Home > The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker #8)(20)

The Rocker Who Cherishes Me (The Rocker #8)(20)
Author: Terri Anne Browning

“You can’t make me go back to Tennessee.” I stood so that he wasn’t towering over me. Not that it really mattered. Wroth was so tall that he easily stood a foot taller than me. My head barely reached his shoulders. “You don’t own me, and I sure as hell am not your responsibility. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.”

“You’re right.” His eyes darkened and he lowered his head until we were on eye level. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But I can have Emmie keep you from going on tour with us. And then Liam will worry about you being in the city all alone, and we both know that you won’t let him worry about you. So you will end up at the farm where he knows you will be okay.”

I pushed him away, making him step back since I’d caught him off guard. “You are such a dick,” I snapped. But I didn’t argue with him further. He was right. If he wanted me off this tour he would make Emmie kick me off, and I wasn’t going to put my brother through three months of constantly worrying about me being safe in New York. So I’d end up in Tennessee.

I didn’t want to go near the farm. It was no longer my home, but a place where my broken dreams were now buried. For so long I’d dreamed of growing old on that farm, of being Wroth’s wife and raising a family there.

So I would have to grit my teeth and stay on this bus. Hopefully I wouldn’t give in to the pain that was slowly destroying my sanity…

Wroth

As soon as the door shut behind Natalie, the bus pulled out into traffic behind the first five buses. I sat on the couch glaring sightlessly at one of the flat screens that had the weather channel on, broadcasting the temperature of the city we would be in by later that afternoon.

Marissa hated me.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t already known, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear the words actually leaving her mouth. Fuck, I wished things were different. I wish I’d never tried to push her away last year. I’d known the second I’d done what I’d done that it was a mistake and that I didn’t really want to be without her. In that moment I’d realized that I was losing the best thing in my world. I’d come to terms with all my self-hate and disgust. I’d forgiven myself for the things I’d done while in the marines and even come to terms with the lifestyle I’d led after the band had taken off.

But by then I’d already fucked up and there was no going back from what Marissa had seen. No fixing what I’d done to us. All I’d been able to do was let her walk away, let her have time to forgive me. She hadn’t come close to doing that in the last year, and I seriously doubted she ever would. I deserved that, I knew that I did.

Didn’t mean I was going to give up, though. I was going to get her back and I was going to use this tour to do it. To show her that I was sorry for pushing her away. For so many things. If she would let me, I would spend the rest of my life making up for that night.

“You guys should get some rest,” Natalie said as she dropped her ever present clipboard on the kitchenette table and slid the chair beside Linc. “It’s going to be nothing but rushing once we get there.”

“I’m not going back there until I know Rissa has calmed down,” Liam grumbled as he lifted a cup of coffee to his lips. “Pretty sure she doesn’t like me right now.” His eyes raged at Linc as he set his cup down. “And you—you were just going to let her ride on that fucking bus. You’re supposed to be helping me watch out for my sister, not letting her do crazy shit like that.”

Linc shrugged, obviously not worried about Liam’s displeasure. “She would have been fine. Rhett wouldn’t have let anything happen to her.”

My eyes narrowed on the muscle headed personal trainer, but I remained mute as he and Liam continued to argue about the subject. Liam was right. Linc had been paid generously to be watching out for Marissa. I knew because I was the one lining his pockets with money to guarantee that she was safe. And the fucker hadn’t batted an eye when she had gotten on that bus with all those motherfuckers. Instead he’d actually wanted her to be left alone so that she could ride with Rhett. With fucking Rhett.

Jesus Christ, but I hated that fucker. Hated everything about him, but especially that he and Marissa seemed close now. So close that the damn prick was actually sleeping at Marissa’s apartment. And I fucking hated that I didn’t know if he was sleeping with Marissa or Natalie. I couldn’t have cared less if it was Natalie. Those two could fuck all they wanted for all I cared. But if Rhett was touching my girl…

I popped the knuckles of each hand, envisioning how much pleasure I would take from smashing that damn rocker’s face in. Over. And over. And over.

“Dude, you need to relax,” Zander mumbled from his place beside me on the couch. “You’re seriously going to break your hands and then were the fuck will we be?”

Clenching my hands into fists so that I wouldn’t pop my knuckles anymore, I tried to concentrate on the television by picking up the remote and turning the channel to something other than the weather channel. As long as it wasn’t raining we had perfect reception on the satellite, but I couldn’t find anything to hold my attention for longer than a minute.

“Wroth, if you don’t fucking find a channel and leave it there I’m going to break your fucking hands,” Natalie snapped as she got up and took the remote from me. “I’m about five seconds away from throwing your ass from this moving bus and the damn trip just started. Not exactly the best way to start the tour, asshole.” She flipped through the channels until she found one of the movie channels. It was a freaking documentary on two college football teams and their rivalry.

“Let’s just play a game on the PS4,” I told Zander.

“Dude, you are just asking for her to beat the shit out of you,” Zander snickered, but he got up and turned on the PlayStation.

Tossing me a controller, we sat back and waited for the game to load. Natalie shot us both nasty glares and walked back toward the roosts, muttering to herself. I shot Devlin a hard look. “Your chick is batshit crazy.”

“Fuck, I wish she was still my chick,” he muttered almost to himself. “Don’t talk about her like that, man.”

“True is true,” Zander said with another snicker. “You fuckers all know how to pick ‘em. First it was Gabriella…” Liam flipped him off. He didn’t react well to the sound of Gabriella’s name, and I couldn’t help wondering for the hundredth time why he didn’t just call her and sort out whatever the hell it was that had made him turn his back on her. Was it really because she had broken up with him right before his last stay in rehab? “…then Dallas. Now it’s Nat and I think even Rissa has flipped her lid. Fuck it. Let’s just go ahead and admit that all chicks are batshit crazy.”

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