Forgiving Gia (Rocker Series Book 2)

by Whitney, Gina

  A few minutes before docking, he radioed Commando to be ready for our arrival. We never saw the staff again until we reached the mooring on the left bank. We thanked them and Abel handed the captain an envelope. Payment for a job well done. Or as he said…there was no amount of money he wouldn’t pay to have his privacy. It meant the world to him.

  Commando’s presence on the dock awaiting us was a reminder of Morgana’s reach. Unease filled my body where just moments before, it was his love that filled me. What I wouldn’t give to live forever in those lost moments with him…

  We arrived back at the hotel. Beauty slept the short ride in the limo. I opened the privacy window when I was sure she fell asleep and asked for an update on the Morgana situation. Renee was convinced Morgana had a mole on the inside. Fuck that shit. I agreed to disagree. My crew was loyal to the core. I didn’t want to hear another word about it. I fought the urge to spit in Commando’s face. In an effort to be diplomatic, I closed the privacy window in his face. Fucker.

  I grabbed my phone and quickly sent Ender a text.

  Me: Dude, get ladybird on the phone…refill needed ASAP.

  Ender: You ate them all you crazy fuck?

  Me: Like my favorite candy. Get it done…please. Btw, wru?

  Ender: Done. At the bar. You?

  Me: Heading your way. I’m putting Gia to bed. Come up.

  Ender: Nah, I’m meeting the dr for a drink. I’ll drop your shit off. Then I’m out.

  Me: No worries.

  It didn’t come as a surprise to me that Ender was fucking Ladybird. I was positive Jake was, too. They usually tagged teamed. They had similar tastes and didn’t mind sharing. Hey, we all had our kink. I didn’t share—ever. Fuck that. I was too much of a high alpha.

  A smile donned my face. Thank fuck the limo was dark. I’d look like a real pussy smiling to myself. The thrill that my buzz wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon had my dick twinging. Yeah, I was a demented fuck. Pussy wasn’t the only thing that got me hard. Getting high got me hard, too.

  I carried my beauty from the car. Commando offered to take her. I spoke no words. The look on my face was unmistakable. “Try putting your hands on her. I’ll rip them off and beat you with them.” He backed away, keeping a close distance behind me. Motherfuckers were all around me as I walked through the main lobby. A few patrons ogled me carrying my girl. I laughed to myself. They probably thought I drugged her. Not that she was sated and exhausted from it. Yeah, I was pretty full of myself.

  The door to my room swung open. Chance.

  “What the fuck are you doing here? Don’t you have a room?” I stepped past him.

  His hurried pace was on my heels. Christ almighty. “I was just dying to know how your day went. Stop being so broody,” he huffed.

  I laid Beauty on the bed. I insisted on her wearing home the robe from the yacht. Her clothes were soaked. Mine were, too, but I’m a man.

  “Why is she in that dreadful robe?” He peeked over my shoulder, shaking his head.

  “Because she is! What’s your fucking fascination with textiles?” I turned, stepping toward him. I needed to hear this shit.

  “I’m gay,” he answered.

  That’s it? He’s gay? There’s plenty of homosexuals that couldn’t give a fuck about fabric. Damn, where were my pills. I patted my pant pockets until I found the bottle. I popped the top off, fingering a few into my mouth. Damn, the bottle was empty. I tossed it into the trash can across the room.

  “Are you using?” His tone sounded parental.

  I swung around, looking from Gia to him, and giving him my best shut your fucking mouth expression. I pointed to the living room and he stomped out of the bedroom like a bratty kid. I wanted to kill him. I turned my attention to my beauty, untying her robe and removing it. The bed was already turned down. I just covered her with the sheets, leaving her naked. Fuck yeah. She didn’t need anything covering her lush body when sleeping with me. I kissed the top of her head. Even then, she never stirred…thankfully.

  I closed the bedroom door and turned. “Do you fucking forget who pays you, Chance?” I asked.

  He looked offended. The blood drained from his face. Good. “How could I? You remind me all the time,” he offered. Oh, he was acting like a real cunt that day.

  “You need reminding every day because of your opinioned mouth. I don’t need your advice unless I ask. I haven’t. Have I? You’re not my parent. And watch your fucking tone with me.” I got in his face, making my point.

  His face blanched. That’s fucking right. He should be scared. I’d had it with his bullshit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way. But, I’m concerned. You get…umm…reckless when you use. And you’ve been good for a while now.” He took a deep breath. I realized he was probably shitting his pants.

  I backed off. More often than not, percs or vics got me paranoid and aggressive. I loved the high. However, nobody could stand to be around me. He was right. But that didn’t mean I was stopping, either. I knew I could be an asshole.

  “Listen, go find the boys. Let loose and have a drink. Rock and roll, Chance… We’re heading to Germany in a few days. Go get laid, will you.” I slapped him on the back ushering him out the door. Perfect timing, too. Ender was just getting off the elevator.

  “Chance.” Ender nodded, walking past him into my suite. Chance looked over my shoulder at Ender.

  “What’s he doing here?” he whispered. I gave him a pointed look. I wasn’t answering that question. Besides, it wasn’t his fucking business.

  “I’ll text you. Later, Chance,” I closed the door behind me.

  Ender poured himself a tequila, shooting it back. “What’s with the drama queen?” he asked. I shrugged. I didn’t want to get into it.

  “You got?” I walked over, meeting him at the wet bar.

  He fingered through his pocket producing an orange prescription bottle. “She said she can’t refill again unless she sees you for a re-check.”

  I rolled my eyes. Not happening in this lifetime.

  “Whatever she thinks,” I answered with a snort. I grabbed the bottle out of his hand.

  He laughed, too. He knew she’d never see me again. Pfft. Re-check? He took another shot, placing the shot glass upside down and knocked on the bar.

  “I’m out…” He patted my back. “Much love to your lovely.” He winked.

  “Go fuck your mother, cocksucker,” I shot back and he responded with his middle finger, leaving the suite. I was alone. And the silence was deafening. I could hear the ding of the elevator as Ender stepped on through the closed door.

  I had a few melodies running through my head so I grabbed my guitar along with a pen and paper. I wrote half the songs on our album while fucked-up. I wasn’t proud of it. However, it was the truth. I wasn’t an enigma in the business. This behavior was pretty standard. Ugly, torrid, and true. Speaking of which…that wasn’t a half bad title.

  I strummed the guitar once and listened. It needed tuning. With my fingers plucking the strings, I tuned the guitar perfectly. Fuck. I was pretty bent. I needed something to wake me up before I wrote. I walked over to the bar, pouring myself a finger of Macallan18. I always requested it. If I didn’t, they supplied the twelve-year-old. Which totally sucked.

  There was pricier scotch on the market. However, my old man drank this. So did his pop. Yeah, I was a contradiction. I hated my old man…what he stood for. But then again, as I matured, I found myself doing similar things. Having like-traits. Without a doubt, as of late, his actions were paternal. I wanted to feel something negative. But, when push came to shove, I needed him. And he was there.

  He also took good care of my girl when she needed me. He stepped in without a thought. Ugh. She needed me and where was I? I was on a plane halfway across the world with hate in my heart. It still ate away at me. Would I ever forgive myself for my hasty actions? My guilt was more like a veil of shame that I wore daily. I promised I’d make it up to her. And one day I would. She’d come to know wit
hout a doubt that she was the end of the road for me. The last stop. My last call. My beauty…

  My thoughts were scattered and blurred. I had a good buzz going, but I was getting tired. And I was nowhere near ready to sleep. Fuck. I should’ve still had some of Jake’s blow in my phone cover. I didn’t remember finishing it at the club that night. There was a very good chance it was still there. I pried off the outer box from my cell. Fuck yeah. A small, clear bag of coke fell into my lap. I raised my hands above my head in silent victory.

  I jumped up, pouring myself two fingers of scotch and setting it down in front of me. Pad and pen to my right. Scotch to my left. Spin magazine with coke in front of me. I grabbed for my wallet in my back pocket; I needed a credit card and crisp bill. I pulled a bill along with my American Express Black. I stared at my face on the cover of the magazine and rolled my shoulders back, preparing for my next high to invade my system through my nose.

  Fuck. I dumped out the contents of the clear bag onto the cover. It wasn’t much. My hands were instantly sweaty, my throat dry. I rolled up the bill and tightly set it aside. Then I started chopping any rocks into finely pulverized powder with my credit card, shaping four long, skinny lines with the edge of it. I picked up the rolled bill and placed it under my nose. With my index finger, I applied pressure to one side of my nostril as I sniffed the white powder with the other. My head lolled back, anticipating the drip to come. I waited, feeling the coke speed through my veins. I ran my fingers through my hair. I was always amazed how self-stimulation felt when I was high. My head rested on the back of the couch…

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Gia’s voice pierced right through me, killing any buzz I had. She took the breath right out of me. Think Abel. Think. Before you open your eyes.

  “What?” I tried to seem indifferent, eyeing her as she stood naked before me.

  Her hand motioned to the lines of coke in front of me. “And what in the fuck is this?” She shook. Fuck, I’d never seen her pissed.

  “Coke…and?” I questioned. I knew I was being a dick. However, I did have a role to play. I decided to play it true. It was Rock and Roll, right?

  “Since when do you do coke?” she screamed. “You’re out here getting high while I’m sleeping in the next room?” she asked.

  “So is this about me partaking without you or that I’m alone like a deviant addict?” I questioned. It was a fair enough question.

  “I didn’t know you were a drug addict. Excuse me for thinking your partying was occasional.” She stormed off, slamming the bedroom door shut.

  “Gia,” I called after her. “I told you this relationship would be like no other relationship you ever had.” I laughed to myself. Fuck I was high. She never heard me, I’m sure. She was pure. I was polluted. We were different. Yet we worked…well, at least until now.

  I swallowed down the rest of the scotch and tried to present myself as straight as possible. The truth was, I was fucked-up. I looked in the hallway mirror next to our bedroom door. My skin was pale…my pupils ate away the rest of the color of my eyes. I looked positively possessed. I decided not to press my luck and went to sleep in the second bedroom…

  Morning came way too fast. The sun peeked through the curtains and a silhouette in the corner of the room caught my attention. I sat up, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “Gia?” I called out, questioning the image before me. I wasn’t still fucked-up. I was fuck straight. I moved to the edge of the bed, confused. I was filled with pride and yet sickened with shame and guilt.

  Gia was kneeling on the floor before me—naked. The only thing she donned was a red scarf across her eyes. A perfect submissive pose. She was bowing. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, head bowed down. She looked so beautiful in that position. Her displayed vulnerability only made the fact that I’m such an asshole harder to swallow. My chest tightened. She was perfect. I was literally ill right now.

  “Don’t move, Beauty. I’ll be right back,” I said as I took off to the bathroom. I needed a shower. I didn’t even want to touch her after last night. How she saw me. I was so disgusted with myself that I wanted to puke.

  Fuck. I leaned against the vanity. My stomach rolled…sweat beading on my forehead. Guilt and shame weren’t something I could wash off in the shower. However, I didn’t want to touch her after using last night. The disappointment I saw in her eyes, I will never forget. How could I be a practicing Dom…her Dom, and yet be so reckless? Not to mention, what an unforgiving motherfucker I’d been in the past. Ugh. I made myself sick. Today would be a new day. She gave without thought. I took without conscience. I needed to be better. And for her, I’d be my best.

  Beauty still held her pose. I took a minute to soak in her thick chocolate locks in contrast to the crème carpet. Lush was one of the many words on my tongue. The man in me wanted to grab her by the hair and take her hard. But the Dom in me knew she had to be handled carefully. I didn’t want her to perceive this a rejection. Fuck. She should’ve been rejecting me, but as a good submissive, she showed me how dedicated she was to our relationship. A good Dom would never set aside his submissive who’d done nothing wrong. However, this was an extreme circumstance, and possibly a pivotal one in our relationship.

  I sat on the edge of the bed with my face in my hands. “Beauty, please look at me.”

  She slowly rolled up to a sitting pose…eyes down.

  “Come here, my beauty. Let me hold you, please.”

  She slowly looked up with tears in her eyes. Oh, fuck, this was going to be bad. I went to her and picked her up…going to her. My body language was such to let her know she’d done nothing wrong. It was about me. I cradled her as she was the most delicate blossom in my life.

  A sob escaped her and my heart shattered. “You…you don’t want me?” A tear ran down her cherub cheek. Oh, God, kill me now. Just fucking kill me. I am not worthy of her. Never was.

  “I want you more than my own life. More than my need for air. You have no idea.” I peppered her face with kisses. “I want to apologize to you, Gia. I lost control. No, that’s a fucking lie. I haven’t been in control for a while now. I’ve been using. I use when I’m emotional. But the point is…I’ve been using. Using to feel. Using not to feel. And for that, I’m sorry. I want to vow to you that will no longer happen—ever.” I grabbed her chin forcing her to look at me. She needed to understand the level of my commitment. I’d been a real douche. Time to set things straight. “Without you, there is no me, Beauty. I can’t lose you. And I’m afraid I haven’t done everything in my power to do right by you.” I followed those words with a kiss. A kiss of solemnity.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked nervously and I nodded. “Am I not enough for you? Is there something more I should be doing? Tell me and I’ll do it.” She never blinked. She was fucking serious…taking my pain and making it hers.

  “Beauty, I couldn’t ask for a better sub. I use drugs because I’m an asshole. That’s the plain and simple truth.” I kissed her tiny hands. “Your need for me fulfills my want for you,” I explained. However, I needed to go further. “The saying goes: A sub needs to be wanted and a Dom wants to be needed. They work because of each other. Period. Without a sub, there is no Dom. And vice versa. Do you understand?” She shook her head. However, I wasn’t convinced. “I want to be better. To be worthy of your submission. After last night, I don’t feel that I am. This is about where my head is. Not at all because of anything you’ve done or haven’t done. You hear me, Beauty? I’m in love with you, Gia. So fucking in love with you it hurts to look at you sometimes. Right now, all I want to do is make love to you. No kinky fuckery. Just you beneath me, letting me show you how much I love you—slowly.”

  And so, I spent the next hour showing her that a good Dom can submit to his nature and love his woman without the aid of whips, chains, and a good ole spreader bar. Just my cock, loving her pussy to the best of my ability. My arms holding the woman I love. Me. Not some gadget or device. My ha
nds. My heart. My mind. My love….

  Out with the old

  Gia’s family home was not more than a twenty-minute drive from the office. Junipers lined the quaint residential neighborhood giving a passerby a feel of upper middle-class. The block bustled with children playing basketball and riding their bikes, smiling in the face of the sun. However, I knew what evil lurked behind the door I was about to walk into. I was looking forward to meeting this poor excuse of a mother. If I wanted to help my son and Gia, I needed to get ahead or thwart any plots of destroying them. I knew all too well a grifter’s language was money. I had attaché case with enough of it to make her my bitch. Showtime.

  “Right here is fine, Jeffery,” I called to my driver, a long-time employee of the family who was not only my driver, but also my head of security.

  “Yes, sir. You want back-up?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

  “Not necessary. She’s not a physical threat. She’s in a wheelchair. Keep the car running; this won’t take long,” I said, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind me. I was positive by the motion of the curtain that she was well aware of my presence.

  I knocked none too gently on the door. I wasn’t in the mood for niceties. The door opened and a devil-may-care smile met me. “I’m Timothy Gunner. Are you Ms. Mastro?” I asked sternly.

  “Was. And I’ve been expecting you. Thought you’d be here sooner. Please, come in.” she said, leaning her weight on a cane.

  I nodded and walked past her, entering the foyer. I looked around. The inside was better than I anticipated. It dripped of the social climbing wench that she was. The furniture looked barely used and the baubles were very Franklin Mint. A pair of crutches was resting against the wall and I couldn’t help but think how very symbolic it was of a truly wicked mother. It may as well been a broom. With a sigh and a shake of my head, I sat in the armchair in front of me.