Part 8

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The end of a tour was always a huge deal - a massive, over the top celebration. Mick was usually in charge of making sure that the legend of a Fleetwood Mac party lived on. The band, the crew, other famous musicians, all sorts of celebrities were in attendance. Lindsey used to enjoy it. After the last show, after the band said, thank you, to the audience, he could finally breathe out and be sure, they'd done a great job. He didn't have that feeling right now. He wasn't thinking about the next album, he didn't have the need to gather the group and bring them to a studio. He couldn't wait to get out of there and avoid his bandmates for a long while. A year without Fleetwood Mac would be nice, he thought. He didn't want to come in every day and see Christine already wasted, he didn't want to deal with John's attitude. For whatever reason, the two men had never warmed up to each other. He didn't want to drag Mick's high ass in and sit him down behind the drum kit. Most of all, he didn't want to deal with Stevie. By now, he'd seen all sides of her. Or so he believed. But this Stevie, the one, who usually didn't even know where she was most of the time - this was something entirely else. He wouldn't be so mad if he just let her destroy her life, but he tried helping her and she refused. I don't need you, she repeated him over and over again. Well, I don't need you either, he thought as he focused on rolling himself a joint. 

Carol Ann was becoming increasingly more problematic as well. All she was good for was spending Lindsey's hard earned money. Maybe she loved him in her own way, but whatever feelings he may had had for her - they were gone. She was just there, always around. And it annoyed him. He was supposed to love her and all he could think about, when he saw her, was how quickly and how well he could hide from her.

"Can you enjoy yourself for once?" Mick's large hand gripped Lindsey's shoulder, catching his attention. "We're done for now, mate. Have a drink, snort a line, enjoy the entertainment." Mick showed at some scantly dressed female guests. "Do something."

"I'm fine, Mick, thanks. I think, I'll be heading out soon." Lindsey forced a weak smile. "I'm exhausted. All I really want is to go home and finally lie down in my own bed."

"Seriously?" Mick frowned. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing, really." Lindsey shrugged. "Right now, this just isn't my idea of fun."

"Huh." Mick nodded, not really understanding. "Well, at least someone's having a good time." 

Lindsey followed Mick's line of sight and instantly wished he hadn't. Stevie didn't seem to be too heartbroken over her breakup with Jimmy as she slid into Joe Walsh's lap and he looked very pleased with the course the evening had taken. What's with her and that fucking band, Lindsey frowned, is it her personal mission to fuck every single one of the Eagles? 

Mick faced Lindsey and saw the sour expression on his face. "Don't get involved."

"She broke up with Jimmy like a week ago." Lindsey shook his head at the scene unfolding in front of him. "If she weren't as high as a kite, she wouldn't be doing this."

"Well, her best friend just died, Lindsey. She's dealing with the loss the only way she knows how." Mick shrugged, he didn't think it was that big of a deal. 

"Bullshit." Lindsey scoffed. "She keeps doing this and then she gets mad, when she's called a whore."

"Hey." Mick gave him a pointed look. "That's not nice."

"Yeah, but it's true." He gripped his drink tighter in his hand, when he saw Walsh's disgusting mouth on Stevie's. "Can't they get a fucking room?"

"No one's forcing you to look." Mick pointed out. 

It took about thirty seconds for Lindsey to decide. He stood up and pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the pair. "Come on." He said, but it wasn't quite enough to separate the two. "I said, let's go!" He raised his voice, grabbing Stevie's hand at the same time. 

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" She shrieked, pushing at his chest. "What makes you think-"

"You're embarrassing yourself." Lindsey told her, then faced Joe, when he rose to his feet as well. 

"Uh, buddy, you've had your turn."

"I'm not your fucking buddy." For a short second, Lindsey considered punching the other man in the face. It would have felt great, he was sure, but he also knew that he'd be hauled outside and Stevie would be left up for the taking. "I'm taking you home."

"Like hell you are!" Stevie tried freeing herself from his grasp, but his hold on her was too tight. "Let me go, Lindsey!"

"If I have to, I will carry you out of here kicking and screaming." He promised. "But I'm not going to let you be the joke of the industry." Maybe he should have. "You might not give a shit about me, but I do."

He was angry, she could tell. He was boiling mad inside, but somewhere past that, she could see the sincerity in his eyes. Joe attempted to slid his greasy arm around her again, but Stevie pulled away from him and closer to Lindsey. The two men shared an intense look, a small smirk on Lindsey's face. 

"You have two choices." Lindsey said. "Either you spend the rest of the night by my side or I'm taking you out of here."

"Who do you think you are?" Stevie frowned, breathing heavily as they stared at each other. "You're not my friend, you're not my boyfriend, you're not my father. You can't tell me what to do!"

"I'm an idiot." Lindsey shrugged. "I know that. I'm an idiot, who cares about you too much to see you lose control of your life." She remained quiet and he gave her a minute to think. "So, what's it gonna be?"

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