I pushed the door open of his Ferrari. Jade was mega rich, his label a worldwide success. And now he wanted me to be his next big star. He said I had the looks, the talent, and the voice to take the music world by storm. I thought he was exaggerating, but I wasn’t about to say no to the multimillion dollar deal he was dangling in front of my face.
But first I had to get clean of my addictions or I’d get nothing.
So here I was, looking up at the rehab centre, knowing the next month was going to be like prison.
No alcohol.
No drugs.
No sex.
All of my addictions.
Yeah, the next month was going to be like a bitch bleeding out.
“Righty ho,” Jade said, nodding at the building. “Grab your bag and let’s go in.”
“Don’t call me a ho,” I snapped, pretending to be offended.
His face paled. “I didn’t, it’s a saying.”
I grinned at him. “I know, you’re just so easy to punk.” I gave him a light punch on the arm, then grabbed my bag out of the boot and headed for the rehab’s entrance.
Jade ran after me. “You need to behave in there,” he said, sounding like a mother hen. He was in his forties, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. He was like one of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan, his face eternally youthful.
He continued to blabber on, “You have to respect the counsellors and stick to their rules.”
“I’m not good with rules,” I said, taking the steps two at a time.
He followed me up them like a ballerina, tippy-toeing over every step. I smiled, finding it amusing. Although he didn’t usually act camp, the way he moved up stairs was a sight to behold. It was as if he thought they were covered with grease and was trying to avoid falling onto his girly arse.
“Too bad, it’s required,” he said, shooting in front of me. The sliding door behind him opened, but he ignored it, his concentration fully on me. “If you want the record deal, you do as you’re told.”
I lowered my face to his, which was quite a bend, the guy short. He breathed in sharply, not because he was scared, but because he was still hot for me.
“I will do what’s best for me, Jade,” I said, not allowing him to use the record deal to push me around. “And that’s to get clean, not to make these kumbaya people all smiley happy. If someone pisses me off, I will let ’em know.”
“Just don’t get kicked out. One month. That’s all you need.”
I frowned at him, knowing a month wouldn’t cure me. I was an addict for life. “I’ll stick it out, so don’t worry.”
I stepped around him, entering a good-sized foyer. Jade rushed past me, going to the reception desk. It was a curving chunk of Kauri, the wood polished to perfection. A huge painting of some New Zealand beach was on the wall behind it, nicely rendered, but nowhere near as good as my older brother’s art.
The woman behind the reception desk stopped what she was doing and looked up at Jade as he approached her. She was a hot li’l number, a brunette with a pixie face and pointy tits that reminded me of the fifties. Though she was far too young to be from that era. She looked barely out of her teens, a retro hottie. Not that Jade would notice, the dude preferring to be dicked instead of doing the dicking.
“How may I help you?” she asked Jade.
“I’m dropping my friend off, he’s booked in for a month,” he said, indicating to me.
Pointy Tits’ eyes moved to me. Her mouth dropped open, an open invitation if I ever did see one. It was nothing I hadn’t seen a million times before. I was used to chicks looking at me like they wanted to bed me. It was one of the reasons why Jade thought I could be a superstar.
I lifted my chin in a friendly hello.
She wet her lips and smiled at me, definitely a goer. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Dante Rata.”
She jerked her head back as though my name was a slap in the face. “Pardon?”
“Dante Rata,” I repeated, wondering what her problem was, because she was staring at me like I’d just done a massive dump on the floor.
She quickly looked back at her computer, her perfectly plucked brows rising. “Ah, yes, we have you booked in for a month, Mr. Rata.” She moved the mouse around, clicking this and that, her frown deepening. “You have your own room in the east wing. I’ll call a counsellor to take you there.” She picked up the phone and dialled through. “Hi, Simon, we have a new guest who needs to be shown the facilities and taken to his room.” She hung up and refocused on me, giving me a dirty look.
I sneered at her, feeling like walking the fuck right out of this place. I didn’t know her from a bar of soap, yet here she was, going from licking her lips invitingly to looking like she wanted to kick me in the gonads.
Jade frowned at the bitch, obviously sensing something was off too. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
Her eyes flicked back to him, embarrassment colouring her tanned features. “Oh, no, of course not, sir.”
“Then why were you glaring at my friend, because if this is the way you treat your clients, I—”
“Oh, no, no, sir. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just remembered something I forgot to do. It’s got nothing to do with your friend. Please accept my apologies.”
I sniffed, the woman obviously lying through her teeth. I had a Masters’ Degree in Bullshit, which meant I could sense another liar a mile off, and the way she was avoiding Jade’s gaze was a dead giveaway. That was one thing I never did. When I lied, I looked the person straight in the eye, not even batting an eyelash.
“Good,” Jade replied. “Because I expect you to treat Dante with nothing but respect and politeness. I’m paying a lot for this facility, have used it for my other clients, too.”
“Of course, sir. I really didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Fair enough, though if anything like this happens again, I will be talking to your boss, someone I know personally.”
She turned white, which wasn’t that easy to do, since she looked like she had some Indian in her.
Jade spun on his heel and pulled me into a hug. “You take care, get clean. You have a bright future, Dante. A future you deserve.”
I dropped my bag and patted his back. “Thanks, mate.”
He continued to hug me.
“You better lemme go before you get a boner.”
He let go of me quick, his cheeks reddening at my comment. “Remember. One month. No drugs. No alcohol. And no sex.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll get clean. Now leave before I decide to steal your car and drive to the first pub I see.”
He nodded and rushed for the door, glancing back at me before disappearing through it.
My phone rang.
The receptionist held out her hand. “You’ll have to give me that, Mr. Rata. All phones must be handed in,” she said, trying to sound like some stern old woman, but failing miserably, the chick even younger than my twenty-four years.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, seeing Kara’s name flash across the screen. Not wanting to talk to her, I turned it off and stepped up to the desk, handing my phone over to the receptionist.
“You just saved me from having to speak to a crazy ex,” I said, feeling like shit for ignoring Kara. I hated doing this to her, because I did love her. I just couldn’t be with her anymore. And she needed to accept it instead of constantly trying to bully me back into being with her. My psychiatrist had finally convinced me that what I had with Kara was an abusive relationship. I’d tried to deny it for a long time, but had come to the conclusion that my dad was right. I was too soft when it came to women. I let them push me around, until I snapped and left them. It had been like that with Beth too. She had manipulated me, constantly lying so I wouldn’t leave, while Kara had yelled and hollered, getting violent if I didn’t stay with her jealous arse. Oh, she didn’t hit me. She just had a bad habit of shoving me, and not gentle shoves either, ones that could knock a grown
man off their feet. One time she’d shoved me so hard I’d fallen, hitting my head on Jade’s staircase. I’d been knocked unconscious, which had gotten her arrested. And I couldn’t put up with it anymore. Couldn’t keep letting women push me into what they wanted, both literally and metaphorically, because it was never what I wanted.
Or needed.
The receptionist smiled at me, though it looked forced, a big fat please don’t get me fired playing across her lips. “I’m sorry I had to take your phone. All outside calls are banned, unless it’s an emergency.”
“For Kara, everything’s an emergency.”
“So, you’ve just broken up with her?”
“Why the fuck do you wanna know? Do ya wanna fuck or sumpthin’?”
She turned pale again. “Oh, no, no, sir. I apologise if I offended you.”
“Looks like I offended you. What’s your problem? As soon as you heard my name, you turned into the Wicked Witch of the West, and don’t gimme that bull you gave my mate. I can sniff out a lie faster than a chick juicing for my dick.”
She let out a sigh. “You’re just as she said you would be.”
“Who?”
“A friend of mine knows you.”
I frowned. “What friend?”
“Someone you used to date in high school.”
“Nah, you’re mixing me up with my bro. He’s the one who dated chicks back then. Me, I just fucked them.”
“No, you definitely dated my friend. She mentioned you by name.”
“You better not be talkin’ ’bout Phelia Lamar, cos I never dated that bitch, she wuz delusional.”
Still was.
A sneer pulled at my lips. I almost wished that Jasper had killed that bitch like his uncle had wanted him to. Phelia’s obsession with me had now transferred to Jasper, the flake apparently in love with him. It had started when he’d let her walk away unscathed, forcing his uncle to back off, saying that killing her wouldn’t bring back his father. But the bitch couldn’t just be grateful he’d spared her life. She had to get all dewy-eyed over him, romanticising him like he was some sort of white knight. Jesus, she made me sick. She’d had no interest in him when he’d been fat and panting for her, but now he was built, with women drooling all over him, she wanted him. And she wouldn’t take no for an answer, which was making it damn hard for Jasper, considering he was locked up in the same prison she worked at, the bitch using her authority to get at him. He was this close to putting a hit out on her. Though, he wouldn’t need to pay a cent for it, because one word to his uncle and she would be worm food, Killer’s third personality scary as shit.
The receptionist’s eyes flicked to her right, a curse escaping her lips.
I turned to look at what had captured her attention. She quickly rushed around the desk, towards a chick with hair the colour of candyfloss. The pink-haired chick had her head down, staring at a folder in her hands as she headed my way. The receptionist, who I was starting to think had been dropped on the head as a baby, grabbed Candyfloss and spun her around, trying to get her to go back the way she’d come. I watched, wondering whether Jade had signed me up to a looney bin instead of a rehab.
“Georgie,” Candyfloss said, pulling free from her. “What has gotten into you?”
“I called Simon, not you.”
“Simon’s busy, so he sent me to show the new client around.” She turned to me, jerking at the sight, giving me an even more shocked reaction than the receptionist had. Her eyes were almost popping out of her head, while her mouth was hitting the floor.
I raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why everyone in this place had an issue with me. Though I didn’t have one with her, because she was fine as fuck, from the top of her dyed-pink hair, right down to her sandaled feet. She also had striking grey eyes, which for some reason made me think of the moon. I didn’t know why. I also didn’t know why she seemed familiar, because there was no way I would forget someone as hot as her, my cock agreeing. I adjusted it unashamedly, giving her an inviting smile.
She continued to gape at me.
“You better close your mouth, gorgeous, cos my cock’s already getting ideas,” I said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say, but not giving two fucks.
Her panicked eyes darted to the receptionist. Something passed between them, whatever it was to do with me, which I didn’t have a clue why. Had I fucked her while drunk? Because when I drank, I could forget my own father. Still, I didn’t like being left out of the loop, their weird behaviour starting to annoy me.
“Has Jade signed me up to a nut farm instead of a rehab?” I asked. “Cos you two are acting loco.”
The receptionist turned to me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rata, but there’s been a mix up.” She placed a hand on her colleague’s back, giving her a not so gentle push towards the desk. “CC, take over the reception, while I show Mr. Rata the complex.”
CC looked like she was about to say yes, but instead shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” the receptionist asked, looking at her with concern.
“For fuck’s sake, I don’t bite,” I spat, now really annoyed. It was hard enough being here without these two making it harder.
“Please forgive our behaviour, Dante... I mean, sir.” CC headed for me. “I don’t know whether Georgie has formerly welcomed you, so I would like to do so.” She stopped in front of me and extended a hand, which was shaking noticeably. “We’ll do our upmost to make you feel at home for the term of your stay here.”
I exhaled and shook her hand, swamping her small one with my big fucker. “Yeah, ta, CC,” I said, appreciating that at least she was trying, though I still wanted to know why the chicks were acting loco around me.
She quickly let go, her face turning pinker than her hair. “Only Georgie calls me CC.”
My eyes dropped to her name tag, CLARA printed across it. I looked back up at her gorgeous face. “Well, Clara, I’m glad you treat your clients better than your receptionist does.”
She threw the receptionist an accusing stare. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” the chick replied, looking guilty as sin.
Clara looked back at me. “I apologise for whatever Georgie did, it won’t happen again. Please allow me to give you a tour of the complex.” She indicated for me to follow her.
I picked up my bag.
She indicated to the receptionist. “You can leave your bag with Georgie, she’ll take it to your room.”
I dumped the bag and followed her out of the reception area. Avoiding eye contact, she started giving me a guided tour. There was a noticeable wobble in her voice, the woman obviously nervous. I let it slide and took in what she was saying, along with my surrounds. The place was quite big, with loads of rooms, a few halls, one of them for grub, and even a gym, which perked me up quite a bit, working-out my thing. There was also a fenced pool out back, though Clara said it was off-limits, which meant I was definitely going to take a dip in it.
She veered back inside, waving and smiling at the other residents every so often. She seemed quite popular, everyone appearing to like her. She passed another one of her sycophants, the guy giving her a high-pitched, “Hi, Clara!”
She replied back with, “Hi, Jimmy.”
He glanced at me, giggled, then ran off like some little kid, even though he had to be at least thirty. Yup, Jade had definitely sent me to a nut farm.
Not missing a beat, Clara continued talking about this room and that room, what we were and weren’t allowed to use and do. She was much more professional than the receptionist, just was an uptight little thing. With the way she was walking, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d jammed a stick up her perky little arse, because she was rigid as fuck. I smirked, wondering whether she had a butt plug up there instead, because the rigid ones were often the kinkiest.
We walked past a fan, the breeze blowing up her pale lilac dress, giving me a flash of purple knickers. She stopped talking and quickly pushed it down, her face turning
the colour of her hair. I grinned at her, lighting an even brighter fire behind her cheeks. She cleared her throat and continued walking, stopping in front of a room at the end of the hall. She went to say something, but I cut her off.
“What’s your last name?” I asked, again thinking she looked familiar, especially her eyes.
She fidgeted with the folder. “That’s personal information I can’t give. We’re all on a first name only basis at the clinic.”
I winked at her. “Yeah, we’re defo gonna be on a first name basis, love.”
Her eyes widened. “If you’re referring to sex, that’s not happening, Dante, I mean, sir.”
“I thought we were on a first name basis,” I said, unable to hold back a smirk.
She lifted her chin. “I don’t appreciate the way you’re looking at me.”
My smirk grew, the rigid chick fun to rile. “How am I lookin’ at you?”
“I... um, like you want to have sex with me. But that’s not going to happen. I’m here to help you—”
“No one can help me.”
She frowned. “We’ll see about that. Anyway, this is your room.” She indicated to it, my tour obviously done and dusted.
I walked past her, heading into my pad for the next month. All it had was a couple of cabinets, a desk and a bed, cold, clinical, reminding me of a hospital. I grimaced, having been in the hospital enough to last a lifetime.
I glanced at my bag by one of the cabinets, the receptionist obviously having put it there. I wondered whether she’d searched through it, because I wouldn’t put it past the crazy chick.
“All the information you need is on the desk,” Clara said. “Dinner is at six, don’t be late.”
I turned to her, surprised she hadn’t left yet, especially since she was so skittish around me. She was standing in the doorway, clutching onto her folder and staring at me. Her eyes looked more silver than grey under the light, again making me think of the moon.
Her honey-blonde hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, framing her perfect face, while her silver-grey eyes were reflecting her blue summer-dress, like the moon reflecting the ocean.
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Page 28