Bossy: An Alpha Collection

by Levine, Nina

  That’s it. I’ve had enough.

  I stand and ditch the microphone attached to my shirt. “I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. You’ve come in here with an agenda and you haven’t even taken the time to listen to what we’ve had to say, so as far as I’m concerned, you can go - ”

  Tom steps into the interview and cuts me off before I can tell her where to go. “I think we’ll have to cut the interview there,” he says. I don’t hear what he says after that because I’ve already left the room by the time he gets those words out.

  I stalk down the hallway to the lift and jab the button for it to let me in. We’ve got two more interviews scheduled for today, but I’m bailing on them.

  “Jett!” West calls out as he jogs toward me. “Wait up.”

  “I’m sorry, man, but I couldn’t sit through that woman any longer. She had no intention of listening to anything you or any of us had to say.”

  “I agree, but Tom’s pissed off.”

  “Fuck it, Tom will just have to deal.”

  Tom catches up to us, a shitty look on his face. “No, you’re the one who has to deal,” he directs at me.

  I give him my full attention. “I’m beginning to think coming here and doing all these interviews was a bad idea.”

  He shakes his head and jabs his finger in the air at me. “No, it wasn’t. The bad idea was obviously you hooking up with a woman because you coped a lot fucking better with being away from home when you weren’t pussy whipped, my friend.”

  My fury at the whole situation takes over. Stepping forward, I get in his face. “Did you ever stop to think my problem might be the fact that one of my best friends has been accused of something he didn’t fucking do, and now the world thinks they have the right to lump us all in as fucking criminals who think it’s okay to disrespect women?”

  Tom takes a long breath. “I understand that, Jett, but I’m looking at this from another perspective and what I’m seeing is not only your frustration at what is happening, but also your inexperience dealing with being away from someone who means a lot to you. And I’m here to tell you, that is something you are going to have to learn to deal with if Presley is someone you want in your life. Hell, you’re planning on a tour later this year that is going to last for more than six months – you’re going to be away from her for a long stretch of time so you’re going to have to figure out how to cope with that.”

  I listen to everything he says and then I turn around and punch the wall. “Fucking hell!” Needing space, I stalk back down the hallway to the stairs and make my way down ten flights of stairs. When I reach the ground floor, I push the door open and find myself in the lobby. A lobby full of fucking reporters who’ve obviously been waiting to catch us.

  Not my brightest fucking move.

  They see me and rush my way. The only thought I have is that I have to escape and a taxi outside seems like the best way to do that so I head in that direction.

  “Jett, what do you have to say to the rape allegations?”

  “Jett, why would West rape a woman when he can have any woman he wants?”

  “Jett, is it true other members of your band have also raped women?”

  They throw question after question at me, each one getting more and more ridiculous and at the last question, I stop and stare at the reporter I think asked it. “What the fuck did you just ask me?”

  Excitement flashes in his eyes and I should realise he’s goading me, but I’m too angry to put it all together. “I asked if it’s true other members of Crave have also raped women?”

  My mind explodes in colour.

  Red.

  Black.

  White.

  Anger like I’ve never known in my life shatters all around me. My body is alight with it, and I want to hurt whoever is the cause. Unable to control myself, I punch the reporter. I punch him so hard, he collapses, and blood goes everywhere. Momentarily, I wonder if I’ve broken a bone in my hand because the pain shooting through it is excruciating, but I don’t let that stop me. I bend over the reporter, and thunder, “If you ever fucking ask me something like that again, I’ll do more than break your fucking nose.” Without waiting for his response, I stalk out of the hotel and into a waiting taxi. “Take me to the closest bar,” I bark and settle back into the seat.

  What a colossal fuck-up today has been.

  And then Presley calls, and what sanity I have left goes to hell in a hand basket.

  20

  Presley

  Oh God, I should not have drunk all those cocktails last night. My head kills, my stomach is rolling and every muscle in my body aches because not only did we drink, we also danced most of the night away. I crawl out of bed and head straight for the bathroom because I’m sure I am going to vomit, however nothing comes up so I make my way to the kitchen in search of headache tablets. And as I walk past the fridge and see the photo of Jett and me on it, I have a vague recollection I was talking to him last night.

  Shit, I was. And I’m fairly certain I promised to call him when I woke up. I stumble back into my room to find my phone, clutching my stomach as I go.

  He answers on the second ring. “Hi.” Uh oh, he sounds shitty.

  I rush to get the words out but my brain hasn’t woken up properly yet and I stumble all over them. “Jett, I’m sorry about last night on the phone . . . sorry I was so drunk, oh God, I think I’m gonna vomit.” I rush into the bathroom and throw up before sinking to the floor and feeling sorry for myself. And then I remember I’ve got Jett on the phone and put it back to my ear. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.” His voice is harsh but when he speaks again, it’s softened a tiny bit. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I feel awful. I shouldn’t have drunk that much last night.”

  He’s silent for a beat and then his voice is harsh again. “No, you shouldn’t have. And you really shouldn’t have hung up on me. I’ve been going out of my fucking mind worrying about you.”

  Goodness, he’s really angry with me. “I’m sorry I hung up on you. I think I was worried you’d be late for your interviews.” The conversation is slowly coming back to me and I remember something about interviews he had to attend today.

  “And who were you out with?” he demands to know, still in that harsh voice I’m beginning to hate.

  “I was out with Erin.”

  “You said something about being with some lawyers. Who were they?”

  My mind sorts through my memories, trying hard to remember these lawyers. “Oh them, they were just some guys we were talking to. I was actually trying to hook Erin up with one of them.”

  He’s quiet again, and I’m not sure what I hate more – his harsh voice or his silence. I’m beginning to regret making this call. Eventually, he speaks. “I don’t like you being out so drunk with men you don’t know.”

  I suck in a breath. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I say in disbelief.

  “I’m not fucking kidding, Presley. I was worried sick about you, not knowing if you got home safe and worrying who those guys were and what they could be doing to you while you were off your face. I’m a fucking country away, and I felt useless.”

  “Jett, I’ve been out drunk many times in my life before I met you, and I managed to survive all of those times.”

  He mutters something I can’t understand before saying, “Jesus, why do you have to argue with me on this? I just want to know you’re home safe while I’m away. Is that too much to fucking ask?”

  I know he’s probably tired with jet lag, and I try not to get upset at the way he’s bossing me around, but I can’t stop the feelings bubbling up. “I know you want me home safe but I don’t like being told what to do. If I want to go out drinking with my friend, that’s exactly what I’m gonna go and do.”

  “Fuck, this isn’t getting us anywhere, and I’m not in the mood to keep arguing back and forth. I’ll talk to you later.” With that he hangs up and I’m left staring at my phone, not really kno
wing what the hell just happened.

  And then I vomit again.

  Oh God, this is going to be a bad day.

  A couple of hours later, I’ve got myself together and am sitting on my couch drinking my fifth glass of water for the day when I have an unexpected visitor.

  “Hi, I’m Claudia, Jett’s sister,” the pretty brunette at my door says, a beautiful smile on her face; a smile I don’t think anyone could say no to.

  “Hi.” I’m not really sure why she’s here so I wait for her to say more.

  “I spoke to Jett earlier today and he asked me to drop by and make sure you were alright.”

  “Oh, okay.” God, I’m stuttering like an idiot, and I want to say more, but I know it’ll come out all wrong so I say nothing else and wait for her to speak again.

  Her smile grows and she gives me a sympathetic look. Taking a step inside, she says, “Are you feeling sick? Jett mentioned you’d had a lot to drink. Have you been drinking lots of water?” Her voice trails off as she walks down my hallway towards the kitchen.

  I shut the door and follow her in. She’s moving fast and I’m in no state to keep up so I take my time and when I find her, she’s pulled ice cubes out of the freezer and has them in a cup. Passing it to me, she suggests, “Suck on these so you can keep your water intake up.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I take the cup from her.

  “Is there anything you want me to go out and get for you?”

  I stare at her. “Are you sure you’re Jett’s sister? He was pretty mad at me when I spoke to him so I’m not sure I believe you two are related.”

  She laughs. “Yes, I’m definitely his sister. His only sister.” She frowns at me. “You must have spoken to him after me. I talked with him at about four this morning and he was in a state, worried about you.”

  “Shit . . . yeah, I spoke with him after that and he was really pissed off with me.”

  She’s still frowning. “I wonder if something happened to put him in a bad mood because honestly, he was just really worried about you earlier.”

  Regret hits me; maybe I misunderstood his intentions on the phone. I place my elbows on the kitchen counter and drop my head into my hands. “I’m such a bitch.”

  Claudia moves so she can rub my back. “I’m sure you’re not. I can’t imagine Jett would date a woman who is a bitch.”

  I look up at her. “I argued with him on the phone and told him not to try and boss me around. And now I’m not so sure he was trying to boss me around. I think I took what he said the wrong way.” My stomach is ill again; this time from wanting to get to Jett so I can explain and say I’m sorry. I reach for my phone to call him, but he doesn’t answer. I try three times and each time it just goes to voicemail. I leave him a message to call me back and then look at Claudia. “I don’t understand why he and I are having such a hard time with this relationship. When we first met and got to know each other, it was perfect and fun. Now all we seem to do is argue.” My heart is heavy over this. I’ve gone from not wanting a relationship to desperate to make it work.

  “I don’t know where you’re coming from in all this but I can tell you Jett’s not used to having someone else to factor into his life and his decisions. He’s also not used to caring so much about a woman, and if I know him as well as I think I know him, he probably doesn’t want to share you.”

  “Yes! He’s suddenly gone all territorial over me. It seems so out of character from the Jett I first met.”

  She doesn’t seem surprised. “No, it’s not out of character for him. I remember when he had a girlfriend in high school, he was always jealous of any guy who so much as looked at her. He’s probably forgotten that because it was so long ago, but there’s been other times in our lives where his jealous streak has come out so he definitely has that in him.”

  I stare at her as she gives me information I don’t really want to hear. “So can you tell me how to fix this?”

  “That’s something only Jett can fix, but you may have to help him with it.” She studies me for a moment before asking, “How much do you want this relationship with my brother?”

  “I want it. More than any relationship I’ve ever wanted.”

  She listens and mulls that over for a minute. “You’re going to need a lot of patience then. Jett projects this image of having everything in his life together and under control but underneath all that he’s as vulnerable as they come. He loves hard and when he loves you, you’re everything to him and he would do anything for you, but that comes with a price – he wants you to let him protect you.”

  “I don’t mind him protecting me, I just can’t cope with the jealousy.”

  Claudia gives me the kind of smile that says I’m missing something here and she’s sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Sighing, she says, “You may not escape it, Presley. That’s part of Jett’s way of protecting you. In a roundabout way, of course.”

  She’s lost me now. “I don’t get it.”

  “When I was sick, he took it hard. Our parents were amazing throughout it all, but they were struggling to make ends meet to pay for my healthcare so Jett took it upon himself to be there for me at all times. I guess you could say he kinda took ownership of me, if that makes any sense. He didn’t want to face the possibility of me dying, so he focused all his energy on getting me well again. Then when I did get better, he struggled to let me go. He wanted to keep me wrapped in cotton wool so I could never get hurt again. And sharing me was a big part of that struggle for him. I had to learn how to handle him; how to let him believe he had some control over my security because it’s not really that he doesn’t want to share us, he just wants to know that all is right in his world and all is right with the ones he loves.” She takes a breath and I notice the tears in her eyes. Leaning toward me, she says more, this time a little choked up. “He just doesn’t want to lose us. And that’s probably why his jealousy has reared its ugly head.”

  It’s like a light bulb moment and I get it. I get where Jett is coming from. And at the same time, my heart breaks a little for him that this is how he’s learnt to live his life; that the illness his sister suffered from when they were kids has shaped him this way.

  Taking her hand, I squeeze it and smile at her through my own tears. She smiles back at me through her tears too. “Thank you for coming here and sharing that with me. It’s really helped me understand Jett.”

  Her smile falters and her eyes turn sad for a moment. Just when I think she’s about to start crying, though, she runs her fingers through her hair and regains her composure. “I’m glad I could help. Seeing Jett happy and in love is the one thing I want to see before . . . well, it’s the one thing I really want to see, and I hope that can be with you because I’ve never seen him happier.”

  Something weird just happened, and I’m not sure what it was, but I don’t have time to analyse it because Claudia grabs her bag and says, “Okay, I have to go now, but it was so good to finally meet you after hearing so much about you from Jett.” She’s gone from sad and teary to overly bubbly in less than a minute, and it feels like she can’t get away from me fast enough.

  I follow her outside and say, “It was great to meet you, too. We’ll have to have dinner when Jett gets home.”

  “I’d love that.”

  I watch her head towards the lift on my level and wonder if I said something to make her leave in such a rush. She was so lovely and seemed like the kind of person I could sit and talk with for hours so I’m a little disappointed she left so soon.

  I close my door and go back inside.

  And I wait for Jett to call back so I can fix this mess I’ve made.

  Jett doesn’t call me back, however I do receive a phone call. From Lennon.

  “Did you see the news about your boyfriend?” His words are slightly slurred and full of nastiness.

  “Lennon, go away, I don’t want to see you or hear from you. Can you not understand that?”

  “Oh, I got that message, babe, loud and fuc
king clear the last time you fucking told me, but I just wanted to make sure you knew the new guy you’re all fucking wrapped up in is no better than what you think I am.”

  God, how could I have ever thought I loved this man? The venom in his words sting, but not because of what he is saying but rather because I wish I’d never let him be a part of me. “Jett is so much better than you and nothing you tell me can make me change my mind.”

  His laugh is full of sarcasm when he replies, “Well, maybe you should check the news, baby, because it seems your man has gone off the rails. Turns out he’s a pig who doesn’t respect women and likes to punch people. So much better than me.”

  I don’t give him another moment of my time. Ending the call, I grab my iPad and search for the news he’s talking about.

  “Lead Singer of Crave Goes On An Alcohol Fuelled Bender – Assaults Reporter”

  “Jett Vaughn’s Hatred of Women”

  “Jett & West Take Whatever They Want From Women Around The World”

  My hand flies to my mouth in shock. Where is this all coming from?

  Scrambling for my phone, I dial Jett’s number again, and am frustrated when I can’t get through to him, again.

  I hate being so far away from him.

  I have no idea what’s happened, but I suspect most of these allegations are rubbish.

  And then I decide.

  I can’t let Jett go through this alone.

  21

  Jett

  “How the fuck did you manage to cause such a shit storm in such a short amount of time?”

  I stare at the rep from our band’s label and wonder the same fucking thing. Shaking my head, I answer, “I have no fucking idea.” The news has gone crazy with stories from yesterday; stories that mostly aren’t true. And I don’t know how the hell we are going to even begin to fix all this.