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Take Me With You

Page 15

by K. A. Linde


  I smiled and shook my head, imagining how much trouble the band could get into on Bourbon Street.

  “You’ll always be our hometown, so we’re going to start tonight off with a song we wrote about getting the fuck out of here!”

  I laughed as the crowd went wild.

  “This is ‘Hemorrhage.’”

  The girls were already dancing around like crazy to the music we’d listened to hundreds of times. I knew every word to every song, but nothing compared to when the guys performed live.

  Grant took over, captivating the crowd and drawing them in with his sexy, seductive voice and flirtatious glances. I’d once said he owned the stage, and it had never been truer than tonight.

  The other guys were drawing on his mood and the crowd’s fervor. Vin rocked back and forth across the stage, raising his guitar high in the air. He jumped up onto one of the speakers and then crashed down onto his knees before sliding across the floor. The theatrics were ridiculous, but even I couldn’t keep from smiling at how much fun he was having.

  Miller met Vin halfway across the stage, and they rocked out together. Miller’s backbeat blared the shuddering bass through the speakers.

  During the bridge of the next song, McAvoy was so into the music that he stood and slammed his sticks down with more vigor than I’d ever seen.

  After nearly an hour, all the guys were breathing heavily. Grant pointed his finger out into the audience, directly at me, and I stood there, stunned, wondering what he was about to do.

  “This next song is a new one. When I wrote it, I was going crazy over this girl, and that has never changed. Now, I get to drive her crazy.” He winked. “This is ‘White Hot.’”

  Oh my God, he actually winked at the crowd. He was talking about the song about us having sex to the entire room, and he’d just winked. My face flamed.

  “God, he loves you,” Cheyenne said into my ear as the intro picked up. “It’s disgusting.”

  I laughed because there was nothing else to do. Cheyenne glanced over at me and laughed, too.

  The sexual lyrics clung to me as if Grant and I were all alone, doing all the cleverly crafted innuendos he was portraying. Our eyes met across the room, and desire rushed into me. I knew he was going to be singing this song all over the country to thousands of other women, but the look on his face said the only person he was going to be thinking about was me.

  The last lines of “Life Raft” echoed across the room.

  In that brief moment of silence at the end of the show, I tasted life. Then, the room erupted, the crowd cheering our names and scrambling forward to try to touch us while we were still onstage. It was manic and incredible. I knew then that there was nothing else I wanted to do with my life. It was about more than the chicks and booze and notoriety.

  Music was born in me, begging to be released.

  It was the music.

  Always the fucking music.

  I placed my guitar on its stand and then followed the guys offstage.

  “Damn, I’m going to miss that crowd,” McAvoy said. He retrieved a joint from his pocket and was lighting up. “Smoke?”

  “Bro, yes,” I said, taking it from him.

  “Can you believe we’re going to be in New Orleans in thirty-six hours?” Miller asked in disbelief. “I know we opened for The Drift on New Year’s, but this feels so much more…real.”

  “Yeah, it fucking does!” Vin clapped Miller on the back.

  It was the most camaraderie I’d seen out of them since Vin found out that Miller and Sydney were fucking. It was surprising, considering—as far as I knew—Miller and Sydney hadn’t stopped fucking the entire time she was in town on her spring break.

  “We’re going to be fucking famous, and we’ll get so much fucking pussy. Get the fuck out of Jersey and fucking make a name for ourselves. You heard them cheering, ‘ContraBand!’ That’s going to be in every fucking city in the nation!”

  “Getting a little ahead of yourself,” Miller muttered, “but I like the sentiment.”

  “Positive thinking, bro. You think it. It’ll fucking happen.”

  I questioningly raised my eyebrows. “You listening to fucking New Age shit?”

  Vin flexed his muscles and looked as if he might deck me for even suggesting it. He opened his mouth to throw some lame-ass comeback at me when the backstage door burst open, and the girls filtered in. One for each of us.

  Cheyenne bounced in, her flaming red hair announcing her entrance before she opened her big mouth. She didn’t even look at Vin. I hadn’t asked what the fuck was going on between them, and I didn’t fucking care as long as he stayed in this good of a mood.

  Gabi and Shelby followed behind Cheyenne, both seeking out their respective guys. McAvoy immediately tugged Gabi down the hallway and into the back room. It would likely be occupied for a while. Shelby uncertainly walked up to Miller, which made me think she knew about Sydney. My fucking cousin really was the root cause of all the problems in this band.

  When I turned back to the door, in the place of a princess in a cardigan stood a rocker in a leather jacket. My dog tags hung loose between her breasts. She looked fucking hot as hell. She didn’t feel comfortable in her skin, but this version of my girlfriend at least showcased how much of a badass, no-nonsense chick she was.

  We met halfway across the small room. She had a sad look in her eyes despite the smile on her face.

  “You didn’t like the show?”

  She shook her head. “It was the best it’s ever been.”

  “You going to tell me what’s wrong then?”

  “I’m just going to miss you.”

  I leaned down and kissed the breath out of her. She had no fucking idea how much I was going to miss her. But I knew this was a good thing. It would put me on the right path to make the kind of money I needed to take care of her.

  But it didn’t stop me from beating myself up about leaving her all alone in Princeton, knowing my dad was going to be in town. I’d sent her away on spring break because I hadn’t wanted her to be here to deal with that shit. Now, I was leaving her all alone.

  I’d thought he would have made his move already. Where are you, old man?

  “Don’t be sad. I’m not gone yet, Princess.”

  “I know. I just want to steal you away from all your adoring fans and the annoying groupies. It’s a madhouse out there. I could barely get through.”

  “Then, let’s get out of here.”

  “Grant, it’s your last show.”

  She looked up at me, her big hurricane-blue eyes saying something completely different than her words. She wanted to leave with me and spend every second together until I’d board the plane in Newark. But she was too proud not let me be around all the other people I’d be leaving in my life.

  She still didn’t realize she was the only person who mattered.

  She was my life raft.

  She’d saved me from a downward spiral I’d fallen so far into that I couldn’t even see light through the darkness. I wasn’t going to lose her because of this.

  “And you’re my love. I can have a drink with strangers anytime.”

  Her smile was electric, practically knocking me over with its warmth.

  “Okay. Slip out the back door?”

  I nodded, and she walked that way as Gabi burst out of the back room, running straight toward Ari.

  Up until that moment, I’d never seen the chick have anything on her face but a dopey smile. Now, her face was contorted in pain as tears ran down her cheeks, and she was hiccuping as she tried to control her breakdown.

  She collapsed into Ari’s arms. Ari looked up at me with a question in her eyes. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know what this was about.

  “Shh…” Ari whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Cheyenne and Shelby trotted over when they heard the cries.

  I instantly felt out of place. What the fuck was going on?

  “He…broke…up…with me,” Gabi said bro
kenly through her tears.

  I cringed.

  Fuck.

  Bad timing, bro.

  The girls ventured into a private corner where they could talk. Gabi seemed to be on the edge of hysteria, and no matter how much they tried to talk her down, I wasn’t fucking sure she would recover tonight.

  With a frustrated sigh, I stomped down the hallway and into the back room. “What the fuck, man?”

  McAvoy looked up at me with a joint in his mouth. He was wringing his hands in front of him, and he looked totally messed up.

  “Bro,” he said in acknowledgment.

  In silence, I waited for him to say more. McAvoy was a man of few words, but I could tell from his body language that he was fucked up. Miller and Vin showed up a few seconds later. Vin crashed down next to McAvoy and shared his weed. Miller anxiously glanced at me.

  After a few tense minutes, McAvoy puffed out a steam of smoke and sighed. “I didn’t want a girlfriend on tour.”

  “Right. I fucking got that much.”

  “She shouldn’t have to wait around for me.”

  Miller rolled his eyes. “And giving her no choice makes sense.”

  “Don’t fucking come at me with that shit, Miller. You’re fucking around with Sydney and Shelby. I at least fucking cared enough to end things before shit got worse.”

  I held my hand up and shook my head. “I don’t give a fuck whether you date Gabi or not. But all this fucking fighting ends when we get on the fucking road. We cool?”

  Vin lounged back and smirked. “I’m good, bro.”

  Miller shifted his eyes from Vin and back to me. “Yeah.”

  McAvoy nodded but remained silent.

  “Good. Not my business where you’re sticking it.”

  “That’s right. Just want to get my dick wet,” Vin said.

  “Doesn’t that happen all the time when you’re jacking it in the shower?” Miller quipped.

  McAvoy snorted and shifted forward on the couch.

  “Bro, I get fucking pussy!” Vin cried. “I even have a new pick-up line other than ‘I’m in a fucking band. Come suck my dick.’”

  “This should be good,” McAvoy muttered.

  “So, I walk up to a chick, all sad-like, and say, ‘I feel so sad.’ When she asks, ‘Why?’ I say, ‘Because my dick just died. Can I bury it in your ass?’”

  All three of us groaned at the same time.

  I covered my face and shook my head. Only Vin.

  “Guys, it’ll totally fucking work!”

  Then, we were all laughing like idiots at Vin’s horrible joke, and it felt like old times.

  “Don’t go,” Ari whispered against my chest.

  “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  I kissed the top of her head and wrapped my arms around her.

  Ari had driven us to the airport since none of the other girls were currently speaking to us, courtesy of Gabi’s meltdown on Saturday night. All our band equipment and extra stuff had been packed up and shipped down to New Orleans by the record label. So, we just had our carry-ons, which had all fit into the trunk of her BMW.

  “I know. I know.”

  I looked down into her face and gave her a little piece of hope. “Maybe you can fly out for a weekend show.”

  She looked skeptical. “I have so much to do since the end of the semester is coming up. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away.”

  “Well, we’ll figure something out once the semester is over then.”

  “Okay,” she said softly. Her eyes dropped to the floor.

  “Hey, Princess.” I grasped her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me. “I love you. I can’t have you fucking moping while I’m gone.”

  “I’m not moping,” she snapped. “I can miss you without moping.”

  Finally, I smiled. There was my spitfire.

  “I believe you. Now, promise me you’ll be careful.”

  She sighed heavily. “We’ve already been through this. I’m not stupid. I can remember something as important as avoiding your dad.”

  “I’m serious, Ari. This isn’t a fucking game.” My voice dropped lower as I spoke for her ears only, “My dad is a murderer. He’s not going to hesitate if he figures out who you are, and I don’t want you to be anywhere near him when he explodes. If you see anything that looks suspicious, call me right away, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “I wish you would take my gun.”

  She determinedly shook her head. “No way. I don’t need a gun! It’s never going to come to that.”

  I frowned. She really had no idea what would happen if my father found out who she was. I wished I could prepare her, but there was only so much I could say. I fucking prayed there was a god out there somewhere to answer the first prayer I’d said to him in thirteen fucking years. He needed to take care of Ari. If he did, then maybe we’d start talking again.

  “Grant!” Miller called. “Time to go, man.”

  I waved at him and then crushed Ari against me. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Be careful, Princess. I can’t have anything happening to you.”

  “I’ll be fine, Grant. Go become a rock star.”

  I smirked at her. “I already am, darlin’.”

  The first week wasn’t that bad.

  I had so much work to do for school and all the time in the world to get it done. In fact, I had so much time to do homework that I completed assignments way before their due date. How had I ever spent this much time on homework? It was truly baffling.

  The second week was torture.

  Even though I spoke to Grant every day on the phone, I missed him like crazy. And the worst part was, I couldn’t even talk to my roommates about missing Grant without getting angry death glares. They’d all dated the other guys when Grant and I were in an argument over Christmas break, and now, Grant and I were the only ones left intact.

  I couldn’t fix that, and they clearly didn’t want the reminder. So, I found reasons to be out of the apartment all the time. I practically lived in the library. But one afternoon, I had this strange realization. I was completely caught up on homework, and I had absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to go.

  My afternoons used to be filled with band practice. My evenings had been full of rock concerts, dates, and quality time in the bedroom. Now…my days were blown wide open. I needed a hobby or something, but I’d never been that interested in anything other than school. Plus, I’d never had time to do anything with the amount of work that always piled up.

  As I contemplated the various options I had—Should I learn to play a sport, take up painting, pick up an instrument?—I found myself on the way over to Grant’s place without even realizing it. A smile touched my face as I drove down the familiar path. If he were here right now, the guys would be crowding into the garage to start band practice.

  I felt a little silly, driving over there, but I didn’t turn around. I still had stuff at his place, and if I was in the neighborhood anyway, then I could pick it up. Maybe I could grab a T-shirt of his to sleep in.

  Oh my God, who was this girl inhabiting my body? She was so guy-crazy compared to the me that I knew.

  To be honest, I kind of liked it. This was what it should feel like anyway—with butterflies and all that. Everything before Grant had been a joke, a cruel joke on what love was supposed to feel like. It was no wonder I had waited so long to have sex.

  I didn’t even blush at the thought.

  My car rounded the corner, and I brightened at the sight of Grant’s shiny blue truck in the driveway. I knew he missed having the freedom of his truck. Both bands were stuffed together in a tour bus driving them around to the various venues. Grant was trying to steer clear of Donovan, but it was difficult to do in a tightly confined space with zero privacy. Apparently though, there was no animosity with any of the other guys. I just thought Donovan needed to get over it.

  Parking on the street in front of the house
, I hopped out of the car and jogged up to the front door. I slid my key into the lock, turned the knob, and entered Grant’s house. After I shut the door, I climbed the stairs up to his bedroom and sighed when I stepped inside. Despite myself, I collapsed back into his unmade bed and breathed in the smell of him.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, feeling a little bit ridiculous.

  I jumped out of bed and quickly located the clothes I’d left here, grabbed a black T-shirt from Grant’s drawer, and then carried the bag of stuff downstairs. It would be nice to sit around at his place all afternoon and not have to worry about my roommates, but maybe it was time to confront them about this. I didn’t want to have to keep avoiding my own apartment. I felt bad about Gabi’s breakup, but my relationship with Grant had no bearing on what had happened.

  I opened the door to Grant’s place, stepped outside, and screamed.

  A man was standing at the bottom of the steps. He startled backward. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in defense.

  My hands were shaking as I stared down at the man before me. Terror crept into me and was quickly sliding toward outright panic. There was a strange man on Grant’s doorstep with an older yet familiar face and all too familiar brown eyes with gold ring. I swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in my throat.

  My fight-or-flight instinct was kicking in, and all the adrenaline in my body was saying to get the hell out of there as fast as I could because I was looking right at Grant’s dad.

  “Ca-can I help you?” I managed to get out.

  He smiled what had probably once been a charming smile. “Yes, ma’am. Do you happen to know when the boys who lives here will be home?”

  Oh God.

  He had tracked down Grant’s house. He had to know they were on tour. Was he staking out the place to find out when he could make his move?

  Calm down. You can get through this.

  “No, sir. They’ve been gone awhile.”

  “Do you have a way to get a hold of them?”

  “Sorry, no,” I said, quickly locking up Grant’s place.

  When I turned back around, he had taken a few steps toward me. I was visibly shaking at this point. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was everything Grant had warned me about. He had said his dad would show up. He had said his dad would hunt him down. Now, here I was, in the line of fire.

 

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