“I better let you get back to Ryan,” I say, letting her go “You know how he gets with sharing.” The joke falls flat. Neither of us laugh.
I lean in and kiss her cheek. “I missed you, Red.”
I close my eyes and breathe in her scent, relish the way she holds her breath, and then I pull back and walk away. I slam my door and for a long time, I do nothing but lean against it. Then I walk out onto my private balcony and let the freezing Prague air assault me. It’s snowing, and I’m wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. No jacket. No shoes. But I don’t give a rat’s arse because the bitter cold surrounding me provides a pretty good distraction from the ache in my chest.
I pull a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and light up, shielding my smoke from the winter chill. The snow bites at my feet, but it’s a welcome relief. I know this hell all too well. I’m on fire, burning from the inside out, and seeing her tonight has doused the flames in kerosene. When I’m comfortably numb, and my nose feels like it may have fallen off from the cold, I head back into the warmth of my room.
I shut out the cold, but inside, the sounds of my bandmates aren’t muffled by the street, or the traffic, or the soft thud of my feet against the snow drifts. In fact, it’s abundantly clear that I have the room next to Ali and Coop, and the two of them are going at it like rabbits. I fall onto the bed and watch the wall as if it were a window into their suite. I don’t need a window to know what they’re doing though. Right now, he’s buried balls deep inside her. I know because while she may be trying to keep quiet, the headboard slamming against the wall is making enough noise for the both of them.
I bury my head in my hands. My heart is being pulled from my chest, slowly, one long strand of muscle at a time until there’s nothing left. A sharp rap on my door startles me, and Ash peeks his head in.
“Hey,” he says uneasily and stares at the wall, where the hanging picture starts to bounce in time with their movements. “You wanna hit the gym with me?”
“Actually, I was thinking of waiting till it’s my turn,” I deadpan. Ash blanches, because he never was great at seeing the funny side of things. “I’m kidding, fuckface, of course I want to get out of here. I’m not doing the gym. You and I are finding a bar and pickling our livers until they cry uncle, like old times.”
“Okay.” He nods, and I’m surprised convincing him to ditch his health kick was so easy.
“Where’s Zed?”
“He took off with Deb. She said she had some last-minute shopping to do.”
I raise a brow. “On Christmas Eve?”
“I think she’s just as happy about the Coop and Ali sleepover as you are.”
“Can’t blame her, I guess. It’s one thing to hear your ex-lover fucking her new fiancé, but it’s an entirely different thing hearing your brother and your friend go at it like rabbits.”
“Fiancé?” Ash asks.
“Long story.” I climb off the bed and grab my wallet from the nightstand. “Lead me to the booze, and I shall regale you with my worst fucking nightmare.”
“Jesus, I can’t wait,” Ash says as he tosses my jacket at me. I put it on, slip into my boots and grab a scarf. Then I follow him out of my room, through the apartment and into the hall, where our front door slams with the finality of my heart breaking in two.
CHAPTER THREE
NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOUR PENIS
LEVI
“I’m out.” Ash coughs and beats at his chest as if he’s a decrepit old dude with pneumonia. He hands me the bottle of tequila.
“What happened to you, man?” I side-eye him and take another swig. “All those ’roids you’re pumping through your system turn you into a pussy?”
“Fuck you, I don’t do ’roids.”
“You’re doing somethin’.”
“Yeah, it’s called working out.” He stands and stretches, but he begins shivering almost immediately now that he’s no longer under the duvet he pulled from his bed. “Jesus, fuck it’s cold out here.”
I pull my own cover closer around my neck. “Pussy.”
“Just ’cause you’re too drunk to feel it. Do me a favour, take a warm shower before you hit the hay. You’re gonna get frostbite on your balls.”
“S’not like I need them anymore,” I mumble, but despite the doona cover and the eight layers of clothing, my balls really are cold.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. In ten years you’ll want kids, and you’ll have to ask Zed or Coop to be your sperm donor.”
“Nah, you’d do it for me.”
His face turns serious. Ash is always serious, but he’s never been sad or forlorn a day in his life, not since I’ve known him—but there’s something not right with the way he’s looking at me. Then again, maybe I’m just so fucked up I’m seeing things.
“What’s wrong with you?” I slur, but he’s already at the balcony door and probably too far away to make sense of my incoherent words.
“I’m going to bed. Don’t freeze to death out here.”
“Can’t make any promises.” I can’t feel my face. I can’t feel anything. I’m numb, and I fucking love it. I may just sleep out here. Pitch a little duvet tent, crawl inside, and never come out. At least then I wouldn’t have to hear Ali and Coop fucking.
“You sure that’s such a good idea,” Ash says, and I roll my eyes back inside my head wondering what the fuck he’s going on about.
A snow fort is exactly what I need.
“I just wanna talk to him.” Red. My insides twist up in knots. My Red. Only she’s not mine. She never was. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
Ash laughs, and it’s a humourless, empty sound. “You just being in the same room hurts him, Ali. Fuck! You being halfway across the world tears him apart—”
“I didn’t come here to hurt him.”
“And yet it did anyway.”
“Ash,” I grumble. “Leave her alone.”
“Whatever.” He sighs, and I turn my head to see him leave; it makes me dizzy. I stare at the falling snow as it blankets the city. The door closes softly behind Ali, and I can’t help it. I stare at her, because when she’s around, I can’t look away.
“You look really good, Red.”
She sighs. “You’ve told me that already. You look like shit, Levi.”
“You told me that already too.” I grin and bring the bottle of tequila to my mouth, taking a hearty swig and wincing as it burns the ever-living fuck out of my oesophagus. Ali places her hand over mine and pulls the bottle from my lips. She takes it from me, but not without a struggle first.
“I know this is hard for you.”
“Well, not yet, but shove your hand down my pants, and it won’t be long.” I pause. “Actually, we both know that’s not true. My cock is huge.”
“Yes, it is,” she says quietly. “But you know I’m not talking about your penis. Not everything is about your penis, Levi.”
“Sure, it is.”
“Look.” Ali sighs. “I can leave if this is too hard.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about my cock?”
“Levi.”
“What do you want me to say, Red?” I ask. “Yeah, it’s hard. Seeing you here, having you sit right next to me and being unable to touch you, fucking sucks, but I’ll get over it. Eventually.”
“I don’t like to see you hurt.”
“But you like to see him hurt even less.”
“That isn’t it.”
“You chose him, Red. You chose the man you couldn’t live without. Of course, I think you’re wrong, but what the hell do I know?”
“You’re going to make some other girl really happy one day. You just need to find the right one.”
“I already did,” I murmur. “She’s marrying someone else.”
She straightens, but her brows crease with confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say with a sigh. I get to my feet, kiss the top of her head and stagger inside.
“Levi—”
“Goodn
ight, Red.”
CHAPTER FOUR
A HOMELESS MAN’S COAT
LEVI
I wake to squeals and sit bolt upright in bed. I check the clock and decide I officially hate Prague as I try to make sense of the bright green digits telling me it’s just past six and way too early to be woken by people fucking on the other side of the wall. I throw the pillow over my head and groan. My brain aches. I attempt to get up, but realise I’m still drunk so standing isn’t really an option right now.
“Yes!” Ali shouts. “Yes.”
She doesn’t sound like she’s in the throes of ecstasy. That’s a sound I know well, so I know this isn’t that. And then it dawns on me, yesterday, when Coop and I went on our little errand. Today is Christmas. He just asked her to marry him, and those screams of “yes” aren’t her crying out with orgasm, they’re the woman I love, saying yes to being another man’s wife.
Fuck!
I scream this inside my head, because I can’t very well do it out loud, not with them just a few feet away behind a thin sheet of drywall. I grab the half-empty bottle from the nightstand and unscrew the cap, downing a huge gulp. My throat burns with the booze and my eyes burn with tears, and then as if on autopilot, I throw the bottle against the dresser and watch as clear liquid runs down the furniture to drip on the plush carpet. A hush falls over the room next door, but it’s short lived because a few seconds later, their quiet murmurs turn into the rhythmic beat of the headboard hitting the wall. Fuck me. I glance at the mess. I’ll probably cut my feet when I try to get up, but who really gives a shit? Not Ali, certainly not Coop, and me? I don’t give a fuck what happens to me anymore. I don’t give a single shit. Except that now I have no booze, and as I lay back on the bed, I wish I hadn’t wasted it on the dresser.
Later, I’ll venture out into the apartment and raid whatever stash of liquor we have left, but right now, I can’t stomach seeing either one, maybe not at all today.
Merry fucking Christmas.
***
Well if this isn’t awkward as fuck, I don’t know what is. I would have been content to just lie in bed all day, but everyone insisted I join them for Christmas lunch, and here we are.
Ali sits across the table from me, beside Cooper. Ash has the seat next to me, and Zed sits across from him alongside Deb. It’s just one big happy fucking family. Try as I might, I can’t help staring at the ring on Ali’s finger. The way the black diamond catches the light and the smaller diamonds twinkle around it, mocking me. There’s takeout from room service on the table, and wine. As if we’re people who drink wine. As if I haven’t been in a state of perma-drunk since she left. I raise my glass and down half in one go. It tastes like shit. Zed probably ordered it. I wish I could just crawl back to my room, but in the spirit of giving, I’m trying to give a fuck.
I can’t tell if it’s working or not.
“Levi, can you pass the wine, please?” Ali asks. It’s a fair question to ask of me, because even though it tastes like shit, I’m hoarding it.
“Sure,” I grab the neck of the bottle and hand it to her. It sloshes on the pristine white tablecloth. Ali attempts to mop it up and that big shiny rock winks in the light as if it’s taunting me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”
I laugh without humour. “I don’t know, Ryan. Whatever could be the matter?”
I stare at the ring on her finger. Ali’s hand disappears inside her sleeve, hiding from the world. From me. Did she think I wouldn’t notice? “I guess congratulations are in order, huh?” I grab my glass and raise it in a toast to the happy couple. “To Red and Ryan, may you never know the absolute fucking torture of losing one another.”
I gulp down my wine and throw the glass as I walk out. My coat is nowhere to be found. I don’t have time to look for it, I don't even know where I’m going, and I don’t care.
“Levi,” Ali calls, but the door slams behind me, effectively cutting off her words. I don’t come across a single soul as I make my way past the bar and through the lobby. A woman is working the front desk, but she appears too flustered to even look up from the phones that are ringing off the hook. Cold air howls past the entrance to the hotel and the bellman opens the door. He says something in Czech, but I’ll be damned if I know what the fuck it is. Icy air blasts my face, and for a bit, I think about staying within the warmth of the hotel and parking my arse on a stool by the bar, but if I stay here, sure enough, Ali or Zed, Ash or even Coop will come looking. Okay, maybe not Cooper, but someone is bound to come looking, and right now, I don’t want to be found. So I push out onto the street and bunch my hands into fists as the air is stolen from my lungs by the cold.
***
An hour later, I’m holding a little baggy of E, and shivering under a bridge in a homeless man’s coat. I paid him three hundred dollars in cash. I’m a shitty fucking person. I’m the worst, and it’s no wonder Ali is marrying Cooper fucking Ryan, the golden boy of rock. I stare at the packet for so long I’m not sure I’m going to even take it. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. It’s not like any of this is a surprise. Wasn’t it me who just yesterday told Ryan that it was a given Red would say yes? Even so, I can’t breathe knowing that I was right.
She said yes.
I knew there was no chance for us. I knew that from the second she left us, but I guess a part of me still held out hope ... right up until the moment I saw that shiny rock on her finger. A part of me was still secretly hoping she would tell him no, and tell me that she’d made a mistake. Stupid. So fucking stupid. I stare at the cellophane packet and open it, shaking one of the little pills out into the palm of my hand. And then I swallow it down with a sip of whisky, and ten minutes later, I forget all about how Ali Jones is soon to become Ryan’s girl forever.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT’S CALLED TACT, ARSEHAT
LEVI
When I wake, it’s to bright lights overhead, an uncomfortable bed, and a white room that reeks of disinfectant. My stomach turns, and my throat feels like a bunch of razorblades threw a fucking kegger. I glance around and see Ali’s worried face, and Coop’s pissed off one.
“Jesus, who died?” I rasp, though it hurts like a son of a bitch to talk.
“You arsehole,” Ali snaps. Tears form in her eyes, but she blinks them back and her expression is lit with fury. “You almost died.”
Coop puts his arms around her, pulling her into his side, and that hurts worse than the pain coursing through my body right now.
“They pumped your stomach,” Coop says. “Vanessa is pissed. It’s a PR fucking nightmare. You’re on goddam TMZ walking naked through the snow in Prague.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit is right. As soon as your arse is up out of bed, Guidelli wants a video conference call. They’ve cancelled the last five shows of the tour, refunded thousands of dollars in ticket sales—again—and they’re giving us three months to sort out our shit.”
My brows shoot up in surprise, and even that hurts. “We get three months off?”
“No, fuckface. We get three months to clean up our shit, or we’re dropped from the label. Personally, I think it’s kind of fucked that all of our careers are in jeopardy, instead of just yours, but hey, Ash and Zed won’t play without you, so it is what it is.”
Ali’s shoulders sag in defeat and she glares at her new fiancé. “Coop.”
“So that’s your plan, just to kick me out of the band?”
“It’s not something I’ve ever wanted, not even when things were ...” He glances at Ali. “Difficult with the three of us, but I won’t lie, Levi. We’ve all had enough of your bullshit. Either you can deal with this, or you can’t. Which is it, because Ali and I are using these three months to get married—”
“Jesus, Coop.” Ali shakes her head. “Really? You said you’d let me handle it.”
“What?” he demands of his future wife. “It’s not like he doesn’t know you said yes.”
“It’s called tact, ars
ehat.” Ali laughs humourlessly and then turns her gaze on me. She flops heavily in the chair beside my bed, takes my hand, and squeezes. Even as she holds my hand and prepares to feed me some bullshit line about this getting easier, her ring feels like a brand as the platinum band rests against my skin. “I know it hurts, and I know right now Coop and I must seem kind of cunty—”
I scoff. “Kind of?”
“The last thing either of us want is to hurt you.”
“Then don’t fucking marry him!” My voice breaks and I swallow down the lump in my throat as I glare at her.
“Fuck me, I’m done with this conversation. Ali, I’ll meet you downstairs,” Ryan says, shaking his head, and then without another word, he yanks open the hospital room door and leaves, slamming it behind him.
“Don’t marry him, Red,” I beg, squeezing her hand in both of mine. I know I sound pathetic, probably look it too, but I have to try. “Please, please don’t marry him.”
Tears spill over both of our faces, and I don’t care if it emasculates me completely. I don’t give a shit. All I care about is her.
All I want is her.
“I’m marrying him, Levi, and I know asking this of you makes me an arsehole, but it would mean a lot to me—and to him—if you would be there.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re asking. If you did, if you had even the slightest inclination, you wouldn’t ask me to do this,” I say through my teeth.
“I do—”
“No. Get the fuck out!”
“Levi, please ...” She sniffles and wipes away her tears as she climbs to her feet. I want to pull her on top of me. I wanna kiss the shit out of her, even now, even when she’s gutting me this way. I want to grab her hands and run them through the blood that surely must be pouring from the hole in my chest where my heart used to be, but I don’t.
I don’t say a fucking word.
I don’t do a fucking thing, and Ali walks out of my hospital room, and out of my life, probably, for the last time.
CLOSER (Taint Book 2) Page 3