Twisted Rhythm: A Dark Rockstar Romance (Twisted Rhythm Series Book 1)

by Lexxi Chase

  “What?!”

  “Let it go buddy. Shit happens. That was then and this is now.”

  “Well aren’t you fucking Lord Byron with your poetic earth shattering romantic advice!”

  Jesse flinched and handed Wade what was left of the joint.

  “Sorry, no fuckin’ need to ream me up the ass or anything, just meant that you could be a whole lot happier just lettin’ that shit with Amanda go.”

  Wade scowled and turned to stare out the window as they drove. Kicking himself and knowing that Jesse was probably right. Jesse had been with him at Mustang Cherry’s the night Amanda walked in, dressed seductively in black and brown leathers and chains, intent on completely conquering her old haunt, itching to raise hell and party, to make her new mark on Conroy and everything it represented and to blur the anguish and pain that clung to her from her tumultuous life in L.A.

  Heads turned and people gasped as she strode in. Confident, determined, and ready to play. Breathtakingly beautiful in her brown and black excruciatingly short fringed leather mini skirt, matching bikini top and jeweled and studded high cut cowboy boots. She blazed through the parting crowd, all eyes on her, and headed straight to the purple-and-gold-lighted bar. She knew the way. Sitting to her left, far in the back of the room, Jesse jabbed Wade roughly in the shoulder and nodded towards Amanda. He’d been wondering what everyone was gaping at.

  She approached the bar, squeezing between laughing and shouting customers, and J.T. abandoned the drink he was mixing and ran to take her order, beaming and smiling ear to ear.

  She considered whiskey straight up, Jake’s favorite poison. What better way to start out her evening of wanton amusement and revenge? But instead, she simply asked for a bottle of Bud. No sense in rushing the party, or at least the party she was hoping to have.

  Melinda and Casey bailed on her, calling her at the last minute to say they couldn’t get away. More like they don’t want to, she thought. Guess their husbands aren’t too keen on their girls’ night out when the life of the party is their questionable high school girlfriend turned Playboy centerfold and notorious big cat wrangler. Too bad, but with pain and jealousy fueling her fire, she knew she could handle things solo until things fell into place. It didn’t take long.

  “Jesus!” Wade turned to Jesse.

  Even Jesse’s then-girlfriend Samantha was in awe.

  “She looks so gooooood!” she exclaimed.

  Within seconds, Amanda was surrounded by eager partyers, mostly male, in total amazement that she actually stood there, in real life, directly in front of them.

  “Wow! What brings you to Conroy?”

  “Holy shit! Never thought you ever came to Texas, much less this place!”

  “I heard you used to come here, way back. I can’t believe you actually just walked in the door.”

  Amanda smiled. She was used to people being surprised at seeing her. Like she just materialized on stage with the cats and didn’t exist anywhere outside of that realm. It wasn’t quite as bad in California, where people were more accustomed to seeing celebrities away from the bright lights and cameras, out shopping, tanning at the beach or just out for a stroll. But this was Conroy, after all, and no one, absolutely no one of importance, ever came here.

  “I grew up here guys. Everyone’s born somewhere,” she laughed. “And I was thirsty.”

  “What brings you back here?”

  Ignoring the sudden vision of Jake entangled, sweaty, and moaning sensually with the three babes on his red-satin-covered high post bed, she said sweetly, “It was the perfect time for a visit, that’s all.”

  The crowd grew larger around her but no one in particular garnered her attention. Excusing herself politely, she strolled over to the stand-up bar and placed her drink on the wooden counter when she noticed Wade strutting towards her. He was impossible to miss.

  Decked out in tight black leather pants, black muscle shirt and silver-studded black leather jacket he ruled the room. Dangling silver chains bounced against his hips as he walked. Silver and gold medallions, chains and bracelets hung from his neck and wrists. His hair’s gotten so much longer, Amanda mused and caught her breath. This is more like it, she thought, as he arrived in front of her and their eyes locked.

  “My life’s just full ‘a surprises,” he said, smiling wickedly with the look Amanda remembered so well.

  “All of ‘em good I hope,” she grinned back and slowly, lusciously, ran her fingers through her shining long blonde hair.

  “Now they are,” he laughed, his voice rich, deep and beckoning.

  “Not here all by your lonesome are you?” she probed.

  He knew where this was heading and laughed, “Nope. Here with Jesse, he’s the singer in my band, and just some girls we know.”

  “You have a band?”

  Amanda was shocked, thinking it figures, but managed to keep an even look on her face.

  “How long you had the band? What’s it called?”

  Wade smirked coolly. He could see, actually feel, how this really got her juices flowing. Deciding then, to take full advantage.

  “Nothin’ huge like your boyfriend’s. We just play locally, sometimes a couple ‘a hours away. Mostly on weekends ‘cause we got other jobs. We’re called Heartbreaker.”

  Amanda smiled, lifting her beer in salute.

  “How appropriate,” she said.

  Wade grinned, “Hey, I could take that a couple ‘a ways!”

  “Take it any way you want to,” she said slowly, laughing and smiling wider.

  Fuck, Wade was thinking, I forgot how gorgeous, how fuckin’ bright blue her eyes are.

  “Your hair looks better,” she crooned. “So much longer. When’d you add the blonde?”

  He’d previously been dark brown with hair a few inches past his shoulders. Now at various lengths and flowing to his waist, and black with chunks of platinum blonde throughout, it looked amazing enough for Amanda to imagine it flowing along her naked body, wrapped around her legs and grasped in her hands. His bangs were long, chin length, and hung decadently across his face, into his eyes, reminiscent of Tarzan in the jungle. And wild boys always did it for Amanda.

  “Couple years ago. You like?”

  She sighed, “A lot.”

  Even in disbelief that this was happening, Wade remained calm, at least composed on the surface.

  How the hell did I let this one go, he thought, but simply said, “Wanna meet my friends?”

  “Sure,” Amanda said, and they walked to Wade’s table in the back as cell phones raised and people craned their heads.

  “You’re bein’ filmed,” Wade looked at her in awe.

  “We’re being filmed,” she laughed and casually took his arm.

  Jesse stood when they reached the table. True gentleman, Wade snickered internally, and introduced him to Amanda and also did the intros to Samantha and Jenny who’d just arrived. Amanda noticed that while Samantha, “Sam” as she preferred to be called, smiled genuinely, Jenny did little to keep the anger off her face. Amanda ignored the blatant slight. A seasoned performer, she kept the smile perfectly positioned on her face. All the while thinking Wade just better ditch this skanky, redneck bitch.

  For a moment she remembered her long forgotten agony at being dumped for Brittney but quickly forced herself to move on. That was a world away, a lifetime before she’d re-emerged as Amanda, and she could see by the look on Wade’s face that he liked what he saw. Nevertheless, men were unpredictable, her mind flashed on Jake, and she mentally constructed an escape plan that would leave her in top form, master of her game. But there was no need.

  She was the star of the table, not to mention the bar, and Wade clung hungrily to her every word and glued himself to her every move. The only time she escaped his attentions was the bathroom and even then he waited patiently outside the doors. Afraid there’d be trouble or a confrontation. After all, it wasn’t every day that Conroy’s scheming, jealous bitches had to deal with a coveted celebrity an
d real life Barbie doll taking over their turf.

  But everyone was more than nice to her, even the girls. Many actually asked for her autograph and had their pictures taken with her. They asked about Jake, what he was really like, about her tigers and lions, how she trained them for her shows, about what she thought of Conroy, what she thought she’d be doing here if she’d stayed, about her home and cat facilities in California, what her life was actually like most of the time when she was off stage. She enjoyed every minute, more so as the night steamed on and drinks flowed. She lost count of how many bottles of Bud she downed and then there were the multiple shots.

  At one point Wade believed he’d lost her. In the middle of a lively conversation about herbal weight loss with Sam, Amanda suddenly slammed down her drink and screamed, “I love this song!” She leapt from her chair and rushed to the dance floor unattended. Before anyone at her table could run to join her, she was leading a packed snake dance across the floor, followed by most of the women she’d met in the bar and a multitude of others she hadn’t had a chance yet to get to know. Everyone in the room was going crazy until most of the bar was singing with the snake dancers as they sang along to Carrie Underwood’s Before He Cheats.

  ...I dug my key into the side

  Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive

  Carved my name into his leather seats

  I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights

  I slashed a hole in all four tires

  Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats...

  This scene, in all its raucousness and glory, was one of the first video mementoes Jake later saw commemorating Amanda’s rebellious trip to Conroy. There were countless others of course, because nearly every patron at Mustang Cherry’s that night had a cell phone with video capabilities. And this was also about the time the first paparazzi strolled in. Too drunk to notice immediately, Amanda clued in when one of the snake-dancing women told her. Unperturbed, her only thought was what the fuck took them so long? This was already her second day in town.

  The song ended but Amanda’s party mood didn’t. She joined a table full of the ladies with some of their boyfriends and sucked back three Alabama Slammer shots in a row before Wade showed up to slow her down. Standing, she stumbled into him as he deftly slid his arm around her waist to lead her away. Amidst the entire table’s protests and Amanda’s assertions she’d been winning the drinking contest, Wade held his own, kept his cool, and maneuvered her back to safety, his table and his control.

  Expertly sliding her back into her seat, he whispered protectively in her ear, “Gotta be more careful baby, this ain’t L.A. For a minute there I thought I was gonna lose ya.”

  Slamming through her drunken haze like a jackhammer, his comment stunned her.

  She straightened in her chair, looked him in the eyes pointedly, and said, “Really Wade? Seriously?! You oughta remember I’m not the one who has a problem with loyalty.”

  Their table went silent. Jenny glared at Wade but he remained transfixed on Amanda. It took him a second to compose himself.

  “Touche,” he smiled, nodded, and took his seat.

  Amanda looked away, swept back the hair hanging in her eyes and reached for her beer. Do I really want to go there, she thought. Dealing with one lying, cheating motherfucker is enough. No sense in pushing away the one I currently have under control. Then, with a sudden pang of insecurity, she wondered, is he really wrapped around my finger? Or is he going to dump me again and leave the bar with this stupid bitch Jenny tonight?

  It was a moot point however because Jenny rose.

  “Yeah Wade,” she screamed, “Amanda here is right on the money. She seems to know you well but don’t fuckin’ worry, I’m a fast learner!”

  She grabbed her purse and stormed from the table. No one said anything, until Wade finally spoke.

  “Well that’s zero for two, anyone else wanna take a shot at me while the goin’s good?”

  Jesse and Sam remained quietly stunned, looking at each other and then at Amanda. But Amanda had calmed down. I only want one thing from Wade, she thought, and now my competition, if I can even call her that, is history. At least for tonight. And tonight is all I want, and need.

  She looked at Wade, who returned her gaze cautiously.

  “Let’s dance,” she said, and slid her hand slowly up his arm.

  And so in the tacky jam-packed roadhouse deep in southeastern Texas, in the bar that couldn’t decide between country and rock n’ roll, Amanda made up her mind decisively, inevitably sealing her fate with Jake and shattering their already turbulent relationship. She danced with Wade, and Wade alone, until she was barely able to walk and stand from the beer and double shots she consumed, until he was holding her up not only for the slow dances but also for the thrashing, grinding heavy metal and rock n’ roll. The DJ, of course, recognized her and excluded his usual Steel Demon songs until, near the end of the night, she stumbled to his booth and personally requested one. He was shocked but let it roll.

  As the first chords of Spread Eagle Bitch thundered through the steamy rundown roadhouse, shaking its wooden rafters and trembling tables - Amanda had asked for it real fuckin’ loud – the raucous over-capacity crowd went absolutely ballistic. Jake’s noted absence, conspicuous before, became even more prominent, and his infamous anthem became a slap in his face in the wake of Amanda’s behavior and her antics with Wade.

  As the riotous crowd around them raised their drinks and danced, Amanda grabbed Wade’s hand and pulled him seductively back to the dance floor. His discomfort at being reminded he was partying with Jake’s woman quickly faded as she wrapped her legs around him and smiled. Even Jesse and Sam joined them on the dance floor. And once again cell phones raised and paparazzi cameras rolled to eternalize Amanda’s special homecoming for all the world, including Jake, to see.

  “Gettin’ outa the truck?”

  Jesse’s question jarred him. Wade snapped back to reality to find they’d arrived at Bernie’s diner for their burgers and beer. Jesse was already heading towards the front door. Fuck, Wade thought, his sweet remembrances of Amanda fading fast, back to the daily grind of my life as a working man in Buttfuck Texas. He’d nearly guzzled all of his first beer when their food arrived and his cell chimed with the texts that changed his life forever.

  Chapter 10

  Nice boys don’t fight...but whoever said I like nice boys? Showdown at my place. Winner takes all :)

  Amanda leaned forward, clutching her cell, reading and re-reading her inflammatory tweet until the words swam together on the screen like a swarm of distressed jellyfish. Jumbled, blurry, and potentially poisonous, lethal with every unanticipated twist and turn. Just like the situation she was creating. Just like her life. Sighing, she read her tweet again. Direct, uncomplicated, and guaranteed to incite. Not only the already raging hurricane on the internet, but Wade and Jake as well.

  I have no choice, she told herself, leaning back and desperately trying to get comfortable for the hour and a half that remained of her flight. If I do absolutely nothing, I’ve probably already lost Jake forever. And that would be immeasurably unbearable.

  My only hope, she reasoned, is to propel him, provoke him, to react. Any action, any emotion on his part, was better than nothing at all. Far better than the agonizing days turned months then years of vacuous oblivion she’d already endured following their breakup in her tiger house. I can’t survive another three years of emptiness, rejection and banishment, she told herself, then read her tweet again and once more for good measure.

  Between her conspicuous play date with Wade, her brazen release of Heart of Steel, and last night’s piercing confession, she’d already over-extended all limits and boundaries with Jake. This tweet, she reassured herself, was her only hope of salvation, her one and only last chance to recapture Jake and regain his affections, even if these affections reignited volatile obsessions and raunchy perversions. He wouldn’t, just couldn’t ignore her. His pride,
his ego, his reputation were at stake. And hopefully, his feelings for her - Was she going insane? She’d felt them, tasted them enmeshed within his ripe unrestrained sexuality, pain and rage - would explode to the surface so powerfully that even he’d see and finally acknowledge their existence.

  Oh God, she sighed, and sank back in her seat, exhausted. Should I text Kat to pick me up, she wondered. But can I really stand to be trapped with her and her incessant, probing questions for the hour or more ride home? Fuck that, she decided, and opted instead to catch a cab. Maneuvering solo through the barrage of paparazzi was immeasurably preferable to dealing with her much-too-personal personal assistant.

  Lately Katelyn had developed a total disregard of privacy and boundaries, not to mention an erratic change of moods. What fuckin’ good is she, Amanda wondered, if I have to avoid her? Rather than an asset, Katelyn had become a liability, annoying baggage. Maybe I should just let her go, Amanda thought.

  “Can I get you anything Miss Wilder?” the flight attendant appeared just as she’d finally closed her eyes.

  “Oh, maybe just some orange juice and a croissant or whatever you have there.”

  Even as she ate, Amanda was acutely aware of prying eyes. Not only the passengers beside her but across the aisle and elsewhere in her vicinity as well. Well used to the interest of the public, it rarely bothered her. But today, today was the dismal culmination of everything she’d thought about, worked towards, in the past three and a half years since Jake’s trial, his acquittal and their agonizing goodbye within her tiger house. That night, she thought ironically, new fragile lives were conceived while hers was viciously torn apart. Shredded of almost all meaning, hope and happiness when Jake drove off into the harboring night.