“Whatever.” Angelina rolled her eyes. “Anyway, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.” I sipped from my cup of red wine again, which was beginning to give me a very nice buzz. “However, I’d like to think a little bit more positive than you. There is no way the world is just crappy and all hope is lost.”
She held up her hands “Back to the original subject—Damien and I have both agreed we want to get to know each other. He’s a bit wary I’m only twenty-three. I guess he’d prefer for me to be maybe a little older.”
“If you say so,” Lizzy murmured under her breath as she stretched out on the fleece blanket. “What guy wants an older chick when he can have prime pussy that looks like us? I don’t know—ugh, why can’t we just enjoy this month in France without getting into any kind of arguments about society or our love lives? I hear enough of this shit back home with the parental figures. Can’t we just allow ourselves to be young, wild and free? The last summer of our arrested development without bills or mortgages or real adult responsibilities—we should be enjoying it, not psychoanalyzing it. We all know everything changes in the autumn but I really wanted us to have fun.”
She looked at both of us with bright blue eyes. “That means no more political talk or criticizing Angelina’s boyfriend. And you—that means no more rubbing it in how you have a man while Sierra and I are freakin’ single and hatin’ it. Agreed?”
Angelina smiled though it was closer to a smirk. “Well, I did tell Damien about my two hot girlfriends. A few of the guys in the band are single you know. And I made sure our backstage passes aren’t with the rest of the riff-raff. Neither one of you can accuse me of not being a good friend.”
“You’re the best!” I exclaimed as I finished my wine and situated myself on the blanket.
“Uh-oh,” Lizzy began in that sultry tone of hers. “Is that tall drink of water coming near us who I think he is? He’s fuckin’ hawt, Angie. You freakin’ scored big time!”
I wore sunglasses but I could still observe the very sexy and drop-dead gorgeous guy coming our way. He didn’t have a chance to get very close since Angelina hopped up, spilling her plastic cup of wine, and ran to him before jumping in his arms. He caught her like she weighed nothing, and held on tight to her practically nude body.
I looked at Lizzy and she looked back at me. “Seriously, a guy that good looking is nothing but trouble with a capital ‘T’.”
“Well, she’s over twenty-one,” I murmured as I sat up and rearranged her overturned cup though the wine had sunk into the grass. “There’s nothing we can do about it other than support her choices.”
Lizzy shook her head. “I’m not worried about Angie—I’m just talking in general. He’s gorgeous but something about him is . . . off.” She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hands before she slipped on a pair of Jackie-O style blacker-than-black Ray-Bans.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “All the better for me to observe his demeanor.”
Angelina and her beau finally separated before she brought him over, their hands linked together, to where Lizzy and I sat down.
“These are my BFFs—best friends forever to you Frenchies! Meet Sierra—the brunette—and Lizzy is the blonde.”
I looked up and smiled at him holding out my hand for him to shake.
His enchanting blue eyes, so light, they almost appeared to be made of ice, with an unusual green center surrounding his pupils, belied little but when he faced me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. He didn’t like me and no matter how much he tried to hide it, I could see right through his façade.
Instead of shaking my hand, he grabbed me up and I followed his lead before he jerked my arm out of my socket.
“We don’t say ‘nice to meet you’ with hands,” he replied disdainfully.
“Yes, I know,” I merely said in a quiet voice. “I just . . .”
He brushed both my cheeks with his own. “Enchanté. I’m Damien Bissette, the manager for Breathless Eternity. Glad to make your acquaintance.”
I stepped back as soon as the greeting ended and watched his body language as he gently helped Lizzy to her feet and brushed both her cheeks. He had relaxed though he still maintained good posture, and whatever he felt in a negative sense seemed reserved only for me though I’d never met the man in my life.
I didn’t understand where all this hostility was coming from.
Did he see me as competition for Angelina’s affections?
No, that couldn’t be it. I wasn’t sexually attracted to him and he certainly held no interest in me—sexual, friendly or otherwise.
I couldn’t put my finger on it but it was almost like he despised me. The worst part was I didn’t understand why. What could I have possibly done to bring such strong emotions out in him? We’d just met and I usually didn’t turn people off.
I had been told I had a wonderfully friendly personality that immediately put people at ease. It was a trick I’d inherited from my mother along with my eyes and olive skin tone though the rest of me was pure Carter. From my bone structure to my straight dark hair, the Irish Carter family traits were written all over me.
My mother—being a self-proclaimed “Heinz 57 mixture”—was an exotic beauty though in reality, I knew nothing about my mother’s particular ethnic background because it was a subject she avoided like the plague.
I couldn’t even persuade my maternal grandparents to talk about it because she’d forbidden them from speaking about it as well. The fact I rarely saw them despite living in the same city as them also probably had something to do with it.
Mom reminded me of a better-looking Catherine Zeta-Jones. At least she’d aged much better and looked a decade and a half younger than her actual age.
I snapped out of my funk as I realized he was addressing us. Whatever coldness had come over him in regards to me had disappeared completely, and he’d become charming, and friendly.
“ . . . I hope you all have received your tickets and backstage passes for tonight. For some reason, Diablo has it in his head that none of you listen to Breathless Eternity’s music except for my angel right here.”
Lizzy tilted her head in confusion. “Did Angie tell you that? We both have Octane and Turbo programmed in our vehicles. I mean, don’t get us wrong—Sierra over there is a huge Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Rihanna and Carrie Underwood fan but she rocks out hard like all the rest of us. We love Breathless Eternity, Scarlet Fever, Thousand Foot Krutch, Winter’s Regret, Breaking Benjamin, In This Moment, Papa Roach, Bring Me The Horizon, Arctic Monkeys and I am really digging Slipknot’s new album—”
“Ah, les groupes de rock anglais . . .” he trailed off distastefully as if she’d personally offended him.
“And what’s so bad about the English?” I retorted boldly.
His blue-green eyes pierced through me coldly. “What’s right about them is a better question? Slutty, vulgar women who spread their legs as quickly as they would say ‘Hello’ . . . men who drink to excess and act completely disorderly and uncouth—as if they’ve been raised by wild dogs. They are a complete and utter nuisance to us but you know what they say—‘money talks.’ Too bad it is so easy for them to visit our beloved country, non?”
I cleared my throat and spoke, “Just before you get the wrong idea, I like all kinds of music including Lana Del Rey, The Weeknd, Ella Jade . . .” I trailed off as the look on Damien’s face proved to me he was not impressed in the least. I regretted Lizzy mentioned Taylor Swift—my secret guilty pleasure.
“Relax, lover. Both my friends are not being dragged to this concert against their will.” Angelina wrapped her arms around Damien’s neck and kissed him on the mouth. “They both really want to come, all right? So, have the limo meet us at the hotel early enough so we won’t have to fight traffic to get to our seats and I’ll see you tonight.”
“Will do,” he replied before kissing her lips again.
I looked aw
ay as their kiss took on a passionate smooch and not just a quick peck on the lips. Lizzy took off her sunglasses and swallowed the rest of her wine before holding out her plastic cup in my direction.
Thankfully, the intrusion was a well-wanted one. Anything to forget the look in Damien’s eyes when he’d glanced at me. It still perplexed me though I knew it was something I should let go and leave well enough alone. Hell, maybe he just didn’t like me.
Angelina turned toward us as soon as Damien left. She jumped up and down like a perky cheerleader. “Didn’t I tell you he was perfect?”
Lizzy swallowed her wine and smiled brightly. “He is the requisite Frenchman all right!”
“He’s great!” I exclaimed with more enthusiasm than I felt.
“Listen, girls, tonight is gonna be epic and we’re going to the have the time of our lives. One we won’t ever soon forget!” Angie did her silly little dances from a time before we were born—from the Running Man to the Cabbage Patch.
Soon, Lizzy and I were both laughing our asses off at her. I was having so much fun with my friends, I almost forgot about the whole “Damien” thing.
Almost.
“EVERYTHING IS SET up for this evening and nothing should go wrong.”
“What?” I looked over at my brother after finishing off the song I’d begun last night.
I had bigger worries to be concerned about than the three women attending our concert. For instance, I still hadn’t settled the “Sorsha situation” and I refused to leave that evening without doing that first.
We hadn’t bothered to run through our set since this was the third and final concert in Paris. We would be on our way to Nice next. Plus, I had to rest my vocals if I wanted to sound worth a damn tonight. I prided myself on always wanting to give the best show possible. We’d been voted one of the top five best music acts to be seen live in concert, and that meant something to me.
Damien stood and grabbed a sparkling water from the mini-fridge in my music room. “I suppose you aren’t listening at all since you still haven’t managed to get rid of Sorsha. What is the hurry to push her out of your life all the sudden? She’s been here all this time.”
“What the fuck do you care? Really, it’s not going anywhere and I think it’s time.” I cleared my throat and wished for a cigarette but I was trying to curb my habit if I couldn’t quit all together. “Listen, what’s up with you and the brunette—Sierra, isn’t that her name?”
“Listen well, little brother, if I could tell you, I would. In the meantime, take solace in the fact that there are some issues where it’s better for you not to know.”
“I don’t think this is one of those times.”
“Why?” Damien threw his hands up defeat. “Let me guess? She’s the reason why you want to dispatch Sorsha. You’re attracted to a fucking photograph, Adrien. Don’t let this turn into some sort of sick obsession. I finally met her today and although she’s attractive, you could do better.”
My heart pounded in my chest with adrenaline and anger. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me how to run my personal life, Damien. We haven’t been kids for a very long time and if I wanna meet this woman, I’m gonna do it—with or without your approval.”
“Putain!” he cursed in anger before he stood before me again. “It’s not a good idea . . . not after what I have planned for her.”
“And what exactly are you planning to do? Gut her and rip her intestines out? For Christ’s sake, Damien, listen to yourself! You don’t even know this woman and you hate her with such a burning intensity, it’s beyond sane rationality. Sometimes I don’t understand you at all.”
Damien began to pace before he stopped and stared at me. His blue-green eyes were so light, they seemed to glow, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was upset. “Listen to me, Adrien . . . this woman, she hasn’t done anything to me but she holds the key for a revenge scheme you could never imagine. That’s all I can tell you without incriminating you. There is a reason why she must be destroyed from the inside out so I can send her home broken and a shadow of her former self. It’s a well-deserved piece of vengeance. She just happens to be a not-so-innocent casualty.”
I stood and walked towards my brother. I placed both my hands on his cheeks, his freshly shaven face feeling somewhat violated by my coarse hands. “Listen to you. Revenge. Vengeance. Retribution. Hatred . . . this isn’t you, bro. Underneath it all, you’re a good human being. There is a reason why you and I are so close. You are the light to my dark. The conscience to my tattered soul. Don’t try to become something you’re not, Damien. It will only tear you apart in the end. Believe me when I say I speak from experience.”
He grabbed my hands from his face and held them within his own. He had me by a death grip—if he squeezed any harder, he would break bones in my hand and that wouldn’t bode too well for my career.
“Don’t tell me what I am and am not capable of, Diablo. I’m older than you and who do you think taught you? Papa? He was too busy playing badass motorcycle motherfucker and impressing our mother. I’m the one who is responsible for how you are now. I take sole responsibility because without me, where would you be?”
“Probably in the club—fuck, I don’t know, Damien. The lifestyle is what we grew up around so I guess I’d be living it if you hadn’t noticed my potential.”
“That’s right!” he exclaimed, his spittle flying into my face from sheer outrage. “It’s because of me that Breathless Eternity exists. I built you rag tag motherfuckers into a band, and I made sure you make a shitload of money too! No one took advantage of you or gave you a shitty contract because I was around to make sure that didn’t happen! Now, are you going to seriously stand here and tell me what I can and can’t do?”
He finally let go of my hands and turned on me.
I massaged my aching fingers as I watched his demeanor closely.
Something was going on and my own brother refused to confide in me. This not only dug deep but it scraped my heart. While I couldn’t give a fuck about dumping Sorsha any time soon, the fact that my own brother failed to trust me left too many splinters inside my chest cavity. Why couldn’t he confide in me with the truth? If he didn’t want me to know then that meant he planned to go rogue.
Damien, on his own, was never a good idea. He might have been older than me but I knew more about the ways of the world than he did. While he was studying at university, I lived life and knew the streets. I knew how to read people and I knew how to defend myself. I understood Damien wasn’t a complete lightweight but he’d never be as hardened as someone like me. He needed me more than I needed him.
Of course I’d never disclose this to my brother. I wasn’t an idiot and could take over managing Breathless Eternity just fine. In fact, Zero and me could be left in charge and the band wouldn’t fall apart. We liked to have our fun but we also liked the fame, the money and our artistic integrity. We knew we could keep all three going if the two of us were in charge.
Damien was merely our manager because it gave him something to do, paid him a decent salary and he got to live the whole rock star life while maintaining his pretty boy looks, expensive silk suits and a minimum of ink tainting his body. In fact, he was the one who made out like a bandit while the rest of us worked our asses off to be the best band we were capable of being.
We never stopped trying to be better, to do better, to entertain our audience and thank every person who bought a ticket for one of our concerts. Hell, we grew up all right but nowhere near the kind of money we were raking in now. And the best part, it was one hundred percent legal.
None of us were selling drugs or pimping chicks out on the streets. We made a living with our own blood, sweat and tears. We could go home and sleep at night knowing we didn’t have to kill, maim, torture or injure anyone for the size our bank accounts.
Yeah, there were silly rules like we had to officially reside in Monte Carlo to get out of paying the high taxes in France and there were only a maximum amount of days we c
ould stay on French soil but it was worth it. Everything we did was worth how far we’d gotten legitimately.
“Damien,” I said in a low voice as I approached my brother. “Exactly what do you plan to do with her?”
“It’s really none of your fucking business—”
“Bloody hell!” Sorsha interrupted as the door swung open and she observed the both of us. “Will you two quit rowing like a couple of little cunts? For Christ’s sake, I think you’ve stirred up both the neighbors and the bloody dead!”
I was so angry with my brother at that moment, I knew for a fact I wouldn’t be able to ride to Stade de France with him that night. I grabbed my favorite leather jacket and walked out of the room, brushing rudely past Sorsha.
“Oi! Hold the fuck up—where the bloody hell do you think you’re goin’?” she questioned me with a sour look on her pretty face.
“To my concert, you know the one I have to perform tonight. Please pack your stuff and be gone by the time I get back. I’ll spend the night in a hotel and after that, we leave for Nice. Let me know when you’ve left the apartment and please deposit the key in my mail slot. Merci et au revoir, coucou.” I stared into those gorgeous gray eyes one more time before I turned and left the apartment, slamming the door behind me.
I didn’t have anything else to say to her, and while we’d been great for the past two and a half years, we both knew it was time for us both to move on.
STADE DE FRANCE, the venue for the concert, was absolutely packed but thanks to Angie dating the manager, we had no problem finding our designated seats. Not that we would actually be doing much sitting—we weren’t attending a movie. This was epic—Breathless Eternity in concert!
I didn’t care much about the opening act, Goldslitzher, and neither did the girls so Angie took us backstage to meet the band. It was absolutely thrilling to meet them all in person although even I could admit to feeling a bit intimidated.
Sympathy For Diablo (Breathless Eternity #1) Page 4
