Out From Under

by Selene Chardou

  Eventually, he made it to the studio just in time to see Trilogy leaving as he parked his vehicle. Juli, the lead singer, looked pissed off as she lit a cigarette and talked to the other two members in hushed tones.

  He locked his doors with his key fob and walked inside the studio used by all Introspect Records’ artists. It was huge, state of the art, as it should be since the label was a major player in the music industry and musicians in every genre. On top of the rock division, Radioactive Records, there was also hip-hop division, known as Downtown Records; a country division, called Nash Records; and lastly, a pop division, Uptown Records.

  Linx stepped into the building and strolled directly to the studio area they always used.

  His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment, before it began again in a slow, throbbing thud against his chest.

  Talia spoke to a young woman who had a gorgeous, athletic body. She wasn’t emaciated like most of the skanky, L.A. rock star-fucking chicks. She had a little meat on her bones and the jeans she wore hugged her ass like they were designed for her. She had on a white, short-sleeved blouse in that peasant style, and a pair of three-inch, black closed-toed shoes—obviously designer, even to him—on her feet.

  Her hair was long and dark, reaching past her shoulders with natural-looking chestnut highlights and the skin that was exposed was olive and clear, clean and beautiful. Not one tattoo marred all that perfection and all he could hope was when she turned his way, she would be butt ugly. “Good from far, but far from good” was a motto he and Niko shared as a secret inside joke.

  Talia spotted Linx and ushered him over.

  He couldn’t believe he had the energy to stroll in their direction with the woody he was carrying in his pants. He adjusted himself on the way, and finally made it into their presence.

  Her scent hit him first; it was a mixture of vanilla and freesia, completely captivating and extremely seductive. Sky blue eyes in the face of an angel met his and he was a goner, just like that.

  She was fucking drop-dead beautiful and all this time, we have never met. This is a travesty of the first magnitude.

  Her face barely had any make up; all she wore was a light sprinkling of cover-up and red-tinted lip gloss on those full, beautiful lips.

  “Sorry, Kris is also running late so I will make a quick introduction. Linx, this is my cousin and Trista, this is Linx. He plays bass for—”

  “Yeah, I know,” she answered smartly. “Or did you forget I have been a fan of Winter’s Regret before they became an overnight sensation and the sudden change in the…uh…lead singers.”

  Linx continued to stare at her though he knew it was rude, but she met his eyes easily and held out her right hand. Her nails were short, yet manicured, and painted a deep purple that looked black against her skin.

  His heart hammered in his body as he held out a tattooed covered arm and shook her hand. Her palm was baby-soft and he didn’t want to end their contact, but when he finally tried to end their handshake, she held on with a steel grip and admired his ink.

  “These aren’t all of the tattoos you have, is it?”

  “No, they’re not,” he replied without any explanation.

  “Didn’t think so. Only difference between bikers and rock stars is that the latter have legit jobs while the former are usually doing something illegal. Other than that, they are one and the same. Always looking for the next hot woman to fuck…” she trailed off.

  “Trista, watch your goddamn mouth!” Talia exclaimed as her phone began to ring. She looked down and her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed. “I have to take this. Excuse me.”

  Suddenly they were alone and it seemed like they were the only two people in the room, regardless that there were other people roaming around, including Niko.

  “So, you’re the mysterious cousin Talia wouldn’t let us meet?” he finally inquired, for lack of anything more original coming to his muddled mind.

  She finally let go of his hand and crossed her arms against her breasts. “Yeah. I don’t know why she is so protective over me. I’ve been around people who would murder for looking at them wrong. Rock stars are nothing. At least most of you get off on hurting yourselves more than anyone else.”

  Linx was stunned by her lack of being star struck. She acted like he was just another Joe-motherfucking-blow while he was a member of Winter’s Regret for Christ’s sake.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know…the drugs, alcohol, random women and what not.” Trista glared directly into his eyes and though she tried to act nonchalant, he could see her clear as day.

  There was a lot of pain there, but beneath that was also a spark of interest. He couldn’t have been imagining it; he knew women well enough to know when they were attracted to him or when they found him repulsive. This one was very intrigued but was good at hiding it.

  “Take Niko…that blonde he’s with…they’ve known each other for less than a week. You can tell by their body language; he’s pretty sure she’s just a long-term fuck buddy, while her eager demeanor suggests she wants more, but she’ll take what she can get…for now.”

  Linx felt bold and moved into her personal space. He could still taste the wintergreen gum that he’d been chewing before he came into the studio and promptly thrown away in the first available trash can. She didn’t step back like he expected her to; she held her ground. He was taller than her and could feel her soft breasts against part of his upper stomach and it felt good.

  “What about me?” he breathed, looking down at her.

  “What about you?” Trista questioned as she arched one of her expertly-shaped eyebrows.

  “When you look at me, what do you see?”

  She cocked her head to the side, her face turned up towards his. “You were always my favorite member because I could read you like an open book. There was a time when you were really carefree and a bit goofy. Those days are long gone.”

  He felt his smirk disappear, though he schooled his facial expression so it only changed slightly. He instantly became much more guarded. “Is that it?”

  “No. You’re a gorgeously fucked up guy. Whatever your ex-old lady did to you—well, she’s ruined you for anyone else. It’s up to you to put yourself back together because no one is going to do it for you. I highly doubt you get much out of sex anymore, other than the physical relief. The callouses on your hands and fingers tell me you use them for more than strumming your bass and working out.”

  This chick was fucking scary good at reading people and, despite her age, she was old beyond her years.

  Is that your excuse for wanting to fuck her senseless?

  Linx licked dry lips. “You’re extremely perceptive, Miss…?”

  “Lennon.”

  He laughed out loud, his humor completely lost on her before a small smile played on her full, luscious lips. “Lennon is my—”

  “—first name, yeah, I know.” She leaned against the wall though he could still feel her body heat. “It must be fate. We were meant to meet, have steamy sex and become tabloid fodder.”

  Linx felt his eyes change from amused to acerbic. “Seems like we share the same twisted humor.”

  “Something like that.” She took the opportunity to step under his outstretched arm and she was suddenly behind him.

  He turned so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash. “I’m glad my life amuses you.”

  “It doesn’t. I’m just as fucked up as you are. Two broken souls in a world filled with misery and disappointment—there’s nothing ‘fateful’ about that.” She hoisted her blue leather bag on her right arm. “Talia is hosting a small party tonight. Band members and significant others only, Winter’s Regret and Scarlet Fever. You should drop by. Perhaps you might have fun.”

  “Will you be there?” he blurted, promptly cursing himself inwardly for acting too eager to see her again.

  He was acting like a little high school, bitch boy. What the fuck was wrong with him?

 
Trista smiled, showing a perfect set of straight, white teeth. “Well, since I live there, yes, I’ll be around. We can play this game again, except it will be called ‘Deconstructing Trista’. It will be interesting to hear your answers.”

  Before he could respond, she turned, walked over to Talia, said something to her then left the studio.

  Linx let out a strangled breath he had no idea he’d been holding.

  Moments later, Seth and Kris walked in, chatting, and he knew it would take all his energy and concentration not to mess up. He couldn’t wait to see her that night and his attitude both depressed him and exhilarated him.

  “You’d better watch yourself with that one.”

  Linx turned to see Niko, who was free of the blonde who’d been hanging on to him moments earlier.

  He allowed his right hand to wander through his silky brown hair. “What are you talking about? She can actually hold a conversation. Are you saying I can’t talk to an attractive woman without sex getting in the way?”

  “No, that isn’t what I meant. Trista isn’t just any chick.” Niko faced him with bright green eyes resembling rare, Colombian emeralds. “She’s Talia’s fucking cousin. That means no one night stands and no fuck buddy situations. Besides, she’s eighteen and just went through a tough time. It’s pretty fucked up, if you ask me.”

  Linx breathed deeply. “You have my word, brother, I won’t touch her.”

  Niko slapped a hand across his back harder than necessary. “Good. Keep your thoughts off her ass and your hands off her pussy. You just might live to see old age.”

  He laughed though he’d found nothing his best friend had said funny.

  Logic didn’t always rule in life and though he knew he should listen to his friend’s good advice, he couldn’t trust himself to follow through.

  Chapter Eleven

  I HAD TO get out of that studio, the sooner the better.

  All that time I’d spent at the clubhouse with Trey, in the company of men —coupled with having two brothers and not many women I'd ever considered real friends—were definitely excellent skills to possess in my current situation. Sexy, tattooed men didn’t make me weak kneed and girly.

  Not even famous ones like Linx Carter, who’d always been my favorite member of Winter’s Regret. I loved his hair, his neatly trimmed facial hair, his style, which I considered to be emo-casual, complete with black eyeliner and matching nail polish; I loved his hard, lean tattooed body, which was a myriad of different designs. Today, he’d gone au natural and didn’t have on a shred of makeup, his nails were polish free, and his hair was its natural light-brown color.

  I knew about every one of his tats, and to have met him in the flesh was beyond surreal, but he’d never know it because I masked my feelings very well.

  Talia had left it up to me to call the caterers and make sure the party was arranged perfectly and ready in time for all her friends. I had to admit it was going to be awesome to meet the members of Scarlet Fever, just because I loved their music as much as Winter’s Regret.

  Of course, as great as it had been to hang out and live with Talia, more often than not, I felt like a fraud.

  Most people gave grieving family members, or friends, a certain amount of time to feel sorry for themselves before they told them to snap the fuck out of it, and what was left of my family was no different.

  For the first month after I’d arrived, I’d moped around Talia’s house, hardly bothering to bathe or eat. I probably smelled like a slaughter house but I couldn’t give a shit. I ate Xanax like they were candy and drank a lot.

  Then after eight weeks, I realized I couldn’t continue to hurt myself. I took a shower and put on my favorite pair of jean shorts only they didn’t fit, they were too big. Talia had a state of the art gym and swimming pool that I’d used often when the pain became too much. It turned out that I had swam and done the elliptical enough to work myself down to a size six.

  I went crazy and ordered ten pairs of jeans from Victoria’s Secret, countless bra and panty sets, plus new t-shirts and cute tops. The weather in L.A. was constantly sunny and although it was winter, I didn’t consider temps in the sixties to be cold.

  Talia had left me the keys to a hybrid she’d recently bought; a brand new, silver Ford Edge that quickly became my vehicle of choice. She texted me from tour to let me know it was mine and all the necessary paperwork for registration could be found in the glove compartment. I drove all the way to Vegas one weekend, just to get the windows tinted limo-black. I also registered the SUV in Nevada, using my home address in Pine Bluff.

  If my life was in any real danger, the vehicle wouldn’t serve a purpose as a way to find me. Registering it in Nevada kept the trail cold, since I no longer resided there.

  Talia thought I was crazy for doing such a thing, but once I explained to her that with Nevada plates, if, and when, I was stopped by the cops for having windows tinted black, they couldn’t do shit. It wasn’t exactly illegal and was frankly, overlooked, in Nevada to have dark, tinted windows. I didn’t bother to tell her the real reason why I’d registered the vehicle there because I didn’t want to worry her about me.

  When she came back from tour, tired and almost fourteen weeks pregnant, I spent time with her and helped her as much as I could. Her situation was difficult, to put it lightly. Her long-time boyfriend, Seth Delvecchio, and the former lead singer of Winter’s Regret, wasn’t the father of the child. When I’d asked, she wouldn’t tell me who the baby belonged to either.

  I soon figured it out when Jaden Cox, a member of the Lucifer’s Saints MC and Scarlet Fever, kept showing up to see her. They tried to act casual in my presence, but I knew feelings when I saw them and it was obvious these two were crazy about each other.. He was obviously the one who’d knocked her up.

  Talia didn’t want to talk about the tour or what happened, but she was more than willing to lend an ear when it came to my problems, of which I had few.

  My only nagging issue was a man: Clooney.

  He called and texted me non-stop. How he managed to get my new unlisted number was beyond me. Trey swore up and down he hadn’t given it to him; Clooney’s obsessive behavior bothered me more than my life potentially being in danger. I ignored him because I didn’t want to think about my life in Pine Bluff. He was a part of my past and I was determined for him to stay that way too.

  After I left the studio, the first place I stopped was Costco, where I loaded up a huge double-wide shopping cart full of alcohol. Various imported packs of beer followed by the hard stuff with decent labels: tequila, gin, cognac, vodka and rum, both amber-colored and clear.

  I had perfected the art of multi-tasking and called the catering service. I told them what time they needed to be there, what kind of appetizers to bring, and how many people we would need in terms of staff.

  I stood in line at the check-out when my phone rang. Talia had upgraded it as well, and now I carried around a Galaxy Note 4 by Samsung. It was great for making appointments and it had all the latest technology. I should have checked the caller ID, but my mind was so preoccupied, I answered it with a breathless, “Hello.”

  I knew I sounded winded, but hauling all that booze in the cart and pushing it down the long, endless halls of the discount store hadn’t been easy. It weighed a ton, but I always up for a challenge.

  “I didn’t actually think this was your real number, so I had to call to make sure.”

  The voice was familiar, deep and a bit husky, but sexy as hell. “Linx? Is that you?”

  “Who else were you expecting?” the rocker questioned, though there was absolutely zero arrogance in his tone.

  “Not you, that’s for sure.” I surely wasn’t going to tell him about the issues with my ex, so I side-stepped that problem with, “How the hell did you get my number? Talia said it was unlisted. I mean, I know that means nothing. My brother is a genius and he had my new phone number a couple days after Talia bought the phone for me.”

  Linx sighed on the ot
her end. “Sorry…I have a bad habit of ‘acquiring’ information about people I find interesting. Your pregnant cousin reluctantly gave me your number when I told her you’d taken something of mine by accident and I needed it back now . She wasn’t pleased with my interest in you but she gave me the information anyway.”

  Shit! This wasn’t good.

  Talia could smell attraction and would know the tension between us wasn’t just because he was famous, while I was a nobody, who happened to be her cousin. I could definitely fight it and wanted to, because my life was a living nightmare at the moment. According to Talia, the extra security was for my precaution. I even had security on me at Costco. All I knew about them was that they drove an inconspicuous looking black Mini Cooper and resembled surfers though both men were ex-military—Navy SEALs. They kept their distance but were always around, even when I didn’t think they were.

  “Listen, I don’t think it was smart of you to ask Talia for my number. She knows the way I feel about you and she might be worried that something might develop between us,” I said in a quiet voice.

  “She thinks you stole one of my favorite picks.”

  My eyebrows shot up as I handed the cashier my Costco American Express to pay for the alcohol. “Um, what?”

  “You know what a guitar is, right?”

  “Duh,” I replied, with a hint of snark to my voice.

  “And you realize that we guitarists, whether we play acoustic, electric or bass, use picks? They are those little pieces of plastic that help us reach those highs and lows when we play. In my case, it’s just lows, since I’m the bassist for the group,” Linx explained yet again, in a manner that was not in the least condescending.

  “So, you lied and claimed I stole a pick? Can’t those be easily replaced?”

  “Yes, they can, but like any instrument that makes you better when you play, faves are developed. The pick you nicked happened to be one of my favorites.”

  “And you’re trying to convince me an object like that, which can be so easily replaced, convinced my cousin to give you my number? I’m calling bullshit here. Talia has never been that trusting, not even before our aunt married Mr. Richie Rich. Have you forgotten she spent ten years in South Boston too? You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”