Crocodile Tears: A Boy Meets Girl Story

by Daya Daniels

  She runs her hands over my abs through the T-shirt I’m wearing. When her hand slides beneath the material, I stop her with a laugh. She’s drunk.

  I’d been here already for a half an hour watching Liv dance and the asshole that’s standing a few feet away from us, who is Ari Berg. His eyes lingered on Liv for a little too long, and in a way that tells me he wants to fuck her—if he already hasn’t. My insides twist at the thought and I’m already mentally loading my gun. I take a deep breath when Liv wraps her arms around my waist.

  Cash and Rachel finally make it here. Rachel is now stumbling and giggling, holding onto a woman I’ve never seen. As soon as Cash enters the nightclub, he dumps out the rest of the champagne in his bottle on the floor, then hurls the bottle at a wall off in the corner. It makes a loud crash and the glass goes everywhere. Cash throws his arms up in the air and laughs like the Joker from Batman, as if he’s proud of his work.

  Shit.

  “What the fuck!” Trent shouts, before a few of his security guys rush over to confront Cash.

  You can dress them up, but you can’t take them out.

  “We should go,” I suggest, looking down at Liv and occasionally at the mayhem behind me.

  “Whyyyy?” she whines.

  I was tired and not in the mood for Liv’s drama. I also had no plans to leave her here with Ari still around. Wyatt and Rose left when I arrived. Yandi was off somewhere with her boyfriend.

  “I want to dance a little more,” Liv begs.

  I sigh. “Okay. I’m going outside for a cigarette. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.” She smiles, slipping from my grasp.

  I run a hand through my hair and head out the door, towards the pool. A few people linger around talking around the outside of it, with some swimming fully clothed. I laugh watching them and light the cigarette in my hand, putting my boot up on the wall and an elbow on one knee. I exhale.

  “I thought I’d never get to meet you,” a voice says from behind me.

  I stand straight as Ari Berg walks towards me, extending his hand.

  “Ari Berg.”

  I don’t shake it. “Yeah, I know,” I say disinterested, taking a long draw of my cigarette.

  Ari’s maybe two inches shorter than me but he still clears six feet. He runs a hand over his hair a few times and I wonder why the fuck he’s out here.

  “You work for your father, Ben.”

  “Not in so many words. I work for Tom Stanton.”

  I let out a grunt.

  “College grad, I’m guessing.”

  Ari laughs. “Yeah, Yale actually.”

  “Let me guess like your dad, and his dad...”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  I let out a breath and turn away from him, listening to the chatter a few feet away from where we stand.

  “I just want to say I like this music thing you and the band have going on.”

  “Music thing?” I ask lifting a brow in his direction.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ari says bobbing his head.

  “This music thing has won nine Grammys in three years. I won’t go on to mention the other awards.”

  Ari throws his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that, man.”

  Man?

  I laugh. I don’t know this guy, but I already don’t fucking like him. Ari opens his mouth to speak again.

  “Why are you out here?” I ask angrily before he gets a chance to speak again.

  “Honestly?”

  “Yeah, honestly,” I bark out, taking another draw of my cigarette.

  “Well, I’m worried about Liv being with you.”

  I run a hand over my jaw. “Man, fuck off,” I breathe out with a laugh.

  “Look, I know her parents don’t give a shit about her but I just don’t want to see her get caught up in the mess that is this lifestyle. As long as my father has been working for RR, I’ve seen it happen too many times.

  “I mean, look at your friend in there.” Ari’s voice trails off while he points at the doors that lead back into the club.

  He’s clearly referring to Cash’s stellar behavior.

  I laugh and step towards him. “Who are you to even say any of this shit to me?” I ask, shaking my head nearly laughing. This was fucking hilarious!

  “I’m just a friend of the family.”

  “Liv and I have been together for months and she’s happy.”

  “Is she?” he asks, cocking his head to the side, in a way that makes me want to break his neck and leave it right-in-that-same position.

  I let out a soft laugh and run my hand over the stubble along my jaw.

  “What do you think you know about this lifestyle anyways, old money? You’re some fucking old money, rich kid from where? Let me guess, Connecticut?”

  “Yeah-yeah,” Ari stutters out.

  “Yeah, figures.”

  I have a hard time believing this guy isn’t hard up for Liv.

  “Come on, you know you don’t belong with a girl like Liv. You’ll fucking ruin her, if you haven’t already.”

  I give him a scathing look. “But you do.”

  “No, not necessarily me,” he mumbles nervously, then raises his voice. “What do you plan to do, Presley, seriously. Marry her? Settle down and have kids and leave all this rock ‘n’ roll behind?”

  Maybe.

  He laughs. “Yeah, right.”

  I don’t respond.

  “You can’t give her a life. Liv is sensitive,” he says quietly, looking at the concrete beneath his custom dress shoes. “She’s soft and delicate. She won’t survive you breaking her heart.

  “This is the best I’ve ever seen her but believe me, she has a lot of problems.”

  “Don’t talk about Liv that way,” I bark. “There’s nothing wrong with Liv.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her?” He smiles.

  “Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with her. The only problem Liv has is that she’s been surrounded by assholes most of her life, which I’m sure includes you. Let’s not forget her father.”

  Ari chuckles. “That maybe so but for the record Tom Stanton isn’t exactly one of my favorite people—neither is my father.”

  I scoff and take a long draw of my cigarette.

  “She won’t survive it, Presley, if you leave her.”

  “Berg, get the fuck out of here before I hurt you,” I suggest flippantly.

  “So, you’re threatening me now?” he taunts, while a clever smile spreads across his face. “That, would be assault.”

  I stalk towards him, closing the space between us in only a few strides.

  “Yeah, I’m fucking threatening you!” I roar in his face, snatching him by the shirt collar.

  We grapple for a split second, before three of Trent Marks’ security guys rush over to keep us apart. I snatch my arm from one of them and take a few steps in the other direction. Ari throws his hands up. Eventually, they let him go and he walks off somewhere.

  “Fuckkkk,” I growl.

  When I spin around Cash is standing a few feet away laughing. I run a hand through my hair when he approaches.

  “What the fuck was that, man?”

  “Nothing. It was nothing.”

  “This is a cool fucking party. I’m surprised they let me stay.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “What’s happening to you, Z? You’re so fucking uptight these days.”

  I only shake my head but don’t respond.

  “Even when it comes to the music, now you’re all wishy washy—writing all this bullshit about love.”

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “I know your earnings are substantially more than mine and all the rest of us in the band.”

  “It’s because I write the songs, Cash, because you don’t, even when you promise to. I also have other things going on for myself—that’s another reason. What are you getting at?”

  “Nothing, but I guess it bothers me,” he says in a serious tone, jutting his chi
n out.

  I scoff. “You think I care about money, Cash?”

  He stares at me blankly, which only confirms that he doesn’t-fucking-get-it.

  “Music is my life,” I hiss, digging a finger into the center of my chest. “It’s always been. Without music, I have nothing. Don’t you get that? It’s never been about the fucking money, Cash. That’s something you’ll never understand because you’re always off doing some bullshit, instead of focusing on what you need to be—which is the music. You lack passion.”

  “I lack passion?” he questions, giving me a dumb look.

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “That hurts, man. That really fucking hurts. Fuck you, Z.”

  “Yeah, whatever, man,” I mumble, watching him walk away.

  I light another cigarette, desperately needing this night to end like a bad fucking hangover.

  *****

  An hour later, I still couldn’t find Liv. I searched the club twice and the rest of Trent’s house that was open to guests. She was nowhere to be found and my panic skyrocketed.

  “Did you find her?” Tarver asks.

  “No.”

  “She’s not in the limo,” he confirms.

  I nod.

  Tarver shoves an envelope towards me. “It’s from Cash. He asked me to give this to you.”

  “Yeah,” I say, taking it from him. I shove it in my pocket and continue to scan the area.

  We both stand near the grand entrance of the house looking around. Trent taps me on the shoulder, swaying like a tree in the non-existent wind. “Are you looking for the beautiful bonde-blonde?” he slurs out.

  “Yeah,” I confirm, squinting my eyes at him.

  Trent positions his fingers as though they’re on the trigger of a gun. I follow where his index fingers point. They stop at a limo across the driveway that’s parked near the roundabout. The headlights are on and all the windows are up. It’s just idling there.

  “She hopped in the limo over there that belongs to Ari Berg.”

  I rocket down the stairs and march across the gravelly driveway. All the blood surges to my face and I’m certain I’m about to have a stroke.

  Tarver’s footsteps aren’t far behind.

  Liv

  “Just take care of yourself,” Ari says, sitting in the seat next to me.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I leave tomorrow and will be back at the RR headquarters from then on but you know you can always call—”

  “Get out of the fucking car, Liv!” Zane roars, pulling at the door handle and banging on the roof of the limo.

  I jolt forward in my seat, looking out the window. Zane’s face has morphed into a permanent scowl and his grey eyes are blazing. He’s shouting and banging on the car window, like he’s trying to cave it in.

  “Get out the car, Liv!” he yells, pounding on it with his fists.

  “Paul, don’t move the car,” Ari instructs the man in the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t want you getting out with him acting like this, Liv.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, realizing how drunk I really am. I crawl across the leather seats and reach for the handle. “It’s fine, Ari. He won’t hurt me,” I slur out. “He’s just upset.”

  “What?” Ari’s voice goes up five octaves.

  The banging gets louder and then right when a loud pop explodes through the car, the window cracks straight down the middle. Zane pushes the busted glass forcefully into the car, using his elbow. His arm is covered in blood but it doesn’t stop him.

  “Get out of the fucking car!” he roars, reaching in looking for the latch.

  Paul unlocks the car and falls out of the driver’s side door, crawling away from the vehicle on his ass and hands.

  “What the fuck, man!” Ari yells, scooting across the seat with bulging eyes. “What the fuck are you going?”

  Zane pushes into the car and helps me across the seat dragging me out. His fingers curl around my arm. Rage oozes from him, while his warm blood coats my skin.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “We were just talking.”

  “Let’s go, Liv. I just want to go home.”

  I stand on shaky legs, while Zane hurries me back to our limo. Tarver follows.

  “This is what I’m talking about, Liv!” Ari shouts from far behind us. “Behavior like this! This is exactly what I’m fucking talking about! This crazy shit!”

  My own breathing mixes with Zane’s heavy panting, as we make the way across the shifting gravel beneath our feet to the car.

  “We were just talking,” I explain in a small voice.

  Tarver opens the limo door. Zane guides me in, sliding in right behind me. He’s bleeding all over the place. Once we get inside, he rummages through a bag to find another T-shirt, shreds it and wraps it around his left elbow.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Liv, it’s fine,” he growls out, still breathing hard.

  He hits a button and the privacy window goes up. The vehicle pulls out, away from the mansion slowly and eventually hits the highway. Sleep Baby Sleep by Broods plays on the radio. Zane slumps against the back of the chair, arching his neck up to the roof of the car. He doesn’t speak—only breathes.

  “I’m sorry. We were just talking.”

  His grey eyes lower to meet mine under the semi-darkness. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  Hesitantly, I crawl across the seat towards him in his lap, taking in my white dress that’s now partially stained red. “We were just talking. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I know, Liv.”

  “We were just talking.”

  “I know, Liv,” he repeats.

  I straddle him, wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.

  “I’m sorry, Liv,” he says holding me against his chest.

  I kiss his lips, tasting his mouth and reveling in the feeling of his warm tongue against mine. Zane pulls away from me and blinks slowly. He kisses me again, pressing his forehead into mine. His dark lashes brush his cheeks when he closes them. I press a soft kiss to his eyelid.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  I want to know what he’s thinking but when his grey eyes open slowly to gaze into mine, I think I do.

  “You’ve fucked him, haven’t you?” he questions, giving me a hard stare.

  “Zane,” I breathe out.

  “Liv, tell me.”

  “Y-yes a long time ago.”

  He bobs his head a few times and lets out a mirthless laugh, while I keep his gaze. He guides me out of his lap down to the floor of the car. I back away from him, cautiously taking in his expression while I sit on my haunches. He reaches forward and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, yanking me forward. I yelp at the action. He undoes his zipper with his other hand frantically. I take in his features, which I can’t make out but the anger roiling off him is thick. I feel the beginnings of a CAT-5 hurricane stirring up, and right now, I’m in the eye—where it’s safe and calm.

  “Zane.”

  His eyes flash on me for a moment. He crushes his mouth to mine and breathes heavily against my lips, before guiding me into his lap. I shakily move my hand to wrap around his shaft and take him deep into my mouth.

  “I love you, Liv,” he whispers, twisting his fingers into my hair.

  He controls the speed and depth. I shut my eyes and take him in, feeling his hardness as it moves between my lips and snakes down my hot throat. I moan when I hear his desperate sounds and the growls that vibrate through his chest.

  “Liv,” he moans.

  I look up to meet his eyes, as I run my hand along the length of him with my wet lips. His thighs twitch and his lips curl up into a horny snarl when I release him from my mouth with a pop. I take him in again and focus on the head, running my tongue over it and licking the precum that dribbles down the shaft.

  He grips me hard, forcing me to move faster. I gag and choke but he doesn’t stop. I whimper at the forceful act. All the while two of his fin
gers brush over my cheek lovingly, encouraging me to go on. Zane groans and scoots forward in the chair, pulling me closer. My face is covered in wetness and my lips are swollen. He jerks deep inside my mouth, filling it with everything he has until it’s overflowing.

  I’m forced to crane my neck up to look up into his blazing eyes. My mouth is full of warm viscous liquid that tastes salty and sweet on the tongue. I slow blink and wriggle my body away from him, while still on my knees. He holds on to the nape of my neck and clutches one of my wrists, keeping me in his firm grasp.

  “Swallow. It,” he demands.

  I stare at him for a long moment and then, I do, while he watches me intently with those eyes. A groan escapes his throat when I lick my lips, making sure I don’t leave a drop behind. He lowers himself to his knees and kisses me, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth, stealing my breath away.

  “You’re mine, Liv,” he rasps out, holding my chin between two of his fingers, caressing it softly.

  I only nod, certain I don’t want to belong to anyone else.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Liv

  I scrub my face with my hands, preparing to open my laptop. I look fresh but I’m tired after being up all night, while Zane plowed into me, like he was in the throws of some sort of rage fuck. I take another deep breath and gulp down a bit more coffee. After this call ends, I have every intention of going back to bed.

  A few minutes later, Amanda Kipton’s face pops up on the screen, after I make the call using Skype.

  She peers into the camera, backs away and smiles. “Hello, Liv.”

  “Hi.”

  “Las Vegas, huh?” Amanda asks, peering closer to get the view behind me.

  “That’s nice, very nice. I wish I was there.”

  No, you don’t. I give her a small laugh.

  “Well,” she says placing her hands firmly in front of her. “I understand why you weren’t upfront about who you are.” She smiles. “But let’s not have such secrecy moving forward, agreed?”

  “Yes.” I giggle.

  “We love your work and so do our buyers. I especially love the portfolio of the woman.”

  “Charvi—she’s a friend of mine.”

  “We love that. We also really love the collection of the woman in lingerie in front of the vanity in different poses.” Amanda smiles. “Who is that?”