Nine - Callum
Her smile hangs in my memories like a memorial of something I once had—my Little Star. The girl who brought out the best in me, helped to build me up, and then let me crash and burn in the worst possible way. I rub my chest over the masterpiece plastered on my skin in her honor.
Her lies eat away at my every waking thought, drowning me in the pain of her betrayal, even after so many years. No amount of distance eases the pain of watching your life fall apart at the seams.
Low music hums in my ears through my earbuds, low enough to be aware of my surroundings. Music eases some of the pain tearing through my chest. I focus on the words wrapping around my brain and unclench my fists, preparing myself.
My second reprieve stands opposite me behind the cage of the octagon, staring daggers in my direction. With a menacing smile and a scar running the length of his left cheek, he should send shivers of apprehension down my spine. But I wave it off, focusing on the screaming and heavy drums in my ears easing my soul. If he wants to fuck me up, then I’ll serve myself up on a platter for the taking. Knock me around. Bash my fucking skull in. It’s what I crave when I step into the cage—anything to momentarily numb the memories trying their hardest to resurface. I eye him again as a small man whispers to him, standing on a stool to reach my opponent’s impressive six-foot-seven height.
“He’s going to annihilate you, man.” I peer over at the fight coordinator, Ruthless, as he likes to be called, nervously biting his bottom lip with a frown. Worry sits behind his dark gaze, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his dark locks and grunts.
He’s an intimidating man himself, running this entire operation with his brothers. Standing at six-five, with his body covered in tattoos and a part of an underground gang, he should frighten me, too. Hell, there are a lot of things that should scare me. Not him, though. He’s as harmless as an annoying gnat fluttering around. However, he’s rarely on edge like now, bouncing on his toes and forming fists. He shakes his head.
“Seriously, Cal. You need to rethink this entire thing. He’s going to bash your damn skull in,” Ruthless grunts with irritation, glaring at me. What does he care? I’ll make him money tonight by taking a few punches. “Not to mention he fights fucking dirty. I better not have to scrape your brains off the damn mats after he razor blades you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” I mutter, pulling my arm across my chest and stretching out. Ruthless continues his spiel on how I’m about to die and that he’s not responsible for burying my body or carrying me out of here when The Beast tears me a new asshole and takes my heart.
“You have a damn death wish every time you come in here,” he huffs, pushing away from me with a frown deepening the wrinkles on his forehead. “Just be careful. And watch the damn Beast’s moves,” he hisses out a warning with finality, nodding toward the tall asshole across from me, jabbing his hands out an excessive amount of times.
The crowd wanders into the old bleachers on either side of the gym we’re currently taking residence in. An old panther’s logo, peeling from the walls, stares back at me with its mouth wide open, and the words East Point Prep splattered above it. I’ve never asked Ruthless how he came upon this empty campus. Years before, it was a prestigious prep school, then turned into a public school. Somewhere along the way, it was abandoned for good and left to rot.
I’ve never inquired on how he uses this without getting caught, despite the parking lot full of cars. Somehow, we’re never interrupted by law enforcement, and I’m forever grateful for the reprieve from real life. This is my haven. It’s where I go when my head fills with too many memories that my brain refuses to erase and knocks them into a black box.
The rising voices of the crowd crescendo through the vaulted space, infiltrating my ears over my soft music, which is another nuisance. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths, calming myself down and drowning out their cheers and taunts by tuning into the heavy melody playing through my earbuds.
My mind drifts to a faraway time, when I was nestled in the arms of the girl, I thought I loved—my Little Star. Even now, butterflies flutter in my stomach, heightening my nerves. That woman opened me up on so many levels, bringing out the confidence I shut away.
Fuck. I take several deep breaths, focusing on the smile she’d give me out of the corner of my eye, giving me tingling skin and tied tongues every time. Or the way we laid so many nights under the artificial stars placed above her bed. The memory of sneaking in through her unlocked sliding glass door, slipping beneath her sheets, and holding her tight, always rests just within reach in my mind. There’s something so precious about River West and what we shared for all those months until the rug was pulled from beneath my feet.
Ultimately, in the end, she ruined it by turning her back on us and sneaking around. So, we did the same when we left without a goodbye. Some days, I wish I had that closure to grasp instead of wondering how she took it or how she was. No matter how badly she tore my heart in two, she’s always with me.
My breath shudders when another unwanted memory resurfaces in the forefront of my mind. I stand rigidly as it flashes like a movie flickering to life, unable to stop it as it advances on me like a waking nightmare. Only this time, I don’t try to tune it out. Instead, I keep it close and let the rage, pain, and heartbreak overtake me as fuel for the deadly fight I’m about to endure.
Van growls, locking his eyes on me when I emerge from the shadows of the hallway of River’s apartment. My brows furrow when he pushes her up against the kitchen counter, slamming his lips into hers. Taking a step back, I shake my head, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. Out of instinct, I take my phone out and snap a picture of her infidelity. I may remember every detail of this moment, but my brothers need proof to move on. If they didn’t believe it before, they will now, just like me. There was no way I believed anything that came out of Asher’s mouth. He was never ready for her, always standing on the sidelines like an observer.
“She’s been cheating on us.” Ash’s voice echoes in my mind as I witness the deepening of the kiss and the unmistakable sound of her pleasure. “Cheating.” Again, it plays, forever haunting me as I retreat from the situation with haste and don’t look back.
The world sits on my shoulders when I throw open the sliding glass door, and I halt my exit, listening to the muted conversation down the hall. It’s barely a whisper in the wind, and I’m unable to make out what they’re saying.
Every inch of me splits into two at the heartbreak soaring from her betrayal. Fat tears track down my cheeks, but I quickly wipe them away. She doesn’t deserve my tears. Or my heart. Or anything that has to do with us. She took our love and crushed it in her palm, easily throwing us to the side for Van fucking Drake.
“Callum.” My name is a plea on her lips as she reaches for me, begging me to stay and saying more words I can’t understand over the roaring emotions turning inside me.
“Goodbye, River,” I mutter, giving her one last tear-filled look as I retreat and memorize her horror-stricken face.
She mutters more words, calling me back into her apartment. But the loud pounding of my heart drowns out her voice until I’ve made it to my car and hop in. For several minutes I stare through the front windshield and collect myself, turning every ounce of feelings I have off.
For the first time in years, I felt alive in the arms of the woman I grew to love. She brought me out of my shell and helped me face the world. I gave her my first, and I gave her my last. No longer will I allow women in my bed to manipulate or use me. My only future is the one in the limelight, playing my bass and living out my dreams, trying my damnedest to forget River West ever happened.
A drum pounds in my chest again as I revel in the anger her memory stirs and savor it for later. Never will I forget the kiss she shared with Van in her kitchen as I watched from the shadows. His shirt was off. His filthy hands were all over her. She didn’t protest when he leaned in and kissed her lips. That’s all it took for me to turn my back on her and walk out the door. Yet, here she is again in the flesh as our new band manager, living directly across the street from us, sent straight from the devil himself to torture our already fractured band. She’d never know it, but she’s the reason we’re four separate people who happen to play music together instead of one brain creating masterpieces.
She’s also the reason I’m here tonight, eager to have my memories erased. One kick and punch at a time if that’s what it takes.
Blood pumps through my veins as my steady heart speeds up, thumping against my ribs, while adrenaline pours through me. Steadying my movements, I watch my opponent’s every move, memorizing his strike and speed. In the back of my mind, I catalog them, storing them for later when we square off. So I can use it against him. No one here knows my superpower. They’d never suspect I use the very thing I’m aching to be relieved of to become the champion.
I blow out a ragged breath, bringing my shirt over my head, and lay it on the stool beside me. Finally, I take out my earbuds, letting the full effect of the audience overtake me. I continue stretching out, getting everything limber for the chaotic fight I’m about to jump into.
As the minutes tick by and Ruthless calls our names at the center of the beat-up octagon, all my thoughts leave, finally giving me the blank thoughts I’ve longed for since yesterday when I came face to face with my most bothersome nightmare.
I shake out my limbs and stretch my neck from side to side, forgetting everything. Inside the cage, there’s no past, present, or fucking future. It’s only my opponent and me. My fists against his. His kicks against mine.
The crowd grows louder as bets are placed around us when the bell rings, and we descend on one another. The Beast smirks in my direction, lazily making his way toward the center of the ring, where I wait for him to advance, and we tap fists as a sign of respect.
Rolling my shoulders back, I take the first hit to my right temple, and then the predicted uppercut knocks me back a few steps, knocking the air from my lungs. Swerving right, I barely miss his next throw and regain my stance with a sadistic grin.
A small cut opens on my forehead, trickling warm blood down my cheek, dripping to the mats below. I grin more in his direction when he advances with a frustrated growl again, with a cockiness dictating his every move. He’s so damn confident he’s about to take me down, but I have more tricks up my sleeve.
Stepping to my left, I throw up my arms and block his next hit, thudding against my flesh. A chuckle bubbles up from my throat when I leap back, putting my fists to my side.
“That’s all you got?” I ask with a light tone, smiling more when his nostrils flare. Like a bull running at full speed, he advances toward me in a fury of fists and kicks my thighs as his answer.
Around and around, we go trading punches and kicks. With a grunt, my foot lands in the middle of his abdomen, knocking him back a few staggering steps. Exhaustion sweeps through his fallen expression as he stumbles into the cage, bouncing off it with a huff. With one final growl, he advances on me, pummeling me with a fury of fists against my skull and jaw. Black dots spot my vision until adrenaline blasts through my veins one last time, and I knock him back with one single blow to the head.
Victory rings through the crowd, howling my name so loudly the walls shake and clap with enthusiasm. I grin, raising my tired arms in the air, as The Beast lies flat on his back with his arms curling in the air, looking lifeless with his eyes closed. Bruises line his body and face, swelling from the intensity of my hits, and peace washes over me.
“Rock Star! Rock Star!” they chant over and over as Ruthless grips my bloodied hand in the air, waving it around in victory.
“You fucking did it,” he mutters with an impressed grin.
I snort. “And you doubted me?” I raise a brow, gazing through the crowd, memorizing all the usual fans heading toward the betting desk to cash in on their winnings. All thanks to me.
My mind melts into static with no visions of my memories coming to the surface. This is the moment I live for. The minute I stand in victory with my arm raised and my emotions buried so damn deep, even my photographic memory can’t touch them and torture me.
Standing on my throne above the rowdy crowd, I gaze around, taking everyone’s faces. My eyes grow wide, and my entire body stiffens when a pair of familiar green eyes stare back at me with her arms crossed and her brow raised.
“Fuck,” I mutter as Ruthless lets my arm go and pats me on the back in congratulations.
“Your cut is at the booth or…”
“Donate it to the usual charity,” I say, unable to break my gaze.
Satisfaction roars through me when her eyes wander down my bare chest and widen at the art adorning my flesh. All the air leaves my lungs when she stiffens, eyes locking on the intricate tattoos carved into the skin over my heart. Her jaw falls, and her brows furrow with confusion. It’s a special piece I knew she wouldn’t miss once her eyes locked on it. If only I had wanted her to see it yet.
“You got it,” Ruthless says, stepping to the side of the ring and demanding one of the workers clear the blood off the ground and get ready for the next fight.
My heart pounds when Rad tenses beside her, discreetly shaking his head at me. Guilt swims across his features, and he swipes a hand down his face, shrugging over the situation like he had no choice but to come here with her.
I know the moment I walk over there; my ass will be facing the music. My fate—our fate—lies in her hands. But it was all worth it. The sneaking out. The fight. Even if it means our music career is completely over. It was a good fucking ride. Maybe I’m ready for it to be over because you never really know what you have until it’s yanked from your grasp.
I long for the brothers I had before. The ones who looked after me and never turned their backs on me. I long for the basement concerts. Something that was just for us. Sure, I love the stage and more than appreciate my fans. I wish I had more time to live for myself and enjoy the music again. An ache forms in my chest, longing to turn back the clock to a simpler time.
My mind turns off momentarily, letting me forget the persistent memories knocking around in my head. For one fleeting moment, I had peace. And now, I’m about to shatter it with the reality of what I’ve done.
I take one last long sweep of the crowd, finally breaking River’s standoff. The usual suspects dot the crowd, talking with their buddies and drinking beers with smiles. In the corner of the room, I take stock of a large man near the bleachers, huddling with three other men. Something in the back of my mind tells me to pay attention to this moment because, in these parts, they’re strangers.
“They newcomers?” I ask Ruthless, nodding to the men in question, and he nods.
“Friends of The Beast,” he says with a shrug. “Been here a few times before.” I rub my chin at the new information and purse my lips. “That one is Adrian something or other,” he says pointing to a larger man, scowling at his friends. “Then there’s Kaleb, Derek, and Greg.”
I narrow my eyes when the large man, Adrian, leans down, having a heated discussion with a shorter man dressed in black, hiding his face from view under a ball cap. Shaking my head, I shrug off the odd feeling building in my chest in a warning. Whatever they’re discussing sends Adrian on his way with a scowl. By the way, his head soars above the crowd; he’s a few inches taller than the Beast I destroyed. Speaking of…
I peer back at the giant still laid out in the octagon, mumbling to the shorter man who was with him until they hoist him up and cart him off the mats.
Collecting my shirt and earbuds from the stool where I left them, I take a few steps toward River and Rad, standing in the back of the crowd, just as the big man knocks into both of them, flinging River to the ground. My damn heart jumps out of my chest, and my jaw clenches. She shrieks angrily, her entire body disappearing from view.
My lip raises in disgust when he looms over them, poking a finger into Rad’s chest. With every poke the big man gives, Rad’s face tightens, and his nostrils flare as he goes toe to toe with him and doesn’t back down. Fuck. I have to get over there and help him, despite our differences these days. He’s still my oldest friend, no matter the weird tension we’ve felt lately between the band. We’ve never been the same since we left Central City. Or since River West.
I curl my fists, laying my shirt over my bare shoulder, and beeline it toward Rad, whose reddened face gives away his rising rage. He’s two seconds away from snapping on the man, just like I am.
“Watch yourself,” I grunt, getting into Adrian’s face and bumping his shoulder as he continues leering down at River, sprawled out on the sticky floor.
“You watch yourself. You think just because you won against him, you could win against me?” he growls, grinding his teeth together.
He inches his face toward mine, snarling as he takes me in. I roll my eyes at his attempt to rile me up and shove a hand into his chest, knocking him back a step.
“Shut up and leave,” I say, folding my arms across my bare, sweaty chest. “Or you’ll have the same fate.”
Blinking a few times in my direction, he chuckles at me. A smirk lifts at the edge of his lips when he peers down at River again, letting his eyes roam the entirety of her body. A deep growl works its way up my throat at his apparent interest, and I step up again, forcing him to look at me. Not her. No one looks at her like that.
He smirks at me and waves a hand like I’m not worth the effort. “Sure, I will,” he chuckles without another word and leaves the building without fanfare.
“Fuck’s sake,” River grumbles, slapping Rad’s awaiting hand away, climbing to her feet.
Rad frowns, bringing his hand to his chest. “Rude,” he grumbles, shaking it out.
River’s nose wrinkles as she brushes the dirt from her jeans and rights herself. “What an asshole,” she huffs angrily, watching where he disappeared. Turning her gaze to mine, she raises an expectant brow. “So, fighting. Huh?”
I blow out a breath, running a hand down my face. How the hell do I explain this to her and keep our contract intact? I might not want this anymore, but Kieran’s sanity depends on this damn gig. If he doesn’t have music in his life, I don’t know what he’ll do. And the other two haven’t said they’re ready for a change. Not that we fucking talk anymore, but still.
“Um, yeah-yeah,” I stammer softly, getting lost in the expanse of her green eyes that soften at my voice. “Better than drugs,” I mutter as dread fills my system.
That was a different time when my open wounds still bled from the lies, and I took things into my own hands to forget the misdeeds of the woman I loved. The poison was too accessible, and we had too much money at our fingertips. Only, it didn’t work. It never took the pain locked in my damn bones away. It didn’t even numb the ache in my chest and left me craving more. After days of detox, I sought other forms of relief. Then came fighting. One knock to the skull, and all the pain hidden inside my body disappeared into thin air, and sweet oblivion took hold, letting me forget my misery.
Blowing out a breath, she shakes her head almost in disappointment at me. “Okay, well. Obviously, we need to have a little chat. So, let’s roll,” she says, waving a hand and taking off toward the door without another word or looking back.
“Sorry, man,” Rad murmurs, standing close to me as we follow her through the exit and step out into the warm air. “But you weren’t exactly discreet with your escape. Next time, roll your bike to the damn gate or something.” He side-eyes me with disappointment.
I shrug, poking at a children’s bandage plastered to the side of his face. “Why are you wearing so many?” I grunt, pulling my shirt over my head and situating it against my sticky skin.
He rubs the back of his neck, looking at River, who walks ahead of us and then back to me with apprehension.
“I, uh, fell off my bike, and her kid patched me up,” he says softly, keeping his voice low.
I snort. “With fifty bandages? Damn. You hurt?”
“So, you don’t know either, do you?” he whispers with discretion, stopping our retreat by curling his fingers into the front of my shirt and bringing us chest to chest. His dark eyes widen with desperation.
“Know what?” I ask, trying to pull away from him, but he clings on.
“You should see her, dude.” His whisper comes out with strain, holding back tears and swallowing the emotions. Shaking his head, he swallows hard. “She’s the spitting image of him.” His lips roll together, and he shakes his head. “Do you ever feel that something isn’t right about how we left and what happened? Like something feels so fucking off right now. Have you ever felt that way? Like everything was set up just a little too easily?”
“What are you talking about? Who is she? And who’s the spitting image of who?” I ask through my confusion. My heart falls into my ass as the past rushes forward at his words. He had the video. I had the picture. It was as clear as day as to what happened. She cheated. We left. End of fucking story.
“Lyric,” he mumbles, wincing when River calls our names from the parking lot and puts her hands on her hips. “River’s daughter. Kieran’s daughter. Our daughter.” The way he says our gives me pause.
My entire body locks up. “What?” My breath leaves my lungs as my mind reels. “Kieran’s? Ours?” What the hell is he saying?
“Yeah,” he whispers, letting me go and heading down the path toward the darkened parking lot.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I hiss, stomping after him and grabbing his shoulder, stopping him again. My brows furrow. “What do you mean Kieran’s kid and her kid? Our kid? She….” I stop dead, reliving that night over and fucking over, like so many times before. It never leaves, especially since she walked back into my life a day ago. Maybe I missed something. Perhaps my damn emotions ruled my decisions that night. But fuck. I trust Asher with my entire life. So, would he lie to us?
“She called me daddy, dude. She…” He shakes his head again, wiping a hand down his face looking more heartbroken than I’ve ever seen him. “River and I talked. But I think you need to talk to her, too. Especially about what you saw, bro. I think…” He shakes his head wearily. “I don’t know what to fucking think anymore.” With that, he walks away with his head hung low.
What the hell was going on? I shake my head, trotting after him at a quick pace, meeting them at River’s SUV.
“Fuck,” she grumbles under her breath, patting her pockets. “Did I bring my phone?” she asks Rad, who shrugs in response. She blows out a frustrated breath. “Monday morning, we’ll talk about this, okay?” she says, cocking her head to the side when I nod.
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter, shoving my hands into my pocket.
“So, you’re not kicking us out yet, Pretty Girl?” Rad asks with an easy grin, rubbing his hands together.
“Your contract is safe for another day. Believe me. You’re not the only idiots to try and press my buttons. But next time, let’s have a discussion before we sneak out. I know you guys had lives before I became your warden. At least you didn’t snort coke out of some groupie’s ass,” she mutters the last part with a wrinkle of her nose.
“What?” Rad chokes, bending at the waist.
“Out-out of the ass?” I ask, clearing my throat and trying not to laugh.
She snorts. “Oh, long story. Can I trust you’ll be a good boy and go back to the band house? I don’t need to follow you around and document your activities for the label?”
“Scouts honor, Pretty Girl. He’ll head straight home,” he says, giving me the stink eye.
“Yes-yes. Straight home, boss,” I say with a smirk lifting the edge of my lips.
“Fine,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go.”
I stand back as River starts the car, and Rad pops into the passenger’s seat with an animated smile. There’s something there with him as he leans closer to her and whispers something. She shakes her head with a small smile before taking off down the highway.
I meander toward my bike and pop my helmet on, starting my Harley. The loud, echoing boom from my exhaust bounces off the abandoned administration buildings of the old prep school. Ruthless once told me why this place shut down so many years ago and why so many people from East Point Bluff refuse to step foot here or pretend this place doesn’t exist. It chills my blood to know such a powerful and murderous cult walked the same streets I do now.
Taking off down the highway, everything hits me at once. Rad’s words. The fight. My memories. Most importantly, Kieran’s daughter. His comments from the limo fester under my skin, and my teeth grind.
If he fucking knew about River’s daughter, why hasn’t he said anything? Why hasn’t he stepped up and taken responsibility for her? Fuck. My brain screams at me as I travel along the highway and finally make my way to the gates separating our new home from the outside world.