Treyton (A Savage Beasts Rock Star Romance Book 2)

by J. Nathan

  “In other words, you wanna sober me up?”

  He laughed. “Didn’t realize you were drunk.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Riiiight.”

  I bumped him with my shoulder.

  He laughed, not even missing a step. “I like seeing you have fun.”

  My eyes cut to his as we made our way through the backstage crowd. “Why?”

  “Because you look damn hot doing it.”

  Excitement bubbled inside me. I hated my body for betraying me like that.

  Guys slapped Trey’s hand or bumped his fist as we passed by. Girls eyed him like he was something they wanted to eat. They probably did—and would if he let them.

  “Are you excited for tonight?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You gonna stay out of trouble?” I asked.

  He pressed his hand to my lower back, guiding me around a rowdy group of people. “Depends.”

  “On what?” I asked.

  “Are you gonna get jealous again?”

  “I wasn’t jealous.”

  “You were jealous.”

  “You’re an egotistical ass.”

  He chuckled.

  We moved closer to the stage. Bass from a rap song pounded the pavement beneath our feet.

  “So, what was it you wanted to ask me?” I said.

  “What?”

  “The fact. You said my beer pong skills couldn’t be my fact.”

  He stifled a smile.

  “Oh, God. What is it?”

  He laughed. “Why’d you say it like that?”

  “I know you.”

  His eyes flashed down, and for the first time ever, I saw an instance of vulnerability I’d never seen in Trey before. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

  “Brielle?” a gruff voice called.

  Trey and I both twisted around.

  A guy I recognized from our video call walked toward us. The video did not do the train wreck justice. His sagging jeans, too-tight wife beater T-shirt, and chunky gold chains were almost comical if they weren’t his everyday attire. He walked—make that strutted—toward me with outstretched arms. “What’s up, girl?”

  Embarrassment filled me as Flow Houz wrapped his arms around me. If I thought my hug with Trey was awkward, this hug was a hundred times more awkward. “Hey, Flow.”

  He stepped out of the awkward semi-hug and turned to Trey, extending his fist to him. “Sup, homes?”

  Trey reciprocated, though amusement played across his face. “Sup.”

  Flow looked to me. “Girl, that spin you did for me was pure magic. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “All part of my job,” I said.

  He draped his arm over my shoulders, clearly not understanding that I wasn’t touchy-feely with my clients. “Come on. I want you to meet my crew.”

  I glanced to Trey, pleading with my eyes for him to save me, but he just held up his hands and smiled, enjoying my mortification way too much.

  “I’ll catch you later, Brielle,” Trey said, using my full name and acting as if he hadn’t just been about to ask me something—something I really wanted to hear.

  “Later, homes,” Flow said, pulling me to the opposite side of the grounds. “Girl, I can’t wait to talk more about branding and the merch I plan to sell. With your help, I’z about to blow up.”

  I let him pull me toward his crew, though something a lot more appealing was walking in the other direction.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Treyton

  Night cast a shadow of darkness over the stage as we took our spots behind our instruments. The excitement was palpable as the crowd roared on the other side of the huge black sheet hung in front of the stage to obstruct their view of us until we dropped it.

  Z glanced to me and I counted down, banging my sticks three times before our music blasted through the massive outdoor arena. I didn’t think the crowd could get any louder, but once the sheet dropped, they became a boom of thunder, erupting at the sight of us. But the sight of them—all one hundred thousand swaying bodies—was just as invigorating to us.

  Z broke into the lyrics to “Midnight,” and the entire arena sang along. We used to end with “Midnight,” but since it was such a crowd favorite, we’d been opening with it to really get the overseas fans pumped.

  I pounded away at my drums, glancing to the designated artists’ area where we watched various acts over the past two days. There wasn’t a free spot. Everyone we’d been partying with had filled the space, wanting to hear us play. It was a rush to have them looking up to us.

  Our set was the most explosive I’d seen over the weekend and everyone knew it. From pyrotechnics to our mega screen, we brought it. The other artists would get to our level someday if they put in the blood, sweat, and tears we had. We weren’t an overnight success. But once we hit it big, the sky was the limit.

  Once we finished “Midnight,” Z introduced the rest of us to the crowd while he drank some water and moved across the front of the stage. He and I had come a long way from our time in foster care. We both thanked our lucky stars every day that we came out on top. We definitely found each other at the right time. Who knew what would’ve happened if we hadn’t found each other or music.

  “Give it up for the best mother fucking drummer on the planet!” Z yelled.

  The crowd roared as I broke into my drum solo, beating the hell out of my drum set. I could feel the bass drum like an extension of my heartbeat as I let the sticks control me. I finished as strong as I’d started, lifting my sticks high in the air to the roar of the crowd. It never got old. Never.

  Z shook his head, amused by my need to show off when given the chance.

  As he proceeded to introduce Camden and Marcus, giving them their individual moments to shine, I glanced to the side of the stage where BJ and Aubrey stood. My eyes searched the area. Where was Brie? I hadn’t seen her since she took off with the Eminem wannabe. The guy was such a tool. I actually felt bad she needed to represent him.

  An unfamiliar throbbing began in my chest, as my mind whirled with the possibilities. She hadn’t missed one of our shows since she’d been on the road with us. Where the hell was she? I craned my neck, trying to nab Aubrey’s eyes.

  She saw me, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “Where’s Brielle?” I mouthed, knowing she never ventured far from the side of the stage while we performed.

  She shrugged, glancing to BJ and asking the same question. He too shrugged, glancing over his shoulder but coming up short.

  The throbbing in my chest intensified. “Call her,” I mouthed to both of them.

  They nodded, as our next song “Sleepless” began. My attention returned to the song. Since I could play the drums with my eyes closed, I had no trouble searching the crowd of artists packed into the side area as I pounded away at my set. Had Brie somehow ended up there and not with our team backstage? I spotted lots of familiar faces, but none of them were her or the rapper.

  While I wanted to enjoy all the love we were receiving from the Hungarian fans, as well as the other musicians, time dragged on and still Brie hadn’t appeared. I’d never wanted to be offstage as much as I did in that moment. Song after song, I waited. But still no Brie. As soon as Z said goodnight, I abandoned my drums and flew backstage. “Did you get a hold of her?” I asked Aubrey.

  “She didn’t answer,” she said.

  “She’s probably just on the bus. She had a lot to drink today,” BJ added.

  He was right. She had been drinking all day. And for someone who didn’t drink like that, it would’ve eventually caught up with her. But if she wasn’t on the bus? I shook off the thought, not allowing my mind to go there.

  I made my way back toward the buses. People slapped my back and greeted me as I passed. I tried not to be rude, but I could see our buses and needed to be there. The weirdness of the situation was not lost on me. I never had to worry about anyone but my own ass. Now, I was worried about someone w
ho despised me most of the time. I quickened my pace, needing to see with my own eyes that she was okay so the clanging in my chest would return to normal.

  “Hey, rock star.”

  I spun toward the cringeworthy voice and found her rapper moving toward me. My eyes shot around him, but Brielle wasn’t there. “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “Brielle. I haven’t seen her since she took off with you.”

  A slow smirk swept across his lips.

  “Dude, don’t mess with me right now,” I warned, about ready to lose my shit. “Either you know where she is or you don’t.”

  “She didn’t mention you were her man,” he said, his eyes drifting over my torn jeans and sleeveless T-shirt.

  “I’m not.”

  His brows, both with shave marks cut through them, lifted. “But you wanna be.”

  My lip curled into a snarl.

  “What is it you like about her? Her nice juicy rack or her perfect ripe ass?”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “Don’t keep her on ice, bro,” he persisted. “If I have it my way, I’ll be the one breaking down her back door and havin’ some dirty face time with her puss—”

  My fist connected with his jaw before he could say one more thing about Brie. It caught him off guard and he stumbled back. But for a scrappy wannabe rapper, he didn’t go down like I thought he would. He came back at me, his fist connecting with my left eye before I could block it. Instinctively, my hand shot to my eye, which gave him time to lower his head and drive into my stomach with a roar. I staggered back with his head in my gut, slamming into someone’s table and sending the contents crashing behind me. I grabbed him in a headlock. My fist came up, hammering him with upper-cuts.

  Muffled shouting around us registered as multiple arms wrapped around me, pulling me off him.

  “Calm down, man,” Z said as he and Reggie pulled me off the punk.

  “He attacked me,” the rapper shouted, blood dripping from his nose as people pulled him away from me.

  “Fuck you,” I said, spitting on the ground.

  “I will sue you, bro. Sue you for everything you’ve got,” he yelled.

  “I’d love to see you try.”

  “Trey?” Brie stepped through the crowd that had gathered.

  A relieved breath whooshed out of me. She’s all right.

  Her eyes jumped between me and the rapper, trying to discern what happened. Then, without warning, her features hardened and her narrowed eyes shot daggers into mine. “What did you do?”

  I blinked back my shock. “What did I do?”

  She huffed. “You just couldn’t stay out of trouble, could you?”

  Was she seriously blaming me?

  Her disgusted glare reminded me of all the times she’d found me in precarious situations before. But this time it wasn’t about me. It was about her. I was defending her fucking honor.

  She turned away and hurried over to the rapper, making sure he was okay while his crew moved him back to their buses. She trailed them, a pathetic follower chasing after a new paycheck.

  Z pulled me away, shoving me toward our buses. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You too?” I snapped, stunned he’d take anyone’s side but mine.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You just assume it was me.” I dropped into a lawn chair outside the bus I shared with Cam and Marcus. “You know me better than that.”

  He crossed his arms and rested his ass on a table, glaring down at me. “You’re not making any sense.”

  BJ appeared with Camden and Marcus. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “We need a minute,” Z said to them. “Can you hang in the bus?”

  Sensing Z’s seriousness, they walked onto the bus.

  “Hey,” Cam called, sticking his head out and tossing me a cold can of beer. “Put that on your eye.”

  I lifted the can to my eye, and a long stretch of silence passed between Z and me. Once he was sure no one was within earshot, he leveled me with his eyes. “Talk.”

  “He said some inappropriate things about Brielle.”

  Z’s head shot back, unprepared for the reason I pounced on the rapper.

  “She’s his publicist now,” I explained. “So, hearing him disrespect her made me think it’s only a matter of time before he tries something, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “You need to tell her.”

  “No,” I snapped. She’d taken his side and accused me of starting it. “You won’t tell her either,” I warned Z.

  He held up his hands. “Not my business. But if you’re really worried about her well-being, you need to give her a heads up about him.”

  “You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.” Brielle stormed over with her fists clenched by her side.

  The sight of her tightened a knot in my gut. She hadn’t trusted me, yet she was looking to me for an explanation. Make up your damn mind, traitor.

  Z disappeared onto the bus.

  “Talk, Trey,” she demanded.

  I lowered the beer can from my eye, but said nothing.

  She dug her hands into her hips and shot me those condescending eyes she was so good at. “You’re not gonna talk?”

  “Why bother? That asshole probably filled you in.”

  “He said you attacked him for no reason.”

  “Oh, yeah. That sounds like me.”

  She crossed her arms and said nothing.

  “Tell me you don’t believe that.”

  “I’m so confused who the real Treyton Collins is right now. My head is literally spinning.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Do you think that sounds like me?”

  Her eyes averted mine. “I don’t know.”

  I stood up and moved forward until I was in front of her. She tipped her head back to see my face and her breath caught in her throat. I glared down at her, ignoring the way her body reacted to mine. My nostrils flared as I held back everything I really wanted to say. “Good luck spinning this one.” I stepped around her and climbed onto my bus.

  She and the rapper would be great together. Both of them had being assholes down to a science.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Brielle

  “You better clean this shit up, Brielle,” my father yelled through the phone. “I’ve got Arthur ready to fly out there and do it for you if you can’t handle it.”

  “I’ll handle it.” I disconnected the call, knowing I needed to do something now that videos of the fight had surfaced—less than an hour after it occurred.

  For once in my career, I didn’t know what the hell to do. I’d been trying to sleep off the alcohol so I could watch the guys perform. When I woke up, I’d not only broken my rule about drinking on the job, but I’d also missed their entire set. I wanted to at least be there when they got offstage. That’s when all hell broke loose.

  What made the whole scene even more infuriating was that I didn’t get a straight answer. Flow was a tool who I didn’t know, and I wouldn’t have been caught dead spending time with him had I not been representing him. He swore Trey just attacked him for no reason—which made no sense.

  And Trey? Trey made a habit of screwing up. And as much as his behavior normally drove me crazy, I wanted to believe him this time. I wanted to have his back. But he was giving me nothing.

  There was one thing I was certain about. The anger in Trey’s eyes when I didn’t believe him. That was real.

  There was a knock on my bus door. It was nearly one in the morning, so I had no clue who I’d find out there. I dragged in a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, knowing I needed to face whomever it was eventually. My breath released when I found Aubrey standing outside alone. I pushed open the door.

  “Got a minute?” she asked, her eyes scanning the area around her as if she didn’t want anyone seeing her at my bus.

  I stepped back, and she climbed inside.

  My phone ran
g, and I checked the screen. My father again. I powered off my phone and tossed it on the table. “Sit.”

  Aubrey sat and looked up at me, her eyes plagued with indecision. “What are you gonna do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She cocked her head. “You represent both of them, but one of them has to be the bad guy. Who’s it gonna be?”

  “Did Trey send you in here?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “What? No.”

  “Be real with me, Aubrey.”

  “The way I see it, I’m one of your only friends out here. If anyone’s gonna be real with you, it’s me.”

  “We’re friends?” I asked, taken aback by her words.

  “After being together every day for over a month, I’d hope so.”

  A burst of warmth spread through my chest—a feeling I really needed at a time like that.

  “So, my question is, are you gonna throw Treyton under the bus to protect your new golden boy?”

  “He’s not my golden boy,” I assured her, knowing my father probably gave me the moron to watch me lose my mind.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Aubrey continued. “The guys will never forgive you if you hurt Treyton. You have the chance not to. What are you gonna do?”

  I dropped into the seat beside her. “I have no idea how to spin this one.”

  “Do you know why Treyton fought him?”

  I shook my head. “He just said I should know him better than that.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think he’s screwed up more times than I can count over the last five years.”

  “Recently?”

  I considered her question. Over the past few weeks, he’d actually given me more reasons to trust him than not to trust him. I shook my head.

  Aubrey’s eyes lowered to her cowboy boots, and she released a sigh.

  “What aren’t you saying?” I asked.

  She didn’t meet my gaze. “I will deny this if it comes back to me.”

  “What?”

  “I heard Z tell Cam there’s more to it, but it’s not his place to say.”

  “What’s that even mean?”

  Her eyes cut to mine as she shrugged. “That’s all I heard. I think you need to find out the truth before you do something you might regret.” She stood and walked to the door, disappearing into the darkness outside.