Chapter Eighteen #3
More hands found her, grabbed at her. Remi clenched his fists.
Couldn’t they just leave her be? She obviously wanted to dance by herself.
Why were they so goddamn pushy? He wanted to stomp down there himself.
Stand as bodyguard. He wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t even look; he’d just glare at anyone who came close.
She deserved a break. She deserved to feel good. She—
“She’s fine,” Jillian said, her hands cupping his fists, and he loosened his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself.
He shook his head and snapped out of the daze. What was he thinking? Skye was fine. She was a demon. She could light every single one of those dickbags on fire if she wanted. She didn’t deserve to feel good. She was ruining his life.
Remi refocused on the beautiful woman beside him. He needed a distraction. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Give me a tour of this big, fancy house that isn’t yours.”
She giggled and took his hand. “Okay.”
Liam had already disappeared, and Jillian actually did show him around, which was a little disappointing since he’d meant it more in the show-me-all-the-places-we-can-fuck kind of way.
She introduced him to people, and he tried to smile and chat, but it was all a little uncomfortable.
Everyone already knew him or knew of him.
They were either shy and starstruck or acted like they were his best friend.
A restlessness crept up, along with the same darkness that had been shadowing him earlier.
Jillian must have sensed it. She slipped something into his hand as she excused herself to deal with some girl who was puking in the corner. “On the house,” she whispered.
He squeezed the plastic baggie of powder and stuffed it in his pocket as he smiled, the darkness already receding with the promise of relief in sight.
He looked around, searching for his bandmates. Doing drugs with friends was fun. Doing drugs by yourself was when you had a problem. He spotted West leaning against the counter in the kitchen and talking to some guy who was fingering the mesh of West’s shirt.
Remi stared until West looked up, and then ran a finger under his nose while tilting his head to gesture toward the bathroom.
West nodded and leaned forward to whisper something to the guy he was talking to. The guy pouted as West walked away. Remi followed him into the bathroom.
“There’s going to be rumors that we’re fucking,” West said. “With the way we’re always in the bathroom together.”
Remi laughed. It was typical for the four of them to start the night together, but Liam and Ollie usually disappeared without a trace until the next morning.
“That’ll be good for our image,” Remi said as he portioned out lines on the bathroom sink. “I’m sure there’s already fanfiction about our tour bus just being a giant fuck fest.”
West rolled his eyes. “Probably.” He leaned forward and snorted a line, his voice nasally as he said, “Little do they know. The three of you are too disgusting to get a boner around.”
Remi laughed, then did two lines in a row.
“You know who I think would be more than happy to find out our tour bus was a giant fuck fest?” West said.
“Who?” Remi’s thoughts floated to Skye, and he stiffened. He didn’t want to share Skye with anyone. Even his bandmates.
Wait. No, he didn’t want Skye at all.
“Laurie,” West said.
The bass from the music shook the bathroom walls, almost in the same rhythm as the pounding in Remi’s temples.
He curled his lip. “Fuck Laurie. He didn’t come, did he?”
West nodded. “Yep. Zara, too. They’re outside by the pool with Skye.”
Remi clenched his jaw. “You’re into Laurie. Ollie and Liam want to fuck Zara…” He shook his head. Demons were invading his band.
“You’re one to talk,” West said, shoving his shoulder. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve had enough assholes in my life. I’m sticking to men who won’t fuck with my head.”
Remi pursed his lips and pretended he didn’t know the asshole West was referencing, pretended he wasn’t related to the guy. “Amen.”
“Have you seen Liam and Ollie around?” West asked.
“Nah. Haven’t seen Ollie at all tonight. Liam about an hour ago.”
West shrugged. “Huh, okay, well, I’m heading back out there.”
Remi nodded and pocketed the blow. They left the bathroom.
Remi’s eyes bounced this way and that. He bobbed his head to the music, unable to stop from moving in some way.
The floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the debauchery that was occurring outside.
People were losing their clothes, topless women and sleazy men jumping into the pool.
West sauntered back into the kitchen. He interlaced his fingers with the guy he’d been talking up, who looked ecstatic to be dragged down the hallway with him.
Remi poured himself some liquor and soda, then walked out to the pool.
The back of his neck tingled, but he forced himself to look anywhere other than the corner of the dance floor.
He surveyed the party, watched the orgy that was taking place on the outdoor couches, then got pulled into a conversation with some Tilted Haze fans, the field of his vision never once flickering over.
After he finished his drink, he poured himself another in the kitchen. He needed a cigarette or maybe some more blow. He searched for his bandmates but didn’t see anyone.
Unfortunately, a group of people blocked one of the exits, so he had to look in the direction of the dance floor in order to get out.
Like a magnet finally turned right side up, his gaze zeroed in on her.
There were smoking-hot, topless women, gorgeous people of all genders, filling the dance floor, but Remi couldn’t stop staring at Skye as she danced with Laurie.
Her head was tilted back, resting on his shoulder as he held her from behind. His big hands covered her hips, dangerously low.
Remi traced her body with his eyes, along the line of her neck, to the enticing swell of her breasts, down to the bare skin of her sternum and torso.
She’d changed outfits. The thin scraps of fabric barely covered her.
As she swayed to the music, the flowy dress shifted over her skin.
Remi couldn’t look away, entranced, desperate for… something.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, drinking in the sight, but he jolted as Laurie’s eyes caught his gaze. A slow smirk spread across his face. He kept eye contact as he whispered something into Skye’s ear.
She didn’t open her eyes or even make any reply that Remi could tell. She just turned in Laurie’s arms and reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her hands twisted into his long, straight silver hair. His hands lowered to her ass and squeezed, pulling her against his body.
Remi was breathing heavy. Something hot and tight fisted around his chest and burned into his groin. Blood rushed to his dick, even as his face contorted, fury lighting him up.
He hadn’t realized his grip had been tightening around his cup until his drink sloshed out over the sides and down his hand. The red plastic cup crunched.
“Shit!” He dropped the broken cup and flung out his hand to get the sticky liquor off.
“Hey, baby.” Jillian appeared out of nowhere. She caressed his arm. “Can I get you a new drink?”
Remi grabbed her waist with his clean hand and pulled her in.
He kissed her, hard and fast, rough, and without finesse.
She didn’t seem surprised. She let Remi maul her, and when he pulled back, chest heaving, a dark vengeful anger coursing through him, Jillian only smiled and grabbed the collar of his jacket, just like Skye had done that night in the alleyway.
Skye.
Fuck, he’d never be rid of her. Everywhere he turned, she was there. Messing up his life. Making him miserable. Flaunting her demon friends around to fuck with him and his band.
Maybe this is what his mom had meant when she’d warned him that he’d be punished someday for all the ways he didn’t meet her expectations. Maybe he was already in Hell, and this was the eternal damnation he had to endure for selling his soul.
But if what Laurie said about his bargain was true, if everything was going to crash and burn no matter what he did, then he might as well go down in a blaze of glory.
“You ever been on tour before?” Remi asked.
Jillian just smiled.