Confessions (Tattoos & Tears Book 3)

by Amiee Louise

  I was discharged from hospital two weeks ago, and during that time, I suffered from constant nightmares. I wake up drenched in sweat and screaming, and as a result, I have hardly slept. Everywhere I go in the apartment I am reminded of Peyton; every room holds a special memory of her. The hole she has left in my life has had a significant effect on my mental state. I have made the decision to sell the building that houses mine, Jax, Cole, and Lucas’ apartments. A billionaire by the name of Nolan Wilder, who is looking for a new place in London has shown more than a keen interest in buying the building. I have looked at a few houses on the outskirts of London and have managed to secure a nine-bedroom mansion in Sawbridgeworth, Hertfordshire. A whole hour and a half away from the hustle and bustle of Central London. It is a world away, and I think it the peace and quiet will be good to help me heal.

  I have been told that time can be a healer, even though it has only been a month since Peyton’s death, there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think about her. I believe that you only ever experience true love once in life and my great love was Peyton. My Peyton.

  2

  Sam

  1 Year Later

  “Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance.”

  The crowd is going absolutely crazy for us, cheering, clapping, and stomping their feet. The chant is so loud, I’m sure I can feel the walls of the backstage area vibrate and shake. It’s an amazing feeling to be waiting backstage hearing a crowd of twenty thousand fans eagerly anticipating our comeback gig. It has been a whole year since we have played a live gig.

  Jax is tuning his guitar and getting himself in what he likes to call ‘the zone’ before we go on stage. Making sure he keeps himself to himself, he doesn’t like to be distracted before a gig, he remains the consummate professional. He, however, lets his hair down after a gig; that boy is the biggest party animal I have ever met. Though not so much these days because he is engaged and loved up with Ruby. She is three months pregnant with his baby, and she travels on the road with us when she can. She is a welcome addition to the madness of Rancid Vengeance and a calming female influence on us all.

  Lucas impresses his groupies with his stick spinning trick, living up to his stage name The Axeman. They’re all hanging on his every word and practically falling at his feet. That boy can have the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand with just a look. A look that he has been perfecting over the years and it always seems to work, one hundred percent fail-proof!

  Brody, the most eccentric and most unpredictable member of the band, with his newly-shaven head, is nowhere to be seen. He is probably getting laid on the tour bus with one of his many groupies; he calls it ‘Exorcising his nerves’. Brody never fails to amaze me; he is such a talented rhythm guitarist. He can get away with not practising for a show, which is why he spends so much time getting laid and chasing skirt!

  Now me, Sam, I’m a completely different story altogether. My heart is pounding, and I’m feeling a little nervous after being away from the spotlight for a whole year. Actually, fuck nervous, I feel like am actually shitting a brick!

  The night of this gig…I have been dreading it for the whole year. I have been throwing myself into music, writing and recording our new album. In my opinion, it is our best album to date. However, getting up on stage and performing in front of a twenty thousand strong crowd after a yearlong break, it sets my nerves on edge. I stare absent-mindedly at the floor, and I feel myself start to shake uncontrollably. Jax comes over and rests his hand on my shoulder.

  “Sam, are you OK, mate?”

  By my silence, I know that he understands what it is taking for me to even be here tonight. Even though we are at Madison Square Garden, which is over two and a half thousand miles away from where she was taken and killed, I feel like I’m reliving it all over again.

  Get it together, Newbolt, for fuck’s sake.

  “If you need me, dude, I’ll be just down the corridor.”

  Jax smiles reassuringly, pats me on the back, and leaves. After all of our years of friendship, there is a silent and mutual understanding between us.

  I lean heavily on the dressing room table and look at my reflection in the mirror. My stage persona, Bolt, is staring back at me with full stage make-up, black eyeliner, my tight leather trousers, black vest, and black leather waistcoat with angel wings stitched into the back. I am wearing a leather cuff to hide the deep scars on my wrists, chains, and studs, complete with my newly raven-black shaggy spiky hair and customised cowboy boots.

  Deep down I don’t feel like Bolt right now. Usually, as soon as I get my stage makeup and my stage outfit on, I am instantly transformed into my alter ego Bolt. But, I just feel like the same old Sam. The Sam that lost the woman he was going to marry and the woman who was carrying his unborn child. I reach into the drawer and take out a pill bottle of my anti-depressants, Seroxat. After all these years, I still need them to even drag myself out of bed in the mornings. I take two and wash them down with a bottle of water.

  The dressing room door taps softly.

  “Sam, it’s Ali, are you OK in there, mate?”

  Our new manager Alistair, the owner of our record company, shouts from outside the door. J.D disappeared just over six months ago. One day he was there, the next he was gone, disappeared without a trace. None of us have heard from him or seen him in six whole months. I can’t say I’m sorry to see him gone because there was never any love lost between us, not after what happened anyway. I look at my reflection in the mirror and paint the old Bolt smile on. I clear my throat and take a deep breath.

  “Yeah, I’m OK, mate, just give us a sec.”

  There is a pause, and I know there is a mutual understanding between Alistair and me. There is a mutual respect and a growing friendship between us, which was never present when J.D managed us. J.D was just our manager; to him, we were a product that made him a lot of money, generated publicity for him and his record company. Alistair is different. He is young, full of ideas and the most laid back person I have ever come across. I will never forget the day he told me the secret he was keeping.

  3

  Sam

  Eighteen Months Ago

  We are in the studio, having just laid down a few tracks for the new album. The rest of the guys went on to some club a while ago, and I said I would join them as soon as I have finished chatting to Alistair. He is so different from J.D, he actually listens to what we want as a band. He gets us in a way J.D doesn’t, and he is refreshing to be around. I send a quick text to Peyton promising her I’ll see her soon. As I’m putting my phone in my pocket, Alistair comes out of the recording studio and out into the reception area. He sets a glass of amber liquid down on the glass table and sits on the sofa next to me.

  “You deserve it, mate.”

  I laugh, and my phone chirps a response from Peyton. I pull my phone out.

  Can’t wait to see you baby

  I’m waiting at yours

  I’ll be the one naked and horny! ;)

  Love you

  P xx

  I smile to myself as I read her words. I fucking love her so much, she satisfies a deep need in me to protect her with every ounce of my being. It’s crazy I have been with her for such a short amount of time, and she has already reduced me to a shy, quivering mess every time I’m around her. In contrast, I’m a total wreck, pacing up and down like a caged animal when she is not around. I’m totally smitten.

  “So how're things with … Sorry, mate, I’m shit with names!”

  Alistair smiles.

  “Peyton.”

  He nods inquisitively.

  “Things are going great right now, I’m smitten with her, mate, first time I clapped eyes on her.”

  I puff out my cheeks and let out a long breath at the memory of the day we met. Alistair crosses his legs at the ankle and takes a sip of his whiskey.

  “Make sure you hold onto her mate, treasure those little moments together however insignificant they are. Definitely be one hundred percent honest
and totally up front, don’t wait to tell her how you really feel.”

  I look at him and take a sip of my whiskey.

  “I won’t.”

  He lets out a breath.

  “My fiancée died, and I left it too late to tell her how I really felt and how sorry I was for the way I behaved.”

  My eyes widen at his revelation.

  “I’m so sorry, mate.”

  I don’t want to push him further because the hurt in his eyes is evident.

  “We were in a car accident four years ago. I was driving, and I took my eyes off the road for a split fucking second. That split second caused us to crash head-on into a truck and roll into a ditch. She died on impact. I came round in the hospital, and I asked where she was. Before they told me I knew, I knew she was gone.”

  Alistair pauses, tears pricking at his eyes as he tells me his story. He clearly is hesitant to continue, but he finally does.

  “I…I cheated on her with an ex-girlfriend. It’s the biggest regret of my life, and I didn’t get the chance to make it up to her. We had a son together, Alfie. He is six now. He is growing every single day, and I couldn’t bear to look at him in the beginning because he is so much like his mum. I felt so numb, and I remember thinking after she died why her and not me. I survived, and she didn’t get to. They call it survivor’s guilt; I escaped with a broken leg, a broken wrist, head injury, and a few minor cuts and bruises. I felt so guilty for being the one that survived. I didn’t want to live, and I attempted suicide. I’m not proud of that, definitely not my finest hour, but I saw a counsellor for a year because of the flashbacks. But time is a great healer, or so they say; I have a new life now. Lexi and I, we have twin girls, Autumn and Bella. They’re two now. I felt so guilty for moving on, and I thought I was betraying Izzy’s memory, but I know she would want me to carry on living my life. I feel like I’ve got a second chance.”

  I listen to Alistair tell his story intently. Wow, I couldn’t ever imagine losing Peyton, I would lose my mind, and she is already my world. She waltzed into my life with her tattoos and feisty personality. I can’t begin to comprehend what Alistair must have gone through, and I vow to protect my Peyton with every fibre in my body.

  4

  Sam

  Present

  A gentle tap on the dressing room door catches my attention.

  “I said I’ll be out in a sec, mate.”

  There is a pause.

  “It’s me, sweetie, can I come in?”

  I hear Ruby’s soft, singsong voice and I open the door. She is standing there with her long black hair flowing around her shoulders, her warm hazel eyes, and tiny pregnant bump.

  “Ruby.”

  She smiles and steps into the dressing room. She brushes my arm.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I nod, and she cocks her head, giving me a knowing look.

  “Really?”

  I let out a breath.

  “A mixture, really.”

  I flop down onto the sofa and put my head in my hands.

  “Fuck, I can’t do this, Ruby.”

  She crouches in front of me and takes my face between her hands.

  “Sam, look at me, yes you can. Peyton wouldn’t want you to be sitting here miserable and brooding. She would want you to go out there and rock the shit out of this place! You know how much your voice affected her, and she loved hearing you sing, she was your biggest fan!”

  She chuckles softly, and I look up at her with tears brimming in my eyes.

  “Jesus Christ, I miss her so fucking much, Rubes. She was my reason to get up on stage, my good luck charm, and now she is gone. It has been a year since we last played a gig. How the fuck can I get up there and sing, when I don’t believe in what I’m singing about?”

  My hands start to shake uncontrollably again, and she takes my hands in hers.

  “I miss her too, babe, so bloody much. I’ve still got her number stored in my phone. I sometimes call it just to hear her voice on the answering machine, but it’s normal to grieve. It’s only been a year, no one would expect you to be over her. It takes time… Time can be a healer. That’s what all those self-help books say, right?”

  I look her in the eyes, and I can see the hurt. That very same hurt that I’m feeling right now. My heart is thundering in my chest, and I’m still shaking.

  “How can I go out there and face the fans, Rubes, I’m a fucking mess without her.”

  A stray tear rolls down my cheek; she wipes it away with her thumb.

  “We’re all going to be there, front row centre, me and your family. This gig is for her. You need to go out there and give them a show, give her a show, perform for her, show her that you’re still the same Sam Newbolt that she fell so in love with.”

  I stroke her face and she smiles. She gets to her feet, and I stand up, towering over her slight frame. She cuddles me tightly.

  “Knock ‘em dead, Bolt.” She pulls away and winks. “For Peyton,” she whispers, and I smile, grateful for the pep talk and the shoulder to cry on.

  Christ, I need to get my shit together.

  “Thanks, Ruby.”

  She brushes my arm and blows me a kiss.

  “Anytime, babe.”

  She leaves the dressing room, and I emerge from behind her.

  “Have you been hogging my woman, Sammy boy?”

  Jax laughs and slaps me on the back. Ruby cuddles him.

  “Just giving Sam a well-needed kick up the arse, babe.”

  She laughs, and Jax squeezes her. My heart constricts seeing the two of them so loved up. I am happy that Jax is finally happy and settled down, but I take a deep breath to quell the jealousy that’s bubbling in the pit of my chest.

  That should have been Peyton and me.

  “Come on, Bolt, let’s go and give them a show.”

  I walk with Jax and Ruby down the corridor, and I can hear the fans screaming for us, the noise is deafening. Ruby kisses Jax, wishes us luck, and leaves to take her seat. Donovan thrusts a microphone in my trembling hand and hands Jax his signature Schechter Blackjack guitar. Lucas is spinning his drumsticks, psyching himself up, and Brody is tuning his guitar.

  “Are we fucking ready, boys?” Brody shouts. “Let’s rock.”

  Jax and I go out first and take our places in the centre of the stage. Jax strums the opening guitar riff, and my adrenaline starts pumping. I notice my hands have stopped shaking as I lift the microphone up to my mouth. Seeing the sea of fans instantly suppresses my nerves, and I take a long calming breath before singing the first line of a classic of ours. As I sing the opening line, I feel as if I have never been away from the spotlight. My adrenaline is pumping, and I feed off the crowd’s raw energy. I close my eyes and let the lyrics wash over me until I am consumed by the music. I get to the end of the song and step to the front of the stage, looking out at the sea of fans that have turned out here for us tonight.

  “Good evening, Madison Square Garden, how the fuck are we doing tonight? We’re Rancid Vengeance; it’s so fucking good to be back up on stage in front of you all. Are you ready to rock? Let me hear you scream ‘hell yeah’.”

  The crowd breaks out into a rapturous ‘hell yeah’, and a grin spreads across my face.

  “Yeahhh! Let’s fucking rock this place to the ground, give me a riff, Flash.”

  I growl, and Jax breaks out into an impressive guitar solo, his flawless guitar skills never fail to impress me. He gives me a wink of encouragement; Brody joins in and moves fluidly across the stage to stand back to back with Jax. Lucas pounds a drum beat, and I start to sing.

  “I am lost to the music, lost to the void, lost to my eternal fucking sadness. Somebody, please throw me a lifeline.“

  I lose myself in the music, closing my eyes, letting the lyrics wash over me. As I hit the chorus Jax’s signature guitar riff fills the venue. I open my eyes, looking out at the sea of fans singing back to us and holding banners up for us. That’s when I see her, this woman staring intently
at me. She has short red hair; she is wearing a red Rancid Vengeance hoodie, leather shorts, and a black beanie hat. She isn’t cheering, singing or moving to the music, she is just standing still, her hollow eyes are focussed solely on me. She notices me staring back at her, and she starts to move through the crowd. She moves exactly like Peyton. I freeze on the spot. It can’t be, it can’t possibly be her. Can it?

  5

  Sam

  My heart is thundering in my chest, and I somehow manage to make it to the end of the song, whilst frantically scanning the crowd for another glimpse of her. In my fucked up brain, I actually start to question my own sanity.