Liquid Redemption (Liquid Regret Book 4)

by MJ Carnal

  Copyright © 2017 by MJ Carnal

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To the reader: If you have downloaded this book for free or have downloaded from a site other than Amazon, Barnes and Noble or iBooks, this may be a pirated copy. Please contact the author immediately. Piracy is illegal. Please honor this author and all other authors buy purchasing legal copies of their work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, or incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locations, or events is purely coincidental.

  The book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Cover Model: Jared Seth Coy

  Cover Photographer: Golden of FuriousFotog

  Cover Designer: Cover Me, Darling

  Editor: Kellie Montgomery (first half) Dr. H Crocker (second half)

  Dedication

  To my readers.

  You make my dreams come true.

  Prologue

  “Scoot over,” I whisper through the darkness. This is the third group home I’ve been in this year and this one scares me. “I’m freezing. Let me in.”

  “I’m tired.” She groans but moves over to make room for me.

  “I can’t sleep.” I pull her close to me. Her body heat helps me stop shivering.

  “We’re going to get in trouble if they catch us.” Kat opens her eyes and looks at me. Those beautiful blue eyes get me every time. She’s twelve, exactly one year older than I am to the day. She’s the first girl I’ve ever found pretty. She makes me want to do things I’m not sure I even understand.

  “I’m freezing. The heat is broken again.” I pull her as close as I can.

  “Ok, Lenny. You can stay. But as soon as the sun comes up, you need to go.” She nuzzles her head under my chin. Her tiny body wraps around me. She is my salvation. She’s the first person I’ve ever had a connection with.

  Kat has been here for about a month. The day she showed up, my world changed. The first night she was here, I could hear her crying and I snuck into her room to see if she was ok. She was so small and I wanted to protect her. She told me her dad had killed her mom and took off. She didn’t have any other family so social services placed her here. I wanted to cry for her. She was so sad. I can’t remember my parents so this is normal life to me. I can’t imagine having a home and then ending up somewhere like this. This house is cold and dark and they hardly feed us. There are so many of us here and no one ever comes to check on us.

  Until Kat showed up, I misbehaved to see if I could get reassigned. Once she showed up, I decided I needed to be here. I’ve been watching everything I say or do in order to stay. I’m not sure I’d survive without her.

  I rub her back and she pushes her body into mine. I’m full of hormones. I want to touch her. I want to kiss her. I want her to know I think she’s pretty.

  “Kitty Kat.” She looks up at me. “You make my stomach feel nervous.”

  She blushes. “You make mine feel funny too.”

  “I want to kiss you.” I tremble as I wait for her answer. She nods her head and I have the go ahead.

  She scoots up so our faces are close. I close my eyes and my lips meet hers. Neither of us knows what we’re doing. It doesn’t matter. There are fireworks. Our teeth clank together; my tongue is awkward but her mouth is heaven. She moans and my body becomes hard. I’m afraid to touch her anywhere. I don’t want the kiss to end. Her dark hair falls around me and it feels like silk. She smells like honey. She’s perfect.

  The door slams open and the lights flip on. Kat and I fly apart. It’s too late. He’s caught us.

  “Lenny, go into your room and pack your stuff. You’re out of here. Kat, get down to the kitchen and start cleaning. There’s no more sleeping tonight,” his voice booms and I’m sure he’s woken up everyone in the house.

  I run past him in the doorway. I grab my duffle bag and throw my few possessions inside. I’m terrified he’ll try to hurt her. I wanted to protect her and all I did was screw it up. I’ll never get close to another woman again. If I can’t protect them, then I’m not a man.

  “Let’s go!” He yells from the door, keys in his hands. “I’m dropping you off with the case worker. She’ll find you another home. I’m disappointed in you, Lenny. I can’t have that happening under my roof.”

  “What about Kat?” I’m only asking because I want to make sure she’ll be safe.

  “She’s gone as soon as they find her another place. Trust me, it will be nowhere near where you’re going.”

  Chapter 1

  “Oh God, Chance. Don’t stop!”

  I look down at Molly. Millie? Shit. I’m so bad with names. Her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back. I can feel her body start to tense and I know she’s close. I should feel like a king but this whole new woman every night thing is getting a little mundane. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Why can’t I connect to anyone?

  Pounding on the wall brings my head up and I smirk. Max is yelling from the next room to give it a rest. Now it’s game on. I push into her even harder, making her scream. Max pounds again and I laugh to myself.

  I purposely ask to have the room next to Max while we’re on the road. This cat and mouse game he’s got going on with Rachel is old news and it’s time he takes some action. Making him sexually frustrated every night is my special way of nudging him in the right direction. I have a reputation to keep up and pissing Max off is just the icing on the cake.

  “Chance!” Her scream pierces my ears and I want to pound my chest.

  I reach under her ass and pull her closer so I can drive deeper. She pants for breath. Her pussy squeezes my cock, begging for release but I’m not ready yet.

  “I can’t.” She thrashes her head back and forth and claws at my arms.

  “You will.” It’s not a request. It’s a command. “You will until I say you’re done.”

  She tries to protest but I put my hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen and I lean forward and bite her nipple. She shatters around my cock again.

  “That’s a good girl.”

  I pull out and she’s shocked when I roll off of her. I push off the bed and stretch my back, her juices dripping from my fully erect cock.

  “Where are you going? You didn’t finish.” She sits up and looks genuinely concerned. How sweet.

  Poor girl has no idea. It’s not about finishing. It’s about knowing I can if I want to. It’s the only human connection I have, aside from the guys in the band, and even that is guarded. My life is an empty shell. It always has been. Well, maybe not always. There was a time when I felt connected to someone but that was a lifetime ago and I won’t ever let it happen again. She was ripped away in an instant. I couldn’t handle losing someone again.

  “Babe, It’s all about you. If you felt good, my job here is done.” I pat her head like she’s nothing but a play thing. And that’s exactly what she is.

  They never catch on to that. They come to me with stars in their eyes. They all think they’re the one, the one who can turn Lennon Chancellor into a one-woman man. That shit is never going to happen. There’s not a pussy in this world that would make me want to come back for seconds. Not a single one.

  “Come back to bed and let me hold you.” Her voice is seriously working my last nerve. But I’m a gentleman and I will let her stay. Even if I know I’m an asshole, the women don’t.

/>   “I will, gorgeous. I just need to get a drink of water. You want anything, baby?” I hold my key card up so she can see it. She shakes her head no and I’m out the door.

  I feel less claustrophobic in the hall. It’s quiet and no one is out here to bother me. I have a routine after every show. I pick a groupie, head back to the hotel, bury myself in her for a few hours and then pace the hall until I’m ready to sleep. They’ve always fallen asleep when I get back and it lets me avoid the dreaded cuddle they’re all so desperate for. I like my personal space when I’m done. The sex is just a way to decompress but the pacing, that’s because I can’t connect to anyone else.

  “Chance?” I jump.

  “You scared the shit out of me, Seymour. Why aren’t you asleep?”

  Joshua shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. I have that feeling I get sometimes. Something big is coming. Sure as shit wish I knew if it was good or bad.”

  “Got a hot piece of ass in my bed if you need a turn.” I’m kidding but it doesn’t come out that. I shake my head. “That was fucked up. Sorry.”

  He smirks. “You know the rule. No women for me. I have to keep my head clear. I can’t have some woman pulling my focus. You boys are enough to worry about.”

  I hold up my water and tip it in his direction. I know we’re a fucked up bunch and he deals with all our shit like a champ. We’d be in jail, or worse, if Joshua hadn’t guided us in the right direction. When he came on as our manager, we knew we had to get our lives in order and he made sure we did. We’ve stumbled a few times but for the most part, he’s made sure that we’ve kept our noses clean and our private lives as private as possible. If the press would fuck off, life would be perfect.

  The damn paparazzi is all over us. I can’t leave my house without flash bulbs going off. What I wouldn’t give for a day to go out and do whatever I wanted without constantly looking over my shoulder. When we set out to conquer the music scene, none of us had any clue we were giving up every second of privacy.

  When Della died, we were swarming with bodyguards. I’m six feet of solid muscle and I spend half my life in the gym. My exercise of choice is krav maga. I know I could hold my own. But, her death rocked us to the core and we were paranoid and scared. Add to that, the press came at us like hoards of zombies, exploiting our sadness and fear and stalking Harley to the breaking point. I didn’t even feel like I could take a shit without a man standing guard and a camera shoved in my face.

  My fingers twitch. It’s a nervous habit I developed the day I was forced out of a foster home and thrown out on the streets to fend for myself. It’s the reason I picked up a guitar. My fingers would twitch and people would look at me like I was crazy. I needed an excuse and the bass guitar was the perfect one. Deep down, I knew I was a little crazy.

  “You need to get some sleep, Chance. It’s been a long trip. Try to get a few hours and we’ll meet back on the bus after breakfast. With everything going on with Max and his father, we need everyone alert and rested. I have no idea what kind of shit storm is coming.” Joshua lets himself into his room and looks over his shoulder at me before disappearing inside. He nods his head and gives me a ghost of a smile.

  I roll my neck. Fuck this. I’m going back to my room. I pray she’s asleep. I can’t handle anything else tonight.

  Chapter 2

  I’ve been on reporter cloud nine since Senator Maxwell called his press conference announcing Max Callum was his son. What a jackpot. There has to be so much more to the story and I’m determined to find out what it is.

  Senator Maxwell has always given me the creeps. There’s something about that man that just doesn’t sit right with me. And that wife of his. Her fake tits and fake nails and Botox induced surprised face, just pure yuck. I would never have guessed Max was any part of that.

  Today’s press conference will shed new light on everything. Joshua Seymour, the band manager for Liquid Regret, called exclusive press in for their response to the senator’s announcement.

  Noise at the front catches my attention. These men are gorgeous, every last one of them. Max looks like he hasn’t showered in a week and has spent every night with his mouth attached to the lip of a bottle. The poor guy has a story to tell. If he doesn’t tell it tonight, it will be my personal mission to get it out of him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we called this press conference today to discuss some of the events that have come to light over the past few weeks. As always, these men are my priority and at any point if I feel like this conference is getting out of hand, I will end it.” Joshua is stern as his passive aggressive threats do nothing but amp up my desire to capture the story. “I will open the floor to questions as soon as Damien is finished discussing what is next for the band.”

  I zone out while D’Rey talks about the tour and the next album. My eyes are focused on Max as he attempts not to fall asleep at the table. What the hell is wrong with him? This is not the Max that the world has seen. Chance leans over and asks him something and Max just smirks.

  Chance sits back in his seat and glares in my direction. I’d take it personally but I really don’t give a shit. He’s entitled and annoying as hell. His harem of women proves he’s not someone I want to associate with outside of my job. He’s just someone I can use to get more information. I make a mental note to buy a better push up bra.

  I stand to ask a question. Max’s no comment answer pisses me off. I can be a relentless bitch when I want to be. I fire off another question before they can tell me to sit down.

  “So you’re saying that none of the things Senator Maxwell said were true? He didn’t fund the band? He’s always been a very reputable man.” I gag to myself as I ask the question.

  “Listen, babe. We’ve lived in neighborhoods you don’t even know exist. We’ve lived in places where we had to fight the cockroaches for space on the floor so we could sleep. We’ve hustled pool, we’ve won instruments in poker games. I’m pretty sure we’ve had weeks at a time when we didn’t have a hot meal. If that is what you want to call funding his son’s dream, then I suppose he did.” Chance’s voice is quiet but I know he wants to yell at me. His eyes warn me that I’m dangerously close to crossing the line.

  “While he sat in his warm house with power and running water, we were performing on the streets and working odd jobs to make ends meet. Reputable or not, that’s our reality,” Damien chimes in.

  I sit down and my brain goes into overdrive. I knew there was more to the story. This is going to turn into a battle of he said, he said. But, these men look genuine. It’s a stark contrast to the senator’s smug story.

  Questions about the senator’s political future are rapid fired at the men and they handle it with as much grace as possible. The bitch in me is awakened and I want to push the envelope just a little more.

  I stand up and aim my recorder at Max. “Do you think your actions or lifestyle will have a negative impact on his run for the vice presidency?”

  Max is on his feet in an instant. I know immediately I’ve pushed too far. For a brief second, I feel guilt. It’s washed away the second Max drops the bomb on the crowd.

  “Katrina is it?” I nod my head at him. “No. I don’t believe my lifestyle will impact dear ole Dad in any way. Want to know what I think might impact his road to The White House? Maybe the fact that his wife allowed random men to come over and rape me. Perhaps it was the fact that they would drug me, shoot me up with God knows what until I passed out and abuse me in ways no child should ever know. Over and over and over again. Maybe what will impact his dream is that he knew about it and allowed it to keep happening. Or that he gave me money every month to keep it quiet. Hush money that mostly went to charities for other families of abuse. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  I’m stunned into silence. A sick feeling takes over and I sit down in an attempt to quell the nausea. I don’t know Max personally but his hurt rips my heart in two. The crowd is buzzing and I can’t say a word. Max is being pulled off stage but his eyes are still locked on
me.

  “So, to answer your question, no, Ms. King, I don’t think my lifestyle will be what keeps that piece of trash out of office. I think it will be karma that does that.”

  Tears pool in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I don’t cry. Not for anyone. I pushed him to expose his most personal secret. I know I can’t take all the blame but somehow, I can’t help but feel personally responsible. I need to figure out a way to make this right. I need to find a way to get Max alone. I need to let him tell his story the way he wants it told.

  I see all the other reporters outside the gate. Their flashes are going off and I know Max is close. I came up from the beach and snuck around his porch before jumping the fence and finding myself alone in his front yard. I’m shocked the others didn’t follow me.

  As Max pulls into his driveway, a photographer comes out of the bushes and snaps a picture before he runs off. When Max spots me on the front walk, he’s out of his car. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be breathing. I steel myself for a fight. I need him to listen to me. A shitty childhood is something we have in common. It’s too late to fix mine but it’s not too late for him.

  “Katrina.” He spits my name in anger. “Get the hell off my property before I call the cops.”

  I put my hand up. “Wait. I just want to get the story right. I’m not like them. I don’t want to expose every skeleton in the closet. I just want the truth.”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can’t trust anyone in the press. Maybe you aren’t like the rest of them but I’m done talking and you need to get off my property.”

  “Max, I can tell the story you want me to tell.” I’m persistent and I can see the anger flash across his eyes. I’ve lost him.

  Chapter 3

  Speeding through the Hollywood Hills to get to Max is not something I had planned on doing tonight. I had much better plans with the brunette currently swimming in my pool. Things changed when the SOS call came and his bodyguard and I were on the way in seconds. I knew this was going to be a shit storm, I just had no idea the press would be all over his yard tonight.