Never Me (TAT: A Rocker Romance #5) Page 8

  I set my napkin down and steeple my fingers waiting.

  She clears her throat and shifts, a tell that says she's nervous. She would suck ass in poker. "Well she told me a very watered down version of your life. I know your dad abused you. I know that Sully is your oldest friend and that your fiancé died tragically in a car accident. All of these culminated into your addiction manifesting repeatedly over the years."

  The pity in her eyes makes me want to vomit. "Look Bright, let me make something clear…" I push my plate back in a failed attempt to give myself space to breathe and get control of this situation. I take a few deep breaths and finish my beer before I can continue calmly. "I hate pity, despise it. I won't have a sponsor who feels bad for me because I will manipulate that shit. Also, that wasn't watered down, it was held under a pool of water until it killed the truth."

  I take a deep breath and tell her what she wants to know. "Our dad worked for Seattle PD, as a Lieutenant. When I was seventeen and Carrie was fourteen I blackmailed him and ran away with fifty bucks in my pocket and an in as an apprentice at a good studio." I pin my eyes on hers. "He raped Carrie, everyday damn near for those fourteen years and forced me to watch. We had no public education, friends, hell we didn't even get warm meals. He forced me to watch as he defiled her again and again and because I would fight he beat me. Beat me daily and threatened and tried multiple times to kill me."

  I stop to start in on another beer and get my heart rate down. She doesn’t know, thank God, that I am dying telling her this. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and it sounds like a fucking kick drum. On the surface I look calm and capable of telling a story I would rather die than tell.

  "Carrie had said that it was one of the worst recorded abuse cases in Washington history?" She asks and I admit I am taken back by how calm she is. Maybe she is the Noah whisperer.

  I nod and stay at the counter, leaning against it and folding my arms. "I invented a game when she was three called Trust me. Over the years that game became a way of life and it taught us to only trust each other. It saved us both from being lunatics."

  I take another drink to gather the courage to tackle another nightmare. "Sully's dad was our fathers partner. Anytime we spent with the Sullivan's was under seriously strict orders to shut the fuck up or watch my sister bleed out before he killed me too. The first time I got high was at Sully's while our dad was golfing with his dad. When he beat me that night it didn't hurt and it made watching my sister get brutally raped easier to handle. After that stopped working I moved on to pills which took all the physical pain away, but did nothing for me mentally. At sixteen I smoked H for the first time and when I was eighteen I was full on the needle. I almost lost everything, our studio apartment, my apprenticeship and the right to supervised guardianship of Carrie. I went through detox and had a few mishaps here and there, but overall I was clean."

  I can see the shock now, the utter disbelief that a story like ours could be real. And I feel that pity in waves. I know how she sees me now and it's for the best. The more disgusted by me that she is the easier it will be to not fuck it all up with my dick.

  "Lastly, yeah she did die tragically. Her name was Candey True. I had proposed to her at Carrie and Chad's wedding not even an hour before, when I pulled over on a two lane highway to get in the backseat and fuck her senseless." I feel that same sorrow as the scene I remember flashes before my eyes every time I tell this story.

  "I saw the headlights in enough time to roll her in a vain attempt to protect her, when I actually put her in the worst position. When the car hit, the impact was so intense that it broke her neck in half and killed her instantly. I woke up, hell… like four or six hours later with tubes down my throat and everything hurt. The drummer of my band, Shamus, confirmed my worst fear and that it was real. I lived on morphine and pain pills for two weeks until I was released. Her body was preserved for those two weeks so that I could attend her funeral. I went home that night and shot up and every chance I could from then on. I slipped into the gates of hell willingly.

  "I pushed everyone away, but mostly Carrie. Now we can barely talk about anything civilly and it's my fault that we are broken. I refused to rely on her or turn to her. She and Candey were soul sisters, best friends. Candey was the first person we trusted on our own and I refuse to share anymore pain with her. Shame was the only person I would talk to until Carrie called Sam in desperation."

  "You and Carrie…? Do you still trust her?" She asks and I don't know how to react to her steel resolve at hearing my tale of woe. She is very much like Jen in how easily she accept what I have shared and does so without forming an opinion. She pities me, no doubt, but God bless her she is trying to hide it.

  "I trust her implicitly, I just can't be around her until I get a better grip on it all." I want to tell her how much I miss her and wish shit was different, but I can't. I can't because I don't trust her and I don't know if I will. See, right now she thinks I have shared all of this in trust. If she had Googled my name she would have got almost all the same info on the world wide web. The only thing I really shared in a test of trust was the early on drug abuse, and that I was in the back of the car fucking Candey. That tidbit, by God's mercy, never made it to the news.

  "Okay, makes sense and I'll respect it. As for everything else…" She shakes her head and I know she wants to say the right thing here. Maybe she will, but I doubt it. I doubt it because there isn't a right thing to say. I'll do what I always do and tell her thank you and act like she helped.

  "Fuck Noah… I got nothing. In fact I am pretty sure I am all around the wrong choice to sponsor you. I can't relate to you on almost anything. I don't know how I can help you but I wish I could… I honestly don't know why they chose me or why you're here thinking I can help."

  I am so shocked that I bust up laughing, probably scaring her. "Holy fuck Bright…" I say and wipe the tears from my eyes, still chuckling. "Thank you Bright. Seriously, thank you."

  "For what?" She asks in total shock.

  "For the truth and not kissing my ass to get the job. I am still hiring you, absolutely. That honesty… God damn, Carrie knew I need that. I swear I thought you were gonna throw me a pity party or do something as equally offensive like cry and hug me."

  She smiles and it is genuine. "I will not try to sugar coat shit. I am a straight shooter and I think you need that. You don't strike me as weak or incapable of seeing the truth. If you want me to be your sponsor, I accept but understand I need your help understanding because I don't know anything about the shoes you're in."

  I will look back on this moment and face what I refuse to face right now, because right now I know damn well I could fall for this chick and right now I refuse to face that shit. "Deal. Consider that your orientation because we hit the road tomorrow."

  I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine

  If you're into evil you're a friend of mine

  See my white light flashing as I split the night

  'Cause if good's on the left,

  Then I'm stickin' to the right

  AC/DC Hells Bells

  Chapter Six

  Week One

  Bright

  The first show is tonight and my nerves are all over the place. I keep looking at Noah and he is so calm and it freaks me out more. I asked Noah to give me ample time to get ready before we leave, but I didn't know he would tell me two minutes before everyone came to our bus to drink beers and relax a few.

  I had always taken my regimen as religion. I love being a girly girl, love my labels and love makeup. He has teased me nonstop while I have been here, hell since agreeing to come on. Here though, in my own space, though small it is where I let myself relax. It takes effort and time to feel beautiful. I know that sounds bitchy but I am who I am. I give my time and money to charities and try to be a good person, but I absolutely am a stuck up bitch. Maybe I was born that way and maybe I wasn't. Either way I'm me.

  Justin Timberlake's Can't stop the feelin
g! Starts and I dance around getting ready when he opens my door without knocking. He stops short though, ignoring my trying to close the door on him and takes in my appearance. Then he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  "What are you doing jerk? Get out!" I yell as I twist the cap off my top coat so I can finish my toes off.

  He just laughs at me and walks around me taking me in like I am his favorite sundae. "Don't call me names, its beneath you." He smacks my ass and laughs when I try and hit him.

  "This is sexual harassment Noah!" I threaten but I swear he is untouchable, nothing riles him.

  "Oh the embarrassment of ass smacking being what takes me down and ruins my name." He mocks and takes a seat on the full size bed in my twenty-by-twenty room. Our bus was different from the other tour bus's we were in an RV that had a partition between us and the driver. One end had four bunks for the security team and the middle was our kitchen and living area. The back held two rooms, his was big and bad ass where mine was small and reasonable. It was a bus and that meant mild in comfort. "I came in to make fun of your bad taste in music, but couldn’t help watching you dance."

  "This is Justin Timberlake, it's not nice to hate someone for being more popular than you." I smile proud of my burn at him and he just laughs.

  "Do you know anything about TAT or our music Bright?" He reaches for his iPhone and starts playing a song. "This is called Crosshair. It's one of the singles of the Fray album."

  I like the beat, it started slow and was mainly bass and drums. I walk over and prop a hand on my hip to watch the video over his shoulder. We are close and he smells so good I want to moan, but don't. My nipples peak as images of him above me play through in fantastic day dream clarity. Thank fuck I have a wonder bra on or there would be no wonder about my RT. I am a sex addict so it isn't a big shock that I think of sex a lot, par for the course, but he makes it so much harder to get through it.

  "Not bad." I say and lean down to get a better view, he doesn’t pull back from my nearness and it does something to me I refuse to acknowledge.

  He scoffs. "Not bad? That is one of the hottest singles out there I'll have you know. Plus, yours truly wrote it." He is so proud yet tried to play it off as fun.

  "Who is this?" I say and point at the lead singer, who… oh holy fuck he is hot.

  "That's Chad, but I like to call him GQ." He shuts the video off and takes my hand in his.

  "What are you doing?" I ask unable to hide the fear of his next move from my tone.

  He rolls his eyes. "Calm down drama queen I'm only holding your hand."

  I roll my eyes back. "Oh thanks for the update Captain Obvious." I pull my hand back from his and cross my arms. "Why?"

  He unfolds my arms, through my struggle to not let him, until my hand is locked in his grip. "Because, they are all here, about twenty feet away and since you haven't really met them its time you do. Stop acting like a four year old about to launch a tantrum, hold my damn hand and come meet my family!"

  He didn't give me an option on fighting him, though I tried. "Noah I am not ready yet, and their first impression of me was lacking."

  "I know, you look like a hobo." He says disgusted.

  "Noooooah!" I wine and slap his arm and pout a true pout that he probably took as flirting because his demeanor changed immediately.

  He eyed every inch in a lazy stroll down my body. "Your jeans are top of the line Rock and Revival, nice choice and they hug every fucking curve perfectly." He stares at my chest in a lust filled haze that made me blush. "Your shirt is who the hell knows but very hot."

  "Excuse me, I am wearing a white Dolce tank top and a Dolce black V neck vest!"

  "That's great." Boredom laced every syllable and I had to laugh. He bends to hand me my black studded Michael Khors Booties. "Wear these they're hot too."

  I laugh and toss them on the bed and look at him once I realize he is trying to make me laugh. "Wet toes." I say in way of explanation for not jumping at his request. Poor sexy rocker probably wasn't used to it.

  "Oh yeah, totally worth making everyone wait." I see his droll stare, knowing he wont stop kidding me until I agree.

  "Fine let's go!" I snarl and look at his confused face. "Sorry, I'm nervous."

  Bright." He says and takes my other hand, much gentler. "You're beautiful, drop dead gorgeous. These people are the absolute best people this world has to offer. You could wear a garbage bag and a face mask and they would love you regardless."

  I roll my eyes but smile. "Thanks, I think."

  I follow him down the hall, squeezing his hand tighter than he was mine and he squeezed it three times to let me know he understood my fear.

  "Everyone, this is Brighton Kellerman, she goes by Bright. She's the sponsor the label hired, that I fired, and then rehired."

  Fuck sometimes I hate him.

  "Hi everyone." I say and hope like hell I don't kill him before this tour was over.

  Noah

  I have to keep myself in check. Hard thing to do when she looks so fucking amazing all the time. She looks scrumptious when she's scared that someone is judging her or that her impression on them is skewed. I feel like hell because I put her in that spot now I was trying to dig her out.

  I hand her a beer and smile knowing she's nervous. I put her on the spot, but in my world its best to get the nerves out of the way from the get go. "I used to puke before every show when we first made it big. Nerves are a pain in the ass, but like all things in life you just gotta get used to the new norm. Feel me?" I ask and she nods, her cheeks still pink from my introduction.

  "So let's see. You know Carrie." Carrie smiles and hugs her. "We won't bite." She says to Bright and rubs her back in a caring way.

  "This is her husband Chad." I say and Chad comes forward to hug her.

  "Oh this is GQ?" She asks on purpose to throw me under the bus.

  Chad laughs and looks at me. "Such a dick bro."

  I laugh and drink from my beer. "You know T." Tay is on her phone so she looks to Bright with an 'I'm sorry' and goes down the hall to finish the call.

  "This is Cal, he is our lead guitarist and Tay's boy toy." I say and he wiggles his eyebrows totally fine being called her play thing. "Welcome Bright. When you need help with Doom N Gloom here let me know. I've kicked his ass before."

  "Oh fuck off with that. I lost that fight because I had demons pulling me down at the time and was high as a kite after already getting the shit kicked out of me."

  Everyone went silent and like usual lately they all looked lost and sad.

  "Good Christ lighten the fuck up." I say and look to Cass.

  "This is Cassa, she is married to this fool here. " I point to Shame who stretches and stands up to shake her hand, one arm around Cass as he does. "Nice to meet you Bright. I'm Shamous the drummer, all around bad ass and hand holder of Beckett."

  They all laugh, that same uncomfortable laugh and I want to punch them all.

  "Jesus you guys are all annoying ya know that? You are aware she knows most my shit right? The junkie card, the abusive childhood card, the 'my girl died tragically' card…Stop being so fuckin morose." That was my cue to book ass out before the pity started.

  "It's nice to meet you all." Bright jumped in after they all looked at me like I had two heads. I just shook my head and grabbed my jacket.

  "I'm headed over to jam on my bass for a few so whoever needs to babysit until her manicure is set, lets boot." I pause but decide I wont shut my trap. Day one and it's the poor Noah show. "You know guys drive me bug fuck!"

  I don't wait for Bright who has yet to get her shoes on, and I don't know who is gonna follow after me in her stead. I don't care. I am tired of the bullshit eggshell walk they are all doing.

  I need them to stop treating me like I'm blown glass about to break. I am Noah fucking Beckett, I am tough as nails, but somehow they forget that.

  I walked into the red room as we called it. It’s the same as the green room but without the fans. I needed
to get my head straight before I went to the green room to play rock God.

  I grab my bass and strum it mindlessly, whatever the tune is to my mood and light a smoke. I hated going on when I was in a mood. It effected us all and the crowd could catch the vibe. Shows were exhausting, but fun. I would jam, headbang and play side by side with Cal and Chad. We had chemestry the four of us, and trust. I need to remember they took the pain in while I was high. I can't blame their fear.

  I see Shame walk in out of the corner of my eye but say nothing to him and keep strumming. I should have known he would volunteer to head over. He's the only one who doesn’t pity or play me.

  We sit like this, me playing him watching for about ten minutes until he starts to beat his drum sticks on the arm of the chair, and the table in front of me.

  I look up when I realize he is on the same beat, following me in sync. Not the best tune, a bass and drum sticks on furniture, but I like it all the same and it soothes me.

  "Everyone is just scared dude. You need to remember when you were high we were watching. It's hard for us to laugh about it just yet, if ever."

  I nod and take a drag, still strumming while he keeps drumming. "I know, but at some point you guys gotta let me breathe and cope how I need to. You forget I was sober for years and now because Candey died and I relapse…" I shake my head knowing their fear and knowing my annoyance for it. "I am me and always have been. I make no excuses and don't bitch about it, it just is."

  He nods now and that's that. I get their concern but in turn they need to see mine. We keep playing when Cal and Chad show up, sans the girls and I know they are in the green room dialing up on the fangirls and making bets of who will go at who.

  Twisted life we lead.

  Chad and Cal both grab guitars and pick up on our beat, Cal pitching in high with his lead skills and damn this song it kinda bad ass. Cal stops a second and hits record on his phone and we have put him into work mode. We play a little longer, none of us saying anything and when the lazy and kind of sad tune turns into Hells Bells we all start laughing and Chad starts screaming, 'I'm rollin' thunder and pourin' rain…'