Home > Seductive Chaos (Bad Rep #3)(67)

Seductive Chaos (Bad Rep #3)(67)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

“Do you want a medal? How about a sticker? Because you may not have done the deed, but your tongue has still been down a lot of throats. I should know. I’m usually front and center for the entire show.”

Okay, so she had me there.

I folded my hands in front of me in a pleading gesture. “Please, Viv. I don’t want anyone but you. What can I do to make you believe me?”

Vivian shook her head. “It’s hard to have faith in someone who has proven time and time again to not be trustworthy. Not only with me. What about your band? Cole, you’re planning to step out behind their backs as well. What does that say about you? How can I ever be comfortable in a relationship with someone who doesn’t honor his commitments to anyone? Not me, not your friends, not your label, not even your fans.”

I opened my mouth to deny what she was saying. But she was right.

Fuck me, she was right.

“You need to make things right, Cole, if you ever want anything to happen between us. I can’t let myself love someone who hasn’t proven that they deserve my heart.”

We stood there, staring at each other for an endless moment. I wanted to yell that she was wrong. But how could I when every single thing she uttered was the total and honest truth?

I picked up my clothes from the floor and got dressed. “I get it. I’ve got a lot to make up for.”

I started to walk past her when she grabbed my arm. “Don’t do this for me. Or because you want to prove something. Make it right because it’s what you want to do. I understand if the band isn’t your passion anymore. That maybe you need to go do your own thing. Whatever. You still owe it the people who have stood by you to talk to them about what’s in your head.”

I nodded, covering her hand briefly with mine.

“I’ll be back,” I promised. And I meant it. I wouldn’t leave her now.

Vivian gave me a sad smile.

“I hope you will be.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d say when I walked up Garrett’s front porch. I had no idea if this would be some sort of reconciliation or whether it would be the final severing.

But with Vivian’s words swimming around in my head, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.

I thought about knocking. I hadn’t knocked in years. I could hear music from inside, the familiar strains of Fuck Me along with Jordan’s voice.

I turned the doorknob and walked inside. I followed the music to the stairway off the kitchen. The light was on in the basement so I went down the steps.

Maysie was on the couch talking to a girl I recognized as Sophie McMillian from high school. Mitch, Garrett, and Jordan were playing a set I knew all too well.

I sat down on the bottom step and watched them. They didn’t realize I was there until there was a break between songs and Jordan glanced toward me. He put his sticks down. Mitch and Garrett frowned at him.

“What the hell?” Mitch asked.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Jordan said coldly, nodding his head in my direction.

Maysie looked startled. They all did.

“If it isn’t the providential son,” Mitch sneered.

Garrett snorted. “It’s prodigal son, dumbass.”

Mitch puffed up his chest. “Whatever. What are you doing here, Cole?” he asked, setting his bass in the stand.

“I was driving by and heard some f**king amazing music. I wanted to check it out. Had no idea it was a bunch of raging douchebags,” I joked, trying for humor to lessen the tension.

It didn’t really work.

No one smiled. Not even a little.

Tough room.

I stood up and walked over to my mic stand that had been pushed into the corner. I kicked it with my shoe. No one said anything. They weren’t going to make this easy for me.

“Seriously, man. What are you doing here? We all got the impression we wouldn’t see you until Tuesday.”

Tuesday. D-Day. Aka, the day we lost everything to the label.

Unless we could check our baggage at the door. But looking at the closed off faces of my friends, I wasn’t sure that was possible.

“Yeah, well I figured we had shit to talk about before then.”

Garrett nodded, the only friendly face in a less than friendly group.

“Uh, we’ll leave you guys to talk. Come on, Sophie,” Maysie said hurrying up the stairs. The Sophie girl gave Mitch a quick peck on the lips and followed Maysie.

That left me alone in a room with people who weren’t exactly happy to see me.

Jordan came out from behind his drum set to stand in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. At least he wasn’t trying to punch me. I considered that progress.

“So. Talk.”

I wanted to tell Jordan where to shove his f**king attitude. That I wasn’t the only one with the problem. But I figured I could get to that later. Right now was for saying my piece.

“I shouldn’t have played the song. I’m sorry, all right. But there are more issues at hand then me playing a damn song we didn’t all agree on,” I reasoned, proud of how calm I was.

“I think that’s obvious, Cole,” Garrett piped up, putting his guitar back in the case. And then I was standing before my three bandmates. Me versus them. The way it had felt for months now.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m gonna be jumped by the three of you?” I asked lightly.

Jordan and Mitch didn’t say anything but Garrett smirked.

“Why? Are we intimidating you?” Garrett asked.

“Hardly,” I snorted.

“So what issues do you see going on here?” Jordan questioned.

“You’re jealous. Plain and simple,” I stated. Mitch’s face turned red and Jordan clenched his fists, most likely imagining he was planting them in my face.

Garrett groaned. “Why did you have to go there? Things were starting off so well too?” he complained.

“I was getting the attention. The label wanted me to do the press. The interviewers wanted to talk to me. Primal Terror asked me on stage. I get it. I would have been pissed too if one of you was stealing the spotlight. Because that’s what I was doing. I was taking all the glory for myself and saying to f**k with all of you.”

I looked at each of them steadily. “And Jose thinks I can do better on my own. He wants me to get out of my contract with Pirate and sign with Deep Hill Records as a solo artist,” I informed them. Jordan’s eyes got wide and Mitch’s mouth fell open. Garrett’s face was a neutral and impassive as ever, though I could see the tension around his mouth.

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