CHAPTER 10

 

 

Knox

 

 

 

The lights go dark as screaming and applause crowd over us like lightning and thunder. Satisfaction soothes my itchy nerves. The show went great, much better than I expected. Ajia didn’t fucking show up until less than thirty minutes before we went on, and nobody else in the band is talking to me.

But once we got on stage together, all that shit fell away.

I hand my guitar to Bobby, the only guy I trust with it besides myself. He takes care of all my shit.

“Great job.” He smacks me on the back.

“Thanks, man.”

I head off stage, glancing to where Bree usually sits. She was there tonight with London, but they’re gone now. Probably waiting in the green room, where it’s safe. Well, safer. Backstage is chaos, just like it always is. We’re coming off, Edge of Reason is going on, roadies and equipment people are racing around, and fans who got passes are everywhere.

It’s always the same, and I usually play the game. Sometimes I even like it, but not tonight.

Everything’s just too screwed up right now.

I don’t need to go over it, like some stupid to-do list. All I need are names. Bree. Gabe. Ajia. Zayne. Well, the whole fucking band.

And London.

Jesus. I’ve been thinking about her for two days. Wanted to see if a second time could be as good as the first, but shit’s been going down and I’ve been busy. Now I’m harder and hornier than I’ve been in a long time. The memory of being with her makes me want to come again.

Hell, I had to stroke one off in the shower just thinking about her. She let me fuck her against the door, she went down on me better than any blow job I ever had, and I came so hard I thought my head would explode.

All without even thinking of a condom.

What the fuck?

That part still screws with my head. Yeah, we’re both clean, and she’s on birth control, but it was still goddamn reckless. I might be a lot of things—bossy, demanding…asshole—but I’m not irresponsible. I take shit like fatherhood and family seriously.

Good and bad.

So, yeah, it’s reassuring that we’re safe, but it doesn’t let me off the hook for not making sure.

“Knox!”

Some chick screams my name, and other screams follow. I sigh to myself and step out from the shadows. Zayne and Rye are surrounded by a group of fans, and a couple of girls peel themselves away to race for me.

“Knox! God, I love you!” They grab for my arms and pull.

“Hey, ladies, watch the merchandise!” I pretend to laugh and raise my hands in surrender. Before we were famous, this shit sounded so cool. And at first, it gave me a real surge of sexual energy. Hot chicks eager to bang us. Blow jobs a dime a dozen. I’ve shared girls and watched every one of my bandmates while they’re fucking. They’ve seen me.

Now, it’s all intrusive and irritating. I like to invite women into my personal space, not be mauled by them.

The thought sends me back to memories of London, about how I practically mauled her…and she welcomed me. She gave me what I needed, and then she seduced me with her mouth, her hands, her pussy. She was everything I needed, and I can’t stop thinking about fucking her again.

The girls around me laugh and settle down, but they still want to be close. Touch. I force myself to tolerate it with a smile, because I know it’s expected of me. Especially with Noah and Ajia nowhere to be seen. That fucker Ajia is probably already in the green room with my sister.

I start walking in that direction, and my little minions are right there with me. The others follow with Zayne and Rye, and then we’re in the green room with everybody else. The door closes behind me as I hear the first notes of Edge of Reason’s set. It reminds me where we are, who we are, and a new burst of energy races through me.

Knox Gallagher, lead guitarist of Wycked Obsession. Cocky rock god, London teased me. I got this shit.

The crowd moves around us like a living organism, and I’m not sure if it psyches me up or pisses me off. It’s too early in the tour to be pissed, so I try to let it all flow around me and search the room while pretending that these fangirls matter somehow. And they do, in the overall scheme of things. They’re fans, and I love that about them. But they don’t own me—and I don’t want to fuck them.

I give them my music, everything I have when I’m on stage. The rest of it…well, it’s only been a couple of years of relative success, but I’m already jaded. Maybe it’s my need for things to go my way, and this part of fame makes me feel real out of control.

Or maybe it’s the rest of it. The thing with Gabe pissed me off, but the rumors about Bree and the band really pushed me over the edge. Plus, being with London totally screwed with my head. It was better than a year’s worth of sex with a different groupie every night.

Blinking, I look again and find her standing with Ajia and Bree across the room. They’re huddled in a corner behind the crafts table, looking like they’re in serious conversation. Hope she’s chewing Ajia’s ass out for taking off like he did, leaving us all wondering what the hell was going on.

Fuck you, asshole. The voice that never lets me lie to myself speaks up with its typically confrontational attitude. It’s the one way I know I can hold myself accountable. You know what’s going on, and don’t act like you had nothing to do with it.

It’s true. I maybe don’t know exactly what happened to Ajia years ago or how it all went down. I only know that he had to come clean with my sister. Bree deserves better than him keeping secrets from her, and so I pushed him to do something. Maybe the way I handled forcing him to tell Bree shit wasn’t nice or fair. I don’t give a shit! I’m not abandoning my sister to some lying player like Ajia Stone.

As much as I hate the idea, if she’s going to make the choice to be with him, then it better be after she knows everything.

So why the hell does he have his arms around her now?

“You’re so hot, Knox!” One of the fangirls squirms a little closer and leans in to whisper, “You make me…wet.”

Why the fuck can’t they ever tell me they like the way I play the guitar? They never do. It’s always about me and my dick.

And why not? asks that pissy voice inside me. Isn’t that the way you’ve always treated them? Ever since you got fucked over by Farren, you’ve made it your mission to return the favor to every girl you meet. What did you expect?

And why didn’t I ever think about any of this shit until the rumors about Bree?

“Thanks a lot, honey.” I don’t know how else to respond to the chick.

“You got any plans for later?”

Fuck. I know where this is going. A few days ago, I might have been all over it. Her. Now…not.

“Hadn’t really thought about it yet.”

“I’m free.” She slides one hand up my chest to my shoulder. “We could find a quiet place and—”

“I hate to interrupt your little…rendezvous, but you’re wanted elsewhere, Romeo.”

London’s voice comes from behind the crowd around me, thick with irritation. Does that mean she’s been thinking about fucking me again, too?

“English.” I give her a lazy smile. “What’s up, baby?”

The chick pressing herself against me shoves her hip against mine and tries to get closer. It isn’t possible. “Who the fuck is this?” she demands.

I don’t answer, and London all but ignores the fan, too. “Band meeting,” she says shortly. “Mandatory. Ajia’s room. He and Bree are going on ahead. Get the others.”

She spins around and stalks away. Pissed. No doubt about it.

Interesting. I swallow a grin, the first real smile that’s even tempted me in a while.

“Sorry, honey.” I extricate myself from the clingy chick. “Gotta go. Duty calls and all that shit.”

“But…I thought…” She sounds kind of screechy.

I shrug. “Thanks for coming out, honey. Enjoy Edge of Reason’s show.” And then I walk away without a backward glance.

 



 

The limo ride to the hotel is silent. Nobody says a word. London sits across from me, her arms crossed over her chest like some disapproving mother with a carful of brats. She’s dressed in a ruffly black skirt and white lacy tank top with thin little straps, and somehow looks both hot and conservative. It’s all I can do to keep myself from shoving my hands up her legs to her pussy so I can find out if she’s wet under that skirt.

Another time, another woman, I’d have done it. It wouldn’t make a bit of difference if the rest of the band was here or not.

It’s all different now.

The ride to our hotel is relatively short. We ignore the shouts, the cameras, and the crowd itself as hotel security escorts us straight to the elevator. Still, nobody says a word until I pound on Ajia’s door.

“Open up!”

Ajia lets us in. I step back for London to go first but follow right on her heels. Noah’s just behind me.

Bree’s propped up on the bed. “You doing okay, baby girl?” Noah asks as he walks over.

“Of course.” She smiles, the first I’ve seen from her in a couple of days. “I didn’t get to tell y’all at the venue. It was a great show!”

Noah climbs onto the bed and pulls her next to him, one arm around her shoulders. I recognize the way he smirks at Ajia. Noah likes to stir up shit, and he wants to get a response out of our singer. He’s shit out of luck. Ajia just skirts to the other side of the bed and scoots up next to Bree on the opposite side.

The rest of us shift around the room. Rye takes the soft chair, Zayne stretches out on the floor, and London sits at the desk. I perch on the top. Nobody says anything until Noah laughs.

“Well, look at this. We got ourselves a Bree sandwich.”

“Different for you, huh?” She laughs back.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re usually with two girls. I guess that makes you the meat in that sandwich.”

Bree’s face goes bright red, and there’s a moment of weird silence. Everybody is trying not to laugh, and it pisses me off. Royally. Being on the road with us, she’s learning too much sexy shit.

“Shut up, you fuckers,” she laughs, and the rest of them join in. Even London.

Traitors.

I let my irritation settle over my expression and spread a fierce look around the room. “Okay, Pipes.” I glance at Ajia. “You wanted a fucking band meeting. We’re here.”

 “I called the meeting,” says London, sounding all prickly. She doesn’t look at me. “This kind of thing is my responsibility, and we need to talk about what’s going on and plan some strategies.”

I tighten my mouth, but it’s Rye who asks, “Strategies about what?”

“Well, we have a couple of things to explain.” She touches the screen on her tablet. “First, we need to talk about Ajia’s unexpected trip to Austin.”

“It was personal,” says Bree.

Ajia kisses her head with a smile. “No, it’s not a secret. Not anymore.”

He waits a minute before he continues. “I was in a car accident as a kid. Fifteen, back when I was invincible.” He lets out kind of a choked-sounding laugh that bugs me. Don’t tell me he’s after sympathy here. I don’t have time to think about it, because he’s talking again.

“It was bad. The friends with me…two were hurt, and one died.” He shrugs. “I’ve never really gotten over it and carried a shitload of guilt over it. I had to…clean that up.”

Clean it up? I snort. How do you clean up killing someone?

London only nods. “Any reason you had to go now, mid-tour?”

Ajia grabs my sister’s hand suddenly. “Bree and I are together. It’s not a one-night stand, and we’re not fucking around.” He glares at me. “Our relationship isn’t open for discussion.”

There isn’t a thing I can say about it—now—and that asshole knows it. So, what? Am I just supposed to accept the fact that my sister’s with this guy?

“About fucking time,” says Noah, and I know I’m in the minority here.

“What?” Zayne pops up from the floor and looks around like he just joined the human race. “You two are fucking?” My jaw clenches as he points at Ajia and Bree.

“Among other things,” says Ajia.

“Huh.” He shakes his head. “So she’s your…girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” says Rye. “You killed too many brain cells, Zayne. Ajia said they’re together.”

“Right.” Zayne nods. “Together—as in girlfriend.”

“Right,” agrees Ajia.

I watch the others, and we all exchange a stiff, what-the-fuck look. It’s got nothing to do with Ajia and Bree, and maybe the only thing we can all agree on right now. It’s Zayne. He’s still messed up. Whatever’s going on with him, it’s not getting better. I glance at London.

We’ll talk about this later.

She nods as though she understands.

“The truth is half-assed out there,” says Ajia, letting Zayne off the hook for the moment. “At least the questions are. We haven’t confirmed or denied. Correct?” He looks at London.

“Correct. Although you gave a pretty good indication of how things are in the green room tonight.”

“What happened?”

“Fuck, Knox, you were there.” It’s Bree who snaps at me. “Too interested in your groupies to notice anything else? Ajia kissed me.”

“Is that all?” I don’t like it, but it could be a hell of a lot worse.

“You should have been paying attention,” London says calmly. “In this case, it’s enough.”

“I was there.”

London shakes her head stiffly. “Maybe physically. But your bloody attention wasn’t. A few too many groupies for you to concentrate?”

What the fuck? I remember then when she came up to me in the green room.

I hate to interrupt your little rendezvous, but you’re wanted elsewhere, Romeo.

She sounded pissed. Don’t tell me she’s…jealous.

No way.

Ajia’s saying something that I miss, but I tune in to London’s answer.

“Being a typical Texas man, you couldn’t wait. For anything. You had to go to Austin immediately, come back just in time for the concert, and then make out with Bree like you hadn’t seen her in a damn year.”

“Well, yeah.” Gotta admire Ajia for the way he ignores London’s sarcasm, even though his attitude pisses me off. “Bree helped me see it’s time for me to find a way to put the accident shit behind me, so I took the first step.”

“All right.” London takes a quick breath. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Besides the fact that Knox is pissed Ajia and I are together?” Bree asks.

“Is that true?” London looks at me, but she already knows the answer.

My sister won’t let it go. “You tell me. He told me things about Ajia—about the accident—in the worst possible way, hoping it would end things. It didn’t, and he’s been pouting ever since.”

“I’m not pouting.” My look ought to incinerate anybody in a fifty foot radius.

“Oh, you’re pouting, man,” laughs Noah, but his expression is hard. “It was a dick fucking move to say that shit to Bree, and now you’re twice as pissed. One cause they’re together at all—” he points at her and Ajia “—and two because you couldn’t break ‘em up.”

“Well, we aren’t going to share any of that,” London says quickly, before I can tell him what a dumbass he is. He doesn’t know shit, and—

“And in public,” she adds, cutting off my thoughts, “you’re going to act like it’s the best thing that’s happened all tour.”

“Fuck me,” I snap coldly. “Bree is my sister, and—”

“And she’s an adult,” London interrupts with a  frown. “Unless you want fans to be worried about problems within the band, you’re going to act happy as fuck that your sister and your best friend are a couple. Got it?”

The room falls silent we stare at each other. I can damn near see the tension crackle between us, and at that moment, the only thing I want more than to walk out of the room is to fuck her.

I take a breath and nod. “Understood.”

“Good.” She glances around. “Anything else?”

Nobody else answers, and so I push off the desk. “Mom’s divorcing Gabe.” I don’t look at anyone when I say it.

“When did she tell you that?” Bree’s pressed against Ajia’s chest, her eyes suddenly watery.

“This morning.”

“And you didn’t tell me until now?”

“You knew it was coming.” I’m not accusing her or anything, but it’s true. “You had to expect it, after you fucking told her about him.”

Ajia and Bree whisper to each other, while London glares at me.

“Details, please.” She doesn’t sound like she’s in an encouraging mood, all of a sudden.

I don’t say a word, and it’s Rye who finally answers. “Bree’s stepdad was hitting on her.”

“Okay.” She nods briskly. “More personal stuff. Not going there, either.” She stands, like we’re all a bunch of kids, and she’s dismissing us. “Let me do a little work. I’ll see what I can put together for strategies, and let’s meet again in the morning. We’ll start our own campaign and direct attention to where we want it.”

“Thanks, London.” Bree smiles

She smiles back. “Hey, you’re stuck with me now. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”

“Great!” crows Noah as he climbs to his feet. “Welcome to the family! Looks like you got yourself a sister in crime, baby girl.”

“It’s about time.” She laughs.

“And it’s about time for the rest of you fuckers to get out of here. I wanna be alone with my girl.”

The others laugh as we crowd toward the door. I don’t see anything funny about it at all, but Rye shoves me out the door all the same.

“Night, kiddies. Sleep tight.” Noah laughs and heads down the hall like the shit-stirrer he is.