Defile

by Jessica Prince

  But none of that mattered, because she didn’t care. She was through, and left me less than half the man I was when I had her.

  Eventually that fury turned to hate.

  I hated her for leaving. I hated her for breaking her promise. I hated her for not letting me explain.

  But mostly I hated her because I couldn’t stop loving her no matter how hard I tried.

  Chapter Nine

  Declan

  Now

  She looked like a goddamn walking wet dream. And it fucking pissed me the hell off. I saw her the second she stepped into the auditorium, on the arm of that pussy who crooned touchy-feely shit about love and The One and all that other bullshit.

  It was the first time I’d seen her in person in… Jesus Christ. Had it really been more than ten years? It felt like she’d just walked out on me yesterday. And while I was standing there, miserable and bleeding out from the sight of her, she’d been laughing and smiling like she didn’t have a goddamn care in the world.

  That was why I’d made the decision to change the song we were set to perform. Originally we were supposed to play one of the singles from our last album, but when I saw Tatum’s happy, cheerful fucking face and felt my heart shrivel in my chest, I talked the guys into performing one of the new ones we’d just laid down in Garrett’s studio. It was rough, and painful. It exemplified every chaotic feeling swirling around inside of me after laying eyes on the woman who’d destroyed me.

  I’d written it after watching Garrett fall ass over elbow for Gwen. Watching the two of them lose themselves in each other brought back all the painful memories I’d buried deep down inside of me. I was happy for my brother, over the fucking moon. But seeing that shit still killed because I’d had it once. Then she ripped my goddamn world apart.

  They knew why I wanted to play that song. The second I suggested it, they knew she was there, sitting in the audience. From the looks on their faces, they weren’t happy about the passive-aggressive ‘fuck you’ I was handing to my ex, but they also knew I needed it. I’d given up all the shit that got me through a long time ago. There were no more pills, no more powder. Sure, I still drank, but nowhere near how much I used to. I didn’t smoke. Pussy was only a temporary fix. The only real relief I got from the memories of Tate was through the music.

  So, we played “Soulless” live for the very first time. And the crowd fucking loved it.

  My fingers moved over the strings of my guitar like it was second nature as I crooned the words into the microphone for the world to hear.

  “The memories of you still burned into my brain

  Remembering the feel of sinking deep inside you

  The way you gasped and moaned, hearing you breathing my name

  You took it all away, leaving me broken and shattered

  Bleeding and dying, like none of it mattered

  Now I’m standing here, half a man

  Where my heart once was is nothing but an empty hole.

  Was it even real?

  Did you ever care?

  You vindictive bitch with no soul.”

  Growling those lyrics into the mic was a catharsis like no other. Once I stepped off that stage, I was healed. I could finally take a real breath. The song was dark and gritty. It was fucking perfect, and the fact that our fans felt the same way gave me a high like no drug ever could. They went wild, screaming and cheering, begging for more as we left the stage. It was more intense, more pleasurable than a hit of coke, or the feeling of blowing my wad down an eager groupie’s throat.

  Fuck, I loved my job.

  When we got to the after party, I was looking forward to chilling with my brothers, having a few drinks, maybe picking up some available pussy for the night. Then she appeared again, like a goddamn nightmare, bringing everything back. And I knew my night was shot.

  Tatum Valentine.

  The only girl I’d ever loved.

  The woman who’d been my absolute everything.

  She promised she’d never leave me. But when life got hard and I fucked up, instead of sticking by me like she’d sworn to do, she bailed.

  She was the one I was supposed to be experiencing all this glory with. None of the success or fame or money mattered if I didn’t have her to share it with. I knew I could’ve made it right between us if she had just stuck around. But she refused to give me a chance.

  I still had my music, and I got off on giving that to our fans like nothing else, but everything else we’d worked so long and hard for was still absolutely pointless because she wasn’t by my side.

  I’d spent the past hour tracking her every move, that motherfucker she arrived with never outside touching distance. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself stop staring.

  When I finally got sick of myself, I headed for the bar, ready to drown my despair in top-shelf booze. Garrett had Baby Mama on his arm. Killian already found his hookup for the night. And Mason was already good and fucking drunk. That left me alone to wallow in my misery.

  The second Gwen got up to go to the bathroom, Tatum headed over in Garrett’s direction, and I knew, I fucking knew she’d been just as aware of me as I had her this whole time. There wasn’t a single ounce of surprise on her beautiful face when she sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She’d known where our table was and had just been waiting for an opening. A time when I wasn’t there so she could say hello to an old friend.

  That realization settled in my chest, creating a pleasant warmth that made me smile. It was proof she wasn’t unaffected, that the happy-go-lucky attitude she was exuding was all an act.

  “Hey, sexy. What’s got you smiling?”

  I turned from Tatum to the blonde who’d just sidled up to me and pressed her plastic tits into my arm.

  “Just in a good mood, sweetheart,” I answered, giving her the smirk I knew would make her panties wet.

  “Mmm,” she hummed seductively. “Is that so? Well, how do you feel about seeing if we can make that mood even better?”

  I was definitely down for that. “Tell me something, gorgeous. You ever had nine inches of pure rock god shoved down your throat?”

  The chick giggled like a kid on Christmas morning. “Can’t say I have.”

  Standing from the barstool, I downed the last of my drink and set the empty tumbler down. Then I hooked my arm around her waist and started leading her away from the party.

  “Looks like it’s your lucky day then.”

  Tatum

  God, that song.

  That stupid freaking song, sung by that stupid freaking asshole, wouldn’t stop playing in my head.

  It made me hate him all over again. Which was something I hadn’t thought was possible. Leave it to Declan Forrester to prove me wrong once again.

  I wanted to march up to him and punch him in his perfect, sexy nose. How dare he accuse me of being the one without a soul. I didn’t break us. He did! He pushed and pushed until I had no choice but to leave. He’d chosen Chris and that goddamn rock star lifestyle that snake was promising over me.

  Vindictive bitch? What an epic prick!

  Camden’s soft, gentle voice pulled me from my sour thoughts. “You okay, honey?”

  Looking up at him, I offered a kind smile, thankful that I at least had a friend by my side to combat the pain from seeing him again.

  “I’m fine,” I said as the party swelled around us. “Just a little out of sorts. You know I’m not a big fan of all this Hollywood stuff.”

  “You and me both, babycakes. That’s why I forced you to come to this shindig with me. You’re the only real person here.”

  I let out a snort and bumped my shoulder into his side. “Hey, Mr. Celebrity. You’re the one who wanted to be famous, remember?”

  “Damn,” he grumbled as another woman who’d been nipped and tucked within an inch of her life passed us. “I seem to be forgetting that a lot lately.”

  Camden’s cheerful mood and all-around good nature was infectious. That was
part of the reason we were such close friends. I met him five years earlier when he came for an open mic night at the bar where I waitressed in San Francisco. His voice was what drew me to him, but it was his bluesy alternative style that kept me hanging by every thread.

  We got to talking, and after about a year of friendship, I finally trusted him enough to tell him the whole sordid story about Declan Forrester, lead singer of Civil Corruption.

  He hadn’t reacted the way I’d expected. I’d grown very leery when it came to trusting people over the years, and the more time that passed, the more jaded I became. There were people from my past who knew my connection to the band and reached out hoping I could get them into the inner sanctum. Then there were those who I met after everything imploded. They were just as bad, if not worse. As soon as they found out the truth, they begged and pleaded for me to reopen that old wound. “Come on, Tate, it’s just one phone call!” or “You used to know the band? Think you could hook me up?”

  They didn’t give a single shit whether talking to any of those guys again would hurt or not. They just wanted their shot with a celebrity.

  Camden wasn’t like that at all. He didn’t care who I knew. He found out my appreciation for music, and we built a solid foundation based on that and that alone. When he started showing me his lyrics the part of myself I’d buried since things went sour with Declan came rushing to the surface. He’d been so impressed with the revisions and additions I made to his songs that he asked me to help him write his album. I did, as a friend, but Camden had taken it a step further and given me creative credit on an album that eventually led him to fame and fortune, hitting the Billboard charts at number six and staying there.

  That had been the very same album that led him to win countless statues. And tonight he’d added another one courtesy of the AMAs. For every nomination he got, he forced me to tag along. He said if it hadn’t been for me, he’d still be singing on street corners for change.

  He was full of shit. I barely even tweaked his songs, but to hear him tell it, I might as well have written every damn track myself. Camden Knight was a musical genius. I’d only ever known one person better, and I refused to give him a single ounce of praise.

  In the end, I got serious bankroll. He got his dream of hearing his songs on the radio. And our friendship not only survived, it thrived.

  “People don’t realize the fame’s not worth it until they can’t get rid of it,” I mumbled under my breath, since we were surrounded by nothing but fame whores.

  “Ain’t that the damn truth,” Camden grumbled. “So, you’re really okay?”

  I gave him a side-eyed stare and replied, “I’m totally fine.”

  He lifted a skeptical brow. That was just another thing he was good at, lifting a single brow. When he gave me that look, I wanted to smack it off. And for good reason. The comments that usually followed were usually bound to piss me off.

  “Really? Because I don’t know how fine I’d be if the ex-love of my life called me a vindictive, soulless bitch for millions of people to hear.”

  Case and point why I want to slap him.

  “You caught that, huh?” I deadpanned, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server.

  “Hard to miss with the way that prick was throwing it out.”

  I tossed back a large, refreshing gulp and sighed, ignoring the way my chest constricted at the memory of that hateful song. “Yeah well, that’s Deck for you. Now can we please stop talking about this before someone overhears? Last thing I need is for people to think I have any sort of connection to that asshole.”

  Casting a glance from the corner of my eye, I looked to the couches where I’d last seen him and the rest of the guys. Garrett was currently sitting by himself, and my heart cried out to go talk to him.

  “You mind if I leave you to fend for yourself for a bit?” I asked Camden. “There’s an old friend I’d like to talk to.”

  Just then, a brunette with scarlet lips came sauntering past with a look pointed Camden’s way that spoke to all the things she was willing to do if he gave her a few minutes of his time.

  I knew he caught the look same as I had when he mumbled, “Oh, I think I can find a way to fill my time,” and quickly followed after her.

  With a good-natured laugh and a shake of my head, I turned from watching him disappear into the crowd and headed toward my past.

  Chapter Ten

  Tatum

  “OMG! Are you Garrett Wilder? Can I get your autograph? I’m like you’re biggest fan!”

  Garrett’s head came up, a pissed-off expression on his face, at least until his green gaze landed on me. Then he shot to his feet, the guy he’d been having a conversation with before I showed up all but forgotten.

  “Tatum fuckin’ Valentine. Christ, you’re a sight, sweetheart.” He scooped me up into a massive bear hug, lifting me right off my feet. Garrett had always been one of the biggest guys I’d ever known; even as a kid he was a head above the rest of our class. “God, it’s good to see you. Miss you like crazy, woman,” he exclaimed once my heels were back on the ground. The excitement pouring off of him caused a knot of tears to form and crawl up my throat, threatening to choke me.

  “I’ve missed you too,” I croaked as wave after wave of nostalgia crashed over me. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Fuck me,” he grunted, jerking me back into his massive body. “Give me another hug, girl. Jesus, it’s been too fuckin’ long.”

  The people he’d been talking to were long gone by the time the hug ended, and I’d beaten back the threatening tears. “You have a few minutes to spare, or is Mr. Rock Star needed for something special?”

  “Still such a smartass,” he chuckled. “Got all the time in the world for you, girl. Take a load off.” He pulled me down onto the couch next to him and made himself comfortable. It amazed me how easy it was to be in his presence after so long. It felt like no time had passed at all since the last time I saw him.

  “You look great, Garrett. More ink than I remember,” I said, pointing at his bulging arms, “but still great.”

  He flashed that dimpled smile I remembered from when we were kids. “Told you after the first tat, ink’s addictive.”

  Man, I missed him. And I missed the other guys too. But I knew I couldn’t ask about them without Declan being included, so I had to keep to the safer topics, like those that were solely about Garrett.

  “So,” I started, a teasing smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “I saw you with that beautiful brunette earlier tonight. You finally settling down? She didn’t look like your typical groupie type.”

  Something in his expression shifted dramatically—for the better. Just the mention of the woman made his face light up so damn bright it was like staring at the sun.

  “Gwen’s something else, isn’t she? Never known a more beautiful woman in all my life.”

  A part of me silently cheered while a smaller, quieter part grew just the slightest bit envious. I’d had that once. Then the jerk went and ruined everything. “So it’s serious?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know.

  “As serious as it can get. We’re working through a rough patch, but that girl’s it for me.”

  “Wow.” My eyes bugged out. “So you’re engaged, then?”

  “Not yet.” He continued to beam. “But soon enough if I have my way. Tate, you won’t believe it. Wish with all my heart I could’ve reached out to you and told you sooner, but… I have a daughter.”

  “Oh my god,” I gasped before clamping my hand over my mouth.

  “Three years old. Name’s Liddy. Most beautiful little girl you’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re a daddy,” I whispered reverently. “Garrett. That’s…. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Took a while for me to pull my head outta my ass, but I couldn’t be happier than I am now, and it’s all thanks to those two.”

  A laugh bubbled from my chest. “Why am I not surprised that it took you a bit to see what was in front o
f you. Never were the sharpest knife in the block.”

  His head fell back on a bark of happy laughter. “You aren’t wrong there.” Then Garrett grew serious. “I want you to meet her, Tate. Both of my girls. I don’t want another decade to pass before I see you again. Losing you was like losing a piece of me, and I know Mace and Kill feel the same damn way.”

  God, he was killing me. “Garrett.” I spoke quietly, giving my head a shake. “You know it’s not as easy as that.”

  His expression grew stormy as a frown snuffed out the earlier happiness. “You were our friend too. He’s not the only one who lost you. It’s not fuckin’ fair.”

  I gave him a sad smile, shrugging a shoulder. “Life’s rarely ever fair, Garrett. You know that as well as I do. But….” I couldn’t believe what I was about to say, but there was just no stopping it. “I’ll try. Okay? I want to meet your girls too.”

  That seemed to make him happy, because the dark mood that was suddenly surrounding us lightened in the blink of an eye. “All I can ask, sweetheart. Now tell me about you.” One of his eyebrows shot up. “Camden Knight? Really?”

  Letting out a giggle, I smacked him in the chest. “First of all, Camden’s just a friend. One of my best friends. Secondly, whether you want to admit it or not, you know damn good and well his music is amazing.”

  “First of all,” he started, mimicking the tone I’d just used, “Used to be that me and the guys were your best friends, so that sucks. But… I’ll give you the second one. His shit’s not terrible.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass along your kind words,” I laughed before my smile and blissful mood both fell flat. “I should probably go. We both have dates we need to get back to.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “But yours is totally platonic, right? I’d hate to have to track the dude down and beat the shit out of him at such a swank party.”