Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3)

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Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) Page 14

by Michelle A. Valentine


  Jimmy’s wearing the biggest shit-eatin’ grin on his face as he turns around to face me. “Fucking told you!” He quickly turns back around and addresses the crowd. “We’re going to take a quick break. Don’t forget to tip your bartenders!”

  We all hop down from the stage, practically floating on cloud nine because we stepped outside our comfort zone and it appears to be a huge fucking success.

  “That was unbelievable! Did you hear how much they loved that song!” David, our bassist, crows while his dark hair flops in his face. “I think we need to come up with more originals!”

  “Agreed,” Jimmy says. “It feels pretty damn good that they seemed to like that so much.”

  “I’m going to get a round of drinks to celebrate.” I smile and slap Jimmy on the back and head toward the bar.

  The place is crawling with people. I snake my way through the bodies and finally push myself up to the bar. After waiting a couple minutes, a beautiful blonde wearing a tight, low-cut black dress turns around on her barstool and notices me standing behind her. She doesn’t try and pretend that she’s not staring at me as I wait on the bartender to get to me.

  The blonde licks her lips and then traces her exposed cleavage with her index finger. “Hi. You looked great up there.”

  I nod and try not to seem rude. “Thanks.”

  She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “You sounded pretty good too.”

  I give her a tight-lipped smiled and thank her one more time. This doesn’t seem to appease her. I suspect her invitations to flirt don’t often get rejected, because blowing her off only seems to make her even more determined.

  She leans into me and places her hand on my forearm. “Is your girlfriend here?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  I don’t even bother telling her that I don’t actually have a girlfriend, because it doesn’t really matter because I’m not the slightest bit interested in pursuing anything with her. I don’t do random sex.

  “I don’t usually do this,” she says and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Here we go. “I find you extremely attractive. Do you want to come back to my place for a nightcap and perhaps a little dessert after the show?”

  I highly doubt that she doesn’t usually do this. She just straight-up asked me to fuck her far too easily for this to be one of the few times in her life that she’s asked a man to have a one- night stand with her.

  I sigh and as bad as I want to blow her off, I know it won’t be good for the band if it ever got out that I was rude to someone at a show. Instead, I decide to redirect her to a place where her offer might be gladly accepted.

  “Sounds fun, but I can’t do it.” I turn and point over toward Jimmy. “See the guy with dark hair over there?” She nods. “That’s Jimmy. He’s the front man of our band and I’m sure he’d love to continue to party after the show with you.”

  Her eyes move from me to Jimmy and then back to me. Her eyes trail over my forearms, pausing to study the ink on my arms before her eyes flick back up to meet mine. “Too bad. You bad-boy types are usually a damn good lay.”

  She doesn’t give me time to say anything else before she pushes up from her stool and sashays toward Jimmy. Just as I thought, Jimmy’s face instantly lights up when the blonde approaches. I knew that she would be right down his alley.

  “That was decent of you.” I turn back around and notice an older redheaded woman standing on the other side of me. Her bright red hair matches the red top she’s got on, and she most definitely stands out here among the crowd of twentysomethings that pack the bar. “I take it that you’re a team player?”

  “Always am.” I scratch the back of my neck and hope that this lady isn’t about to hit on me too.

  “That’s good to know,” she says and then hands me a card. “I’m Jane Ann Rogers, a talent recruiter for Mopar Records. I’m working on putting a band together and I’m looking for a drummer with a decent voice to sing backup. If you’re interested, give me a call and we’ll talk more about it. I think you’d be a great fit to go along with the other two guys I’ve recruited.”

  I stare down at the card I’m pinching between my fingers and it appears to be very official. This might just be the big break we’ve been waiting on. I can’t wait until I can tell the guys.

  “Thank you, Ms. Rogers. I’ll speak with the guys and let you know.”

  She shakes her head. “No. This offer doesn’t extend to them. Only you. If you’re interested.”

  I lick my lips and glance back toward the band. This feels wrong, but how many times in my life am I going to get an opportunity like this thrown into my lap? If things work out and I play along with whatever this project is, maybe down the line I can bring Jimmy and David into the business with me. I know they would jump all over this offer if they were me.

  If I don’t take this talent scout up on this offer, sacrificing Avery will be for nothing. I’m not sure what my dream really is anymore, but I know that I’m committed to this musical path because I’ve destroyed any hope of ever winning Avery back. I have nothing else going in my life, so this woman’s offer sounds pretty damn good.

  “I’m interested. Thank you.”

  Her face lights up. “You made the right choice. Hope you’re ready. Your life is about to change.”

  A wicked smile stretches across Jane Ann’s face, and it makes me wonder if I’ve just made a deal with the devil.

  THREE YEARS LATER . . .

  AVERY

  I wipe down the bar one more time and sigh. It’s been a long night and the crowd doesn’t seem to want to go home. I glance over at Blake, who has busied himself talking to a group of women who have been sitting at the bar all night. I’ve grown quite fond of Blake over the last few years, and he’s become one hell of a good bouncer for the bar Granny helped me open when I decided that I wanted to stick around Wellston and look after her. She helped me realize that I can be a successful business owner, even though I’m young. I found it only fitting to pay homage to Granny with the name of my bar: Granny’s Poison Apple.

  Thanks to the life insurance money Dad left me, I was able to buy a small building in town and renovate it. From the old brick façade outside, it doesn’t look like much, but it’s one hundred percent mine. It’s been a steady stream of income for me over the last couple of years, and I’m thankful for that.

  It’s been a challenge to be successful in this small town, but I think my hard work has really begun to pay off because it’s now the place where everyone in town comes when they feel like having a drink. Blake really helped me out in the beginning by bringing his weekend parties to the bar instead of just keeping everyone at his place. He helped to validate the bar as the best night spot around, so it was only fitting that I give him a job.

  I glance up at the clock on the wall and notice in fifteen minutes it’ll be two in the morning. “Hey, Blake, could you let everyone know it’s last call?”

  He nods and smiles at me. “Sure thing, boss lady.”

  He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Last call!”

  A big guy, whose thick salt-and-pepper beard complements the black leather vest he’s wearing, yells back, “It’s last call when we fucking say!”

  My eyes snap over to the group of guys sitting at the corner table. It’s a well-known fact that they are part of a local motorcycle club that has a reputation for doing things on the shady side of the law. They’re not regulars, but I have seen them in here from time to time.

  Blake’s stance stiffens and he rolls his shoulders back. My gut twists and I’ve come to know that Blake doesn’t back down from threats, which is why he’s such a phenomenal bouncer, but I can’t allow Blake to get tangled up with these guys. “Blake,” I call his name over the music that’s playing on the jukebox and he turns in my direction. “Let it go. Come help me clean these last few glasses so we can get out of here as soon as they’re done with their drinks.”

  Blake takes a step in my direction and then f
reezes when the man in the corner yells again. “Go do as you’re told, boy!”

  I gasp, knowing that since this threat is personal, there’s no way of calming Blake down now.

  When he turns, all I can do is yell his name from behind the bar in hopes it will be enough to deter him from confronting the men. “Blake!”

  It’s no use—he’s across the room and standing in front of the table full of guys before I even have a chance to come from behind the bar.

  Blake leans down and balances his weight on his fists so he can stare the big man right in the face. “Finish your drinks and get the hell out of here.”

  The even tone of his voice presents a calm front, but I can tell by the way his muscles tense beneath his T-shirt that he’s seconds away from losing his cool with these guys. The fact that Blake’s outnumbered three to one doesn’t seem to faze him either, but it scares the shit out of me. I just wish there was someone to back him up.

  The man narrows his eyes. “You better watch how you talk to me, boy. I’m not a man you want to make upset.”

  Blake straightens his stance and meets the stare of the menacing man on the other side of the table. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, but it’s time for you to go.”

  The biker stands up slowly and the other two men flank his side. “Who’s going to make us? You?”

  The three men chuckle like a funny joke has just been told.

  “That’s right.” Blake balls his fists up at his side. “Don’t make me throw your ass out of here.”

  The man throws back the last of his drink and then sets the beer bottle back on the table in front of him. For a second it looks like the men are about to leave without making a fuss, but out of nowhere the leader of the group sucker punches Blake from across the small table.

  Blake staggers back, shakes his head, and then dives over the table, taking himself and the man to the floor. The sound of glass shattering and the commotion of the table and chairs falling to the floor turns every head in the place. The other patrons quickly flee from the bar, leaving me alone with the fighting men.

  The other two men reach down and drag Blake off of their companion. Blake struggles in their hold as the other man pushes himself to his feet. Panic floods through me. I can’t just sit by and watch these goons hurt my friend.

  I jump on the back of one of the guys and wrap my hands around his neck, yanking back as hard as I can to get him off Blake.

  The man grabs a handful of my hair and slings me off his back. “You little bitch!”

  He leers at me and out of the corner of my eye, I see the other two men taking turns punching Blake. My heart races as I slide back on the floor to get away from the guy. He narrows his eyes and just as he begins to reach down for me, someone rushes his side and tackles him to the ground.

  It takes my eyes a moment to focus on who just saved me, but the moment they land on a familiar face, I gasp.

  It’s like seeing a ghost.

  Tyler holds the man down and punches him in the face, knocking the man unconscious. Once the guy is down for the count, Tyler turns his attention to the two men beating on Blake. Tyler grabs a handful of one of the guys’ shirts and lands a hard right square to the nose. This frees Blake up to fight the other man, and now that it’s an even two-on-two match, the bikers no longer have the upper hand.

  Tyler and Blake work in unison, and once they have control of the situation, they drag each of the bikers toward the door and throw them out one by one before locking the front door of the bar.

  I take a moment to check Blake’s face. Blood drips from his nose and there’s a pretty decent-size gash over his right eye. “Are you all right?”

  His tongue darts out and he licks the corner of his busted lip. “Yeah. I’m good.” He turns his attention to Tyler, who stands there watching us curiously. “Damn, man. You’ve got some kick-ass timing. Thanks for jumping in there and saving my ass.”

  Tyler grins and holds his hand out to Blake and they join hands and do that weird guy handshake-hug thing. “Anytime. When I first walked in, I wasn’t sure what in the hell was going on, but when I saw Avery jump on the one guy’s back, I knew shit was out of control. I figured you guys wouldn’t be opposed to me jumping in and knocking some heads around to help out.”

  Hearing Tyler say my name brings back a flood of old memories. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him in person.

  Tyler’s gaze shifts in my direction and my breath catches as I try to think of something to say to him.

  The reunion is cut short, because minutes after the bar is empty, red-and-blue lights shine through the window. I open the door and the cops quickly jump out of their cars, running toward the men who are stumbling around in the parking lot.

  “Freeze. Get down on the ground,” one of the officers shouts at the bikers.

  Tyler and Blake flank my sides as two of the officers work on detaining the men we just kicked out while another man in uniform approaches us. He’s a short man, with a stocky build, whose dirty-blond hair pokes out beneath his hat. I’ve met him a few other times when I had to call the police to break up a couple fights in the bar.

  “Avery,” the cop greets me.

  “Good evening, Officer Ryder.”

  I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not that we know each other’s names since he needs to come to my place of business so often.

  “We had a report that there was an altercation here. Can you tell me what happened, Avery?” He clicks his pen and is ready to write down my side of the story.

  I clear my throat and begin explaining how we were trying to close up and Blake announced last call, and how those particular men refused to leave, and then engaged in an altercation with my bouncer.

  He nods and makes some notes on a pad of paper he has in his hands and then turns his attention to Blake. “Would you like to press charges?”

  Blake folds his arms across his broad chest and shakes his head. “No.”

  I’m surprised by his answer because if I were Blake I would want those assholes prosecuted to the full extent of the law, but Blake being Blake, I suppose he sees pressing charges as a weakness.

  The cop sighs. “All right then. If you’re not pressing charges, then we’ll have to let them go.”

  “Understood,” Blake says. “There’s nothing about those assholes that I can’t handle should they decide to come back and try that shit again.”

  “Have it your way.” Officer Ryder turns to me. “I’m going to release the suspects. If they come back, you call us, Avery. We don’t want things getting out of control again.”

  “I will,” I reply and he smiles.

  Officer Ryder returns to the other cops, who are detaining the bikers. I can tell by the way he keeps nodding toward us that he’s explaining to the bikers that no charges are going to be filed. Soon the men hop on their bikes, fire them up, and then pull out of the parking lot.

  As soon as the parking lot is clear, the cops get into their cars and drive away too.

  I turn to Blake and inspect his face a little more closely. Everything appears to be angry and swollen, the busted lip and the cut over his eye being the worst of the damage. “Let’s get inside and get some ice on that.”

  Blake doesn’t argue with me. Instead he turns to head inside and holds the door open, waiting on Tyler and me to follow.

  I glance up at Tyler and I find myself utterly confused. On one hand I’m excited to see him and on the other I still harbor a lot of resentment for the man. It’s been three years since I was last with him—three years since Dad died and everything in my life changed. I know we weren’t together long, but I expected Tyler to be there for me.

  But, as I stand there looking at him now, I realize none of that matters. All of it’s in the past. We are strangers to one another. He’s no longer the nice country boy that I met a few years ago. He’s Tyler White of Wicked White—one of the hottest rock bands in the country. Hell, the band even made him change his last name from
Mercer to White. He’s a completely different person.

  I followed his rise to fame from the time Wicked White released their debut single until they became the band with the highest-grossing tour of any musical act last year.

  It’s nice to know Tyler’s dream came true. This man before me is a superstar. It’s exactly what he left this town to accomplish and the reason he shoved me out of his life. Tyler’s eyes soften and he opens his mouth to say something, but before he gets a chance to, Blake’s voice cuts between us, “Yo, you two coming or what?”

  “Yeah, we’re coming,” I say and then turn to Tyler and decide that I need to let things be, if only for tonight. “Come on. Drinks on the house for saving our asses tonight.”

  Tyler smiles and then follows me inside.

  TYLER

  Sitting across from Avery is like something out of a dream. I knew coming back here that it would be a possibility that I would run into her. I just never imagined that it would be so soon. When Blake asked me to meet him at the bar where he works tonight, I had no idea that Avery would be there too.

  Blake adjusts the towel that’s wrapped around a bunch of ice on his face. “So, Mr. MTV, how’s life been treatin’ ya? I saw you on TV when you went to the Grammys. Life must be pretty fucking sweet for you.”

  I chuckle. “You could say that.”

  Same old Blake—hasn’t changed a bit since I saw him last. Sure, we’ve kept in touch through texts and social media, but being around someone in person is a much different experience.

  Blake takes a long pull from his beer. “Is it true what they’ve been saying on the news? That the front man for your band is missing?”

  I pick at the label on my bottle. “It’s true. No one has heard from Ace White since he walked off stage a week ago.”

  “So that’s why you’re back?” Avery asks as she studies my face. “You’re on a bit of a break?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Since they can’t find Ace, my tour manager, Jane Ann, cancelled all our upcoming tour dates. I figured it would be a good time to come back and visit Mom and—” I slap Blake on the back. “—a few old friends.”

 

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