Clash

by Belle Aurora

  Pearl nodded. “You’ve finally grown into your latex panties, Emmy.”

  Taking a sip of my smoothie, I flung Pearl the bird and she laughed.

  That was when the woman on the television spoke and when we heard what she said, we stilled.

  “Concern for Connor Clash after a bizarre interview surfaced yesterday in which he looked to be under the influence. The interview was terminated after Clash, who has openly spoken about his previous issues with substance abuse, was acting erratic and remained unable to answer the simplest of questions.”

  My heart lurched and, placing my glass in the sink, I walked away and hid out in my room in pure Emmy style.

  Coward.

  After a moment, my door opened and Ettie stood there, her expression apprehensive. “You need to see this.”

  There was something in her tone that told me whatever had happened was serious so, without another word, I stood and moved back into the kitchen.

  “She needs to see for herself, Cher,” Beth said gently.

  Cherry shook her head, looking tense. “It’s not her problem. Like he hasn’t hurt her enough. She’s gonna see this and be fucked up all over again.”

  When they noticed me there, Pearl held the remote and stated, “It’s up to you, Emmy, but I warn you, it’s not pretty.”

  My gut dipped.

  I nodded. “Show me.” My voice was barely there.

  Pearl hesitated a second before she hit play. And there he was. He looked as beautiful as the day I left him but his eyes were bloodshot and hooded, and his gaze looked to be bleak.

  Dammit, Connor. What are you doing?

  He was high.

  The interviewer was a familiar man in his thirties. It was the DJ I knew to be Louis Smalls. He was popular which guaranteed this interview going viral.

  Great.

  “So,” Louis started, “I guess I’ll start by congratulating you on your new album.” He held up Left Turn’s new album, Faded Black, and I smiled inwardly, because even though Connor had broken my heart, I still loved them and was proud of their achievements. “What can you tell me about it? What inspires you?”

  “Well,” Connor began, and his voice was rough, “you know, Louis, I guess it’s a big deal, because—” He swallowed hard, seeming to lose track of his answer. “—yeah. I mean…” He swayed in the swivel chair then ran a hand down his face. “Shoot. I’m a little tired, man. Sorry.”

  My stomach began to ache and, slowly, I lifted my hands to hug myself around the waist.

  Louis Smalls, ever the professional, took it on the chin. “No problem, man. You just stopped touring, so I get it. Tell me, how did it go—”

  But Connor cut him off. “You ever been in love, Louis?”

  A pause then Louis laughed. “I’m married, Connor.” When Louis’s eyebrows furrowed, he did it smiling, and I could see he was wondering what the hell was happening. “What about you, man? You ever been bitten by the love bug?”

  Connor took in a deep breath then exhaled. He picked up the glass of water and tried to sip at it but he missed his mouth. Water spilled into his lap and he muttered, “Fuck.” He wiped the water away, and Louis handed him some napkins, to which Connor lifted them in thanks. “We got a spill down aisle four, Louis.” Connor laughed to himself.

  Oh no.

  It was worse than I thought.

  Louis attempted to laugh it off. “Are you okay, man?”

  To which Connor responded a cryptic, “I had no choice, you know? I thought about it and… Yeah.” He mumbled, “Worst day of my life.”

  Louis looked toward the camera and shook his head.

  Connor kept going. “I didn’t want to love her.” He tapped a crooked finger to his chest. “She got in there, man.” He groaned abruptly and ran both his hands down his cheeks. “Now I can’t fucking sleep without seeing her face.”

  Louis was good at his job and rolled with it. “We’ve all been there, Clash.”

  “Not me.” Connor shook his head slowly. “Not me, man.”

  “What’s her name, Connor?”

  And my gut dipped.

  Don’t you say it.

  “Her name?” Connor blinked slowly and at his silence, I calmed myself.

  What did I care?

  It wasn’t me. It couldn’t be.

  The silence lasted a while and I relaxed a little.

  And then Connor slammed a fist down onto the table. All of the studio equipment jumped and I closed my eyes at the unprovoked act of violence. He looked down at his hand, leaned forward into the microphone and spoke directly into it.

  I felt the blood drain out of my face.

  Even if I didn’t want to hear it, I couldn’t have avoided his loud yet muffled response.

  “Emily.”

  My heart stuttered and the world around me slowed to a halt.

  Connor seemed to realize he was too close to the microphone and pulled back but only slightly and he spoke again.

  “Emmy.” He blinked sluggishly and looked miserable. His voice was low and rough. “Her name is Emmy.”

  I stared into the screen and watched the man I love fall from grace.

  Closing my eyes, I muttered under my breath, “Goddammit, Connor.”

  Why didn’t he tell me?

  Because he’s an asshole.

  My heart was at war with my mind until, finally, I cleared my throat and shrugged. “Whatever. It might have meant something then.” As I walked back to my room, I stated, “But it doesn’t mean shit now.”

  Unfortunately, I didn’t really believe that.

  And, somehow, I knew The Vixens didn’t either.

  It was just another day in the life of The Violet Dame and where The Dame had been secretly reveling in the world’s attention, tonight Emmy wished she could call in sick and just stay at home in her jammies, doing nothing more than playing old records and eating ice cream. Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening. The label was hosting a soiree. It was a thing they did a couple times a year. It was such a big deal that it was written into The Vixens’ contract, an obligated appearance of sorts.

  It was a ‘smile for the cameras,’ ‘show the world how happy you are,’ ‘remember, we own your souls’ kind of thing.

  Left Turn would be there, of course. That being the one and only reason I wanted to bail.

  While I loved seeing Noah, Lee, and Hell, so far I was able to avoid Connor at an expert level. Sometimes being in the same building and still having been able to evade him.

  But then, he didn’t know The Violet Dame. He knew Emmy. And Emmy had grown since then.

  Truthfully, she’d evolved into a hybrid of who she used to be and the person she was now. It was an odd place to be. I was stuck somewhere between invisible and famous, between thrift shopping and being a weapon of massive consumption, between conservative and completely bared to the world.

  I didn’t know who I was anymore and that simultaneously worried and excited me.

  The moment the limo pulled up to the building, Pearl looked at me and made a face. “Are you okay, Emmy? You kind of look like you’re gonna be sick.” She leaned in. “Are you gonna barf, honey?”

  I shook my head and swallowed hard. I actually did feel like I was going to be ill.

  Beth sat by my side, putting a reassuring hand on my arm. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve done this before. You’ll just wear your shades all night and avoid him. Easy.”

  As if she’d just reminded me, I slipped on my oversized sunglasses. I felt stupid. It was almost 10:00 p.m. The only people who wore sunglasses after dark were blind people and douchebags.

  Cherry sat across from me and gently nudged me with her foot. “I have no issue being your shield.” Her words were a comfort. “If he gets too close, I’ll lead him away.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled warmly but the word was barely whispered.

  “Want me to kick him in the balls?” Ettie asked earnestly. �
�Because I can do that. No problem. In fact, I want to do that.” Her eyes sparkled. “Please let me do that.”

  I laughed then took a deep breath in. “It’s okay, guys. I’ll be fine. I just need a drink.”

  “Or eleven,” muttered Cherry, grinning.

  “Or eleven,” I agreed solemnly.

  “Ready?” Beth enquired, and when I nodded, she opened the door. “Here we go.”

  The second the door opened, lights started flashing. A man in a black suit held the door and offered his hand which the girls all avoided. Unfortunately, latex didn’t have as much give as you’d think and I took the proffered hand with a small smile.

  When Amber told me she ordered my dress online from an adult store, I balked, but it was nice. Really nice.

  The dusty rose color hugged every curve of my body. Again, underwear was not an option but it came to just below the knee, had a halter strap neck and dipped low enough to see my boobs were indeed real. We combined it with a pair of six-inch suede peep-toe pumps of the same color and I wore my thick violet hair straight and parted down the middle.

  I called this exercise ‘how to make a celebrity,’ and it often required hours of preparation and discomfort but, oh, the things people did when it was expected of them.

  Sometimes being The Violet Dame was exhausting.

  Positively exhausting.

  As soon as I got my bearings, my face became emotionless and I went into manager duty. The girls posed for photos and when precisely one minute passed, I moved them on much to the photographer’s disappointment. Once inside, loud music assaulted my ears and the song was strangely familiar. It was clear the label had gone with a nightclub feel for the evening.

  That was awesome for me. Darkness was good. Great, even.

  In the dim lighting, my eyes scanned the crowd. I recognized some of the mass, heard their music, but there were a lot of people here I didn’t know.

  Also, okay.

  The more people here, the less of a chance I had of running into Connor and even if I did, I could quite easily make myself fade into the background.

  There we stood, the five of us, and after a moment of silence, it became obvious that none of us wanted to be here. With a dull sigh, Cherry smacked my ass. “C’mon. Let’s get a drink.”

  Oh, boy, was I down for that. I took her hand, entwining our fingers. “Lead the way.”

  Once at the bar, I searched the mob around us and Cherry let out a rough laugh. When my eyes settled on her, she threw me a sly look. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking for a certain he-devil.” In pure Cherry style, she reached over the bar and grabbed a handful of maraschino cherries. When the bartender’s gaze landed on her, she smirked, throwing one in her mouth. He grinned back and she licked her lips. “Well, lookie here.” She leaned into me. “How many times you think he’d make me come before I kicked him out?”

  I snorted. “I don’t know. A few.”

  “Mmhm.” Cherry didn’t take her eyes off him. “Think I might test that hypothesis tonight.” She took a cherry and made a show of licking it very, very slowly.

  The bartender dropped a glass and when it smashed, we both spun around, laughing into each other’s face.

  A tap on the shoulder momentarily alarmed me.

  My head shot up and the smile that greeted me was warm, spreading joy throughout my entire body. Noah stood there looking as handsome as I’d ever seen him and he was smiling down at me with a tenderness I’d seldom seen directed at me.

  We didn’t exchange a single word. Our embrace said everything our voices couldn’t.

  His arms snaked around me and held me firm. My arms came up his back, gripping his shirt. I couldn’t seem to get close enough to him.

  Noah was a sight for sore eyes.

  Before I could register what was happening, Noah pulled back, grinned hard and kissed me. Sure, it was tight-mouthed and didn’t last longer than two seconds but something weird happened to me.

  My stomach did a somersault.

  Odd.

  “Cherry.” He jerked his chin in her direction. “You mind if I borrow your dame for a few?”

  Cherry smiled. “No, I don’t. As long as you keep her away from you know who.”

  “I will,” he promised. “Besides, he’s already wasted.” Noah’s arms remained around me, turning me as he did, and when he pointed to the far corner, my heartbeat stumbled. Connor was lying on a sofa in the middle of the throng of people with his arm over his eyes, shielding him from the strobe of lights.

  My chest ached violently and I averted my gaze.

  Yep. Still hurt.

  Good to know.

  After Cherry had spotted Connor, she turned to me. “Okay?”

  I didn’t miss the way Noah gently rubbed my hip. I smiled at her. “I’m okay.”

  As she walked to the other side of the bar, she mouthed, Text me.

  Noah sat on a stool, parted his legs and pulled me to stand between them. I thought the stance was a little too intimate for friends but what did I know? In a move that stunned me, his hands slid down my back to rest at the curve of my butt. “Hi.”

  It wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly, just not expected. Testing the waters, I leaned into him. “Hi.”

  Noah’s smile widened. “Take your glasses off. I want to talk to you.” I did as he asked and, for some unknown reason, it was hard to look at him. Finally, I managed a peep and his smile softened. “There she is.” He searched my face then his smile fell. When he leaned in, my hands came up to rest on his wide shoulders and he spoke directly into my ear. “I tried to call you.”

  He did, after the interview aired but I was busy. I was also avoiding the Connor conversation. “I know.”

  We struggled to converse which I was sure was why Noah inclined slightly and pressed his lips to my cheek. I couldn’t help but smile. My hand came up to cup his cheek as I used the other for balance.

  Suddenly, this all felt wrong, and my stomach ached in a way that hurt my entire being.

  Without meaning to, my mouth opened and out came a miserable sounding, “If only it were you.”

  Noah held my eyes as he registered what I said or, more precisely, what I hadn’t said.

  If only it were you.

  But it wasn’t.

  Isn’t.

  Never will be.

  His face fell and I felt his hands ball into fists at my tailbone. It took him a moment but he responded with, “Me too.”

  We were spared any further awkward follow up when from behind me came, “Jesus, kid. You’re killing me.” I twirled at the familiar voice and when I saw Lee standing there, a hand on his hip, the other at his forehead, looking thoroughly devastated, I chuckled. He shook his head. “When you wear the shit you’ve been wearing…” He balled his hand into a fist and bit his knuckle, hard. “I am not thinking brotherly thoughts right now.”

  With a soft laugh, I took a step forward, hyperaware of Noah’s hands on me. When they fell, I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief and moved into Lee’s outstretched arms. He hugged me tight, gently swaying me. Yet to release me, he spoke quietly. “How you doing, kid?”

  I thought about it. “Can I get back to you when I figure that out?”

  His laughter warmed my ear and, when we parted, he kept his hold on me. “I’ve been watching, you hear, and you’re killing it. I’m impressed, really.” He looked down at me, at my open cleavage, his face going from overjoyed to slightly horrified. “Would it be out of line to ask you to cover up?” At my mock-glare, he sighed. “Godammit.”

  Suddenly, I let out a yelp when someone pinched my ass. I whirled around to find a huge Viking grinning down at me. “What am I, chopped liver?”

  I threw myself into Hell’s arms and he held me close, placing a gentle hand at the back of my head, cradling me as if I were precious to him. I was appalled at myself when my throat began to tighten. My eyes stung and I pulled back, fanning m
y face.

  The guys looked down at me, concerned, but I tried to laugh it off. A bark of a laugh escaped me. “Sorry. I just…” The first tear fell and my voice cracked. “I miss my boys.” I fanned my face harder. More tears fell.

  Get a hold of yourself.

  I’m trying, dammit!

  Lee spoke first. “Miss you too, kid.”

  “It’s not the same without ya,” Hell added.

  Noah’s expression turned grim. “You’re not gonna believe it but we actually considered throwing Connor out of the band just to get you back.”

  An unladylike snort left me and I laughed, patting away my tears. They grinned back at me, the mood lightened and suddenly, I couldn’t stop smiling. “I love the new album. I listen to it every night before bed. You did good. It’s your best yet.” Not that my opinion mattered.

  I was so focused on the three of them that I hadn’t been looking at my surroundings or my phone. My ear prickled when a wolf whistle sounded. It was then I heard him. “Noah, I get it, man. She’s a peach.” I hated that I could picture his grin. “Well, from this angle, at least.”

  With my back to Connor, I straightened then slid my sunglasses back on with shaking hands. I moved to walk away and as I did, Noah said, “I’ll call you.”

  Without looking back, I threw up the peace sign and heard Connor say, “What’s up with her?”

  Noah responded, “You’ve just got that effect on women.”

  And I fought a grin.

  With my knees wobbling as badly as they were, I hadn’t the slightest clue how I made it down the short flight of stairs to the corner I saw Beth and Ettie hanging in. Cherry came up behind me sounding exasperated. “You need to check your damn phone.”

  I did and saw exactly why she was pissed.

  Cherry: Dude, Connor’s not where he was. Don’t stress. I’m looking for him.

  Cherry: OMG He’s coming!

  Cherry: GET OUT OF THERE!

  “Oh,” was all I could say, throwing her a sheepish expression.

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful and when the clock struck twelve, I called for the limo to return. We had a few minutes so when I spotted Noah talking to a pretty redhead, I went over to say goodbye. The second he saw me, the conversation with the pretty girl ended and I wasn’t sure if he even knew how devastated she looked at losing Noah Gamble’s interest.