6. Maddox
SIX
Maddox
Tonight’s show was great, but I can only think about Jen. It’s like she haunts my every waking moment. Like right now, like she always does .
I climb up the steps of our tour bus and sit down on one of the benches at the dinette, dragging my phone out of my pocket. I made the rounds, hit her social media accounts, and saw if she posted anything new while I was on stage for a few hours. After that morning in the alley, I didn’t have another chance to see her before we left on tour. I didn’t want to call her and try to have this much-needed conversation over the phone. I also didn’t want to allow her to hang up on me.
Instead of hanging out, having a drink, playing around, and trying to write some tunes, I’m scrolling through my damn phone, looking at pictures I have taken of us or the ones of her that I have stolen from her social media accounts for the last few months. I am what some would call a pathetic fool.
“Anyone want to play strip poker?”
I look up to see Tyson with his arm wrapped around one of our groupies; oh wait, not just a groupie but Tricia, Beck’s sleazy ex-girlfriend. He sure as hell made an upgrade. She comes around from time to time, trying to hit up on the other band members. She wants to get her picture in a magazine or celebrity gossip show. Beck said not to ban her. I say he’s too nice for his good, but what does he care? He has Glory, and they are so in love it borders on disgusting.
Huxley and Silas, who each have a couple of girls tucked under their arms, climb on behind them.
My phone chimes with a notification, and when I see that Jen has posted something on her page, I can’t open it fast enough. I hope it’s a picture of her.
“What the fuck?” I mumble as I can feel my annoyance heating my cheeks.
Oh, it’s a picture, all right, a picture of Jen and John. Their heads touch as they smile for the camera and clink their wine glasses.
Stop touching my woman!
I don’t care if it is his head and shoulder, it’s too intimate, and I don’t fucking like it. And Jen, fuck, she looks beautiful. She’s wearing a sleeveless black dress; even if I can’t see anything from her torso up, I know this dress like the back of my hand. Zipper on the left side, and when I unzip it and trail my fingers down her bare flesh, she shivers.
He better not be unzipping that damn dress tonight . I respond by hitting the angry emoji. I set my phone on the table and scrub my hand against my trimmed beard. My frustrations with this situation and my inability to have the one conversation I so desperately need to have with her are bringing me to the brink of a meltdown.
Fuck! Who the hell is this guy?
I hit the search engine app on my phone and type in his name. When the results pop up… “Aw hell!” I mumble to myself; the man is a damn billionaire.
Hell. That’s okay. Jen isn’t concerned with money or status. I’m not broke but still, a fucking billionaire. And he was good-looking—the damn bastard.
The noise on the bus grows louder with each passing second, and I’m in no mood to party. I stand up, tucking my phone into my pocket when Tricia walks this way, or is what she is doing considered a saunter? Anyway, she’s treating the aisle in the bus like a catwalk as she makes her way over to me.
“Hey, Madd. How are you?”
Tricia is a beautiful woman, but there’s always been something off about her. Almost like she tries too hard, and I don’t know, something is just off.
“I’m good, Tricia. How about you?”
She closes the distance between us, and I’m caught so off guard that I don’t know what to do when she places her hands on my sides and starts pushing me back to the bedroom. We don’t use this room for anything other than gaming while traveling, and we all have bunks we sleep in.
I grab her wrists. “Hey, now. Getting a little wild tonight, are we, Tricia?” I ask and laugh a little nervously.
I’m trying to make light of the situation. I don’t want to be mean, but I also have no intention of going anywhere with this woman now or in the future. Beck has got to stop being so kind and let us ban her ass from our shows. The other guys need to stop letting her tag along. Because that is what it is. She tags along, and no one wants to be mean to her because she was once Beck’s girl. Personally, I don’t know how Beck hasn’t cussed her ass out by now. She did him dirty.
“You have no idea, Maddox Case! I’m about to show you what Beck gave up.”
Thankfully, Beck comes out of the back behind us and blocks Tricia from pushing me farther down the hall. Hell, I’m only mere steps from the door. This little lady is strong as hell, freakishly so.
“What’s happening, Beck?” I ask, giving him my best, please-fucking-help-me look.
“Just grabbing some chargers and heading to the hotel room. You coming?”
Oh, thank fuck he can read my mind!
“Yeah, I’m ready whenever you are. My charger is right here.” I reach over to my bunk, which is on top, and pull the chord from where it lies coiled up on the bed.
“Hey, Tricia,” Beck says as he walks around her, and she turns her eyes, watching him like a lost puppy dog.
I take that as my cue and bolt around her. I hope none of my other bandmates drink too much and forget just who the hell that woman is.
I want only one woman touching me, and Tricia is definitely not her. I exit the bus with only one woman on my mind and a growing mountain of worry. I’m afraid my window is closing with Jen Haner.