63. Ethan
SIXTY-THREE
ETHAN
“ W hat are they doing?” I asked as I sat in the office with the guys, a day after we’d watched Fallon get beaten back into joining the kings.
Rosalie had a showcase at the university tonight; she’d joined Anson’s provoking, and we’d promised to be there.
I was excited to watch her perform. I loved seeing her onstage.
She’d not been herself lately, but neither had any of us.
Something about her being sad got to me more than anyone else, though.
I hated to see her cry. Walking in on her crying with Fox had nearly broken me.
She still didn’t tell me what set her off, but I assumed it was just everything that happened with the kings and all the shit that went down in that alley.
She’d only woken up twice from bad dreams. I was hopeful that they wouldn’t come back. God knew we were already living in a damn nightmare. We didn’t need to escape into new ones while we tried to sleep. I was a fucking testament to that.
“Looks like Bianca came clean about Drake,” Cole said, settling on the couch next to me and swallowing a shot of Enzo’s expensive scotch. “The kings are letting Drake in.”
“They’re not going to beat him like they did to Fallon?” Fox asked from his spot in a chair next to me.
“Uh, no.” Enzo let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “It seems Dom is going to make Drake fuck Bianca in front of them.”
I blinked rapidly at that information. “Is that… a punishment? I don’t understand. She’s beautiful and…”
“Fucking hot? Gorgeous?” Cole let out a loud laugh. “It’s OK to say it, E. We know she is.”
“It’s disrespectful,” I muttered, my cheeks hot.
Enzo waved me off while Cole continued to snicker. “It’s fine. We know she’s a beautiful woman. The kings know it, too. We have our queen, who is just as perfect. Just because we admire beauty doesn’t mean we will do anything more than appreciate it.”
I nodded. I supposed he was right. I didn’t look at other women the way I looked at Rosalie.
I recognized beauty when I saw it, and two years ago, I might have acted on it, but never pursued it beyond a single night.
In fact, any girl I’d ever been with before I’d been wasted out of my mind.
I’d never been with a woman sober before Rosalie.
I’d never been able to do it. I hated other people touching me, so sex was a bit difficult before Rosalie.
Getting blasted out of my fucking head helped me get laid.
I was ashamed to admit it, but there it fucking was.
I couldn’t even really remember all the women I’d fucked.
Not a single one of them stuck out in my mind because of how fucked I’d been on all the drugs.
No one but Rosalie had ever made me feel how I felt now, and no one had ever made me want to wake up next to them the following morning. With Rosalie, I knew she was the person I wanted to spend my entire life with—without a doubt, no questions asked. Rosalie was my everything.
“What time do we need to be at the university?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.
“We should probably leave now,” Fox said, slamming back his drink and getting to his feet. “Rosie got us front-row seats.”
“Great,” Cole muttered. “Front row to see that dick on stage with her.”
“Hey,” I said, frowning at him. “She’s the star of the show, man. Focus on her. The more you keep on Anson, the worse it gets. He’s not a bad guy. I like him?—”
“Then go suck his dick,” Cole snapped at me, his blue eyes flashing. “It’ll save Rosalie the job of doing it after he keeps fucking begging her for it.”
“You’re out of fucking line,” Fox snarled, glaring at Cole. “If you think she’s like that, then you need to check your fucking bags on the way out of here.”
Cole had the decency to look ashamed. “I just hate him.”
“You can fucking hate him all you want, but the minute you drag Rosalie into that hatred, we’re going to have a problem,” Fox said, his hands balled into fists. “You’re my brother, Cole, and I love you, man, but if you ever say shit like that again, I’ll straight up throw you out of here myself.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Cole said, tugging at his hair. “I had too much to drink, and anytime Ass Hat is involved, I lose it. I’m sorry.”
“You fucking better be,” Fox muttered.
“I don’t want any fighting tonight. Please,” I begged softly. “Life is already hard enough. I don’t like that we keep falling apart every other damn day.”
Fox sighed and walked to the door.
“Cole, cool it,” Enzo said, finally speaking up. “This is Rosalie’s night. Keep your shit in check.”
“You’re one to talk.” Cole shook his head but followed Fox to the door.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I grumbled. “I’m so tired of it.”
“It’ll be fine," Enzo murmured. Yet something in his tone made me feel he was dead wrong.
She was mesmerizing as she belted out the lyrics to a song she wrote with Anson. He played guitar next to her; the look in his eyes as he watched her was all I needed to know.
He had it worse than I initially thought.
Everything about Rosalie had him enraptured. He didn’t even try to hide it anymore.
Just like with me and the guys. She had that effect on people.
I glanced at Fox, who smiled at the pair on stage. A few months ago, he’d be sitting like Cole and Enzo were with their faces set in masks of annoyance and anger, but now, he smiled and tapped his fingers along to the beat as the pair performed to a sold-out show.
Anson should be with us. We could do it if Dom and the kings could allow Drake, an enemy, and lord in.
Our dynamics would improve significantly.
I didn’t care that he was Matteo’s son and heir; I cared about Rosalie.
Enzo needed to see the bigger picture. If we let Anson in, Matteo might just back off us.
He wouldn’t want to harm Anson, and Anson would be a horseman.
I watched, fascinated, as Rosalie moved like an angel across the stage. She interacted with the band. She pointed to the audience, who were just as enraptured as I was, and smiled.
And then she went to Anson and cradled his face as she crooned the last lines to the song.
So I’ll keep you in spaces
Between every breath I take
A love that lived…
It’s just a lifetime… too late.
I winced as the final note hung in the air. The crowd roared around us, people standing to cheer.
I cast a quick look at Cole to see him visibly shaking. Enzo’s mouth turned into a deep frown as they both clapped while on their feet. Fox, of course, was cheering loudly on his feet, shouting her name.
“Bishop! Bishop!”
Had she chosen that as her stage name? My stomach twisted. I didn’t even know, and that was sickening. For someone who loved her like I claimed, I didn’t even fucking know her stage name. But Fox did. Fox knew everything.
I clapped loudly, trying to force all my desperate thoughts out of my head as they began to flood in.
We aren’t the ones. We aren’t good enough. We’re fucking everything up. We will only ruin her life. Her dreams. She could just flat-out leave us for him. He’s so much better than I could ever be. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
“E? You OK? Hey, man. Come back to me,” Fox’s voice cut through my heavy breathing.
I blinked rapidly, aware that I was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.
“E, what the fuck,” Cole whispered frantically. “Not here, man. Not now.”
“Come on,” Enzo said, glancing around. People hadn’t noticed my complete meltdown yet, but she did.
Rosalie’s eyes locked on me. The smile slid off her face, worry replacing it.
No, baby. I-I’m OK. I’ll be OK. Please, don’t come to me. Don’t ruin your night.
She stepped forward. I couldn’t let myself become the center of attention. She deserved her moment.
I stumbled across the aisle and made a mad dash to the men’s room. While inside, I turned on the water and splashed it onto my face. I looked like shit. My body trembled as I tried to breathe.
I can’t fucking breathe!
With shaking hands, I pulled a sugar kit out and made quick work of injecting it deep into my veins. I collapsed onto the floor and rocked on my ass, my head in my hands.
Fuck.
Why?
Why me? Why us? Why her?
Everything was fucked. FUCKED.