Torn to Pieces (The Boys of DownCrash #2) (new adult contemporary romance / rockstar romance)

by Casey, London

  Torn to Pieces(The Boys of DownCrash #2)

  Trying to forget about the promises she was forced to make as a young, naive eighteen year old, Maggie creates a false persona that paints her as the girl who never says no...

  However, once she lays eyes on the drummer of DownCrash, everything clicks. From his sexy lip ring to the way he stares at her from the stage, Tatum becomes everything Maggie has ever fantasized about.

  When trouble catches up to her in a parking garage after a DownCrash show, and Tatum shows up out of nowhere to protect her. For the first time in years, she is intimidated by a man's kindness and sexiness, and not by his temper and jealousy. As real feelings begin to grow Maggie is faced with her past and wonders if she'll ever be able to escape the promises she once made to keep the promises she wants to make right now.

  Prologue

  Keep your promises, always.

  I can see it in his eyes. The way he talks, the way he walks, the way the world treats him. He’s the only person I’ve met who can possibly convince everyone that the world actually does revolve around him.

  His hands are in fists, hanging dangerously at his sides.

  What can I do? Right now? Nothing.

  I can only wait.

  I can only stare into his eyes. My hopes are that someday I’ll be as good of a liar as him, able to trick him with my eyes, like he does to me.

  He raises a fist into the air. I count four big knuckles, his middle knuckle bigger, like a giant marble. How many times have I seen that knuckle smashing into bone? Into a wall? Into a lip or two?

  That’s just how someone controls the world though, isn’t it?

  His hand pops open and he wiggles his fingers, all the while I gasp and try to catch my breath.

  “Damn, girl, you’re wound up tonight... aren’t you?”

  I nod.

  Always answer the question.

  Always.

  His hand touches my face. He leans in and I catch the scent of his cologne. It’s the same cologne from the first night we met. That intoxicating smell that reminds me of a bad-boy with a heart, if that at all makes sense. But it’s what I feel when I smell it. I can’t believe it still makes me smile.

  “There’s nothing to worry about tonight,” he whispers, his forehead touching mine.

  When we first did this, it was so romantic. He stared at me then, that time that feels like a lifetime ago, and he tore me to pieces. And I loved it then.

  “We just have to keep our promises,” he says.

  He moves his head so he can kiss my nose.

  I smile.

  “Okay? Do you understand me, Maggie?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I understand. I... promise...”

  We stare at each other in silence now, two liars, one broken heart, and a life that will forever haunt me.

  ~1~

  It sometimes amazed me at how fast life could change. Like someone found the button to time and decided to turn it up a few notches, letting the world spin faster, the sun and moon playing a game of see-saw, the wind whipping with just a little more force. My stomach sometimes felt it, churning when I thought about everything happening at once.

  Scarlett had been ready an hour ago and finally decided to leave to go to the show extra early. Being with Tripp - officially, that is - allowed her to hang with the boys of DownCrash when she wanted, including before, during, and after their shows. Not that the band played arenas or stadiums, but it was pretty cool watching Scarlett go in the back rooms of some of these places and hang out. Have a beer. A shot of whiskey. A shot of Tripp...

  Each time I thought about it, I pictured Tatum. The tall, wide, lip pierced drummer of DownCrash. It should have been a good thought but with Tatum came the image of Scarlett kissing him. She had apologized a dozen times over and even begged me to let her introduce me to Tatum again, now that she knew I thought he was super sexy. But I refused. I didn’t want to be a favor owed, not to Scarlett, not to Tripp, not to Tatum, not to DownCrash.

  Plus, after admitting that my certain wild lifestyle really wasn’t so wild, nothing felt right inside me. For years I carried the stigma of being a party girl and yes, the image of being a slut. It never bothered me knowing people thought that or even called me a slut, because I knew the truth. I wasn’t a slut. I liked boys and I liked flirting with them. Whatever happened after they got drunk and whatever they woke up thinking, that was their problem, not mine.

  I left my bedroom and walked into the bathroom into a hazy fog of whatever Scarlett had been spraying herself with. She was like a teenage boy with the cans of body spray. I coughed and waved my hands before finally turning on the bathroom air vent.

  That was a horrible idea.

  I don’t know how our apartment building had been built but when we turned on the bathroom vent, it somehow picked up the unique odors of the apartments around us... mixing the kitchen smells with the bathroom smells. It was a vile mix of odor, but it stung my nose a little less than all the perfume and sprays Scarlett had used before leaving.

  I fixed my hair, fighting with it for only a few minutes before just letting it down. Wherever it landed, that’s where it stayed. I made it look a little messy which actually didn’t take much effort at all. I wasn’t going out tonight to live up to my reputation. I wanted to go see DownCrash. This was their biggest show to date, playing a sports bar called Un. The place was lined with televisions and attracted a lot of hot guys from on and off campus, but like I said, I wasn’t going out for that. I feared getting tied up with a guy right then. All the hype and image behind me... Maggie, the easy girl... seemed just too easy to tempt.

  Would it be so wrong to indulge?

  People already thought it... picking up a guy would be easy...

  Then a wicked thought came to me. I thought about Scarlett and Tripp, how they started fooling around. She had been in the crowd at a DownCrash show. Tripp saw her with someone touching her.

  What if I picked up a guy and went near the stage? To tease Tatum? My cheeks started to flush as I thought about it. Tatum standing from the drum kit, on stage, looking twenty feet tall. Sweating. Angry. His sexy eyes pounding at me...

  Then again, did Tatum even remember me?

  We met a couple times and that was it. We talked and flirted, I’m sure because of my reputation.

  Whatever, none of it really mattered.

  My head spun as fast as my stomach did. Watching Scarlett fall in love on top of some drama back home with one of my closest friends had me up to my limit.

  All I needed was a night out. A calm night out.

  ~2~

  I understood why Scarlett had gotten pissy with me when I didn’t want to leave when she did. Finding a place to park near Un was terrible. I couldn’t even make it to the street where the sports bar stood, the amount of people flooding out and around the place was nothing I’d ever seen before.

  Were they all here for DownCrash?

  We really didn’t have a huge athletic program on campus so having a crowd that big for a baseball game wouldn’t happen. Even for professional sports - whatever was in season - wouldn’t attract a crowd like that.

  I knew it was all for DownCrash.

  I parked three blocks away, watching the last few breaths of the day come as deep colors against the horizon before the day exhaled its last breath, taking all the light. I walked as fast as I could, hating walking alone. Even with streetlights I hated it. I always felt watched and of course, my mind started to remind me of every h
orror movie that had a scene like this.

  I fumbled for my cell and sent a text to Scarlett.

  This place is insane. Where are you?

  I looked around and saw people lingering, walking, chatting. Some guys. Some girls. A few of the guys looked at me and nodded. They always did. All the guys. Even guys who were with their girlfriends would make it a point to check me out. I’d never say I’m pretty and I’d never say I have the biggest chest or the nicest butt or flirty eyes, but when you had a reputation like I did, the mind could perceive anything it wanted.

  I usually enjoyed the attention but to be honest, it freaked me out then.

  Scarlett finally texted me back.

  In back, with the boys. Are you out front?

  My fingers went to work.

  Walking. Parked two cities away. Can you sneak me in?

  I turned the corner and never felt so relieved to see so many people at once. They stood on the sidewalks, they overtook the streets, so much so that on top of campus security the local police showed up. No lights were flashing but two officers strolled through the street, trying to keep everyone on the sidewalks.

  But it was impossible.

  And the officers knew it. When they reached the end of the crowd, they turned, looked around, checking for fights, and then walked the same path, waving and yelling, forcing everyone to shuffle back to the sidewalk.

  My phone vibrated in my hand.

  Go to the side of the building. I’ll be there.

  More relief flooded my body. I walked faster, tucking my phone in my pocket. I didn’t carry a purse and I didn’t have a need for a bulky bag. I had my ID in a side pocket and my car key in the same. I didn’t bring any money and when I realized it, it almost caused me to halt in my tracks.

  It had become so natural to expect everything from everyone... I swallowed and had the sudden urge to cry. Not having money in my pocket shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. I could borrow from Scarlett or flirt my way into drinking for free all night (which a lot of girls did), but it really hit home. Because it was the first time in a long time I realized just how pathetic I felt.

  By the time I saw Scarlett, I started to run and didn’t stop until I almost collapsed into her arms.

  “Whoa, Maggie, what’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “So many people out there...”

  “I know! Tripp told me he passed out like a thousand flyers and had friends tell friends.”

  “A thousand flyers?” I asked. “When did he have time for that?”

  “I sort of... went to his classes to help him out.”

  “You took notes for your boyfriend?” I teased.

  “Shut up,” Scarlett said.

  We laughed and I could see the look in Scarlett’s eyes. She would do anything for Tripp. Literally anything. That’s what she told me - usually twice a day - and that’s what she told me happened when I caught her kissing Tatum. It was hot to think about being with a band, being able to enjoy and even share, but I wanted to be the one in the middle of that sensual storm.

  Ugh.

  I hated myself for getting jealous.

  Each time I looked at Scarlett, my heart battled itself. Part of me wanted to see Scarlett, my roommate. The good girl I had always known. The girl who found love in the darkest place, laced with pain, filled with regret, yet somehow made it work. Part of my heart then wanted to twist and scream, hating that she got Tripp, because I wanted my savior to come rescue me.

  But I would never... not even Tatum.

  Nobody wanted to deal with me.

  “Come on,” Scarlett said, “let’s go see the band.”

  She pulled and I followed. When the door thundered shut behind us, I finally smiled. It was nice to be inside, nice to be with the band, and nice to see Tatum again.

  DownCrash was in a small room that had white and brown checkered tile floors, dirty white stone walls, and a stench of mildew and dust. They all looked like rockstars, the excitement of the show pretty obvious.

  “I’m sure you all remember Maggie,” Scarlett announced.

  I stood then as the center of attention for Tripp, Logan, and Tatum as they stared at me, remembering who I was. I had no doubts they’d remember me in the sense that I was the girl who brought that crazy guy to their band practice. Tatum ended up punching Scarlett’s friend, Andy, in the face. It turned me on, more than it should have. I’m not a person of violence by any means but thinking about big, strong Tatum defending someone...

  “Hey Maggie,” Tatum said and smiled.

  “Hi,” I said, addressing the entire band.

  I noticed Tatum flicking his tongue at his lip ring. I glanced at Scarlett and my insides burned. She had gotten to taste that lip ring, even if it was only for a few seconds.

  I wanted my turn with Tatum.

  “Don’t be shy,” Scarlett said, elbowing me.

  I elbowed her back and stared daggers at her.

  “Look,” Tatum said, “they’re talking through the eyes, like chicks do.”

  “Chicks?” I turned my daggers to the gorgeous drummer.

  “Yeah,” Tatum said. “Chicks...”

  He stepped towards me. The instant sexual tension pulled and I exhaled a breath that came out as a sigh.

  “Don’t mind her,” Scarlett said. “She didn’t listen to me when I told her to be ready. She had to park a few blocks away and she’s mad about walking.”

  “You poor thing,” Tatum said as his eyes danced up and down my body.

  I never felt a surge of heat like I did then. Even though it only lasted a few seconds before Tripp hit Tatum’s shoulder, demanding his attention to discuss the band’s setlist for the night, it had done its job.

  “This is so cool, right?” Scarlett asked, putting her lips too close to my ear.

  I winced because it tickled and saw Tatum straining his eyes to watch me and Scarlett.

  “It’s cool,” I said. “Are we staying back here?”

  “No,” Scarlett said. “We’ll go out in a few. I want to watch... from a distance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it gets to me a little. Seeing all those girls grabbing for Tripp. And plus, if I’m too close, I just might have to climb the stage...”

  “Ew, stop it,” I whispered.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Scarlett said and nodded towards Tatum.

  He stared at me, his head turned now, tuning Tripp out.

  “Dude, come on,” Tripp yelled.

  “I got it,” Tatum said. “Just relax, okay?”

  “Let’s jam,” Logan said. “Just to get the nerves out.”

  “Good call,” Tatum said.

  I watched the band split up and each grab a guitar. The back two corners of the room was stocked with instruments, amps, mic stands, mics, cords, and cables, anything a musician could possibly need for a show.

  They each took a seat and Tatum and Logan plugged in electric guitars, tuning them while Tripp adjusted the bright red strap on a black acoustic guitar. He tuned up and started strumming chords, yelling for Tatum and Logan to follow him. In a matter of seconds, what once had been random notes, bending and crying, turned into music.

  Just like that.

  Like a small spark that ignites a bon fire.

  Scarlett tugged at my wrist and said, “Let’s go now.”

  “I want to watch,” I said.

  “You can, out there.”

  I started to back up, listening as Tripp belted out lyrics. The clean versions of DownCrash songs were as potent as the versions with drums, bass, and distorted guitar. I couldn’t keep my eyes off them, all three playing, not missing a single note. I watched Tatum strum and change chords, so easily. I looked at a pair of drumsticks resting on top of a black gym bag. The fact that Tatum could play guitar that well and then get behind a drum kit and rock was a major turn on.

  I finally turned around to follow Scarlett but not before looking over my shoulder one last time.
/>   Tatum faced Tripp, joining in on the chorus of the song, but his eyes... they were all over me.

  ~3~

  Scarlett stood shoulder to shoulder with me. We were near the side of the stage, probably not the best place to enjoy the concert but considering Scarlett was fucking the lead singer, we sort of had all access to DownCrash.

  “Drinks?” Scarlett asked.

  I nodded and put up one finger. That’s all I’d drink. I couldn’t risk anything crazy happening or doing something stupid.

  Scarlett slipped away and in a matter of two seconds, someone took her place. I felt a shoulder bump into me and looked up to find a cocky face staring down at me.

  “Danny, right?” I asked, recognizing him.

  He played baseball, pitcher, I think. Tall, good boy looks, bad boy intentions. That whole athletic thing I’d been through a dozen times or so in my life.

  “Why are you alone?” Danny asked.

  “Waiting for a drink,” I said.

  “On a date?”

  “Does that matter at all?”

  Danny looked around and then back down at me. “Maybe, maybe not. Hey, when this is over, want to come to a party with me?”

  “A party?”

  “Yeah. Johnny’s place. You know Johnny, right? He’s got the house on Johnson Drive he splits with Petey and Nicky.”

  I nodded and smiled. I hated how the jocks always had some kind of dumb nicknaming system they used. The football players were usually one word, something to describe what they do... like Crusher or Hammer... please, give me a break. The baseball players and lacrosse guys just added a ‘y’ to everyone’s name. No matter how terrible it sounded, they did it. A lot of girls bought into it and hell, if it were a month ago, I’d probably buy into it.

  But I wasn’t in the mood.

  “It’ll be fun,” Danny said. “Lots of room at Johnny’s. Lots to drink. Lots to do...”

  Danny bumped his shoulder into me as his lips puckered a little.

  Was this his move?

  Was this the crap I fell for?