Twenty - River
The worst things in life come in fours. More specifically, the four bumbling idiots I texted out of desperation. Commit me now because I don’t know what ran through my mind when I pressed send. Too bad I can’t take it back. I’d give anything to have a time machine. Then I could go back in time, smack myself over the head, and throw my phone. It’s too late now, though. Here they are, pushing into the bar like wild animals stampeding over anyone who gets in their way.
“Bitch, you’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” Ode leans in awe, watching intently as they stumble through the door with feral looks. “They look like they’re about to rip this place apart for you. My god…” She whistles under her breath, looking at them with disbelief and fanning her face with a nearby menu.
I sigh, watching Kieran stomp his way through the rowdy crowd with a stone-cold expression. I swear everyone jumps out of his way when his eyes look around the room for the threat.
Said problem lurks in a booth at the back of the bar, hiding in the shadows, watching our every move when Kieran locks eyes with him and growls, planting his feet. Rad pushes through people with a grin, setting his sights on me.
“There she is,” Rad proclaims with glee, breaking through the rising tension.
Coming around the bar, he wraps his arms securely around me and squeezes me into his chest. The scent of his body wash filters through my nose, and subconsciously, I know I’m safe. Every ounce of tension melts away when I breathe in his scent and bask in the warmth of his hug.
“Here I am,” I mumble into his chest, gripping the back of his shirt and keeping him there within my reach.
Ashton Radcliffe may be outspoken and unable to hold his tongue, but he was my hero once. My knight in shining armor continues to protect me from the dangers threatening me.
Tipping my head back, I gaze into his sparkling brown eyes, tinted with concern. With a content sigh, I press my lips to his, savoring the flavor of his tongue dancing with mine. He groans into my mouth, pushing me back into the bar. Warm hands encase my jaw, holding me firmly in place.
“Is that what you needed?” Rad asks breathlessly when he pulls back, cocking his head and examining my flushed face until I nod. “Good,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands over my shoulders, relaxing me even more.
His dark eyes search the bar with predatory intent, finally landing back on me with a frown. “Why is Van here? Fuck. I thought maybe that other fucker had shown up again to harass you.” Worry lines crease on his face when he looks at me for confirmation.
“No,” I murmur, running a thumb over his cheek. “He hasn’t been back since you kicked him out. And hell, that was the first time I had ever seen him here.”
Lakeview residents rarely show up to Dead End unless they’re desperate. They’ve got fancier, nicer bars on their side of town without the crime rates surrounding it. Besides, Van has never come here before. Hell, he practically refused to come and meet me on this side of town unless it was at the record store. So, to see him out of his usual territory has me on edge.
“Why the fuck is he here?” Kieran questions with a growl, curling his fingers into a fist. Glancing at Van again, he frowns more, baring his teeth at the threat. Van, in return, lifts his beer and salutes the guys tauntingly. “I’ll kill him,” he mutters, tightening his stance and squaring his shoulders. “I’ll fucking murder him if he fucked with you. Did he do anything to you? Talk to you? Touch you?” A wild shift happens in his eyes as his voice raises with every word he speaks, pulling back his lips into a snarl.
“Is this why-why you texted?” Callum asks, blinking rapidly.
Stepping forward with a hardened face, which is so unlike himself, he looks over his shoulder. Every inch of his body tenses up, pulling his shoulders into his ears when his eyes find Van and his friend lounging in a booth, drinking their beers. Callum sighs, slumping into the bar stool. Shaking his head, he runs a hand down his face in frustration.
I nibble my lip and nod, not willing to admit he’s shaken me up as much as he has. It seems like everywhere I go, Van’s face pops up. The cookout. The record store. Just last night, after Callum had settled into bed with me, I swear I heard someone outside my sliding glass door rustling the leaves and tapping on the windows. I thought maybe it was Rad coming for a visit. Through the darkness, I couldn’t make out any shapes lurking outside, but I felt it. The eyes searched me out in the night, sending goosebumps down my arms and raising the hairs on the back of my neck. The only way I could shake off the feeling was by snuggling into Callum more and ignoring it until I fell fast asleep. In Callum’s arms, I felt more protected than ever.
“Is he bothering you?” Asher asks, settling across from us on a bar stool with a deadly expression tightening his beautiful face. If he weren’t such an assface, he’d be handsome as hell.
“No, and yes,” I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t know, I felt… Fuck, he makes me feel uneasy, okay?” I spit out, rushing my words together. My stomach turns at my admission, and my eyes fall to the floor, avoiding their stares.
Rad picks up my chin with two fingers, forcing me to face the twinkle in his eyes. “We got you, Pretty Girl, okay? That’s what boyfriends are for. And lucky for you, you have four.”
“You are not my boyfriends. How does that even work?” I say, shaking my chin from his hold. “There’s four of you and only…”
“Three holes? Yeah, we’ve discussed that. But you have hands, too. It’s like a fivesome for all, and we’re all satisfied.” Rad grins, pride puffing out his chest.
“That makes no sense, jackass,” Kieran quips, shoving Rad to the side. “And you are our girlfriend. You have no choices in this discussion.”
I frown. “Again, with the demands, Assface. I am my own fucking woman. I swear to God, you’re asking for a dick punch tonight.”
“The good kind?” Rad asks, wiggling his brows, and then his face falls at our sour expressions. “Okay, so not the good kind?” he questions again with furrowed brows.
Asher huffs. “There is literally no such thing as a good dick punch, idiot. For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I’m surrounded by idiots every day,” he mutters, along with several more unintelligible words.
“I take offense to that,” Rad says with mock hurt, rearing back.
“Shut up,” Callum grumbles with a snort, effectively shutting Rad up, who still grins like an idiot.
“Anyway, we’ll stand guard, Little Brat,” Asher says with a shrug, sitting back on the stool. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes connect with Van’s in a challenge like a dog staring down a perpetrator ready to bite.
“We got you, Pretty Girl,” Rad says with conviction, turning around and grabbing three beers from the fridge, opening them, and handing them out to the boys. “Now, can you make me a Pina Colada? I’m aching for some sweetness, which I’ll get from you later, but I need liquid sweetness,” he says, punctuating his words with a butt slap and grab.
“Sure, just help yourself,” I quip, throwing my arms in the air and promptly shoving my new bodyguards out from behind the bar before they destroy something—like my sanity.
“I got it,” Ode says with a sigh, mixing his drink for him and bringing it back. Rad grins when she sets it down in front of him and hums when he takes a sip. “So, are you boys stepping up and protecting my girl here?” she asks with a grin, throwing her arm over my shoulders and squeezing me into her side. Leaning her head on mine, she sighs.
“Anything for her,” Kieran proclaims with a slight smirk, bringing his beer to his lips.
I flush, sweat breaking out on every inch of me. No matter how often they tell me they’re my boyfriends or get that funny, protective look in their eyes, I have a hard time thinking they’ll stick around. Every important male in my life has walked away without looking back. So, what makes them so different? They can have my body over and over again. But my heart is a different story.
“These ones?” Ode whispers directly in my ear like she’s seen inside my brain and knows exactly what I’m thinking. “These are the good ones. That one over there? He’s bad news. Should we kick him out?”
My eyes stray to the man himself, sitting back in the booth, discreetly watching me with interest. Should I kick him back to his side of town? Probably. But he hasn’t done anything to warrant these feelings tumbling inside me. There’s just something about him blaring warning signals in my mind.
“He’s been steadily buying beers for himself and his friend for the past two hours. He’s not really doing anything wrong,” I murmur nervously, twiddling my damn thumbs.
“You say the word, and we’ll destroy his existence,” Asher says in a—fuck with me and find out—tone, pulling my eyes to his. “No one fucks with what is ours.” He raises a brow, daring me to argue.
Fuck with what’s ours? This again? I swear to God I’m going to wake up with a tattoo on my forehead that says Property of Whispered Words, and then I’m going to start throwing hands and breaking balls. Sinking my teeth into my tongue, armed with a retort, I sigh, deciding better of it. They came all this way to help me, and I should be grateful they dropped everything—which I am. So damn thankful they dropped everything to be with me. But sometimes, when they chip away at my independence, I want to bite their heads off. Is it irrational? Fuck yes. But I’m a strong, independent woman who just happened to need her men to fight her battles.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you,” I say, blowing out a breath and earning a satisfied smirk from the jerk in question.
“Looks like your little stalker needs a refill. I got them,” Ode says with reassurance, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
“You’re not allowed to go over there,” Kieran demands with narrowed eyes, following Ode’s every move as she speaks with Van, who smiles up at her, lazily swirling his finger over the edge of the glass beer bottle.
I blink a few times, staring at him. “Did he just say that?” I ask Callum, who nervously grins at me and nods in confirmation, scooting back in his seat. “Look, I’m grateful as hell you guys came, but you can’t put me in a damn corner. I have no intention of walking over there. But you can’t tell me what to do.” I raise a brow when Kieran whips his head toward me and gapes in surprise.
“What the fuck?” he growls, discreetly moving his free hand over his dick for protection. “Then don’t make me tie you to the damn bar because I will,” he growls, shifting in his seat. “And then throw him out with the trash.”
“Sounds like a plan, Big Guy. I like the part where we throw him out with the trash,” I quip, rolling my eyes. “But the controlling part? I’m a big girl.” Leaning forward, I snarl in his face. “Don’t tell me what to do. Got it?”
“If you’re such a big girl, Little Brat, you wouldn’t have texted us to come here and save the day,” Asher snarks, raising a brow and sipping his beer when I whip my snarling face toward him.
“Not-not helping,” Callum warns with a shake of his head.
“I am a big girl. But I don’t need someone telling me what I can and can’t do. You’re not my daddy,” I growl, inching closer to Asher, who grins wider.
“Yeah? And who says I’m not?” he huskily asks, knocking me back to my feet. I swear my face heats ten million degrees, and then he fucking winks at me. “Call me daddy, Little Brat, and see what happens.” His reply is laced in a threatening manner, but an edge sits in his words, warning me that if I do, in fact, call him daddy, he’ll explode. Most likely in his damn pants.
“Now, what about the tying down part? I’ve got rope at home. We could…” I grunt, putting my hand over Rad’s mouth until he’s grinning behind it.
“Leave it,” I grumble with a shake of my head, pulling my hand back and wiping it down my jeans.
A pounding headache knocks on my skull, begging for entry. Ugh. Could this night get any worse than it already is?
“Incoming alert,” Ode hisses, hurriedly coming toward me and nodding toward Van leaning against the bar, watching me with a mask of indifference lining his face. In reality, he’s anything but. His beady, dark eyes catalog the guys’ interactions with me, down to the wink Asher sends me again.
I spoke too soon.
Awesome. Here we go. Just what I needed. Kieran growls, aching to jump to his feet. Release the damn psychos. Next time I’ll rethink this whole River needs help scenario and maybe do it all myself. Who needs overbearing boyfriends, anyhow? Wait! Not fucking boyfriends. Just boys I fuck on multiple occasions and spend lots of time with when I’m off work.
“You’re our girlfriend, whether you like it or not.”
Shit. I think I am . And it’s totally against my will. When the fuck did this happen? And why the fuck am I halfway okay with it? Not that I’d ever admit that to them. That’d give them way too much satisfaction.
I lick my lips, locking eyes with each of the boys for good measure, letting them know who the boss of the situation is. Always look the bulls in the eyes to show dominance. Or maybe not. Kieran huffs, flaring his nostrils, attempting to get up. Asher rolls his eyes, clamping a hand down on Kieran’s shoulder as he struggles.
“For the love of God, don’t fucking move. I’ll take care of this,” I hiss under my breath, running my fingers across my throat threateningly because I will cut them if they move an inch. That’s not a threat. That’s a goddamn promise.
“Is this foreplay?” Rad asks, leaning on the bar and winks. “Do the sexy thing with my throat again. I love it when you suffocate me with your pussy!” he says louder than necessary, leaning over to glare at Van standing ten feet away. Heat envelops my whole body when I bury my face in my hands with a groan.
Van’s entire body locks up, and his fingers curl into tight fists on the bar top. Clueing me into how much Rad’s words affected him. But that’s the only indication he heard Rad’s words.
“Go before you unleash the beast,” Rad murmurs, narrowing his eyes at Van like he wants to slap him upside the head.
Me too, pal. Me friggin, too.
“Van,” I say, raising a brow. “How can I help you?”
Van bites his lip, looking around the bar. “So, this is the other place you work?” His fingers drum along the top of the bar with impatience as he peers around, finally looking at the four idiots who glare daggers at him.
I scoff. “Yeah, the whole time we dated, you knew exactly where I worked and never visited. What is up with that?” Not that I’m bitter or anything, but still. He can’t just waltz into my place of business months after we broke up and expect me to fall back into his arms.
He frowns, scrunching up his face. “I was always busy. You know that.” He waves a hand, once again staring in their direction, just asking for a damn beat down.
“Busy, right,” I mumble, rubbing my temple in irritation. I’ve been working all day, plus school, and I don’t have time for Van Drake’s shit tonight.
“So, you’re really hanging out with them?” Van asks, leaning against the bar and tilting his head. “Like for real?”
“I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with your shit tonight, Van. Yes. I like them. Are they assfaces? Absolutely! But I enjoy their company. Get that through your thick skull,” I say with a groan.
“I’m just… I’m just looking out for you, River. I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t trust them.” He shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “I’m just…” I hold up my hand, meeting his desperate eyes.
“Once again, thanks for your concern. But you have to let it go, Van. Like… are you following me to work? Watching me? You’re becoming kind of stalkerish.”
He rolls his eyes. “Right, me looking out for you is stalkerish? One day, Rivey. You’ll see, and then you’ll thank me for it. Until then, I’ll be around,” he says with one last long look and then walks out the front door with a huff.
“So, fucking weird,” I mumble as Ode comes to my side and shakes her head.
“What the hell is up with that?”
“No friggin idea. He’s been acting weird since I started hanging with them,” I say, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder, aiming at the boys.
“Well, you might want to get back. Booker is here and talking their ear off. He’s probably asking them if they’re treating you right and wrapping it before they tap it. Then he’ll go into the whole spiel about you being the daughter he never wanted, and if they hurt you, he’ll castrate them and mount their dicks on the wall,” Ode snickers when my face falls, and I swivel around to face the horror show.
Somehow in the past two minutes, the owner of Dead End has snuck in without being detected, setting his sights on Whispered Words. I watch in horror, my jaw falling open as they listen to Booker intently, nodding their heads to whatever he’s saying. No fear crosses their faces. Instead, they smile and high-five each other with excitement.
“Hey, Booker,” I say with a slight wave, interrupting their chatter.
Booker’s dark eyes meet mine in amusement, nodding in greeting.
“Hey, kid,” he says in a gruff voice, running a hand through his long dark hair and pulling it over his shoulder. “I was talking to the band that packed the place a few weeks ago.” Something evil sparks in his eyes, and my stomach drops.
“He says we were good, Pretty Girl,” Rad says with a grin, easing some of my tension.
My cheeks flare red when Booker raises a knowing brow. “They were pretty good,” Booker reaffirms with a nod. “That’s why I just offered them the Celebration stage in a month.”
My eyes widen at his offer. Not just any band gets to represent Dead End at the Celebration Street Festival. That stage is usually reserved for bigger names, drawing the crowd to our tiny little section of the festival. We have a tent, a stage, beer, and lots of food to sell to the thousands of people walking the streets and enjoying the festivities.
But we’re not the only attraction drawing people in. Food vendors from around the country, musicians, crafts, the carnival, and so much more line the ten-block downtown area for one weekend a year. It’s our biggest investment and the biggest moneymaker. It’s make it or break it. So, seeing Booker invite Whispered Words to our little corner of the world is shocking.
My eyes widen. “The celebration?” I question through a breath, confirming I heard him correctly. “Wait! What happened to Break? I thought the times were full?”
“Break took off to New York,” Booker says, scratching his scruffy chin and pulling at his beard.
“So, now we’re going to fill their shoes!” Rad throws his fist in the air with excitement. “We’ll be high on the stage in front of thousands of people!”
“Calm your tits,” Asher grumbles, pulling Rad down. This evening, Asher has been nothing more than a glorified babysitter. “Excuse my friend, sir. We appreciate this opportunity. We’ve gone to the Celebration street fair every year.”
“We always wished someone would take a chance on us. So, thank you,” Kieran adds with an earnest grin, saluting Booker with his beer.
“Well, I saw your video on ClockTok. It seems to be doing very well. Besides, River has been gushing about you guys for months now. She’s been so excited to have you guys perform. I haven’t heard the end of it.” Ope, yup. There it is. That’s why he couldn’t stop smirking at me, letting me know he was up to something.
My entire body becomes a cooked tomato, heating my flesh with embarrassment. I give Booker the stink eye, and he chuckles, tapping the bar top a few times.
“The gig will pay. We’ll give you twenty-five percent of our earnings that day. My advice would be to start letting everyone know where you’ll be now. There are no tickets necessary and no charges. Unless they want to buy food, and that’s where your money comes in. Most bands that come through have merchandise they sell: T-shirts, mugs, and EPs. But that’s up to you, boys. If you have any other questions before the festival, River can fill you in.” Shaking their hands one last time, Booker smirks when he walks by me. “They’re better than the last one. All of them, though?”
“Jesus fuck,” I mutter, meeting his stare. “What the hell did you guys discuss in the two friggin minutes I was gone?” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“Enough,” he mutters with a fake shiver of disgust. “Now, you’ll be in charge of their appearance on our stage. I’ll handle the food and the booze. Come October tenth, they’re your complete responsibility. It’ll give you a little taste of what band management is like.” He smirks, patting me on the shoulder before walking away toward his office with his hands in his pocket. He greets a few patrons here and there, shaking their hands, and finally disappears.
“So,” Asher begins, tapping the bar. “Looks like we’ve got a lot to plan before that show.”
For the rest of the evening, and every night after for the next three weeks—they come to the bar and plan out their set lists, hyping the future performance. Throughout the nights, they drink, eat, plan, and—my favorite—send Van the stink eye.
If I thought Van had gotten the message before, I shouldn’t have. Every night he sits in the same booth with a different friend, drinking while keeping an eye on me. And every night, the boys escort me out, drive me home, and Callum or Rad—or both—stay with me. Somehow, they feel the anxiety crawling under my skin and soothe me by never leaving my side. I’m still a strong, independent woman, and I happen to have four very protective bodyguards. The more I get used to their barbaric ways, the more my walls come down.