Chapter 59

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The first people Bryce ran into when he arrived were Ashanté's parents, but the reception he got was not what he expected.

"This is all your fault!" Beverly shouted. "My baby was never like this until you got your grubby white paws on her!"

Beverly and Lamar were only two among hundreds crowded around the grounds. A chopper flew low overhead, but Bryce still couldn't fathom what the hell was going on until the clinic head grabbed him by the arm.

"Are you Bryce Walker?"

Bryce turned. "Yeah. What's happening?"

"Ashley's up on the roof threatening to jump. She says she can't live with everyone staring at her."

Bryce looked around and laughed angrily. "So the first thing everyone here does is crowd around the building and stare at her?"

Proof positive:  people were douche canoes.

"I'm only one man. I can't stop them. I've called the police about the TV network that sent the chopper, but they've done nothing so far. I have some of the techs using blankets as nets in case she jumps, but she seems frozen up there at the moment. Whenever someone tries to climb the ladder she moves to the ledge, so we don't want to send anyone up. She seems fond of you, though, and might tolerate your presence up there."

Argh. This probably wasn't a good time to mention his fear of heights. "All right, where is this ladder?"

The doctor took him to the side of the building, and Bryce began climbing the three stories to the roof.

Hand on a rung, take one step up, move hand to the next rung...

Had Ashanté climbed up this way? Seemed unlikely. Wouldn't the receptionist notice her leaving the building? There must be a way to get to the roof from inside, but he couldn't remember the layout. I never went up to the roof anyhow.

Just how was he going to coax her down? He had no idea what to say when he got there. Maybe we can just stay on the roof the rest of our lives.

One thing he needed to do was get her out of this clinic. He could detox her more safely in his own home.

"Yeah, Beverly will go for that. Hehe."

Take another step up, move hand to the next rung...

He'd need to change the sheets in the guest room. They were clean, but hadn't been washed in years. Didn't beds get musty when they weren't slept in? He'd have to ask his mother.

The higher he climbed, the more his hands shook and sweated. I've got to get my mind off this.  What had he been thinking about before?

Oh, yes. The house. "Why did I buy such a big house?"  Yes, jabbering about nonsensical things diverted his attention nicely. "Okay, there isn't much choice on that side of town. Every house is huge, and I had plans for those rooms at one time or another. One would be a rehearsal room, one a recording studio, one would be a bear cave. Well, there's no need for a bear cave when I live alone. The whole house is my cave."

He tried not to picture how high he was now. He'd never told anyone about his fear of heights, especially when it only kicked in when he was outside. He rarely got vertigo inside even when looking through the window of a hundred story building, but when outside a building like this, he couldn't stop sweating.

You can't fall off a building from inside.

Once he reached the landing on the second floor, he paused to wipe his hands.

"That's what I need right now, to lose my grip and fall to my death." He'd have to spank Ashanté later for putting him through this. In the blue room, so he could watch the video later.

When his hands were as dry as he could get them, he placed them on the ladder again and looked up to find Ashanté looking down at him. He stepped back and shouted up at her. "Do you want to come down now?"

She shook her head, and he pleaded, "Okay, but don't do anything until I get there, all right?"

She nodded, and he could see she was crying. He mounted the rungs again, distracting himself with more drivel.

"What was I babbling about before? Oh yes, the house. Actually, the band could always rehearse in the garage. We wouldn't need an inner room for that." Like he was ever going to have a band. It was once his greatest dream, but he just didn't have the drive anymore. He picked at the guitar every now and then, but didn't have the patience to practice like Ashanté did.

Maybe he could open his house to other bands and produce them there. He had a professional work station. Or he could just produce Ashanté. She was a free agent now. He could make professional grade videos, upload them to YouTube. Upload the mp3s to Amazon and iTunes. It'd be fine. She had a fanbase. Getting radio time would be damn near impossible without the label behind him, but with the internet who needed radio anymore? She could have one of the most popular channels in cyberspace.

"So I need a name for this fictional label. Maybe name it after one of her songs or something. Call it Ashes Music or some such." He'd have to see if that was taken.

These vinyl dreams were fun but not very realistic. Never mind, they accomplished the purpose. They got him up to the roof. When he reached the top he crawled a few meters on his knees until he felt safely away from the edge, then collapsed on his stomach.

Ashanté! Remembering the reason he'd climbed up here, he rolled over and found her kneeling beside him.

"Heh. Did I ever mention I'm afraid of heights?" he asked sheepishly.

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