by Amiee Louise
I shake my head. “Don’t apologise for him, honey, it’s not your fault he’s a complete fucking arsehole.”
Draven raises his eyebrows and laughs.
“She is feisty, I love it, and do you have a name, sweetness?”
“Yep, but maybe I don’t want to give it to you.”
“OK, let’s start again, I’m Draven.”
He offers me his hand, but I don’t take it. He tries to disguise my rejection, and he casually tucks his hand behind his back. Mitch offers me his hand, I shake it and smile.
“I’m Peyton, nice to meet you, Mitch.”
“I believe you’ve rendered the Draven Michaels speechless with your blatant brush off. I salute you, hot stuff!” He salutes, and I laugh, instantly liking him.
“So, how’s Lyla these days? I heard on the grapevine she’s back in town.” Sam smiles slyly, and it’s the first time I have ever heard Sam be anything but nice to someone.
I see Draven tense and clench his fists at the mention of Lyla’s name. Before I know what’s going on, Draven has drawn his fist back and punched Sam square in the jaw. Sam's head snaps back and his nostrils flare. He punches Draven in the nose, and blood drips down his face. I am still none the wiser to who this woman is, and I might have known the hostility would be down to a woman. We are soon joined by Jax, Lucas and a tall, slender woman with an hourglass figure to die for. She has long red hair, wide green eyes, and full red lips. She is wearing skinny jeans and a red bustier emphasising her ample breasts.
“Boys, y’all need to calm down.” Her voice is soft, breathy, and has a Southern American drawl. She brushes Draven’s arm. “Draven, a word, please.”
Draven’s eyes don’t move away from Sam. “This isn’t fucking over, Newbolt, not by a long shot.”
The woman turns to me and smiles.
“I’m Phoenix King, I’m the manager of The Devil’s Henchmen. I’m so sorry for his behaviour, if there’s any more trouble, don’t hesitate to come and find me.”
Phoenix goes to lead Draven away.
“Oh, Draven, make sure you give Lyla my love.” Sam smirks, and he can’t resist having the last word. Draven spins around and punches Sam in the face again. “I didn’t realise how much you loved my sloppy seconds, Michaels.”
Mitch and two other men, which I assume are the other two members in their band, try to hold Draven back, but he is too fast and strong. He rugby tackles Sam to the ground, and both men are full-scale brawling on the floor. Fists are flying, and chaos has ascended around us. Jax, Lucas, Mitch, and two other men are trying to stop the fight, but they end up being caught in the fracas. There is blood, limbs, and fists flying from every direction. I realise there is nothing I can do to stop it; I am rendered helpless and useless watching the violent drama unfold in front of me like something from a bad soap opera. Where the fuck is Cole? I feel like my feet are rooted to the floor and I can do nothing but stare. Unexpectedly, I am pulled away from the fight by a delicate hand.
“Oh, dear, all this because of little old me.” Lyla smirks smugly.
How does she have the ability to just appear out of nowhere?
“Who the fuck are you, Lyla?”
She pulls me towards the bar area where Cole and the club’s security are descending from all directions trying to diffuse the whole situation.
“I’m Lyla Hudson; I used to be in one of the biggest female rock bands, Hell on Heels.”
I thought her face seemed familiar, I remember seeing her on the cover of one of Ruby’s gossip magazines.
“We supported Rancid Vengeance for a while on tour. We did some rock festivals together, and we got to know each other pretty well. Sam and me we had a fling of sorts; it was just sex to him but never to me. That handsome bastard made me fall in love with him, I was besotted. When I found out it was going to be nothing more than sex, I went off the rails for a while. I had a highly publicised fall from grace, the band split up, and I lost everything. I hit the booze and the drugs hard, I did a stint in rehab, and it was all his fucking fault.”
Her voice sounds so full of vitriol it actually makes me feel sorry for her. I cock my head and regard her intently, not knowing what to make of the information she is telling me.
“Don’t you fucking dare feel sorry for me, my only crime was falling in love with a man who I could never have. He was so emotionally detached. We’d fuck like bunnies, and he’d just lie there afterwards with this look on his face.” She frowns at the memory, and I bristle at the thought of Sam with another woman. “It was like the shutters came down and he just totally switched off. I knew we were toxic together, but I couldn’t help myself, I was addicted to him. It was fun, exciting, and dangerous. I saw you together; when I saw him look at you that way it hurt because all those years I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at you.”
She laughs resentfully.
“Why are you so interested in mine and Sam’s relationship? It’s none of your business.” The tone of my voice is brusque, and she nods curtly.
“You make a fair point. I’ve followed his career closely for years now, and I was curious as to what all the fuss was about with this—” She looks me up and down, I feel my temper spike. I ball my fist at my side. How fucking dare she look at me that way as if she is superior to me? “—ordinary, plain, tattoo artist who captured the heart of the Sam Newbolt, famous ladies’ man. So tell me, Peyton, what did you do to grab his attention? Is your vagina made of platinum and encrusted with diamonds?”
I suddenly feel intense anger towards this woman standing in front of me. I sense a presence at my side, and I instantly know it’s Sam. I catch his familiar scent before I see him and a feeling of calm washes over me. I turn to him, and his face is a bloody mess. My heart clenches at seeing his beautiful face covered in blood. He swipes his hand across his nose.
“It’s nothing, angel, just a little blood, that’s all. I’m fine.”
He smiles. Lyla moves closer to him, and his face drops.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Lyla?” he spits out angrily.
“Don’t be like that, baby. Aren’t you pleased to see me? I’ve missed you.”
How dare she call him baby! I feel the anger bubbling up inside of me, and I’m not sure if I can hold it back. She drapes herself over him and gropes his crotch. That is all I can take. I push her away from him, grab hold of her hair, and punch her in the face. I have never been this angry in my entire life. I am so consumed by rage. Before I gather my wits, my forehead connects with her nose, spraying blood all over her face.
“You fucking bitch!” she screams, grabbing my hair and managing to get a punch to my nose before Cole drags her off kicking and screaming. Sam lifts me from the ground and carries me over his shoulder. He strides off across the club and into the corridor, setting me on my feet.
“You’re bleeding, angel.” I touch my nose, dismissing him. “Is it wrong that I’m hard?”
He laughs and runs his finger down my arm, causing goosebumps over my whole body.
“God, I need to be inside you, but I’m not sure if I should be kissing your feet or spitting mad for that floor show,” he says huskily, and I look at him.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, and I was so fucking angry.”
He smiles crookedly. “Green is a colour that definitely suits you, babe.”
I suddenly start to feel angry towards Sam for not telling me about Lyla before.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”
“She is not important; she is in the past.”
I fold my arms, suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of jealousy.
“She doesn’t seem to think so, she was in love with you, and she still is by the looks of it.”
He tips my chin up, and I look into his eyes.
“She is nothing to me, angel, you have to believe me, I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“I can’t be around you right now, Sam, I’m so fucking an
gry,” I say through clenched teeth, and he frowns.
“Please don’t be like that, angel, I’m sorry.” I shake my head and jab my finger in his direction. “I need to be on my own for a while, please don’t follow me.”
I spin around and run towards the club exit. As I run towards the exit, I collide with a hard chest. Strong arms catch me before I fall, and I look up to see Brody standing in front of me.
“Whoa! Where’s the fire, sweetheart?”
His eyes are wide and glossy. As I look at him, I realise he is completely off his face on drugs.
“Jesus Christ, you’re high.”
“As a kite, babe!” He winks and clicks his tongue. “You didn’t answer my question, where’s the fire?” I roll my eyes. “You’re bleeding, sweets, come on. Let me take you back to the bus and get you cleaned up.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me towards the exit. We step out into the cool night air and Skip drives us back to the o2 arena car park where the bus is parked. My emotions and the events of the night start to flood into my consciousness. I start to shake uncontrollably in the back of the car.
“Hey, I’ve got ya, sweets.”
Brody pulls me close to him, drapes his arm around me, and I look at him. He smirks.
“Not that I care, but Sam would kick my arse all over the bus for letting you bleed everywhere.”
“God, do you have to be such a prick?”
“It’s all part of my charm, babe.”
Skip parks the car and makes his way over to the bus. He checks the bus for unwanted guests, and when he deems it safe, Brody and I step out of the car and onto the tour bus. He steers me to the sofa and sits me gently down.
“I’ll be right back; Lex has a first-aid kit here somewhere.”
He strides off, and I realise that it is the first time I have been alone with Brody. A few minutes later, he comes back with two shot glasses. He puts down a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table and places the first-aid kit next to it. He sits on the table in front of me and is inches away from me. He opens the first-aid kit in his lap, taking out some antiseptic wipes and some cotton wool. He looks at me, and I cock my eyebrow at him.
“Are you not familiar with the concept of personal space?”
He laughs, and I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.
“You really don’t like me very much, do you?”
He leans closer to me and cleans the blood from my nose.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So there’s hope for me yet.” He winks, and I wince as he swipes the antiseptic wipe under my nose.
“Ouch.”
“Are you always such a baby?”
I hit him on his arm. “You could at least be a little gentler.”
He holds his hands up in defence. “OK, I’ll be gentle, I promise, scout’s honour.” He salutes. He smiles, and he actually looks sincere.
“By the looks of it, you had the pleasure of being introduced to the delightful Miss Hudson?” He laughs, and I narrow my eyes.
“Why didn’t he tell me about her before? Surely, you were all aware I knew nothing about who she was.”
Brody shrugs. “Look, babe, I’m not interested in yours and Sam’s proclivities, sexual or otherwise. If he wanted you to know, it was down to him to tell you. Personally, I don’t give a shit, it’s always been bros before hoes, that’s just the way it is, darlin’. I know I come across as an arrogant prick, because, well, I guess I just am, but he’s turned into a cockless wonder since he met you. We used to have fun before you came along, he was my best mate, we shared women, we took drugs, and every night was a party.”
He stands up, throws the antiseptic wipe in the bin, and goes to the sink to wash his hands. He comes back over to where I am sitting, pours us both shots of Jack Daniels, and he pushes the shot onto my side of the table. We both down them at the same time, and I grimace at the after burn as it slides down my throat.
“I know you think I’ve taken your best friend away from you, but it doesn’t have to be that way. I don’t want us to be enemies, Brody. Look, I know what happened to your mum, and I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through—”
“Wait, Sam told you about that?”
I nod, and he pours us both a second shot of Jack. “Motherfucker! He had no fucking right; it wasn’t his story to tell.”
“Brody, it’s OK to talk, I’m a good listener, and I’m actually kind of starting to like you. You’ve shown me a different side of you tonight, you didn’t have to take care of me tonight, but you did, and I’m grateful for that.”
I smile, and he knocks back his drink.
“Let’s play a game, if you’re up for it?” he says, completely changing the subject. I raise my eyebrows and knock back my second shot.
“OK, I’m up for it.”
He takes a seat next to me and crosses his legs at the ankle. He pours us more shots and smiles.
“Let’s play a little truth or dare game.”
I nod.
“Here are the rules, if you choose truth you have to take a shot.”
I smile, suddenly enjoying Brody’s company.
“You start.”
I lean back and take off my heels. I get comfortable, tucking my legs underneath myself.
“Truth.”
He points to the shot glass, and I take my shot.
“OK, has Sam fucked you in the arse yet?”
I almost choke on my drink.
“Using the whole ‘I want to be the first and last man back here’,” he says putting on Sam’s deep voice. He seems amused, and I can feel myself burning with embarrassment. I pause, not knowing how to answer, I just feel pure humiliation. I vow to talk to Sam as soon as he gets back. Brody laughs. “From the silence, I’m assuming that’s a yes? I fucking knew it! That boy has no shame; it’s his signature move.”
I feel the tears stinging my eyes. How could he discuss something as personal and intimate as that? He leans forward sensing my unease.
“Seriously, don’t sweat it, babe.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat and shake my head. Then I remember I am close to my period, which explains the mood swings, sore breasts, and extreme fatigue I have been feeling lately. I suddenly feel silly for overreacting at such a trivial thing, boys will be boys after all. I smile.
“It’s fine, really.”
“OK, my turn, I take dare.”
A few hours pass, and a whole lot of truth or dares later, Brody and I are extremely drunk, after polishing off a whole bottle of Jack Daniels and half a bottle of tequila. I have had such a good night getting to know Brody and his quirks. We definitely got off on the wrong foot, and my drunken mind thinks it could be the start of a beautiful friendship. I giggle at the thought, and Brody gets to his feet.
“I’m off to bed, babe, I’m fucking fucked!” We both laugh. “Care to join me?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and I attempt to roll my eyes, which makes Brody laugh hard.
“You wish, rock star!”
He laughs.
“You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetness!”
He winks cheekily and staggers to the bunks at the back of the bus, leaving me to pass out in a drunken haze on the sofa.
I am not sure how long I have been here, and I don’t remember how I got here. My mouth feels dry, and I feel the start of an epic hangover. I am woken by a heavy weight pressing me into the sofa. My eyes fly open expecting it to be Sam on top of me, but I am terrified at who I find: J.D.. It takes me a few seconds to gather my wits, and I go to scream, but he covers my mouth with his hand.
“Shhh, do not fucking scream, if you make a sound, I’ll hurt you,” he whispers harshly.
Even though his frame is tall and wiry, I struggle to push against and break free of the iron grip he has on my wrists. His eyes are wide and maniacal adding to his frightening demeanour. My heartbeat is thundering in my chest, and I can feel myself trembling underneath
him. I am trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to escape. My thoughts turn to what is actually happening. He is going to rape me. I try to get my erratic breathing under control, but he laughs.
“I can feel and smell your fear; good, you’re finally frightened of me.”
He laughs wildly. I find my strength and I try to buck him off me. He pushes himself further onto me.
“If you’re going to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one. You deserve to be used and abused. Once I’ve had you, you’ll be tainted. Sam doesn’t do damaged goods.”
