Defile

by Jessica Prince

  “Totally platonic.” I grinned and stood from the couch. “It was good to see you again, Garrett. You have no idea.”

  He followed me up, wrapping me in his arms once more. “Yeah I do, Tate. And this isn’t the last time. I don’t care if I have to hunt you down and drag your ass outta San Fran.”

  I returned his hug just as tightly before pulling away and taking a step backward. “I’ll look forward to you trying. Take care for yourself. And tell Kill and Mace to do the same.”

  A disappointed look marred his handsome face. “You could always tell them yourself, you know.”

  That time, when I said his name it was in a warning.

  “Okay, okay,” he relented, holding his hands up. “I’ll tell them. Anyone else you’d like me to give a message to?”

  Tilting my chin down, I glared up at him through my lashes. “Nope. I covered everyone.”

  Those dimples made another appearance. “All right, sweetheart. Take care of yourself. And don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

  Blowing him a kiss, I headed back in the direction I’d last seen Camden, reaching into the tiny purse looped around my wrist to retrieve my cell phone.

  Me: You about ready to go, or should I find other means of transportation?

  His response came through a second later.

  Camden: Give me five, cockblocker. I’ll meet you out front.

  Me: I’ll give you ten just to prove I’m a good friend. And we’ll meet out BACK. Less paps.

  Camden: 10-4

  I headed in the direction of the back exit while shooting Camden’s driver a text telling him where he could find us. Then I dropped the phone back in my bag and pushed through the heavy metal door into the cool night.

  The temperature might’ve dropped, but the pollution still hung heavy in the air, and there wasn’t a single star in the sky.

  I hated LA.

  To be honest, I hated most all of California, San Francisco included. The entire state held way too many memories. But my family, Lyla, and Will were still there, so I couldn’t bring myself to leave. And to top it off, Camden spent most of his time there close to me when he wasn’t touring or recording.

  “Maybe I just need a vacation,” I muttered to myself as I leaned against the brick exterior of the swanky hotel.

  I’d just closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall when a rough, gravelly sound from several feet away startled them open.

  Looking to my right, I noticed the shadowed figures from the other side of a dumpster. I was just about to head back inside, worried I’d stumbled upon a mugger or something, when a familiar voice spoke, sending a chill down my spine.

  “That’s right, baby. Suck it hard. Take all of it. I know you can do it.”

  Oh my fresh hell. I’d have known that voice anywhere. Bile crept up my throat as I stood frozen in place.

  “Uuuuuhnn,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that. Fuck me, I’m about to come. Want you to swallow every fuckin’ drop I’m gonna give you.”

  I was going to be sick. There was no doubt about it. It was the very same voice I’d heard when I walked into that hotel room years back and had my life destroyed by the one man who was supposed to love and cherish me as much as I did him.

  Coming unglued from the pavement, I quickly turned and bolted back toward the door I’d exited minutes earlier.

  “Whoa. Where’s the fire, honey?” Camden asked when I crashed into his strong chest just inside the ballroom door.

  “What?”

  He looked at me, his gorgeous face laced with concern. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I panted, trying to catch my breath. “Nothing. I’m just ready to leave. Can we leave now?”

  He looked like he wanted to push, but thankfully decided against it.

  “Yep, we’re out of here.”

  Thank God. As I let him lead me back outside, I kept my gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in the direction I’d heard Declan’s voice just short moments ago. I couldn’t risk seeing him, not after what I just heard.

  Climbing into the sleek interior of Cam’s Bentley, I finally released an unsteady breath while thinking, Yep. I definitely need a fucking vacation.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tatum

  In the weeks since that godforsaken after party, I’d done everything in my power to avoid any and all mention of Civil Corruption. My TV stayed off unless I was imbibing in a Netflix binge. The only music I listened to was the stuff I’d downloaded myself. And I’d even gone so far as to order any groceries I needed online to be delivered so I didn’t risk seeing any magazine covers or gossip rags with their pictures pasted across the front.

  It was a lot of work, but I was dedicated to my task, and damn proud of my success so far.

  The bar had been a mad crush tonight, and I thanked God I hadn’t been on the late late shift again. Getting out at ten as opposed to two in the morning made a world of difference, but I was still exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat my weight in cookie dough for dinner and fall into my bed.

  But my plans were thwarted as soon as I pushed my front door open and heard “Welcome home, babycakes!”

  Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I headed through the foyer and into the living room. “Not that I don’t love you, but is there a reason you’re currently in my apartment…?” My voice trailed off as I scanned the empty bags of chips and the half-eaten roll of cookie dough scattered around my coffee table. “And eating all my shit? Damn it, Cam! This was my dinner,” I cried, lifting the cookie dough and pointing it at him accusingly.

  Sitting up from his relaxed position, Camden put his feet on the floor and pushed to standing, propping his hands on his hips while shooting me a disapproving look.

  “I’ve told you before, Tate. Cookie dough is not one of the basic food groups.”

  I mimicked his position and glared daggers at my friend. “Says the guy who just devoured half a roll and three bags of Doritos. Speaking of… clean this shit up. I’m not your maid.”

  Casual as could be, he started gathering his trash and headed for the kitchen, snatching the cookie dough from my grasp on his way. Filthy bastard.

  With a heavy sigh, I rubbed the space between my eyebrows as I spoke. “Look, Cam. If you want to hang out here, that’s cool, but I’m beat. Work kicked my ass tonight, so I’m going to crash.”

  Camden grabbed himself a beer after tossing my beloved Pillsbury snickerdoodle dough on the top shelf, then headed back in my direction. “Why are you still working there, Tate? It’s not like you need the money. And even if you did, I’d help—”

  Lifting my hand to cut him off, I glowered. “You know why, Cam. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. Despite what anyone thinks, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

  I couldn’t help the bitterness that twisted around my words like barbed wire. No matter how much I tried to let go of the past, I still harbored so much animosity toward Declan for having that very same mindset years ago.

  “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly. Setting the unopened beer bottle on the coffee table, he wrapped me in a hug and continued talking. “I’m not him, babe. I just mean you should be using this time to get your degree. College was important to you, and you never got to finish. If you have the money, and someone at your back to help you along the way, why won’t you dump that job that’s below what you’re capable of and go back?”

  Pulling from his embrace, I stepped away and pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes. “Can we stop talking about this? Please? Let’s change the subject. Not that I’m not happy to see you always, but what brought you by tonight?”

  He made a face before pulling his lips between his teeth and biting down. “I’m not sure that’s a subject change we should delve into right now, honey.”

  The muscles in my body started to tense and lock. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Well….” He hesitated, reaching around to
scratch the back of his neck. “Figured you haven’t been watching much news lately since you haven’t brought it up, but your ex-loser dipshit’s band has been front and center in the media for a while now.”

  My hands clenched into tight fists all on their own. “And I care about this why?” I asked, trying my hardest to appear unaffected.

  Camden gave me a pitying look that set my teeth so on edge I was worried about the bill for my next dental visit. “Because despite how things ended with you two, I know you still really care about the other guys in that band. And it’s not Declan making waves. It’s that huge blond Viking-looking bastard.”

  “Garrett?” I asked, my heart in my throat. “What happened?”

  Camden’s face was full of concern for me as he relayed the information. “A story was leaked about a week ago. Turns out your boy’s got a little family he’s been keeping secret.”

  “Oh no,” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. “The media found out?”

  “Wait.” Cam’s chin jerked back. “You know he had a woman and kid?”

  “I only just found out after the award show a few weeks ago. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I had some of my people do some digging when I found out, ’cause I knew you’d want details. Looks like their manager got pissed over something and helped an ex-assistant who’d recently been fired leak the story. The press has been relentless. Some of the shit they’re printing is downright savage.”

  “Chris Evers,” I hissed, my blood burning in my veins. “That fucking, fucking snake. God, he’s such a scumbag.”

  “This is the same dude who gave you shit back when you and Declan were together, right?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled through gritted teeth. “The bastard’s a piece of shit. I can’t believe the guys kept him on for this long.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, he’s not anymore. Dude got shit-canned, and then they took it a step further and had him totally ostracized. “I’m talking Mean Girls, you-can’t-sit-with-us style.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I really shouldn’t have let you watch that damn movie with me. You quote it all the freaking time.”

  Cam made a pfft sound and waved me off. “Anyway, I asked around, found out that motherfucker’s on every blacklist in the industry. He’s fucked. I suspect he’ll be living in a cardboard box in a back alley somewhere in the very near future. Like I said… Mean Girls.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at that. Chris Evers deserved nothing less, and I was glad karma was finally coming back around.

  “I gotta say, the chick is hot as hell, and the kid they made is one adorable little rug rat. He’s fucked when she reaches dating age.”

  My eyes bugged out as I gawked back at Cam. “They printed pictures of their little girl?” I cried incredulously. “God, is nothing private anymore? She’s just a little three-year-old baby. She doesn’t deserve to have her picture plastered all over the place.”

  “This is the life, babe. Are you really that surprised? Not a single moral in sight.”

  He was right. And I absolutely hated that. Fame and money corrupted absolutely everyone. No one was safe. That was just one of the many reasons why I hated this freaking industry. I was just so damn grateful that Camden hadn’t been corrupted. I could only hope and pray it never happened.

  I was about to ask for more information when my cell phone started ringing. Pulling it from my purse, I looked at the screen and saw my friend Lyla’s name pop up. Will’s sister had been a few years younger than us in school, so she didn’t really hang out with us a lot before we all took off just after high school. But when I came back from LA, completely broken and distraught, Will had been there. And so had Lyla. The two of us became close. Other than Camden and Will, she was the only other real, loyal friend I had.

  Even after everything imploded, Will had stuck by my side. I knew he was still close with all the guys, and went to visit them as often as possible, but he’d always been mindful not to mention them to me. Our friendship was totally separate from theirs, and vice versa. I’d worried about that at first, but Will was a great guy. The very best, all the way to his core.

  “Ly, hey. Are you calling about Garrett?” I asked as soon as I answered the call. “I only just found out. I can’t believe—”

  “Tate—” she choked through the line. “Oh god. Tate.”

  Fear froze me solid at the sound of her ragged sobs. “Lyla, what is it? What happened?”

  “I-it’s Will. He—” Another cry cut through her words. “He was in a car accident.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes as me chest constricted painfully. “Is he…?” I swallowed past the painful knot in my throat. “Is he okay?”

  “He didn’t make it, Tate.”

  And just like that, my world stopped.

  Chapter Twelve

  Declan

  I couldn’t fucking do this. I didn’t know how. How did someone say goodbye to the best person they’d ever known? How did you keep the overwhelming sorrow and bone-crushing pain from destroying you?

  I didn’t have the first goddamn clue how to handle losing Will. It didn’t seem real. It wasn’t right or fair. He was the very best of all of us. It shouldn’t have been him. I’d have given anything for it to not have been him.

  Sitting in the hard, uncomfortable pew, I stared ahead at the casket, trying to come to grips with the fact that one of my best friends, one of my brothers, was lying inside that goddamn box. Huge pictures of his grinning face rested on easels along both sides. Smaller framed photos of Will with his family, with his younger sister, with us, took up every inch of space that hadn’t been overrun by flowers.

  Fucking flowers.

  Because nothing says ‘sorry your loved one’s dead’ like a goddamn bouquet of roses and daisies. His family didn’t want flowers. They wanted their fucking boy back. The last thing a grieving person wanted to deal with was keeping something alive after someone they loved just died. With every dead flower came the reminder of their loss all over again.

  Fuck you, fucking flower companies.

  The sound of metal on metal pulled my attention from those pictures to Mace sitting on my left.

  “Goddamn it,” I growled under my breath as he finished twisting the cap off his flask and brought it to his lips. “Get your shit together, asshole.”

  Mason’s red-rimmed eyes came to me in a glower. “Fuck off,” he grumbled, taking another pull. “I need this to get through today.”

  I didn’t know what the hell was happening with him, or why he seemed so determined to pickle his liver before the age of thirty-five, but something had to give, and it had to give fucking fast.

  “No, what you need is to pull your head outta your ass and put the goddamn flask away. Lyla deserves better than to have to deal with your drunken bullshit the same day she puts her brother in the ground.”

  Our whispered argument stopped when Mace’s face fell, and he slowly put the flask back in his inside jacket pocket.

  “Sorry,” he grunted quietly. “I’ll get my shit together.”

  Lifting my hand, I gave him a pat on the back. I knew he, Garrett, and Kill were taking this just as hard as I was. The only silver lining in this whole disaster was the fact that Gwen seemed to have gotten her head together and came back to Garrett.

  After everything that went down with our ex-manager helping that bitch Kimber leak her and their daughter’s pictures worldwide, I was worried she was gone for good. I couldn’t stand to see him as miserable as I’d been when I lost Tate. Then we got news of Will, and I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I tracked Baby Mama down and spelled it out for her. She belonged with Garret, and he belonged with her.

  Luckily, she actually listened to me. Unlike a certain heartless redhead.

  Speaking of….

  I lifted my eyes for what had to be the thousandth time, scanning the pews around us for any sight of her. I was certain she’d have been sitting in the row right in front of us, with Lyla. I mi
ght not have talked to her in years, but Will had. And the bastard had made a point to rub my fuckup in my face every chance he got, so I knew those two women were tight. But she was nowhere to be found.

  Lyla was currently sitting between her and Will’s mom and dad, her head down, her shoulders shaking as the minister carried on about my brother being in a better place.

  Fuck that. He should’ve been here.

  “Second row from the back,” Killian muttered from my other side. When I looked at him in confusion, he continued from the corner of his mouth. “Tatum’s in the second row from the back. You didn’t really think she’d skip out on this, did you?”

  When I turned to look over my shoulder, sure enough, the first thing that caught my attention was that familiar fiery hair. Her head was down, shoulders slumped, and I could see the tears falling from her cheeks. Every fiber of my being wanted to get up and go to her. Christ, I’d never been able to stand it when she cried. It gutted me. Every tear was a shard of glass piercing my heart. But then an arm reached around her, resting on her shoulders, and when I glanced to the side, I saw that prick Camden Knight holding her. I wanted to rip that arm off and shove it so far up his ass his fingers would tickle his throat.

  “Chill,” Garrett whispered, leaning over Kill to talk to me. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to lose your cool. And they’re just friends.”

  “How the fuck would you know?” I asked.

  “Because she told me a couple weeks ago, asshole. Now relax, will you?”

  It took every ounce of control I had, but I somehow managed to smother the anger smoldering in my gut and focus on the minister spewing a bunch of shit no one wanted to hear about time healing wounds, and seeing them again on the other side.

  By the grace of God, I managed to keep my mouth shut as I glared at the bastard at the podium, but with every word he said, I retaliated in my head.

  Fuck you. Fuck this. Fuck all that stupid bullshit, you stupid motherfucker.