Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  ***

  Henley

  One Month Later

  “Let’s go out, baby,” Kip says as I wake at three in the afternoon.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Lincoln, Nebraska,” he answers.

  “Kip we’ve been partying non-stop,” I whine.

  “Got a point to prove,” he says.

  “Going out drinking almost every night doesn’t prove a thing,” I say.

  “It’s my big fuck you to the world,” he says.

  “It’s not about partying like a rock star every night. The point is proven by living our lives like the rest of society does, cameras be damned,” I reply.

  “I’m going out. I want you to come with me,” he pouts.

  “I’m exhausted,” I pout back.

  The partying has never been so crazy and everyone has jumped on board. I’m fucking tired, and the alcohol is killing my vocal chords and stamina. I can barely manage to find the energy to get through a show anymore. I need rest.

  “I’m still going out,” he says with finality.

  “Okay,” I say and fall back onto the bed. “I really need rest.”

  “I know. You look exhausted, babe. I’ll just go out for a while and then come back here to crawl in bed with you.”

  “Okay,” I agree and fall back asleep almost instantly.

  ***

  “Baby Mama!” Kip yells.

  I turn on a lamp and look at my phone.

  Fuck it’s 4 AM.

  I hear him vomit in the hotel bathroom.

  Fuck.

  I drag my ass out of bed and find Kip getting sick, so I wet a washcloth and wait for him to finish. I wipe his face off and make him brush his teeth before I strip him and put him in the bed with a trash can beside him.

  “I love you, Henley,” he slurs.

  “I love you too.”

  ***

  Kip drags ass all day, severely hung over and dehydrated from partying for a month straight. The rags and magazines are documenting our boy’s rock star takeover of every city we hit. They’ve completely forgotten we aren’t twenty anymore.

  While everyone else feels like shit, I finally feel rested. I rock the stage tonight while my band mates fuck up right and left. They’re sluggish and I feel like I might as well be a one woman show. I hope like hell the fans don’t pick up on this amateur shit. After the show I don’t speak to any of them. I rush to my dressing room avoiding all others as the anger simmers just below the surface.

  “Great show, Hen,” a roadie says to me and I know he’s full of shit because he heard every fuck up I did, but I nod and smile.

  I open my door and lock the door behind me. I hear knocks and Rhys and Memphis’s voice coming through, so I turn on a sound system in the room to drown them out. I wipe the sweat off and take a few moments to hydrate myself hoping when the adrenaline from the stage subsides it will take my anger with it.

  With some quiet and alone time my anger subsides, and I put on my best smile as I sign autographs for fans and interact with my band mates. As I walk to the bus, I’m startled by a hand that wraps around my waist. I stop in my tracks and breathe him in as he brings my face to his neck.

  “What’s wrong baby?” Kip asks.

  I sigh. “I’m tired of partying. I don’t want to go down the wrong path again.”

  He kisses the top of my head, “I’ve got you. You aren’t running from anything. You aren’t numbing pain, you’re just having a good time. I think intention goes a long way. Alcohol wasn’t your drug of choice when you went down that road, anyways.”

  I sigh again, “I know. I’m just trying to be careful. I’m worried about Memphis. He has an addictive personality and has been a little short tempered lately.”

  “Memphis is fine, baby doll. He’s just hung over. We’re all bastards when we’re hung over.”

  “I guess.”

  “Let’s go find the others and see what we’re up to for the night, yeah?” he asks.

  I stay wrapped up in him as I agree and then meet up with the others to talk out plans for the night.

  ***

  Within the hour we’re at a club and drinking like Greek gods. Kip and I dance all night with each other. His body wraps around mine no matter how fast or slow the song. He grinds his dick on me all night, encouraging the alcohol in my blood system to join with my constant lust for him.

  “Let’s find somewhere private,” he whispers in my ear and drags me off the dance floor.

  He pulls me through kitchen swinging doors and looks around for the perfect spot. He finds a private office with a private bathroom that are both luckily unlocked. After he pulls me with impatience through the bathroom door, he slams it and flips the lock. His hands find my hips, lifting me onto the large bathroom vanity.

  Kip kneels onto the floor and begins a trail of kisses up my leg until he reaches the top of my thighs. He forces my dress up and over my ass and legs where he buries his face in my pussy. His rubs his nose through my panties causing me to gasp from the sensation.

  “No foreplay, just fuck me,” I beg.

  He smiles as he stands and reaches under the hem of my panties where he pulls hard to get them off. He puts them in his back pocket as I begin to unzip him and free his prick. I grab him and stroke down his shaft.

  “Fuck woman,” he says between clenched teeth.

  “Hurry,” I plead through the drunken fog.

  His hands grip my hips as he brings me to the edge of the vanity, and then he guides himself inside me. I love the way he fills me, like if he had anymore to give me I might burst at the seams.

  “Fuck, baby,” he says into my ear as he slowly works my lubrication up and down his shaft.

  “Harder,” I plead.

  His lips finally find mine in a fury of tongue and drunken passion. He finally finds a tempo I’m happy with and thrusts into me relentlessly, but his mouth never leaves mine. His hands never leave my hips as he pushes and pulls me forward onto his cock.

  I pull my legs further up and lock them around his back.

  “God damn, baby. I’m so fucking deep,” he pants.

  He grunts loudly as he fucks me making me smile. His pleasure is so fucking hot, and it brings me closer to the brink. He brings one arm around the small of my back and pushes his other hand into my hair where he pulls my head back. His lips find my neck and chest as he continues to pump into me.

  “I’m close,” he says with a moan.

  “Me too, keep going,” I order.

  “Feels too fucking good,” he grunts.

  “Keep going!” I yell out as I can feel the edges of an orgasm blooming close by.

  “Yeah,” he calls out in the midst of ecstasy.

  “Fuck!” I scream as the most beautiful feeling in the world overtakes me.

  “So fucking gorgeous when you come,” he says and then I feel the wetness between my legs thicken as he comes inside.

  He buries his head in the crease of my neck and shoulder as he fucks through his orgasm. His hot breath hits my skin causing goosebumps to flesh out on my body. His thrusts slow down after his orgasm is over, but he doesn’t stop moving in and out of me.

  “Fucking my seed back into you,” he advises.

  I wrap my hands around his neck and place my lips on his. He softly and gently moves his lips against mine for a few moments before his tongue snakes out against the inside of my upper lip. He doesn’t stop moving inside of me while his tongue takes over our kiss. I slip my tongue inside of his mouth and we dance together just enjoying the feel of one another. I have no idea how long we kiss as he sees to his need of keeping all of him inside of me. I get lost in the kiss, so full of love and drunken bliss.

  When he pulls away from me, he rests his forehead on mine and lick his bottom lip leaving it glistening and enticing.

  “I love you,” he says and then sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth as his thumb traces my
cheek bone.

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  He leans over to a paper towel dispenser and pulls off a handful before he turns the sink on behind me. He wets the towels, then pulls out of me before he cleans me up with care. I follow his routine and wet a handful of towels before I clean him up and tuck him back in his pants. He leans down and opens my panties for me to step into and brings them to their rightful place as he stands up straight. He places a kiss to my forehead and holds it for a few moments before he looks down at me and presses a quick kiss to my lips.

  Chapter 21

  Henley

  With my hand in his, we walk back into the main area of the club and join our friends for the remainder of the party.

  The night flies by in the flashing lights above the dance floor. Sweat trickles down my body as I move with the music. Laughter surrounds me from the people I love most in this world. I dance with them all, feeling happy and so numb it feels like some form of peace. I drink what’s handed to me to feed the intoxication and to keep the carefree feeling I feel alive and well inside of me.

  “I love you’s” pass between us all as we partake in the party. I remember the smiles and looks of lust that pass between several of my loved ones. The memories are already fuzzy but I remember them and I feel them somewhere deep in my soul. Happiness flows around our group mixed with the heady scent of alcohol and sexual musk.

  The numbness takes over as I stumble into the ladies room. I don’t remember why I came in here as I feel loss of control of my limbs. I try to find the strength to get into a stall as I feel the vomit rise. I lose complete control of my body and fall forward as I hit the edge of the toilet seat. It hurts but I can’t find the strength to vocalize a cry.

  I collapse on the floor as blood rushes down my face. I feel the bile rising but can’t stand to wretch into the toilet. My body spasms on its own volition as the vomit finally spews out of my mouth, down my face, and onto a puddle on the floor. I can’t move. I can’t move out of my own vomit.

  Something is wrong. I drank too much and got sick, but something else is wrong. I can’t move. I can see and my eyes remain wide open, unable to blink as I try to muster a scream for help. Nothing comes out and my body won’t move. I can’t make my body move. I just need to crawl. I need to find help. I don’t want to die alone.

  ***

  Cory

  I watch the perimeter and continue to count the group of people I guard.

  Ten, eleven, twelve… somebody is missing. I check off each person present my mental checklist. Henley.

  Henley’s missing, so I push away from my position on the wall and search for her in the group to see if she’s so wrapped up in her friends that I can’t get a visual on her. I push through the drunken rock stars and begin to grow frantic as I check each one of them off my list again. Henley isn’t wrapped around them.

  Joe approaches with a concerned look on his face, “Where’s Henley?”

  “That’s who I’m looking for,” I answer.

  “She’s not in my count,” he says.

  “No. She’s not,” I say.

  The rock stars continue their party unaware that she’s missing. The worse possible scenarios go through my head and I’m instantly feeling anger for her friends and family. How could they not know she’s missing? They’ve been stuck up their own asses for over a month and are heading down a road they don’t want to go down.

  Please don’t let someone have her. Please don’t let someone hurt her, I pray. I assemble the team that remains in the shadows around the club. I direct them to search certain parts of the club. I send Joe to find the manager of the establishment for help. As all of this happens in the middle of the never ending party, not one of them ever notices she’s missing or that we’re worried. They blissfully ignore that she may be in imminent danger.

  I check the woman’s bathroom as Joe checks the men’s.

  “Henley,” I call out to the empty room.

  I begin opening each stall door as I continually call out. I grow impatient with the ridiculous amount of stalls in the room and kneel down to look under each stall when I see a woman with blonde hair on the floor of the last stall.

  “Henley?!!” I call out even more frantic.

  I push the stall door and it opens. Thank fuck.

  “Hen?” I ask as I kneel down and push the woman’s hair back only to discover it is indeed her.

  She’s covered in vomit while lying in a puddle of it as well. Her eyes are open but she’s not moving.

  “Oh god no!” I yell out.

  I check her neck for a pulse and watch for respirations. She’s breathing and her heartbeat is steady.

  “Henley, what’s wrong darlin’?” I ask.

  She doesn’t blink but continues to stare straight ahead.

  “Fuck! You’ve been roofied, darlin’!” I yell.

  I pull out my cell and call Joe, “I found her in the women’s bathroom. I need you in here ASAP. Get the manager to reroute all traffic from these restrooms to the ones on the other side of the building. I don’t want anyone in or out of here.”

  “10-4,” he responds and in less than a minute he’s by my side.

  He gasps as he takes in the sight of her, “Breathing? Heartbeat?”

  “Strong,” I answer.

  “Rohypnol,” he guesses correctly.

  “Let’s get her cleaned up and the fuck out of here,” I say.

  Joe asks the manager for as many towels as we can get and we begin working on picking her up out of the vomit and getting the rest of it off of her. Joe asks for a rubber band so we can tie her hair back out of her face.

  I take off my shirt and place it over her head to cover her small dress. It swallows her whole but covers her well so no one can take any pictures of her like this.

  “Call Marques and have him figure out who in the fuck did this. Tell him he is to use any means necessary until we find our guy. The waitress was the only one who brought the group drinks, which means this likely came from someone behind the bar. Any fucking means necessary,” I repeat.

  I listen to Joe call and relay my message. I look into Henley’s eyes and see the fear. She’s scared to death.

  “I know you can’t move, darlin’. I’m going to tell you what’s going on. You got a hold of a drink with a roofie in it. You are paralyzed. I don’t know how long this will last, but I’m with you. I’ll keep you safe. This will pass, I promise. Fuck, I’m so sorry this happened, Hen,” I tell her.

  She doesn’t blink or move, but the fear doesn’t leave her eyes either.

  “Henley, your heartbeat is a little fast. You’ve got a lot of alcohol in your system and you’re scared to death. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to try to calm down for me. Joe and I aren’t leaving you and Marques is going to find out who did this. You’re safe. You couldn’t be any safer darlin’,” I say.

  I keep my hand on her neck for the next ten minutes as I try to formulate a plan to get her out of here without anyone seeing or photographing her. Her pulse slows down a little which is enough for me. Without any warning her stomach begins to heave as I hold her against me. I rush her to a sink where she heaves with a paralyzed body. Her eyes are full of tears and wide open as her stomach rids itself of the alcohol.

  “God dammit!” Joe says and punches a silver paper towel dispenser. “She could’ve choked on her own vomit! I’m going to kill whoever did this. Mark my word on that.”

  When she finally stops heaving, we clean her up again.

  “I need a blanket to wrap her in,” I advise and Joe leaves the room in search of it.

  When he returns twenty moments later he has a large fleece blanket in hand, “A waitress had this in her car.”

  “Can you orchestrate getting those drunk idiots out there into the vehicles? Keep Kip’s ass in another car and take off once it’s full. Make sure her brothers are in that car too. When the second one is full let me know
so I can bring her out the back. I’ll sit with her in the front seat so I can keep her upright. Grab a trash bag from the manager on your way out and let Marques know to call as soon as he knows something. If he finds out who it is, tell him to bring the fucker with him to parking garage of the hotel,” I order and Joe nods with an affirmative.

  “I’m getting you out of here without anyone seeing. I’m not going to leave you, Hen. Calm your heartrate again darlin’,” I say softly to comfort her.

  Joe’s call comes twenty minutes later. I make our escape through the kitchen and find the SUV parked at the door with him holding the back door open. He has the passenger door open for us and helps me get her settled in my lap with a trash bag in hand. Joe then rushes to the driver’s seat and puts the car in drive before he speeds out of the parking lot like a demon.

  “What’s going on?” Rhys asks.

  “Sit back there and shut the fuck up,” I issue.

  “Fuck you Cory. What’s wrong with Henley?” he asks as the Bluetooth rings through the speakers.

  “Yeah?” Joe answers.

  “Where the fuck is Henley?” Kip asks with a slur.

  “You should’ve wondered that about an hour and a half ago,” I answer and Joe ends the call.

  ***

  Two hours later

  “Marques has possession of the package,” Joe informs me as I watch Henley stare out with her big grey eyes.

  “Where is it?” I ask.

  “Tied up in an abandoned warehouse five blocks east,” he answers. “Said it wasn’t intended for her, but from what we’re deducing it was Tabithia.”

  “Doesn’t make a fuck who it was intended for. If this was Tabithia laying here, the result would be the same for her and for him.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Escaped the reaper tonight,” Joe says with gruffness.

  “Both women did, one just doesn’t know it yet. I’m not sure this asshole will be so lucky,” I reply.