Chapter 37
chapter
thirty-seven
“I don’t get annoyed. I get even.” – Cyrus
CYRUS
Haven hasn’t stopped glaring at me. Good.
All she has to do is say yes. Yes, she wants me. Yes, she is jealous. Yes, she wants us to work. Yes. Yes. Yes. Simple.
Instead…Haven is determined to keep me at arm’s length. I can see the door slamming in my face as she tries to ignore her feelings. So, right or wrong…I really don’t give a fuck. I’m going to push her until she cracks wide open and doesn’t just submit. No. She needs to admit it outloud.
I used to want Haven to break to bring her pain. Now I want her to break so she sees that we belong together in this fucking mess. I’ve accepted the inevitable. Now it’s her turn.
Is it a dick move to play on her insecurities? Sure. I know it is. Whatever I need to do, I will.
The red glowing lights of the fancy strip club come into view as we pull into the parking lot, and Eren nudges my arm.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He keeps his voice low so only I can hear.
I glance at Haven, and she’s holding her pen like a knife, as if she’s thinking of stabbing me. Knowing her, she just may be. I smirk.
“Nope, but who cares if it works?”
“If what works? Driving Haven to murder is not the best way to repair the shit between you,” Eren says, running his hand through his hair.
“Says who? If she’s willing to kill to keep me, then she really loves me.”
It comes out jokingly, but part of me actually loves the idea. That explains my mental state in a nutshell.
“Um…not if it’s you she kills,” Eren says with a snort.
The bus hisses as it rolls to a stop. The guys file out, and if the rest of them know what I’m up to, they don’t show it or argue against it. We used to hit up a bar or a strip club every night after a concert to unwind. Now the party just moves to the hotel if that’s what we want.
Declan pulls in, and I hear him asking the driver why we stopped instead of heading to the hotel.
Ignoring the commotion outside, my focus is on one person.
“Let’s go,” I order, standing by the table.
“Not a chance.”
“Haven, if you don’t get up and walk in, then I’ll carry you exactly how I did on the stage. You over my shoulder with your ass in the air.”
“Fuck you, Cy.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
She smacks her hand on the table, eyes shining with the volatile emotions bubbling over.
“Ugh…why are you like this? You’re so infuriating.”
“Like what?”
“This? You say one thing, then you set out to hurt me the next. Nothing has changed.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Bullshit,” she fumes, like she’s going to explode.
“Just admit that you love me, that you are jealous, that you want us to work, and we can leave.”
I toss it out for her, gift-wrapped, nice and easy.
But, of course, Haven takes the hard route.
“This will never work.” She glares at me.
“Wrong answer.”
“Ah!” She screams as I grab her arm, yank her out of the seat, and throw her over my shoulder. “What the fuck, you psycho!”
I don’t even care that my joints are burning tonight. This is worth the pain. She is worth all the pain.
“Cy, put me down. Why can’t you just be normal for once?”
“Because you keep fighting what’s between us.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” Haven bites out sarcastically.
The bouncers give me and the security following in my wake a WTF look, but open the door without question. Smoke, alcohol, and a sickeningly sweet, cotton candy body spray scent hit me as I march deeper into the club. The music and whistling get louder with each step.
“Seriously, Cy. I don’t care if you want to come here, just leave me on the bus.”
“Again, wrong fucking answer.”
“For fuck’s sake! Why are you such an asshole?”
She punches my ass, making me laugh.
“That is a conversation over a bottle of wine, or with a therapist. Hell, probably both.”
“You need more than a therapist or a bottle of alcohol can fix,” she growls.
Haven has no idea just how right she is. But there is no turning back now. Project Make-Haven-Admit-She-Loves-Me is already underway.
“You’re right, I need you.”
She doesn’t respond to that, and it only makes me more determined, not less.
The woman guarding the lair of scantily clad pole dancers smiles when she recognizes me. She knows who I am…good, she won’t hassle us. Her cheeks flush, and she checks to make sure her tits are perfectly on display under the sparkly, purple bra. Not that I give a fuck.
“As I live and breathe…Cyrus Vale, in my club.” She fans herself with her hand. “You’re even sexier in person.”
“Thanks.” I smile, but my answer is flat and emotionless as I tiptoe the fine line I’m walking with Haven.
“Can I ask?” She looks at Haven, pointing. With a smirk, I smack Haven hard on the ass.
She jerks in my hold.
“Hey! Fucker, I swear I’m going to kill you. I’m going to smother you in your sleep after I cut your dick off.”
“Keep talking dirty to me, baby, I like it.”
Haven makes a frustrated sound as I turn back to the hostess.
“Don’t mind Haven. This is her love language. She is my social media manager, I’m sure you’ll get lots of promo from tonight. The rest of my band is already here.”
The woman doesn’t even bat an eye while Haven calls me a list of names that is both impressive and creative. In fact, she suddenly looks even more excited as she smiles wide and snaps her fingers.
“That’s where I know them from, I should’ve recognized your bandmates. Well, alright then. Follow me, I’ll take you to the VIP area. Name’s Trina if you need anything.”
She bites her nail and gives me the universal look of a woman willing to suck cock, but that won’t happen.
The guys have already gotten the first round of shots and beers when I drop Haven onto the leather bench. She glares up at me and then tries to bolt, but I grab her and sit with her on my lap.
“Keep fighting, Butterfly, your ass rubbing against my cock is really turning me on.”
My lips graze her ear, and she freezes. Haven is already planning her exit strategy.
“Just sit with us for a bit, and then you can leave.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says. I continue to stare at her. “Fine, but I want to sit on the seat.”
“Are you sure about that?” I buck up under her ass so she can feel how hard she’s making me.
“Yes. I’m sure,” she growls.
“So stubborn.”
Releasing her, she slides off and ends up sitting between Ledger and me. He looks at us and then laughs.
“You two are so fucked up, you make the rest of us look sane,” he says, making the guys laugh.
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, reaching for a shot.
Haven grabs my arm, stopping me.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“It’s one shot.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes sear holes through me as she leans in close. “Do it, and I’ll make sure everyone knows what your doctor said.”
I glare at her. “That’s private information.”
“So was my diary,” she snaps, lifting her eyebrow in challenge.
“Fuck.” I sit back and cross my arms.
“Don’t be a baby, you can still have a soda or something,” she says, evilly.
“Oh yeah, that’s the same thing.”
“Well, I’m not drinking,” she says, like that will make it all better. Oddly, it does help.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Vex pipes up and says before grabbing my shot and downing it himself.
“Fucker,” I mumble.
“I’m just helping you out,” he says, and I want to wipe the smug look off his face as everyone chuckles.
Vex pulls his cigarettes from his pocket. I hold out my hand, but then look at Haven.
“Can I still have a smoke, Mom?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Whatever.” Haven crosses her arms. “Do what you want, you always do anyway,” she mumbles just loud enough that I can hear.
With a nod, I light up and take a drag on the cancer stick. The last vice that my doctors haven’t ordered me not to touch. I don’t smoke all the time, but it helps curb other cravings…I glance at Haven, except for one particularly persistent need.
“Why did you drag me in here anyway?”
Crossing her arms over her band shirt, she glowers at the stage where two girls are putting on a show.
Fuck she looks hot in the ripped shirt with our name splashed across the front. Now all I can picture is her wearing nothing else while I eat her for breakfast.
“Why not? Shouldn’t you have your camera out, filming us or something?”
She makes an, I’m going to kill you, face at me, and just like that, I’m transported back in time to when we used to make faces or throw shit at one another behind our parents’ backs. She has a surprisingly great arm, and I’ve taken a remote to the side of my face more than once.
My heart swells. Haven has always been my home. My normal.
Declan, finally off his call, walks in before Haven can answer my question.
“Fuck, a mob is forming outside,” Declan says, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sits.
“That stunt you pulled tonight may have been spontaneous, but it was brilliant. You two have real chemistry on camera. No one will even suspect that you are engaged to another man, Haven,” Declan says, obviously trying to get a rise out of her.
She doesn’t react, but Declan has managed to piss me off with the mention of the ex whose face I want to pummel. I clench my hand, and my knuckles scream in pain, but I’d still lay the piece of shit out. My heart hammers faster at the thought.
“That’s because she’s not.” I jump in with a growl. “She dumped his sorry, cheating ass.”
Haven’s furious gaze flicks in my direction.
“Thanks for announcing that. Would you like a megaphone? You could do it again, louder this time, and really humiliate me for old times’ sake.”
I open my mouth, but my brain freezes with the cold look in her eyes. Shit.
“Is this true,” Declan asks.
“Yeah, it is. I’m going to the bathroom.” Haven stands up, and I move with her. “I don’t need you to escort me.”
“Okay. Brett, take Haven to the bathroom,” I order and then sit back down. “Oh, and make sure she comes back and doesn’t try to sneak out an exit door or something.”
“You…” she says, mumbling the rest too low for me to hear as she stomps off.
“You’re really pressing your luck,” Eren says, sipping his beer as a group of dancers heads our way. Perfect.
“That’s the point.”
Everyone looks at me and then shakes their heads. But they don’t understand. Haven is in denial. I aim to make her see the truth. The inevitable if you will. That’s all.
“Oh my god, there they are,” a girl screams, and I look over as a pack of women races across the club.
“Shit,” Declan swears, standing and directing Rob into position to stop them.
“Oh my god, oh my god. We love you,” they screech happily. “Can we get a picture? Please, please, please, I’ll give you my firstborn,” the girl at the front begs.
I’ve never understood that saying. Who the hell wants a child as payment? But I smile and look at the guys.
“What do you want to do?”
“I guess a couple photos won’t hurt,” Ledger responds, the rest shrug in agreement.
This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but it works.
“Declan, let them through one at a time for a photo.”
He gives me the death glare, but for once doesn’t argue.
Haven weaves through the crowd, and I watch her over my shoulder while humming our song Demon Boy as the lyrics dance through my head.
In a den full of monsters, I’m the worst in this place
You were always my angel, let me darken that grace
Let me stain all your white, leave no trace of light
I don’t want your salvation—I just want you tonight