Goodbye is a Second Chance (Sons of Sin Book 1)

by Nola Marie

  Then I remember a song I want to show him. I’m always trying to find a song he hasn’t heard. So far, I haven’t succeeded. Angel loves music and I swear he has heard every song ever made. This one I heard on the season finale of the new show Supernatural.

  I grab my computer and type the song into the search engine. I find a YouTube link and click play. I turn to face him with excitement.

  That excitement quickly evaporates when he shakes his head with a smirk. “You know this one too,” I shout in exasperation.

  “Of course, I do,” he laughs as he pokes at my now jutted bottom lip. “The band is called Kansas.” He grabs my laptop and quickly pulls up another song. “You’ll like this one better,” he tells me with a wink.

  Intricate, almost soothing guitar strumming comes through the speakers of my computer followed by lyrics. They take me under almost instantly. I may only be thirteen, but they resonate within me.

  “You like it?” he asks with a sparkle in his eyes.

  “I love it,” I nod and feeling a tad bit emotional.

  I wander around the party for a bit longer trying my best to put the past where it belongs. I continue to sip on my drink until I find it empty.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you off,” I hear behind me.

  I turn to find Blaze standing there offering me another drink. I take it with a smile, my whole not accepting drinks rule flying out the window. I need something to numb this ache in my chest.

  We chat and laugh easily for a bit. Then my head begins to feel fuzzy. The effects of the alcohol make the room spin. I take that as my cue to go home.

  “I’ll go with you,” Blaze says with a smile.

  Ryder catches my arm before we make it to his door. “Leaving so soon, love?” His eyes move to Blaze with suspicion.

  I nod with a weak smile. Then my eyes stupidly veer over his shoulder. I feel the color drain from my face as I watch Angel being led into a room by the Erica-looking, fake boob, bleach blonde.

  I don’t move my eyes before his lock onto mine. They are hazy and slightly unfocused. Also, they are sad, embarrassed, and maybe a little apologetic before they turn back into their usual stony storm. But what I notice most in his eyes? There is no sparkle.

  I drop my eyes from his first. I can’t watch him follow her into that room because it makes me feel like an eighteen-year-old girl all over again.

  Damn it why does he make all of those juvenile insecurities rear their ugly heads? I thought I’d removed them long ago. Why does seeing him still hurt so much? Make me so angry?

  Why in the hell does Angel Martin still hold the power to break my heart over and over after all these years?

  “Yeah, I think I’m done,” I answer Ryder with a slur and a smile.

  “I’m going to see her out,” Blaze tells him.

  I nod which is the worst thing to do because the spinning room makes me stumble a bit.

  “Maybe you should stay here a little longer, Love,” Ryder suggests as he steadies me.

  “I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Blaze tells him.

  “Not happening,” I hear a beautifully sexy voice say.

  I turn around to see those beautiful stormy eyes I love to hate staring daggers at Blaze. I have no idea where he came from. He was just in going into a room with that bimbo. I want to bristle at his authoritative tone, but I am too stunned to see him standing in front of me.

  "What makes you think you can stop me?" I hear Blaze demand of Angel as he reaches for my arm.

  I'm not sure why, but I shrug his hand away to move closer to Angel. My head spins some more when he wraps a hand around my hip pulling me closer to him. "What makes you think I can't stop you?" he growls.

  That growl reverberates through me causing a shiver to ripple through me. I can feel Angel ready to pounce. I place my hand to his chest, looking up into his very angry face. "I'm okay," I reassure him, but the words are jumbled and slurred which seems to make him even angrier.

  "See," Blaze taunts reaching for me. "She wants to go with me. I'm taking her home."

  Angel tightens his grip pulling me just out of reach. "The fuck you are."

  I’m not sure what’s going on. I just know the room won’t stop spinning and I’m pretty sure I’m two seconds from collapse.

  “Take her to the back room,” I hear Ryder say about the time the floor falls from beneath me.

  Two arms grab me up. Electricity threatening to set me ablaze fills my body.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Break my heart over and over,” I mumble as darkness swirls.

  “Still don’t know how I did that, Josie.”

  I feel myself being placed on a bed so soft, that as soon as I’m released, sleep takes me under and my dreams take me to black, inky hair, a sharp, stubbled jaw, and eyes so gray a storm could live there.

  Angel

  “You ready to do this man?” Maddox says with a wide grin and throwing an arm over my shoulder when I walk to the studio parking lot.

  “Damn right,” I return his grin as we walk toward the bus.

  “Shit,” Dane hisses rubbing a hand over his face as we stand in front of our bus. “They said a better bus but holy hell.”

  “That’s definitely an upgrade,” Ryder agrees approvingly.

  We all stand there gawking at the monstrous bus before us. Our last bus was shit. We could’ve paid for a better one ourselves, but we want to pay our dues. Not one of us moves an inch toward the new bus.

  “There a problem, boys?” Danny asks as he comes to where we stand.

  “I’m nearly thirty-one years old,” Dane grunts. “I am not a fucking boy.”

  “It’s a figure of speech. Get a grip,” Danny retorts. “First stop on the tour is Philly.” He goes through the next two weeks itinerary like we don’t already have it memorized. “Liam will be here soon.”

  “Who in the hell is Liam?” I demand.

  “Liam will be your road manager this tour.”

  “What happened to Monica?” Maddox questions because he’s leery of new people getting involved with the band. Wardrobe is one thing but someone in charge of our schedules, press, or whatever else gets thrown into the mix makes us all wary.

  “She’s on honeymoon,” Danny answers. “Look. Liam is not new at this. He will work just fine.”

  “He better,” Ryder threatens. “I don’t give two shits if he works for the label. This is our goddamn careers – our dreams on the line.”

  “Can you just give him a chance before you send him to the executioner?”

  “He’s got a chance,” Maddox informs him using his business tone. “One fuck up and he’s gone.”

  Danny finally raises his hands in surrender.

  We see the crew start to arrive and file onto their own buses. Shortly after, Camilla and Josie appear. My blood boils when they enter the crew bus.

  “What the fuck, Danny?” I spit.

  “Problem?” Maddox asks looking at me curiously.

  I nod my head toward the bus Josie climbed in. “The girls are in that bus? You are not seriously letting them on those buses? Two girls on a bus full of horny, male roadies?”

  “What do you want me to do Angel?” he returns with incredulousness. “We can’t give them their own bus.”

  “That is trouble waiting to happen,” Maddox tells him with gritted teeth.

  “It’s out of our control,” Danny says with finality.

  I hear whooping and cat calls coming from the bus that Josie and Camilla are on. My teeth grind and fists clench. “Anyone on the bus we know from the last tour?”

  He thinks for a minute. “Scotty and Chase,” he tells us.

  We all nod. “Get them over here,” Ryder demands.

  “You know most people in your position don’t make demands. You’re still the new guys. This is your second tour, but you act like you’re Dirty Minds or something. Fucking rich guys,” he mutters at the end of his rant.

  “Money has n
othing to do with it,” Maddox level him with a hard glare for insinuating he was an over-privileged, ungrateful asshole. Maddox may have money, but he also works his ass off. He’s worked as a bartender for years, only touching his trust when necessary. “We’ve just been taught not to roll over. In business, you have to have backbone and know what you expect out of a deal. I may have signed a contract with a record label, but they don’t fucking own me or my music. I made damn sure of that.”

  “Just get them over here, Danny,” I growl as I head into our bus because if I have to continue listening to the sounds coming out of that bus, I’m going to break someone’s face.

  “For someone who claims they hate her, you sure do worry a lot about her,” Maddox tells me in a low voice.

  “Apparently it’s not something I can turn off. Even if it has been years,” I admit.

  “Right,” he says sarcastically. “So, I guess it’s just some habit that made you come out of that room and then carry Josephine to another last week.”

  “I just wasn’t feeling it,” I hiss because so what if I didn’t fuck that blonde?

  She sucked me off earlier that night. Or she tried until I pulled her off. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. I was too busy trying to make sure that douche bag Erickson didn’t pull any of his sleezy shit on Josie. After some of the shit I’ve seen and heard about the guy, I don’t trust him.

  We’ve done a few shows with Dirty Minds over the last couple of years not to mention parties. Maddox and Ryder are friends with their guitarist.

  But Erickson is a piece of shit. He truly thinks he’s God’s gift to everything. Since the Grammys, he’s gotten worse. Women don’t see it though. He puts on a damn good show for them behind a flawless mask of faux sincerity.

  I have no proof, but I have a good idea why Josie was suddenly so plastered. There was no way I was letting him take her home or anywhere else. Fortunately, Ryder was on the same wavelength and suggested I take her to one of his extra rooms.

  I spent the rest of the night basically standing watch until I knew she’d be okay.

  “Yeah,” Maddox whispers as the others climb aboard. “You weren’t feeling it alright.”

  I throw a glare his way. I don’t need him or anyone else making this into something it’s not. I spent the first eighteen years of my life watching out for Josie. After all this time, I still feel the need to watch out for her. No matter how much anger I feel, the urge to make sure she’s okay is stronger.

  “Holy shit this bus,” Dane marvels bringing me out of my thoughts and effectively ending the conversation I wanted to die. “Why the hell do we need eight bunks?”

  “Forget the bunks, Mate,” Ryder answers. “Check out the bedroom. Which one of us gets that?”

  “No one,” Maddox says in a definitive tone. “That room can be used when we need down time to write.”

  “Or if one of us has a girl,” Ryder counters. “Since Dane has no clue what a woman is for and this fucker,” he jerks a thumb toward me, “seems to have forgotten, it’ll just be you and I.”

  “Fuck you,” Dane grunts.

  “Anytime, baby,” Ryder tells him with waggling brows making Dane flip him off with a grin.

  Knocking on the bus door stops the ridiculous banter. Scotty and Chase come in followed by Danny and some other man in his mid-thirties with close cropped hair, jeans, and a leather jacket.

  “Liam, this is the band,” Danny gestures to the four of us.

  We all take turns introducing ourselves. Liam is not what we were expecting from someone who works for the label. Monica was always dressed like she was going into a Wall Street office. This guy looks like he belongs anywhere but an office.

  We exchange pleasantries with Chase and Scottie next before diving straight into business.

  “The two women on your bus,” Ryder begins.

  “Yeah,” Scotty nods. “Camilla and Josephine. They’re fucking hot.”

  My teeth grind and a growl slips from my throat. Ryder and Dane toss me a curious look while Maddox just shakes his head with a grin.

  “We expect them to be treated with respect,” Ryder continues.

  “Of course, man,” Chase says running fingers through shaggy brown hair.

  Maddox shakes his head at them this time as if he doubts their understanding. “We want you two to look after them while they are on that bus. Don’t let any of those assholes try anything.”

  “The guys on the bus are pretty chill. They wouldn’t pull anything shady,” Scotty replies.

  “So, you know all of them pretty well?” I ask with a raised brow because I doubt they do. They affirm my belief with shakes of their heads.

  “Either of you have a sister?” Dane asks.

  Scotty lets out a derisive snort. “Man, I’ve got four sisters.”

  “Then think of them like they are your sisters. Protect them from the assholes on that bus because it’s likely there’s at least one. I hope not, but I’d be naïve to believe otherwise,” Dane tells them.

  “And if there are any issues come to us,” Ryder adds.

  The two guys nod in understanding. After a little more conversation with them, Danny, and Liam, I begin to get antsy. They can’t watch after Josie from here.

  “Time to hit the road,” Arnold, the bus driver announces.

  I almost let out a whoosh of relief but manage to keep it contained. I catch Chase by the arm and lean into his ear. “If anyone fucks with Josie – if they put one fucking finger on her, you let me know,” I whisper to him.

  He gives me a nod then exits the bus. Another ten minutes and we’re on the road to Philly.

  We all take a seat in the sitting area. I pull my earbuds out and start listening to music. I watch as Ryder and Maddox pull out their guitars and notebooks. Dane is on his phone, probably texting his sisters.

  The just over two-hour drive is over quickly. We pull into Wells-Fargo arena and climb off the bus to stretch our legs a bit. The crew begins to file off of their bus slowly. Most start straight to pulling out equipment. I watch as Josie and Camilla climb off smiling at each other.

  They appear to be no worse for the wear but it’s just the beginning. Two hours isn’t much time to be caught up with those guys. I’m more concerned with them being trapped in there with them for twelve hours.

  The girls also start unloading the items they’ve brought. A couple of guys grab the heavy trunks for them. Both girls give them bright smiles.

  “You’re staring,” Maddox says coming up beside me.

  “Just want to make sure they’re okay.”

  “They will be fine, Mate,” Ryder says from the other side of me.

  “If anything funny goes on, we’ll take care of it,” Dane reassures me.

  “I told you guys that them coming was a bad idea,” I grumble.

  “No,” Dane corrects me. “You told us you didn’t want Josephine coming. Not girls in general. Besides, there have been plenty of girls on these tours before.”

  “Like them?” I nod in their direction.

  “I’m sure there have,” Maddox agrees with Dane. “Besides, you don’t really know them or what they can handle. I’m sure they are both well equipped to handle handsy assholes. As long as no one pulls any funny business, everything will be fine.”

  “I still don’t like it,” I continue to grumble.

  “Come on,” Maddox says. “Let’s show these assholes that rich boys know how to work too.”

  We all nod in agreement and head for the equipment. I go to grab a huge trunk at the same time as a small hand does. I look up to see Josie, who jerks her hand away like she’s been electrocuted.

  “I’ve got this one,” I tell her.

  She doesn’t reply. Not one word. Not thank you. Not fuck you. She just turns to grab another container marked wardrobe and walks right past me.

  “I’m not sure if you two look like you want to kill each other or fuck each other,” Chase says as he comes up next to me. “I figured she was your g
irl when you said what you did earlier.”

  “Not my girl,” I answer. “But we have a history. A very long-ago history. Kind of feel like it’s my job to look after her.” He lets out a chuckle with a shake of his head. “What?” I demand.

  “Man, the way you’re acting isn’t protective. It’s possessive. That’s why I thought she was your girl.”

  I let out a huff of exasperation. I guess the line between love and hate really is thin if all these assholes can tell how much she means -. “Just watch out for her. Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I will,” he tells me still grinning.

  “I may not be friends with Josie anymore, but I’m not letting these assholes sniff around her.”

  “Not sure you can stop the sniffing, Ang, and the only touching I can stop is the kind she doesn’t want.”

  I grit my teeth but keep quiet as I grab the container. The thought of any of the guys around here trying anything with her pisses me off. I know she’s not the same girl, but my Josie is too good for these jerks.

  God, I don’t even know anymore. I hate the girl that just dropped me like a sack of bricks, never looking back. I hate the girl that threw away our friendship without so much as a look back. I hate the girl that didn’t give me any reason why.

  But I also still love my childhood best friend. Or at the very least, the memory of her. I miss the girl who made me feel everything. I miss the person I wanted to share everything with. I fucking love her even though I hate her.

  Even though she has changed so much in the last decade, she still makes me think of that girl. The one I shared everything with. The one that owned my heart. At least until she tore it out and stomped on it.

  I never could handle the idea of guys like – well like me touching her. Corrupting her. I know I don’t have any right to think that way and, truthfully, I bet the girl I see today was corrupted long ago. That pisses me of too.

  I just wish she weren’t on this fucking tour. Because I’m going to make myself insane. I’ve thought about her every day my entire life. I don’t know how to turn it off.

  I don’t think I ever will, but how do you stop thinking about someone you spent eighteen years of your life with? Even if we were just kids, those moments that mold you into who you will be were mostly with her. It feels like, sometimes, all the moments after that didn’t really mold me into much. If anything, they’ve turned me into a jaded asshole, and the problem is that Josie contributed to that too.