TAINTED: THE COMPLETE DUET

by Jenner, Carmen

  There are three doors back here, each one containing a viewing window. The first two rooms sit in darkness, but I follow the music, the bass reverberating through my feet and peer through the window at Cooper and his assistant. They’re both facing the viewing window into the studio, and they look as though they’re involved in some kind of argument, but I take a deep breath and quietly push into the room, anyway. If I’m going to be surrounded by these people twenty-four seven I may as well start making an effort so this is as bearable as it can be.

  “No, the last thing you need right now is another red-headed bitch clouding your judgment. What were you thinking?” Deb demands.

  “I don’t know, Deb; that she was hot and on her knees in front of me. I wasn’t thinking much past the point where all the blood rushed to my cock.”

  I clear my throat and everyone turns to look at me. Zed lounges on the couch banging his fists on his chest in time with Ash’s bass and the guide track behind it, the sound engineer glances up from his porn mag, and Deb and Cooper stare at me with the wide-eyed gazes of a couple of kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Deb recovers first. In fact, her turnaround is really very impressive. She looks like she’d make a hell of an enemy. Which, judging by the look on her face, I’m about to experience firsthand.

  “Oh look, Coop, it’s your other assistant.” Her perfectly painted red lips turn up in a vicious smile and then she stalks towards the door. “If you’re going to fuck this one, big brother, make sure to double bag it.”

  He gives her an impatient smile, the kind only shared between people who’ve shared a childhood, and probably know where your most embarrassing photos are stored. Debbie leaves the room and Cooper turns his steely gaze on me.

  “I bought coffee, though I didn’t know what kind you liked.” I screw my nose up under his scrutiny. Is he looking for something? Do I have something on my face, or does he always stare at women as if he wants to write songs about their eyes? “Oh, and you should probably know I’m not going to have sex with you. I’d rather choke down this Styrofoam cup.”

  Zed quits banging his palms on his chest, long enough to smile at me. It’s kinda creepy when he does that. He’s all tattoos, and platinum hair, piercings and manic excitement, but he looks like a little kid when he smiles. It’s weird, given how many women want to screw him silly.

  I glance back at Cooper. He laughs. At first it’s just an incredulous grunt, and then it turns into an all-out, chest-heaving, stomach-clenching laugh. I don’t know what the hell is so funny. All I really want to do is just back away from the crazy rock stars and run like hell. But, I need this job, so of course I don’t. I just wait for him to take his coffee from my outstretched hand. When it looks like he’s not going to, I set the cardboard carrier down on the table along with the paperwork from Harbour Records.

  “Is that our paperwork?” Cooper asks.

  “Yep.”

  “Zed, you wanna go get Levi to take a look at this?”

  “Au contraire, he’s busy with ze busty blonde that goes by ze name of Marie,” he says in a French accent. He’s so fucking weird.

  “Please?” Cooper asks and gives him a not-so-subtle head jerk toward the door.

  “Oh, you wanna talk to Red alone, huh?” Zed rises to his feet. He’s absolutely huge this close up. I don’t know how I failed to notice that earlier. “I get it, just, you know, if you’re gonna fuck her silly sideways make sure you—“

  “Out!” Cooper shouts, and Zed sniggers as he backs out the door.

  “Look, if you’re gonna be working for us, you should know that the guys are kind of idiots,” Cooper says, folding his arms across his chest as he leans against the wall.

  I mirror his posture, but I’m not leaning against anything these men have touched because ... ick. Levi has more than likely already had a girl on every square inch of flat surface this studio can boast. “I already gathered that, but thanks for the heads up.”

  “I know you don’t wanna be here.”

  I roll my eyes. Really? Whatever gave him that idea?

  He frowns, his blue-grey gaze searching my face. “Would you say something please?”

  “What exactly should I say?”

  “Fucked if I know. Say something about the music. About how the coffee shop was a bitch fight. About how much you don’t want to be here.”

  “I don’t really see how telling you any of that stuff helps me escape this nightmare, but you want words? Fine. Ash just hit a bum note. In fact, in the five minutes that I’ve spent in this room, he’s hit about three of them. Which the sound engineer would know if he was paying attention and didn’t have his head stuck in a porn mag.” I turn and give the guy a pointed look. He stows the magazine under the table with a sheepish grin thrown Coop’s way.

  “Still want more words?”

  Coop smiles. “Yeah. Actually, I kind of do.”

  “Okay then, Zed’s drumming makes me want to take my clothes off. He’s a genius, rivalled only by Moon, but I doubt we’ll ever see his full potential because despite what he thinks, the drugs actually impair his mojo. Your voice is okay, mediocre at best, but it’s your looks that really carry you as a front man. I’m still trying to work out what it is exactly that Levi does other than bang groupies and receptionists. And I don’t really know how I wound up being the unlucky son-of-a-bitch that gets to follow you jackarses around when there are at least forty other women at Harbour Records that would give their ovaries for the honour.” I take a deep gulping breath and blow it out slowly. “And, it’s highly possible the bitch at the coffee shop spat in one of the lattés.”

  “Why would she spit in our lattés?”

  “Because I’m really unpleasant when I want to be.”

  “No shit.” He laughs, and my stomach does this horrid flippy thing, while my traitorous vagina practically rolls out the welcome mat.

  Fucking rock stars.

  “So, are we done here? Guidelli didn’t say anything about what time I was supposed to finish,” I say.

  “I think the term ‘personal assistant’ kind of extends to you being at our beck and call at all hours.”

  I blink up at him. “You’re shitting me?”

  “Permanently.” Cooper smirks.

  “They do not pay me enough for this.”

  Cooper holds out his hand and says, “Give me your phone”

  “No.”

  “Give me your phone. I need to know where to reach you.”

  I let out a resigned sigh and pull out my phone. It’s a piece of crap. I’ve had it for the last ten years, but it still works. Sometimes. “Fine.”

  He snatches it from my hands and frowns down at the cracked screen. “How do you use this thing?”

  “It’s an art.”

  “It’s a piece of shit. Tomorrow you’ll go get yourself a new one.” He rapidly pushes buttons on my mobile, and then he fishes his wallet from his pocket and hands me a shiny black Amex card. “Here, take this. It’s the band’s expense account. We need to be able to contact you around the clock, which means you need a reliable phone.”

  “I’m not taking your money, and I don’t need a new phone.” I push the card back into his hands and snatch my phone, sliding it in my pocket and ignoring the archaic sound as it dings from behind its denim casing.

  “Well I guess we’re done for the day. Oh, after you hit the bottle-o, that is. It’s gonna be a long one, so if you could bring back a carton of Crowns, I’ll have a bottle of Jack, and Zed likes Sambuca. Make sure to grab some shot glasses while you’re there. Glass, not those plastic ones. He likes to set them alight before he downs a shot, and honestly we don’t need another fire breaking out.” He places the Amex card back in my hand.

  “Another fire?” I shake my head. “You do know how far we are from a store, right?”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Decker’s studio is the best though; we won’t record anywhere else,” he says. “So I’ll see you back here in an hour? Zed needs a hit of so
mething heavier than coffee if we’re gonna work him all night.”

  “You really weren’t kidding, were you, when you said you weren’t going to go easy on me?”

  “You asked me not to do you any favours.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think the extent of my job would be buying liquor for a bunch of frat boys.”

  “Okay then, I’m glad we cleared that up.” He smirks, and god damn is it a pretty sight. What is it with guys and the sexy smirk? Do they pull boys aside in high school and teach them that crap? Like a 101 of how to get a woman to drop her panties for you instantly?

  I thumb the proffered Amex card and leave the studio with my head bent low. I’m just about to open my car door to inhale the stench of the cat from hell when my phone dings in my pocket. I pull it out and scan the messages.

  Me: Coop, your voice makes me want to take my clothes off and roll around in your scent.

  Coop: Thanks, Red. You say the sweetest things.

  That rat bastard. If I’d known he’d hijacked my messages while he had my phone I would have kicked him in the nut-sack. In fact, I really wanna go back in there, but settle instead for a typed message.

  Me: Cute. Though I think the seventh grade wants their clichés back.

  Coop: I may have to get you to drop off my dry-cleaning tomorrow, as long as you promise not to roll around in my unlaundered clothes.

  Me: You know what’s funny? That you can know someone for such a short amount of time, and still want to beat the shit out of them.

  I pocket the phone and slide into the car. My bastard cat meows from her cage on the back seat. I should take her to a shelter. I mean, it’s pretty cruel to leave her in the car all day—not to mention illegal. At least at work I could hide her in the storage closet down the hall that no one ever used. There’s no love lost between that cat and I, but she belonged to my grandmother and she loved it enough to leave her to me in the will, and I don’t know, her angry purr does kind of make the car seem like a less lonely place to sleep.

  My phone dings again and I fish it from my pocket to check my messages.

  Coop: Shall I bring the whipping belt, then? Or do you have your own?

  Me: You know I’m really more of a hands-on kind of girl.

  Oh crap. Did I really just send that? I stare at our messages, praying there was a way I could take that back. I don’t even like this guy. Why the hell would I write that?

  Cat growls from the backseat and I promptly tell her to shut up, and then I drive back to the nearest bottle shop and fill up a trolley full of liquor, half of which will probably go unused. I decide to spend a little money on a packet of Smith’s potato chips—tonight’s dinner—and then I drive back to the studio on the fumes left in my tank. I’ll likely be staying here the entire week since I can’t afford the petrol to drive back to ... oh wait. I have nowhere to drive back to.

  I grab the fluro pink cat harness and a faded old denim jacket that I’ve worn for far too many years, and decide to brave the angry kitty box. It takes me a few minutes to work up the courage to open it, and another few minutes of the cat hissing at me from the back seat before I launch myself at it and smuggle the harness over its fat fluffy body.

  Why couldn’t my Grams leave me a dog? Or a bird? I’d even settle for a damn hamster, but a fucking cat that makes Satan look like a fluffy bunny? Thanks, Grams.

  Once the harness is secure enough and the hissing has calmed a little, I tuck the cat in my jacket. It growls, and I’m sure if I wasn’t wearing a scarf I’d be sporting a ruptured artery because kitty’s claws are out, and she is PMSing like a bitch. I open the door and stalk over to the leafy garden in front of the car. She squirms and backflips out of my arms, sniffing the ground. She slinks down low and looks around, as if she’s terrified. I don’t know what she has to be afraid of—she’s scarier than Satan. In fact, if I were attacked, I wouldn’t need a knife. I’d just throw the cat at my assailant and laugh as she gouged his eyes out.

  While I’m trying to get Cat to do her business, Levi comes gliding out of the studio, followed closely by Cooper. I don’t know why, but I duck down behind the car so they won’t see me, yanking a little too hard on Cat’s harness. She gives me a filthy kitty look that says she may yet claw me to death in my sleep. Both men lean against the wall. Levi pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He hands one to Cooper and then they both light up, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m here.

  “So?” Levi prompts. I don’t know if this is a conversation they’re continuing from inside or if Levi’s just starting up, but the mischievous smile on his face and the irritated look on Cooper’s probably means he’s not going to enjoy whatever Levi has to say.

  “So what?” Cooper asks.

  “Red. You fuck her yet?”

  “Don’t be a dick. I just met her.”

  “I just met Miss Platinum inside,” Levi says, blowing rings of smoke at Cooper. “For the record, her carpet don’t match the drapes.”

  “You’re a sick bastard.”

  “Hey, it was nice carpet. Soft. Plushy.” He laughs and Cooper shakes his head. “The kind you could sink into and just stay there for days.”

  “Well, lucky for you we’ll be recording here for days.” Cooper leans his head back against the brick wall, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke and staring up at the fading daylight and blue sky.

  “Nah, bitches get too needy if you fuck ’em more than once.”

  “Jesus, you’re an arsehole, Levi.”

  “Well we can’t all be willing to give up fucking everything for a piece of pussy.”

  “She wasn’t just some random pussy you, dumb fuck.” He glares at Levi. “She was my everything.”

  “Yeah, your everything that was sticking it to her ex.”

  “Don’t fucking go there.”

  “You need to screw that girl outta your system. You’re Cooper fucking Ryan. You’re a fucking rock star, man. Start acting like it. Do you know how many girls would be willing to offer up their pussies to the lead singer of ... Taint? Fuck me, are we really changing our name?”

  “Yep.” Cooper takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales just as slowly. His head falls back against the brick once more. Smoke curls out of his mouth and nostrils. I damn well hate smokers, but he manages to make sucking back a stick of tar and nicotine look hot. Too hot.

  “Well shit, between you and Ash being completely off his game, we should change our name to the God Squad. Priests see more fucking action than you two do.” Levi shakes his head. “Meanwhile, I’ve got more pussy than I know what to do with. But I’m more than happy to take one for the team.”

  “I’m not fucking Red, and you aren’t either. We need her.”

  “Yeah, I need a warm place to stick my cock when I’m on a tour bus with you fuckers. Zed already called dibs on your sister.”

  Cooper straightens, glaring at his band mate. “What do you mean ‘he called dibs on my sister’?”

  “Relax man, I’m just fucking with ya.”

  “No one touches my sister—”

  “But we can touch, Red?” Levi grins, looking as hopeful as a kid who’s promised an ice-cream on a sweltering summer day.

  “I don’t give a shit who you do as long as you stay the hell away from Deb and stay focused on the tour.”

  Ouch. That stung like a bitch.

  “What is it with you and gingers, man? They’re like your kryptonite. Ever since that country bitch you’re all about the ginge and the misery—”

  Cooper snaps. Turning abruptly, he pins Levi to the wall with his forearm pressed against his throat. Levi holds his hands up in surrender. “Don’t fucking call her that.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your baby mamma.” His eyes are wide and his hands stay raised beside his head. Cooper’s fist is by his face, but he lets it drop and pulls the cigarette dangling off of his lip. He takes a final drag and throws it to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot.<
br />
  Zed comes strolling out of the studio. His hands beating his chest. He eyes his band mates and swoops in like an over-excited puppy, barrelling into Levi and kneeing him in the balls. Levi doubles over Zed’s knee. He recovers enough to punch Zed in the back of the head, but the meth monkey doesn’t look as though he even felt it.

  “The booze is here!” Zed announces, obviously seeing me crouched down in the bushes. He heads straight for me. “And I got a solo just itching to get out, but first I need me a big fucking drink.”

  Both Cooper and Levi turn to glare in the direction of my old bomb. It doesn’t take either of them long to locate me ducked down behind it. I scoop up the cat. I don’t even know if she’s done with her business, but as long as she’s not peeing all over me I don’t really give a damn. She claws at my face, but I dodge out of the way and throw her in the car, slamming the door firmly closed. Her little ginger head pops up and begins meowing at the glass. I turn away.

  Three fourths of the worldwide phenomenon, Taint, descend upon me. Zed’s as huge and energetic as ever, Levi walks with a deliberate swagger—yes, I’ve heard all the rumours surrounding him, and more. I’d always just dismissed it as sort of a groupies’ urban legend, but the longer I stare at the front of his jeans, the more I realise those girls had every right to brag about his massive twelve-inch cock. Holy hell. That’s one massive ...

  “Look, Coop, Red has a pretty little ginger pussy. Who knew?” Levi says leaning around me to tap on the glass. The bastard cat hisses at him. She is really not a happy kitty.

  Zed and Levi titter like school kids but Cooper is studying me with a curious expression.

  “What?” I say, tilting my chin defiantly.

  “You don’t seem like a cat person.”

  “I’m not. It’s my grandmother’s.”

  “You stroke your grandmother’s pussy?” Levi says. I really don’t like him.

  “No, she’s dead. I have her bastard cat because it’s all she left me in her will.”

  “Oh shit,” Levi says, rubbing the back of his neck and grimacing. “Sorry, Red.”

  “Why didn’t you just give it to a shelter?” Coop says. He looks beyond me to my shit-box of a car, and his brow creases in this sexy furrow that makes all the blood in my body rush to my vagina in point-three of a second. “Are you living in your car?”