Pieces of Me (The Wilder Brothers #9)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

GAbrIEL

T he crowd chanted our names, their voices reverberating throughout the stadium. I closed my eyes as their shouts washed over me, and I let myself sway to the beat of the drums—a slight tempo used to invigorate the audience between songs. The guitar in my hands sang, and I strummed a few chords just to hear the people roar.

“Let me hear you scream!” Mal shouted, and the crowd answered in kind. “What should we play next?” I turned to see my best friend at his kit, sticks in hand as he played a quick beat, sweat pouring off his body.

We already knew what we would play next, the set list ingrained in our bodies, but people yelled their favorites—songs we had already played, songs we would never play, songs they wanted us to play with guests—yet we all took it in.

I never wanted this to become rote. Even as the whiskey in my system settled my nerves, everything felt new and wild. This is where we were supposed to be. This band. This group of people. Nothing would ever feel like this again.

“What do you say, Gabriel? Are you ready to be wicked or a good little angel?”

I flipped my best friend off, and the crowd shrieked, laughter and cheers echoing in my ears. “Well…” I said after a moment, my deep voice echoing through the mic. The crowd went impossibly louder. “What do you think, Joshua?” I asked our second guitarist and my backup singer.

Joshua pushed his shoulder-length, blond hair back from his face, sweat glistening on his brow, and shrugged. “You are the angel and the sinner. You choose.”

“He’ll never choose,” Rocky added, her deep voice smooth as whiskey.

“Oh, just choose already,” David snapped from the keyboards, though there was only humor in his voice.

“Well, if you want to play, David, I better pick a song you actually have something to do in.” I winked as I said it, and he flipped me off, the crowd roaring again.

We didn’t always need keyboards with our songs, but David filled in everywhere, a jack of all trades, and our oldest member of Wilder—the band I had begun with Mal when we’d been teenagers. Now Wilder was out on a fucking world tour.

It did not feel like real life.

“What about this?” I asked and strummed the first few notes of our biggest hit.

The crowd went wild, and Joshua started the second set of notes, walking slowly around the front of the stage, getting in the groove. Rocky added the bass, Mal slowly adding the drums, while David began a quick, soft melody that would grind down into the rock that we craved.

“ Rain falls down and washes away ,” I sang as we began, “Rain On Me”, each of us having our own parts to play to make it a whole.

This had started off as my dream, a dream I had never thought could truly happen, and the band held my name.

But right now, I was one of them —a music lover—in the stands, on the floor, in the band.

I let myself get lost in the music, in the shouts, and played to my heart’s content. This was my drug of choice, sliding into my veins with purpose and power. The whiskey, now long gone from my system, sweated out through my pores as I gave everything to this song and then the next.

And by the time we were done, my shirt had been thrown out into the crowd, the sweaty mess having been caught by a fan who grinned and cried in delight.

The other band members’ shirts had joined in, but Rocky kept hers, providing an obscene gesture when a couple of guys pouted that they didn’t get one and wanted to see her tits anyway. Considering Rocky’s wife could probably kick their asses, I wasn’t quite sure why they even tried after all these years.

As we ended our final notes and said our goodbyes, we rushed off the stage. Our people sprung into action, helping us take our instruments, handing over waters, a drink or two in some cases, and a cigarette in David’s. I was still riding the high, needing to breathe, and needing to do anything but think.

“Gabriel! You were amazing,” a high-pitched voice shouted at me. I looked over to see three women with tiny skirts and even tinier tops practically push through security to get to me.

They had backstage passes looped around their necks, so they were allowed to be back here, but Frank, our current security guard at this venue, didn’t look pleased.

“Don’t worry, Frank, I’ve got this,” I said with a grin before I slammed back the rest of my water.

The girls giggled and moved forward, each of them wrapping themselves around me. So it was just the four of us standing there when Mal came up beside me.

“Look at you, you selfish prick,” my best friend said with a wink, and one of the girls left me to hold on to him.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and a pouty mouth. “It’s okay, there’s totally enough of us to go around.”

I met Mal’s gaze and figured maybe we had enough time to indulge. Then again, we had to be out soon in order to make it to our next show.

We were finishing up the U.S. leg of our tour for our most recent album, even breaking attendance records at some venues. We would never be able to break certain records though, like the ones set forth by my cousin-in-law, Lark.

But she was in a whole other realm. However, Lark was settled down and happily married off to my cousin, and I was living the single life.

Honestly, women, booze, and anything that I wanted? It wasn’t too bad, considering that my brothers gave me shit for leaning into the slut boy life.

But damn it, why the fuck not?

David cleared his throat. “Boys, we need to be on the bus in ten. Unless you’re bringing them with you, you’ve got to say goodbye.”

“We can go with you,” the blonde said quickly, and the brunette and redhead both agreed.

I held back a wince, knowing that David had just been joking, but now we had to get out of this situation. As much as my dick was going to be disappointed, I had other priorities.

That must have been growth, right? Not being late for my bus, so I didn’t disappoint people, meaning I had to not get laid when I wanted.

Honestly, it was leaps and bounds of personal growth.

“I’m sorry ladies, but maybe next time we visit town?” I asked, as Mal already had one of the girls in his arms, his mouth busy. I rolled my eyes and looked at the two others. “But thank you for coming to the show. I hope you had a good time.”

“Do you want our numbers? That way you can get ahold of us. Here, why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll add mine.” The brunette narrowed her eyes at me, and I saw a calculating gaze there. I didn’t know why she thought she needed that cunning look. And there was no way in hell I was giving away my number. I wasn’t even drunk yet to be that careless.

“Why don’t you leave it with Frank here? I’ve got to take this asshole back to the bus. We have another gig coming up. We sold out Toronto.”

“And you’re doing amazing. We are so proud of you,” the blonde said earnestly.

I smiled at her, since she seemed like she meant it. I bumped Mal’s arm. “Come on bro, we’re going to be late.”

“Call me,” the redhead purred, and Mal wiped the lipstick off his lips, practically staggering at my side.

“Seriously?” Rocky said as she came into step with us. “Could you be any more cliche?”

“We have a girl in the band. I don’t really think that’s too cliché,” I tease, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. A few paparazzi snapped photos, and I knew there’d be a new photo of the three of us walking together, Rocky in between us. There was a contingent of our fans—and some that hated us—that thought Rocky slept her way to get into our band, and we probably traded her around. While I wanted to kick ass for that, Rocky didn’t care. After all, she was married to an Olympic gold medalist and world champion soccer player. And we all knew the truth.

I, however, was tired of it.

I nearly stumbled at that, wondering why I would think those words. I couldn’t be tired of this. I loved this part of my job.

I thought back to the last time I’d been at my cousins’ retreat in Texas, when I had had too much whiskey, and tried to drown myself in my sorrows.

Why the hell had I had been so self-absorbed?

I had women, alcohol, anything that I wanted. Fame, awards, glory. I got to go on stage with some of my best friends. There was nothing in the world that I couldn’t get with a snap of my fingers. There was no reason that I had to be so fucking melancholy and in my feelings like I had been that day. It had been the drink talking, and the fact that my brothers had been moving on without me.

I was just thinking too damn hard. There was nothing wrong with what I had. I had everything that I could want.

“Hey, is that Lacey?” Mal asked, and I frowned over at him as we made our way to the buses.

“Yes, what of it?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll go to her tour bus, see what’s what.”

I met Rocky’s gaze, and she glared at me.

Apparently, it was my turn to take care of the horn dog. I might be called a slut boy in the press, but Mal was twice as bad as me.

“She’s the bassist for our opening act. You sleep with her and you’re going to fuck things up.”

“I am not. I don’t fuck things up. She’ll know the deal. She’s in the business.”

I squeezed Mal’s shoulder and shook my head.

“You’re going to ruin the tour.”

“What tour?” Mal said with a roll of his eyes. “They’re not coming with us to Europe. It won’t screw anything up.”

“Mal,” Rocky grumbled, but Mal ignored us and headed over to Lacey.

The woman with a black mohawk and nose piercings grinned up at him, and he threw his arm around her shoulder.

“Well, hell,” I mumbled.

“It’ll be fine. He’s totally not going to ruin everything.”

I snorted at Rocky’s oh-so-convincing tone. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because it’s a total lie, but we’re used to it. I’m going to head to the dressing room here real quick to change. I hate getting changed on the bus.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there. Don’t be late.”

“We’ve got time. I just pulled you early so you didn’t make another mistake.”

I rolled my eyes, and she blew me a kiss, another photographer taking a shot. I ignored him, knowing there would be another photo all over the blogs.

Social media was amazing, wasn’t it? I loved social media.

I stomped up the tour bus steps, realizing I was the first one there. David was on his own bus because he traveled with his wife and kids. The former drug user and man who used to play drunk more often than not was now a family man.

I was a little surprised that Joshua wasn’t here yet, but he was probably making time with one of the girls he had met backstage. Surprisingly, I had been the first one to walk away. That was very unlike me, which meant I probably needed a drink.

I opened the small fridge that we had on board the bus and pulled out a beer. I quickly uncapped it and drank a big gulp before realizing that I wasn’t alone.

I turned to see familiar coppery-red hair and froze.

Because that hair was not Mal’s, no, that hair was his sister’s.

Briar.

“I didn’t know you were in town,” I said softly, shocked that my voice didn’t growl. It usually did when she was around.

She whirled on me and nearly fell—only at the last minute having reached out to grip one of the bunk beds. “You scared me. I didn’t realize you were behind me.”

“It’s not like I was quiet.”

I realized then that she had pulled out her headphones right before she’d spoken, and I winced. “Seriously, I didn’t realize you were here. At the concert or in town.”

“Mal wanted me to ride with you guys to the next stop. He said it’s because I’m not going to see him for a while.”

I couldn’t help the frown on my face at Mal’s idea considering the man wasn’t even here and had clearly forgotten his sister. “That sucks.” She glared at me and I continued. “He’s probably off with Lacey. So you’re not going to ride with him anyway. That is, unless he’s quicker than he usually is, and then he’ll be on the bus in time.”

The look of disgust on Briar’s face would’ve been comical if it wasn’t for the fact that my dick was once again pressing dangerously into my zipper.

It was always like that with Briar. However, this was my best friend’s little sister. And there was no way that I was going to let my dick have any say. Despite the fact that it had before.

Briar finally let out a long breath before pushing her hand through that mane of hair of hers. “Oh. Well, that’s just like him. Telling me to be here and then not showing up.” She rolled her eyes, but then she fell silent, and the awkwardness settled in.

I was never awkward with people. And I hated the fact that I was awkward with Briar. But there was a reason for that. A big reason that we were never going to talk about.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” she asked, and I cursed myself for even putting that out into the universe.

“We were drunk. We were acting on fun feelings. I was surprised I could even get it up at the time. Whiskey dick and all that,” I blurted, wondering why the hell I was rambling about my dick.

We both wrote songs for a living, with Briar working behind the scenes for other artists. She’d even helped my cousin-in-law when Lark wanted help with some of her album tracks. Briar had worked on a few songs for our album, though none of them were singles as of yet.

There were no words.

“We really don’t need to talk about it.”

She raised a single brow, looking sexy as hell. There was seriously something wrong with me. “Maybe we do need to talk about it because it happened. However, it was a mistake. We both knew that. We were drunk, but we gave consent. And it was a mistake.”

“Fine.” I ran my hand over my face, annoyed at this conversation. Annoyed that I’d even thought with my dick once again and screwed everything up.

I didn’t know Briar well. She didn’t travel with us often, and Mal was one of seven kids. So it wasn’t as if I really got to know all the Ashfords incredibly well. “Your brother’s my best friend. We don’t even need to go into further detail.”

“Fine. As long as things go back to normal.”

“Normal is all I want. We’ll never talk about it again.”

“Talk about what again?” Mal asked from behind me, and I whirled around, not having heard him. The sound acoustics in this tour bus were way too fuckin’ weird today, apparently.

“Oh. You’re back. You’re done with Lacey quickly?”

He frowned, glaring between the both of us. “I forgot my bag. I’m heading back over, though I feel like a shit since Briar is here, and I clearly didn’t remember. But Gabriel? What the hell, man?”

“What do you mean?”

He continued studying us before dropping the bag out of his hand and narrowing his eyes even further. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he finally snapped.

“It’s not what you think,” I said, holding up my hands, knowing that was the worst possible thing I could have said or done.

“Mal—” Briar began, but then I didn’t move fast enough.

After all, Briar had distracted me.

At least that was the excuse I was going to give as my head slammed into the side of the bunk bed; my best friend’s fist meeting my face.

“You slept with my sister?!”

And because he had a right to be angry, I let the second punch hit my jaw, even as Briar screamed. I deserved the pain, though.

They called me the voice of an angel, but I think it’s more like the voice of sin of a fallen angel.

Everything that I did these days just made me fall harder from grace.

And I didn’t even want to get back up.