The Sirens of Catalunya

Author's Note:

I've split this novel into four sections for publication here. If you haven't read parts 1-3, I strongly suggest doing so before proceeding. All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Thirty-Two

"Good morning," Izzy announced into his phone with feigned cheerfulness accomplished in part by easing the control he normally kept on his English accent. "We've just arrived in your country this morning but there was a mix up with our luggage and I'm afraid we've misplaced our credit cards. I was hoping you could let us a room for the evening. We could pay in cash, of course. Including a deposit if that would be preferable." He listened for a moment before sighing and disconnecting the call without another word.

He looked up to find his companions looking at him pensively from where they leaned against the hood of their sedan. They had stopped in a lonely part of the parking lot for a mall outside of Red Bank, New Jersey to plan their next move. The strategy they had formulated with Doris, a plan which Izzy still fervently opposed, required they lay low for at least a few days. They were finding, however, that locating a hotel which did not insist on a credit card was easier in rural western Virginia than it was less than an hour from New York City.

Liv said, "I struck out too."

"Are you sure we can't use a credit card?" Sofi queried hopefully.

"No," he replied sadly. "But Doris agreed that it likely wouldn't be wise. The unfortunate truth is that there's no way to know if something is likely going to cause us trouble until it does. We're operating completely blind here. Maybe Murdock and his drug-dealing associates are no more sophisticated than your average street thug. Or maybe they're like the syndicates in the movies and they're watching our every move. I'm just trying to do everything I can to keep you guys safe. And the best thing I can think of is keeping you out of sight."

"I thought you said Doris was stupid," Ali retorted without quite managing to keep a straight face.

Izzy failed to notice the implied jest and answered simply. "I didn't say she was stupid. I said she was out of her fucking mind if she thought I'd agree to any strategy that puts you three in danger."

"We can't keep going like this forever, babe," Liv said softly. "We can't even find a place to stay for the night at this point."

"I know," he groaned. "I wish I'd thought to do something so we could operate with a bit more anonymity."

"But none of the cards we use now have our real names on them," Ali pointed out.

"Indeed. And I thought that was sufficient. Unfortunately, your father knows about all the aliases we could use. And we still don't know if he's feeding info to Murdock because they're accomplices, or merely because he's a fool and thinks that's his path to getting back in your good graces."

"Maybe we shouldn't have done the press release," Liv murmured. "In hindsight, it seems like we poked the hornets' nest."

Ali sighed and slumped against the sedan. "Ultimately, it doesn't matter. That piece of shit is cut-off for good. You should have heard my mom when I told her."

"Let me guess," Sofi interposed excitedly. "Three parts 'I told you so'; one part 'what took so long'; and four parts 'I always knew you'd come to your senses eventually'."

"Oh, no. She'd never blow her wad on something this good. She'll spread this gloating out overyears. What she did do was drop her phone in the sink. I'm not sure if it was surprise or celebration. She was obviously doing the thing where she squishes the phone between her face and her shoulder, because she refuses to use speakerphone for some crazy reason. So, I tell her we told Gus to hit the bricks and next thing I hear is asplooshas her brand-new phone goes to sleep with the dishes."

"I think it's 'sleep with the fishes', honey," Izzy offered.

"I know the phrase, you dork. I meant she literally dropped her phone into a sink full of dishes. Good thing I just bought her the latest model, I guess. It still worked fine after the dunking. Funny thing is, Mom was even happier because now she thinks she's figured out a life hack for getting smudges off your phone."

"Cripes," Izzy grunted. "I hope you got it insured. Your mom's one of the most lovely women I've ever met (present company obviously excluded), but I wager it'll be less than a fortnight before she contacts you complaining that her phone is malfunctioning after she ran it through the dishwasher."

"My thoughts as well," Ali admitted with a grin. "I specifically told her not to try it again. But it's only a matter of time before she gets a bit of jam on it and decides it needs to be thoroughly sanitized."

"Indeed," Izzy allowed with a grin.

His merriment faded quickly however as the reality of their situation once again landed on his shoulders, leaving him feeling like a caryatid asked to bear the weight of the world. The idea of doing more camping had been proposed, but the changing of the seasons had finally started to catch up with them. According to the usually reliable app on his phone, they were in for at least a week of cold rain.

He was pulled from his helpless musings by the buzzing of the device he still held in his hand. He looked down to see a name which seemed a bit like fate. He sighed at the burden of prophecy because he knew in an instant precisely how the proceeding hours would come to pass; just as certainly as he knew that that knowledge would do nothing to attenuate the risk they would assume when he answered the call from one of his oldest friends.

***

***

"There's Bowen!" Sofi shouted from just behind Izzy's ear. She then realized what she had done and leaned forward to kiss him gently before murmuring, "Sorry."

"It's ok, honey," he reassured her as he drove slowly up the extremely long drive which led to the center of the world-renowned drummer's estate.

Their host was waiting for them at the base of the stairs which led to the main entrance, along with his wife of more than two decades and their two dogs. Izzy eased their filthy sedan to a stop and let out a weary sigh. The process of finding their way to Bowen's estate had been a laborious one, involving a very indirect route. For the final fifteen kilometers, they had also been accompanied by three vehicles filled with private security that their host had hired to ensure their safe arrival.

Ali was first out of the car and began the lengthy process of exchanging hugs and kissing cheeks. Izzy was surprised to find himself drawn into the ritual. Bowen hugged him like a long-lost brother and his wife delivered a kiss on his cheek that was far from a pro-forma peck.

"I'm so glad you made it," Natalie whispered to him. "We've been worried sick about you guys."

"Same here," Izzy replied sincerely. "Where are the kids?"

"They've all gone off to college, if you can believe it."

"Music?"

"Oh, far worse," Natalie replied with mock horror. "One's in business administration, the other's in communications."

Izzy shuddered visibly. "The horror. I guess Bowen went too hard on that line about wearing a suit twice in your life."

"Once to get married, once to get buried," Natalie quoted. "Believe me, we've all heard it plenty of times. Come on in. You guys must be exhausted."

As they climbed the stairs to the house, Izzy heard a sound behind him. He turned to spot one of the vans that had paced them in the last leg of their journey pulling to a halt in the middle of the entry road. Three men climbed out and, after grabbing bags which obviously (and poorly) concealed rifles from the rear of the vehicle, spread out to begin patrolling the perimeter.

Bowen noticed where Izzy's attention was focused and said, "We'll have four guards here around the clock. Hopefully they'll be fairly inconspicuous, but they assure me that their not insubstantial fee will be vacated if anyone gets within a mile of here without our permission."

"I expect you to send me the bill for that."

"Then I regret to inform you that you'll be greatly disappointed when it fails to arrive." Bowen took a moment to study Izzy before adding, "You look really good, brother. Better than you have in decades."

Izzy sighed sadly. "There's something I have to tell you before we get too cozy."

Bowen frowned back at him. "Listen, don't sweat it about that tour next summer. I know I've been leaning on you pretty hard about it, but it's really no big deal if you don't think you've got the time."

"It's not that," Izzy replied somberly. "Something's happened."

"I know about the crash and that maniac trying to abduct the girls," Bowen said in obvious confusion.

"Women," Izzy corrected automatically. "And this relates to them."

"And I know the label's been leaning on them pretty hard about softening their sound, but you guys don't have to do what they say. Sure, they might drop you. But I doubt it. And even if they did, the band would be scooped up by another label in no time."

"I know," Izzy groaned. "And we will. But that isn't it either. They..."

"Is it the promoters for the gigs you cancelled trying to come after you for lost ticket sales?"

"No, we..."

"The equipment you lost in the crash?"

"Bowen!" Izzy snapped. "Please... just listen."

The drummer held up his hands in surrender and then looked up at Izzy expectantly. Bowen Lloyd was a living juxtaposition. Long hair paired with an equally long beard. Streaks of blue dye mixed with natural grey to create a visage not unlike a Celtic warrior, especially when considered in conjunction with his prodigious tattooing. Yet this objectively very metal appearance stood in contrast to the reading glasses resting on the end of his nose and the T-shirt he wore (which was for a school play in which one of his children had performed) paired with sweats and slippers.

"Listen," Izzy began. "I know this will likely be pretty shocking. It certainly was to me. And I'll understand if you decide we need to find someplace else to lay low."

"Not gonna happen," Bowen interrupted before once again conceding the proverbial floor to Izzy.

Izzy stared at him for several long moments as his frustration at the interruptions gave way to an insurmountable feeling of helplessness while he struggled to find the right words. Countless statements sprang to mind, but they all reeked of either regret or sounded uncomfortably like he was assigning blame to others.

At length, he went with the simplest truth of all. "I love them."

Bowen blinked several times before glancing in the direction of the women who had proceeded them. "Yeah?" Bowen grunted; the confusion still quite evident on his face. "I still don't know what you're on about."

Izzy groaned. "I mean... Ilovethem. What I mean to say is, we're together. Now. You know... romantically."

"Right," Bowen huffed. "No shit."

"But... how?"

"Sofi told me," he replied as though it were painfully obvious. "That girl can't keep a secret for shit." Bowen pulled Izzy into a room which had the look of a library. "Look. I've known for years those girls... women... were completely smitten with you. Almost as long as I've known you felt the same way."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Your business. And theirs."

"How are you not calling your goons in to chuck me in an Iron Maiden or something?" Izzy whisper-shouted. "You tapped me to protect them, to make sure this miserable fucking business didn't ruin them."

"And you've done a better job than I could have ever imagined."

Izzy sighed wearily. "It's no secret I didn't know shit about managing when you offered me up to them."

"And yet, you've done brilliantly. If you weren't so invaluable to them, I'd hire you to manage me."

"But that's just my point. Me getting into a relationship with them was likely the opposite of what you hoped for when you introduced us."

Bowen shrugged, but his smile was indefatigable. "Would it have bothered me if you guys had hooked up right after they hired you? Yeah, probably. But it's been damned-near a decade, brother. You guys have been as close, or closer, than Natalie and I for at least half that time. I'm honestly just thrilled. For all of you. I knew a while ago you'd die before you acted on the way you felt about them. At least in any way that wasn't entirely platonic. I'm just so happy that they finally wore you down."

"I feel like I've fallen into some insane parallel universe," Izzy sighed.

"In that case, whatever you do, steer clear of strange portals or suspicious phone booths."

"What?"

Bowen clapped Izzy on the back jubilantly. "It's up to you, brother. But, if I was in your shoes, the last thing I'd be doing is looking for a way to get things back to quote, unquote, normal."

Thirty-Three

"Yeah Ali!" Bowen shouted jubilantly from his spot behind his massive drumkit as Ali finished an extended solo.

Without apparent effort, Bowen ripped off an extended fill (which, by itself, could have served as a masterclass in percussion technique and timing) while he looked around expectantly to see who would step up to take the next section. When no one said anything, he pointed a stick in Liv's direction without a perceptible diminishment in his playing and said, "Knock 'em dead, Liv!"

An outsider might have suspected the normally reserved young woman to demure at taking center stage, but the bassist for Siren bore little resemblance to shy Olīvija when she was lost in her music. Taking a confident step forward, Liv's fingers flew over the strings as she improvised an extended fill which would have made any of her heroes, the legendary bassists for the progressive rock bands of the seventies, proud.

Izzy came in at the end of Liv's solo and quickly lost himself in the music. The collection of musicians with whom he played, including Sofi on keyboards, were perfectly in sync with him and followed his tempo changes flawlessly. When he transitioned from a virtuosic section filled with more notes than a squadron of accountants could count to a more relaxed groove which allowed him to play slide, they followed him unquestioningly. The tempo continued to slow until he played a final soulful chord.

His eyes opened for the first time in several minutes to find Bowen smiling at him triumphantly, while the expression on the faces of his lovers was something closer to reverential worship. Izzy smiled shyly and waited a long minute before speaking. "You guys want to play another one?"

"Icouldplay all night," Bowen replied. "But Ishouldcall it quits. I already practiced for two hours this afternoon and if I play much longer, I'll regret it tomorrow."

"Holy crap!" Sofi enthused.

"I know," the legendary drummer agreed. "I'm just a broken down shell of my former self."

"That wasn't pity, that was awe. I can barely play for that long and I'm half your age."

Bowen shrugged self-deprecatingly. "What can I say? When I was your age, we were playing three-and-a-half to four hour shows three-to-five nights a week. But things were different then. That was just table stakes for a metal band doing arena tours. Hell, we played gigs in the early days which were so long we'd play every song we'd published, and a half-dozen covers." He squinted at them theatrically and his voice rose an octave. "You kids these days have it easy. What with your internet and your social media. In my day, you had to get played on the radio to get heard."

"You mean like, over the air?" Sofi asked with a chuckle.

"What was it like when amplifiers were invented, Grampa?" Ali added with a snicker.

"Why I outta..." Bowen retorted gaily. "I'll have you know your darling man is only a scant dozen years my junior."

"Meaning he's deliciously perfect," Liv announced. "It's well known that modern males don't actually achieve true self-awareness until they reach thirty."

"What does that make me?"

"Um... experienced?"

"I heard that," Natalie announced from the door to Bowen's state-of-the-art recording studio which took up the majority of his basement. "I'll have you know my man isalsodeliciously perfect. Speaking of which, it's time we got to bed. He's got to do an interview for a German chat show first thing in the morning. You guys should have everything you need in the guest house, but don't hesitate to call us if you need anything."

"Wait," Bowen interjected. He stared at Izzy pointedly. "I know you've got this thing with the girls... women. No one would ever blame you for putting them first, especially with all the shit you've got going on right now. But... every day you go without playing in front of people is a fucking crime. I'd love for you to join us next summer. But if that doesn't work out, you've got to promise me you'll play withsomeone."

Ali said, "We already bullied him into featuring on our next album. So, he's got to play with us on tour next year."

Sofi added, "And obviously that'll include playing with you whenever we're playing the same festival."

"I feel like I should get a say here," Izzy cut in.

"Come off it, Izzy," Liv said warmly. "We all know youwantto play. That's all you've ever wanted."

He looked at her with an intensity that surprised even him. "That's not true. I'd choose you guys over playing again any day."

She smiled shyly and crossed to wrap him in a tight embrace. "Same here."

Ali and Sofi followed Liv's lead, with the latter saying, "The only reason you haven't played since we met you is because you thought you couldn't do that and take care of us at the same time. Now you know we'll do whatever it takes to allow you to do both."

Izzy nodded tearfully at them before looking at Bowen. "Put me down as a maybe."

"Fuck yeah!" their host enthused as he pumped his fist exuberantly.

"Come on," Natalie huffed cheerfully as she dragged her husband toward the stairwell.

"Good night!" Sofi called after them. She then turned to Izzy and held a single finger aloft. For ten long seconds, nothing happened. Sofi then grinned hungrily in his direction and said, "Let's go!"

"Where are we meant to be going," he asked as he fell in step behind her.

"To pound town," Sofi called over her shoulder as her pace increased.

"Excuse me?" Izzy cackled as he heard Liv and Ali follow behind him while Sofi led them toward the basement's exterior door.

She stopped at the door and turned back to him; a wicked gleam in her eye. She held up one hand with her thumb and index finger touching to form a circle before sliding the index finger of her other hand through the aforementioned ring. "My pussy. Your dick. Sucky drippy squishy bang bang gushy. Capiche?"

"Your way with words is truly a thing of wonder," Ali muttered drolly.

"No time for commentary," Sofi huffed as she hurried across the pool deck toward the guest house.

"Methinks someone is feeling a wee bit anxious," Liv said sotto voce.

Sofi's pace had quickened to such a degree that she was nowhere to be found by the time Izzy entered the guest house. Pausing for a moment to listen, he heard retreating footfalls in the stairwell. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the upper floor (which was entirely comprised of an expansive master suite) to find Sofi yanking off the last of her garments. She rushed to Izzy and without preamble dropped to her knees and began struggling to unfasten his shorts.

Ali reached the top of the stairs and snickered at the sight which greeted her. She knelt by Sofi's side and helped to divest Izzy of his shorts, helped in large part by her decidedly less frantic movements. Sofi engulfed his hardening cock eagerly as Ali ducked her head to suck one of his balls into her mouth. Hands stroked up along his hips and he found his shirt being lifted over his head in advance of Liv's spectacularly unclothed breasts pillowing against his back. Liv's tongue slid along his earlobe and her warm breath finished the job of bringing him to full rigidity that Sofi and Ali's efforts had begun.