by Rebel Farris
A roadie brought out a stool and my acoustic electric guitar. My hands shook as I adjusted the microphone, so I could sit and sing. I’d never been this nervous before, but I’d also never put my heart out for public consumption like this either. The lovely part of playing shows of this size was that the road crew would’ve pretuned this guitar for me, so I began to play the song I’d been writing since Jared’s return from overseas.
“This song is called ‘The End of What I Knew,’” I said into the microphone.
A hush fell over the crowd as the words of the first verse fell from my mouth, the music spilling from my soul.
Is this the end,
of what I knew?
Is this the end,
of what we used to be?
Is this the start,
of something new?
Or is it just the amount
of all we’re ever gonna be.
When I find myself all alone,
this distance between us,
causing all this silence.
I think—I think of your smile,
the one with love in your eyes,
Pride in your sigh.
I took a breath as I built up the song to the chorus. Strumming the guitar with my eyes closed. Imagining he was the one in front of me.
If we are meant to be.
Why won’t you talk to me?
Open your heart for me.
I’m dying for you, can’t you see.
I sang three more verses and repeated the chorus several times. When I hit the last note and let it fade, I was met with absolute silence. Tears built up in my eyes, and I started to stand. The crowd went wild, cheering and screaming. I thought it was loud, but then it heightened to a deafening roar. I looked behind me, and Jared was walking toward me. He didn’t say a word, just grasped my cheeks and kissed me. The guitar fell from my hands and clattered to the ground, producing feedback as I kissed him back. I couldn’t think beyond the relief that he heard me.
I could taste the alcohol in his mouth, and I knew he had already started drinking. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead on mine, wiping the tears from my face.
“I do love you,” he said, taking a ragged breath.
“I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”
He tucked me into his side as we walked offstage together, waving to the crowd as we made our exit.
“What the fuck was that?” Asher asked with a grin as soon as we neared him.
“Where did that come from?” Nate asked. “I didn’t know you’d written any new material?”
“That was fucking magic, Maddie,” Asher said excitedly. “You had them enthralled. So fucking awesome.”
Asher held up his fist to bump, and I met his with my own. I gave him a tired smile. I felt exhausted.
“I’m going to make a few calls. We need to get you in a studio to record before we leave for the next city. Release it as a single. It’s going to top the charts, guaranteed,” Nate said.
“Okay,” I replied, yawning.
“Hey, let’s get you back on the bus,” Jared said, squeezing me to him.
I nodded, and we started to move toward the back of the building. When we neared the back door, two security guards waited to escort us to the bus.
“It’s pretty crazy out there. You have a lot of people with backstage passes tonight,” one of them said, then opened the door.
There were barricades in place, but the screaming was loud as excited fans caught sight of us. I plastered on a smile and prepared myself to sign autographs. This was pretty standard after show business. I gripped Jared’s hand and followed Asher out the door.
We had maybe made it about ten feet when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Jared wasn’t signing autographs. His face had drained of color, and he was breathing rapidly. One excited fan hoisted herself up on the barricade and attempted to grab at him. His pupils dilated, and I watched in slow motion as he knocked her hand away and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. I rushed over and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me.
“Let her go, Jared. It’s me. I got you, Jared. Just let her go,” I coaxed.
He blinked and pulled his head from my hands.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” he sneered at the girl as he let go. He turned, storming away from the crowd.
“I’m sorry.” I gave her an apologetic smile and then turned to chase after him.
When I got to the bus, he was already inside, yelling.
“Why are there always fucking toys on the floor. How many times do you need to be told to put your shit away when you’re done playing with it?” He threw one of the toys across the tiny interior. It hit the wall with a loud clatter.
“Jared. Stop,” I said, stepping in between him and the girls.
Kim was sitting on the couch with the girls curled to her sides. Cartoons played on the TV mounted across from them.
“Here, take them to go get ice cream, please.” I dug my credit card out of my purse, hanging on a hook by the door, and shoved it in her hand.
She nodded and ushered the girls out of the bus. He slammed cabinets open and closed, one after the other. I knew what he was looking for, and a part of me died a little, watching him like this. He finally found a bottle and opened it, tipping his head back to take a swig.
“Jared, can we please talk about this?” I made a grab for the bottle.
“Why the fuck are you here? Shouldn’t you be out there with your little fans? Those people really love you, you know?”
“I’m here because I love you. You’re the only one that matters to me. Please, just talk to me. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. You’ve been overseas three times, and you didn’t come back like this before.”
“Yeah, well. The first two times, I was with my brothers. Smart guys who were fucking well-trained. Then I fucked them over for you and got what I deserved. Getting sent over there with a pack of fucking idiot soldier wannabes.” He threw the bottle up against the wall, and it shattered. “Are you fucking happy now?”
I took a shaky breath to calm my racing heart. “Jared, I think you need to talk to someone.”
“Why? So we can figure out that you’re the source of my problems? It always comes back to you!” He got up in my face, screaming at me.
A sob tore from my chest. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. Because no matter what happens, every fucked up thing in my life can be traced back to you. I don’t even know why I bother,” he said venomously, then turned and left, the door cracking against the side of the bus and swinging back halfway.
I dropped to the floor and continued to sob. I couldn’t understand it. He was always so angry now. I knew something major was wrong. Something had happened on this last deployment. He got angry at the slightest thing. I’d put myself between him and everyone, trying to keep them from this pain, but I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
My phone rang, and I picked it up to answer without looking at who it was. I couldn’t think straight at that moment.
“Did he hurt you?” a modulated voice asked.
I checked the phone, and the call was from an unknown number. The motherfucking stalker.
“Why do you care? Isn’t your job to, what… scare me? Aren’t you planning to hurt me? Why don’t you fucking leave me alone, because I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”
“I’d never hurt you. I’ve only been looking out for you. I’m trying to make sure you’re happy,” the voice intoned.
“Says the chickenshit who won’t even use his real voice when he calls. Did you forget that I already know what your real voice sounds like after you picked me up in New Orleans? Yeah, I know that was you. You know what? Fuck you. Go get your own life and leave mine alone.”
I hung up and sagged backward, leaning against the couch. The whole bus smelled like whiskey. I wasn’t going to sit around feeling sorry for
myself. I picked myself off the floor and started pulling out the cleaning supplies. The door creaked. Asher was standing there, taking in the debris littered around the space.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I just need to clean this up.” I bent over, sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan.
“Let me help,” he offered, taking a step toward me.
“No.” I held up my hand to stop him. “This is my problem. You don’t have to be a part of it.”
“I should just sit here and watch him tear you down? Because I live on this bus, too.”
“That’s not—I don’t want to talk about it,” I said over my shoulder as I continued to clean.
He snorted but didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall.
“What do you want me to do about it? Break up with him? Cancel the tour? The best I can hope for right now is just to contain the fallout, Ash. Hope that eventually he hears me and decides to get help. Because there really is no other option.”
Now
“Good girl,” he says, and his mouth twitches into a smirk before falling away to the neutral mask he wears often. His head tilts to the side as he studies me from his position. He’s no more than ten feet away, but the silence seems to stretch out the space between us, making it feel like miles.
“Say something.” The words leak out of me.
He doesn’t reply but instead walks toward the door, and my stomach plummets. Bile rises to the base of my throat. I was wrong, so wrong about him. The room spins as his hand reaches out for the doorknob. I don’t blame him; I’m ruined. I’m the spoiled milk that has been sitting on the counter for years. Curdled, sour trash. Tears fill my eyes as I sway, unsure of how I’m still standing because I can’t feel my feet. The numbness has settled over me, somehow comforting in its familiarity, like an old unwelcome friend.
The lock on the door clicks, and Dex turns to face me. His brows climb as he takes in my face, his eyes filled with fire. His neutral expression turns to something much darker. I can see it—the anger. I think that’s the only emotion he wears with ease. He stalks toward me like a predator, all lethal grace. He stops when his toes are mere inches from mine. I know because I’m staring at them.
I can’t move. My eyes slowly track up his tightly coiled body to his chest, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.
“I think we’ve danced around the truth long enough,” he says as his hand slides up my arm and over my shoulder.
I’m expecting him to tip my chin and force me to meet his eyes, so I’m caught off guard when instead, it wraps around my throat, and I find myself stumbling backward. I hit the wall, knocking the breath out of me just before the pressure increases. Not squeezing to choke, but pressure over the vein in my neck, making me dizzy. He captures that last breath as his mouth descends on mine. Pleasure skitters down my spine, lighting me up. His body presses into mine. I can feel the coiled tension beneath his skin. Our tongues tangle and fight for dominance, but now we both know who will win.
He grips my thigh with bruising force and pulls it up to his hip. Then his fingers skate over the back of my leg in a whisper-soft touch. The contrast does strange things to me. A strangled moan escapes me as his fingers deftly slide under my shorts and dip into my core.
Dex releases a growl that vibrates through me at every point of contact. His lips break away. “You can’t fake perfection like that.” His voice is rough and carries a razor’s edge. “How far can you go?”
“Give me everything,” I rasp out. My fingers dig into his shoulders. I curl them, pressing my nails in hard enough to draw blood, and I pull. “Fuck me.”
His reaction is instant. I hear the tear of fabric, and his hand is gone from between my legs. The other hand around my throat pushes higher until my toes barely graze the ground. My heart is a band of wild horses, racing through open plains. He grunts as my hands press harder into his shoulders to relieve the pressure on my neck and breathe. Then his knee is shoving my other leg out of the way, and I can feel the heat of him as he lines his cock up to my entrance.
“Admit that you love me,” he demands.
My eyes lock on to his. They’re so dilated that they look like black holes eclipsing turquoise stars. But I see it, lying beneath the hunger—pure unadulterated adoration. This man has met me every step of the way. His quiet calm and understanding has opened my soul. He never flinched, never drew back, just accepted me for what I am. I’m a misshapen puzzle piece that never found a good fit. He has wrapped himself around my life and clicked into place. I feel giddy as I realize that he’s everything that I need and all that I want. I couldn’t deny how I feel if I wanted.
“I do.”
“Say it, Firebird.”
“I love you.”
He slams into me so hard, I cry out, the heat of him burning through me like wildfire. He stills inside me. The sound of his labored breath fills the void between my sharp gasps. His eyes still pin me in place, watching. I’m staring death in the eyes because this man has the power to kill me.
“I’ll kill for you. Anyone who threatens you. Anyone who tries to come between us… I’d warn you that I’m a dangerous man, but I think you know what I am. So perfect. You fit who I am and what I want to be like a glove. You. Are. Mine.” He punctuates the last word with another thrust that has me crying out again.
I’m going to combust. Each stroke of his cock is like a licking flame. I feel like a real firebird as his fire consumes me, razing through the fractured pieces of my soul—the dark and the light, creating a new unified landscape that is entirely his.
“Yes,” I scream. “Harder. Don’t be gentle. Make me feel you. Make me yours.”
His mouth is back on mine in a flash, and his hand releases my throat, only to punch through the drywall next to my head. He pulls on the edge of the hole as he grants my wish, pounding into me. Yes. It’s breathless and tender and hard. Like he’s making love to me in his own way. Our way. And it’s perfect.
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” I chant along with his brutal thrusts. “Dex, you feel so good.”
I’m not even sure why I’m talking. I’ve never done this, but something about him makes the words spill from my lips. A need to voice all the dirty thoughts he inspires.
His hand not currently tearing out the drywall sneaks in between us, his thumb finding my bundle of nerves. It circles lazily, so at odds with his punishing pace. It pulls me to the brink of release, but it’s not enough to tip me over. My mind follows that lazy circle pattern, scrambling my brain. A smirk takes over his face like he knows. The pressure’s building and building. He leans forward, running his tongue up my neck, and nips my ear.
“When you come, I want to hear you scream my name. So I know it’s branded on your soul,” he whispers in my ear. His voice rough with lust and strain only pushes me higher.
I’m Icarus soaring way too close to the sun.
“Come,” he commands, watching me with those eclipse eyes. His fingers come together, pinching the swollen bundle of nerves.
I scream his name in a broken staccato to the rhythm of his hips and the waves of bliss that roll over me. He grunts and speeds up as he meets me in our temporary heaven.
He pulls me to him, and I’m wrapped around his body like overcooked spaghetti, sticky and limp. Leaning over the bed, he deposits me there. We groan together as he pulls out. My legs twitch with the friction. He pulls off my shorts as he stands and discards my sports bra, too. I watch him through hooded eyes as he drops his shorts… and my brain falters.
He’s motionless as my eyes travel from where the tail of the dragon rests on top of his left foot. It wraps around his calf and thigh, disappearing behind his hip. I’m distracted by his hardening cock for a moment before I move up. One wing stretches up to the side of his neck, and the other curves around his body, ending on his right hip. He has Audra’s name over his heart, and I melt a little at that. He has vario
us other tattoos over his arms and body, but my eyes reach his face and catch sight of his look. It’s smoldering. He likes my attention on him.
My mouth goes dry. I lick my lips, and he falls to his knees, yanking my ankles and dragging me down until my legs are off the bed. He pushes my thighs apart, his tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip. I’m hypnotized by the tiny movement until he leans forward, and I realize what he’s doing. I bring my legs together, trapping his head to stop him. He growls and looks up at me.
“You came in me,” I say, slightly scandalized by his intentions.
He grins, exposing those dimples. “I know. I was there, but now I’m about to find out what that heaven tastes like.”
He forces my legs apart, and his mouth is on my sensitive folds in a blink. The heat of his tongue parting me adds to the sensation. I’m so sensitive I can feel the texture of his tongue. A moan spills out of me in response. His chest rumbles, the vibrations ricocheting through my body, breaking apart every thought in my mind. Knowing that he’s lapping up the evidence of both of our pleasure and that he likes it, is blowing my mind. It’s animalistic and carnal.
He pushes two fingers into me and curves them in just the right way. I can feel the pressure rising. His other hand moves to my breast at the same time his pinky penetrates my puckered hole as he pinches my nipple roughly and sucks hard on my clit. The stimulation is overwhelming. My back bows off the bed as a scream of pleasure erupts from me.
“Yours. I’m yours,” I pant.
Halfway up the crest of pleasure, he’s gone. I’m roughly pushed over to my belly, and he grabs my hips, lifts, and is back inside me before I come down. My orgasm stretches out in waves punctuated by the crude slap of skin on skin as he drives into me. Holy fuck. My whole body convulses and spasms with the overload of stimulation. It feels like I’m falling as my vision dims. Black spots and flashes of light are all I see as I claw at the sheets to get away. He only tightens his grip and picks up the pace. When his fingers brush over my belly, heading for that special spot, I know I’m going to die. What is he doing to me?