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Unbearable

Page 8

by Amity Cross


  "Grant Waters," he said, walking over to meet me.

  Standing, I smoothed my skirt with my good hand and stepped forward. "Please, Sasha is fine."

  "Oh, what happened here?" he asked politely when he went to shake my hand and realizing he couldn't. For once I was in the presence of a gentleman who'd looked me in the eye first before going for the tits.

  "I took a surfing lesson on the weekend and had a little mishap. Came off the board and it collected my hand." Never surfed in my life, but he seemed to swallow it.

  "Remind me never to cross that surfboard," he said kindly. "Come in and have a seat. We've got a lot to discuss."

  Leading me into a sleek looking office with floor to ceiling windows and a long conference table, I was surprised to see another woman standing, waiting for us.

  "I'd like you to meet Yvonne DeGraves," Grant said, gesturing to her. "She's the head of the team that handles management for our new signings."

  Smiling, I awkwardly offered my left hand for her to shake. "Pleased to meet you."

  "It's fantastic to finally put a face to a name, Sasha," Yvonne said warmly, taking my hand. "I know you've been mostly dealing with Christian these past few months, but we've been dying to get you in here in person."

  "Oh?" I wasn't sure what else to say to that. I sat in one of the leather chairs as elegantly as I could, trying to be nonchalant about it.

  "We're gunna cut right to the chase," Grant said, taking over. "An artist of Affliction's caliber needs an experienced hand. There's no doubt that you've done some exceptional work with them these past months, but from the label's perspective, we have to think long term."

  "I understand, but-" I stopped mid-sentence. I was trying to fight for my job with Affliction? What was wrong with me?

  They looked at me expectantly for a moment and when they realized I wasn't going on, Grant said, "We have a new up and comer that we think you'd be perfect for."

  "You're offering me a job?" I asked a little too quickly.

  When he smiled, it crinkled his eyes at the corners. "Of course. We're not willing to let someone with your talents run off and get snatched up by another label."

  Yvonne slid a shiny folio across the table and I reached out and flipped the cover open. Inside was a photo and bio of a band called, The Switch. A four piece fronted by a wild looking rock chick. They had an EP and a cult following and looked rather interesting if I was being totally honest with the peanut gallery.

  "They're rock, similar to Affliction, based out of San Fran," Grant said, watching me as I flipped through the band's book. "We want to get them on a small West Coast tour before they record their debut album."

  "They've only just signed," Yvonne said. "We were waiting to get them on board before we called you in for a meeting. We want you to manage them."

  "When would I start?" I asked.

  "Affliction are in recording, so it's the perfect time to transition," Grant replied. "We have someone in mind to take over from you so all you need to do is say yes." He gave me puppy dog eyes. "Say yes."

  Yvonne stifled a laugh. "We'd fly you out next week to meet them and if you mesh well, it's permanent."

  "I have to say I'm curious," I said, running my fingers across the photo of the band.

  "It's practically yours, Sasha," Grant said. "From all the feedback I've gotten from Jake West and Joe Fox, I don't see this being anything but perfect."

  I knew West had spoken to the label, he'd told me as much, but Joe, too? I was so determined to escape Mick that I'd forgotten about them. Rob was also on that list, though he was usually the quietest of the bunch, I liked him just the same. How often would I get to see them and Blair? Would I get to meet Joe's girlfriend, Alexis if I left? She'd been around for a few days, but I'd been too wrapped up in my own life to seek her out. I knew better than anyone that that meeting would be a time in a far distant future. On the other hand, I'd never have to see Mick Savage's stupid douche-wad face ever again. It was a no-brainer.

  I opened my mouth to say yes, but before the word could even form in my throat, the door banged open and in walked none other than Mick fucking Savage.

  Mick

  "Sir?"

  I vaguely heard a woman's voice calling out behind me as I strode across the fancy waiting area of Galaxy Records, L fuckin' A.

  "I'm here for Sasha Montgomery," I barked out at her.

  "She's in a meeting in the conference room right now. I'm sure she'll be out momentarily. Would you like to have a seat?"

  Fuck that. The receptionist never had a chance as I pushed through the glass door separating the front from the offices beyond. The conference room was dead ahead - I remembered the layout from the handful of times I'd been here before on band business. Heads were turning at my abrupt appearance and the desperate 'excuse me's' from the receptionist, who was currently chasing me down. I figured I had about two minutes before someone called security, so I better make this count.

  Opening the door to the conference room with a violent jab, three sets of startled eyes fixed on me. Two suits and her.

  Sasha was staring at me with a mixture of loathing and surprise. "Mick? What are you doing here?"

  My gaze slapped right onto her plastered hand and for a second the room fell away.

  "Mick Savage?" the woman asked.

  "The one and only," I drawled, coming back to myself. Now wasn't the time to fall on my knees in front of Sasha and plead. Now was the time to fight like a man and I fixed my sights on the woman and the guy, who were staring at me like I had a screw loose.

  "I'm sorry, sir." The receptionist had appeared behind me. "I tried to stop him, but-"

  The man behind the table held up a hand. "It's okay, Gretta."

  My gaze fell onto the folder on the table and my guts twisted. I fucking knew it. They'd offered her another gig and by the looks of it it was a group of upstart bloody kids.

  "Mr Savage?"

  My gaze snapped up to meet the suits on the other side of the table. "If you let her go and manage some bunch of kids, she'll go to waste. Affliction needs her. She's already gone above and beyond for us."

  "We understand, Mick," the guy said. "We've noticed her hard work, that's why we're offering her a permanent position."

  "Yeah, with another fuckin' band." He or the woman didn't blink twice at my filthy mouth.

  "Mick, please," Sasha hissed at me, but I was far from done.

  "When Dean Furlough leaked all of West's crap to the media, who do you think was there to mop it all up?" I jabbed a finger at Sasha. "Where were you? She was here doing all the leg work. She was being paid shit and still she went out of her way to make sure we were good. Her heart's in it one hundred percent. She's a part of us...a part of our family and we can't be without her."

  "I think you've given us a lot to think about, Mick," Yvonne said, rising to her feet. "I think it's time to get back to the studio, huh?"

  Man, she was not impressed with me, but she was a business-type, suit up to the eyeballs. What would she know about passion? They were looking at me and only seeing crazy. They weren't listening. I couldn't lose her. I couldn't.

  "The rest of the band is with me on this," I went on. "We want Sasha to be our manager. Permanently. We're prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens."

  "Mick, we appreciate the passion you're showing right now, but it's not that simple. At the end of the day we're operating a business and have to adhere within those parameters."

  Well, if this bitch was going to play hardball, she hadn't had the pleasure of playing with me. "If she goes, then so do I."

  "You know we can get a replacement." It wasn't a question. "You signed a contract, you know." It was either a threat or a bluff, but I didn't care. What fucking use was touring and playing when I couldn't do it with Sasha by my side? What use was anything if she couldn't forgive my stupid cunt of an ass?

  I eyeballed her and the guy. "Then get one."

  "Mick." Sasha had fin
ally spoken up and she was not happy. She'd flicked on her rage switch again, but at least she was listening to me.

  The guy held up his hand. "I think we'd better postpone this meeting until another time, don't you think? Before anyone goes and does something stupid in the throws of passion."

  I hated the way he said 'passion' like he knew I wasn't talking about how much the band wanted her. I clenched my jaw as Sasha rose to her feet, a look of absolute humiliation on her face.

  "Thank you, Grant," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "Yvonne. I apologize-"

  "No need," the woman said, ushering us out the door. "We'll be in touch."

  The moment we were out in reception, Sasha jabbed the call button for the elevator, her lips thin and her entire body tense.

  "Sasha," I said. "You were gunna take it, weren't you?"

  Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't reply. She didn't even look at me.

  The elevator arrived and we stepped inside, the air thick and cracking with I don't know what. The moment the doors closed, Sasha turned and went to slap me with her left hand. It was clumsy because she favored her right and I evaded her easily enough. Grasping her wrist, I backed her against the wall, pressing my body against hers.

  "I didn't mean the band," I said, lowering my mouth toward hers. "All of that was for you. I need you, Montgomery."

  "You're a real big fucking douche canoe, you know that? You've ruined everything."

  "I know I fucked up. I fuck everything up. I've never fought for anything like that and if that crazy ass display in there-"

  "I broke my fucking hand, Savage."

  I bit my bottom lip and began to worry it.

  "I've been in love with you for three and a half years. You gave me everything I ever wanted and then turned around and snatched it all back. Did any of it mean anything to you or was it just a game?"

  She shoved me hard and I let her put some distance between us. Seeing her like this, defeated, her hand in a cast, tired eyes, the weight of the world on her shoulders...my heart was breaking. I finally found my fucking heart and I'd broken it already. Sasha could fix it. I could fix hers...

  "It wasn't a game," I whispered.

  "Did you fuck her?"

  "She started to give me a hand job, but I stopped her. Nothing else happened."

  "It still hurts knowing you let another woman touch you. It hurt the way you fucked me and kicked me out like trash."

  My bottom lip quivered. "I fuck everything up." She stared at me, her expression becoming colder the further the elevator descended. "You scare the crap outta me, Montgomery." The admission almost tore me in two, but I had to put it all on the line.

  She sighed as the elevator doors slid open. "To little, too late."

  Stepping out into the busy lobby, I didn't give a shit who was watching. She was all I saw and right then, she was leaving me behind.

  "Please don't walk away," I pleaded.

  Her back was to me and she kept walking, not acknowledging any of the things I'd said. I'd meant them all but she was leaving. She was leaving and she was going to take the job and I'd never see her again.

  "Sasha," I called out, but she didn't stop.

  She was walking further and further away, the space opening up between us.

  "Sasha, I fuckin' love you."

  She came to a sudden stop and the whole world fell away. I was too afraid to step forward in case I pushed her a step too far. Some part of me knew that people had stopped around us, watching and waiting to see what would happen. Like my whole pathetic shit stain of a life was a sideshow.

  "I was scared," I said, laying everything out there. "I was fucking scared and I didn't know what to do. You-" I hesitated. Talking about feelings and shit? I never did that. I didn't know how. I was the master of one-liners. Master of fucking bullshit. "You can't leave. I just found you. Sasha, I need you."

  For a sickening moment I thought she wasn't going to turn, but slowly her body pivoted until her gaze met mine. Tears were falling from her eyes and I began to panic, not knowing if they were tears of happiness or pain.

  "Tell me what I need to do. Name it and it's yours. I told you the other day that I'd fight for you and I let fear take over. Never again. Never. You have to believe me. I don't know what else to do. I-"

  I was so caught up in the fear that I'd already lost her that I didn't realize she was in my arms until she was there. She pressed her mouth against mine, cutting off my heartfelt tirade and kissed me. The moment I felt her tongue lick against my bottom lip, I was a fucking goner. Taking control, I wound my fingers into her hair and held her against me, kissing her fucking stupid.

  The sounds of clapping from our unwanted audience sounded from some far away place, but I was gone. I was with her and fuck everyone else. Fuck the label. Fuck the band. I didn't give a flying fuck.

  She was…amazing. I was too fucking dumb to think of another word, another that could better describe Sasha. West wrote all the songs, sang all the words and if there was another I could've used, then he would know it.

  "Sasha-"

  "Shut the fuck up, Savage," she murmured against my lips. "You've got a lot of groveling to do, FYI."

  "You're staying?" She slid her left hand over my waist and my entire body shivered in relief, lust...love.

  "You better hope to fucking god that those suits want to keep me on."

  "I had-"

  "Take me back to the studio, Mick. We've got some explaining to do."

  A grin started to spread across my face at the realization she was done hiding. I guess I hadn't given her much choice after the shit I'd pulled. West and Blair already knew, the label suits sure as fuck did, so it was time to come clean to everyone.

  "I fuckin' love you, Montgomery."

  Sasha

  I hadn't forgiven Mick, not entirely, but I knew if I walked away now I'd regret it forever.

  The whole way from Galaxy to the studio, he never let go of me. He held onto my hand, or slipped an arm around my waist, he took me any way he could. He clutched onto me so tight I was sure he thought I was going to disappear if he even glanced away. I didn't know what to feel, so I just concentrated on the tingling sensation that was crawling up and down my spine at the attention that he was lavishing on me. But the closer we got to the studio, the more anxious I became.

  Everything was up in the air and there was no way of knowing where shit was going to land. There was no way of knowing how the guys would take it, if they even approved of us being together…fuck and what if Mick got kicked out of the band because of his stupid stunt?

  "You okay?" he murmured into my ear as the cab pulled up.

  Nodding, I tossed a couple of notes to the driver.

  "It'll be okay, Sasha," he went on as he helped me out.

  "Will it?"

  "Of course it will. C'mere." He pulled me into his side, planting a kiss on my temple.

  "It's like we're going to face a firing squad."

  "They'll be cool."

  "You think?"

  "I know so."

  And with that, he ushered me inside. There was no turning back, we'd past the point of no return the night he'd tagged along to that punk gig out in the ghetto. The line was obliterated when he'd stood in my hotel room and fingered the fuck outta me.

  When we walked into the studio, everyone dropped their instruments and stared at us. Mick tightened his arm around me and I grimaced, waiting for the tirade. Tension meet knife. West had a look that screamed 'protective other brother' plastered on his face, Joe just started laughing and Rob rolled his eyes.

  "Fucking hell," Joe exclaimed before anyone could say anything. "That whole love hate bullshit you guys had going on was driving me bonkers."

  "You knew?" I squeaked.

  "Only since the airport fiasco," West said. "For sure when dickface there walked in with a black eye."

  "Well, I just walked into the fuckin' Galaxy offices and caused another scene," Mick drawled, squeezing my hand.
r />   "The stupid moron walked into my meeting and ranted and raved like a crazy person," I said. "Good news is..." I nodded my head toward Mick. "Bad news…I'm either going to be fired, offered another management gig or there will be a Christmas miracle and I'll be here permanently."

  "But they offered you that other gig, right?" Mick asked, a look of panic flashing through his eyes.

  "I was about to say yes, but I never got the chance."

  "Fuckin' close call."

  "Don't push it, Savage."

  Rob cleared his throat. "We're still fucking here, you know."

  I sighed, giving them all a tired smile. "I guess there's nothing to do until I hear, so back to work you lazy fucks. I'm still in charge until the powers that be say so. Don't you have an album to make?"

  "Fuckin' still crackin' the whip." West just shook his head, his shoulders relaxing.

  "Don't forget the ton of ridiculous demands we need to make to our manager," Joe added with a chuckle.

  A grin spread across my face. "You better milk it Fox, because those days might be numbered."

  "I especially like the part when you punched Savage in the face," Rob said, throwing a drum stick at him. "The broken hand, not so much."

  "Asshole," Mick said, starting to laugh.

  So, everything went on as normal for the next few days. Normal like my head wasn't stuck in a guillotine waiting for the blade to fall. Normal like my hand wasn't in a cast with two hairline fractures. Normal like Mick's eye wasn't still black.

  Affliction went into full time recording, which meant long sessions in the studio and that gave me much needed separation from Mick, who was still groveling on all fours. I hoped it would work out in the end, but I couldn't just turn around and forgive him. I'd been cut deep and that shit took time. Truthfully, I was far from milking it. I'd let up, oh, in about six weeks time when the cast came off my hand.

  I finally got the chance to meet Joe's girlfriend Alexis, who I instantly liked and she gave me some of her books to read in all the downtime. I spent a lot of time with her and Blair while the boys were locked away 'working'. They went out of their way to distract me from the lack of news from Galaxy with shopping trips, lunches, even tattoos. Alexis wrote silly poetry on my cast and Blair covered every available space with little skull and crossbones. And when I went back to the hotel at night, it was to Mick and our singular room. Just me and him and the part we'd skipped between the business of Affliction and our consuming lust…the getting to know you part. Turned out there was more to him than just being good with his fingers.

 

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