Bossy: An Alpha Collection

by Levine, Nina

  The crowd are going wild, screaming out their suggestions, until, finally, he enlightens them. Squatting on his haunches at the edge of the stage, he shares, “You all know why we’re here tonight, right?” When they nod, he continues, “We’re here to raise money for cancer research so I want all of you to help me with that. We’ve got a donation page set up on our website and here’s the thing… there’s just over fourteen thousand of you here tonight so if everyone donates a buck, that’s some serious coin, yeah?” He holds the mic out encouraging them to yell out their agreement, which they do. Bringing the mic back, he says, “Okay, who’s gonna get their phone out first and make a donation? Show me your phones, people!” He stands back up and begins working the stage, jogging from one end to the other, holding his hand out to touch the fans that hold their hands up.

  Van and I continue playing, and Nate joins us up front and begins playing, too. West has the crowd pumped and I see people everywhere on their phones. I’m hopeful they’re donating, although I realise many are probably just on social media. However, West pulls his phone out and checks our site and gives us the thumbs up with a huge grin. We’ve got a live tracker on the donation page so he can see the money coming in.

  He turns to the crowd and gives them a fist pump. “Fuck yeah, Brisbane, you fucking rock!”

  Hunter kicks in on the drums and Van lets loose on another solo. And then we play our new song for the audience, and they love it. After that, we play our last song and say goodnight to the crowd who we’ve worked into a frenzy. West kept track of the donations and we raised just over ten grand, so we leave the stage, psyched about that.

  The sweat is dripping from me as I pass my guitar to one of the roadies when I head backstage. Presley’s waiting for me with a huge smile on her face. “You kicked ass,” she declares, and I see the desire in her eyes.

  Resisting the urge to pull her close, I lean in and murmur in her ear, “Did that turn you on, baby?”

  Her face is flushed and her breathing has picked up pace. She runs her hand through her hair and nods. “Hell yes,” she says in the breathy tone she uses when I’m about to fuck her, and hell if that doesn’t cause my dick to harden. “We should do this every night.”

  I fucking love the way she says ‘we’, and I can’t stop myself any longer; I push her up against the closest wall and grind my cock against her while slipping a hand up her shirt to find her breast. People rush past us, the beat of the music from the band currently playing surrounds us, and the roar of the audience flows through all of that, but we’re locked in our own bubble. My mind is completely focused on Presley and the pleasure she’s giving me as her hand rubs against my dick, and I kiss her deeply.

  When I end the kiss, I rub my thumb over her swollen lips. Catching her gaze, I say, “We could do this every night if you come on tour with the band.”

  She holds my gaze while silently processing what I’ve said. I silently hope she says yes.

  And then my phone rings, changing everything

  “Hi Mum,” I say as I answer it, still keeping my gaze locked to Presley’s, loving the way she’s started biting her lip.

  “Jett.” Mum’s voice is off, and I’m instantly alert. “Tell me you’re in Brisbane,” she continues, her voice cracking on her last word.

  Fuck.

  I grip the phone harder as my heart starts beating faster in my chest.

  My mother never gets worked up about stuff. She doesn’t panic or worry until it’s absolutely necessary.

  She’s panicking right now.

  I can hear it in her voice.

  “I’m in Brisbane.”

  Presley stills and her expression turns serious as she watches me take this call. She places her hand on my arm and I vaguely realise her touch doesn’t calm me like it usually does.

  The noise surrounding me is suddenly claustrophobic and I push away from Presley and take a step back.

  I need to get out of here.

  “It’s your sister.” My mother says the words I never wanted to ever hear again and my legs almost give way.

  The crowd is too much.

  The noise is oppressive.

  The heat is overwhelming.

  I need to fucking get out of here.

  “What?” I demand as I pull at the top of my t-shirt, urgently needing it off my skin.

  I start walking towards the exit, desperately in need of fresh air and less noise.

  She begins to cry and I know exactly what she’s called to tell me.

  Fury blows through me like a fucking tornado and I want to explode from the anger.

  “Mum, say it.” I try to force the words from her lips, not wanting to hear them, but needing to hear them in case I’m imagining the wrong words.

  “She’s in the hospital,” she starts, and a sob tears through the phone. And then she says the one word I fucking hate the most in this world. The one word I want to obliterate from the English fucking language. “Her cancer is back.”

  “Fuck!” I roar and turn and punch the wall.

  No!

  Mum’s voice is distant through the phone because I’ve blocked everything out. I drop my phone and punch the wall with my other hand.

  This can’t be happening to Claudia again.

  “Jett!” Presley’s voice filters through but I pay no attention. Her hand lands on my back and she calls my name again, “Jett.”

  I turn to face her and find her concerned face staring at me. Waiting for me to tell her what’s going on.

  Waiting for me to say that one fucking word I despise.

  My voice is strangled when I finally speak. “Claudia has cancer again.”

  I stand and stare back at her, the hopelessness bleeding from me.

  Her hand flies to her mouth and she sucks in a breath. “Oh my God,” she exclaims.

  I want to scream, “Where the fuck is your God?” but I don’t. The injustice of this smacks me in the face again and roots me to the spot, unable to form the words, so I simply stare back at her, my arms hanging limply by my side and my body ready to crumble.

  Please don’t let it be true.

  But I know it is.

  “Jett!” West’s voice flows through the air and I wonder where he is. He sounds so close.

  “Jett,” Presley says and gently shakes me.

  And then I hear West again. His voice mingles with Presley’s, and I struggle to discern who is saying what. Their voices echo around me, bouncing off the walls, and I give up trying to understand what they’re saying. They’re obviously not talking to me because their words don’t make any sense.

  Nothing fucking makes sense anymore.

  “Jett!” Van’s hands grip my biceps and his booming voice snaps me to attention.

  I blink and turn my attention to him. “What?”

  “What the fuck has happened?” He shakes me, and his alarmed voice pierces my senses as I process his words.

  I try to speak but my voice catches in my throat.

  He shakes me again, more insistent this time. His wild eyes stare at me while he demands, “Tell me!”

  Time and space stand still and the ringing in my ears stops. I open my mouth and finally tell him, “Claudia is in hospital. With cancer.”

  Van’s body sags and his face twists with anguish. “Fuck.”

  I nod. “Yeah, fuck.”

  Because really, there’s nothing else to say.

  29

  Presley

  Jett leads me through the corridors of the hospital as he stalks to his sister’s room. He took hold of my hand as we exited the car outside the hospital and hasn’t let go since. The grip he’s holding me with screams his need for me at the moment. I wasn’t sure if he’d want me with him here, not having really met his family yet, but he insisted I come with him.

  “Fuck, can they put the fucking cancer ward any further from the entrance?” he grumbles, and I can’t blame him. My legs are weary from the rapid pace we’re walking and the distance we’ve covered
.

  We round a corner and I see the sign that tells us we’ve reached our destination. Jett’s pace falters for a split second, but then he pushes the door open and continues his search for Claudia. His gaze is glued to the room numbers above each door and he doesn’t slow again until he finds the number he’s after.

  Room 9.

  He stops outside the closed door and stares at it. His grip tightens around my hand, and my chest squeezes, knowing how much he’s struggling with this. Finally, he opens the door and steps inside, dragging me with him.

  Claudia is in the bed and turns to look at us. Her hair sticks to her face where she is clammy, her face is pale and she is coughing, but she gives us a small smile. She raises her arm and motions for Jett to come to her at which point he lets my hand go. A moment later, he’s sitting on the side of the bed with his arms wrapped around her and her head buried in his chest. I watch as her back starts to shake and when her sobs and coughs fill the room, my eyes well up.

  Blinking, I take my attention off them from fear I will start sobbing as well. Looking around the room, I take in the vase of flowers on the shelf near the bed. Tulips. I wonder if they’re Claudia’s favourite. My gaze drifts to the armchair in the corner near the bed, under the shelf the flowers are sitting on. It’s stacked high with novels. I guess she loves to read.

  “Presley.” Claudia’s voice drifts across the room and I turn to her.

  Smiling, I take a step towards her outstretched arm. “Hi,” I almost whisper.

  Jett shifts his gaze from her to me, and I gulp back the ache I feel when I see the pain in his eyes.

  Claudia reaches for my hand and I give it to her. She clutches it and says, “Thank you for coming.” Her voice is raspy and full of gratitude, and it almost kills me that she is thanking me for coming when she is clearly so sick.

  Jett’s arm slides around my waist and he moves his leg so he can pull me close to him. The love in this room surrounds me; these two clearly adore each other and keenly feel each other’s pain.

  The door to the room pushes open and we all turn to it. An older man and woman enter and I know instantly they are Jett’s parents. The resemblance is striking. Jett’s father looks almost identical to Jett with the same dark hair, tanned skin and facial features. His mother, however, has the same piercing blue eyes as him. And they are reflecting the same pain I see in Jett’s.

  Jett stands but keeps me close, his arm still around my waist. “Presley, my parents – Monica and Steve,” he introduces us, and they both give me a smile. My heart beats faster in my chest, especially when I realise that even though this family is hurting from their daughter’s diagnosis, it’s abundantly clear they are welcoming their son’s girlfriend with open arms.

  Monica comes to me with a hug, and I can feel the authenticity in it; Jett’s mother is happy to see me. And then Steve is next to me with an outstretched hand. I place mine in his and he says, “It’s lovely to meet you, Presley. Would have been better under different circumstances but we can’t always dictate how life goes, can we?”

  His voice is so much like Jett’s I’m taken aback a little, but I nod and agree, “That’s true. And it’s good to meet you both, too.”

  Jett had let me go when his mother hugged me but he pulls me close again. Looking at Claudia he asks the question I know he doesn’t really want the answer to, but it’s a question he must ask. “What’s the diagnosis?”

  Her eyes close for a moment and the lines around them crinkle a little as she squeezes them shut. When she opens them again, the tears are visible. “I have stage four ovarian cancer.” Her voice catches in her throat, and she visibly fights to not fall apart, but the tears begin flowing down her cheeks and Jett lets me go so he can comfort her.

  I cover my mouth with my hand as tears prick my eyes again.

  Fuck.

  Ovarian cancer.

  A shiver runs down my spine and my legs feel weak.

  The words ‘stage four’ lodge in my brain.

  Fuck.

  Jett runs his hand lovingly over her hair, over and over, and presses his lips to her forehead. They stay like that for a long time and all I can do is watch and fight my own tears. Claudia doesn’t need to see me cry. Her mother is crying while her father holds his wife – I don’t need to add to the heaviness in this room with tears.

  Eventually, Claudia wipes her face and gets herself under control. She pulls away from Jett and says, “I was diagnosed five weeks ago and - ”

  He cuts her off. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands to know. I can see him battle his torment at not being told against his desire to support her through this. I’d be upset too, though, and feel for him. He would have dropped everything to be there for her.

  She shakes her head as if to say ‘don’t give me grief’. “I didn’t tell anyone, Jett. I didn’t want to burden them with this. Again.”

  He moves off the bed, his anger and hurt now clearly visible. Running his hand up and down the back of his neck, he loses his way for a moment and yells, “Burden? You’re not a fucking burden, Claudia!” He sucks in an angry breath. “Fuck!”

  I hold my breath, waiting for him to explode further, but his father steps close and says something in his ear. Jett listens and then nods as his father steps back away. Claudia watches him, her face twisting in pain, and in this moment, I understand her desire to protect her family from all this.

  From the distress of watching a loved one battle a deadly disease.

  A disease they’ve already lived through with her.

  A disease they had prayed would never return.

  Jett sits next to his sister again and takes a deep breath. His chest heaves as he attempts to calm himself. “I’m sorry, Princess,” he says softly, “but you have to know that I want that fucking burden. I don’t want you to have to go through this alone…none of us want that. So promise me you’ll tell us everything from now on, yeah?”

  “I promise,” she whispers.

  He puts his hand to her forehead and says, “You’ve got pneumonia?”

  I can hardly hear her voice when she responds. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters as he scrubs his face.

  Monica moves to the other side of the bed and looks at Jett, the pain flashing in her eyes again. “The chemo’s wearing her immune system down, Jett. You know how this works.”

  “So they’re treating you with chemo? No surgery?” he sounds confused.

  Claudia takes hold of his hand. The look on her face reminds me of the look someone gives you when they are about to prepare you for bad news. “Jett, the cancer has spread so the doctors are trying to shrink it with chemo before they operate. I’ve had two lots of chemo and am scheduled to have at least one more, maybe two, before the surgery.”

  He stares at her in silence. “How long have you been in here?”

  “I was admitted this morning.” She covers her mouth as a coughing fit takes over and when it doesn’t let up easily, she grimaces in pain.

  Jett’s hand moves to her shoulder to try and comfort her but I imagine he feels helpless. There’s nothing any of us can do to take this away from her. “God, how the hell did I not notice you were sick?” he asks.

  When she stops coughing, she answers him. “I did everything I could to avoid you while I was having chemo. I told you I was busy studying, that I was out with friends, anything to not see you . . . and I locked myself away at home and told Mum and Dad I had the flu. None of this is on you, Jett. I concealed it well.”

  “That’s why you were so eager to cancel our trip away.” Understanding dawns on his face.

  She nods. “Yes, that’s the reason.”

  Realisation hits me in the gut. This was why she was a little off when she came to visit me at my home.

  Claudia yawns and Steve joins his wife next to the bed. Looking at Jett, he says, “It’s late and Claudia needs sleep so you should go home.”

  Jett shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says
firmly.

  “Jett, we’re going to be here. We’ll call you if - ” Monica says, but he cuts her off.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Claudia reaches out to her Mum and touches her gently on the arm. “You and Dad have been here all day, so why don’t you go and get some rest while Jett stays. You know he’s not going to leave either way.”

  Monica’s gaze flicks to Jett and she assesses the situation. I can’t even begin to imagine how a parent must feel in this kind of situation. Watching your child battle an illness must be one of the hardest things to go through. And I understand her wanting to stay with her daughter. But in the end, she nods and squeezes Claudia’s hand. “Okay, we’ll go, but only so you two can have some time together. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

  Claudia nods. “Thank you.”

  Monica and Steve say their goodbyes and give everyone a hug, including me, and then leave. As the door closes behind them, I watch Jett and his sister for a moment before saying, “I’m going to go, too.”

  “You don’t have to,” Claudia says. “I know Jett would love you to stay and I don’t mind either way.”

  I give her a smile but shake my head as I move closer to her. “I think it’s important that you two have some privacy. I’m only a phone call away and I’ll come back in the morning, too.”

  The way Jett looks at me as I say this causes butterflies in my stomach. It’s as if he’s gazing at me with a huge amount of love, and I know I must be imagining it, because it’s way too early in our relationship for that. But I also understand that when stuff like this happens that makes you question life, emotions are magnified, so that’s probably why he’s looking at me this way.

  He stands and wraps me in a hug while pressing a kiss to my lips. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

  When he lets me go, I grab his hand and hold it for a moment. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Nodding, he agrees. “See you then.”

  I look at Claudia and smile. “See you tomorrow.”