Chapter 67

He slumped back against the chair, his eyes moving to the empty bottle sitting beside him. Only good thing about Russia was the premium vodka, and hell even after finishing off the bottle he still felt empty. Fuck Jon and the horse he road on, Fuck 'em all. He wanted Mel.  Standing he swayed his way to his door, opening it in an aim to make it downstairs to the bar. He needed more to make it through the next three days.  Stupid fuckin' concert wasn't for another couple of days and he was already sick of the touristy things they had them all doing.

Shannon stepped out of the elevator and fished around in her purse for her room key.  She couldn't wait to just fall on the bed and take a nap! How did he do it? Keep going like this without rest? It was insane. She'd seen so much over the last few days, but it was all a blur. Thank goodness Jon had some sort of meeting that she was not invited to. Her feelings were not hurt in the least. She heard a door creak open and she stopped fumbling in her purse to look up. She caught site of a disheveled and weary looking Richie swaying in the doorway. Oh god poor thing. Look at him! She shook her head, this was all her fault, if she hadn't opened her big mouth on the plane he wouldn't be in such a state but how was she to know that doc, ok and Jon but mostly doc, had said no to the whole girlfriends thing? "Richie," she said tentatively, "Richie are you ok?"

He glanced up, blinking hard to focus on the body speaking to him. Was he ok? Fuck no, but he wouldn't let Miss Perfect know. "Will be as soon as I get another bottle."

She blinked rapidly. He didn't need another bottle, hell, he could barely stand as it was. "You um... you need another bottle?" She shook her head. “Bar's closed Rich... why don't we go back in here." She gently grasped his arm aiming him back into his room, "We'll just call room service hmm?"

He jerked his arm away. "So gonna start bossing my world too Mrs. Bongiovi? He that contagious is he? Can't have what I want, can't play what I want, can’t DRINK what I want? What the fuck is next?"

"Richie I just..." Shannon was at a loss. This was the second time Richie had lashed out at her and she knew he would normally never behave like this, or at least she thought he wouldn’t. "I'm trying to help you!" 

He leaned in and wavered slightly as he tried hard to focus. "Then go fuck off, at least you can get fucked. Oh wait I did too. I trusted that fuckin' husband of yours whose supposed to be my friend."

"Get fucked? I.." Shannon put her hands on her hips and glared at Richie, "Look Sambora! If you need to get 'fucked' so damn bad why don't you? Not like there’s not a million willing chicks, after all you don’t even have the decency to MARRY your girl so why  make yourself suffer?" She spat the words his way as her anger got the best of her.

He reeled back then straightened. "Cuz she said NO!"  Deep inside, her little trill of anger felt so good, so familiar, something he'd been missing for days. His head fell, his eyes on the floor, "She said no cuz it woulda been too fast, too much like trying to catch up to the asshole. "She turned me down, and he wouldn't let me bring her along. She's all alone now, what if..."

Her anger cooled a bit at his admission. "You... you asked her and she said no? So... you really ARE serious then not just.... ya know messin' around?"

His head jerked up, "I Like my cock where it is for fuck sake."  His brow beetled down at her final words. "Whose been saying I fuck around? Goddamit Shay I can't even go see strippers without being in the doghouse. You think I wanna lose her over some groupie?"

"Well, Jon said you guys just..." Shannon sighed, "Never mind, look Richie I'm sorry you seem to hate me right now but I'm really not the wicked witch of the west ok?"

The fury folded in on itself, icy calm invading every pore. "Exactly what did Jon fucking Prince of jackasses say?”

His sudden calm frightened her more than any of his previous yelling. She realized she had said too much, had probably added fuel to the fire of this brewing storm that seemed to be building with Jon. "He um, he didn't say.... um.." She fumbled back in her purse nervously pulling her room key out. "Look Richie, I'm gonna go.. just um.. look I'm sorry ok I just wanted to say I'm sorry." She backed slowly towards the door.

His arm shot out, fingers curling around her arm as he leaned in closer. "What the fuck did your shithead of a husband say?"

Shannon gasped, "Nothing Richie, He just ... doubted your.....dedication is all but you... but it's ok , I believe you , really I do so...please let me go?"

He felt the rumble in his chest as the words kept growling through him, "Did he tell you I was fucking around on her? I'll fuckin' kill him."

"No, no ok?" She finally got her sense about her and jerked her arm against his grip, "Now will you PLEASE let me go?" she begged, trying to keep the fright out of her voice. He really was just as insane as Mel. No wonder they made such a great fucking couple.

He tugged her closer, his lips moving to her ear, "I'll fuckin' kill him, you hear me. There’s no one but Mellie. She shoulda been here, NOT you. She's been around forever. SHE belongs!"

Shannon squealed when he tightened his grip and yanked her closer. She could smell the vodka's odor rolling off his breath. What was going on? This was not Richie, not the Richie she knew. She shoved against him looking around the empty room wishing someone, anyone was there but all she saw was the empty vodka bottle by the bed and a mess of different things strewn about. She almost missed it in her panic. What was that? Her eyes flitted back to the side table, white powder, in a line... he was...."RICHARD STEPHEN SAMBORA!" she yelled as her fear got doused in burning anger and outrage. This was why he was being so violent! "LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANT YOU ... YOU COKE FIEND!"

He let go suddenly, stumbling back at the fury and fear mixed in her voice, his entire being shuddering. "Aww hell Shay, wouldn't hurt ya." He glanced to where her eyes had honed in on and shrugged. "It's just a teensy bit."

Shannon stepped away quickly heading towards the door. "You wouldn't hurt me? You don't even know WHAT you’re doing! All drunk AND coked up?" She rubbed her wrist and bit her bottom lip shooting him a disheartened even betrayed look. "And here I thought I could help you." She lowered her head and shook it with a sigh. 

He sighed as he settled himself back on the bed, his head dipping in to pull in a long slow inhale of the powder that was keeping the hounds of hell at bay. "You can help. Gimme another bottle, then tell that jackass husband of yours that Mel belongs with me everywhere. Fuck I miss her."

Shannon narrowed her eyes "Get your own god damn bottle!" She spat as she slammed the door.

He shrugged as the door slammed, one hand moving to the phone as he yelled, "I can do that. It’s the one thing IM ALLOWED.”

He spoke into the phone, his eyes on the little bag next to the phone as he grinned. He'd do what he was allowed, to make it through this, otherwise he'd be missing a frontman. Jon  was on his hit list now. Stupid lil wife of his wanting to tell him what to do too? Fuck it all.