Jet: An Enemies-to-Lovers Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 2)

by Connie Lafortune

  JET

  Connie Lafortune

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Connie Lafortune

  Introduction

  Envy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Sloth

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Gluttony

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Lust

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Wrath

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Greed

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Pride

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Author’s note

  Jet

  Sinful Seven series (Book #2)

  Connie Lafortune

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.

  Jet

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2021 Connie Lafortune

  www.connielafortune.com

  Cover Design by https://payhip.com/tinaglasneck

  Edited by Peter Gaskin https://reedsy.com/peter-gaskin

  Formatting by M. L. Tompsett www.mltompsett.com

  To each and every one of you, who realize that abuse, hunger and homelessness is not an option, and does something to make it better.

  Acknowledgments

  To my husband, Alan for encouraging me to be the best I can be. Without your support, I’m not sure if I could do what I love every day.

  A big shout out to my girls, Sage, Dawn and Tempi who give me the motivation and the encouragement I need to keep on, keeping on. All of you keep me grounded, sane and passionate about doing what I love and because of that I’m forever grateful. Love you bunches.

  To my editor, Peter Gaskin for polishing my words to make them shine. You’re the star! I’m so thankful we’ve been together since the beginning and I’m hoping you’ll be with me until the end.

  To all of my wonderful readers who consistently keep coming back for more, wanting to get lost in my words. And, for all of you newbie readers who will take a chance on me with this book, or the next. Welcome! You all mean the world to me.

  To my parents—Jeanne and Roland—who are no longer of this Earth but are forever in my heart. I love you both to the moon and back, a trillion times ten.

  To my Lord and Savior for giving me the gift of words so I can in turn share them with others.

  Also By Connie Lafortune

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  Newsletter

  Lucas

  Private Messages

  Bound by Steel

  The Claiming of Callan

  Because of You

  Introduction

  Fourteen years ago...

  Jet

  It was a cold and dreary night in March when I left my dysfunctional family for the very last time.

  My overstuffed backpack weighed me down and left a red welt on my scrawny shoulder. But the pain was so worth it, since I had my old beat-up guitar clutched tightly to my chest. I might have been only thirteen, but I was adamant about anyone taking my music away from me.

  Ever again!

  During the day, I busked on the streets of New York for petty cash. At night, I'd hide in the alleyways just waiting for the restaurants to throw out their nightly trash. Desperate to fill the ache in my empty belly. Years later, when I met Lucas Pipes Knight and The Sinful Seven was conceived, I knew walking away a lifetime ago was the best decision I'd ever made. No matter how difficult my life had become, I didn't let anyone take away the only thing I ever loved. Music!

  Everyone has the potential to be the best they can be. But daydreams are empty promises that fall by the wayside when words are distorted and truths turn into lies. I learned this at a very early age, which toughened my skin but made me independent and gave me the strength to make it on my own. It wasn’t easy, and I wanted to give up.

  Then I remembered a quote by Vince Lombardi. “Winners never quit, and quitters never win.” It forced me to move on even when I wanted to quit.

  Envy

  “Envy comes from people’s ignorance of, or lack of belief in, their own gifts.”

  Jean Vanier

  JET

  Walking into my apartment after several months on the Distraction tour feels irrelevant. Something that should be comforting feels strange. It’s as if my favorite pair of jeans are too tight and suffocating. I’m sure that might sound crazy to some, but it’s the only way I can describe it. Like I don’t belong here anymore.

  After tossing my bags on the floor, I walk through every room and throw open the windows. The clean, crisp air assaults my senses, letting me breathe easier. Now it doesn’t feel as stifling as it did when I first arrived.

  With my hands tucked inside my jeans pockets, I pace around the apartment and take it all in. The colorless walls probably look bare to most—sure, they’re drab and in desperate need of a pop of color. For me, they reflect the person I am deep down inside.

  Detached, uncaring, and dead.

  It’s pathetic that this is the only place in this vast universe that I get to be myself. Not the celebrated rockstar everyone thinks they know, or the bassist for The Sinful Seven, or Lucas’s best friend for that matter. Just Me, and it scares me shitless because I’m not sure about the man who lives inside of this head anymore.

  Too many times to count, I get lost inside of myself and go to an evil place. It’s lonely and somewhere I only visit on occasion, but it burrows beneath my skin, festers there, no matter how many years go by. Doesn’t matter how long, this hell I make for myself is always waiting to tear me apart. Forcing me to question everything I am or ever thought I could be.

  I know it’s late, I’m exhausted, and after spending countless nights sleeping on the bus or sharing a stuffy hotel room with Trevor, tonight I do it my way. The only way I truly know how to feel comfortable and safe. Yeah, I might be a grown-ass man, but until you’ve walked in my shoes, don’t judge.

  Tossing my sleeping bag and pillows on the floor, I hunker down, clothes and all. This, right here, is where I’ll spend the next few days. Once I get my bearings and catch my breath, I’ll unpack, shower, rinse and repeat. For me, nothing is in black and white. There’s a gray area that lives deep inside of my bones that pulls me under and takes me to a faraway place that only exists in my mind. It’s something I
’ve had to learn to live with for a lifetime and I don’t foresee it going away soon. I’ve learned to accept it.

  I have no other choice.

  Staring up at the ceiling, I try to tick off all of the good things that have transpired over the last few months. Beginning with the audition that started it all, and ending when I walked into this empty tomb. Closing my eyes, I focus on the texture of the hardwood floor beneath me, instead of a soft mattress that a million others before me have slept on. Then, I concentrate on the silence around me, calming me in ways that I haven’t experienced in months. Once my breathing slows, I count until I reach one hundred. Only to start over. Again and again.

  I allow my thoughts to wander to Lucas and Abby. Lucas is my best friend and the front-man for The Sinful Seven and Abby’s our business manager. When they first met, he was a sex addict and she was his favorite barista at Java Joe’s. To make a long story short, Lucas is only addicted to Abby now.

  I truly envy them. They both knew what they wanted, and they went after it. In fact, right about now, they’re thousands of miles away on some tropical island soaking up the sun. And each other. I’m happy for them both, it’s well deserved after everything they’ve been through. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt just knowing that I’ll never have that unconditional love with a woman. It wouldn’t be fair to give myself to someone when I’m broken. Damaged goods. Well, some might beg to differ, like Lucas, but he’s the only one who knows the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. Nothing he could say or do would ever change my mind for that matter.

  End of.

  Time to move on.

  After being on the road surrounded by a ton of people, I’m going to bask in solitude, kick back, and just breathe. Don’t get me wrong, the tour’s everything I ever dreamed it would be and then some, but I’m so used to being alone that it was all so overwhelming. And now I have Quinn who’s like a pit bull with a bone about getting me to do her damn interviews. She’s our PR agent and a pain in my ass. I don’t know how many times I’ve refused her requests for an interview but will continue doing so. My fans don’t give a damn about my childhood and where I come from, as long as I show up and give them the best performance I can.

  And believe me, I do.

  Every damn night!

  For the next few weeks I plan on relaxing, writing music, and enjoying some me time. Lord knows, when it’s over it’ll be back on the road and balls to the wall once again. Which means more tour buses, airplanes, and hotels. I suppose it’s a small price to pay since it’s something I desperately wanted my entire life. Still, for someone like me it’s a hard pill to swallow. A catch twenty-two because of the demons that take up residence inside of me.

  I’m not complaining, but it’s been difficult sharing a room with Trevor since my sleeping ritual is off the charts. I’m looking forward to my old habits and routines to give me a sense of peace. Being that I’ve been on my own since I was thirteen, it’s difficult sharing a space with others. It’s a good thing that I love Lucas, Willow, and Trevor like family. Otherwise, it would be difficult at best.

  QUINN

  Being on tour these last few months has been both exhilarating and exhausting. It might have to do with a certain someone who refuses to acknowledge my existence. Well, that might be harsh—Jet knows I exist, but he refuses to speak to me one-on-one. As the band’s PR agent, it’s my job to put out the tiny brush fires before they become a full-on blaze. Destroying everything in their path.

  Which is the number one reason I want to interview all of them myself. God knows—I’ve seen how damaging an interview from the media can be, and I despise how they can twist everything around to make someone out to be something they’re not. It’s the perfect way to end their career before it’s even begun. It’s so frustrating since Lucas, Willow, and Trevor all agreed to do an interview with me, but Jet flat out refused. I’ve said and done everything I can think of to convince him otherwise. I did my damnedest trying to convince him that I have his best interest at heart. And the stubborn ass still refuses to give me the time of day. Well, I sure as hell can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do, but I refuse to post only three interviews when there are four band members. That would clearly be out of place.

  Truth be told, I know enough about each and every one of them. I could write up an interview, answers and all, but I’d like to get it straight from them. Perhaps I’ll call them all in, one-on-one, and do it that way. No pressure, maybe over brunch, asking questions with a few crepes and mimosas to butter them up. Surely, that’s the best way, if I know them at all. I should—I find you get to know a lot about someone when you spend every waking moment with them in a crowded tour bus, airplane, or a jam-packed SUV.

  So, to say I’m looking forward to some alone time would be an understatement. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lucas, Trevor, and Willow like family, but knowing there won’t be any testosterone around for miles is liberating. Thank goodness for Willow and Abby who can calm the boys down quicker than a toddler with a lollipop! I just pray that two weeks will be enough time for everyone to gather their thoughts and jump back into the routine.

  All the bands I’ve worked with in the past never took a break in between. They liked to keep the momentum going, and some have been known to last as long as one year! Morris Music, the company I work for, thought it best to give The Sinful Seven a short break. Especially since they understand that touring is grueling and a new experience for all of them. It can be overwhelming and very hard on their egos. I’m glad we chose this route. Three months on the road, two weeks off, and back on for three more months. Then they can collaborate as a band, put their heads together, and get ready for their next album. We’ll need to toss in a few music videos, too. Their fans loved the YouTube material, so we need to give them more of what they want. That will keep them on the top of the charts until their next album is released and another tour planned.

  Since I’m not in town very often, I plan on visiting my parents as much as I can. It’s tough on them since I’m their only daughter. Growing up, our house was filled with tons of testosterone. I have five brothers—four older and one younger. I could tell you stories about all the fights, and don’t even get me started about them being protective of their little sister. Drew, the baby of our family, just graduated from NYU and decided to travel across the country, staying with each of us a few months before moving permanently to the West Coast. Once he’s there, the lot of us will truly be alone since we are scattered all over. Coming together only once in a blue moon to gather for the holidays. So, I can’t wait to spend some quality time with them and catch up on all the latest family gossip.

  And I can’t forget about my girls, Nina, Traci, and Alisa. I definitely need to make some time to hang out with all of them, too. We always have so much damn fun when we’re all together and we’ve been known to get into a tiny bit of trouble. No worries. All Nina has to do is bat her long dark lashes at some random guy or police officer—yep it’s been known to happen—and everything’s forgiven. That girl should have been an actress instead of a divorce lawyer. Hmm, come to think of it, those two professions do have a lot in common. Acting comes in very handy when you’re in the courtroom fighting for your client. I’ll have to mention that to her next time we get together. I bet she’d get a kick out of my analogy. But today is all mine to do whatever I please. Tomorrow’s another day, or so they say.

  Today I’m going to be soaking up the sun on my back deck while reading a good book. I might even pour myself a glass of wine or two and treat myself to Thai takeout. Why the hell not? After the hell Jet put me through over the last few months, I deserve to cut loose and enjoy all of the little things I’ve been missing out on. Like peace of mind.

  I’m just a simple girl with simple needs, and it’s the little things in life that make me happy.

  JET

  It’s day two and I just crawled out of the shower for the first time. Yeah, not one of my proudest moments,
but necessary. It took me that long to decompress, and now I’m just waiting on some much-needed sustenance currently being delivered by my favorite greasy joint, the Hungry Dog Diner, three blocks from here. I wasn’t ready to face the public just yet, so I’d rather give the dude a tip and pay a delivery fee than go get it myself. Maybe in a few days I’ll feel the need to wander outside, but there’s no rush since in this day and age it’s easy to be a recluse with all this online delivery.

  When I hear a knock on my door, I slide my shirt over my damp skin. I swear the delivery guy can hear my belly rumble from the other side of the door. Unfortunately, when I pull the door open, there’s a woman standing there. Dressed to the nines in her skinny jeans, tank, and heels. Like, what the fuck.

  “Well, thank heavens you’re not dead. I’ve called, texted, and almost dialed 911.” As you probably already guessed, the person glaring at me right now is not from the diner where I’m desperately waiting for my food. Quinn, the pain in my ass, is standing there with her hands on her hips. No, I do not want to invite her inside, but she takes it upon herself to slide between me and the door jamb!