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

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Jet: An Enemies-to-Lovers Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 2) Page 15

by Connie Lafortune


  “They’re both stubborn jerks sometimes, so this could take all day.” If she’s trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.

  “It’s just hard for me to understand why Jet’s so secretive. I mean, I get that he’s a runaway and he doesn’t use his real name.” Oh no, I just let another one slip.

  “What’s that supposed to mean, Quinn? And how the hell would you know if it wasn’t? Did you have him investigated?”

  Damn, damn, damn!

  “It’s not what you think, Abby. As the band’s PR agent, it’s my job to make sure no one has outstanding warrants, police records, traffic violations, or anything that could hamper the tour. We need to know all of this before moving forward.” She’s pissed and I get it. I’m not one of them!

  I’m about to plead the fifth when Jet storms out of his room with Lucas close behind. They both look pissed and I’m not sure if their wrath is aimed at me.

  “We have a damn concert tonight and we need to leave now. All of this is going to have to wait. Let’s rock and roll.” I’m holding my breath until he links his fingers through mine and pulls me out the door. Relief fills my lungs and I can breathe again. It might be short-lived so I’ll worry about it later.

  Apparently, Trevor and Willow grabbed an earlier ride so it’s just the four of us. Tension is heavy in the air and I’ve no doubt it’s because of me. Abby’s silently killing me with her vibe and I’m going to ignore all of it for now. Jet’s right. We have a concert and need to focus all of our attention on that.

  They finish with minutes to spare and barely have enough time to change before they need to take the stage. This is the most rushed I’ve ever felt in all my years. It was a close call, not the end of the world. Some bands are an hour late and the agitated fans calm down once they get going. I feel shunned as Abby stands behind the curtain to watch. Normally, she’s glued to my side so we can cheer them on, but it won’t happen tonight.

  Lucas owns the stage as his voice fills the arena. “Hello Dallas! Let’s get this fucking party started!” The fans go wild as they begin Distraction.

  My headset is quiet for the first thirty minutes, and when it crackles in my ear, I tense. Until I hear, “What? On stage? Take down now!” Adrenaline has me running towards the stage.

  Abby shakes her head, points, and then opens the curtain so I have a better view. Some crazed fan, a girl, is being dragged off the stage by security. I guess she wanted a piece of Lucas and it wasn’t happening. I wipe my brow like I’m relieved and she nods. I think we’re all a bit on edge with everything going on.

  I head back to my post and grab a bottle of water. I’m already exhausted and it’s not over by a long shot.

  23

  JET

  I’m on stage performing just like everyone else, yet I feel detached. Like I’m having an out of body experience. Half of me is playing my bass and singing along, while the other half is sitting on the sidelines, watching from a distance. That’s the only way I can explain this feeling coursing through my veins. It’s kind of how I feel when I want to crawl inside my sleeping bag and forget. It started the minute I pulled that picture out of the envelope. Too many memories that I desperately tried to suppress.

  One song bleeds into the next, and for the first time in my entire life I just want this night to be done. Over. Music isn’t soothing the savage beast tonight, and if it weren’t for my friends I’d walk off. Say “fuck it” and be done with it. Give myself time to figure out how I’m going to keep my secret any longer. Just when my dream is in my grasp, I can feel it slipping through my fingers. No one will be able to accept my past, and once again I’ll be all alone. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’ve done it before and I sure as hell can do it again.

  As soon as our last encore is over, I stumble off the stage and head to the nearest exit. I’m surrounded by security as I slide into the town car and slam my door. The automatic locks click into place and I relax. Complete and utter silence. It’s the first time I’ve felt calm all day and it’s a welcome change. I knock on the petition and it slowly descends. “Take me to the hotel.”

  “Sir, should we wait for the others?” Hell to the fucking no.

  “They can take the next one.” No questions asked, the petition closes, and the driver pulls away from the curb. I need time to think without everyone hovering over me. Putting in their two cents’ worth. If it were that easy, I would have revealed my story a long time ago.

  Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the back seat, but all I can see behind my lids is that picture. It’s haunting me and might be the reason why I’m drenched in sweat. Yet my teeth are chattering and I’m freezing cold.

  The only person who has access to these pictures is Joseph. He has to be the one behind all of this, but what does he have to gain? Five minutes of fame? More likely he wants to inflict pain on me. If that’s the case, he’s doing a good job. I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything since receiving the first picture.

  I’m stunned when my door opens and Brett is standing there. I didn’t realize the car had come to a stop. Sliding out, I wait for the barrage of flashes, screams, and questions. I’m relieved when it doesn’t happen. It’s exactly what I needed tonight. Quiet.

  “Now that we’re all alone, could you tell me who the young girl is in the picture?” I take it back, I’d rather have the screams and flashes instead of all the questions I’m not ready to answer.

  I keep on walking, giving him my back, hoping he takes the hint. Nope, he catches up and hits the button on the elevator. Great. Guess we’re riding up together.

  “Look, I get you didn’t want to come clean with everyone in the room, but it’s just you and me at the moment. Whatever you tell me is confidential, so no worries about it getting back to the band.”

  After stepping inside the elevator, I lean on the wall and fold my arms. He doesn’t really know who he’s dealing with. I’m a master at keeping my mouth shut. Just ask Joseph. He’ll vouch for me… or maybe he won’t.

  Funny, it’s not the band I’m worried about. It’s Brett. We all know that money talks and bullshit walks, and if the tabloids or a fancy rag wanted info, he’d sell it to them in a hot minute. I’ve seen it happen a million times over. Not happening.

  I still don’t answer or acknowledge him as I step out of the elevator and walk to my room. I swipe my keycard, walk inside, and slam the door in his face. Sorry, you’re not invited. Tonight or any other night.

  After peeling off my sweaty clothes, I set the shower and step inside. Hoping by some miracle that the water will wash away the numbness that I’m feeling. Placing my palms against the cool tile, I let the water splash over my shoulders and course down my back. Until the tiny rivulets follow the curve of my spine, ass, and legs before disappearing down the drain. Grabbing the body wash, I scrub myself clean and get the hell out. Not lingering any longer than I need to. I just want to close my eyes and forget.

  Tonight, the thought of sleeping in a king-size bed is terrifying. Tearing the blankets from the bed, I throw them in the corner and crawl inside. Closing my eyes, I pray for sleep. Without nightmares or black eyes staring back at me.

  QUINN

  I’m reluctant to sleep in our room after Jet stomped off the way he did tonight. I thought about grabbing another room but decided against it since all of my clothes are in his room. Our room. Then again, after tonight it might not be anymore.

  The only good thing to come out of all this is Abby isn’t pissed at me anymore. We talked it over and she understands the reason I did what I did. With the exception of Jet, we all went to the afterparty and made excuses for him. “Not feeling well” is the lie we told. It flowed easily off our tongues—honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth to begin with. Jet’s not well and it’s because all of the memories he’s suppressed are coming back in full force. There’s nothing I can do for him, so for now I’m going to let it go.

  It’s pitch black when I walk into the bedroom. I love that the scen
t of his body wash still lingers in the air. I’d love to crawl inside the bed and be the one who takes away all of his pain. Unfortunately, I know he’s the only one who can do that by seeking the help he needs. And, if he chooses not to, then he faces a lifetime of torment.

  Tiptoeing into the bathroom, I close the door before turning on the lights. His clothes are scattered all over the floor, so I pick them up and toss them into the basket. I’m not going to rifle through his pockets and be accused of snooping again. Hell no. I’m so done with that.

  After a quick shower, I dry off and slip into my pajamas. I’m not too worried about looking sexy tonight. That ship has already sailed and who the hell knows when it’s going into port again.

  Since I don’t want to flip on the light, I use the one on my phone to brighten the room. I’m confused when I find the bed empty and the covers are missing.

  What the hell?

  I’m baffled when I peek in the living room and he’s not sleeping on the couch. I do a quick walkthrough and can’t find him anywhere in the suite. Should I call security? I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Did he hook up with someone after he left? The thought makes me sick.

  Something in the corner of the bedroom catches my eye when I walk in. All of the blankets are tossed on the floor. Now that’s really weird. Why would he do that? I need those damn blankets. I’ll text Lucas after and see if he’s heard from Jet. First, I’m going to make the damn bed.

  Reaching down I grab a corner of the blanket and pull. It doesn’t budge. Now I’m getting pissed so I yank it as hard as I can and scream when it moves. I flip on the light and I cover my mouth with my fist when I see Jet lying there. Is he hurt? Dropping to my knees, I reach out and touch him.

  “Jet, are you okay?” I can’t smell anything on his breath, so I don’t think he’s drunk. He’s sleeping on his back with his arm covering his eyes. My gut’s telling me he needs me, so I crawl in beside him and my heart breaks when he moans. Not in ecstasy, but in pain. Sounding like a wounded animal caught in a trap. “I got you. Go to sleep.”

  A heavy sigh and he rolls over and pulls me in. It’s not the most comfortable position—I really wish he’d go back to bed—but I’ll stay here if that’s what he needs. I’m dozing off when he mumbles in his sleep.

  It’s incoherent so I can only make out a few words.

  Stop—

  Sister—

  Breathing—

  Oh god, he’s sobbing in his dream and I can’t for the life of me let him continue. “It’s me, Quinn! You’re having a bad dream. Wake up, Jet!” I give him a little shake and he slides into the corner.

  No, no, no.

  “Baby, wake up. It’s okay, I’m here.” He startles but his eyes open wide and it takes a few minutes for him to focus.

  “Quinn—”

  “I’m here. Can I get you anything?” He seems a bit skittish. I don’t want to scare him. He needs time to get his bearings.

  “Water. Please.” He sits up, wrapping his arms around his bent knees, and leans his head against one arm. Watching me.

  “Coming right up.” I stand on shaky legs, rush into the living room, and grab a bottle out of the mini fridge. Taking a few deep breaths, I try calming the beat of my heart because I swear he can hear it from across the room.

  “Here ya go.” I unscrew the cap and hand him the bottle. When he guzzles the water, I run my fingers through his damp hair. It’s so curly when it’s like this. “Better?” I ask when he finishes.

  “Much, thanks.” He’s staring straight ahead. Avoiding me. And I do the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Yep, now he’s pissed again. He quickly stands up and wanders into the other room. I hear the fridge open and then nothing. He’s not coming back.

  I spend the next fifteen minutes making the bed. Then another twenty minutes waiting for him. Nothing. I can’t let it go so I find him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Crap.

  “There are a lot of things I’m afraid of.” His head snaps up in my direction and I hesitate to continue, but something inside tells me he needs to hear this. “Some of them are stupid. Like my fear of spiders and heights. Ninety-nine percent of the population is scared of the same old shit. The fear that keeps me awake at night is the thought of being alone. Not now, but when I get older and I’m sitting in my rocking chair and no one’s there. Ya know? Scary feeling.” I stop and let him contemplate my words. I’m not sure if this is one of his fears, but I sense it is. He feels he’s not good enough, so therefore he chooses to be alone.

  “Reverse psychology might work on some people, Quinn. Me? Not so much. I’m going to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.” I’m guessing he didn’t need to hear it after all.

  24

  JET

  I’m so angry that Quinn caught me sleeping on the floor last night. I thought for sure she’d question me, but she let it go. For how long? It’s my story to tell and I’ll never be ready to share it with anyone. Or with her. So it’s time to cut the ties and move on.

  I felt the mattress shift when she came to bed early this morning. It was a shitty move, but I faked sleep because I didn’t want to talk or have sex with her. I’m not in the right head space for anything and I might never be if those pictures continue coming. Those memories are private and in my past life. They have no room in my present, or in my future for that matter.

  Brett texted me earlier this morning, no fingerprints. It’s obvious that whoever’s doing this wiped them clean. Many people have touched them over the years, so to find nothing is absurd. I know it’s Joseph. It has to be. I even went so far as to give them his full name and last known address. I know by doing so I kinda outed myself, but if Brett figured it out, he didn’t mention it. Yet. I’m sure that will be coming soon. Even if it does, there’s nothing they can do. In fact, I’d sue the agency if anyone revealed that I was Jethro Lawless. The same boy who ran away thirteen years ago.

  The only thing I can do is get my shit together. Regardless, of how many pictures continue coming, I need to concentrate on the tour. It’s my life’s blood and if it all falls apart tomorrow, at least I can say I gave it my all. No one can take that away from me. No one. I won’t let them.

  Today is an off day since we’re traveling. Our flight leaves in a few hours and it’s going to be awkward as hell. I haven’t spoken to anyone after I stormed off after the concert last night. Well, with the exception of Quinn. And that conversation was minimal at best. What do you say to someone who just about picked you up off the floor? Yeah, not much.

  I guess I’m waiting for another picture to pop up. I can’t wait forever, so I try to relax and enjoy the ride to the airport. It’s quiet because I requested to go alone. It raised a few eyebrows and I can tell Lucas was pissed. Too damn bad. Unlike him, I don’t need an audience except when I’m on stage. I’ve been alone for so long that it makes me uncomfortable when there are too many people around. It’s just me and I don’t foresee things changing anytime soon. Which kinda blows Quinn’s theory to smithereens. Maybe she’s afraid of being alone when she’s old and gray. Not me. I’ll be lucky if I make it that long. If I do, I’d be content in my rocking chair as long as I had an awesome view.

  “Have a safe flight, sir. And good luck with the tour.” My driver tips his hat as I step out into the fresh air and my mood changes when I spot Lucas waiting for me. Blood brothers or not, he needs to mind his own business.

  “Hey, you’ve been avoiding me. What’s up?” Lucas hasn’t realized yet that the dynamics between us have changed.

  “I’m not avoiding you, asshole. I’ve got shit to deal with and I’m not bringing anyone down with me. Besides, you’re too busy with Abby and I’m not going to interfere.” There, I said it.

  “Bro, she’s much prettier to look at, but I’m always here for you if you need me. You know that, right?” Trouble is I do.

  “Yeah, appreciate it. Not necessary, though. I don’t nee
d a babysitter.” That reference was for Quinn, not him.

  “Well, in any case, we all miss hanging out together and if you’re up for it, we’d like to chill tonight and shoot the shit. Good food, friends, and alcohol. You in?” My mind is screaming at me to pass, but I’ve been doing that too much lately.

  “Sure, why not. We can’t get there from here if we don’t get a move on.” He slaps me on the back and gestures with his hand for me to go first. And of course when I get on the plane, the only seats available are next to Quinn or Abby. I opt for Quinn, since I don’t want to die today.

  I’ve avoided her all day and she’s given me my space. This makes me wonder how the sleeping arrangements are going to be moving forward. Makes me wish I hadn’t been too hasty in wanting to share a room. Well, nothing says we can’t go back to the way it was before. I throw my bag in the overhead and take my seat, making a mental note to mention something to Quinn before we get there.

  She’s too busy writing in her planner and avoiding me, so I put on the headset and watch the movie. I’ve seen the damn thing a few times before but never finished it. I just couldn’t get into a hot shot fighter pilot taking out all the bad buys. Boring, but it beats having to make conversation with Quinn. Hey, maybe today’s the day I finally finish the damn movie.

  Didn’t happen. I fell asleep and now I’m chastising myself for not finishing the movie and having that talk with Quinn. Either I mention it on the ride to the hotel or I wait until we get there. Might be best to wait since I don’t want to have that talk in front of everyone. Especially since I’m the one who went all caveman and insisted we were switching things up. Feels like years ago when it was just a few days ago. I should have known that I couldn’t live a normal life like everyone else. It’s just not in the cards for me.

 

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