Slay Me (Rock Gods #1)

by Joanna Blake

But it was no use. The spell was broken, their words echoing endlessly on repeat in her head. She stared out the window and relived the scene she'd walked in on at the concert.

  The road crew had been with Nick forever. He considered them all his mates, he even knew them all by name.

  Obviously he'd been talking to them a lot when she wasn't around. She'd come back stage just in time to overhear them talking. About her.

  "Oh come on. You know you wonder how she is in bed."

  "Don't have to. Got the Nick Falcon rank right from the horses mouth."

  "Shut up."

  "Nope. He gave her a ten. Said she was the best lay he'd had in his life."

  "The best? Out of how many?"

  "Thousands mate. He rated her that high."

  "Hell, I'd give her an eight on those tits alone."

  "Amen to that!"

  They were talking about her. Dissecting her like she was a piece of meat.

  But she was.

  They'd said he'd slept with thousands of women. Thousands.

  She'd been with four.

  Sabrina felt ill at the thought. And then it hit her. He hadn't just rated her for their amusement. He'd lumped her in with the rest of them.

  She wasn't special, or different.

  She was just another groupie.

  The dream was over.

  **********

  Nick was frantic on the ride back to the Villa Borghese. He stormed through the hotel lobby until he was in his room. What he saw there send a shiver of ice down his spine.

  Sabrina was leaving him.

  "What are you doing?"

  "What does it look like? I'm packing."

  He grabbed her shoulders.

  "Stop this. Tell me what's wrong."

  "It's good to hear that I rate so high on your ranking system Nick. But I'm not interested in being another number."

  "What are you talking about? You're not a bloody number to me."

  She stared at him coldly.

  "Please let me go."

  He looked down at his hands. He was gripping her shoulders tightly. He forced his hands to relax.

  She stepped away so quickly that he knew he had lost her. He felt like someone had just stabbed him in the gut.

  "Please don't do this Sabrina."

  She didn't look at him, just continued packing until she zipped up her bag. Then she stood up and looked right into his eyes.

  "We both knew this wasn't going anywhere Mr. Falcon. I just got a little wake up call as to why courtesy of your road crew."

  "I'll bloody kill them! What did they say?"

  "It's not their fault really, is it? They were just stating the facts."

  "Please, tell me Sabrina, so I can fix it."

  "You can't fix this, Mr. Falcon. It's not your fault. It's mine. You can't change who you are. I'm the foolish one for thinking you had."

  "Stop bloody calling me that! I'm Nick, remember?"

  He held her by the shoulders again. He could see her eyes were full of unshed tears. And hurt. He'd caused her terrible pain somehow. Slowly he released her.

  She picked up her bag and rolled it toward the front door.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To get a hotel room. Did you think I was leaving? I can't leave, remember? I still have a job to do."

  She stared at him proudly, holding back tears.

  "Unless you want to call Jerry and release me from this joke. I'd- I'd like to go home."

  He stared at her, full of rage. She was taking the only thing that mattered to him away. He gritted his teeth and shook his head slowly.

  "Hell no."

  She stared at him as if he was the lowest form of life known to man.

  Maybe he was.

  He heard the door close behind her as he stared blindly around the room.

  That's when he saw it.

  She'd left behind all the things he had bought her.

  He strode across the room to the bar.

  **********

  Sabrina dabbed makeup under her eyes. She'd been crying and it showed. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her.

  It was a week since they'd broken up, if you could call it that. One horrible week.

  They'd been in Sweden for two days. Nick's concert was that night. She had to go upstairs to make sure he was prepared. Well that wasn't true exactly. He'd sent Marley to demand her presence.

  He'd been doing a lot of that recently. At first he'd called her upstairs and tried to bargain with her, to win her back. It was all a game to him. One he didn't like losing. But she wasn't moved.

  Then he'd started deliberately making her life difficult. He made her ride with him to Berlin but after six uncomfortable hours of silence, he informed her she could ride with the band to Sweden. She'd booked herself a flight and met them there at the Grand Hotel Stockholm.

  For every move he made, she had a counter move. She would never admit it but he was wearing her down. It wouldn't be long before she fell back into his arms.

  Besides, she missed him.

  He'd been drunk and belligerent almost constantly since she'd called things off. Somehow he still drew her to him like a moth to a flame. Now she was worried about him as well. And dreading being forced to watch him take the constant parade of groupies up on their offers of no strings sex. So far he'd turned them all down as far as she could tell, but it was just a matter of time.

  She pulled on her blazer and prepared to face him again. She wasn't sure how many more times she could do this before she begged him to take her back. She could feel herself wanting to do it. She was close to doing anything, humiliating herself in front of him.

  She took the elevator up to the penthouse and pressed the buzzer. Marley smiled at her sadly as he opened the door. There was something apologetic in his eyes as she walked past him.

  In just a second she saw why. Nick was shirtless and working out, doing pushups in the middle of the floor. Empty champagne bottles were everywhere.

  So were girls.

  Three of them to be exact. Sabrina did a double take. They were triplets. Three blond, very buxom triplets.

  She felt an odd twisting feeling in her gut. She stared down at the floor, grasping her leather folio to her chest. Then she opened it and pulled out the schedule for the next few days.

  **********

  Nick watched Sabrina's face carefully. She was standing there, stiffer than a statue. He was hoping for more of a reaction than this. That's why he'd had Marley let the bloody girls in to begin with.

  He was hoping to make her jealous.

  She lifted her eyes and crossed the room to him, holding out a piece of paper. He stood up and leisurely wiped himself down with a towel, making her stand there and wait. His eyes drank the sight of her in. She'd been avoiding him all week, driving him to take more and more drastic measures in his attempts to win her back. He took in the opportunity to look her over, to refresh his memory of what had slipped through his fingers.

  What he had lost.

  That's when he saw it. Her hand was shaking. His eyes jumped to hers, boring into them. She was fighting back tears. She wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended to be.

  He knew it. He felt it in his gut.

  She still wanted him. Even if she didn't want to.

  She definitely did not want to.

  There was something so fragile about her standing there. She looked like she might break into a thousand pieces if he touched her.

  Damn it, he might have pushed this too far.

  He took the paper from her and glanced at it. Anything to get her hand to stop shaking.

  "This looks fine. Thanks."

  "Good. Then I'll just-"

  He stared at her while she floundered for words. Sabrina was never at a loss for something clever to say. That’s part of what he loved about her. Her ready wit and razor sharp mind. She stared at him mutely for another moment. Then she just nodded to herself and turned aw
ay.

  "Sabrina- wait-"

  But she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the triplets. The girls were giggling and preening on the couch, their clothes barely covering their ample assets. He hadn't fucked them. Wasn't going to. But there was no way for her to know that. Or any reason for her to come to any conclusion other than the obvious one.

  Damn it.

  "Sabrina."

  She faced him. Her smile was over bright, forced. He could tell she was hurt. But she also looked relieved somehow. After all, he'd just proven her right, hadn't he?

  "Have a good show tonight Mr. Falcon."

  She left the room then. Marley came back in and gave him a look of supreme disappointment. Nick knew exactly how he felt. He was bloody disappointed in himself.

  He had ten days before this leg of the tour was over. He had time to win her back. He'd tell her tonight that nothing had happened with the girls. That she was the only one he wanted.

  "Get rid of them."

  **********

  Sabrina walked quickly back to her hotel room. She refused to cry until she was safely inside.

  She'd been right about him all along.

  She was obviously a fool and a glutton for punishment.

  She tried to stop the images going through her mind. Nick kissing them, touching them.

  Fucking them.

  She lost the battle, tears streaming down her face as she ran to her room on a lower floor. She'd specifically asked for a room as far from his as possible. So she didn't have to see girls coming and going. But he'd made sure she knew.

  It was her punishment for rejecting him.

  As soon as she was through the door she heard it; the familiar sound of her phone ringing. She must have left it down here. He had her so distracted that she'd lose her head if it wasn't screwed on.

  She ran across the room but the ringing stopped by the time she got there. She glanced at the screen. She'd missed ten calls.

  All from the same number.

  Her aunt.

  Oh god.

  A feeling of dread filled her as she called the number back.

  **********

  Nick was pacing back and forth like a caged lion at feeding time. Sabrina had yet to show up to the stadium. He'd already performed his first set and come off stage expecting to find her waiting.

  That was her job, wasn’t it?

  He needed to see her, to talk to her. So he could explain. He was just trying to get her attention. Make her jealous. That was all. He wouldn't give up on her so easily. Didn't she know that?

  "You have to go back on now mate. Crowd’s getting restless.”

  "Where the hell is she?"

  Marley held out his hands.

  "If you finish this thing, I will find out before you're back off stage."

  Nick grabbed his friend by the shirt.

  "You'll find out now."

  "Okay Nick. You got it. Just relax, I am sure she's fine."

  Relax? Like hell he would. He couldn't. He had a terrible feeling that something was wrong. Other than everything that was already wrong.

  In a few minutes Marley was back. This time his face was white.

  "She checked out of the hotel mate."

  Nick stomach turned over.

  "I knew it. Those bloody triplets were overkill. Damn it. I have to get her back. Text her.”

  "I already tried that. Don't you think I tried that?"

  "Fine. If she wants it this way we'll call Jerry. Get him to fire her if she doesn't come back."

  Marley was looking at him with an odd look on his face.

  "Nick, mate, are you sure you want to do that to the girl? Seems like maybe she's just not cut out for this.”

  Nick was staring at the half full bottle of tequila in his hand. He tilted his head back and poured it down his gullet. Marley was still talking.

  “She’s a decent person Nick. I’m not sure she can take much more of this."

  Nick stared at his own face in the mirror. He was broken inside. He didn't care about anything anymore, he just wanted to lash out. To make her feel as awful as he did.

  "Do it. I'm not going back on stage until its done."

  Marley held his hands in the air, giving in.

  "Have it your way Nick. You always do."

  Fifteen

  Sabrina lay on the floor her childhood bedroom in the attic, listening to music. Her father had passed away peacefully a few days ago. He'd managed to hold out until she got there. Just long enough to say goodbye.

  Now the house was hers. Her aunt had left immediately after the funeral. She said something about having had enough of America. She still had family in the old country. People that Sabrina had never met.

  Sabrina was truly alone.

  For the first time in her life she wasn't sure what she was going to do. Not just yet. And for once, that felt okay.

  She'd been let go from the label. She couldn't fault them for that really. The call had come through when she was waiting for a layover in New York. Then she'd flown to Chicago, before catching a tiny plane to Colorado. It had taken her almost 24 hours to reach home.

  The whole time she'd been mourning her father.

  And Nick.

  It wasn't his fault really. In retrospect she realized that the crew may have been exaggerating. It was idle talk, gossip. She was the one who hadn't given him a chance to explain. She knew now that he'd felt for her what she'd felt for him, or at least something close to it. And she'd destroyed it. What did a rock star do when he got his heart broken?

  Groupies and booze.

  She sighed and picked up another record. The Sex Pistols. It was one that Nick had bought her that day in London. The records and t shirts were the only things she'd taken.

  She hadn't had the heart to leave them behind.

  Her ears perked up. There was a rumbling sound outside. That was odd. The house was in the middle of nowhere on the edge of a ski town. It was the off season though, so it was even more deserted than usual. She hadn't kept up with any of her friends from high school. No one was coming to visit her.

  Sabrina peered out the window.

  A motorcycle was parked outside. Nick rode a motorcycle.

  Sabrina felt something burst open inside her chest. It was hope.

  But it couldn't be. He was supposed to be taking the stage in Madrid tonight. In less than two hours.

  She knew the exact time because she'd been following his schedule the whole time. Even now. Wondering who he was with. If he missed her.

  She had been looking forward to Spain.

  Ding dong

  She raced down the stairs, not bothering to check the mirror. She'd been going through the stuff in the house, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of when she went- where? She wasn't sure but it wouldn't be LA. Her life there held nothing for her anymore.

  Maybe she'd stay in Colorado.

  Or go join the sharks in New York City. She'd had plenty of offers after B school. Maybe some of them were still standing.

  At the moment she couldn't think about any of that though. All she could think about was opening the door.

  She skidded to a halt in the front hall and reached for the doorknob.

  She opened the door and froze.

  Nick Falcon stood there, holding a bouquet of wild flowers. He smiled at her cheekily.

  "Hello love."

  **********

  Nick's heart swelled at the sight of her. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. His precious, perfect girl had dirt on her face.

  Maybe they'd both changed after all.

  He knew he had.

  The look on her face was changing from disbelief to- something else- he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But she hadn't slammed the door in his face. That was a start, if nothing else.

  "Hi Nick."

  He breathed out. He realized he’d been unconsciously holding his breath. She had used his name though. That was a good sign.

  He said a silent
prayer of thanks to the heavenly mother. And to his own mum, who had encouraged him to drop everything and come after her.

  Not that he was ever going to do anything else.

  "Can I come in?"

  She nodded and stood aside. She was wearing jeans and a ratty old sweater over a rock t shirt. He recognized it as the one he'd bought her in Camden market.

  A very good sign indeed.

  He held out the flowers after she'd closed the door.

  "I was sorry to hear about your father."

  She took the flowers and lifted her soft, beautiful eyes to his.

  "Thank you Nick. You didn't have to come all this way just because of that."

  "I didn't."

  She was staring back at him with a look that mirrored his own. Cautiously optimistic.

  "Come into the kitchen."

  He trailed her through the well kept home. It was full of antiques and hadn't been updated in twenty years. But it was sparklingly clean and looked homey.

  Cozy.

  He liked it he realized. Better than that cold empty house he had overlooking the Pacific.

  "I wrote a new song."

  "That's good Nick. You should be writing."

  She was putting his flowers into a vase. He noticed how careful she was, as if they were roses from the finest florist in London instead of flowers he'd picked along the roadside while he gathered his nerve.

  "It's called 'Cold Mistress.' Do you want me to play it for you?"

  She glanced at him.

  "Not right now. But thanks."

  "I've been thinking I should stop touring. Get back into the studio. It's been years since I released anything."

  She gestured to the kitchen table and he sat.

  "I think that's a great idea Nick. Do you want coffee?"

  He shook his head.

  "Tea?"

  "I'm fine. Are you going to offer me anything else?"

  She gave a startled laugh from where she leant against the counter. Minimum safe distance he supposed. Not that he blamed her.

  "What do you mean?"