Head-Tripped: A Sexy Rock Star Romance (Ad Agency Series Book 2)

by Nicole Archer

  Since then, his life had taken a dramatic turn for the better. And yet, here he was, in front of this woman, feeling like the same troubled little boy back in Chinatown.

  Effie sat up and glanced around the boat. “Where am I?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She pulled her knees to her chest. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “What’d you take, anyway?”

  A line puckered between her brows. “Take? What do you mean? When?”

  The innocent virginal look on her face made him sick. “Before you did your little comedy routine onstage. What were you on?”

  She gripped her forehead. “I wasn’t on anything.”

  He dropped his head back. “Jesus! What a liar.”

  She stumbled out of bed, still in her white dress from the night before. “I’m not lying! I’m clean. I don’t take drugs. Please, Elias, listen to me.” She reached for him.

  He brushed her off like dead skin and waltzed out the door. “Pack up your shit. You’re going home.”

  36

  Grave

  “‘When you have to turn into a chrysalis—you will some day, you know—and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, won’t you?’

  ‘Not a bit,’ said the Caterpillar.”

  Soundtrack “Miss You,” Alabama Shakes

  Nobody ever believes a druggie. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been clean and sober, because you won’t be for long. People look at you differently when you’re a drug addict. Or rather, they don’t look at you. They avoid looking at you. You disgust them.

  That’s how her mother looked at her when she kicked her out of the house. That’s how her father looked at her when he picked her up from rehab. That’s how her ex-roommate’s parents looked at her when they kicked her out of their guesthouse. That’s how people on the street looked at her when she begged for money to buy more drugs.

  And that’s how Elias had just looked at her.

  Like she was filth.

  For a second, she’d almost believed him.

  Coke, meth, crack, uppers, those were her drugs of choice. They’d numbed her sensitivity just enough to deal with the world. But it wasn’t coke that had stolen the last twenty-four hours of her life. It was something else.

  Bits and pieces of the concert came back together, blurs of color and people, instances of dancing with the crowd, feeling so good, then so bad.

  But nothing felt as bad as having Elias look at her like a drug addict . . . when she wasn’t one.

  Callie answered her call immediately.

  She burst out crying and couldn’t stop to tell her why.

  “Dammit, what’s wrong?” Callie said.

  She blurted out half the story—the rest was still a mystery.

  “Effie.” That’s all her sister said. Her name. That’s it.

  She could almost see the pity and disgust on her sister’s face. That ‘look.’

  A torrent of tears rushed out. Nobody believed her, not even her sister. “Say something,” she cried.

  Silence bled between them then Callie blew out a long breath.

  “Stop with the disappointed little sighs!” Effie shouted.

  “What do you want me to do?” Callie snapped.

  “I don’t know. I think someone drugged me.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you drink something? Eat something?”

  “Nothing except water and candy.”

  “What kind of candy was it?”

  Red fumes billowed in the back of her brain. Gail. Gail did this to her. Gail’s shitsicles. “His manager did it.”

  “The Evil Cuntress?”

  Effie nodded into the phone. “She gave me lollipops the night of the concert.”

  “Like, pot lollipops? We found some of those in Walker’s grandmother’s house.”

  “No, they were different. Chemical tasting.”

  Her sister asked Walker a muffled question then came back on. “Hot Cock says it sounds like a Mollypop.”

  “Don’t call me that in front of your sister,” Walker said in the background.

  “I don’t think my sister gives a shit about your pet name right now.”

  Effie couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “You have any left?” Callie asked.

  She grabbed her bag and sifted through a mountain of condoms and dick soaps. Two lollipops lay at the bottom of her sack. “Yes.”

  “Can you take them to the police or something?”

  “How do I prove it?” Gail would never admit the truth. And the more shit she stirred up, the worse it would get. “Cal?” She was so dehydrated it hurt to swallow. “I haven’t told Elias the truth. About me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, he wouldn’t,” a sob fell out. “He wouldn’t love me.”

  “Oh, Effie,” her voice cracked. “Do you really believe that? It’s all or nothing, babe. Warts and all. Remember when you told me that about Hot Cock?”

  “Blue!” Walker shouted.

  “I signed a contract that said I wouldn’t drink or take drugs,” she said.

  “So what? Didn’t you also sign something about not hooking up with band members? What’s his deal, anyway? What band doesn’t do drugs?”

  “I’m not in the mood to play games right now,” Effie said. “I need advice. What do I do?”

  “I don’t know. You sure he’s the one? Maybe he’s just Mr. Sexbridge?”

  “What?”

  “You know, the bridge between screwing and love? Mr. Make-Me-Feel-Good-Right-Now.”

  “We haven’t had sex.”

  “Are you kidding me? How could you keep your hands off that man? You’ve seen him, right?”

  “We’re taking it slow.”

  Callie coughed. “Impressive. Few women have that kind of restraint. I certainly don’t.”

  “What am I going to do, Cal?”

  “Tell him about the candy. If he doesn’t believe you, then fuck him.”

  Effie picked the scar on her side. “And the other stuff?”

  “That’s up to you, but I wouldn’t wait too long.”

  The clock ticked on the bedside table and rain smacked the window. Effie sobbed in silence. “I’m scared.”

  “I’m scared for you,” Callie said. “But if it doesn’t work out, there are a million other rock stars in the sea.”

  “You sound like Skip.”

  “Ugh. You’re right. That was an asshole thing to say. Okay, Walker’s feeling me up. Update me as soon as you can. But not for an hour.”

  “Two,” Walker said.

  “Two. Be safe. Be brave. Call me if you need help. I love you.”

  Sure she does, she thought. Her sister didn’t believe her anymore than Elias did.

  Time crawled as dark clouds drizzled rain into her mind. She’d forgotten what hangovers were like—the depression, the fatigue, the humiliation.

  Laughter rang out from above.

  She tiptoed up the stairs and peeked over the railing. Annie and LeStrange were making out in the kitchen. She cleared her throat.

  Annie screeched.

  LeStrange clutched his chest. “Putain! You scare da sheet out of me.”

  She hung her head. “I’m sorry.” For everything.

  Annie squinted. “Thought you’d be gone, sneaky girl.”

  “Where’s Elias?” she said. “I need to talk to him.”

  Annie lifted her pointy chin. “He won’t talk to a druggie.”

  “I’m not a druggie!” she shouted. “Gail gave me laced lollipops.”

  “Wha!” Annie cried.

  Effie told them story. “I don’t remember what happened after that.”

  Annie played a video from the concert. Effie watched five minutes then begged her to turn it off. No wonder Elias hated her. The world probably hated her.

  Rain beat the windows and the boat rocked. She covered her mouth and tried
not to barf.

  After a long silence, Annie spoke. “Elias lost his mother to drugs.”

  She snapped back her head. “What?”

  Annie nodded. “My husband Jun found him sleeping at school. He lived there for a year after she died. When we brought him home, he didn’t talk for months.” She shook her head. “Very sad scared little boy. For Elias, love equals pain. He runs from it.”

  This was the most tragic news ever. Effie burst into tears.

  Annie’s eyes welled up. “He’s different with you. You light up his darkness.” She tipped her hands like a scale. “He is yin, and you are yang. You are good for him.”

  “No, I’m not,” she whispered.

  Annie pulled her hand away and brushed her hair off her face. “You are blind. Open your eyes. Maybe you see what I see.” She made for the stairs. “I go get my needles.”

  LeStrange’s gaze followed Annie until she disappeared below deck.

  His red brows pinched together, and he gave her a sad smile. “Ça va, chérie? You look, crevé. I make you du café and a croque-monsieur.”

  She wrung her wrists. “I’m not hungry.”

  LeStrange studied her for a moment then folded his hands across his belly. “Things like this s’enfuir.” He flapped his arms. “Sheet fly away like bird.”

  She shook her head. “The ‘sheet’ is not flying away, LeStrange.”

  “Si.” He tapped his temple. “Tu vois, I am older, donc beaucoup plus intelligent. I’m smarter.”

  “You mean wiser?”

  “Yes. Yes. Dat’s it.” He trotted over to the kitchen and pulled out a pan. “I fought the guerre in Afghanistan. When I came home, my wife live with another man, and my children hate me. I was a piece-of-sheet. Drank too much. Smoked too much. Then I got the cancer. I say to myself, of course you get the cancer, LeStrange, life is de la merde.”

  He leaned on the counter. “Then I meet ‘dis happy woman at zee hospital. I ask how she could be like that, with tubes shooting poison in her arms?”

  “She tell me, ‘Life is funny, LeStrange,’ she say. ‘Laugh!’ He lit the gas stove and slapped a skillet on top. “So I laugh more, and I beat the cancer.”

  The pan sizzled and smoked behind the counter, and the scent of fried bread floated around the boat.

  LeStrange continued. “Now, I have a job I love. I repair my relationship with my children.” He pointed down the stairs. “I meet a beautiful woman and hear a great band every night. I am a lucky man. But if you had told me ‘dat five years ago, I would have laughed in your face.”

  Effie shuffled to the kitchen and hugged him. “I wish you were my father.”

  He hugged her back with such tenderness she broke down again.

  Annie appeared with her acupuncture kit and told her to lie on the sofa. A short while later, everyone except Elias returned.

  “Where’s El?” Cato asked.

  Annie frowned and shook her head.

  He sat beside Effie on the couch. “You okay?”

  “I’m so sorry about the dildo.”

  “I’m not.” He grinned. “That thing is awesome.”

  “But now everybody knows you’re gay.

  “Griffin must be gay too, since you gave him a butt plug.”

  “I did?”

  “You said it matched his eyes.”

  She gripped her forehead. “Oh, God.”

  He placed a mammoth hand on her shin. “I don’t care if the whole world finds out I’m gay. But the record label cares and so does my family. Besides what happens in my bed is nobody’s business.”

  “Don’t you want to meet someone?”

  His broad smile slid into a frown. “I don’t really think two kids and a white picket fence are in my future. I’m on the road all the time. Hell, I’m lucky to get laid once in a black moon.”

  She took his hand. “You’ll meet someone special soon. Someone who loves you and doesn’t mind traveling.”

  “No Yoko Ono’s on tour, remember?”

  She groaned. “I don’t want to hear that name ever again.”

  His expression grew serious. “Annie said El kicked you out.”

  A sound burst out from her that sounded like an animal dying. “He told me to pack up my things.”

  He nodded. “El ever mention his real mom?”

  “No, but Annie told me a little.”

  Cato told her a little more—about the abuse, and her overdose, and a few other things, but by then his voice had morphed into thunder, and all she heard was doom and gloom.

  But a sliver of hope remained, that one day someone would love her no matter what.

  That hope, that feeling, that unconditional love—it’s inspired her to be a better person, someone who could attract that kind of love.

  And now, after celebrating two years of sobriety, she could say, without a doubt, that love was more important than drugs.

  Friendship, family, music, love, they were all within reach, as long as Elias let her back in.

  37

  Consonance

  “But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.”

  Soundtrack “Mama’s Gun,” Glass Animals

  Elias wandered around in the dark rain for hours. The crooked shops and bicycle racks and cobblestone streets sunk into his chest like a knife. He wanted to cry. He never cried. Not even when his mother died.

  Waterlogged and stiff, he returned to the houseboat hours later, praying and dreading Effie wouldn’t be there.

  But she was.

  On the couch, she lay crumpled in a frail ball next to Cato, her face swollen and red from crying.

  If only he could hold her one more time.

  He erased the warmth from his expression and replaced it with ice. “Why is she still here?”

  Effie burst into tears.

  Cato rose to his feet. “F-bomb has something to tell you.”

  He slammed the door. “I’m not interested. She made a fool out of me.”

  “She didn’t make a fool out of you,” Griffin shot back. “Len gave us a great review. Everyone loved the show.”

  “Now you’re defending her?” Elias said

  Griffin charged over to him. “Ease up and go talk to her before I plant my fist in your face.”

  He stomped down to the belly of the boat.

  Effie trailed behind him, whimpering, and sat on the floor, limp as a wilted flower.

  Back stiff and fists clenched, he stood as far away from her as he could get.

  “I didn’t take drugs,” she said. “Not intentionally. Gail laced my lollipops.”

  “She what?”

  “With MDMA. Molly. She gave me a box of them.” She shuffled over to her backpack and pulled them out. “She told me it was a peace offering after we argued about the onesie. I was so mad I ate three of them. I should have known bet—”

  “Qué carajo!” He tore off his wet jacket and flung it against the wall. “Why?”

  She pounded her fists against her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been wracking my brain. The only thing I can come up with is the song royalties.”

  He slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor. It was too much. “Did you call the police?”

  “What are they going to do? It’s not like she raped me.”

  He wrenched his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to kill her.”

  She knelt in front of him. “No, Elias. If you accuse her, she’ll demand a drug test, and I’ll fail it. Which puts me in breach of contract. And if you don’t finish the tour, she’ll sic her lawyers on you.”

  She clutched her elbows and sat back on her heels. “We have to pretend nothing happened, or we’ll both end up screwed.”

  He crushed her in a hug so hard she gasped. “I’m so sorry, amor. Please forgive me. I should have—Gail—I will end her.”

  Her body trembled in his arms.

  “Please don’t cry
.” He squeezed her harder. “I’ll fix this, I promise.”

  “She’s a crooked tree,” she said with a brittle laugh. “She belongs in Washington.”

  “Bob Ross?”

  She nodded.

  “How can you joke about this?”

  “Humor’s the only emotion I have left.”

  He rubbed his brow. “I’m such a prick.”

  “Annie told me about your mom.” She started to say something then stopped.

  He banged his head back against the wall. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?”

  “My mother doesn’t matter.”

  She lifted a scolding brow. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. Of course she matters.”

  The boat creaked and swayed, but Elias stayed silent.

  “Well, someday, I hope you share your story with me. And someday, maybe I’ll tell you mine. But right now, I need to know, do I have to hop the next flight to New York?”

  He jerked up. “No! You’re not leaving.”

  She slumped over and heaved out a weighted breath.

  He tipped up her chin and fell into her sad blue eyes. “Do you forgive me, mi vida?”

  She pressed her soft lips against his and brought him back to life.

  “Don’t go,” he murmured. “Don’t ever go.”

  “I won’t,” she said. “Besides, we’re not done with our bucket list.”

  38

  De Capo

  “‘Yes, but then I HAD done the things I was punished for,’ said Alice: ‘that makes all the difference.’

  ‘But if you HADN’T done them,’ the Queen said, ‘that would have been better still; better, and better, and better!’ Her voice went higher with each ‘better,’ till it got quite to a squeak at last.”

  Soundtrack “Insensatez,” Antonio Carlos Jobim

  To make their concert in Madrid on time, they had to drive for twenty-four hours straight. A whole day of eight people jammed together in a small space.

  No one seemed particularly bothered by this. Annie played mahjong. Cato slept most of the time. El read books and listened to music. Hal sketched. Missy knitted. Griffin killed people in his video game. Everyone found refuge in their hobbies, content with their solitude.