Rise: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance (Rock God Book 1)

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Rise: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance (Rock God Book 1) Page 11

by Cassandra Robbins


  “It’s true, he’s a dick.” Gia smiles at the waitress. “Here, I got some great ones,” she says, handing the phone back.

  “Thank you.” She turns as three other waitresses come in with our food.

  “Can we—” I stop them because this is how it starts.

  “How about you let me eat with my girl and I’ll take pictures and sign shit on the way out.”

  “Thank you, Granger.” They all start giggling and grab each other’s arms as they walk out. A bunch of people peek in, but so far it looks like we might be able to eat without being interrupted.

  I hold the chair out for Gia who has that look on her face again. “Let’s just eat.”

  “Thank God, I’m famished.” She sits and grabs an onion ring from my plate. “Shoot, I was going to ask for ranch dressing, but I can’t handle any more of your fans.”

  “Agreed.”

  She completely ignores her fruit and toast and picks up the cheeseburger.

  “Cured of your vegetarianism?” I raise an eyebrow at her. She’s fantastic, even though I want to strangle her.

  She waves her hand in front of her face. “Please. I would never be a vegetarian. I love meat.” My cock jumps as she turns pink but continues, “I just hate you ordering for me, that’s all.”

  For a moment, I let that register. I’m so used to doing things my way, but she’s right. No one ever tells me no.

  “You’re right,” reaching for the Tabasco to dump on my onion rings.

  She stops eating for a second and picks up her coffee. “You know you could slow down, Rhys. Everything moves so fast with you.” Her eyes dip to my plate, which now only contains onion rings. I ate the burger in three bites.

  “And I get it, I really do. You’re trying to stay one step ahead of all this.” She motions to the room with her hands. “But if all you’re doing is racing to get to the finish line, you’ll only keep things growing bigger: your music, concerts, fans.”

  She sets down her coffee and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Do you ever get to be you anymore, or are you really the Rock God now?”

  I lean back as if she’s gut punched me. I’ve never actually put into words how I’ve been living, because I thought it was way too complicated for anyone to understand. Yet she summarized it while sipping coffee.

  “I’ve been running for a lot of years. I’d like to think that there is still a piece of the real me left. Having you here…” I pick up the highball glass and gaze at the amber liquor as my mind drifts. “Having you around centers me.” I toss back the whole double shot of Jack Daniel’s, barely even tasting it.

  She takes a breath then picks up her burger. “Speaking of the real you, maybe you should call your mom?”

  I lean back in the chair. “That’s something that’s not up for discussion.”

  “She’s sick, but she loves you.” She sets down her burger.

  I shake my head. My mom and anything to do with her is something I try to avoid. “I give her money, bought her a fantastic house in Brentwood that she refuses to move into. I’ve had my fill of doctor calls and updates. So…” I grab the other shot and down it, breathing out the fumes as I look around for the waitress to get me another.

  “Now I guess it’s up to her.” I slam the glass down.

  “It’s not your fault. There’s no reason for you to pretend she doesn’t exist.” Her green eyes are filled with compassion, only she has zero idea what my mom was—is—really like.

  She doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a child, scared and alone, watching your mom fall apart. The true hell of seeing her become someone you don’t recognize. That is the real me. That is my pain. It’s all consuming and rather unforgiving.

  I was the child, yet I spent my first eighteen years taking care of her. Lived in fear, in terror of becoming like her. Christ, I’m happy when I wake up and find I’m still me.

  Highs and lows, exhausting and painful. “Yes, she’s definitely sick, always has been. It’s too bad she won’t stay on her medication.” I stand up and grab my cigarettes. “I’m gonna go smoke, and we need to get back. You should take a nap.”

  “Rhys?” She stands also. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “What, Gia?” I lean down. “Drop it. I have a show in four hours.” Then I leave her and walk into the main dining room.

  “Granger. Dude, welcome to Minnesota.” A couple to my right jump up with a pen and a napkin. I smile and start signing autographs. They love me, and I let them heal me.

  Gone is the terrified boy.

  In his place is a god. I laugh and take pictures.

  This is what I do.

  This is me.

  How dare she remind me? I’m at peace not visiting my mom. The pain and emotional agony are too much to handle, especially because she could get help and won’t. I’ve begged her so many times. Sent the best doctors to her house.

  It’s been five years since I’ve seen her. I went home to surprise her for her birthday. The house was a pit. No one should have to live in such filth, yet there she was, lying in bed with no sheets or blankets, unable to get up, and staring at a wall. The smell from her, along with the numerous drugs, was the last straw. I called Rafe and he brought in the best doctors. I even stayed and missed things I had to do with the band to help her. But as soon as she was admitted to that hospital, she was complaining about how she hated the way the medication made her feel.

  And that was the last straw. I haven’t been back since. I pay people to come in and clean. I pay people to give her meds that she refuses. Some wounds are yours and yours alone. They own you, and you let them live inside you, fueling you, making sure you never have to see or be near that wound again.

  “Rhys?” I turn and focus on Gia. She has her bag and holds my phone as she pushes her way to my side.

  “I’m sorry.” Her eyes blink back tears as if she understands my demons. She can’t. No one can.

  “Let’s go.” She takes my hand. She has the softest skin, like whipped cream. I almost laugh—she has no idea how deep my agony goes or what she’s entering into.

  Why do all the girls cry around you? At seven she knew. She should remember I’m no good. It’s not like I’ve changed. If anything, I’ve only gotten worse.

  GIA

  Past – Eighteen years old

  Chicago, Illinois

  I take one last look at myself, knowing tonight is the night. I’ve never looked or felt better. In the last week, they’ve included me in all of the band’s meetings and sound checks. I’ve taken incredible photos of all the cities and numerous shots of the band.

  I blink at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a red silk halter dress, black leather jacket, and killer black heeled boots. I’ve pinned my hair back, and other than my red lips, I wear light makeup.

  Taking a step back, I decide to add my large gold hoop earrings.

  There. This has to do it. If Rhys Granger doesn’t fuck me tonight, then I’ve definitely lost my touch. We landed in Chicago last night, and I thought for sure he was going to make a move, but he seemed perfectly happy laughing and listening to me tell stories.

  What the hell? I know he wants me. His eyes devour me when I enter a room. He makes sure I’m not hanging out with anyone but him, but he hasn’t touched me. He can’t still be upset with me for confronting him about Christie, his mom, can he?

  Frustrating.

  I tried my hand at seducing him, but Rafe interrupted us right when I started. Maybe our timing is off.

  Whatever, tonight is the night. It has to be. Because I’m pretty sure my mom is on to me. The only person I still need to shoot is Rhys. Maybe that’s how I seduce him? That, and don’t mention Christie.

  God, that’s absurd. It can’t be because of his mom, right? It’s almost like a control thing with him. I apply more lipstick and rub my lips together. Besides pinning a sign to my forehead with an arrow pointing to my lips saying kiss me, this is the best I can do.

  Maybe
I should bribe a hotel employee so that I can slip into his room and wait for him naked. Or maybe I’ll do the Pretty Woman thing and wear a tie and heels. That way he’d laugh and fuck me.

  “This is it,” I tell my image. I’ve been touring almost three weeks with them, and my loan from Julianna is getting low, not to mention her constant phone calls reminding me that school starts in two weeks and that she’s fairly confident he doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend.

  To add more to my plate, it’s almost Christmas, and my mom is insisting I show up at her house for at least a day or two.

  Pressure. Jesus, he’s got to take the bait tonight. I’m becoming paranoid that pictures of us have been leaked and my brother is hiding, waiting to kill Rhys, which is stupid.

  “Oh God,” I groan. The loud bang on my door breaks me out of my funk.

  Grabbing my bag, which holds my camera and pretty much all of my life, I sling it over my shoulder and take a breath.

  Let’s do this.

  “Hey, Toby.” I swing my hotel door open. Toby is Rafe’s assistant. He’s a great guy with bright red hair and cute freckles. He’s around six feet and weighs maybe a hundred-and-fifty pounds, making him look like he’s still in high school. The guy is freaking skinny, and I think he’s maybe twenty-six or something, but every time we all go out, he’s the first to get carded.

  Whatever, he’s great, and if he can survive Rafe, he’s got to be amazing.

  “So, Granger wants you.”

  My stomach flips and I clear my throat. “Fantastic.” We head toward the lobby. Toby’s easy to be around, another thing I like about him. He’s always bringing me coffee when I’m shooting the guys. He doesn’t have to, but still, I appreciate it since it’s keep up or be left behind in their world.

  “Oh, come the fuck on…really, Toby?” I almost drop my bag but it has my camera, so I stop and let it hang for effect. Rafe is standing at the exit in his stupid suit messing around on his phone.

  “Sorry, Gia, he wants to ride with us to the United Center.” His face turns red, so I don’t say more. It’s obvious he feels bad.

  I roll my eyes and walk up to Rafe and stand there waiting. Like the arrogant ass he is, he keeps typing, ignoring us even though I’ve completely invaded his space.

  “Hey, Rafe, haven’t—” He holds his finger up and I swear to God, I want to kick him with my heeled boot. I look at Toby who is busy looking at his phone, so I swing my bag back onto my shoulder and start to walk out, only for Rafe to grab me.

  “The car’s over here.” He keeps hold of my arm as if I’m a hostage or something. I don’t even care. The faster I get into the car, the quicker I’ll be at the concert.

  A driver jumps out. Of course, Rafe would want a limo. I don’t recognize this driver; he must be for Rafe only. He gives me a nod as I slide in.

  “Wow,” I say, looking over at three women with dresses so short you can see their crotches as they sit giggling with champagne.

  “Gia, I want you to meet Vivian, Barbie, and Brittany.” Rafe slides in. Poor Toby looks pale; his freckles are really popping in the limo’s light. He sits next to the girls while Rafe sits next to me.

  Fantastic.

  I don’t engage, but nod and put my big bag between us as the limo takes off.

  “So, how are the pictures coming?”

  I sigh. Whatever game he’s playing, he’s gonna be disappointed. I have a one-track mind tonight.

  “Fabulous.” Turning to look out the dark window, I watch as the limo speeds up to get on the freeway.

  “I need to take a look at them since you’ll be leaving us soon. I mean, you will be needing to go back to Berkeley, and with Christmas, I need to book your ticket.”

  My eyes narrow and I slowly turn to glare at him.

  He sits looking like he might be a king or something. His suit is perfect, his beard, even his skin looks perfect.

  We have mostly avoided each other, besides the one afternoon I begged him to let me take photos of him. Other than that, I like him best when I don’t see him.

  “Actually, I still have to photograph Rhys, and you don’t need to worry about getting me a ticket home.”

  Prick, asshole… My mind gets cut off in the middle of its rant.

  “No, I insist. You’ve had ample time to get Granger, so I’ll be needing to see all photos. How does Thursday work for you? I’d let you have the jet, but we’ll be needing it. So, Toby?”

  “Yes, Rafe?” Toby sits up with his phone out.

  “Book Gia on first class and send her the confirmation.” He turns to me. “That will give you time to spend the rest of the holidays with your brother and mother.” He smiles, turns to the champagne, and pours himself a glass.

  “I’d offer you some”—he holds up the gold bottle of Cristal—“but of course, you’re not of age and all.”

  I smile and reply, “What about Toby? He’s of age?” If Rafe wants to be a fucking piece of shit, then I’ll be the biggest bitch.

  His eyes narrow. “Toby. Can I get you a glass?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Toby sits back in the shadows as one of the blondes slither over to sit on Rafe’s lap.

  Her perfume is like a flower garden was planted next to us. For the life of me, I will never understand why people douse themselves. “Relax, baby girl.” He chuckles as his strong hand strokes her leg. “Save all this for Granger. You, too, Barbie. He wants both of you tonight.”

  My eyes dart to his, but he’s sucking on the blonde’s neck as if I’m not even here. I have to get out of this car. A wave a nausea comes over me. I can’t lose it, or he’ll know he got to me. Just because he says these skanks are for Granger does not mean it’s true, I tell myself over and over.

  I take a deep breath and try not to gag on all the perfume and stare out the window. I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my life. I’m also ready to cry, and I would rather jump in front of a train than cry because Rafe is a bully.

  Actually, I wish he was a bully. Bullies are weak. Rafe is smart and calculating. He’s mean, like a cobra waiting to strike.

  “Do you, Gia?” My eyes jerk to Rafe’s amused ones as if he knows that his diabolical plan is working on me.

  “What? I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind and wasn’t listening.” I stick my nose in the air, beyond grateful that my voice didn’t crack.

  He smiles and I see a flash of his eyes in the surrounding lights as the limo pulls into the United Center.

  “Actually, it was Barbie who wanted to know if you like to party.” His voice is dry, almost flat sounding.

  “What?”

  “Party. Of course, I’d need Toby to have you sign an NDA like they did if you want to join them with Granger tonight.”

  I blink at him as my eyes shift to the others. The girls look intrigued. Toby is the only one who rubs his forehead as if he wants to be anywhere but here.

  I swallow, then smile. “Thank you, but no. I’m busy tonight.”

  “Ah. Well, then you have fun, Gia. You look stunning tonight.” It’s almost like he’s got some weird way of controlling time. Because just as he says it, the limo stops and the door opens to a bunch of screaming people.

  So, of course, he gets the last word.

  “Think about it, beautiful,” one of the girls murmurs. “Granger is truly a god in bed. He can take care of all of us. And when he’s busy with one of them, I can make you see stars.” She winks and slides out. Too stunned to move, I sit there.

  Holy fuck.

  I just got propositioned by a groupie… who fucks Rhys… and signed an NDA. I’m going to throw up.

  “Gia? Sweetheart, we need to move.” Rafe looks down into the limo at me.

  He knows. I see it, feel it, he knows that he’s affected me. “You go ahead. I have to make a call.”

  Please God, make this monster leave, please, I chant in my head.

  “Gia?”

  I look at him.

  “You wanted to play, now le
t’s go.” He holds out his hand, and I stare at it. This is my moment—I can choose to fight or leave.

  I take his hand and slide out. I have no choice.

  I always fight.

  RHYS

  Past – Twenty-seven years old

  Chicago, Illinois

  “Granger, you want some?” Nuke pounds his chest like Tarzan. “That, my friend, is good shit.” He grabs a groupie and sticks his tongue down her throat.

  I shake my head. As I bring the bottle of Jack to my lips, cold hands slither up my T-shirt and touch my chest.

  “Rock God.” Fumes billow from her mouth like a Harley starting up.

  “I will suck your cock so good. Ask Nuke about me and my deep throating,” Tea says, her voice sultry. Her enlarged lips look like she recently got a fresh dose of collagen.

  “Wipe your nose.” I mutter. She pulls back.

  “What’s your deal, man? Do you like dick or something?” She stomps her high-heeled foot. I couldn’t care less.

  “Yep, you found me out, Tea.” I refuse to engage with junkies. The truth is, a month ago she would have worn me down and I would have let her blow me. Now I only want Gia.

  “God, you’re an asshole!” She spins around, I’m sure looking for Nuke, but Nuke’s moved on. It might not be nice or even healthy.

  Fact.

  We all move on. None of us can stay in any sort of real relationship. Actually, that’s not true. My brothers—that’s who I’m in a relationship with. Which is why the Brat should never have shown up.

  She’s crashed her way into my life, no hesitating.

  Fearless.

  She gets what she wants. What I didn’t factor in was that she was right. Gia makes me feel. When I’m with her, I’m me, the good and the bad.

  I take a swig from the bottle. Why am I worried about her? I’m the one who will be destroyed when she walks away.

  And she will.

  This is the time where I should actually take Tea or any groupie and fuck them. Just be done with this song and dance we’re playing. Strike first, fast, and lethal.

  Instead, I’ll feed my craving, this insatiable hunger that grows every day.

 

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