by Reid, B. B.
“Pssst!”
Without thinking, I spun on my fabulously wicked heels to find Loren poking his gorgeously infuriating head through the curtain. “Make it good,” he threatened. His gaze seemed endless as he held me with it. “We’ll be watching every second.”
True to his word, I could see Houston and Jericho flanking him through the small opening above his head. I offered him a smile that suspiciously felt real. Like the flip of a switch, I was anxious to get out there.
“Eat your heart out, dick bag.”
That ass. My God, that ass.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d beheld something so…perky. I could feel Houston and Rich behind me, straining to get a peek. Now that Braxton wasn’t looking, they didn’t bother with pretending. They were interested, and so was I.
Like an only child, I hogged the view. I never liked sharing anyway.
This new toy of ours was fucking magnificent.
Exciting, sexy…a menace.
She was the only thing my mind and dick could agree on in a long time. I wasn’t too excited about that, though. I didn’t need Braxton Fawn in my head—just in my bed.
I was so wrapped up in the curve of her ass in those skintight jeans that it took me a second longer than my bandmates to notice the boos and jeers.
“Do you think we should have sent her out there?” Jericho asked, always the first to backtrack. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t commit to being an asshole, though he tried, bless his heart.
“No one made her go out there,” Houston remarked. Unlike Rich, being an asshole came naturally to him. “She’s the one who decided she had something to prove.”
As if she could.
We would never accept her, which made us even bigger dicks for making her think that we would. If she wanted this gig, she must roll with the punches, and because we always got our way, there would be many.
Houston damn sure would make sure of it, and Jericho didn’t have a mind of his own. He was a follower and would do whatever Houston said. As for my reasons…well, life had gotten boring. This was my chance to have a little fun.
While a decent size, the stage still swallowed her up whole as she stood in the center of the blinding lights. I couldn’t wait to see how she’d fare with even bigger crowds. I was patiently waiting for her to tuck tail and run when she opened that beautiful, insolent mouth.
“I know,” she spoke to the crowd through the mic. “I’m not what you were expecting, right?” The crowd answered with a resounding no before chanting our name again.
Unable to help myself, I pushed through the curtain but made sure to stay hidden behind the equipment. It wouldn’t be the first time someone rushed the stage. I could feel Houston and Rich flanking me but paid them no mind.
I was too fascinated by her.
“Recently, I made some new friends. I think you know who I mean.” I was at the perfect angle to see Braxton’s conspiratorial wink. Slowly, the crowd grew silent as confusion and curiosity rippled through them.
Fuck.
She had their attention. I didn’t know how to feel about that.
“They’re watching right now.” Without warning, she began with a novice pattern of chords. My mind tracked them even as I held onto every word she spoke.
“They want to know what I’m made of.” She peeked over her shoulder, and I held my breath until I realized her attention was on her bassist and drummer. It was my first time even noticing them. I wondered if they knew she was ours now.
Evil intent spread through me, but just as quickly, it was vanquished by the unexpected might of Braxton’s voice.
Open your lips
Say you want me
I won’t ask you if you’re sure (God ends here)
You came alive; then you set me on fire
I’m burning, burning within
Insatiable, undeniable, you have no idea what’s in store
Strip me, fill me, and then kill me
I’ll never not want more
I’m a slave to the mania; you’re the truth I can’t deny
Until then, I’ll hide in plain sight
Until then, I’ll die a little inside
Until then, I’ll drown in this endless, black tide
My heart is a well
Watch me fill it with pain
My body is a garden (I’m Eden)
Watch them pillage and plunder
Watch me sate the hunger
There’s no sleep for the wicked
There’s no saving the damned
There’s no prayer to be had
You’re already ensnared, my little lambs
Open your eyes
Look deep inside
I’ll ask you what you see (God ends here)
Find what you love and let it kill you
If I’m what you love, you’re already dead
Wanting the taste of you, craving the feel of you
I’ll drain you to the very last drop
If I’m toxic, you’re poison
You say you want more
If I’m a monster, you’re the darkness
If I’m addicted, you’re the drug
Fuck it, stay awhile
We’re already in too deep
Open your mind
Say your darkest desires
You’ll never want to leave (God’s not here)
Incredible, unforgettable
You have no idea what’s in store
Strip me, fill me, just don’t turn away
I’ll never not want more
I’m a slave to the mania; you’re the truth I can’t deny
There’s no reason left to run
There’s no reason left to fear
There’s no reason left to hide
God’s not here
The roar that erupted from the twenty thousand that only minutes ago had booed her shook me to my very core.
Standing on my right, red bloomed on Rich’s cheeks as his lips formed an O. I looked to my left, already knowing what I’d find. Houston’s jaw was locked tight, his gaze burning as his nostrils flared. There was fury, wonder, and the need to devour as well as to destroy. It was the same internal war waging inside of me.
She told me to eat my heart out, and that’s exactly what I’d done. Braxton looked like an angel, but she played like a demon—one not even Satan would dare cross. There was no way now that we wouldn’t make her ours. She was Bound.
Braxton performed two more numbers before she pranced her happy ass off stage, but still, the crowd wasn’t sated. I didn’t like that she’d forgotten all about us as she laughed and celebrated with her former bandmates, but then Houston stepped into her path, blocking her from leaving. The light left her eyes, and it felt like someone had yanked a magic carpet from underneath me, and now I was plummeting back to earth.
Her bandmates didn’t move a muscle, and neither did she as Houston invaded her space before holding up a small white card. I already knew what he’d scribbled on it.
Wordlessly, he slipped it inside the décolletage of her corset, right between the fleshy mounds of her breasts spilling from the top. I didn’t miss the unnecessary brush of his finger against her skin, either.
Bastard.
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
Unmoved by her anger at his violation, he spoke his parting words to her before turning away. “Don’t make me wait.”
Jericho trailed after him, but I was a little slower to follow. I didn’t want to leave. The dark look Braxton wore shifted to me when she noticed I was still standing there. I watched one of her perfectly arched brows rise in question. I wanted to stay, but she wanted me gone.
Needing to save face, I shoved aside my fascination. The shit was embarrassing, not to mention nauseating. “See you later, Amy Lee.”
I heard choked laughter from the three who’d backed her before it ended abruptly. I guess she had them by the balls, but we wouldn’t make it so easy for her. Looking over my shoulder
one last time, I smirked when I caught her watching me go.
The seventy-two hours that followed were the longest fucking three days ever.
“How could you not tell us you knew them!” Griffin shouted as she tossed her camping bag on the floor next to our front door.
“Or that she’s one of them,” Maeko reminded our already peeved roommate.
I’d been getting the third degree since my performance last night, which surpassed even my expectations. I never dreamed I’d feel so alive and refused to give Bound’s presence credit.
Griff, Maeko, and I had to leave the festival a day early when the heat that came down on me turned into a wildfire. My affiliation with Bound and what it entailed was now a hot topic. Clearly, I hadn’t thought it through before I announced to the world that I knew them just to get under Bound’s skin.
I wasn’t sure how much I was at liberty to say, so I kept my mouth shut. It didn’t stop anyone from speculating, though. Candid photos of me at the festival started appearing online, and it wasn’t long before the blogs caught wind. Even those fan pages dedicated to every move Bound made, including whenever one of them scratched their ass, were now reposting old selfies of me stolen from my page.
After only a brief period of deliberation, the consensus was unanimous.
I, Braxton Fawn, was just another groupie.
“How did this happen?” Griff woefully demanded.
“It’s just a job,” I mumbled as I moved to sit on our ratty couch. “It’s not a death sentence.” Maeko perched next to me on the arm of the couch, a silent show of support as Griffin angrily paced the floor in front of us.
“But your life will never be the same again. Can’t you see that? I thought you didn’t want to be famous.”
“I didn’t. I don’t,” I quickly corrected. “I told you why I’m doing this, Griff.”
“But what if it doesn’t work?”
Shit.
Perhaps I hadn’t considered all the possibilities, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Bitching out would be even worse than failing since it was the only guarantee I wouldn’t succeed.
“I have to try.”
“Can’t you just be happy for her?” Maeko snapped at Griff. “This is amazing, and if anyone deserves it, Brax does.”
Like always, Griff melted at Maeko’s ire until she slumped defeated onto the couch next to me and took my hand in hers. “I am happy for you, Brax. I’m sorry if it didn’t seem that way. I’m just…worried.”
Join the club. “It’ll be fine.”
“Do you really know for sure, though?”
“No. But I also don’t know if I won’t be hit by a bus the next time I walk outside. I can’t let an unknown tomorrow stop me from living today.”
Griff nodded reluctantly before a wide grin spread her lips. “So when do I get to tell the world that my best friend is a rock star?”
I thought about the card in my pocket. The one with an address, date, and time scribbled in Houston’s angry handwriting. Did this mean Bound had finally accepted me as one of their own? I shouldn’t care whether they did, but I had a lot on the line, so it was easier said than done.
“I’m not sure, but we start rehearsing for the tour in a couple of days.”
“Can we come?” Pink tinted Maeko’s round cheeks, excitement taking over her soft features.
I considered how nice it would be to have backup of my own until I remembered the two words Houston had written beneath the address. Come alone.
“Not this time,” I answered Maeko. And maybe it was for the best. Maybe Bound would finally understand that I wasn’t going to cower any more than I would worship. “I need to do this one alone.”
Late that night, as I impatiently waited for sleep to steal me away, my phone chimed yet again. Resolved to stay awake and stare at the ceiling all night, I fumbled around for my phone lost in my sheets. I didn’t want to look, knowing that it could only be trouble at two in the morning, but I was a glutton for punishment.
All day, I’d been getting tagged on social media by people I didn’t know from Adam. The last one I dared to look at was some asshole on Twitter theorizing that I must give good head with lips like mine because why else would Bound make a special appearance to my show.
Before that, a fan page had photoshopped a stolen picture of me with each of Bound’s members and then took a poll on which pairing made the better-looking couple.
Baffled, but keeping it real, I found myself staring at those pictures for longer than I cared to admit. I couldn’t decide any more than the hundreds who’d flooded the comments, so my roommates and I drank two bottles of wine to banish the thoughts.
Staring at my phone screen and the most recent Instagram notification, I realized I had a direct message from someone but not just anyone.
[thebassistLo]: good show, baby fawn
Before I could think of what to say, though a simple thank-you would have been the most appropriate, Loren messaged again.
[thebassistLo]: But are you a vocalist, or are you a guitarist?
Growling as if he could hear me, I quickly typed a response even as my heart pounded, my skin flushed with heat, and cinnamon filled my nose. Thanks to the electricity buzzing through my body, it took me longer than usual to type a coherent response.
[BraxtheFawn]: I thought you were watching? I’m both.
[thebassistLo]: But you performed like you couldn’t decide.
Once again, another message from him came through before I could respond.
[thebassistLo]: What color panties are you wearing?
My ears burned, and my nostrils flared as the smell of something burning filled them. I read the message and then again—three more times.
I was shaking with a different emotion this time.
Anger.
Who the hell asked for his opinion? Why did I care even though I hadn’t? I was mortified and disappointed, which pissed me off even more.
[BraxtheFawn]: Get fucked, you narcissistic, fragile, small-dick debutante! I didn’t ask—
Inhaling deeply, I erased what I’d typed before starting again and hitting send. Loren wanted to get under my skin, and I’d cut my own arm off before I let him.
[BraxtheFawn]: Thx. I’ll work on that. See you Monday.
The asshole responded with a smirking emoji.
Monday came too quickly.
Even after having my jalopy break down yesterday and the shop quoting my kidney to fix it, the last twenty-four hours seemed to fly by, giving me no chance to reconcile with my fate. By the time dawn broke, I’d gone through seven outfit changes. They were all either too bold or blatantly underdone. Either way, Bound would see right through me.
With less than five minutes to spare, I decided to keep it genuine with a gray Guns N’ Roses T-shirt just long enough to wear as a dress and black fishnet stocking. For accessories I wore two chokers, one studded and the other black, and my usual ten rings stacked on three of my left fingers. I then slipped my feet into black thigh-high boots with heels even though I’d be on my feet for hours. I never wore sneakers. When I wanted to be comfortable, I wore combat boots, even in summer.
Today it wouldn’t matter what kind of shoes I wore. Bound would be judging me on how well I played.
Grabbing my guitar case, I headed out. Since my car and my cash flow were both out of commission and neither Maeko nor Griff had a car, I’d have to take the bus instead of an Uber.
I used the walk to the bus stop to clear my head and find the nerve to be alone with three of the most notorious men in the world. I desperately wanted to channel the same energy from Friday night if only I could pinpoint the source.
Two buses and forty-five minutes later, I was standing on Sunset Boulevard, a mile downhill from the Beverly Hills address. I guess public transportation wasn’t allowed near the rich and fabulous.
Fantastic.
I’d only been to Beverly Hills once out of curiosity when I first arrived in the city and ha
ven’t been back. Why would I when any check I wrote would bounce?
Forcing my shoulders to square and the pep in my step, I started the trek, feeling like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.
The only difference was that she hadn’t been wearing high heels. I imagined doing this every day for the next three months, and by the time I reached the halfway point, I was seriously considering investing in a new car. Or at least a pair of decent sneakers. I couldn’t afford either.
I was limping by the time I arrived, and to make matters worse, no one had notified the guard at the gate that I was coming. Convinced that I was just a crazed fan, it took me ten minutes to convince him to call one of the assholes inside. I was forced to stand on my blistered feet, my freshly styled hair plastered to my head from sweating, and my thighs burning from the winding walk uphill while the guard tried several times before someone picked up.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Noble. I have a Braxton Fawn here claiming to have an appointment.” He then looked me over before deciding I wasn’t anything of note. “Should I send her away?” I glared at the guard’s profile while he listened to whatever Jericho was saying on the other end. “My apologies. Right away.” Hanging up, he pressed a button, and when the gate slid open, he immediately went back to Friday night’s game and his bowl of Fruit Loops.
“The 76ers won by six points,” I told him, making the spoon fall from his lips. I then swung my hips as I walked through the gate with a smile on my face. Okay, it was a bitchy thing to do, but seriously, fuck that guy.
Somehow, I made it up the short drive and to the front door without falling on my face. Knocking, I waited, half expecting to be waylaid by a butler or housekeeper this time but was surprised when the door opened and Houston stood there.
“You’re late.”
Of all the greetings, like “hi” or “good morning,” that was the one he’d chosen.
“Good morning,” I returned pointedly.
He squinted back at me. “I warned you not to make me wait.”
My fists balled at my side, thinking he’d look good with a black eye. “Maybe if you’d bothered to tell your guard that I was coming, I wouldn’t be late since it’s only two minutes past eight.” I didn’t mention that I would have been early had it not been for my treacherous hike in these heels. My feet throbbed at the reminder while Houston simply stared down at me. “Are you going to let me in or not?”
