Stryker's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 1)

by Meg Ripley

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  At first, Alex refused to meet without Ron present. So I told him--through Jules--that either we had the meeting with just the band, or I sent my notice to the label that I was quitting. Since we’d managed to negotiate ownership of all our masters, they couldn’t put the album out without me.

  So, Alex set a meeting for the weekend, and I went with it just because I didn’t know if I’d be able to see his cocky-ass face without punching it. Better to let it wait, I’d decided. The rest of the guys in the band went to the studio separately in between, re-recording old parts and tweaking a few things so that at least we wouldn’t all be out of the studio, letting things hang, pissing off the label.

  In the meantime, I was more or less by myself for the few days before the meeting, and all I had to amuse myself was thinking about what Jules said, drinking, smoking a little pot, and watching TV. I binge-watched House, M.D. almost all the way through in two days, trying not to think about what a fucking shit show everything had become. My phone rang every couple of hours--one of the guys in the band, or Ron, or in a few cases, Allie, calling me. I didn’t answer it most of the time, even if it was Nick or Dan. I just didn’t feel like it.

  I had fallen asleep on my couch--in the middle of a three-episode run of House--when I heard a knock at my door; it jolted me right out of a dream about what my life would have been like if I’d somehow become a doctor instead of a drummer, following House, working under him. The knock at my door shattered the dream, and I almost tumbled onto the floor of my living room in surprise.

  Another knock brought me to my feet, and in spite of how self-pitying I felt, I couldn’t help but be a little curious. Who the hell is knocking on my door? It was mid-afternoon; it wasn’t likely to be anyone from the band, my mom would have called ahead, and my friends outside the band didn’t even know I’d be home. I padded towards the door, and whoever was on the other side of it knocked again. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I was starting to feel irritated at whoever-it-was.

  I didn’t even bother to look through the peephole; I just unlocked and opened the door. Of all of the people I thought it could be, every possibility that had flashed through my head while I walked to answer the door, I wasn’t expecting Allie. My first instinct was the close the door immediately--slam it in her face. I started to, and she put her hand on the door frame.

  “Look, Mark,” she said, meeting my gaze in spite of me, “I just want you to give me--like--five minutes. If you want me to leave after that, then I will.”

  “If I want you to leave right now, you will,” I said, scowling at her. She sighed.

  “Please just give me a chance to explain what happened, okay?” Allie looked at me, and I could see that she’d been crying. Well she fucking should be crying, I thought, remembering what I’d seen. “Mark, just give me five minutes. Please.” I took a deep breath. Technically I didn’t have to listen to a goddamn thing she had to say; technically I could close the door on her hand--but that would take away whatever moral high ground I had in a way that beating the fuck out of Alex wouldn’t.

  “Five minutes,” I said. I tapped at my pockets and found my lighter and cigarettes--miraculously not crushed--and opened the door wide enough for me to step through it. “And you’re not coming in.”

  “That’s fair,” Allie said quietly. She followed me out of my door and down the outdoor hallway towards a little bench at the end of the row. I sat down next to the “smoker’s outpost” and took my cigs and lighter out of my pocket.

  “You have until I’m done with this,” I told her, bringing a cigarette up to my mouth and lighting it.

  “I didn’t kiss him,” Allie said. “He kissed me.”

  “So far not really changing my opinion all that much,” I told her, exhaling the first drag of smoke from my lungs.

  “Alex saw me outside, and started talking to me,” Allie told me. “He said that he knew that I was just using you, that all I wanted was to become some famous musician photographer like Autumn de Wilde or someone like that.”

  “You’ve got about another three minutes to explain to me how that ended up with the two of you kissing,” I said.

  “He got pissed when I kept saying that I really just liked you--that it was complete chance that I saw you at the festival, and that if he had a problem with me taking pictures of you guys, I’d let him delete all of the photos right then and there,” Allie said.

  “Two minutes,” I told her. I flicked ash off the end of my cig.

  “He said that he was going to prove that I was up to no good and grabbed me and kissed me,” Allie said, and there were tears in her eyes. “I was so shocked that I didn’t even know what to do right away. And then you came out right when I started to get my wits about me to push him away.” Allie kept her gaze locked onto my face and I could feel something in me starting to ache; I actually felt guilty. “But I guess at least Alex gets what he wants: even if you do forgive me, I never want to be in the same room as him ever again.”

  “I shouldn’t have pushed it,” I said after a few moments. I stubbed out my cigarette and stuffed it into the little hole at the top of the outpost. “I should have known that Alex would pull something.” I made a face. “I thought it would be a fight, or something like that.”

  “You believe me?” Allie’s expression brightened, and for a moment a dark, gloomy little voice in my head suggested that it was because she was trying to put something over on me. But I’d spent a couple of days thinking about what Jules had said, about everything that had gone on between Allie and me before the incident, about everything I knew about Alex.

  “I’m saying I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt,” I said, taking a quick breath. “I’ve been kind of stewing on this for a couple of days anyway.” I smiled at her weakly.

  “I just…” Allie sighed, shaking her head. “I felt terrible about it, and I knew that you wouldn’t answer the phone, and that I probably shouldn’t even try talking to you in person but I had to do something.” She looked at me for a long moment. “Is it crazy for me to say I think I’m actually…” she pressed her lips together, “actually in love with you?”

  “Well, we did see each other for about a month before this happened,” I said, but my heart was beating faster in my chest at the words.

  “I don’t expect you to say it back,” Allie said quickly. “Just...I wanted you to know.” She stepped closer to me, and I didn’t try and wave her away; Allie leaned in and kissed my forehead, and then--after a quick pause, a hesitation--she kissed me on the lips.

  Almost on instinct, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her body close. She felt so good, pressed against me, better than I even remembered--and I’d spent days remembering. I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue against her lips until she opened her mouth. A little flare of jealousy lit up in me again, but there was nothing at all about Alex in the taste of her lips. I broke away from the kiss after a few minutes and met Allie’s gaze.

  “I need some time,” I told her. “Let me get your stuff out of my car. But this…” I smiled, just a little. “I think we can be okay.” I reached out and offered Allie my hand; she took it, and once again it just felt so fucking good. “I am going to beat the shit out of Alex.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Even with a couple of days to cool down, the minute I saw Alex’s smug, asshole face as he walked into Nick’s apartment where we’d all agreed to meet, I couldn’t stop myself. “You fucking asshole!” The words were out of me right as I jumped at him, fist back behind my head to slam into his face. None of the rest of the guys in the band made any move to stop me, and Alex was too shocked to block the punch or try and push me away.

  Pain shot up from my fist through my arm, tingling at my elbow and crackling at my shoulder as Alex and I tumbled to the floor together. I tried to ignore it, pulling back enough to punch at him again, and that was the moment when everything erupted. Nick and Jules jumped in, pulling us apart, and Dan was
saying something I didn’t even hear; all I knew was that Alex had not only tried to get me to break up with a woman I actually really cared about--but that he’d basically violated her to do it. Even if it had only been a fucking kiss, the fact that he’d done it that way--that he’d forced himself on her to be so fucking petty--made my blood feel like it was boiling in my veins.

  Someone shoved me into a chair and I could feel the pain throbbing in my hand from punching Alex. “Good job,” I heard Nick saying, his voice shaking with laughter. “Think you broke his nose.”

  “Wanted to break his whole fucking face,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, we don’t want you going to jail for battery,” Nick said. “How’s the hand?”

  “It hurts like a bitch,” I replied.

  “Dan, grab some ice for Mark’s hand and Alex’s face,” Nick called out.

  Almost in spite of me, I started to calm down. Nick was hovering over me to keep me from launching myself out of the chair at Alex again, and I assumed Jules was taking care of Alex. Dan brought the ice, and a couple of beers for good measure, and for a few minutes, it was noisy but nothing was really happening. The ice on my hand helped the rage I could feel simmering under my skin, but not enough to make it go away completely.

  “We now call this meeting of Molly Riot band members to order,” Jules said dryly from across the room. Everyone sort of settled into their seats, and I looked across the living room to see that Alex had a dish towel full of ice pressed to his face.

  “First order of business,” Nick said, “is whether we still have a band.”

  “We’re short two tracks for the album,” Dan pointed out. “We need maybe one more week of recording and we can turn things over to Jack and be done with it.”

  “But it won’t matter if we can’t even have Alex and Mark in the same room without things getting physical,” Jules countered.

  “We sure as hell wouldn’t be able to promote or tour the album like that,” Nick added.

  “Anyone want to comment on the fact that that fucker just nearly broke my nose?”

  “You earned it,” Jules told Alex. “You’re fucking lucky that we didn’t all jump you.”

  “What the fuck were you even thinking?” It felt good to hear Jules and Dan sticking up for me. “Like if you were right about Allie and believed it for real, you’d have just let her show her true colors.”

  “It’s not important what Alex was thinking,” Nick said. “What’s important is whether we can function as a band, and what that’s going to look like if we do.”

  “How the hell are we supposed to move forward from this?” Jules looked at me. “That asshole kissed my girlfriend without her consent to try and make me break up with her.”

  “Let’s take a minute to think about this,” Jules said. “I mean, I’m not even saying that I want the band to keep going under all circumstances, but I think we have a good fucking album. I think we can move forward from this as long as people have--like--good intentions and shit.”

  “What would that look like, though?” Dan sipped his beer. “I mean, we’ve had fights and shit before--but this kind of bullshit is pretty bleak.”

  “We can do reparations,” Nick suggested. “Make Alex give up part of his share of the album sales.”

  “What the fuck! How is that fair?” I saw Jules shove Alex back down into the chair.

  “Would you accept that, if it was an option?” Dan looked at me.

  “He’d have to apologize to Allie, too,” I said, flexing my numbed fingers. A little residual pain crackled along my knuckles. “And he’d have to fucking promise that he wouldn’t so much as touch her again--that he wouldn’t even be in a room alone with her.”

  “That’s fair,” Jules said, nodding.

  “What the fuck?” Alex tried to get up again, and Jules pushed him back down.

  “You brought this on yourself, asshole,” Nick told Alex. “Unless you want to publicly be the one to break up the band and get no shares of the finished album because we won’t use any of your parts on it, or your songs?”

  “I didn’t even do anything that fucking bad,” Alex protested. I rolled my eyes.

  “You think Mary agrees with you? We can get her in here,” Dan suggested. “From what I hear she’s not a big fan of what you did either.”

  “How many days has it been since you got laid last?” I resisted the urge to snicker at Jules’ question.

  “It was a kiss, it’s not like I molested her,” Alex said. “And anyway, if their relationship was so flimsy, then that would fucking end it…”

  “Your goal was to end it, so don’t pull that shit on us,” Nick said. “And you call Mary right fucking now and ask her how she would feel if one of us grabbed her and kissed her against her will.” Alex started to protest but he obviously realized he had nothing to say in his own defense.

  “So, an apology from Alex to Allie, and Alex gives up part of his share of the next album’s sales to Mark,” Dan said. He shook his head. “I can’t fully believe that we’ve reached a point in this band where these kinds of things happen.”

  “We’re a corporate band now,” Jules said, wryly. He looked at each of us. “I think we need to talk about that.”

  “I agree,” Nick said. “We’ve let the machine do too much for us.”

  “This whole album has been about that,” I pointed out. “Like the whole deal--how much money we got for it for working with Fran’s band, how long we were taking, all of it. Is this the band we want to be?” It was almost a relief to get off the topic of what had pissed me off so much, what had so nearly destroyed us as a group.

  “Yeah,” Dan agreed. The chatter went on for a while, and I listened more than I talked; basically, we’d all felt--in one way or another, at one point or another, without saying anything to each other about it--that we’d lost control of what Molly Riot actually was. Of who we were as a band.

  “I guess what we do is tell Ron that we want to manage more of our own shit,” Jules suggested.

  “All of us,” Nick interjected. “Not just Alex.” He scowled at our lead singer.

  “I get it, I get it,” Alex said. The blood had stopped flowing from his nose; when he took the ice away I thought it probably wasn’t broken, but he wasn’t going to have a pleasant time for about a week or so. “I’m fucking scum.”

  “Yeah, you kind of are,” Dan said. “And if you want the band to keep existing, you’d better be fucking prepared to deal with it.”

  “I’m tired of talking,” Jules said, slumping a bit in his chair. “Let’s order some food and smoke out and just chill for a while.” It didn’t feel quite like things were resolved--even an apology to Allie and me getting part of Alex’s share of the next album’s sales didn’t seem exactly to make things even--but for the time being, at least the band wasn’t breaking up. At least we’d figured out what the problem under all the problems was. We could at least get the album done; after that, who knew?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It was our first date since “the incident” as Allie called it; the band and I had managed to get through the end of recording the album, and I’d basically just made sure that I was never alone with Alex, that I spent my free time outside of actively recording with one of the other guys. I’d kept in touch with Allie over the course of the week, but I hadn’t been ready to see her again until everything about the album was done and over.

  “It feels weirdly like a first date, doesn’t it?” Allie glanced around Houston’s, for a second looking as nervous as she sounded. It was as upscale as any place we’d gone to together outside of Miami, and I’d chosen it for that reason: I wanted it to be special, to be nice, to be romantic. I wanted things to work out between us.

  We ordered peel and eat shrimp, and I got the trout while Allie got the salmon, and by the time we were both about halfway through our cocktails, things started to ease up a bit, to feel more natural. “I can’t believe you almost broke Alex’s nose,” Allie said, shakin
g her head.

  “When I saw him it just…” I shrugged. “I thought about what he’d done and why he’d done it, and I just went off.”

  “But we’re okay, right?” Allie held my gaze. She’d done something different with her makeup--she looked amazing.

  “We’re okay,” I told her. “More than okay--as long as you’re okay.”

  “I’m just glad you believed me,” Allie said, smiling shyly. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine.

  “To be honest, Jules had already kind of primed the pump,” I said. “He’d suggested to me that you might not have been into it, that Alex might have just been pulling something to be an asshole.”

  “Then I’ll thank Jules later for believing me, too,” Allie said.

  We got into our food, and I relaxed more and more. Everything felt right, everything felt good. We talked about what we’d been up to since the incident--without dwelling on the incident itself, since we were putting that behind us. Allie had booked some new shoots--and since I’d already given her gear back to her, she was able to do a couple of them. I told her about finishing up the album. “We’re just waiting to hear back from the label at this point,” I said. “I honestly think it’s the best album we’ve ever done.”

  “Well, based on the rough mixes you let me hear, it’s pretty fucking amazing,” Allie told me.

  “Jack still has to do the full mix, but I think it’ll hit.” I smirked. “Good news for me, since I’m getting half of Alex’s shares for this album.”

  “Half?” Allie stared at me.

  “I negotiated for half so that I could give you half of that,” I told her.

  “I--what?” Allie shook her head.

  “I didn’t think the apology was enough,” I explained. “I want him to feel the fucking pinch for what he did--and what he was trying to do.”