Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2)

by Hissong, Theresa

  Fatal Temptations

  Fatal Cross Live!

  Book 2

  By Theresa Hissong

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright 2016 Theresa Hissong

  Disclaimer:

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. The names of people, places, and/or things are all created from the author’s mind and are only used for entertainment. Any reference to actual products, songs, people, or places have been given rightful acknowledgment.

  This book contains mentions of drug use and child abuse.

  Due to the content, this book is recommended for adults 18 years and older.

  Cover Design:

  Custom eBook Covers

  Editing by:

  Heidi Ryan

  Formatted by:

  Wayne Hissong

  For more information or how to contact Theresa Hissong, please visit:

  http://authortheresahissong.com

  www.facebook.com/authortheresahissong

  Other Books by Theresa Hissong

  Warriors of the Krieger:

  Blood & Roses

  Blood at Stake

  Memphis S.W.A.T:

  It Takes Two

  Rise of the Pride:

  Talon

  Book for Charity:

  Fully Loaded

  Fatal Cross Live!:

  Fatal Desires

  Dedication:

  To my parents...

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Presley

  Remembering

  11 years ago…

  He was drunk, again.

  He was always drunk.

  My entire life had been nothing but whisky sours and Bud Light from the time he walked in the door in his three thousand dollar suit fresh from his hard day’s work as a corporate CEO until he passed out from the alcohol right after dinner. Daddy dearest thought he was the best thing to grace the air I breathed and reminded me of that as often as he felt the need.

  At nineteen, my life should’ve been college classes and late night parties with my best friends, flirting with boys, and chasing the sunrise on Saturday mornings. That would never be a part of my world. No, I was not allowed to do the things that normal children were allowed to do because it would embarrass my perfectly sculptured family unit if I was to step over some invisible line of his social standards. I was only allowed out of the house on school nights for my job. Yes…I said school nights. I was actually in college and had a curfew.

  In the last six or seven years before I left, I’d learned that when I had bruises around my throat, he was disgusted by the sight while he tried to eat his perfectly prepared meal. Even though he was the one who put those marks on me when he felt the need to let off some steam or when the booze changed him into a monster. Just like the ones I’d received the night I came home to find him sitting in the recliner drunk because I hadn’t made it home by nine (my weekday curfew) after my shift at the pizza shop I worked at in the evenings. The end result was always the same. I was held down by my throat and strangled until I was blue in the face. He’d always let me go right before he killed me. I really wished he’d just finished off the job. At least then I would’ve been at peace.

  A door slamming downstairs had fear racing up my spine. I shivered from the unknown of what that sound meant. Was it a simple mistake from the wind catching the door? Or was he angry at my mom for not having his dinner on the table when he required it? Was he leaving the house for some dinner meeting I wasn’t aware of?

  I couldn’t get that lucky.

  The only saving grace I had was that he surely wouldn’t want me at the dinner table tonight. No, not with the way I looked. I’d wrapped a soft scarf around my neck and stayed in my room for most of the day, only coming out to grab a sandwich.

  My mother was no better. She made excuses and always took his side in any argument. The lies were getting easier to spot now that I was older. If I heard how he’d “just had a horrible day at work” or “you know your father…he didn’t mean it” one more time, I seriously thought I’d kill my fucking self. Just give me the gun, I’d pull the trigger, because I wasn’t sure how much more of it I could take.

  A soft knock on the door announced my mother arriving with a plate of food. The sound of the silverware plinking against the fine china always made my skin crawl. The lap of luxury wasn’t all it was made out to be on television. Trust me…I was living in my own personal hell, candy coated with money.

  “Here’s your dinner,” she snapped, setting the plate on the small desk beside the door. The upturn to her nose was a dead giveaway that she was still taking his side, not caring that her beloved husband almost killed the child she’d given birth to nineteen years ago.

  In fact, with the silent treatment and pity party for one she’d been throwing for herself all day, I was sure, somehow, that the entire thing was my fault. Oh, and the shopping trip she took that afternoon was probably retail therapy for her distraught nerves for having a wild teenager living under her roof.

  “I’m not hungry,” I whispered, pulling the headphones back over my ears to drown out her voice. I looked up out of the corner of my eye when she slammed the door as quickly as she’d opened it. I just wanted to make sure I was alone in my room. The stiff set to my shoulders relaxed when I realized he wasn’t standing there behind her.

  I didn’t want anything from them…I just wanted a way out. Things were falling into place for me, but I had to just hold on a little while longer. I wasn’t as stupid as they thought. I’d been saving up for a while, having had my own bank account for the past year. I’d been putting away money so I could get out on my own, and somehow, they hadn’t known about my little attempt at a hoarding money for my getaway from hell.

  I had a safe place to go if I needed it. A friend from high school had gone on to play for a fairly well known band and was currently traveling the country. He gave me a set of keys to his place, making me promise I would go there when I was ready to run or if things got bad. I’d packed away all of the things I needed into a duffle bag and had hidden them behind the shed at the back of our property where I knew my father would never venture out to. The little shed held lawn equipment and was only used by the hired help during the spring and summer when they would mow the lawn. Since it was set so close to the fence lin
e, I tucked my bag as far back as I could and prayed it was never found.

  “Do you not have any fucking respect for your mother?” my father blared, pushing the door open to my room so hard the door handle imbedded itself into the wall behind it. “Huh? Do you? You ungrateful bitch!”

  The plate with my meal was picked up and thrown at my face, but I dodged to the side. I guess that was the wrong thing to do. The fact that it didn’t hit me actually made things worse…so much worse.

  As my eyes blinked to clear out the past few hours, I gritted my teeth to fight the tears that had fallen down my scraped up cheek. My left eye was now totally swollen shut, but I still had full use of the other one. As I took stock of my body, I breathed a sigh of relief when I came up with only the busted eye and sore ribs. He’d gotten really good at punching me hard enough to knock me out, and I was thankful that this time he didn’t keep up the beating. I guess his food was getting cold.

  It didn’t take long before I made the decision that would forever change my life. I found the second hidden bag I kept between my mattresses. This duffle was empty, but it only took me a few minutes to pack the clothes I needed. I didn’t even look back when I climbed out of my window and ran away from home, swearing I’d never let that man have any more control over my life.

  The darkness surrounded me as I walked the seven miles to the apartment I would be using as my own. By the time I arrived, my head was pounding and my vision had started to blur. I’d already been yawning for the past hour as I’d walked down back roads and alleyways to get to where I needed to go. So it wasn’t a surprise when I did nothing more than face plant on my best friend’s couch and slept for the next two days, praying I would never end up back in the hands of the monster I called my father.

  Ace

  Remembering

  Three years ago…

  Stumbling out of the bed, my feet tangled into the bedsheets that had been pushed to the floor as I roughly fucked the band whore who’d paid for VIP access. Hell, I bet the beautiful blonde had planned on tempting me into bed before she’d even arrived at the venue. Looking over my shoulder, I laughed silently to myself. She was currently passed out, an empty bottle of whiskey and several pills laid discarded next to her head.

  I found my way into the bathroom of the hotel room we’d stayed at in Vegas. The band we had been opening for, Glory Days, had a two night show here every time they came through, and we were lucky enough to have been asked to come on this tour. I, for one, was fucking ecstatic! My band was finally going somewhere. We’d worked our asses off for this album. Yeah, sales were slow, but we were going to blow the crowd out of the water opening for the biggest rock band in recent history.

  The only issue I had was when their lead singer, Ash, stopped me the night before and voiced his concern over how much I’d had to drink before going on stage. Little did he know, I’d snorted enough coke with Taylor to offset the alcohol in my system. The show was a success. I’d had no doubt.

  I groaned when the light over the mirror illuminated the room. I fumbled with the buttons on my jeans, placing a hand on the wall to hold myself upright while I took a piss. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw myself in the mirror. My naturally curly hair was a matted mess around my face. As I leaned closer, I frowned at how bloodshot my eyes had become. The overwhelming stench of booze drifted across my nose. “Fuck, I need a shower.”

  More pills were scattered across the counter, and I really didn’t care what they were when I grabbed two pinks and one white, using a cup by the sink to gather water to chase them down. It didn’t take long before I realized that had been a bad fucking idea.

  My knees hit the ground barely in time for me to expel everything that was inside my gut. I groaned loudly when a pain tore through the pit of my stomach. A voice called out, but I was too busy vomiting to answer. I laid my head down on the tile as I slapped at the handle of the toilet, flushing down all of the contents of the night before.

  “Hey, man,” Cash said, stumbling into the bathroom. He didn’t look any better than I did. His hair was also a matted mess. I chuckled at the stain of red lipstick across his chest. “You okay?”

  “Maybe,” I laughed, feeling the pain in my stomach bubble up to the surface. “No, I’m not.” What the fuck was wrong? I felt my stomach rebel as I turned for the toilet.

  “Son of a bitch, Ace!” he cursed. “You’re puking blood!”

  “Well, that’s not good,” I said, right before I passed out. Would I ever get to a point in my life where I could live normally without doing things that could kill me?

  Chapter 1

  Ace

  I think my life began the day I almost died. That was the day that changed me. I couldn’t blame my actions on anyone but myself. It’d been my own stupidity that had caused me to not only skirt the edge of death, but also teeter on the ledge of losing my career in the music industry.

  It’d been just over three years since we’d checked ourselves into an extensive drug rehab program. Taylor, Cash, and myself had just watched our drummer go to jail for his crimes, and we were quickly spiraling down into a darkened abyss of pills, alcohol, and cocaine. There was no one there to stop us from going too far in our quest to live everyday as if it were our last.

  I’d done some things that I would always regret and would have to live with those actions for the rest of my life. I was just thankful that I never hurt anyone when I was on drugs. Whoever my guardian angel happened to be…I was sure she had her work cut out keeping me alive, because I’d definitely tested the boundaries more times than I could count.

  I was better now. Well, as much as any drug addict could be in his recovery. I still had bad days where I craved a high. I still had times when I would be sore all over and have to push through to keep myself going because I couldn’t just pop a handful of prescription pain killers to numb the pain. When I was tired, there wasn’t an endless supply of cocaine to keep me up and running for days at a time.

  As I sat watching the scenery pass by the windows of the bus, I listened to my band mates and our crew talking about their excitement over our next show. Coraline was perched in Taylor’s lap, her head resting against his neck. Cash was playing a game on his phone, ignoring the crew’s constant jokes about his addiction to technology. Braxton was sitting at the table eating a monster sandwich and watching everyone interact, although he didn’t contribute to the conversations.

  “Alright boys,” Coraline announced. “We should be arriving in Mobile in about an hour. Your interview at the station isn’t scheduled until two. That gives you guys three hours to yourselves. Witch’s Spawn should be arriving after us. Presley just texted me and said their trailer had a flat and they were running late.”

  “Are they okay?” I asked, sitting up straighter in my seat.

  “They’re fine.” Coraline shrugged. “She said that the guys were almost done changing the tire.” I noticed when Braxton raised a curious brow at my sudden interest, but I ignored him and resumed looking out the window.

  It was raining out today and I would’ve been a complete asshole if I didn’t worry about our opening band. That was my only reason behind asking about them. Oh, who was I kidding? I was more worried about the sexy lead singer of Witch’s Spawn, Presley Pittman, than I should’ve been. That woman had starred in my dreams again last night. She’d been calling out for me to help her, crying softly as she hid in a darkened corner. I woke up early this morning with a hard jerk, sweat dripping down the side of my face. I wasn’t sure what it was that had that beautiful woman haunting my dreams, but it needed to stop.

  Everyone groaned as the bus rolled to a stop behind the venue. Coraline shot up from her seat on Taylor’s lap and started for the front of the bus, but was quickly grabbed by my guitarist for a customary goodbye kiss.

  “I don’t know why you always kiss her goodbye,” Cash snorted, pulling his long, blond hair up into a ponytail. “She’ll be back in like five minutes.”

  �
�Fuck off,” Taylor growled, looking over his shoulder as he watched his woman head for the building.

  “Trouble in paradise?” I asked, tossing my empty water bottle into the trashcan at his feet. Anytime I could get under Taylor’s skin, I took the liberty with a smile.

  “No,” he huffed. We loved to give him a hard time, but it was all in good fun and he knew it.

  “Are you pouting?” Braxton laughed in a rare show of any emotion. “You are pouting.”

  Taylor stood and gave us all a double fingered salute and stomped off the bus. Cash just shook his head and grabbed his phone, following our guitarist. Braxton sobered quickly and headed for his bunk, saying he was going to catch a nap while it was quiet.

  I swung my feet around onto the leather sofa and pulled my baseball cap low over my eyes, hoping I could also grab a few minutes of sleep until we were required to head to the radio station.

  “Get up, sleepyhead,” Cash said, nudging me awake. When I looked up, he was pulling on a clean shirt and his hair was slightly damp. I could hear the rain producing a steady rhythm on the rooftop of the bus. The time on the clock said it was just after one, meaning I’d slept for a couple of hours.

  “Interview?” I mumbled sleepily.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Cora’s getting a vehicle for us. She said to be ready in thirty.”

  “Let me change,” I said, rolling to my feet. My aching muscles protested, but I didn’t even flinch. These aches and pains were nothing like I’d dealt with in the past. These I could handle.