Fix Me_TAT_A Rocker Romance
Page 1
Copyright © 2018 by Melanie Walker All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2018
ISBN
Fix Me
TAT: A Rocker Romance
By,
Melanie Walker
Dedication
To Bryson Norman for the inspiration and light he brings to me.
You are the brightest star in the sky Bry.
I love you to the moon and back!
There have been many moments in my life, that if I look back I can see how I changed because of them. There is one defining moment however… the moment I got stuck.
Jenny Pope
Chapter One
Jenny
I walk up the steps to my one-bedroom apartment and I am dead on my feet. It’s just after midnight and I left skin exhausted. I hate days when I work at both my jobs, but building clientele is rough and it takes time and patience, so like it or not I need to keep working full time at Skin.
I hear the text come through like clockwork and smile. Before I can get my door locked I hear the alert to another text.
I drop my keys and purse on the floor swiping the screen of my phone seeing my text.
Noah: You home okay?
He sends this every night that I work at Skin and I respond letting him know I made it safe as I kick my shoes off and sigh.
The second message comes like clockwork too every night, but it is full of sexual tension, unanswered questions and heartache... for me anyway.
Cal: Hey Red, you get home okay?
I know he asks out of general concern and some sort of meek obligation. I am the mother of his child and lately I have been the rock he breaks himself against to ensure he still feels. He knows I love him, but he can’t possibly understand the depth of that love. I have loved every version of Cal Dorian for most my life. Since Jr High it has been him, and for him it was anyone and everyone. I loved that boy and it morphed and changed before he found his success as the Lead guitarist of Thick as Thieves. That love destroyed me... and as he found his fame and success in the nation’s number one band, I found myself alone and pregnant in the pits of hell that only worked to draw me deeper.
In it all I loved him, when he hated me for the neglect our son experienced as I worked nonstop knowing he needed care. For the night our son was exposed to the ugly things in life and for the times he saw me as that loser Jenny Pope.
Me: Yes, thank you for checking. Goodnight
That was all it ever was. He never texted to ask about my night and I never asked about his. We were so fragile, even at our strongest. Because of that, I didn’t cross the boundaries we had made silently. The last time I did, was over a year ago and it cost me dearly in the end.
I learned that night I couldn’t be anything casual with Cal.
I slipped out of my work clothes and stood beneath the spray washing off the nights memories. I wasn’t one of the dancers that Skin employed, but the men never hesitated to push the envelope with a cocktail waitress and too many hands touched me tonight.
When I started working there when I was just twenty-one, I allowed the behavior. For years I would push that same envelope and it was always about the hustle. I would hustle every cent I could when I danced and when I became a server. I would work multiple doubles and spend my days off on tour busses and partying.
Now though, hell I don’t even recognize who I was.
I think that’s a good thing, it isn’t like I could forget. I am weighed down by that guilt every day. It is why I continue to let Cal use me, to buffer his hate against me. He isn’t cruel or unkind, but he pushes even my limitations, and with him there are very few.
I close my eyes against the onslaught of memories as they flash through my mind. His hands and teeth all over me, every inch of my skin covered in his skin and it has ruined any innocence I could have still held on to.
I shut the water off and step from the shower, wishing I could wash his memory away. I see my phone flashing another text message alert and I know it is my third and final check in for the night, and he will want to text me.
CD: Hey babe, how was work? Are you ready to let me take care of you forever?
CD works at the PIT. He is one of the newer tattooist that Sully and Noah brought on over the summer. He is from Barking and Dagenham, a borough of London and ohmigawd he is sexy. He has a blue mohawk and green eyes, lip piercings and tattoos. He is everything I would want, even without the sexy accent.
I should want to attack him and sometimes I do, but his name stops me. Cal is engrained in everything I think and see and the name CD is like a bucket of ice water.
Me: Hey Hun... Work was ok. I made good tips and so sadly I have to deny that gracious offer of support LOL
His response was immediate.
CD: Jen, when will you bloody realize I am crazy for you?
I try to picture us together and it is easy at first. I see us going to movies and concerts and laughing like we always do. But, like always the minute I try to picture being in bed with him it gets destroyed by the image of Cal fucking me senseless on his covered porch last Christmas.
I want to scrub my eyes and my memory of that night. That was the night I let him in and told him I loved him. It was Christmas and he was still freshly screwed over and destroyed by Tayla.
It was also the night he said he wanted me in his life and asked me to be patient so he could figure it all out. He didn’t want to lead me on, but was clear he wanted to see what would happen...
I was overjoyed and couldn’t have written a more perfect story of us to tell Axe one day, to prove happy endings were real.
But, as the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months I was forced to watch the Tayla and Cal show. I had to force myself to move on when it became too much.
So, I gave CD my number when he asked. I listened to both Noah and Sully tell me how amazing he was. It felt like they might have had a man crush on him. Once I saw CD though, I got it.
Now here I was. Twenty-six and single trying to make a name for myself in the PIT world as the piercing and branding specialist while crying myself to sleep every night wishing for shit I could never have.
Me: I know you're crazy that’s for sure
Before he could respond I hear a knock on my door and take the phone with me so that when CD texts I will open the door and save him the trouble. This is his new routine and though I like his effort and hanging with him, I am scared he will end up hurt chasing someone who is unavailable.
But, as I open the door it isn’t CD I see. No, it’s Cal and he looks stressed and worried and mad as hell.
Cal
I wait for that damn text she sends me every night and after twenty minutes I call Skin and her supervisor tells me she left over an hour ago. Skin is seedy as fuck and I don’t trust a single mother fucker that sits in that shithole.
I get in my Jeep and head over to her place and see her Escalade in her stall. Everything goes a hazy shade of black as I picture her with that CD dude that’s up her ass. So here I sit and contemplate the bullshit brewing inside me, planning my next move and talking myself out of it at the same time.
I don’t deserve Jen, hell I am the one person who doesn’t deserve her. Not a lot of people see my opinion the same, but fuck them and their judgement. I was the main factor in what destroyed the once innocent and sweet hometown Gig girl.
I used her, more times than I could count. It started in eighth grade when seven minutes in heaven turned into an al
l of thirty second blow job the summer of eighth. My first and still I think back to it as a damn near spiritual moment.
From there it was always a little further. A ton of that third base grind and I recall with absolute clarity that first orgasm I gave her with my fingers and tongue. I felt like a God and it only fueled the asshole inside that wanted more. In eleventh grade, I took her to bed and continued to fuck her for four years, then destroyed her and called her the worst things imaginable. I never once looked at my part in who she became. I don’t take all the blame, but my reluctance to be anything but her booty call is what lead her to our lifestyle. And she didn’t have the cred to keep herself safe. No managers or labels, she fell down the rabbit hole I left her at. She was sucked into a life she didn’t deserve...
And in it all I still used her. My friends used her. We passed her around like a joint, then called her a whore and a junkie.
My stomach rolls when I see her on the bus, legs spread as I cum in her mouth and Noah cum’s on her pussy. What was deviant and crazy hot back then, is disgusting and cruel now. I cannot think of her in that perfect pink prom dress dancing with James Denahee at the dance, and fucking me in my car that night after we both ditched our dates for not being fun enough... and then picture her behind the stage six years ago as Noah, Myself and the members of Sinners of the Slipstream took a vote on who wanted to party with the hottest redhead there.
I didn’t take her back to the bus with me that night, didn’t care that anyone did. I was fucking Tay that night and Jen was sent to party with the others. I would be lying if the look she gave me, this sad and disenchanted sorrow as she left with the guys from Sinners. I knew she wanted me and I had some sick joy in knowing she wished it was me and most likely thought of me as they railed her.
Shit like that only served to boost my ego and destroyed her as well as countless others I am sure.
We were all good to those we knew and loved, to our families and friends. We were grateful for the fans and the devotion, but behind the scenes we were womanizing bastards.
Despicable.
Loathsome
Arrogant
And now I am left with the memory of the damage, the knowledge I had part in it and I watch her hate herself for what I excused as ok, then used against her when I found out about our son.
I know the majority of what caused his issues. DCFS reports and a shit load of counseling to tell me what I think I always knew deep down inside. Jen wasn’t a fit mother, but she had the intentions to be one. Had I known she had my child, I would have provided for them and that is what rests on Jen.
I hate her for that because I missed so much and could have helped to keep him from seeing shit and going through shit no kid deserves. She didn’t neglect him in the junkie whore mom way we all accused her of. In fact, it was Tayla of all people who finally sought the truth. Jenny was working double shifts to keep the roof over their head and food in their bellies. She was using, but Jens addiction was the life not the drug. She still had to detox and get it out, but she was just a part of the seedy world we lived in and thought we were better than.
Now I watch her excel at motherhood and I have no fear. I have watched her take in my darkest days and not flinch. She is my rock and my home and everything I should have always protected. I lead her to the life and she dove in headfirst thinking I would see her. I saw her and I turned a blind eye.
I look at the clock for the hundredth time and I loosely convince myself she is in grave danger and I should just make sure she is ok. Chances are she is in there with my replacement, CD and I am about to be a major cock block.
That has me smiling as I slam my door.
How fucked up am I? It isn’t if I want her, I do. It is an issue of having her and that I can’t. My world is in shambles as is our sons. I cannot risk hurting Jenny and Axe both in my need to seek comfort. That’s all it is, its comfort and I need it from her like my next breath. I am a thief for it and I accept it, accept the dirt bag I am for it.
I knock on her door, hands stuffed in my pockets as I pace waiting for her to save me from my own mind. By the time she opens it, the worst possible images of thrusting and skin and cries of pleasure have assaulted me and I am barely breathing.
"What are you doing here?" She asks me and looks ten shades of worried.
I instantly realize at seeing her fresh from a shower and wearing some tight ass pink pants and a black tank top (sans bra, god dammit) I know I have over reacted. Luckily for me this was a first on my crazy train tour and hadn’t appeared in the middle of the night claiming concern.
But having convinced myself halfheartedly that she was dead or being hurt, I proceed like the insane mother fucker she has made me. "I didn’t hear back from you..." I trail off feeling like a tool.
No, I am not crazy, just unhinged and obsessed with her and I am torn between thinking it is guilt or true interest. Both are inappropriate.
"I texted you back before I got in the shower?" She says it as a question and pulls her phone from her tank top and I want to bite my knuckles to keep from taking her mouth.
She holds the door open for me to come in. As my night goes on, well it doesn’t suck. I step in and take a seat at her crappy counter. Jen has done what she can with the shithole she rents. That isn’t me being a snob or judging. It is a shithole. Nothing about this place is legit accept for the fact it is a dump.
I admire her for owning it and making it hers. She won’t ask me for money or Noah even and we both have tried to get her to move. She says this is her budget and that’s it. If I can say anything about this place, the one renting it is tough as nails and can handle her own.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it though. I am vocal about my distaste for her skid row apartment. I refuse to let Axe come here unless I am with him and Jen luckily agrees. She spends her time at our house more than here because that is his home. It would be hers too if I could figure my shit out.
"I can see you judging..." She says and pulls two bottles of water from her shit brown fridge.
I look at my phone and see the message she sent me. I was so busy convincing myself I needed to check, I didn’t bother looking to see if she responded. "I have to Jen. This place isn’t good." I look at the chipped counter as I hand her my phone.
"Told you." She says, referring to her response on my phone. She sips from her water as she scrolls through my playlist until she comes to a song she likes. 'Until then' by Sully Erna comes on and I smile. "This song reminds me of you."
She points at me with my phone, handing it back. I am still processing this new development. "Really?" I ask and thank God, I can play off the emotional turmoil I am in constantly these days. I learned to hide my entire life. Emotional shit freaks me out and I tried being honest with her last Christmas after fucking her all night in between my emotional outbursts. She said she would wait me out. Said she wanted me, like we were that night.
That following night proved us both wrong though when Tay showed up and begged me for a chance to see what she wanted. I saw the look on Jens face... know she saw the look on mine... Still didn’t matter. I spent the night in my soundproof studio fighting with Tayla and telling her to go back to the piece of shit she cheated and left me for. Robert Black was the head of our label, Heshen Aggression and a true narcissistic son of a bitch.
I blink the memory back and play with the label on the water bottle so my face won’t give away my regrets.
She nods, responding to me asking about the song and I am pulled to listen to it. I have to hear it and see it through her, and though I have played it a thousand times it’s like this is the first. "Start it over, let me hear this shit."
She picks up my phone and restarts the song. I keep my head down as I listen to every word, every inflection of his voice as he sings it. All I see is Jen and I fall to the music for the answers.
I listen to every word and place them as best I can into our past and it shreds me. I am trying not to assume this is about us an
d a history of sex, love and neglect.
I say nothing as it plays. I watch her mouth the words as she watches the video and not once does she look at me until the last notes of the song fade. When she looks up, my eyes are fused to her.
"Explain." I say and keep my eyes on her. I need to see it to know if I am right. It will be in her eyes.
"What’s there to explain?" She asks nervously and hands my phone back to me, breaking eye contact. "If you don’t know already, I won’t be explaining it to you."
I nailed it.
"That’s your answer for everything Jen. When you don’t want to answer anything that could be telling you give me that horse shit. You pass the buck to me like I haven’t been paying attention." I stand from my stool; my fear and anxiety are gone and I walk to her with purpose. "But, see, I have been paying attention."
She looks up at me when I box her in to the counter, my arms caging her so she can’t run. "Have you?" She asks and licks her lips.
"Acutely." I say and let the tension fill what space is between us. I can hear her breath quicken and see the faint blush on her chest. She's nervous and she should be.
"So, what was it about then?" She asks and still turns it on me. If she wants to fight this thing all sketchy, I won’t fight fair.
"You and I from eighth grade to right this very second." I lick my lips and lean in close, so close to her lips. I could kiss her right now and she would let me, but I need her to understand that I see her. I see her from back then and I see her now. Though they aren’t the same, they still mean something. "Look at me."
I watch her look just beyond me and bite her bottom lip but the moment is interrupted when her phone chimes. She looks away as she reaches her back pocket to retrieve her phone with a nervous laugh.
Fuck that, this is too important.
I stop her by grasping her wrist. "No, look at me Red. Fuck him whoever he is."
She flinches at my words and it proves I am right. Some dude, probably CD is texting her.