Hard To Love
Book #4 in the Rockin’ Country Series
By Laramie Briscoe
Copyright © 2015 Laramie Briscoe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. The author recognizes the copyright of Pantera, Dimebag Darrell, The First 48, and SVU. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Edited by: Lindsay Gray Hopper
Cover Art by: Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs
Proofread by: Dawn Bourgeois
Formatting: Paul Salvette, BB ebooks
Photography by: KKeeton Designs
Cover Models: Sager & Faith
Heaven Hill Series
Meant To Be
Out of Darkness
Losing Control
Worth The Battle
Dirty Little Secret
Second Chance Love
Rough Patch
Beginning of Forever
Rockin’ Country Series
Only The Beginning
One Day at a Time
The Price of Love
Full Circle
The Red Bird Trail Trilogy
Flagger
In-Tune
Collision
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Books by Laramie Briscoe
About the Book
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Connect with Laramie
Coming Soon: Sketch
Guitarist
Recovering Addict
Man Of Few Emotions
Jared Winston has spent much of his adult life in the public eye as the lead guitarist for the hugely popular rock band Black Friday. Presented with temptations from every side and dealing with the mess that was his childhood, he’s been known to indulge in excess.
One such excess almost killed him when he overdosed on Halloween.
The experience left him wanting to turn his life around, and it left everyone else in his life struggling, trying to balance the dual emotions of fear and anger.
One person, in particular, isn’t sure at all what she wants to do.
Friend
Glutton For Punishment
Giver Of Love Not Returned
Michelle Sanders has made her living as the assistant to the country music star Harmony Stewart. As a personal assistant, she thrives under structure and is always the one to fight for what her friend deserves.
When she met Jared, she took a chance on imperfection – she knew his history – and was warned. That is a chance she’s not sure will ever pay off.
Her perfect structure was blown to hell on the night Jared OD’d, and now she has to decide if she wants to risk her heart again.
Love is a game. It’s a chance taken; a roll of the dice. Shell gambles, but never in her wildest imagination did she think that the person who loves her would make it so hard for her to love him back.
Dedication
To anyone who’s ever been put in a place where it’s hard to love a special person in your life…..
Prologue
* * *
Jared Winston took in the scene before him, wondering what had become of his life. Was this it? Was this what he’d worked so hard for? In front of him lay a mirror, on it were three lines of cocaine, to the left was a hundred dollar bill that he was going to use to snort the powder up his nose. After he did those three lines, he was going to change. He was going to go to rehab—an overdose would do that to you—it would make you believe it was time for things to change. But first, he had to give into the vice one last time. He had to feel that high, he had to taste the drug deep in his throat. He knew without a doubt if he did any of it again—he would die.
He shut off his phone; it had been ringing consistently every half-hour. The woman he loved was trying to save him. She thought it was her job, her duty, to make things better for him. Little did she know he had to do that for himself. If he didn’t make this decision and stick to it, he would be dead in weeks; he knew that—they all knew that.
With a pounding heart, he leaned forward and put the rolled up bill between his thumb and forefinger. In slow motion, he put one end of the bill to the glass of the mirror and the other end to his nose. Once it was there, he inhaled and pulled back, wiping his nose as he sniffled.
One line down, two to go. The feeling of euphoria wasn’t immediate; he was much too numb to the effects for that. His tolerance was sky high, and that was the scary part.
The second line went much like the first. This time, he felt a little shaky, and he hated himself for needing so much.
On the third hit, he felt it. It hit him like a brick wall. Finally, that feeling only the drug could give him enveloped his body. He didn’t allow himself to admit it was the same feeling his girlfriend, Shell, gave him. He didn’t allow himself to admit he felt this feeling on stage when he played for an arena full of people.
No. He told himself, as he had for years, that the only way he could feel was when he took a hit.
It was time to come to some realizations. It was time to fix himself. It was past time to be the man everyone told him he could be.
It was time to grow up, face his demons, and stop making excuses for why he kept fucking up. Responsibility was his. It was time to own it.
* * *
Three Months Later
Jared glanced at the message that had been relayed to him inside the rehab center. He’d been on good behavior and he’d been allowed to use his cell phone. The text that had come through made him smile and made his heart happy. He was an uncle. His best friend was now a father, and he hadn’t been there to see it. He understood that he had to get better; he wouldn’t be allowed to be around the baby if he wasn’t. That had been one of the motivators for him g
etting help this time.
“Jared, it’s time for group.”
Group. His least favorite part of the day. He was expected to share parts of himself that he had never told other people about. Add to that it was a requirement, not a request, and the basic part of him that resisted everything fought back. But he had to admit it was helping. He wasn’t feeling like he was about to crawl out of his skin anymore, he wasn’t searching for a way out. Even though this was a resigned kind of acceptance, he would take it.
Pulling his hoodie over his head, he made his way through the building and out to the courtyard before entering the adjacent building and walking into the first classroom. He took the first seat, like he was known to do, and waited for the rest of the members to come in.
The leader had a seat and waited for everyone to get situated. Jared watched as the room filled up, and then he waited for them to call his name.
“Jared, we ended with you last session. Let’s pick back up.” The leader glanced over at him. “What would you say your downfall was?”
This shit was so fucking uncomfortable. “I’ve had more than one,” he admitted. “The first one was thinking I could make my parents into what I wanted them to be. They didn’t want kids, they got me, they didn’t know how to deal with a kid who had ADD, and I can admit now that I was a holy terror. Then everybody felt sorry for me, no one wanted to tell me no, because they saw how my parents treated me. Fast forward a few years, and I was in a world-famous band and nobody dared tell me no.”
“What forced you to see that?”
“Hurting everybody I love, including my best friend, the woman I love, and the band that took me in like family. I have to get better.” He rubbed the hoodie over his head. “I know myself. I’m going to die if I don’t, and I have way too much to live for.”
The leader clapped his hands together. “That is exactly what we love to hear, Jared. Now are you ready to fight?”
Was he? He’d asked himself the question a couple of times, and each time he came up with the same answer. “Fuck yeah, I’m ready to fight.”
“Then let’s fight together.”
Chapter One
* * *
Wearing a suit felt odd. Jared tried to remember the last time he’d actually worn one. Maybe something that the band had to do together? But tonight, he knew he had to do it. Putting his best foot forward was important for him at this point in his recovery, and he wanted Shell to realize he was serious.
Garrett had done him a solid and told him Shell would be watching baby EJ while he and Hannah were out on their Valentine’s Day date. He gripped the flowers he held in his hand, wondering what in the hell she would do. There was a small part of him that hoped she would welcome him with open arms; there was another, larger, part of him that wanted her to fight. He wanted her to make him work for it. He deserved to work for it. The shit he’d put her through? He’d be lucky if she didn’t slam the door in his face.
As he approached the door, his palms were sweaty in a way they hadn’t been before. He’d played in front of hundreds of thousands of people and not batted an eyelash, but this woman could bring him to his knees.
He turned back from the door and walked around in a circle twice. His heart pounded in his throat, and it was in this moment that he badly wanted to take a hit of something. It didn’t matter what it was, but he needed something to calm him down.
Instead, he took a deep breath and ran through all the tips he’d gotten in his time at rehab. He went through all his rituals, looking ahead at the bigger picture, pushing back the way his mouth watered for the hit of something. He pictured the look on Shell’s face when she’d finally be able to accept him into her life again. Being a part of EJ’s life, being a part of Black Friday. Those were the end game, and that’s what he knew he had to remember.
Taking another deep breath, he approached the door and finally let his knuckles connect to the wood. He waited for what felt like a hundred years, and when the door opened, he fought to make the words come forward.
She looked even better than he remembered. Her hair was longer and blonder than it had been when he’d last seen her. She was smaller, and he knew part of that was the stress he’d caused her. For a minute there was a smile on her face, and she gave him an adoring look.
“What are you doing here?”
Jared thrust a bouquet of roses towards her and spoke from his heart. “I’m here to do whatever it takes to win you back and prove to you just how much I love you.”
When the door slammed in his face, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, it made him chuckle, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His girl had balls. His girl was going to make him work for it, and if that’s what he needed to do, that’s what he was going to do.
He put the roses on the concrete, leaning them up against the door. Hopefully, she would read the note he left inside. Hopefully, she would give him a second chance.
* * *
Shell fumed as she walked from the foyer, back into the living room. She wanted to scream or punch something, but she didn’t want to wake up the baby, who was sleeping peacefully. Grabbing the baby monitor and her purse, she went to the back porch, leaving the door ajar as a secondary precaution.
Her hands shook as she rifled through her purse, pulling out her half-smoked pack of cigarettes. This was a habit not many people knew about. She only did it when she absolutely needed the stress relief. It took her a few tries, but she managed to light the tip, inhaling deeply as she let the nicotine spread through her body.
How could he come here and expect that things would be just as they left them? She hadn’t seen him in months. She laughed, and even she realized how crazed it sounded. This was it; she’d finally driven herself insane trying to keep up with him. The sad thing was? She wanted him. There was nothing more that she wanted than to throw herself in his arms, let him wrap her up and make it all better.
She lifted the filter of the cigarette up to her mouth and held it between her lips as she grabbed her phone. This was torture, but she continued to do it to herself when she missed him more than she imagined she could. As she blew out smoke, she scrolled through the pictures on her phone.
There, she went through the years of their time together, starting from when they’d first starting hanging out in secret, to them officially dating, to a few days before the incident that sent him to rehab. Not all of those pictures represented happy times. They’d had their fair share of hard times, but she’d always known they would be together at the end of the day.
Until they weren’t.
As much as she missed the Jared who stared back at her from the early days, she wasn’t sure she could put her heart out there again. It had broken her when she’d watched him fighting to live. Even now, sometimes when she closed her eyes, she could hear Garrett screaming at him to breathe. She knew without a doubt she couldn’t handle another scene like that.
And now he was back. He looked great, healthy, and happy. He would stay that way long enough to fool her, long enough to lull her into a false sense of security, and then he would go off the rails again.
Unless he didn’t.
And that’s where she worried that she would let the possible happiness slip her by, and she’d never be able to reclaim it.
Nothing about Jared’s love was easy—including giving hers to him.
She took a last hit off her cigarette and stood up as EJ began to cry. Walking back into the house, her shoulders were heavier than they’d been in a long time.
Chapter Two
* * *
Jared sighed as he heard the alarm blaring in his ear. Reaching over, he grabbed his phone, sliding the snooze button, giving himself five more minutes. This was a ritual. He would do this two more times, and by then, he would be awake enough so that he could pull himself out of bed and think about beginning his day. He’d never been a morning person, but one of the things he’d learned in rehab was that he did better if he faced the morning head-on.
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“Get up, rock star.”
He hated the way she said rock star, almost like it was a bad word. He hadn’t asked for what happened with him and Black Friday—they were fucking lucky. Only a handful of the bands that formed every year had been able to reach the point of success they were at.
“Leave me the fuck alone.” He tried to pull the covers back up over his eyes.
“Not going to happen today. It’s time for you to get up, get out, and face the sun. You’re living in the dark, man,” the rehab nurse said, pulling back the covers again.
Was she right? Was that what he was really doing? He tried to think of his life, tried to think of his schedule. Most of it occurred at night—hell, almost everything they did as a band happened late afternoon into the overnight hours. It made it easy for him to sleep his life away. The only time he made an exception was when he knew Shell would be there.
Immediately his thoughts went to Garrett. When he and Hannah had gotten serious, he’d watched his best friend make sure he was up and at ’em—always with her, always with a cup of coffee in his hand. It hadn’t mattered how tired he was, he made time for her. He was selfless.
Unlike the selfish bastard lying in the bed.
“C’mon, Jared. It’s time to face life head-on. Once it becomes a habit, you’ll appreciate it.”
He wasn’t sure that he appreciated it, per se, but it did start him off on a better foot than sleeping until noon. Now he had a schedule. He had to have a schedule. If he didn’t, he seemed to worry about what to do with his time—and he tried not to veer from that schedule.
His text went off, interrupting his snooze he’d set. “Fuck it,” he groaned, sitting up. Grabbing his phone, he saw a text from Garrett.
Gonna be a few minutes late. Want me to bring you one of those protein bars I got from the farmers’ market?
Jared’s mouth watered. That thing tasted like a fucking candy bar. The Nashville Farmers’ Market beat California’s bar none.
Hard To Love (Rockin' Country #4) Page 1