“And do what, exactly? Pledge my love and loyalty? I did when I married her. Try to be the husband she needs? She hid herself, her struggles from me. Beg her to see what we stand to lose, if we continue on that way? Did that, too.” I glare at him, spitting all the venom I feel. “What the fuck is this? Because your parents are finally on the same page, after decades of being at odds, now you’re a love enthusiast? I don’t want that fucking fate, and that’s exactly why we’re over. No, thank you.”
“You saw what I saw,” he digs in further. “Step back, please, East, and take a good look at what you’re doing. That’s all I’m asking.”
Panic seizes me, and even as I fight it, realization overtakes me that if I had a chance in hell of reclaiming the other half of my soul, I just sabotaged it with jealousy and pushed her into another man’s arms. Fully aware that even if it doesn’t happen tonight, it probably will in the future—which is the most excruciating kind of hell.
“I was unimaginably cruel,” I whisper in broken admission.
“I’m so sorry, man. But if there’s a chance to fix it, then you should try.”
“Yeah, well, how about I take your advice when you apply it yourself.”
He shakes his head in frustration as Joel walks in, no doubt leaving the seats we secured for his family to congratulate me. The grin on his face dims considerably as he reads the tension in the room. Benji lifts his chin to Joel in acknowledgment as I pull my cell from my duffle to see endless notifications coming in. One notification in particular has my boiling blood turning to ice in my veins. I look up to Benji before opening it and know without a shadow of a doubt what I’ll find when I do. “Doesn’t matter who filed,” I lift the phone for Benji to see. “She just signed the papers.”
Turning it back toward me, it’s when I note the witness signature, signed by Nate himself, that I allow the darkness to consume me.
Stinkfist
Tool
Easton
Ambling through the party buzzed, bottle in hand, throat sore despite the numbness taking over, I glance around to see several sets of feminine eyes homing in on me. Nowhere near interested in dipping my toe into that arena, I lower my head and make my way to my suite. On the way, I spot Tack and Syd standing together, surrounded by a group of admirers, and I salute them as I pass. It’s been a night to remember for all, and sadly, I’ve done my best to drink away every minute of it. After doling out strict instructions to security guarding the hallway that I want privacy, I slam myself inside my suite with an exhale.
Relieved I made it through enough of tonight’s celebration without overshadowing it with my personal shit, I head toward my balcony. Stepping out, I find LL leaning against the railing, sipping a Coke. His drink selection is laughable because I have no doubt his drug of choice is running through him. He turns to me, confirming it, in his normal state, shaking, skin clammy, and needing a shower.
“The fuck you doing in my suite?” I slur.
“Just admiring the view,” condescension ripe in his words, while rolling his eyes down my frame, “both of them.”
“Yeah, enjoying this?” I point to myself in my inebriated state. “Well, take a good look, asshole. I won’t be down much longer…and heads up, you’re the next catastrophic mistake I’m erasing from my future.”
“Now, now, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist, Easton. You really don’t know a good thing when you have it.”
“That so?” I say, stumbling slightly, my bottle clanking on a nearby table. “You’re such a prize?”
He shakes his head warily before he drains his Coke and wipes his mouth as though the act drained all of his strength. “No, mate, I’m the bad guy. But…” he smirks, “sometimes my misdeeds have a way of paying off. All along, I’m the man you should have been thanking.” He sighs. “Doubt you’ll see it that way now.”
I toss back more Jack. “This should be good. Thanking you for?”
“For jumpstarting your career. For meeting your wife. I knew making that call was a risky move. But you can’t lose anything you don’t have, am I right?” He pins me briefly with his glacier stare. “Who knew it would actually work in getting you to pull your head out of your arse.”
“The fuck?” I drop my bottle, stalking toward him, and fist his shirt.
He laughs in my face before shaking his head. “Temper, temper, young King,” he bites out. “You’re a bloody idiot, you know that?”
“Your opinion means nothing to me, or anyone else for that matter, but go ahead and enlighten me,” I grit out.
“Or what, Easton? You’ll beat me into submission? How has that been working out for you?”
Finding strength I never imagined I have, I release him.
Amused, he straightens his shirt. “As I was saying, I’m the one who tipped off Rosie. Rosie, not Natalie, because she was the one with the national gossip broadcast. I always wondered why that story never aired but ironically, a week later, your dad calls us in.”
I gape at him as he grips the railing behind him, his knuckles turning white.
“It took me a second to figure out why you suddenly pulled the trigger.” He smiles, his eyes glossing over, “and it was because a different journalist pursued my lead. Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Why?” I ask, feeling like I’m having an out-of-body experience as I glare at him, doing everything in my power to keep myself in check.
“Why else, man? To play. Always for the chance to play. You’ve been such a fumbling idiot with the gifts you’ve been given. Leaving us hanging for months without knowing our future. Every musician alive would kill for talent like yours, and you were wasting it. So, I did what I had to do to try and force your hand.” He sweeps me with a look of clear disdain. “Look at you now. A real rock star.”
“You’re fucking fired.”
“No surprise,” he snaps. “Nor thanks,” he sighs again as if bored, “not that I expected it.”
“Jesus Christ, I should end you,” I seethe. “Did you out our relationship?”
“No,” he slurs. “As much of a bastard as I am, I didn’t because I would kill to have a bird look at me the way she looked at you. But you fucked that up well, didn’t you?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re missing my point. Your life, right now, is made up of so many musician’s aspirations, and you’re squandering it on senseless emotions. Not the kind that matter. Anger is not fueled by the heart—bitterness isn’t either. Pride? Please, it’s annoying. You’re annoying, and you’ll lose it all by paying attention to the wrong things. The gigs, the women, you’re blowing all of it. You owe it to everyone dreaming on a rock star who wishes they had your advantages not to toss it for stupidity. You can start by going to get your bird back.”
“She’s just divorced me, you fucking imbecile.”
“And things aren’t going your way anymore because you’re all heart,” he taunts as if my answers are obvious.
On the verge of snapping, I turn my back, heeding Dad’s warning. I’ve already cost myself with my rage, and if I assault LL a second time, he could rob me of some of my net worth, or worse, cost me my career. Maybe that’s his intention.
“So why tell me now?”
“Because my dream has played out, and I’ll be honest, I’m disappointed, probably because I don’t have the drive or energy I used to.”
“Just get out,” I whisper, the need to hurt him surging through my veins. “Please, man. Just get the fuck out.”
“I have just one ask before you decide whether or not to bloody me up, mate.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, my back to him as I text Joel to come for him before I black out on him in a rage.
“Call a medic.”
LL’s words register as I turn back just as his expression blanks, and he falls, face down, landing in a motionless heap at my feet.
“Somebody help!” I scream, the music drowns me out as I dial 911 and turn LL over to see blood pouring out of his nose and mouth. A few of his teeth are broken, probably due to the dead weight of his fall. I’m on the phone with the operator, hysterically relaying our location, when Joel and Dad fly onto the balcony. I put the phone on speaker as Joel checks LL’s breathing, and Dad curses, frantically trying to get him to respond. When the operator prompts us for a possible cause, I look over to Dad.
“Dad, I don’t know what happened. One minute, he was talking his usual shit, the next, he was face down at my feet. I didn’t touch him, I swear.”