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

by Lexxi Chase

  “Jenny and Mark wanted to come,” she said, “I mean they’ve got a week off school anyway, thanks to me, but I told them this might not be the best time for a visit, with all the stuff goin’ on.”

  Wade looked at her evenly.

  “Shit’s all over the internet, remember? Including your amusing little Facebook post.”

  She pulled onto the I-45 entrance ramp and skillfully merged into building traffic before she eyed him curiously, confused by his rigid silence, before she spoke again.

  “You gonna post something else?”

  “Made my point already,” he asserted, shifting decisively in his seat and settling in, leaning back for the long ride.

  “The bastard called you a backwoods loser lowlife or whatever,” she grumbled, “You just gonna take that?”

  He bristled.

  “I’m goin’ aren’t I?!” After a few moments he continued, “This seems to be all fun and games for you Rachel. But it’s stone cold shit reality for me and Jake. One of us could fuckin’ wind up dead. And God knows what all of this is really doin’ to Amanda.”

  “She started it,” Rachel gasped. “We...you I mean, have to finish it.”

  “Yeah? What’s in it for you?” Wade prodded, “Why d’ya hate Amanda so much?”

  “I don’t hate Amanda,” she lied.

  “Yeah, you do,” he paused, “from the time you pimped out your good friend Brittney and wouldn’t leave it alone till she practically sat on my cock.”

  She laughed.

  “Hey, I think you and Brittney had a lot to do with that too don’t ya think? Don’t blame me you couldn’t keep it zipped with your loaded dick in your pants.”

  He sighed. This was going nowhere but a huge, unresolvable argument fast.

  “I fucked up,” he admitted, and thought immediately about Jesse’s texts pelting in late last night and this morning too, even before the sun came up.

  Thankfully he’d only touched on his irreparable infidelity to Amanda in their high school days. But he ragged on their joint sins and shameless antics at Mustang Cherry’s and the Maple Leaf Motel. Huge mistakes, he said. Trying to rectify the uncorrectable. Ur bein used, he texted. Amanda only wants Jake. And that blazing truth had scorched into his already blistering scars. Ur bein played, he ended with advice he’d already doled out a thousand times before.

  Brooding on those words, playing Jake’s onstage rant over and over in his head, Wade grabbed his cell and signed into Facebook. If I’m being played, he thought, I might as well enjoy playing, and ramped up his game.

  U got an amazing way with words Jake. But this is real life pal and not a rant and not a song. This backwoods loser wannabe just donned his shining armor. On my way to redeem and rescue the damsel in distress. Got any problems with that R O C K S T A R ? U even got the junk to let me know?

  ***

  “How ‘bout some nice cold watermelon?” Katelyn urged, checking on Amanda once again as she rested in her lounge chair under the awning near the pool.

  “I told ya to fuck off already. My head’s pounding and I’m gonna throw up.”

  No wonder, Katelyn mused silently. Not like you don’t deserve it.

  “If you eat something light and healthy it’ll settle your stomach.”

  Or make me barf, Amanda thought, and simply glared at her until she threw up her arms and walked away. The bitch has no idea, she thought, about what a monstrous hangover feels like. She’d barely drank even in their high school days. Not like I’m normally a lush either, Amanda thought, but before settling down and getting serious about working with wildlife and later, her Beast Mistress show, she’d done her fair share of tossing them back and partying. Then of course she’d given alcoholics a run for their money in Conroy at Mustang Cherry’s. Like that little bit of raising hell turned out well for me, she lamented.

  Wade and Rachel would be arriving soon, she glanced at her cell. It was already almost 10 a.m. and she expected them to stroll in about half past eleven. Shit, like I need her here of all people, especially the way I look and feel today, especially with all the nasty shit going on. Wade was another story. I need him, she acknowledged, almost hating herself for admitting it. Chiding herself for all the reasons why.

  She stretched out despairingly on her lounge chair, brushing her long bangs from her eyes and pressed her palms against her throbbing forehead and temples. His presence just might incite Jake to come over, despite Jake’s flagrant infidelity and resolute dismissal of her requested showdown last night. She knew, she prayed, that Jake would still fume at Wade’s presence, his audacity and unbelievable confidence, and that Wade’s visit would re-ignite storming deep-seated jealousies and fuel Jake’s still boiling rage at her shameless one night stand. Especially since her confession five days ago.

  Damn, could things get much worse? She glumly rolled over and played Jake’s obscene videos over once more in her head. Disgusting, vulgar, conceited prick, she fumed, realizing yet another reason she needed Wade, wanted Wade, here with her, backing her, here and now.

  Closing her eyes wearily, she remembered room 14 at the Maple Leaf Motel and Wade’s excitement, lavish compliments, his explorations, brazenness and conquest. And incredibly long silky black and blonde hair, his urgency and familiar touch. He’ll be here for me, she told herself, just as he was then. Strong, encouraging and supportive because he’d known her since the beginning, before she was famous and sinfully rich. But no more indecent fun and games, she thought, and sat bolt upright to slow her uneven breathing and clear her head.

  But will Jake come? The thought plagued her and she instinctively reached for her cell. Is this even his number, she wondered as she brought up the incoming calls and texts in her inbox, petrified to text or call back. I could reach that skanky whore Misty, she recoiled, and froze paralyzed and shuddering with her cell in her hand. Until the lightbulb went off above her still pounding head.

  “Yeah?” Zack’s voice was groggy and resonated of too much booze and way too little sleep.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He lurched bolt upright in bed. He hadn’t looked at call display before answering.

  “Amanda!” his voice broke. “What’s up?”

  “You can go back to sleep in a minute. Just wanna give you a phone number. All you have to say is yes or no.”

  “Huh?” his senses prickled even as he struggled to dissipate the fog.

  “I’m gonna give you the number, so you’re not really giving anything out. I already have it, I think. Just let me know if this is Jake’s cell.”

  His stomach rolled. He should have known her surprise call wasn’t for anything good or exciting. Even as he replied, he berated himself for hoping otherwise.

  “I really don’t know...”

  “Yes, you do. You’re not giving me any information I don’t already have. I just don’t want to call it...if it,” she paused briefly, “if it belongs to someone else.”

  “Like who?” he asked innocently.

  Christ, he was such a child. She really didn’t want to explain.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said.

  “Then why d’ya think it’s Jake’s number?”

  She wanted to scream.

  Because, dickhead, it was apparently the handiest phone to call and text me from last night while he was getting his dick sucked and bangin’ some easy blonde.

  But said instead, “He called me from it last night and I don’t know if he borrowed someone else’s phone.”

  “Why didn’t ya just ask him?”

  He was kinda busy, she neglected to say.

  “Didn’t think of it,” she said. “But anyway, I don’t wanna call it back if it’s someone else so all you have to do is let me know if the number’s his or not.”

  “Shit, Amanda...”

  “You’re not giving me his number! You can’t get in trouble Zack.”

  “Well...”

  She brought it up on her screen and determinedly
read it off to him anyway and waited.

  “Zack?”

  “I don’t know. He’s programmed in my phone.”

  Jesus, what a simpleton! How could I ever, ever, have even considered sleeping with this idiot, no matter how hurt and mad I was at Jake.

  “So check it,” she implored sweetly. “Please.”

  Her heart pounded and skin crawled as she waited and heard him fumbling with his phone.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” he finally said.

  “Thanks so much Zack,” she purred warmly. “Sorry I woke you. You can go back to sleep. Talk to you later,” she hung up before he could reply.

  Now what, she agonized as she sat there, clutching her cell and vacillating on whether she should even make the call or text. And what the hell could she possibly say?

  Zack fared no better in his ponderings, laying back down and tossing and turning as he struggled to sleep. Jake’s prophetic words in Portland rang like a death toll in his ears. Amanda can’t stand to keep anything from me forever. I’m fuckin’ dead, he moaned and shielded himself futilely with the sheets.

  ***

  “Jesus...” Tank grunted after reading Wade’s latest Facebook post. “Just what we all need. What a goddamn freakin’ idiot,” he mumbled as he reached for his cell to put in yet another distress call to J.Z.

  Wouldn’t I love to be behind a marble desk in L.A. right now, away from the turmoil and chaos of the road and out of Jake’s space and anarchic line of fire.

  “You’re up bright and early I see,” J.Z. laughed.

  He wouldn’t be this jovial if he’d seen Wade’s post, Tank thought, and aren’t I the lucky bastard who gets to break it to him. J.Z. took it well, as usual, and like the seasoned entertainment manager he was, kept his cool. That’s why he gets the big bucks, Tank reasoned, and I’m stuck out here for less than half his pay losin’ my sanity and sweatin’ my balls off and shittin’ bricks.

  “Keep Jake calm,” J.Z. instructed. “Tell ‘im the whole fucking world knows this other dude’s nothin’ but a piece of white trash shit tryin’ to make a name for himself, ridin’ his rockstar ass for another chance to be in the limelight. And make sure you tell ‘im either a) that Amanda doesn’t care jack shit about this dickwipe, that she’s just usin’ this idiot again to try and get a reaction outa him, or b) that Amanda’s no better than this hick town jerk off and he should rise above this lowlife crap and be the exalted rock god he is. Feel ‘im out about Amanda first to see which way to play it.”

  Tank groaned.

  “Not gonna matter either way J.Z., soon as he gets wind of this fucker’s Facebook, Jake’s gonna be wound up tighter than a nun’s cunt. And shit’s gonna hit the fan. Maybe even worse than four days ago, maybe even worse than the so-called final incident.”

  “We’re not gonna let that happen. We weren’t with Jake before the final incident. He wasn’t out on the road.”

  He paused in deep thought for a few moments, then continued, “It’s gonna take all of us Tank. I mean you, me and the entire band. Call a meeting immediately, under the radar. Without Jake. Keep me posted.”

  And with that, Tank methodically dialed Shayne, Billy and Zack, apparently waking each from a deep slumber, and summoned them to his room. Zack seemed oddly out of sorts, but he came anyway as commanded and, gratefully sipping the much-needed coffee Tank ordered, the guys leaned in and listened intently to Tank’s plan.

  “So how the fuck we supposed to keep Jake from boardin’ a plane after we play Vegas tonight? Got four days off, remember?” Shayne countered.

  “We make sure he doesn’t want to board that plane,” Tank asserted, adding, “We get Jake wanting to stay away. Convince him it’s the best way to handle shit, whether he wants to beat the crap outa Wade or not, whether he wants to be with Amanda or not.”

  Billy snickered, “Yeah OK, dude. Hope ya got a plan B.”

  “Plan C, Plan D, E, F...need I go on?” Shayne winced.

  Before Tank could elaborate, Zack jumped in.

  “Guys, we’re missin’ the big picture here. It’s soooo fuckin’ obvious. He’ll always wanna be with Amanda, ‘cause he actually wants to or ‘cause he can’t stand the thought of someone else takin’ his place. And he’s gonna go apeshit berserk when he reads Wade’s new post. No goddamn waaaay is anyone gonna come close to makin’ him look like a fuckin’ pansy without payin’ for it bigtime.”

  The room went silent. Everyone stared in awe at Zack. For a man of few, usually inconsequential words, he’d stumbled smack dab into the heart of the problem, hit the nail right on the freaking head. He was right and not one of them could deny it or rationalize it away.

  What they didn’t know however, and Zack prayed they’d never find out, is that in the last four days he’d given the Jake and Amanda situation an inordinate amount of thought. And today, Amanda’s early morning phone call had intensified his fears and nudged his disquieting but growing resolve to do something about it, anything, to set the situation right before Amanda expertly exploited and twisted his involvement.

  “Christ,” Billy muttered, “Zack’s right. Ya might as well call J.Z. and tell ‘im we got nothin’.”

  And as Billy, Shayne and Tank posited and bickered amongst themselves, Zack leaned back unnoticed and mulled over the situation all by himself. No way she wants any real relationship with this Wade dude. He’s nothing but a pawn in her vicious game. Just like I almost was, he remembered and cringed. She’ll stop at nothing, and neither will Jake, to get what they want. No matter what it does to anyone around them. Despite what it’ll do to themselves.

  So, with the others still arguing in the background, Zack sat back and came up with a plan. Not one he could tell them, but maybe the only one that might work. The very last idea he would’ve ever dreamt he’d come up with.

  Better Jake hears it from me, he told himself reluctantly, because he’s going to hear it eventually from Amanda anyway. Better I get a chance to at least give him my side of things before he goes berserk, before he bothers to rush headlong into deranged oblivion with Wade and Amanda at her place in L.A.

  After hearing my wonderful bit of news, Zack thought, with any luck, he might not even bother going there at all. Why fix the recurring leak when the whole fucking dam’s busting and the waterfall’s gushing down on your head? But fuck, Zack shuddered, what the hell’s going to happen to me?

  A half hour later in his room, trembling, sweating, he picked up his cell and called Jake. Balked when he answered but dove right in anyway.

  “She’s not worth it Jake. Ya gotta listen to me.”

  Groggy from too much beer, more than enough sex and less than four hours sleep, Jake rolled over slowly and struggled to make sense of what he just heard. And why Zack dared disturb him at all so early in the morning.

  “What the fuck ya talkin’ about?” he growled but knew in his gut it was nothing good.

  “Amanda. This whole situation with Amanda,” Zack blurted. “That fuckhead Wade just posted again on Facebook to get ya riled up but it’s not worth your time buddy. None ‘a this shit is. You’re just chasin’ your own tail. And it could end worse this time by ya spendin’ the rest ‘a your fuckin’ life in prison. Trust me pal, she’s not worth it.”

  Jake sat up.

  “Oh yeah?” he hissed. “Just what the fuck d’ya think you know about any of this? What the hell gives ya the fuckin’ right to say anything to me about my life at all? Huh, asshole? Why would ya even think you know a rat’s ass about Amanda?”

  “I know more about Amanda than ya think.”

  Zack faltered, but only for a second, then miraculously found the guts and resolve to carry on.

  “She’s not gonna do nothin’ but hurt ya Jake. Wade’s not the only pawn in her game.”

  He paused, gasping for air and courage, then added, “She’ll do anything for revenge and to make ya jealous. She wanted to sleep with me too.”

  The silence on the line was deafening, weighing heavy betwe
en them like billowing fog smothering the horizon after a stifling torrential rain. After an eternity, Jake refocused and got his shit together. He spoke, his voice low and deep and swollen with incredulity and horror and rapidly expanding pain.

  “Ya fuck her?” he asked.

  “No!” Zack screeched but Jake didn’t believe him.

  Closing his eyes, tightly gripping the edge of his mattress and crumpled sheets, Jake rallied against the overpowering weight of agony crushing his chest as he angrily struggled to breathe. What else can this evil cunt do to me, he thought, and quickly remembered he’d wondered the same thing so many times before. Numerous times because of Wade. Then there was that priceless gem of a book she’d written. And now this.

  Zack of all people. I fuckin’ knew it, he thought. Sensed its possibility all along. Even though everyone thought he was being ridiculous. Not as crazy as I seem, motherfuckers. I know Amanda better than she knows herself.

  He suddenly realized Zack was still babbling and he hadn’t heard a word after his resounding No.

  “Not even listenin’,” he interjected. “Not even worth another single second of my time. Pack your shit,” he ordered, “and start wonderin’ when you’re gonna die.”

  “No, Jake...pleaaaaase listen! Ya gotta at least hear what happened. I swear to God I didn’t sleep with her.”

  Met only by dead air on the other end, Zack glanced at his phone to make sure the call hadn’t ended and Jake hadn’t hung up. With literally nothing left to lose, he continued and explained his gullibility in helping her find clothes in Portland, how she cornered him and seduced him, taking off her shirt and then her bra. How he’d been hopelessly entranced by her stunning beauty, innocence and utter helplessness in the face of downfall and how he’d lost rationality and all hope of salvation with her kisses. And how it all ended, thankfully, with his inopportune panic attack.