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

by Casey, London

  “I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” Danny said.

  “I am,” I said. I smiled, hoping to keep the situation calm.

  Danny stepped towards me, his right hand extending, the tips of his fingers touching my face.

  “And I wanted to make sure you were alone,” he whispered.

  He licked his lips and took his hand off my face. His body stiffened, flexing his large muscles. I’d be no match against him and Danny knew that which is why he took another step towards me. It left inches between us.

  “Come on, Maggs,” he said, “I get how it was in there. You didn’t want to look easy in front of so many people. That’s fine.”

  “I’m not going to a party,” I said. “I’m going home.”

  “That’s great,” Danny said.

  His words slurred and he put both hands to my waist. I shuddered with fear and felt too many emotions crashing into me at once. I closed my eyes and hoped that when I opened my eyes he’d be gone. There was no way this could be happening...

  But it was.

  Danny still stood there when I opened my eyes.

  Fuck.

  He got closer, erasing those few inches between us. His body touched mine and he forced his lower half against me, to show me what he had waiting. I tried to thrust backwards, not wanting to feel anything of Danny’s, but I had no choice.

  “I don’t want go to that party,” Danny said. “Bunch of fucking jocks, right?”

  “Aren’t you a jock?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. But right now, I’m going to fuck you. Then we can talk about me being a jock.”

  “Sorry,” I said, “not in the mood.”

  I tried to slide to my right and Danny forced his weight against me. His hands rested near the top of my car and he held me in place with his body.

  “I didn’t ask if you were in the mood,” Danny said. “I said I’m going to fuck you.”

  “And she already said no.”

  I looked to my left and gasped when I saw the tall silhouette coming from the darkness. It was like an erotic dream come true watching Tatum walk slowly towards my car. His long arms were at his sides, a fresh t-shirt hugging his body. White looked great on him. A pair of drumsticks stuck out of his back pocket and when Danny saw Tatum, he laughed.

  “Dude, fuck off,” Danny said. “Okay? You can go fuck any chick in that place.”

  “Sure I can,” Tatum said. “And maybe I will, once you let Maggie get in her car and leave.”

  “I’m leaving with her,” Danny said. “We’re just playing around, right Maggs?”

  I shook my head. Fear had taken my voice. Fear had taken me back to my life before college, to a time when I thought I had freedom. I could lick the wind of freedom, see it too, but I couldn’t get it.

  Tatum touched Danny on the shoulder and Danny dropped his shoulder and swung. Being sober, Tatum backed up with ease and Danny swung at nothing.

  “I already told you,” Danny growled.

  “So did I,” Tatum said.

  I don’t know what got into me right then but I lifted my left knee and connected with Danny. In my head, it was a direct shot to his nuts, and then he’d keel over and be done. He’d run away and never bother me again. Wasn’t that how it happened in the movies?

  Yeah, well that’s not how it works in real life.

  My knee came up and hit Danny, but not directly in the nuts. I hit his inner thigh. He did jump back, trying to protect his manhood, but when he looked at me, his lip snarled, and I knew he was going to hit me. I froze, unable to defend myself... promises, Maggie, all of us keep our promises...

  “You fucking bitch,” Danny growled and lunged at me.

  I saw everything happen as though it was slow motion. Tatum’s right fist came forward and connected with Danny’s face, spinning him around and spraying blood. Danny went down to one knee and then was back up a second later. His unstoppable, never-beat-me jock attitude now had Danny’s eyes set on Tatum.

  “You’re fucking dead,” Danny said.

  He swung at Tatum and Tatum swung too. Danny’s fist hit Tatum in the mouth but Tatum’s fist connected with Danny’s nose. Danny cried out and fell forward, into Tatum, burying his face in Tatum’s shirt. Tatum then pushed Danny back and when he looked at me, he must have seen the fear pouring from my face.

  Tatum swung again, one more shot for good measure, taking Danny down for good. Tatum then stood over Danny and grabbed his shirt, lifting him off the ground. Blood smeared all over Danny’s face and his eyes were no longer tough. They were scared. They were honest.

  “If you even as much as look at Maggie again,” Tatum said, “you’ll never play baseball again. Got it?”

  Danny nodded.

  Tatum slammed Danny off the ground and lifted him again.

  “Do you understand?” Tatum yelled.

  “Yes,” Danny said. “Yes, I get it. I get it. Okay, man? Fuck.”

  “Yeah. Fuck is right.”

  Tatum released Danny again and then tapped him with his shoe. Danny rolled to his side and fought to get up. He stumbled into a wall to brace himself, wiping his face, looking at the blood. He started to murmur something and then stood up, his left hand flat against the wall, and he looked at both Tatum and I.

  “Say something,” Tatum said. “I dare you.”

  Danny didn’t say a word. He just shook his head and trotted away. Watching him try to run drunk and bloody was actually kind of funny but when I thought about what could have just happened, my knees started to give out.

  Tatum was right there though, his big hands at my arms, keeping me up.

  “Are you okay, Maggie?” he asked.

  I looked into his eyes and shook my head. “No...”

  “What an asshole,” Tatum said. “I hate that guy. I hate jocks.”

  “I hate myself,” I whispered.

  I looked down, feeling more defeated than ever. What had started as a little game, making myself sound promiscuous and fun, turned into this mess. Turned into guys thinking they could just pin me against my car and dry hump me for fun. Turned into all the pain I secretly carried becoming like a giant boulder on my back, weighing me down.

  “You hate yourself?” Tatum asked. “Why?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Danny just thought I was someone else...”

  “No he didn’t. He thought he was some fucking untouchable jock that could position himself over women. I wonder how many times he’s done that and gotten away with it.”

  I nodded, my head still down. I couldn’t face Tatum. Not like this. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable. This wasn’t how I imagined my first moments with Tatum should have been. Not like this. Not with pain, regret, and emotion.

  “Maggie, look at me,” Tatum said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to. You can go, okay? Thank you for helping me. I just want to get into my car and go home.”

  “That’s fine,” Tatum said. “But I just want to...” Tatum put two fingers under my chin. It tickled for a second and I cringed, then felt embarrassed that I was so ticklish. My head lifted and Tatum made me look him in the eyes. It was exactly what I needed. “... see you,” Tatum finished his sentence, the two words lingering around us.

  I swallowed hard.

  I blinked, hoping tears wouldn’t fall from my eyes.

  Tatum just stared for a few seconds, taking me in. I knew he was trying hard to figure me out. Right then, if I was the good, honest person I wanted to become, I would have pushed him away and told him to run for good. To go find some girls back in Un, girls who were drunk, desperate, didn’t come with baggage, and only wanted a one night stand with the sexy drummer from DownCrash.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  I was greedy.

  I wanted Tatum to keep staring at me. I wanted him to hold me, protect me, and never let me go.

  “How did you get here?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  It probably wasn’t the thing I
should have said as I had a chance at a romantic moment with Tatum. Then again, he had literally appeared from nowhere just in time to save me.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Tatum said. “When Scarlett came backstage and you weren’t with her, I had to find you. She said you parked a few blocks away so I started running. Then I saw you turn the corner and I kept running.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I said and wrapped my arms around him.

  I couldn’t believe I did it, such a bold move to make. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bold of a move but for me it was. My head rested against his chest.

  It was unbelievably sexy, feeling his body against mine.

  It was the last thing I wanted to think, but maybe Tatum wanted the same thing Danny wanted. Maybe they both knew my reputation and Tatum was sober enough to know he had to work a little harder than to just come out and go after me like Danny did.

  I pulled away from Tatum and looked up at him again.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  It was the only thing to say that rang true and wouldn’t imply anything more or less.

  “I hate jocks,” Tatum said again and smiled.

  I smiled too.

  He was so warm, inviting, and I could see something in his eyes. Something wanting to come out. Something he wanted to share.

  “Listen,” he said, “I tried to throw you that drumstick...”

  “I know,” I said. “I would have caught it, I think, but that other guy jumped in front of me.”

  “I saw him. Another asshole. Anyway, I brought you a pair of sticks...”

  Tatum pulled the drumsticks from his back pocket and handed them to me. I gripped the sticks and looked at Tatum, almost in shock.

  “You ran all the way here to give me drumsticks?” I asked.

  “Worth it, wasn’t it?”

  He looked like he wanted to touch me and I knew his hesitation came from Danny. I wanted Tatum to touch me but I didn’t want to tell him to do it. I wanted him to do it, I wanted him to start it. That way it could all be on his shoulders.

  “It was worth it,” I whispered.

  I looked at the sticks, the nicks and marks in them, their imperfection obvious yet they could still bring music to life. Something about holding them meant the world to me. More than I cared to share with Tatum right then. I didn’t want to sound pathetic and hopeless, even though I was.

  “Why don’t you come back with me?” Tatum asked. “I’ll hold your hand and make sure no more jocks bother you... we’re just hanging out. No crazy partying or anything like that.”

  My mouth opened. I heard myself screaming Yes! to Tatum. I saw myself slipping my small hand into his big hand. I pictured us walking back into Un together, the eyes upon us, watching and judging. Everyone nudging each other, Hey, check out Maggie... the slut is at it again...

  “I can’t tonight,” I said.

  Shit. I blew it, didn’t I?

  “Not tonight? Okay. Just get home safe, please.”

  I respected Tatum for not pushing at me but I also kind of hated him for it. It wouldn’t take much to break me and have me cave and rush away with him, but he understood it. Somehow, he did. Maybe my eyes were that weary or maybe Tatum offered as a favor, hoping I would decline.

  “Just promise me something, Maggie,” he said.

  My lips quivered as fear ran through my body.

  Just promise me... always promise me... okay, Maggie? Nobody has to get hurt, not again. Not because of a broken promise. I’m sure seeing things torn to pieces will help you understand that...

  “Maggie? Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I said, catching myself. I saw that my hands clutching at Tatum’s shirt.

  That’s when I realized his shirt was covered in blood. I had been so focused on his eyes, his face, his lip ring, I missed the blood.

  “That’s not your blood, is it?” I asked.

  “No. It’s the jock’s. I’ll change when I get back.”

  “You can’t walk around in a bloody shirt,” I said. “If police or campus security sees you...”

  “You’re right,” Tatum said.

  He took a step back and before I could utter a word, he tore his shirt off his body.

  Holy. Fuck.

  He rolled the shirt into a ball and held it tight.

  “There. Better?”

  “Much,” I whispered.

  My eyes were in shock. My body tortured.

  The lines of Tatum’s body were amazing. The toned muscles connected with perfection, rippling and running in each other. I knew this wasn’t just from drumming. Tatum really took care of himself and his body. The angled lines of muscle that cut into his jeans made me bite my lip. I wanted to see where those lines went. I wanted to follow those lines with my finger, no, my tongue.

  I followed the ripped body up and noticed two really sexy things.

  First, Tatum didn’t have a single tattoo on him. I don’t know why that was sexy to me because I love tattoos. Maybe because I expected him to have tattoos. Tripp had tattoos... and Tatum was in a band...

  But nope, no ink.

  The second thing that caught my eyes - which should have been the first and only thing - was that Tatum had his left nipple pierced. The same side where he had his lip ring. When I looked up at his lip and started to compare both piercings at the same time, it drove my body wild. For the first time in as long as I cared to remember, I was so turned on I could feel my panties pulling tighter against my body, absorbing the growing wetness.

  “Everything good?” Tatum asked.

  I forced myself to stop eye fucking him and look him in the eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. What were you going to say... you wanted me to promise you something.”

  “Yeah, I do. Promise me that if you need anything you’ll call or text me.”

  “Why?”

  I sounded bitter but whatever. I had to stand there and endure an epic match between my heart, mind, and between my legs, all wanting something different.

  “Why? Because I don’t want you to ever feel alone. I don’t want you to walk the streets at night in the dark. And I don’t want some asshole like Danny to ever make you feel less than you really are. Is that good enough, Maggie?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just... it doesn’t matter I guess.”

  “If you ever want to talk about it, it matters to me.”

  Tatum flicked his tongue at his lip ring which caused me to imagine flicking my tongue at his nipple ring.

  Fuck, I was so turned on...

  Tatum nodded and started to walk away. I took the liberty of enjoying the sight of his rippling back and the nicest ass I’d ever seen on a guy until Tatum turned the corner and was gone. I told myself all it would take was a few seconds of running to catch up to him. Jump on his back and casually slide my hand down over his nipple ring to see what it felt like. He could take me back to Un and we could...

  “No,” I whispered.

  I clutched the drumsticks and walked around the driver’s side of my car. I wasted no time leaving, the lingering emotions thanks to both Danny and Tatum were almost too much to take in.

  On my way home I looked at the drumsticks about ten times.

  Tatum purposely went out of his way to give me drumsticks. All because some guy basically stole the one he wanted to throw to me.

  I parked the car, noticing Scarlett wasn’t home. I knew she wouldn’t be home for the rest of the night. She’d stumble in sometime in the late morning, looking like a sexy mess, with that hopeless look in her eyes that Tripp gave her.

  Funny how it wasn’t that long ago our roles were reversed. Scarlett would come home and find the apartment empty while I was out.

  I grabbed the drumsticks and started to study them.

  Why two?

  I got my answer a few seconds later.

  One of the drumsticks was clean, minus the flaws from Tatum playing drums with it. The other stick had something written on it, in pen.

&
nbsp; A phone number.

  Tatum’s phone number.

  ~5~

  I tossed and turned half the night, each time waking and looking at the drumstick on my nightstand. Of course it was the one with Tatum’s phone number on it. I still couldn’t believe he went out of his way like that to give me his phone number... and to replace the drumstick stolen from me. That drumstick was on my desk. I was more concerned about the drumstick with the phone number on it. I seriously thought about sleeping with the drumstick but then feared the pathetic embarrassment of actually waking to myself hugging a drumstick, fantasizing it was Tatum’s strong body against mine.

  I reached out at one point and ran my finger along the number, feeling the small ripples caused by the pen digging into the wood.

  What if I called him right then?

  What if I texted him...?

  My phone was right next to the drumstick.

  But what would I say? How would I even begin a conversation with Tatum? It was bad enough he probably figured me to be some easy girl, but now he had the power over me because he saved me from Danny. That meant he could either pull out the you owe me one card or he could let the damsel in distress thing create something that really wasn’t there. But once he was done saving me or worse yet, found out I couldn’t actually be saved all the way, then what?

  I finally rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, begging I wouldn’t wake up again. At that point, I didn’t even want to dream. Not even about Tatum. Not about his sexy lip ring. Not about his chiseled body. And certainly not about his tempting nipple ring.

  No. No way...

  When I opened my eyes again, I rolled over and figured it would have only twenty minutes since my mental argument about dreaming about Tatum. It was almost ten in the morning. I rubbed my eyes and checked the clock again.

  Yup. Ten in the morning.

  I rolled to my back and stared at the white ceiling. My mind instantly went back to Tatum. I kept seeing him punching Danny in the face, over and over. That killer strength, that commanding voice. It pinched my nerves in a way that I wasn’t sure if I actually liked it or not. It definitely touched on some memories that I thought were long dead. I did feel bad for Danny though. To be that desperate to try and force a girl like that. Whatever demons had their hold on him had it good. I tried to picture him walking around campus with a bruised face and puffy nose. I wondered what he would tell people. It wouldn’t be the truth, that’s for sure.