Pushing Arlo: A Rock Star Romance (Heartless Few Book 3)

by MV Ellis

  “The biggest shift is that I’m moving back to New York. I mean, I guess that’s obvious by the fact that I asked London to move in with me here, but anyway, I guess you can say I’ve moved back already. I’m going to start using my office at the club for something other than storage, and I’ll be taking on a more hands-on role there. Hunter is nailing the running of the place, but I think I can put his skills to even better use elsewhere in my businesses. I haven’t told him yet, so if you do happen to run into him by some fluke, don’t spill your guts.”

  As everyone makes their way back to their seats, I carry on.

  “So the net-net of all that is that even with me taking on more responsibility at the club, you’re gonna be seeing more of me around here than you ever used to, and I guess you’re just gonna have to deal with it, suckers!” Predictably, they all look like I’ve just given them an STI. They can go fuck themselves with a rusty screwdriver.

  Stevie is the first to speak.

  “Wow. You know, I got on really well with London when we were on tour. She’s mad smart, funny, and warm, but obviously doesn’t take any shit, least of all from you. And of course, she’s hot as living fuck.”

  I clench my fists and shoot him a look that I hope conveys the depth of my hatred for him right now. He shrugs, grinning like the cat that got the whole fucking dairy, not just the cream. Even though I know he’s just being an ass, trying to push my buttons, it’s still working. I don’t otherwise acknowledge that he’s spoken, which he takes as his cue to continue poking the bear.

  “But even with all that, I must have really underestimated her, because I never thought I’d see the day when the great Arlo Jones would wake up, smell the espresso martini, and realize what an epic asshat he is. Am I right?” He looks to the other boys for backup. Everybody nods as though their lives depend on it. Bunch of jerks.

  I scowl at him and leer at the rest of them. “Listen, man, I said I’m going to try to be a little less of a dick. I don’t remember saying anything about turning into a complete pussy, and I’m damn sure I didn’t say anything about not whooping your ass if you carry on trash-talking me. I’ll let that one through the keeper for free, but you better watch yourself in the future, because next time I won’t be so nice about it.”

  “Nice,” Stevie mutters under his breath.

  Fuck that asshole.

  “But yeah, you’ve nailed it, Stevie. London’s this tiny little Pandora’s box of a person, but you take the lid off and boom! There’s an explosive firecracker.”

  She’s kicked my ass like nobody ever has. She had me on the ropes from day one, and I’m not out of the woods yet. I guess I’ve been in my corner tending to my wounds, but now I feel like I have a plan that will get me back into the fight. Skin. In. The. Game.

  That said, as things currently stand, nothing with her is certain. Not even close.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So one of the reasons I called this meeting, apart from spilling my guts to you all like a big crybaby, was to ask for your help. I’m gonna need you to tie up these last few loose ends on the album without as much input from me as you normally have. I need to take care of business elsewhere, you know? I’m going to be focusing on doing everything in my power over the next few weeks to get my house in order, figuratively and literally, so when London comes back from Down Under, she’ll see things have changed and she’ll consider letting me be part of hers and Squirt’s lives.”

  “Wait, who the fuck is Squirt?”

  I look across at Ryan.

  “Well, dumbass, I don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl, and have no contact with London to start thinking of names either way, so right now, I’m calling this baby Squirt.”

  The boys snicker. I guess it is kind of an ironic name for an unplanned baby.

  “First housekeeping priority is to end this shit show with Marnie once and for all. London is adamant that the split is less about the video and more about the craziness of my life in general. In her mind, the video is just one example of that. She has a point, of course. This shit has been our ‘normal’ for so long that it can be easy to forget how overwhelming it can all be if you’re not used to it.”

  I guess it’s hard for any of us to think about it this way. We’ve been in the game since we were just kids. We basically grew up together in the industry, so this is almost all we know. While we realize it’s not how everyone lives, it’s hard for us to see it through their eyes because it’s been so long since we’ve seen it that way ourselves. It’s not like London is some country bumpkin straight off the bus from Kansas, either. Until her car accident, she was a professional ballet dancer, and like us, she’s toured the world for work. Having said that, I get the feeling that touring with a ballet company and with a band are two very different animals.

  After shadowing us on the tour, I’m pretty sure London’s overall impression of us—with the exception of Jake—is that we’re feral man-whores rampaging around the world doing whatever and whomever the fuck we like. In some senses that’s a fairly accurate view, but in other ways, she’s so far off base, it’s not even funny. Even on a wild day now, we’re so much mellower than we were when we were starting out.

  Jake has his wife and the kids, and is just about ready for retirement, the way he carries on sometimes. Stevie is a changed man now that he’s sober. Luke is… Luke. Ryan has always been way too smart to get into much trouble. Now that I have London, there’s nothing that gets my blood pumping—mostly straight to my dick—more than the thought of being with her. Whenever, wherever, however. Now with little Squirt in the mix, it’s a whole different ball game again. Our worst hell-raising days are well and truly behind us, for sure.

  Of course it wasn’t always like this, and as young bucks on the road, you can be sure we took advantage of all the “delights” that the rock star lifestyle had to offer, and then some. There are stories I could tell London, but never will, that would have her refusing to speak to me for a whole lot of other reasons than the ones she already has. It’s a good thing that what happens on tour stays on tour. As for the shit that happens at home, I guess I’m just going to have to hope she never finds out most of that, either.

  “She said she doesn’t care if Marnie and I did or didn’t get together again after I was with her, but I’m calling bullshit on that. Of course it fucking matters if I cheated on her, and with Marnie of all people. If I can categorically prove that I didn’t fuck Marnie or anyone else after we were together, it’s one more thing going for me instead of against me.” I look around the room. Everyone is listening intently, Luke more so than anybody.

  “I guess that’s going to be life with London—a series of challenges designed to show her I’m not as much of an oxygen thief as I seem to the outside world. At least that’s the way it’s been so far. I guess until she can fully trust me, I need to be prepared to earn my stripes every fucking day. Who knew that all these years of embracing the bad boy thing would eventually come back and bite me in the ass? I guess it’s karma, but if it means I get my girl, I’m gonna pay my dues, no matter what it takes. It’s a small price to pay, right?”

  Jake nods slowly. He’s really the only one who knows what it’s like to work hard to be with somebody. Things between him and Kris haven’t always been easy, but they’re rock-solid now after all these years.

  “Basically, I want to shut the whole incident down and show London that it doesn’t mean shit—it’s just an unfortunate and badly timed blip. Really meaningless, and really badly timed. The sooner we forget about it and move on, the better. The lawyers are on the case as we speak, and I’ve told them to spare no expense and leave no stone unturned. I want this thing gone so we can move the fuck on with our lives.”

  Luke looks at me as though I just filled his boxers with poison ivy. I hold his stare, daring him to say something—contradict me or question me. He remains silent, clearly valuing his head attached to his body.

  “They’ve brought a private dick i
n to do some digging, and he has a team of techy geeks who do shit with data that I don’t even understand. He has already tracked her down, so at least we know where to serve papers to when the time comes. The nerds have also unearthed some interesting evidence about the video. It doesn’t look like Marnie was responsible for circulating it—she may have been hacked, and the video leaked. Still, I’m 100 percent sure she was the one who shot it, without my consent. And I can’t stop thinking about the fact that if it weren’t for her and her stupid fucking antics, London and Squirt would still be with me right now. Ironic, really, that London’s the one I want and she’s gone, while I’ve never wanted Marnie and she’s still hanging around.”

  Luke clears his throat a few times, and I shoot a look his way. What’s his fucking problem?

  “Something to say there, douchey?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  This should be interesting.

  “Well, come on, dear brother of mine, don’t keep me hanging, I’m all ears. Shoot.” I can see a confrontation brewing, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s going to get ugly. I just can’t work out Luke’s angle.

  “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m wondering if you shouldn’t cut Marnie some slack instead of going all A Few Good Men on her ass with a lawsuit. I mean, it just seems a little harsh after all these years of friendship. Surely there’s a better way to deal with the situation?”

  “Are you for real right now? You’re reminding me about the years of friendship between us? Is that some kind of sick fucking joke? Where were those years of friendship when she was recording us fucking without my knowledge? Or how about when said footage was leaked to the press and drove a wedge a mile wide between me and my woman and our unborn child. Where was our friendship then? What about when I was trying to contact her to talk about it and she completely ghosted me?”

  “She didn’t know about the baby. Nobody did.”

  “But she knew I was serious about London. Am serious about her. She was the first person I told, for fuck’s sake.”

  “She’s really sorry for what she did.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

  “She can tell that to the judge when she finds herself in court over it.” Something shifts in my mind, and a thought suddenly comes to me. Like cherries lining up on a Vegas slot machine, everything falls into place in my mind. Fuck.

  “Wait. How do you know all that?” I stalk toward Luke with intent.

  “I’ve seen her.”

  For a moment I feel like the world has tipped off its axis. Literally like the room is spinning.

  “What the fuck did you just say? Because it sounded a hell of a lot like you admitted to having seen Marnie. But that can’t have been it, because that would make you a two-faced Judas motherfucker, posing as my responsible, loving, and loyal twin brother.”

  “I have.” The silence in the room is so heavy you could cut it with a chainsaw.

  Before I know it, I’m launching myself across the small space toward Luke. I don’t remember making a conscious effort to move, but nevertheless, it happens before I can stop myself. I want to kill this motherfucker. So much for new Zen Arlo.

  Luckily, I guess, Jake and Ryan spring into action; Jake stands in front of Luke, barring my access to him, while Ryan faces off with me, shoulders and feet set firm, clearly not about to yield. In fact, he gets up close and personal, then starts walking toward me, forcing me to step backward each time he steps forward. He does this until I’m physically as far from Luke as possible in the tiny break room. I make a mental note that Ryan is definitely on my shit list for the foreseeable.

  Luke carries on speaking from across the room.

  “I worked it out a few days after she took off and we couldn’t find her. You know I went by the apartment a few times and she wasn’t there, and the modeling agency couldn’t or wouldn’t tell us where she was. I called back again, telling them I had concerns for her safety, which was true, and the chick I spoke to confirmed that they’d dropped her contract earlier in the year. I started to worry for real. I mean, if she wasn’t at her apartment and she wasn’t working, where the fuck was she? I figured she was probably at a hotel somewhere, which in this city would make finding her like looking for a needle in a haystack—and that was assuming she was here, not elsewhere in the country, or even the world.

  “Then I had a flash of inspiration and remembered the old cottage her grandma had on Long Island back in the day. It seemed like the perfect place to go to lie low. I had only been there once or twice as a kid, but by some miracle, I managed to remember the street it was on. I went there on a whim, and when I arrived, I recognized the place straightaway. I knocked on the door, and sure enough, there she was. Since I found her, any time not spent here working on the album, I’ve been there with her.”

  That makes sense of his absence from Rosemond House these past few weeks. Here I was thinking he was being his usual thoughtful self, keeping out of my way and giving me space to fix my shit, when in reality he’s been hiding out with Marnie, stabbing me in the back with her.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything? I specifically asked if you would tell me if you knew anything, and you said yes, you fuckstain.” I step forward, but Ryan moves toward me again, forcing me back. He can seriously go choke on a fat one.

  “Yeah. I know. And at the time you asked me, I genuinely didn’t know where she was. Then I went to her, and I discovered that she’s not in great shape. She’s…. Maybe she’s having a breakdown, or a midlife crisis or some shit. I don’t know, man, but I do know that she feels terrible about what she did, and all the trouble it’s caused. That definitely wasn’t her intention. I know it looks bad, but I wasn’t doing it to betray you. I honestly just didn’t think it would help anyone—you, her, or London—to have you unleashing your wrath on her, so I made the call not to tell you. I mean, what were you going to say to her anyway? Were you going to try to get her to sign an affidavit explaining the nature of that video to London, or what?”

  “Honestly, at that stage, I hadn’t gotten that far in my thinking. I had no fucking clue. I just knew I was angry as shit.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I’m still angry now, but with this new information, this new deception, I’m seriously at a loss as to what to think and who to believe. Since my dad died, trust hasn’t been an easy thing for me. Losing him at such a young age was like life’s ultimate slap in the face. Subconsciously I learned that the fewer people you let get close to you, the less chance you have of being let down by them, or by life. In the past few weeks, I’ve been reminded of this more so than ever. The secrets and lies with Luke, Marnie, even London have been punishing.

  My inner circle has always been small, and I realized pretty quickly that in this industry, the smart people who live to tell the tale play their cards close to their chests and trust almost nobody. Mom, Gramps, Luke, the guys, Hunter, and yes, Marnie—that was pretty much it. Even though sex had been the glue that kept mine and Marnie’s friendship together, it was still a connection. Apart from my mom, she was the only woman I was close to in any way until London.

  No, we didn’t date, or spoon, or hold hands in public, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t share things with her that I didn’t disclose to anyone else. She was the first goddamn person I told that I love London, for Christ’s sake, and look how that turned out. We had started sleeping together just after Dad’s death. I was young and angry, and at a total loss as to what to do with the toxic mix of emotions raging inside me. I channeled most of that negative energy into music, but what I couldn’t express in the form of a song, I poured into her. She had been a crutch when I would have otherwise fallen down. I learned that music and sex cured pretty much all my ills.

  What I could never really understand, but also was never concerned enough to think about more than briefly, was what was in it for her apart from multiple orgasms. She served a purpose for me, but what was she getting in return?

  Luk
e carries on. “Right. So you can understand that exposing her to you in that state of mind would have hurt her. I made the call not to let that happen. I also honestly wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t say or do something that both of you would both regret. Ironically, I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, trying to look out for both of you.”

  I want to kill him.

  “Hurt her? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? You’ve seen what this whole thing has done to London, and therefore to me, and you want to worry about hurting her? You get that she’s the antagonist in all this, right? The one who betrayed my trust?” I spit the words his way.

  “Yeah, I get it, but I worry about her… and want to protect her regardless. Even more so now that I know you’re planning to fucking sue her ass from here to China. I mean, Jesus, she’s fragile as fuck and hanging on by a thread as it is. Dragging her name through a court case would probably break her completely, not to mention the financial implications. She’s done well from modeling over the years, of course she has, but her contract has ended and the future for her is uncertain. A lawsuit like this would be water off a duck’s back to you, but it could ruin her in so many different ways. Is that what you really want?”

  I’m in utter disbelief at what I’m hearing. There have been times in my life when I have literally hated Luke. I mean, we couldn’t live under the same roof because our parents genuinely feared for our safety. We were testosterone-filled, ego-driven punks. Not much has changed over the years, but the homicidal tendencies have mostly passed, and even though I don’t always like him, I know I can rely on him no matter what.

  Well, that’s the snake oil he’s been peddling all these years, but now I see that’s all it was. An illusion. A front. Luke was the ultimate wolf in sheep’s clothing. A conjurer. To the whole world, I was the bad boy of the two of us. The one who couldn’t be trusted. The one who needed to be watched, while Luke was the “nice” one, the responsible, selfless one. The one people would happily bring home to Mom. I was the black sheep.