a Proud Papa moment here,” he said with affection.

“I was trained by the best,” I said and grinned at him.

He held my gaze for a moment and then stood to move around his desk to sit in the swivel chair on the opposite side again. “Would you like to know how you did on the physical exam and in the situational rooms?”

“I’m nervous to hear but I know I gave it my all,” I answered. Nervous was an understatement. In reality, my gut was churning with anxiety so badly, I thought I might vomit. But I had absolutely done my best, and given the opportunity, my skills would continue to improve the more time I had to I heal.

“You passed your physical exam with flying colors,” Fizzbo announced. “Our medical team saw minimal deficit since the injury and unanimously approved your reinstatement to the previous position. That being said, I also need to point out something else in the report. You were a little slow in the situational rooms when presented with potential threat scenarios. But considering your time away from the job to recover, I would say that is to be expected. I have full confidence that your reactionary speeds will improve simply from being back on the job. Do you think that’s a fair assessment?”

“I might have been a little slower, but I’d like to point out that my reactions to every scenario presented were accurate and my follow-through appropriate,” I boldly added.

Fizzbo grinned. “That is correct,” he said, “and there is a notation in the report stating as much, which leaves just one question. Would you like your old job back with Mike?”

“I think you already know my answer to that one,” I replied.

“Excellent,” Fizzbo nodded. “Their tour starts in one month. You’ll do light duty until then, but once we leave for the road, you’ll be back to your full and normal duties. Does that sound good?”

“I’m more than ready and able for the tasks involved,” I confirmed. “Believe me, no one will protect him better than I will.”

“Then it’s my pleasure to welcome you back to the team, Griffin,” he said, then stood from behind his desk and extended his hand to me.

I stood, too, and accepted his handshake, damn proud of myself for rising above being sliced open while saving Michael. I would have taken any amount of bodily damage, including death, in order to protect him. Partly because it was my job to do so, but it was also the oath we took when we were hired. I had another reason beyond both those things and it was the depth of my love for this man that had me catapulting through the air to land on the blade of a hunting knife.

Case closed.

I’d do it a hundred more times if it kept him safe, happy, and in my life .

I left Fizzbo’s office flying so high I swear my feet weren’t touching the ground. I couldn’t wait to share my good news with Michael, but I had one more stop to make before I went home to him. I drove a few streets over from the Ventura Security Headquarters and pulled up in front of a store I was quite familiar with by this point in my life. As I stepped through the door of the shop today, and the bells chimed above my head, I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.

My trip downtown to meet with Fizzbo and to run my other errand had taken much longer than I thought. By the time I finally walked through the door to the condo, Michael was waiting for me with a look of concern on his face.

“Jesus, I was starting to worry,” he sighed and wrapped me up in his arms. “Did everything go okay with Fizzbo? Did you pass your physical and he offered to put you back on your old job?”

“I aced the physical and then I accepted Fizzbo’s offer,” I remarked. “Which means we’ll both be going on tour—together.”

“Seriously?” he asked, and jumped up to fold his legs around my hips. He pressed his chest to mine and I winced at the friction.

“Careful, baby,” I said against his slightly parted lips.

“Did I hurt your arm?” he questioned and I shook my head.

“Nope, my arm is feeling fan-fucking-tastic,” I said. “In fact, I felt so good after the meeting, I stopped on the way home for a little something I’ve been wanting for a few weeks.”

Michael tilted his head in question and hopped down from my hips. “What’s going on?” he asked .

I took a step backward then grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. His eyes fell to my bare chest and the patch of plastic wrap taped to the skin over my heart.

“Holy shit, what did you get?” he asked once he realized what I’d done.

I carefully peeled back the tape to reveal the fresh ink I’d just had done at my favorite tattoo shop. Mike moved closer to check out the new artwork. I’d been creating the design in my head for weeks, wanting to get it just right before I had it added to my body. Today everything aligned for me and that made it the perfect day to have this done to mark the occasion.

“It’s a shooting star blazing through the sky and the rainbow-colored sparkles that make up tail spell out, ‘My Rockstar,’” I explained with pride. “You’re my shooting star, Michael, and I wanted it inked onto my left pec because you live inside my heart now and always will.”

His fingertips lightly stroked around the edges of the protective gel covering the fresh ink. He had a look of awe on his face and when his gaze lifted to meet mine, I saw so much emotion shimmering on the tips of his lashes. “You did this for me?” he asked.

I nodded at him and swallowed hard. “I wanted a piece of you permanently etched on my skin,” I said.

“It’s stunning and I feel so honored—and loved, Griff. Every day you find new ways to show your commitment to me and that makes me love you even more.”

Michael stepped back a bit and proceeded to remove his t-shirt, tossing it to the floor on top of mine. Then his fingers went to work peeling back a similar looking piece of plastic wrap that covered a section of skin on his left biceps muscle.

“Holy shit, you just got inked, too?” I asked with surprise. Mainly because he hadn’t mentioned he was thinking about doing it. Then again, I hadn’t shared my intentions with him about mine. I guess this was yet another example of how we were consistently on the same wavelength.

“I did,” he answered. “As soon as you left for the meeting, I drove to go get this done. Do you know what it is?”

“I think it’s an animal of some sort,” I said as I inspected it closely.

“It’s a Griffin,” he said, “and, same as you, this mythical half-lion, half-eagle creature will always have my back and be my fiercest protector in life and love.”

“Is the location on your left arm symbolic for you?” I asked.

“Yes, and I think you know why.”

“It’s the spot I took a knife blade from an assailant to show how much I love you,” I teased with a grin.

“You are correct, but are you sure about your reason? Maybe it had more to do with you falling onto a knife that a bad guy happened to be holding? Perhaps you’re just clumsy.”

He was mocking me to ease some of the emotions running rampant in this moment. I knew that. Mike was always the comedian, and it only made him more endearing to me, so I continued to play along.

“Next you’ll start implying I cut myself to get attention,” I mumbled as I laid the plastic wrap back into place over the tattoo and pulled my shirt back on.

“Well, now that you’ve thrown that out as another theory, I have to ask the obvious question. Did you do that to yourself?” he asked. “I mean, you can be honest with me. I won’t tell anyone.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him dress. “You are such a smart ass, and a brat,” I commented with only adoration in my tone.

“I thought I was your shooting star?” he joked, using air-quotation marks for emphasis.

My arms circled his waist once he was covered again. “You are my rockstar, my one and only love, and so, so much more.”

“Kiss me, and never, ever stop,” he requested.

“I don’t plan to.”

“Good, because your shooting star is hoping to be shooting something else real soon,” he said and laughed. Then he took my hand and started tugging me down the hall toward our bedroom, and I was more than happy to let him.