Jet: An Enemies-to-Lovers Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 2)
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Grabbing one of Willow’s hands, I pull her around until she’s sitting in my lap. No, I’m not a big fan of PDA, but if not for this girl right here, I’d have stormed out of this room. “I’m glad to know that I have one person who has my back,” I say. “Tell Caleb it’s a go, but I want to be in the loop since it’s my baby. Got it?”
Quinn hates it when she’s not in control, but she relents. “Loud and clear.”
QUINN
Willow and Jet left hand-in-hand right after they agreed to Caleb’s conditions. I can’t figure out if I’m pissed because they were together or because he said to keep him in the loop since it was his baby and had the balls to walk out the door! It didn’t seem to bother anyone else, but I’m sure it’s because they’re used to it. Me, not so much, but it’s none of my business so I pretended like it was no big deal.
The four of us stayed and ate a ton of food while putting our heads together to do some plotting and planning. Now I’m emailing Caleb with all the details. We’ll see if he agrees to our suggestions. I’ve no doubt he will, since PR is what I do best. Besides, he’s always trusted my judgment in the past.
I’m still fuming that the two of them left. It’s not like I didn’t know they slept together since Willow mentioned it to me before. But it was all the proof I needed that he’s no more interested in me than I am in him. I guess knowing and practically seeing it are two different things. I know they have an open relationship, I’ve seen them all take off with groupies a time or two after a show. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m used to the whole sex, drugs, and rock and roll stigma. But, I must admit, The Sinful Seven is certainly different than any other rock band I’ve ever worked with in the past. Other than Jet’s dreadful attitude, they’re a breath of fresh air.
After my last relationship failed, I made a vow to never get involved with another rockstar. Everyone warned me that Zander Stone was too much for me to handle and I didn’t listen. Too blinded by love to see the truth when it was right there in front of me. Did he ever love me? Maybe, but if he did it was short-lived and fleeting. The sexy front man for Rebel Riot left a hole in my heart that will never heal. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that mixing business with pleasure was a fiasco in the making. It lasted for a year and once the tour was over, so was my marriage. Now all I have to show for it is a broken heart and divorce papers to match. Yeah, we were stupid and eloped on a whim and that’s when things started falling apart.
Wow, how did that happen? One minute I’m stewing about Willow and Jet and the next I’m comparing them to my failed relationship. As far as I know, they’re just friends with benefits. I suppose that’s not a bad thing considering they trust each other completely.
Since we’ll be leaving on Sunday, which is only four days away, I need to concentrate on the rest of the tour. I’ve been so preoccupied with the benefit concerts that I’ve put everything else on the back burner. No more, time is ticking and there’s a ton of things I need to do and one of them is going to my parents tonight for dinner. It will be the last time we’re together for, well, too long since adding that extra month on the tour will be four months in total. I’m tired just thinking about it, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was excited.
After stuffing myself earlier today, the last thing I want is to eat a big meal. I’d be happy with a few glasses of wine paired with a charcuterie board. Which is the reason I texted my mom to let her know. This is how that went.
Me: Had a meeting today and I pigged out. I hope you’re not making a ton of food.
Mom: Dad’s cooking steaks on the grill and we’re having baked potatoes with a side salad. Eat whatever you can and take the rest home with you?
Me: I’m leaving in a few days but I suppose that would work. Okay, see you in a bit.
What she’s not saying in so many words is he cooked enough to feed an army, which he always does. If that’s the case, they’ll be eating leftovers for the rest of the week. My brother is a bottomless pit, but he’s not a big fan of reheating food so there’s that.
Before leaving, I send over the confirmation email for the band’s photoshoot tomorrow. I had everything set to go when Jet and I first discussed the benefit concerts. Once Caleb gave me the go ahead, I called to let them know we’re ready. Lucky for us, they had a cancellation for tomorrow. This works out perfectly since we’ll be leaving soon. Now, if Jet and Lucas can behave, we’ll get through it. Sometimes they can butt heads, but at the end of the day, it all works out.
I love how my mom always meets me outside whenever I come over. It’s a tradition that we’ve been following ever since I graduated from college. She claims it’s the only time we get a chance to chat since my dad monopolizes the conversation. Not true, but I indulge her because she’s the best mother in the whole world.
“Hey mom. I can smell that steak all the way out here. Delish.” She reaches out with her arms extended as if she hasn’t seen me in years. I fall right into them and I’m immediately engulfed in love and warmth. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Jet doesn’t have anyone to hold him like this and my tears threaten to fall.
“If you start crying, sweet girl, then I’m going to follow. What’s wrong?” I refuse to discuss anything personal about my clients with my family so I shrug it off.
“I’m going to miss having Thanksgiving and Christmas with you guys this year.” I pulled that off the top of my head but now I’m really sad just thinking about it.
“Do you like your job, Quinn? If you answered yes, then that makes all your sacrifices worthwhile. You’re a smart girl, and Dad and I are proud of the career you’ve built for yourself. Holidays are all about family. We can get together when you come home. All we want is for you to be happy. It’s all we want for any of our children.”
“I do love my job, Mom. Working with a bunch of egotistical rockstars isn’t the easiest, but I have a good bunch this time around. Promise.”
“I know you like to keep your professional life private, I understand, but after what happened last time, well, I worry about you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt again.” Ah, she’s referring to Zander but refuses to speak his name.
I’m saved by my dad when he yells, “Dinner’s ready, stop meddling!”
12
JET
The crowd is wild, and my heart’s beating to the rhythm of the mob. Security is crazy as we exit the limo, the scene tight and cramped. Not even a piece of paper would fit between us. With our heads down and the fans screaming, we do the best we can to rush the short distance between the car and the entrance. The screaming is relentless, but when someone shouts, “Jethro,” it stops me mid-stride. Impossible. There’s no way I could have picked out a random name from this screaming frenzy. I continue my way forward, and just when I’m about to walk through the double doors, I hear it again. “Jethro!”
One glance from Lucas and I think maybe, just maybe he heard it too. We don’t have time to investigate so we keep on walking. I’ve no doubt I’m as white as a ghost. That’s to be expected when you hear a voice that’s been haunting you for over thirteen years.
My legs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds as we make our way backstage. This was not my idea, but the illustrious Quinn wanted us to do a photoshoot for the benefit concerts, so here we are. I have no idea how the press found out about it. Apparently there’s a snitch somewhere in this building.
We’re led into a room with four chairs and makeup artists ready to go to town. Great, I love looking like a clown.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Now that’s a loaded question.
“A bottle of Jack would be great,” Lucas snickers. We both laugh like a bunch of teenagers. Wasn’t meant to be funny, but sure as hell came off that way.
“I can offer you coffee, tea, soda or water but that’s all we have.” We all decline since we want to get the hell outta here as soon as possible.
One long and boring hour later, we’re positioned in front of a blue s
creen. Apparently they can stick a pic in the background of any city they want. Which will happen when we play in that city. It was Quinn’s idea, one of her better ones.
They take a zillion pictures of the whole band, then individual ones. Then some of just me and Lucas, the list goes on and on. Four grueling hours later we’re being escorted out the door. All I want is a cold beer and to wash this shit off my face.
As we rush back to our limo, I’m dead last. The crowd has thinned out and security is grateful. I’m halfway to the limo when someone screams loud enough to be heard over the crowd. “Jethro, it’s been too long.” I bump right into Lucas as he scans the crowd. This time, I know he heard it too.
Turning around, he gets in my face. “Get in the fucking limo. Now!” I don’t have a chance to tell him he has a better chance of seeing god.
Security’s not happy when I break the line and stalk towards the crowd. Funny how they’re screaming in their little walkie-talkies as I scan the crowd. I’m oblivious to what’s going on around me as I look from left to right. I’m focused on one thing and one thing only.
Him. If he’s here, I want to see the fucker.
“Jet, get in the limo, now.” Oh, now Quinn, my boss, wants to take control again. She makes the biggest mistake she can when she grabs my arm. I lose my fucking shit.
I’m ready to jump over the damn barrier when I see him. How I can pick him out of a crowd this size is beyond me, but I do. The years haven’t been good to him, but when you’re a filthy sinner, they never are.
Instead of getting lost in the crowd, he slowly walks over to where I’m standing. No fear and no shame. The only difference is now I’m not a child but a man. Doesn’t mean my heart isn’t erratic and my palms sweating, but I’ve been waiting for this day for forever.
It’s impossible for us to see each other eye-to-eye since he’s six inches shorter than me. I like the idea that he’s the one who needs to look up to me after all these years.
He’s a predator, molester, and the bane of my existence. My ruin.
“Jethro, how’s it going?” He’s goading me because I know nothing would please him more than if I hit him with a bunch of witnesses present, so he could sue me. Not happening. I suddenly decide that it is best to ignore this piece of shit and move on.
“My name’s Jet Turner, you must have me mixed up with someone else.” I turn to walk away and everything in me wants to kill the motherfucker. Instead, I concentrate on the faces of my bandmates and make a decision that I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.
Joseph P. Lawless doesn’t define me.
“See ya around, Jethro.” I’ve no doubt he will because after all these years, I finally have something he’s always wanted. My music.
My whole body’s trembling as I crawl into the limo. No matter how hard I try to stop it, I can’t. “Here, drink this.” I’m grateful when Lucas hands me a glass of whiskey. I don’t even care where it came from. I down two fingers in one gulp. The burn brings tears to my eyes, but my body quiets almost instantly.
“Did you know that guy?” Trevor asks. He has no clue just how well I know that asshole, but I’m not going there. Ever.
Lucas covers for me in a flash. “Nah, just another looney tunes looking for something that ain’t there.”
Everyone starts talking about the shoot and about leaving tomorrow for the second leg of the tour. Me, I just stare out the window, too lost in my own thoughts. Wondering how long it will be before the other ball drops. I should have known that something unexpected was going to drop since things were going too well.
“Is there anything I can do, Jet?” Quinn’s Spidey senses are in overdrive and I hate it. Everyone’s forgotten about the incident but her. Last time I checked, she wasn’t a shrink, a priest, or a friend for that matter. So, I do what I do best.
“Yeah, you can mind your own damn business.” Well, that shut her up.
QUINN
Clearly he’s upset, which leads me to believe he lied. He knew that man. Why else would they be staring each other down with so much malice and unresolved hatred? And the fact that Lucas handed him a drink and then squashed Trevor’s question immediately. That was all the proof I needed. For today, I’ll let his flippant remark slide off my back. But before we leave tomorrow, Jet Turner will learn to respect me or I’ll be taking the next flight home. I’m done giving him my all, when he gives me nothing in return.
As soon as the limo pulls into the parking lot, Jet opens his door and storms towards his car. Lucas and Abby are right behind him. Abby loves keeping the peace, so she invites everyone to her place. Trying to cover for the scene that plays out not twenty feet away. Lucas and Jet are in a heated discussion which isn’t meant for all of us to hear.
I’ve never interfered with anyone else’s personal life, but if I let this continue, either one of them will start the tour with a black eye. Something needs to be done and I’ve appointed myself the mediator of the group. So the hell with it.
Slamming the door, I stomp over and place myself in the middle of them both. I know better than to touch Jet, so I give Lucas a push with the palms of my hands. “Knock it off, you guys. You’re causing a commotion which will have security here in a flash if you don’t.”
I spin around to confront Jet with my arms crossed so he knows I won’t touch him. His eyes are wild and manic. Whoever this man was in the crowd, it has him frazzled beyond belief. “Jet, you’re upset. Let me drive you home.”
“I don’t need anyone to fucking drive me, I’m fine!”
“Bro, you had a glass of whiskey,” Lucas says. “If you get pulled over you’re fucking screwed and so is the tour. Now either I drive you home or Quinn will.”
He stares off into space and I can see his fortitude crumbling. I’m afraid if he stays here any longer, he’s going to fold. “Have Willow drive me home.”
“No can do. Everyone drank except me and Quinn. Look, if you come home with me and Abby, I promise I won’t bust your balls. Sound like a plan?”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Quinn will take me home.” Well, it’s a start, but now I’m worried he’ll lose control before I get him home.
I use the key fob to unlock my door and sigh in relief when Jet slides in. The slamming of the car door is proof he’s not too happy. Best he’s unhappy in the cab of my car than behind bars for fighting in the street. With his best friend. Before I get in, I turn to Lucas and say, “I’m sure he’ll be fine once he’s calmed down. I’ll text you after I drop him off.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think you driving him home is going to help. He needs to release some of the tension and anger he’s holding back. I wish he would have just hit me to get it all out.”
“Very noble of you, Lucas. Unfortunately, I don’t want any fighting amongst anyone. Talk later.”
I’m silent as I slide in, buckle up, and start the car. I don’t want to play twenty questions, and with our track record I’m truly surprised he wanted me to drive him. Or that he listened and let me.
The drive doesn’t take more than thirty minutes and we’ve been quiet the whole way, other than the music erupting through the sound system. Pulling up to the curb, I park the car and wait. I really don’t know what to say to him. Sometimes it’s best not to say anything since I’ve no idea what transpired between the two. I’m surprised when he’s in no rush to leave, so I wait.
He’s staring straight ahead when he says, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, anything.” I do mean that.
“What would you do if there was someone who wanted to take away the very thing that made you feel alive?” I’m sure he had no idea that I’m an expert on that matter.
“I wouldn’t let them. I’d leave, fight, or do whatever I needed to do.” After what happened today, I add, “Within the law, of course.”
He nods, doesn’t speak as if he’s mulling everything over. I know he’s not drunk, but Lucas was right by not wanting him to drive.
Being as upset and angry as he is could have ended in disaster.
“Thanks, I just needed someone to solidify that I’d done the right thing.” Okay, and what the hell is that supposed to mean?
“I know we’ve had our differences and all, but if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen. I’m pretty good at it, just ask my friend Nina.” He turns slightly, but not enough for me to see those sad blues.
“Good to know, but there’s no reason to wake the dead. Nina’s lucky, I bet you’re a great friend.” When he opens his door to leave, I reach over and touch his arm. Then realize what I did. Shit.
I’m surprised when he doesn’t flinch or pull away. When he’s halfway out the door, he says, “Thanks for the ride. I apologize for being such an asshole. See ya tomorrow.”
My throat is tight and dry and I find it hard to swallow. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the steering wheel. All I can envision are those homeless kids in that damn alley and Jet being one of them. I’m startled when the passenger door opens and Jet sticks his head inside.
“You okay, Quinn?” I want to be honest and tell him no, but then again I’d need to explain.
“I started with a migraine and I left my medicine at home. I should be fine in a minute or two.” That’s a lie. Sometimes they are debilitating and I need to lie down.
I’m nauseous when my door opens and Jet reaches inside. “What are you doing?” I slap at his hands as he unbuckles my seatbelt.
“You need me, so I’m driving you home so you can take your medicine. I’m fine, Quinn. Really.” He sighs and it sounds so damn loud. “Lucas didn’t want me to have my car because he was afraid I’d try to find that man at the shoot. End of.” I’m in too much pain to fight him, so when he slides his arm under and lifts me, I lean against him. Then everything turns to black.