Only for You

by Marquita Valentine

  Grimacing, I take a breath. “How in the hell would you know what either of us looked like? I was like a toddler, and he was an infant.”

  Tears dripping, Crystal lifts her head. “He was three years old, and you were eighteen months. Trust me... you looked exactly like Everett Morgan, even then.”

  Exhaling, I curse softly. “Why are you telling me this?”

  This time, Ford speaks up, “Because if she keeps lying to herself, to you… to me, to anyone, then I’ll leave her.”

  “Just like every other man she’s known.”

  Ford’s lips flatten. “I’d leave her but not you guys. Have I ever left you guys?”

  I snort. “No, you liked to keep me extra close.”

  “Don’t turn this on me, Cole. I didn’t break the law.”

  “Whatever.” I stand up. “Look, I’m glad all this is making y’all feel better, but I still feel like shit. So if you don’t mind?” I point at the door. “I have things to do.”

  “Can we come back tomorrow, after church, and go to dinner, then?” Crystal asks.

  Oh goody, she’s found religion again. But there’s a pleading look in her eyes and she hasn’t shown her tail, yet. So maybe…

  “Lunch but that’s it. And you can’t stay here.” I adjust my stance. “But Kelly stays here.”

  “Whatever you want,” Crystals says and moves past me. I notice she doesn’t try to hug me, which is a good thing. One hug from her and I would have called bullshit on the entire thing.

  A couple months of rehab for her and therapy for me can’t fix years of our screwed-up relationship. But holding onto my anger, that’s only hurting me. And there are too many things, too many people trying to hurt me as it is.

  They say their goodbyes and leave. Grabbing a beer, I head to the back porch for a smoke and pull out my phone. Rae’s image is my screensaver.

  It’s a picture I took of her right before Christmas. There’s nothing but a sheet around her and in her eyes, there is nothing but love and acceptance.

  Something I’ll never have again because of the bastard who made me give her up.

  For once in my life, I’d like to see the bad guy actually get his.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jaxon

  It’s day two of our week-long stay in North Carolina, and I’m sitting on my bus, playing Candy Crush on my iPad, while we bump along Highway 40. Or was it 95? I have no idea what our driver’s name is, mostly because we have a different one every couple of days.

  We’re hitting four cities while we’re here: Greenville, Raleigh, Wilmington, and Charlotte. I know Violet’s dying to get to Charlotte. She’s dying to be close to Cole and sing that damn song she’s been practicing when she thinks no one’s around, then he’ll hear it and magically show up out of nowhere with a spotlight on him. He’ll join her on stage and they kiss, bringing down the house.

  Yeah, I’m not completely clueless when it comes to women’s fantasies. Hell, that’s my fantasy… minus my brother, of course.

  Only the face of the singer on stage… it’s me and it’s not Violet I’m waiting for.

  Son of a bitch.

  Disgusted with my lack of loyal thoughts for Violet, I miss getting rid of two jellies before I’m out of moves, and toss the iPad on the seat beside me.

  My driver has the radio on, but its talk radio—NPR, I think. Either way, I’m not interested, no matter what the polls say about my generation. From what I can tell, both sides talk out of their asses, and both want to own you in some way.

  Rolling my eyes, I get up and head to the back, nodding at my drummer. He has his ear buds in, sticks drumming along the beat. He tips up his chin in answer.

  So much for conversation. I was hoping to learn the guy’s name before we rehearse tonight.

  I crash into my bunk and pull the privacy screen, putting my hands behind my head and closing my eyes.

  Last night hadn’t been the best, even if I had gotten laid. I wasn’t that into it and she kept intruding into the whole process. Which should be a big indicator that it sucked, because…. process, really?

  Honestly, this is all Violet’s fault. She’s the one who made Bliss forbidden fruit. She’s the one that made my dumbass libido start chanting Bliss’ name. Before now, Bliss was just another part of our crew, just another chick that I couldn’t bang because I like drama-free tours and the rules Everett had set in place.

  “Screw the fans, not the help,” my dad had drilled into my head.

  What he should have added: You can also screw the up and coming stars—they like that kind of attention. Because that’s exactly what he did, with almost every female he produced.

  Except Violet. For whatever reason, I’d mistaken his normally lecherous ways for just that, instead of fatherly concern. My skin still crawls at the thought of my dad pimping her out.

  Listen to me, shit for brains. Violet was my present to you

  “We’re stopping for grub,” the driver yells, and my eyes pop open.

  My stomach growls. Despite the snacks I wolfed down an hour ago, I’m still hungry.

  Leaving the privacy of my bunk, I join my band mates and wait for the light to turn.

  “Dude, I could eat everything in this place.”

  “That’s because you’re fucked up.”

  “Screw you.” The bassist punches the drummer in the shoulder, and the drummer hits him back. I flash a grin, not sure if I should contribute to the conversation. Yet another reason why I resent Everett.

  Just as I get to know the band, my dad decides it’s time for a new drummer or bassist. One by one, he trades out the old for the new, which leaves me out in the cold once more. The guys practice together a lot and most of the time it doesn’t include me, since I’m still singing the same songs with the same beat to the same moves.

  It’s getting old, and downright embarrassing. Should a twenty-four-year-old be singing the same songs that he sung at sixteen?

  My answer: No.

  Everett’s answer: Can’t disappoint your fans.

  The driver parks the bus in the parking lot of one of those chain restaurants that are always located right by a hotel.

  On the way out, I grab my glasses, sliding them into place, and make sure my phone is in my pocket, along with my wallet.

  I have no idea if Everett will join us and pay for this business expense, and I don’t want to be caught empty-handed or looking like an asshole.

  Supposedly, my trust fund and my earnings have been kept locked up tight in the stock exchange and banks in various forms. Supposedly, Everett was to give me full control of it all two month ago, when I turned twenty-four. But he hasn’t. And I haven’t had the time to go to a bank and check everything out.

  However, as soon as this, “Look who’s back together tour” is over, I’m taking control of everything.

  And I have the flash drive to help me.

  Bliss slides into focus, her curly brown hair bouncing in a high ponytail. She’s walking with Violet, but I barely notice my ex-girlfriend, too intent on the way Bliss’ thighs show each time the wind blows her skirt to the side.

  “Damn, I want to hit that.”

  “Get in line, bro. Those big tits are mine.”

  Seeing red, I stop suddenly and turn, facing my new band mates. “What did you say?”

  The drummer holds up his hands. “Dude, we weren’t talking about your girl.”

  “Yeah, it’s Bl—”

  “Not another word. Bliss Davenport is off-limits,” I growl.

  The bassist smiles knowingly. “We get it… you like a little strange on the side. Don’t worry, we keep it all hush-hush.”

  I shove him before I even know what I’m doing. “Seriously, bro, shut up. Don’t think about Bliss, don’t talk about Bliss… don’t jerk off to images of Bliss’ big tits when you’re all alone at night. Stay away from her. Hell, don’t even talk to her.”

  “She’s not worth the trouble you’ll get in,” I add, so that I don’t
seem all Edward Cullen possessive. I’m just Jaxon, asshole protector of innocent girls like Bliss.

  I hear a gasp, and I turn around, already knowing who’s going to be standing there. The sun shines on the lenses of her glasses. New ones with new frames. She’s looks cute as hell with them on and still has no clue that I had them made for her.

  Not that she would believe it, especially after that speech. Jaw clenching, I try to think of a way out of this. But I know I can’t so I stop thinking at all. Instead, I smirk. “Something you need?”

  Her pretty face turns red, full lips parting as if she’s about to tell me off. She should tell me off, in front of God and everybody, but she won’t. In the couple of months I’ve known her, she never has.

  “No,” she says softly, that one little word doing more damage than any cursing out would have ever wrought. She spins around, wrapping her arms around her middle, and heading in the opposite direction of everyone, especially me.

  Violet marches up to me, her lips all smashed together. “What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing. Just like you said, Vi. I’m staying the hell away.” Then I brush past her, heading into the restaurant.

  It’s the quickest and quietest meal of the tour, yet.

  *** *** ***

  Violet

  After the disastrous lunch in which no one said anything, I managed to get Bliss to ride with me, instead of the conversion van that followed us in our two buses and one tractor-trailer convoy.

  Pressing a glass of sweet tea into her hand, we sit down at the table near the kitchen area. She sets the glass down and then takes off her glasses, rubbing the indentions along her nose.

  “You have very pretty eyes,” I say, thinking that it’s always best to start out with a real compliment. “Glasses on or off, they’re very pretty. I bet you had all the guys back home chasing you.”

  “Thank you,” she says, then slips her glasses back on and takes a sip of tea. Her nails are cut short, bright pink tips with a layer of green at the bottom.

  So much for compliments breaking the ice. I mean, we have talked a few times, nothing personal or beyond asking about her day or if she needed anything. Maybe she thinks I don’t mean those things, that if she does ask, I’ll say no or laugh at her.

  It’s what Callie did before the judge sentenced her to months of community service and house arrest. I brush the thoughts of my ex-best friend aside and concentrate on the girl sitting across from me—friendless and, from what I can tell, family-less, too. She doesn’t have a cell phone and she’s never made a call to anyone at any of our stops.

  I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve had one of my bodyguards follow Bliss around for her own safety. She’s about the same age as me, but unlike me, she’s not aware of her surroundings or the crazies that follow celebrities.

  “So how’s the internship? Everything college has been preparing you for?” Everett had introduced Bliss as the girl who would be assisting the head of wardrobe for college credits. A part of me envies that opportunity, and as soon as this tour is done, I’m applying for school.

  Though I guess I’ll be living on my own, instead of with Cole, like we’d planned. Unless, by some miracle, he changes his mind.

  Bliss blinks at me, and then straightens. “Yes, thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Thank you for dressing me so stylishly.”

  Her cheeks turn red. “You’re welcome.” She takes another sip of her tea and set it down again. “Did you want to talk about what you’re wearing tomorrow night?”

  “Uh, no. I’m sure whatever you’ve picked out will be great.” I clear my throat. This is really going well. Not. In my mind, I imagine Cole laughing at me, his blue eyes all teasing. My heart pinches in response. “So… about Jackson or the artist known as Jaxon Hunter.” I give the x in his name an extra hard pronunciation. “Has he been making you uncomfortable?”

  She looks down at the table, her hands squeezing her glass tonight. “I swear I haven’t been flirting with him.”

  “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were,” I say, and her head jerks up. The new glasses Jaxon had made for her look really cute. They are a dark green instead of black and I had to tell her that it was a tour perk, instead of the truth, when I returned them to her.

  “But it would to me. I’m not here to sleep with him.” She nods once. “I’m here to earn a living.”

  Earn a living? Is that how a college student would view an internship? Sure, this one is paid and she has all her expenses taken care of, but still… “I didn’t think you were, but I wanted to check on you and make sure he hasn’t done or said anything inappropriate.”

  Gosh, I sound exactly like my mother at this moment, but I don’t care, Bliss is like a baby bird with broken wings. I should know, I was once broken, and then Cole came into my life.

  But now he’s gone. Tears prick at the back of my eyes.

  “Jaxon is always saying something inappropriate. But doing something—he saves that for groupies, not me,” Bliss says with a frown.

  I laugh at her frown instead of crying over Cole. “Do you want him to be inappropriate with you?”

  Bliss’ face goes cherry tomato red. “Sometimes.”

  My laughter fades away, and I sigh. “He’s not a nice guy right now, Bliss.” Then again, thinking of his confession not too long after our tour started, he’s not as bad as I’d thought either.

  “Nice or not, haven’t you ever met a guy that made you want things you didn’t think you could have or deserve?” she asks.

  The first time Cole and I made love comes to mind, bittersweet memories washing over me. I wish I could drown in them, make them fill up the emptiness that lives inside of me now.

  I smile sadly. “Just one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jaxon

  Tonight’s show in Raleigh went off without a hitch, partly due to Rae’s visible excitement and my ability to pretend it’s me she’s excited about.

  But it’s not me.

  It’s like the closer we get to the Charlotte show, the more amped up she gets, which might explain why she’s actually in my bus, practically dancing around the place with two of the female backup singers.

  “Damn, girl, have a seat,” I laugh when she bumps into me. I’m sitting at the booth near the kitchen, playing cards with Tripp, the drummer.

  She shakes her head. “Can’t. Another day down and another day closer.”

  Tripp puts his cards on the table, facedown. “I need to take a piss.” He leaves and Violet takes his place, peeking at his cards and flashing a grin.

  “You’re gonna lose,” she says, all sing-songy. Her eyes are bright, and for once, she’s not looking at me like I’m the devil bent on ruining anything innocent. But I know it’s because she’s buzzed from the itty-bitty glass of champagne she drank, and not from a sudden change of mind. “Like you always do.”

  Still, where there’s a smile, there’s a way in.

  “Lightweight,” I tease, hoping like hell she’ll stay in this good mood of hers.

  I glance at the female backup singers. They’re sitting on the couch, with Trip sandwiched between them. Judging by the look on his face, I’d have to dynamite his ass to make him move.

  “Can we have that talk now, Vi?”

  She shrugs. “If you want.”

  Better than her usual drop dead, so I go with it. “You remember that night in Reno, on our third tour? Or have you forgotten everything about us?”

  Her shoulders stiffen, and then she softly exhales. “I didn’t wipe the memories from my mind, Jackson. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Most of them are permanently posted on the Internet.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Hence the word “most”.”

  “Do you think we would have gone through with it, if you parents hadn’t shown up?”

  Her blue eyes fix on me, and for once, I notice that I don’t automatically think they’re pretty. They are, but—

  “Proba
bly, but in the end, it was for the best that we didn’t.”

  I frown, anger and humiliation rising, destroying my good mood. “Spending forever with me leaves that bad of a taste in your mouth?”

  “No, but the divorce would have.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “I have irrefutable proof, Jaxon.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “So you say, but you won’t tell me why she was there in the first place, nude and in your bed.”

  “Damn it, Violet… she wasn’t there for me. She was there for—” I smash my lips together and look away. She’ll never believe me, not in a million years.

  “For who?”

  I swallow and turn to face her. “For not me.”

  “It’s a nice story, Jackson, but I’m not buying it, and honestly, I don’t care anymore. I’ve moved on and you should, too.” She rises, and heads out of the bus.

  I stare after her. The ring I’d bought for her is hanging on a chain around my neck. I only wear it right before and during concerts, never afterwards, unless I know I won’t be nailing anyone. I don’t want another female touching it.

  It’s small, white gold with little diamonds all over. Simple and pretty.

  She never knew I bought the thing. At the time, we had thought to run off and marry, then not tell anyone until after the honeymoon. Then Violet’s parents had shown up unexpectedly, and we couldn’t sneak off to Vegas

  Tripp and his female entourage leave, and I grab up all the cards, shuffling them, and then returning the pile to the box.

  Drinking down the last of my beer, I happen to glance up and who’s standing by the seat Violet just occupied but Bliss, the girl I want to see the most, but shouldn’t see at all.

  “Why do you keep throwing yourself at her? It’s obvious she’s in love with Cole Morgan.”

  There’s nothing more I’d like to do right now then show Bliss that I’m a million times better than my brother is. Wait, that’s not right. I should want to show Violet I’m a million times better.