Holy fuck.
I just got propositioned by a groupie… who fucks Rhys… and signed an NDA. I’m going to throw up.
“Gia? Sweetheart, we need to move.” Rafe looks down into the limo at me.
He knows. I see it, feel it, he knows that he’s affected me. “You go ahead. I have to make a call.”
Please God, make this monster leave, please, I chant in my head.
“Gia?”
I look at him.
“You wanted to play, now let’s go.” He holds out his hand, and I stare at it. This is my moment—I can choose to fight or leave.
I take his hand and slide out. I have no choice.
I always fight.
RHYS
Past – Twenty-seven years old
Chicago, Illinois
“Granger, you want some?” Nuke pounds his chest like Tarzan. “That, my friend, is good shit.” He grabs a groupie and sticks his tongue down her throat.
I shake my head. As I bring the bottle of Jack to my lips, cold hands slither up my T-shirt and touch my chest.
“Rock God.” Fumes billow from her mouth like a Harley starting up.
“I will suck your cock so good. Ask Nuke about me and my deep throating,” Tea says, her voice sultry. Her enlarged lips look like she recently got a fresh dose of collagen.
“Wipe your nose.” I mutter. She pulls back.
“What’s your deal, man? Do you like dick or something?” She stomps her high-heeled foot. I couldn’t care less.
“Yep, you found me out, Tea.” I refuse to engage with junkies. The truth is, a month ago she would have worn me down and I would have let her blow me. Now I only want Gia.
“God, you’re an asshole!” She spins around, I’m sure looking for Nuke, but Nuke’s moved on. It might not be nice or even healthy.
Fact.
We all move on. None of us can stay in any sort of real relationship. Actually, that’s not true. My brothers—that’s who I’m in a relationship with. Which is why the Brat should never have shown up.
She’s crashed her way into my life, no hesitating.
Fearless.
She gets what she wants. What I didn’t factor in was that she was right. Gia makes me feel. When I’m with her, I’m me, the good and the bad.
I take a swig from the bottle. Why am I worried about her? I’m the one who will be destroyed when she walks away.
And she will.
This is the time where I should actually take Tea or any groupie and fuck them. Just be done with this song and dance we’re playing. Strike first, fast, and lethal.
Instead, I’ll feed my craving, this insatiable hunger that grows every day.
The green room door swings open and my eyes search for her, disregarding Rafe and the trail of girls he has with him.
“The fuck? I asked Toby to bring her. Where is she?” I say to no one.
Cash is in the corner lifting weights. He does this before every show. Ammo stands strumming his guitar, laughing at something a girl said.
The large flatscreen that displays our opening act reads Five Minutes. Then the camera pans to the mass of people stuffed into the United Center.
My cock hardens. This is my church, my one true love. The music I hear in my head, put on paper, and record.
For some crazy, fucked-up reason, people buy it. I never set out to be famous. I wanted it, but I was happy to be able to touch one person.
Playing in front of twenty-six-thousand loyal fans is a high like no other.
Reaching for my guitar, I ignore the hopeful faces of women who seem to all blend together now. I step toward Rafe who’s deep in conversation with Devon, one of our PR agents.
“Where is she?” I don’t care if I’m interrupting. I have to go on stage in under five minutes and I want her.
Rafe frowns and stops talking to Devon but doesn’t answer me.
“Gia, where is she? I told Toby to bring her.”
“Excuse us, Devon.” Rafe walks a few feet away from a confused Devon who instantly pulls out his phone.
“What’s going on, Granger? Need I remind you who her family is? We don’t need this,” he gripes.
I shrug and stare him straight in the eyes. “She’s my muse.”
Turning to Ammo, I say, “Let’s do this… Cash, Nuke.” I take another swig of Jack and nod at our cameraman, Bobby, who films us as we walk down the long corridor and out onto the stage.
“Turn on the cameras.”
I hear Rafe cursing. Doesn’t matter. I’m in my zone.
“Yeah, let’s do this.” Nuke jumps up and down cracking his neck. The intro music is at a level that no one should be near without earplugs, yet that’s nothing compared to the roar and energy of the crowd.
The door opens and we start to walk. BT and our road crew follow close, along with Fred helping Bobby not trip over anyone, since he refuses to use a dolly. He insists he likes the look of the camera moving along with us.