by Andrea Joan
Sir? Seriously. He can’t be more than five years younger than me.
“What the fuck is it?”
“It’s the NDA, Liam,” Sky whispers, handing over her pen. “There are a lot of celebrities in there, a lot of things that go on that they don’t want getting out to the public. It’s just a precautionary measure to ensure that it doesn’t.”
Everyone else is signing away without even fucking reading it, so I do the same because what other option do I have? I go where she goes. She must sense my wariness because she says, “Trust me, Liam. It’s all just smoke and mirrors to help the overindulgent Hollywood elite feel more comfortable in their natural habitat. It basically just says, ‘keep your mouth shut or we’ll bankrupt you.’” She grins. “Doesn’t really matter in the end though, does it?” The last part is said under her breath, but I still heard it and I know exactly what she’s referring to. That piece of shit Jeff.
“Can we go in now or what?” Amber huffs from the far corner of the room. She’s dressed in a short red dress that makes her look cheap, one that really puts into perspective what Sky is wearing. As much as I fucking hate the dress, it’s not because it makes her look cheap or slutty, quite the opposite actually; she looks fucking stunning, elegant even.
Amber must mistake my lingering look as an invitation. “Looking good, Liam.” She winks at me.
Gross.
Sky looks between me and Amber, and I realize I probably have the face of a guy caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Yes, I was looking at Amber, but only with disgust because I realize how much time I’ve wasted on girls like her after Ali’s death. I’m about to say something when a throat clears. It’s host boy.
“Ms. Barrett, can I get the password?” He flashes her a crooked smile and suddenly my palm twitches with the need to smack him over the head.
Sky leaves my side, sauntering behind the podium, walking as if she fucking owns the place, like she is about to own him. When she reaches his side, she fucking whispers in his ear with her hand grazing his back like they are fucking lovers, and I swear to god my body temperature rises about ten degrees. What the hell does she think she’s doing?
This is not my Skylar.
And this little whisper session is going on much longer than speaking a fucking stupid password should.
“Are we finished here?” I snap. “Can we go in or is she reciting the damn dictionary to you?” I hear Erik curse under his breath and Noah makes some indistinguishable sound. Skylar has the fucking nerve to mouth “what the hell” to me as if I’m the one doing something wrong. If her idea of having a fun night is flirting with anything that has a dick, she has a rude awakening coming her way.
Host boy remains stoic, professional, completely ignoring my outburst which further enrages me. The least he could do is have the decency to look scared, seeing as I could break his jaw without even breaking a sweat. He turns to the girl in the cage and nods. She pulls the lever and the cage opens, revealing a spiral staircase.
As pissed as I am, I can still recognize that was pretty fucking cool. Skylar leads the way down the staircase, and I follow close behind as everyone else falls in line. A haunting hip-hop version of Amy Winehouse’s “Back to Black” blasts through the club appropriately setting the scene before me. I thought I’d seen just about everything there is to see when it comes to the party scene, both when I had been boxing and then when I lost everything and descended into a darker level of what’s out there. But this, this is something else altogether.
The waitresses look like they stepped out of a Victoria Secret catalogue, walking around in nothing but body paint serving drinks to patrons seated on their own private suede and leather couches. More girls dressed like the one in front dance in similar gilded cages, some even hanging from the ceiling. As I walk by one table I see yet another supermodel lying naked on the table with sushi covering her body, people eating it off her. Famous people. People I recognize from award shows and music videos and fucking blockbuster movies. Even goddamn athletes. One eats a roll off her stomach, leaving an empty space. The person sitting next to him decides it’s the perfect spot to spread a line of coke and snort it right off her skin. The table past sushi coke girl’s table has a bowl filled with all kinds of colorful pills and thousand dollar champagne bottles.
I feel like I’m in the fucking Twilight Zone. Not that I’m one to judge; a place like this would have been my playground years ago. But this is hardly a place I can picture Sky in. Everyone seems to be snorting, smoking, or swallowing something, and it’s really starting to further strengthen my belief that Skylar has a drug problem. Sober people do not hang in a place like this.
“Skylar fucking Barrett, you sexy little minx.” A man no older than thirty comes running towards her, picking her up off the ground in a hug.
“Hey, what the fuck, man!” I quickly pull them apart and push Sky behind me. This night is truly fucking testing my patience.
“Liam, it’s cool.” Her hand wraps around my bicep as she moves out from behind me. “Liam, this is Monty, the club’s manager. Monty, this is Liam, my new bodyguard.”
Bodyguard. Not boyfriend. I thought with the blowjob in the car followed by the almost fucking, she had let yesterday go. I, however, am starting to get the distinct feeling she is punishing me.
“Hey man, nice to meet you.” He reaches his hand in my direction and I shake it. He seems harmless enough; maybe it’s the 90s spiked boy band hair and cheesy club promoter smile that somehow makes me not see him as a threat. A douche, but not a threat.
“I have your area all set up. Cass is already over there waiting. Come on, I’ll walk you over.” He links his arm with hers as he leads us all down a small set of stairs to a circular couch. I want to be pissed at him for touching her, but I know it’s not fair to him. My real anger at this moment is with her. She’s barely touched or acknowledged me since we got out of the car. Sky doesn’t push him away and take my arm instead. Monty doesn’t even know she’s taken because she introduced me as her fucking bodyguard. Which I am, but still.
“God, you’ve been MIA around here for a while now. Vacancy is never the same without you, Speedy.”
There’s that nickname again. The one that makes her cringe. Apparently it isn’t Cassiel-specific. Speaking of Cassiel, he sits on the couch downing a bottle of vodka, his arm thrown around a girl that is very much not Paige.
“My people!” He stands up, opening his arms like he’s the fucking welcoming committee. Christ, we’re almost dressed the fucking same. I would burn this shirt when I get home if it wasn’t a gift from Shay.
Sky immediately goes to hug him, making me want to punch him even more. Winter, Noah, and Erik all go in for a hug, too, before sitting down. When Amber walks up to him, he eyes her up and down like he wants to take her in the back and fuck her brains out. Which he can certainly do as long as it keeps him from touching my girl and keeps Amber away from eye fucking me like she’s getting paid.
“Hey there, Amber, I see you brought my favorite accessories out to play tonight” Cass says, grabbing her hip while he stares at her tits unapologetically. She giggles, eating up the attention and by the way they look at one another I’d be willing to bet if they did end up in the back of the club fucking, it wouldn’t be their first time.
I take a seat on the couch, Noah and Erik flanking my left leaving the right side open for Skylar. Unfortunately, Skylar is busy saying her goodbye to Monty and Amber takes that as her cue to sit. Right fucking next to me. I’m about to get up and move until Skylar turns around and sees us sitting side by side, her eyes narrowing on Amber’s leg, which is entirely too fucking close to mine. But the fact that she’s clearly jealous pleases me to no end. She wants to play games tonight and flirt with any guy she runs into, fine. She can have a taste of her own medicine.
She goes to take the empty seat next to Cass, like I figured she would. “So, Cass, where is Paige tonight?” Skylar asks, eyeing the girl sitting next to him.
“Paige
is done, Speedy. She told me she loved me, and you know how much I love to hear those three words.”
I shake my head. Fucking typical.
“What was that, bodyguard?” he snaps at me. Guess I said that out loud.
“I said typical,” I yell over the music to make sure he hears me.
“How so?”
“You’re just that typical guy afraid of love and commitment. Anytime someone says the dreaded fucking L-word, you run because it scares you. Pretty cliché, rock star.”
Skylar staring daggers at me makes me aware that she’s not impressed with my outburst. That combined with the fact that Amber has brazenly placed her hand on my thigh and I’ve yet to remove it. If Skylar has a problem with it, she can fucking say something. I expect Cass to shoot back with some smartass comment meant to provoke me, but instead he does the opposite. He laughs.
“Oh, bodyguard, you have no idea how wrong you are. I actually love hearing the dreaded L-word. I wait for it. Makes me fucking hard every time a girl says it to me. It’s the after that bores me. Much more fun to have fifty fucking girls tell me they love me than one, don’t you think?” His pupils are dilated and his jaw wiggles back and forth.
Jesus. He’s high as fuck.
“I personally love, love. How ‘bout you, Liam?”
Amber’s hand creeps higher up my thigh and my dick doesn’t even twitch, though Skylar’s eye does. When she gets off the couch I’m ready for her to call me out. Hell, I fucking crave it from her at this point. Instead, she pours herself a shot from one of the top shelf booze bottles littering our table.
“I want to make a toast!” She shouts it so loud that the DJ actually turns the music down and some of the people on the surrounding couches stop to pay attention. Apparently she can command a room of full-fledged celebrities and not even blink an eye. They all grab their drinks and hold them up, almost like it’s a practiced fucking dance they’ve performed before. Noah’s whispered “here we go” leads me to believe it has been.
“Let’s hear it, Speedy!” Cass encourages, throwing his shot back before she even makes a toast, then pouring himself another. Amber tries to shove a shot in my face and I wave her off. I’m not fucking drinking when I’m supposed to be watching her.
“Aww, come on, Liam. One won’t hurt.” She runs a hand through my hair and I back up, but not before Sky sees it. Shit. This is getting out of hand too fast.
Then she holds her shot in the air and speaks.
“To L.A.’s angels! May we all continue to collaborate down here in hell, where the liquor endlessly flows, the best drugs come free, and the roads are paved with cheap women,” Skylar makes sure to direct that last comment right at Amber before turning her icy glare toward me. “And if the night ends in ruin, let those left in our wake be spared from burning in hell with us. Sláinte Mhath!”
Skylar slams the double shot back as everyone around her does the same, the music turns back on, and everyone goes back to having a good fucking time. Except for me. Because now I’m really pissed. That toast was aimed at me. It wasn’t just her death stare in my direction that tipped me off, it was her parting words. I’ve heard my dad say the same thing many times in his bar before. It’s a specific Irish toast, and she shot it right at me. I so badly want to get her out of here. My muscles are screaming at me to remove her from this fucking club and force her to tell me what the hell is wrong with her. I don’t want to play these games. I don’t want to allow Amber to flirt with me just so I can get an equal rise out of Skylar. This whole night is a mistake like I knew it would be.
When I make a move to grab her arm, she breezes right past me. I don’t even think she noticed. She grabs for Winter and ushers her out onto the dance floor, and I sit back down feeling fucking defeated.
“Liam, sit down. You’re making me nervous,” Noah sighs. I run my hands through my hair realizing that I probably look like a caged fucking animal right now. “You good, man? Need a drink or something?” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Not going to drink while I’m supposed to be watching her,” I motion to Skylar who is now looking sexy as fuck with her hands in the air swaying to the music next to Winter. I will say one thing about this club; everyone seems to keep their distance when dancing. No guys are even coming near her, probably because they all have their own girls with them.
“Hard to watch, isn’t it?” Noah nods his head in Sky’s direction on the dancefloor.
“What’s that?”
Noah grabs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before motioning over to Skylar on the dance floor. He lights one up and offers it to me.
“No thanks. Don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here, Noah.”
He laughs. “Look around you, man. Smoking is the least of the sins going on in this place.” He lights up and takes a long drag. “She’s not always like this, you know. I see what she’s doing right now, and don’t take it personally. She goes through phases.”
“Look, you’re good for her. I can see that. She needs a strong hand. No one really holds her accountable for anything, me included. She doesn’t have family, really. That dick of a father doesn’t count, so I cave when it comes to her. Same with Winter.” He takes another long drag and I keep my eye on Skylar. It’s hard not to; seeing her dancing is making me crazy. “She’s had a shit hand in life and I think both Winter and I are so concerned with just making things easier for her that we forget how to actually help her.”
I nod because I get it. I’m about to ask more questions when a figure in the back corner across from me catches my eye.
It’s Jeff. And his eyes are on my girl.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE you doing here, you sick fuck!” It wasn’t really a question so much as a demand. One that he can’t really respond to, seeing as my forearm is against his trachea. Luckily for me, since he decided to creep in the corner of this fucking hear no evil, see no evil club, no one seems to notice or care. When I hear him start to choke on his own spit, I let up a little.
He coughs and chokes, his red face starting to turn pink. I’m fucking angry right now, so he’s lucky I don’t slip and accidentally break his neck.
“Fuck man! What the hell?”
“I told you, I warned you not to breathe the same fucking air as her, yet here you are.” I come for him again, but he backs up.
“I’m not here for her, asshole!”
“Oh right, so this is just some big fucking coincidence then. You got dressed up in some fancy fucking douche suit to come party with a bunch of your Hollywood friends. Fucking spare me.”
“Jesus, you’re a real prick.”
“You have no idea. Now get the fuck out of here before I put you out.”
“I’m here on a job! I can’t fucking leave.”
“What?” I ask in disbelief. When he points over to an actor I recognize, I call him on his bullshit.
“Give me a fucking break. You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t care what you believe, Liam. Go ask him yourself if you don’t believe me.”
“I saw you watching her!”
“Yeah, because I was shocked to see her here. It’s just a fuckin coincidence, and yeah, I was looking because I was surprised and happy to see her doing so well. Having some damn fun.”
“Stop talking about her like you know her.” I shove him, not being able to contain myself. I’m shocked as shit when he shoves me right back. And still no one steps in or says a damn thing.
“I do know her. Knew her longer than you.”
“Don’t test me, Jeff. I’m starting to get the distinct feeling that I could kill you in here and no one would even fucking notice.”
He straightens his tie and runs a hand across his hair, attempting to fix it, I’m guessing. “Listen, I already told you I’m not the one you need to worry about, and I meant it. Things aren’t always what they seem, Liam. If you care about her, if you love her—”
“You mean like you think you do,” I sneer in h
is face.
“I do care about her, yes. Love her too.” I’m going to hit him. “But not in the way you think. Jesus, I’m almost twenty years older than her. I have a daughter close to her age.”
Twenty years? Never would have guessed that, not that age really matters. He could still be obsessed with her. She caught him in her room for fuck’s sake.
“Then why sue her? If you care about her, why fucking sue her?”
He shakes his head, having the decency to look ashamed. “I can’t tell you that.”
This is fucking pointless. “You’re a pathetic lying piece of shit.”
“You’re probably right. But right now you should stop worrying about me and start wondering why your girl walked into the garage with Cassiel Logue a few minutes ago.”
I snap my head around, looking for Sky on the dance floor where she was before. She isn’t there.
“Fuck!” I take off through the club, bumping and pushing my way through the people dancing until I make my way to the exit. Or entrance. Whatever the fuck it is. I immediately see Skylar and Logue in the back of the parking lot. I slow my pace down as I approach, trying to keep my anger in check, but it’s clear whatever they are talking about is intense because Cassiel is getting a little too fucking animated for my liking, encroaching into her personal space. The closer I get the more I hear.
“Cass, you’re high. Go home.”
“As if you care anymore, Speedy. You got bodyguard to fuck you whenever you need it now, don’t you?” He takes a pull of his beer. I can tell neither one of them hears me approaching, and I’m curious as to where this conversation is going.
“Stop calling me that, Cass, for the last time! And this has nothing to do with Liam. You and I decided to stick to being friends a long time ago. You need to sleep whatever this is off before you do something you regret.”
That’s when Cass sees me. He points his bottle at me, causing Skylar to look. “You think he’s going to stick with you, Skylar? You think he’ll stay with you when he finds out how fucked up you really are?”
