Kelsey
Istorm back into the party with Kodiak at my back. It doesn’t take me long to spot that Bronx hasn’t rejoined the main party. He’s probably having one of his own with some pretty little thing who came here with stars in her eyes.
I don’t fucking care. He lied to me. The deal we made...
it wasn’t so my ex could use my emotional turmoil as fodder for his fucking songs.
Does he have any idea how hard it is for me to hear the old songs on the radio?
Coming from people’s headphones? Having to dance to them at the freaking Scarlet?
No, because he isn’t the one that had his entire life turned upside down and inside out.
And he wants to do what? Feed what’s left of my broken persona to the man who is responsible for shattering me? Just so the band can have a new top hit and so Riot can tell the whole world how much he hates me?
“Hang on, Scary Girl.” Kodiak grips my elbow before I can reach for the handle. “You sure you want to burst in there and have this conversation now?”
“Let go of me.” I yank my arm free. I’ve seen Bronx in sexual exploits that would make a hooker blush. I don’t care what he’s doing, we are going to have this conversation. Now.
Shoving open the door, I charge into the room with Kodiak behind me. He turns to shut the door. Framed prints bounce against the wall with the vibration from the music.
I take in the empty room and the standard hotel bed with its luxury sheets. I slept the best I have in a long time in those sheets. And that was despite my run in with Riot and his groupies last night. Ugh. “Bronx!”
Bronx enters the room from the bathroom. Stripped down to his naked eight pack and ink. He’s using a towel to scrub the water out of his hair but hasn’t bothered to use a towel over any other, uh, part of his anatomy. His big cock swings lazily between his thighs.
I slam my eyes shut, heat creeping into my face at catching him nude.
Which is ridiculous when we used to be so entwined.
So much so that I’ve seen him fucking different groupies on multiple occasions.
Only now I know what his tongue feels like on my pussy.
The feel of his weight hovering over me as I kiss him.
No. No, I’m not recalling the details of last night. I’m angry at him. I open my eyes and glare at his co—I lift my chin—his face. “You lied to me.”
His smile droops. “Kels—”
“No.” I jab a finger into his bare chest. “You don’t get to Kels me. I’m not the type to succumb to your wayward charm, Bronx Halverson.”
Water droplets from his hair drip on the back of my hand while he tucks the towel around his hips, securing it and covering his manhood at the same time.
Why the hell is he showering instead of enjoying the party? It would make sense if there was a girl, or a guy, in his bed but there isn’t.
No, I don’t want to know.
He bows his head and gives me a sheepish grin. “You were into my charm last night.”
Hands on my hips, I let out a harsh breath.
He would bring up what we did last night when I succumbed to my loneliness and my spite.
This is exactly why it can’t happen again.
“You told me you were concerned he was heading down the same path as Neil. You told me you needed my help to keep him in line, but you knew that would be impossible. So, tell me, Drummer Boy, what am I really doing here?”
“Damn, I like this chick,” Kodiak says over my shoulder. “Scary Girl, do you always breathe fire like this?”
“When it’s warranted.” I keep my eyes locked on Bronx’s.
“Fine.” Bronx’s gaze breaks away. “He hasn’t written a song in two years. He’s always numbing his shit out with alcohol and drugs. The label isn’t happy. They want us in the studio and working on a new album as soon as we get back from the tour.”
“You thought you could bring me on board as a muse, and it would fix his problems.” Riot’s troubles are numerous and not my responsibility. I have enough issues of my own. Most of which he caused.
“They fucking replaced Neil.” His face sags. He gestures with an open hand. “He needed L.A. Riot. He was getting better. And they kicked him out.”
A multitude of grief squeezes around my heart; a steel band that crushes until it’s almost impossible to breathe.
I want to disappear. Never think or feel again. Loss encompasses me. Losing Neil was incredibly hard but losing her... it makes the feeling of loss seem to never stop hurting. My poor, perfect angel.
“They replaced him,” Bronx says bitterly. He makes eye contact with Kodiak over my shoulder. “Sorry, bro. No offense meant. You are one of us now.”
“Some offense taken.” Kodiak’s tone is jovial in comparison to the heaviness Bronx and I are sharing. “The band wouldn’t be the same. Can you imagine? L.A. Riot without Riot? Think they’d make us change our name?”
Bronx and I both roll our eyes at him.
“We’re all replaceable,” Bronx tells me. “Golden, Kodiak, Riot, and me. Even our songs can be written by someone who isn’t L.A. Riot. We have worked too hard to get here to let the label take our future from us.”
“He has a point,” Kodiak says like he’s refereeing a boxing match. “L.A. Riot wouldn’t be L.A. Riot without Riot.”
“When I saw you last night... I took it as a sign.” Sincerity shines in Bronx’s gaze. “And I was right. He wrote a song that our fans are going to love.”
“It probably had nothing to do with me. It could have been a one-off. He could be finally ready to write again.”
“It was about you,” Bronx says.
Fuck. I’d hoped Kodiak would be wrong even though I knew he wouldn’t be.
Not because I’m some kind of manic pixie dream girl of a muse.
No. Because the universe, for some reason, has decided that I need to be punished.
For what? Falling in love with my best friend?
A rockstar? Believing in happiness? No. Not protecting her.
The universe is right. I have penance to pay. But so does Riot. “A song about how much he hates me, right?”
“I won’t lie to you.” Bronx nods. “It’s vicious.”
The hair on the back of my arms and neck stand up like an electric current has passed over them. Staying means opening myself up to an entire album worth of vitriol aimed at me, that will play across the world. Possibly until the end of time.
Leaving means putting myself in harm’s way. Possibly cutting my time on this planet way short if Marco catches up to me. Which he will. Eventually.
Both options are unappealing. Taking a deep breath, I scowl at my now least favorite drummer boy. “You’re going to make this worth my suffering, Bronx.”
“Whatever you want.” He swoops on me. “I’ll even hand over my lucky drumsticks if that’s what it takes.”
“I don’t want your sticks, Drummer Boy.” I splay my palm across his chest to keep him at bay. “I’ll come up with something. But not tonight. I’m tired and I want to sleep.”
“We can kill three birds with one stone.” He gestures at his comfy but unmade bed. “You can sleep in my bed, and I can start to make it up to you with another orgasm or two. It’ll piss Riot right off.”
I snort. “I’m not going to sleep next to you. I’m still angry, Bronx.” But I am going to need a bed. With the party in full swing there’s no way I’m sleeping on the couch. “Kodiak?”
“Scary Girl?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Do you snore?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Do you mind if I take half your bed?”
Exuding confidence he winks at Bronx, who scowls in response. His big hand covers my shoulder. “It’d be my pleasure.”
We leave Bronx and skirt the party, passing by Riot’s room. The door is partially open, giving a view of the entwined bodies on the bed. The air reeks with sex.
The girl is on her back, Riot above her. His chiseled muscles flex every time he fucks into her. Almost as if he senses me, he lifts his head. His gaze locks on me. His gray eyes, dark and flinty.
My breath catches.
He fucks the woman harder, putting his head close to hers so he can make a demand. Sweat glistens on his tanned skin. She digs her nails into his shoulders to hold on as her breathing turns into dirty cries.
My disloyal pussy clenches. Dampens my panties. How fucking dare my body react to the cheating bastard after all this time.
Almost as if he can tell the impact he’s having, his lip curves cruelly before he turns his attention to the woman beneath him.
Kodiak engulfs my hand with his and draws me away. “My room is this way.”