A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5)

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A FILTHY Friend (Filthy Line Book 5) Page 8

by Jaxson Kidman


  “Last chance,” Nash said to me.

  I sighed. “Let’s go.”

  “Never thought I would see the day you’d leave a strip club without someone attached to your arm,” Nash said.

  “I’m grieving,” I said.

  “Sure you are.”

  Nash led the way out to the waiting car.

  When Nash wasn’t looking, I looked at my phone.

  At Bree’s name.

  I was tempted to send her a text.

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  I was tongue tied even for texts.

  I needed something more to drink.

  And I needed a woman.

  Of course that’s what I had told myself when I went out tonight too.

  “Should we say something about Mitchy first?” Dex asked.

  “Probably,” Reed said.

  “Nash?” Jay asked.

  “Yeah. I mean… I don’t know. We want this to be informal. Right?”

  “It has to be,” I said. “No fancy lights or anything. Just us and some guitars. I’m picturing our practice amps with mics and that’s it. We all get on stage and just jam out a little. Talk about the songs. The riffs. What he wrote. Fuck, we can talk about everything. Spill it all out in the open.”

  I heard the snapping of fingers behind me.

  I looked back and saw dollar signs in Toby’s eyes.

  “Why don’t we hold off on that part?” he asked.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “It’s after midnight. Don’t you need sleep?”

  “He’s waiting for his hooker to show up,” Jay said.

  “On our dime,” Reed said.

  “I work for my money,” Toby said.

  “We get paid to make women wet and he just slips right in,” Dex said.

  “Slips right in,” I said. “Sounds about right… for his size…”

  “Funny,” Toby said.

  “Okay, what do you want?” Nash asked. “We’re trying to talk here…”

  “The stories,” Toby said. “The history of it all. You’re not going to like this, but you should hold off. Let me make a few calls. You guys can write a book.”

  “Oh, fuck,” Reed said. “A moneymaking thing.”

  “Is that wrong?” Toby asked. “You five tell the story. The true story about Mitchy. And the band. Just hear me out. If you tell stories in front of a small crowd, what does that do? Nothing. Gets you nowhere. But if we get a book deal. The tell all of Filthy Line. That’s big…”

  “Big money,” Jay said.

  “I’m sorry,” Toby said. “Did you five just suddenly decide to hate money?”

  I looked at Nash.

  I sighed.

  “Fuck, he has a point,” I said.

  “Toby, get the fuck out of here,” Nash said.

  “I’m leaving,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

  He put up his hands and left.

  We were all silent for a minute.

  “Fuck,” Jay growled.

  “Yeah,” Reed said.

  “He’s right,” Dex said.

  “We’d control the story,” Nash said. “Beginning to end.”

  “I’m not in the mood for this right now,” I said. “We do the show for Mitchy the way we want. We should come out and each say something about him.”

  “Or,” Jay said. “We just start playing. Go into his two favorite songs. Just jam. Then we talk.”

  “I like that,” Reed said.

  “Me too,” Nash said.

  “Dex?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m good with anything.”

  “So now we just need a set list,” Nash said.

  “We can also talk about the riffs and the songs,” Jay said. “Skip the history of the band and Mitchy.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “Save that for the book.”

  We all collectively groaned.

  Sometimes things felt too commercial for the band. But we were a business. We were a brand. We were a product. It didn’t sit well with me, but it was reality.

  I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and wandered to the stage.

  The rest of the band followed. We sat on the edge of the stage with five guitars and just started to mess around.

  Of course, in typical Filthy Line fashion, Jay and Dex started jamming a new riff.

  Reed picked it up for a second and then traded his guitar for an acoustic bass.

  I jumped in on rhythm, strumming the root chords of the main riff.

  Nash just plucked at the strings of his guitar when he felt like it.

  Then out of nowhere, he started to belt out some lyrics…

  Your sound when quiet.

  We’re left in silence.

  The star fades into a brand-new day.

  The street is empty.

  The past is tempting.

  We’ll carry you always.

  Just like that, we were writing a new song.

  A sad song with nothing but an acoustic sound.

  It flowed so easily it was like we had been playing it for ten years.

  In the middle of the song, Jay began to play a solo and he nodded to Dex.

  Dex then played the same solo, leaving me and Nash to carry the song by strumming the chords louder.

  I wasn’t sure we ever wrote a song like that before…

  When we stopped, it was silent.

  Jay rubbed his jaw.

  Reed looked away.

  Dex cleared his throat.

  Nash casually wiped the corners of his eyes.

  “So we have something new to play,” I said as I swallowed hard.

  “Do we open or close with that?” Jay asked.

  “Open,” Nash said. He stood up. “We open with it. I think I’m done for tonight.”

  “It’s heavy,” Dex said. “I’m feeling it too.”

  They all stood up to leave.

  They all had someone to go home to.

  That never once bothered me before.

  Not that it bothered me now.

  I could easily just swing by the strip club again and actually spend some money and have fun.

  Before I could make a final decision, my phone buzzed with a text message.

  From Bree.

  Can I come to LA to be with you?

  I read the text ten times and checked the time each time I read it.

  She never texted me this late.

  She was drunk.

  Drunk and emotional.

  The band all said their goodbyes and I hung back in the practice area.

  The guy driving the car for me was taking a nap.

  I let him be for the moment.

  Hey, babe. Are you okay?

  I sat down and stared at my phone, refusing to blink.

  Waiting for Bree to text me back.

  Just answer my question, Sebastian.

  My fingers hit the screen to reply.

  I swallowed hard.

  You never text this late. You’re always welcome out here. What’s going on? Can you call me?

  Five seconds later, the phone rang.

  I stood up and almost felt nervous to answer.

  “Bree,” I said.

  “You said I could come down there,” she said, her voice slurred.

  I shut my eyes. “Yeah, I did. But you’re drunk, babe. I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean.”

  “I need to get out of here, Sebastian,” she said. “I’m not playing around. I need to get… out of here…”

  She started to cry.

  Fuck.

  “Oh, don’t cry, Bree,” I said. “I’m right here. Talk to me. We can stay up all night and talk on the phone. Remember when we used to do that?”

  “Of course I remember it,” she said.

  “Hey, where’s Mia?”

  “Asleep on the couch.”

  “Okay. You’re not alone. That’s good.”

  “I’m fine, Sebastian,” she said.

  Her drunk voice told me otherwise.

&n
bsp; “I’m sure you are,” I said.

  “I need to go somewhere,” she said. “I need to think.”

  “Then come here,” I said. “Come hang with me and the guys. You’ll love it down here. Clear your head. Go to the beach. Hang out with some rock stars.”

  “Watch you sleep with other women,” Bree added. “Or maybe I can get some rock star loving. Right?”

  My stomach burned for a second. “Bree…”

  “It’s bad up here,” she said. “I miss you. I want to come down there now.”

  The words tore through me.

  She was grabbing at whatever was lingering in her mind.

  “I’m not who I thought,” she said. “You’re not going to believe this, Sebastian. That letter my mother wrote? It was to tell me I was adopted.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s right. She left me a letter… to tell me that…”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Or in a little while. You should get some sleep. Then you can call me in the morning. When the sun’s up.”

  “What do you think is going to happen? I’m going to sleep and then say oh, shit, I shouldn’t have called him…”

  “I didn’t say that, babe,” I said. “You’re getting pretty touchy right now.”

  “Fuck you then.”

  “Don’t piss me off, Bree,” I said.

  “You’re laughing at me right now. You dick.”

  “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

  “I’m staring at my mother’s ashes,” she said. “And a letter where she wrote I’m adopted. And you want to lighten the mood?”

  I wanted to be there with her.

  I wanted to hug her.

  “Bree, just please go get some sleep,” I said. “Stay on the phone with me if you want. We’ve done that before too.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Okay. Hey, you know Mia wants to fuck you?”

  I laughed. “What?”

  “Oh yeah. She has a list of guys she wants to fuck. Like this list that her husband said it’s okay… I don’t know how it works. That’s their marriage I guess. But you’re way up on her list. So, yeah, there you go.”

  “There I go? What?”

  “You have someone to bang next time you’re in town.”

  “A married woman with a kid?” I asked.

  “Like it’s stopped you before.”

  “You sound really jealous right now, Bree.”

  “I’m not jealous,” she snapped. “I just wanted to tell you that. Because she’s mad at me for not fucking you when we were in bed together.”

  I let out a slow breath. “You’re going to be pissed at yourself when you remember this in the morning.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay, babe. Are you in bed yet?”

  “Yeah, I am,” she said. “Tucked in. Do you miss me?”

  “I miss you a lot,” I said.

  “Want me to touch myself and tell you about it?”

  I shut my eyes and smiled. “Fuck, Bree. You’re drunk and emotional.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Big, bad rock star… he can’t have phone sex…”

  “Will you call me when you wake up?” I asked. “If not, I’m calling you.”

  “Don’t call,” she said. “Send your fancy private jet my way. I’m packing a bag and leaving. I’m not lying, Sebastian. I need a break.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said. “I’ll be waiting for you, Bree.”

  “Yeah, you better be,” she said. “You owe me for the years of getting me horny but not doing anything.”

  I put my head back and laughed. “Wow. You need to go to sleep right now.”

  “Then I will,” she said. “Goodbye, Sab…”

  She hung up on me.

  I stood there for a minute, taking deep breaths, smiling, and shaking my head.

  I couldn’t wait until Bree was sober to talk to her again and see what she had to say for herself.

  10

  BREE

  When I woke up, I grabbed for my phone and looked at the texts with Sebastian.

  There were only a couple.

  Which was good.

  Because I had a dream that I was texting him some really raunchy stuff. Where we were basically sexting each other. But it was mostly me. Texting really dirty things to him. And then texting pictures… of places…

  My head ached from drinking but at least I knew that…

  “Shit,” I said.

  I sat up in bed and my eyes went wide.

  Heat flooded my cheeks.

  The dream was a dream, yes.

  But reality was…

  “We talked on the phone,” I said. “We talked on the phone and I said…”

  The bedroom door opened and Mia walked in carrying a cup of coffee for me.

  I stood up. “You.”

  “What?”

  “You fell asleep.”

  “Yeah…?”

  “You fell asleep and I…” I shook my head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “What happened last night?” Mia asked.

  “Nothing. I had a couple of weird dreams.”

  Then come here. Come hang with me and the guys. You’ll love it down here. Clear your head. Go to the beach. Hang out with some rock stars.

  Sebastian’s words echoed in my head.

  “Last night was heavy for you,” Mia said. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No,” I said. “But I want to talk about something with you.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  I sat down on my bed and patted it so Mia would sit next to me.

  I sipped the coffee.

  I took a deep breath.

  “You’re going to have to listen to me on this,” I said.

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “No judgment.”

  “No judgment,” Mia said.

  I nodded. “I think I want to leave town.”

  Mia blinked a little bit faster. She slowly nodded.

  “I mean, not for good,” I said. “I hope. I don’t know.”

  “You need to get away?” Mia asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You need a break from it all.”

  “But I feel like a terrible person for leaving you with the shop.”

  “I can understand that,” Mia said. “But…”

  I took a deep breath. “But I think I have to do this. I was drunk last night.”

  “Me too,” Mia said. “And side note, I’m really sorry for passing out so fast the way I did. I don’t usually drink that much, that fast. I’m such a lightweight now.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m just glad you were here. Mia, I have so much going on around me, I feel like I can’t breathe.”

  “And where exactly are you going to go to breathe?” Mia asked.

  I bit at my bottom lip for a few seconds. “Los Angeles.”

  Mia looked forward.

  She didn’t say a word.

  I counted to five in my head.

  “Okay, you have to say something now,” I said.

  “No, I don’t,” she said.

  “Yes, you do.”

  Mia stood up.

  I grabbed her hand. “Wait.”

  She turned her head and looked down at me. “You’re doing what you need to do.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Never,” she said.

  “I just…”

  “I know,” she said. “I know.”

  “You don’t agree with it.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I agree with or not,” Mia said. She turned and grabbed my hand with both of hers. “See, what makes a best friend the best ever… understanding. I understand. The shop is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Anyone who asks about you, I’ll let them know you’re mourning the loss of your mother.”

  “That means you’ll have to hear about it over and over,” I said.

  “That’s what a best friend is for.”


  I stood up. “Mia… I feel terrible. But I can’t help this. I need to go there. I need to…”

  “Just let me ask one thing.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is this a real thing?” Mia asked. “Are you going there to be with him?”

  “No,” I said. “I feel comfortable with him. Just like I used to feel.”

  “You’re flying in that private, rock star jet, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bree,” Mia said. “Just be yourself. Find yourself. If there’s anything I can do here…”

  “Just keep an eye on this place,” I said. “Throw the dead flowers out. That’s about it.”

  “And what are you going to do with the news you received last night?” Mia asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “What would you do? Would you want to meet your birth parents?”

  “That’s a great question,” she said. “I’m glad I don’t have to answer it.”

  Mia winked at me and walked out of the bedroom.

  There was a part of me that wanted her to get mad at me. To call me crazy for doing this. To tell me this was a bad idea and that my heart was going to get involved. That I was going to get hurt. That the flight back here was going to be lonely, tear filled, and I was going to feel worse when I came back than when I left.

  She didn’t say any of that.

  She left me to think and feel whatever I wanted.

  Which was really scary.

  It was the first conversation I had with my mother since her death.

  It was all still very raw.

  Leaving town so soon probably wasn’t the best look or idea.

  There were things to handle with the lawyer.

  I had to decide what to do with the ashes.

  If I had done things a little more traditional, I wouldn’t have been able to leave. I would have been getting ready for the services…

  I chose to stand at my bedroom window.

  And in my head I talked as though my mother was standing behind me.

  I loved her.

  I missed her.

  I believed that she wouldn’t want me to wander around, sad, depressed, and confused.

  The thought of being in town was just… hard.

  Was I running from my problems?

  Maybe. Just a little though.

  At least I was going somewhere that felt safe.

  Because Sebastian…

  I let out a small gasp.

  I ended the conversation with my mother and ran to the nightstand to get my phone.

 

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