by Alyson Hale
ROCK HER WILD
Rock Her Series #2
By Alyson Hale
ROCK HER WILD
Copyright © 2017 by Alyson Hale.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: May 2017
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead— is entirely coincidental.
NOTE: This book is not intended for readers under the age of eighteen.
Dedication
To women everywhere,
I’m in your corner.
Love, Aly
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Alex
What a summer. It should have been the best three months of my life, but it was the absolute worst. I streaked my way through Europe; partying, getting high, and fucking until I was numb. I visited every monument along the way, witnessed so many amazing sights, and yet there’s one thing I can never get out of my head, no matter how hard I try.
That one night, the worst night of my life, has haunted me for half my life and it feels like I’m never going to get over it.
My friend Viola came on the trip with me, and I have to say that’s my biggest regret of the summer. It was supposed to be my best friend Kyri, but she couldn’t afford the trip, and I was dying to get the hell out of Dodge. Kyri graciously allowed me to go on without her, even though it was a trip we’d been planning together since we were twelve. She’s such a sweet friend…a total contrast to the “friend” I brought on the trip with me.
Viola did nothing but drive me deeper into the hole I’d already dug for myself. My money is gone. I gave up my job to take this trip. And now, thanks to her, I’m in even worse shape than I was when I arrived in London in June.
I’ve been through some traumatizing things this summer, but I’m not going to put that on Kyri. She’s like a sister to me, and she’s the person I go to for having a fun, relaxed time and forgetting my troubles. I don’t want to tell her I party all night because I can’t sleep without having nightmares. I let her think it’s because I want to. She doesn’t know the last time I had eight hours of uninterrupted, blissful sleep was the night before incident number one, and that now there’s been another one to add to the list. I wonder how many more men are going to hurt me before I finally end my own misery. Someday, I’ll party too hard, and this walking nightmare will all be over. Sometimes I hope that’s sooner rather than later.
Inhaling a deep breath, I paint a smile on my face, raise my fist, and knock on Kyri’s front door. I force all thoughts of my trauma to the back of my mind, pretending they don’t exist, and train my thoughts on the lovely lady I’ve been missing since the moment my plane lifted off.
I hear the thump of her knee against the door as she checks the peephole, like she always does, and then giggle at the delighted gasp I can hear from out here. She hurries to unlock the bolt and flings the door open. Her crazy red curls frame her sweet ivory face, and her green eyes are wild with excitement.
“Ky!” I can’t control my excitement and barrel into her arms, squeezing her like the life raft she is for me.
She takes me inside and I help her with dinner while we wait for her mom to get home. Kyri’s mom has been like a second mother to me. Both Kyri and I come from single mom homes, which is what united us in the first place even though we’re polar opposites.
Once Ms. Calloway gets home, we all stuff our faces with Kyri’s insanely delicious lasagna as I tell them about all the good stuff that happened in Europe, leaving out all the bad. Afterwards, Kyri and I settle back in her room to watch 10 Things I Hate About You, an old favorite. We do more talking than watching as I fill her in on the things I didn’t get to tell her while we were eating with her mom. Before her mom walked in, I gave her a quick rundown on all the guys I banged before the last one that fucked me up even more than I already was. In a way, I want to tell her, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s going to hurt her so much. Plus, it’s something I’m not even sure I can talk about.
“So, tell me about London,” Kyri begs, her eyes brightening. We lay sideways facing each other with glasses of wine in our hands between us. “Is it just like I’ve been describing it in my books?”
“Are you using me for research?” I pretend to study her with skepticism.
She rolls her eyes, laughing. “You honestly expect to go to Europe and not have to describe it to me in meticulous detail when you get back?”
“How can I describe it in meti—what? Where do you get all these big words?”
Shaking her head, Kyri sighs. “I thought I told you to get a thesaurus app on your phone.”
I whip my relaxed natural hair back over my shoulder. “I can’t say that word either, let alone spell it.”
I’ve never been that devoted to school or learning words. I barely skated by in high school because Kyri helped me with my homework. Every time we had a test, I used her notes to cram the night before. I couldn’t sleep anyway, so why should I waste my days studying? Or at least, that’s what I thought. Now I wish my GPA was higher so I could have gotten into college.
Grunting out a sigh, Kyri holds out a hand, motioning for me to give her my phone. I reach into my bag, which is sitting by the side of the bed, and hand it over. She knows my passcode, so I let her enter it and download a thesaurus app for me.
“Anyway, how can I describe everything in crazy specific detail when I was wasted half the time?”
“Alex,” she scolds. I can see the disappointment in her eyes. “You promised me you wouldn’t do drugs while you were over there.”
Biting my lip, I force back the tears that prick my eyes. If only I had listened to her.
“I know, Ky. I’m really sorry. Viola got me into a lot of shit I had no business using. Believe me, it will never happen again.”
I watch her download a dictionary app, feeling amazed yet again that two people so different could get along so well. Kyri has never snorted, smoked, or shot up anything in all the years I’ve known her. She hates putting things in her body that have no business being there. I’m the screw-up, and she’s the one who has her life together. It’s been that way since we were kids, and even my mom knows she’s the “better” one. My mom cuts me a lot of slack because she feels guilty about what happened to me, but I see that same disappointment in her eyes when I fuck up yet again. I wish I could be more like the Calloway girls: sweet, innocent, and untouched.
“Alex?” Kyri’s voice brings me back to earth. She sees the sadness in my eyes. I tried so hard to hide it from her, but now tha
t incident number two has happened, I’m slipping up. “Is everything okay?”
Shaking it off, I smile. “Yeah. Just feeling some regret that I didn’t ace high school like you did. Now I gotta find another job, and I just…” I shrug.
She rubs my arm, reassuring me with a smile. “Don’t worry, girl. You’ll find your niche and totally kill at whatever you set your mind to doing. I believe in you.”
Nodding, I ease down into her feather pillow and let the negativity swirling around in my head fade away. There’s something nice about just enjoying a night in with a glass of wine, a movie, and a friend. I wish I could just be satisfied with that. I wish this gnawing craving for danger and excitement to fill the void inside me would go away for good.
But that would take a miracle.
Instead of bumming her out, I decide to humor her and describe every detail of the sights I saw in London, Paris, and Rome. St. Peter’s Basilica was probably my favorite place out of all the ones I visited. The architecture was so impressive. It seemed even bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.
Long after the movie is over, Kyri and I are still talking. So many times I’ve wanted to turn the conversation to incident number two. I need to talk about it. I know I do. But it’s just not the right time. Somehow, I can sense it.
Chapter 2
Damien
“Fucking hell.” I wince and shake off the searing pain, berating myself inwardly for my own stupidity. I seem to have been elected as the official “cook” for the visit to the States, and I’m terrible at it. So terrible that I just accidentally touched one of the hot bars of the portable grill, branding myself.
“You all right, mate?” asks Connor, the only one in this bloody band who has a shred of compassion in him. My brother Eddie is a dumbfuck, and Jace, the lead singer, is a bloody arsehole, constantly riding me about everything. Connor keeps to himself, but he’s kind and willing to help anyone in need. He brings me a bag of ice from our cooler and smirks as he hands it to me. “That’s a right nasty burn.”
“Yeah, fuck. It’s on the wrong hand, too.” I hold the frigid bag up to my fingers, wishing I’d touched the grill with my string hand. All those fingertips are calloused so thick I probably wouldn’t have even felt the burn.
“Well, at least you’ll be able to play the sympathy card while you’re here, am I right?” Connor winks, knowing me well. I have a virtual book of plays in my head I can use on women to get them to do whatever I want in bed. Getting them in bed is the easy part, being the hottest member of Filthy Bangers by far, but convincing someone you don’t know from Adam to fulfill all your filthy, despicable desires? That’s a gift.
“I don’t know if this burn is bad enough for that, but it could be, if you know what I mean.” We grin and laugh at each other.
What the fuck we’re doing in the state of Georgia right after a successful tour in Europe is none of my concern. I’m here for one reason and one reason only.
Sex with gorgeous American women.
Rick Calloway, our manager, asked us to come to a little town outside Atlanta to help him get his family back, and I was the first to jump on his request. The last time I was in the States, I found scores of beautiful girls who had no self-respect whatsoever and got them to do my most wicked bidding. It was glorious. I’m certainly not opposed for going for round two, just as long as it isn’t with the same woman. I’d rather die than taste the same pussy twice, much less for the rest of my life. It would be like eating stale biscuits at every meal.
I may be a selfish bastard, but I can be unselfish in bed. Seeing a woman come undone for me sates the beast inside, but being the only one satisfied after sex would feel unfinished. I want a woman screaming my name and begging for more, though one night is all she’s ever going to get. Once I’m done, I’m done. It’s time to move on. That’s one of the many reasons I never stay in one place for very long.
That, and Rick is a fucking slave driver.
Connor comes to my side and takes over the cooking for me so I can ice my hand in peace. It was his bloody idea to eat outside tonight, anyway. I’m the best cook, so he somehow talked me into doing it even though it was his idea. A fucking con artist, that one is. I might need to start watching myself around him.
Jace saunters out to the eating area we’ve set up and doesn’t even cast a glance in my direction. I know there’s been some bad blood between us, but half the time he refuses to acknowledge I’m even here. He doesn’t notice my hand, and I don’t point it out. The last thing I need is a reason for him to kick me out after all the shenanigans I’ve caused on the road. I’m lucky he’s even tolerated me this long.
We’ve fought since the first tour we went on as a band and haven’t stopped since. It’s exhausting. Yet he gets along with my younger brother just fine. It must be because we’re two alpha males who are constantly going head-to-head. He has the advantage, since he’s the founder and front man. I’m always going to be at his mercy, and I fucking hate it. I’ve even considered striking out on my own, though the thought is nerve-wracking to say the least. Starting over, after all this time and the fanbase we’ve established? I’d be building from the ground up. That’s not what I want. I’m at the top, the pinnacle of my career, and I want to stay that way.
Once the food is cooked through, Rick joins us in the circle as does Eddie. While we’re eating, Rick starts into his spiel about why we came here in the first place.
“As you all know, my ex-wife Becky and my daughter Kyri live here. Elyza is away, unfortunately. I heard it from a cashier in a gas station who went to high school with her. I have a picture from Facebook of Becky and Kyri, though. Can I show it to you?”
“Yeah, sure,” all of us mumble. He passes his mobile around the circle to Connor, then to Eddie, and then the device ends up in my hand.
I grin my approval at the sight of Rick’s daughter. She’s a sexy little dish. Not my type, though she is curvy, just the way I like a woman. I’m not into the Irish redhead look, but I know someone who is, and this is my chance to royally piss him off. I already guessed what Rick is planning to ask Jace, and I have a feeling Jace will be more than willing to do it, but I might as well make it hard on him.
“Leave it to me, Rick. I’ll see to it that at least one of them comes on the road with us.”
Rick’s furry salt-and-pepper eyebrow pulls up in disapproval, and he glowers in my direction. “Shut your mouth, Demon, before I shut it for you. Pass it on to Jace. I know he’ll treat her with respect.”
I roll my eyes and pass the mobile to Jace. “Oi, manager’s pet.”
Sure enough, when Jace stares down at the mobile screen, I watch his eyes turn glassy and his mouth drop open. She is gorgeous, his fantasy girl. I know all about his Irish barmaiden fetish.
Leaning back, I cross my arms, pretending to be pissed, but in reality I could never get hung up on one girl. There are thousands just like her all around the globe, waiting for Damien Turner to come to their little towns and rock their world. It would be a sin to deprive them.
Chapter 3
Alex
A week passed, and while Kyri was lucky enough to score a new job, I was left out in the cold by everyone I interviewed with. I had ten interviews in that time, and they were all disasters. It didn’t help that I was stoned for the last of my interviews and they called me out on it. I was just trying to take the edge off my nerves, so I smoked some pot an hour before I went in, but it ended up costing me the job, and it almost could have cost me more than that. Thankfully, it was an open house interview, and I managed to snatch my application and contact info out of the interviewer’s hands before she got my address. If the po-po had showed up at Momma’s house, I would be permanently disabled by the time she was done with me and would no longer need a paying job.
The next day, I stretch in bed when the morning light hits my face. Groaning, I rub the sleep out of my eyes. What a week. I can’t wait until it’s over and I can go partying with Kyri…
Partying. At a club. With guys...
Fear coils my stomach. A slideshow of images passes through my brain, and I start shivering in bed although it’s already very warm in my room. Flavors flood my tastebuds—gin, cigarettes, and bile—and I feel my stomach churning even though there’s nothing inside it.
This new memory is always going to be here, torturing me day and night. I dream about it in the few hours I sleep, and then I wake up and it’s still there, paralyzing me. Changing me. I don’t even know who Alexandrea Ward is anymore besides a shell of a human being who used to be the life of the party everywhere she went.
Tear after tear escapes my eyes. I sob quietly into my pillow. When will the nightmare end?
My cell phone rings on the nightstand where it’s been charging overnight. I’ve been running my battery down every day playing games, Snapchatting people, and looking up jobs on the Indeed app, trying to drown out the barrage of images that assaults me hour after hour. It doesn’t work. Nothing works.
“Hey, girl!” I put on my best voice for Kyri, trying to smile so she’ll hear it in my voice. “What’s up? How’s the new job? I haven’t heard anything from you about it in a week.”
Kyri’s voice trembles with excitement—no, euphoria. “You are never going to guess what happened to me this week. Seriously, not in a million years.”
I groan at her theatrics. “You earned a thousand dollars in tips?”
She giggles. “No, way better. A million times better…literally.”
“Well, what is it? Spill!”
Stifling a squeal, Kyri continues, “I met—wait for it—Jace Hawthorne. The Jace Hawthorne.”
“Um, what? Isn’t he a major British rock star?”
“Yes. And for some stupid reason, he came to our town. But that’s not all.”
Laughing incredulously, I indulge my bestie’s wild delusions. “Well? And?”
