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

by Lexxi Chase

  “He’ll give the gun back eventually,” she reassured him, then added, “Is that seriously the main thing on your mind? I would have died for you, for Christsake! Isn’t that more important than anything else?”

  He looked at her for a moment before flopping down on the pillow, groaning deeply and closing his eyes.

  “Whatever, Amanda,” he grumbled. “I got a plane to catch in less than six hours. I gotta get some rest.”

  She sat staring at him in stunned silence for a few minutes. Watching his even, deep breathing as he settled into comfort and sleep. Dear God, she agonized, wincing from the sudden heaviness crippling her chest. What more could I have done, she wondered. What more can I possibly do? How can I ever make up for everything and even begin to regain Jake’s trust? He opened his eyes and glared at her.

  “Wanna shut off the fuckin’ light? I got a tour to get back to tomorrow.”

  “And I gotta open a show in Vegas,” she sniped.

  She clicked off the light and slid down despondently between the sheets. How could I have been so incredibly stupid, she thought. He was within a hair’s breadth from really killing me, she shuddered. That hole in my wall could’ve been in my skull. Damn, she yanked the sheets up protectively around her. I almost died and he doesn’t give a shit. Maybe nothing, ever again, would make a difference to Jake.

  Seconds turning to minutes felt like hours as she lay beside him, close to the protective heat of his body as he settled comfortably into the bliss of sleep. Turning over, she could see his sensual outline beneath the moonlight streaming through her window and she strained her eyes for a better view. God, he looks so incredible, she thought, even now after everything that’s happened. His luscious, full lips were slightly parted. His long brown hair cascaded seductively down his shoulders onto the sheets, partially covering his face and eyes.

  “Jake?” she whispered before she realized what she was doing.

  “Hmmm,” he mumbled softly beneath the shroud of sleep.

  Shit, she regained her senses. It was best not to wake him. But tossed all misgivings aside as she inched closer to his welcoming, hard body.

  “Can I...can I hold you...please...just for a little while?”

  His eyes snapped open and she was gripped by panic.

  “Please...” she begged anyway, “because after tomorrow...”

  “There are no tomorrows with me!” he snarled, “Ya still can’t get that through your fuckin’ head?”

  It was like a bomb ripped her open and tore through her. The weight of a thousand elephants suddenly crushing her chest. She covered her face with her hands dismally. Blocking reality. Wishing she really had ended up dead. But as the tears of desolation overwhelmed her, he slid over and cradled her in his arms.

  “Fuckin’ relax,” he whispered softly. “Just try and get some sleep.”

  He held her like that, incredibly tightly, until her retching sobs subsided, her breathing grew quiet and her desperate grip around his shoulders relaxed. He looked at her a long, long time before moving. She looks so innocent and naive and angelic, he thought, remembering the party and the pool house on the night they met. Who would have thought she’d bring him such turmoil? Such stress and chaos followed by a winding string of sorrows and regret.

  He eased out of her grip slowly, still gazing at her as he risked waking her by gently caressing her hair. A small, tiny taste of heaven before hell prevailed.

  Nearly overcome with pain and grief as he tiptoed to his suitcase, he had to stop for a minute and regain control. The anger and jealousy and humiliation washed over him in recurring tides of emasculation. Nothing he did or thought about calmed his racing heart. Rummaging through his suitcase, he finally laid hands on his revolver. The backup Ruger Single Six hidden deep within his clothing. Did anyone think he was stupid enough to bring just one gun?

  Although loading it in semi-darkness, he made sure to fill all the chambers. Zero chances to live. Six chances to die tonight.

  Chapter 21

  “Hey motherfucker, I just fucked your ex-girlfriend. She still likes it hard and fast and wet.”

  Wade flinched at the sound of Jake’s voice behind him. Still sitting on the bench not far from the cat houses, he’d been deep in somber, remorseful thought. Jake’s approaching footsteps had been muted by Morocco’s, and now some of the other cats’ persistent, urgent vocalizations. The cats were disturbing. Jake was a nightmare.

  “And you’re tellin’ me this, why?” he asked, standing to face him.

  Jake stood stoic, not even a smirk or trace of irritation or anger on his face. He’d dressed quickly in his haste and impatience to find and confront Wade and had thrown on a plain black t-shirt and old ripped and faded jeans. His hair was uncombed, still messy and disheveled from his earlier scuffles with Amanda but even so, as always, he looked remarkably confident, handsome and poised.

  Jesus, Wade thought, reluctant to admit it even to himself, I can see what Amanda sees in this guy. Dangerously enticing, imposing and arrogant, he’s got me outmaneuvered, outdistanced and trumped, hands down without any need for competition. I’m pretty sexy and attractive, he thought, but Jake’s allure and magnetic induction are way over the top. He could see why Amanda coveted and loved him so much.

  “How’s it feel to know your big trip here was nothin’ but a fuckin’ complete waste ‘a time?”

  Wade composed himself, stepped away from the bench and slid his hands into his jean pockets.

  “Depends what ya consider a waste,” he said.

  Jake laughed, superior and arrogant. His deep, urgent green eyes flared.

  “Like ya didn’t come here hopin’ to get your dick wet. If Amanda hadn’t been so fuckin’ hurt and angry with me five years ago ya never woulda gotten into her in the first place.”

  Visions of room 14 at the Maple Leaf Motel flashed in Wade’s head.

  “Maybe...maybe not,” he said but knew he was lying.

  Jake took a step closer. Wade didn’t back up.

  “Yeah? You’re either clinically delusional or just way more fuckin’ stupid than I thought.”

  Wade snickered.

  “Does it matter?” he laughed and risked pissing Jake off even further. “Either way pal, I musta been doin’ somethin’ right. I’m still here.”

  Floored by Wade’s incredible audacity, it took Jake a few seconds to react. His body heated and trembled as rage, jealousy and crippling pain washed over him in a tidal wave powerful enough to rattle his heart.

  “You ain’t been doin’ nothin’ right, prick,” he sneered, “it’s just that she thought I was doin’ somethin’ wrong.”

  “You were,” Wade said.

  They stood glaring at each other for a few moments until finally, Jake took a deep breath and scowled, “Yeah, like you’re one to talk about loyalty, ya piece ‘a fuckin’ useless shit.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Wade’s eyes narrowed. “I sure as fuck wouldn’t be cheatin’ on her now.”

  Jake swallowed, hard, and wondered if Amanda had gone running to Wade to cry on his shoulder about the lovely videos he’d made with Misty. God, Jake flinched as the unimaginable thought hit him. Wade had arrived more than a full day before him and Amanda hadn’t been in the hospital the whole time. Those videos probably sent her careening straight into his arms. Not like Wade, or Amanda, would admit it now or give him a straight answer. He’d have to make both of them pay, just in case.

  “My fuckin’ loyalty is none ‘a your goddamn business,” Jake exploded, taking a few steps forward, raking back the hair that had fallen into his face. “As a matter of fact,” he snarled venomously, “ya got no fuckin’ business bein’ here at all.”

  “Amanda made it my business,” Wade answered coolly, not stepping back even an inch.

  “Amanda...” Jake whispered softly, arrogantly, his voice forlorn, lost and cold. “Amanda just showed me she loves me enough to die for me. I doubt, motherfucker, she ever felt anything close to that fo
r you.”

  Jake’s alarming revelation hit Wade like a wrecking ball. Not because he doubted its legitimacy. He already knew it was true. Fighting the tangled waves of devastation and panic, he struggled to remain tough and formidable, to come up with the right stinging comeback and find out just what the hell Jake had done. Amanda would die for him, everyone knew that. But Jesus, he thought, is Jake really angry and crazy enough to actually kill her to prove it and make it come true?

  “You don’t know the first thing about any relationship I’ve had with Amanda,” he snarled, “way back when we were in high school or when she visited Conroy five years ago. But that isn’t really the point, is it? What the fuck have ya done Jake? If ya...” he paused, “if ya did anything to hurt her I’ll fuckin’ kill ya right now and plant ya six feet in the ground.”

  Stunned for a moment by Wade’s unrelenting bravado and needless over-reaction – the ignorant cocksucker had no idea that for the time being at least, Amanda was alive and well and sleeping peacefully in her bed – Jake froze. Arrogant, intrusive prick, he thought, finally reaching under his t-shirt and pulling the Ruger from where it was tucked behind the waistband of his jeans.

  “I got a better idea,” he rasped. “Ya tuck your stinkin’ tail between your legs and crawl on home to Buttfuck, Texas where ya belong.”

  “No,” Wade growled, actually taking a step forward. “I don’t even think ‘a leaving here till I know Amanda’s all right and ya haven’t hurt her. I go nowhere unless she asks me to leave.”

  Fury and indignation smothered Jake like a pressurized casket. Diminishing the pressure, he lifted and cocked the gun. Wade stepped closer until Jake leveled it straight at his head.

  “Your choice, motherfucker,” he sneered. “Body bag’s a good a way to get home as any.”

  “Not leavin’,” Wade repeated.

  “No? What is it with you morons?” he laughed. “This is the second time I gotta say this tonight, but if ya haven’t noticed, I’m the one with the fuckin’ gun.”

  “What was the first?” Wade asked.

  “None ‘a your concern,” Jake took a step forward.

  This bastard was dying to get himself killed.

  Wade knew it too and, briefly forgetting about Amanda, thought dismally, am I going to get out of here alive?

  “Surprised at ya Jake,” he said casually. “Didn’t think ya were this worried ‘bout me, and didn’t think ya needed a gun to fight like a man.”

  ***

  Amanda stirred, half rolling over, tossing fitfully underneath the satin sheets of her usually comfortable bed. In her dream she was crying desperately in her bathroom, shaking as she washed the blood from her face. Cleaning up in preparation for the livestream, she turned to Jake in the doorway but he’d disappeared. She dropped the washcloth and went to look for him in the bedroom but the room was darkened except for the blue spotlight illuminating the center of her bed.

  “Jake?” she called, wondering where he’d gone to but the twinge in the pit of her stomach told her this was anything but good.

  Straining her eyes, she noticed him cloaked in moonlit shadows by the window. He wasn’t looking at her and he wasn’t alone. His arms were around the shoulders of the woman facing him and as she pressed her body against his she let out a low moan.

  “Jake!” Amanda hissed in shock and disappointment and gasped loudly when he emerged from the shadows with Misty in tow.

  He was holding her hand even as Amanda stared at them in horror.

  “What are you doing here?” she snarled as she crossed the room.

  “Jake invited me,” Misty smiled sweetly, “but anyway, I think you already know.”

  Stopping cold a few feet from them, Amanda breathed deeply. Struggling to contain her abhorrence, stay sane and to fill her aching lungs with life-giving air.

  “Get the fuck out!” she snarled savagely but Misty merely stared at her, then looked at Jake with awe and adoration infused on her face.

  Leaving Amanda standing there like an idiot, Jake led Misty by the hand to the middle of the bedroom. They crawled, smiling and laughing, beneath the blue spotlight framing the bed.

  “Jake, get this slut outa here, I mean it!” Amanda shrieked loud enough to burn her lungs.

  But Jake was occupied, as usual, and simply ignored her. As Amanda watched in agony and horror, he knelt before Misty and ran his hands commandingly through her long blonde hair. This can’t be happening, Amanda was thinking, then cringed as he leaned forward to kiss her. Long and hard and deep. Realizing Jake and Misty were suddenly naked, Amanda shrieked and covered her face with her hands. But peaked between her fingers because for some insane reason she was compelled to look.

  Kneeling over Jake and poised to accept him, Misty lowered herself appreciatively, moaning thankfully as she slid down sensuously onto his hard cock.

  “Stop!” Amanda screamed but they continued to ignore her.

  She was riding him hard, leaning over and kissing him as they wrapped their arms around each other in lustful embrace.

  “Nooooo!” this time Amanda screamed loudly enough to wake herself. “No...” she groaned, gasping for air.

  Jesus, she opened her eyes in lingering terror. She was still here, but now safe in her bedroom. No blue spotlight and Jake sleeping peacefully beside her. She moved and stretched her leg to touch him reassuredly but realized with a start that he wasn’t there. Twisting, then sitting bolt upright in panic, it took her a few seconds to absorb this new nightmare.

  Where the fuck is he, she asked herself desperately, where the hell has he gone? She crawled to the foot of her bed frantically to see if his suitcase remained on the floor but her momentary relief spiraled quickly to terror. He was still here and left the bedroom to complete his revenge.

  “Morocco!” she murmured breathlessly as she rushed to her dresser to see if her keys to the tiger house and cages were gone.

  Tossing socks and underwear around in her frenzy to find them, she inadvertently buried them in clothing and thought they were gone. God no, she agonized, shaking uncontrollably as she yanked on her robe. The room spun and her world was crumbling. What if it’s too late, she thought.

  Oh my God, she forced herself to stop thinking altogether as she bolted out her bedroom door. Her hallway seemed foreign, menacing, as she raced down it in sheer delirium. Her screams were incredibly loud even though they were silent, echoing and resounding only inside her own head.

  Even so, Rachel and Katelyn and Tyler were awoken. Her thudding feet and heavy panting were enough to rouse them from difficult and uncomfortable sleep. While the girls struggled to focus their eyes in the darkness, wondering what the hell was happening now, Tyler leapt from under his covers and ran to the dresser to retrieve his gun.

  ***

  “I don’t need no fuckin’ gun, dickwipe,” Jake snarled viciously, “and I sure as fuck ain’t too worried ‘bout some wannabe pimped up leach like you.”

  “Coulda fooled me,” Wade said.

  Jake glared at him in amazement but didn’t lower his gun. No doubt, this loser’s admiration for and loyalty to Amanda had gifted him with more balls than brains. Amanda often seemed to have that effect on men.

  “Why don’t ya lose the weapon, rockstar? We’ll see how good ya are without it. Without the bright lights ‘n screamin’ fans that make ya feel invincible and much more powerful and important than ya really are.”

  As much as Jake wanted to kill him before, this spiked his resentment and anger a thousandfold. Who the fuck did this raving idiot think he was? Amanda must’ve done a fantastic job on him, he stewed, to make him feel so indestructible, daring and unafraid. To make him think he’s anywhere near on par with me, he thought. And decided it would be way more fun and gratifying to put this moron in his place and beat the living shit out of him with his bare hands.

  “You got it, asshole,” Jake sneered and tossed the weapon. “Say your fuckin’ prayers.”

  He lunged forward befor
e Wade had a second to even think about reacting, landing on him with such violent force they both tumbled to the ground. Although Jake had the advantage, straddling Wade as he punched him repeatedly in the face and neck, Wade managed more than a few good blows that sent Jake reeling, almost backwards off of him and into the ornate wooden bench. Jake was shocked to feel blood pouring from his mouth and nose.

  Wade fought dirty, thinking of Amanda possibly lying dead in her bedroom with a bullet wound to her head. As Jake shifted his position to slide higher on top of him, Wade lifted his right knee and jabbed Jake with all he was worth right in the crotch. Any other of Wade’s past opponents would have faltered at this point but Jake, in the grips of raging jealousy and fury, ignored the pain, fought harder and landed three more crushing blows to Wade’s head.

  “Think ya can take me, ya scumsucking loser?” Jake screamed. “Ya fight like a fuckin’ girl and you’re gonna die like one too!”

  He tangled his hands roughly in Wade’s long wild hair, his fingers having trouble gripping as they slid along dirt, wet grass and blood.

  “Wanna fuck my girlfriend?!” Jake screamed maniacally as he smashed Wade’s head down, over and over and over again into the blood-soaked grass beside the bench.

  Somehow, thinking of Amanda, Wade retrieved the near last of his energy, and wrapped his bloodied hands frantically around Jake’s throat. It became a contest who’d die first, Jake by strangulation or Wade by severe trauma to his head. Gasping for air and dazed by the pain and pressure around his throat and neck, Jake untangled his fingers from Wade’s hair and punched him, this time more brutally, in the face again and again.

  Game over motherfucker, he was thinking, but couldn’t get the words out. His throat and chest were on fire. He thought his lungs would burst. So he kept on hitting and pounding, long after Wade’s bloodied hands slid slowly off his throat, a long time after Wade lay still, unmoving and checked out of the fight and probably out of this world as well.