Owned: An Alpha Anthology

by Jani Kay

  "Shit," Johnny hisses through his teeth.

  "Fuck Shay, that’s hot, baby," the boyfriend says.

  "What’s your name mate?" I ask the boyfriend.

  "Dylan," he replies.

  "Join them, Dylan." He doesn’t hesitate and is in the middle of their kiss in seconds. Johnny sits forward and looks like he’s about to object, when Dylan yanks Lacy’s hair and kisses her hard on the mouth. His mouth drops open.

  "Take your tops off, girls," I give out my next order. Dylan pulls Shayla’s over her head. Lacy does her own and when she sees that Shayla’s wearing nothing underneath, she takes her bra off too.

  Shayla is tiny, with small perky tits. Lacy is long and lean, with huge fake tits. The contrast between them is striking, but I don’t feel a thing, neither of them turn me on. What’s getting me hard, is their unquestioning reactions to my orders. They’ve done exactly what I’ve told them to so far, and their boyfriends have gone right along with it. It’s the power, the control. I know it’s fucked, but it’s just the way I am.

  Johnny can’t stay in his seat anymore and has decided to make a move, but it’s Shayla he kisses first, then Lacy. Now I’m really gonna push things.

  "Clothes off, all of you." Lacy, Shayla and Dylan don’t hesitate. Johnny just sits back and watches them for a few seconds, he rubs his hand over his big square jaw. His eyes flick to mine, then down to Jet. Who, when I look, is now getting a synchronised wank from the two girls he was with when I walked in. The one on his left is having her cunt licked out by Lara and I watch as she throws her head back and moans.

  Johnny chews on his gum, slowly now, he watches as Shayla and Dylan suck on each of Lacy’s tits. This seems to spur him into action and within seconds he’s naked. I notice Dylan stops and looks him over. He’s ripped, but not in a natural way. I’d say that looking at his less than average dick size, his square and prominent jaw and his very big muscles, that he’s overdone the steroids during his life. Still, Dylan seems to like the look of him.

  "You like men, Dyl?"

  He shrugs. "I don’t mind."

  I look at Johnny, who instantly starts to shake his head. "No dude, no way."

  "No?" I ask him. "That’s a shame, looks like Lacy’s having fun but if the answers no, then you’ll have to leave."

  Lacy turns toward him. "Have another line of coke baby, and let’s just have some fun." Lara’s instantly at his side with a mirror, four lines and a rolled up fifty dollar note. He looks around the room at everyone else. Pharrell and Daft Punk sing about getting lucky over the sound system. He takes the note from Lara and snorts a line up each nostril. He leans across the girls, grabs Dylan around the neck and slams his mouth against his.

  Well, that was easy!

  The girls join in the kiss and my heart rate speeds up, but I’m still not hard.

  "Touch each other," I bark out, "I want to see your hands on and in each other, mouths too." I watch as Shayla smiles at Dylan. He adjusts his position on the sofa and leans forward. He takes Johnnie’s cock in his hand and starts to stroke it. He slides down onto the floor and takes him into his mouth. They all move around. Johnnie’s sitting back on the sofa, his legs wide open as Dylan sucks on his cock. The girls are kneeling either side of him. They lean across and kiss each other and I watch as he slides a hand up each of their legs and pushes his fingers inside them as they alternate between kissing him and sucking on each other’s tits.

  Jet stands up and I watch as he approaches Dylan. He’s naked, with his skinny arse in the air and it’s obviously too much for Jet to resist. I start to undo my jeans. My hard on is pressing against the waistband of my jeans and it’s getting painful.

  And then in an instant, my world changes.

  The screech of tyres, the sensation of spinning, rolling, blue lights flashing, glass smashing but above it all, above everything else is this song. When everything went quiet and I looked across at my brother, his eyes were wide but seeing nothing. All I could hear was the voice of Anthony Kiedis, singing the Chili Peppers ‘Scar Tissue’ and it’s all around me now. That song, those sounds and images, surrounding me.

  I try to get up out of the chair but the room spins. I need to get to my room, get away, I need to get away from this song and these people. I don’t do this song. I avoid this song at all costs and now it’s here, playing loud, surrounding me and making me remember. Her, that night. The night she didn’t show. We ended up places we shouldn’t have been, wouldn’t have been, if she’d just shown up.

  I head as quickly as I can back to my hotel bedroom. I’m vaguely aware of Jet screaming for someone to, "Turn this fucking song off." I just make it to my bathroom in time to throw up down the toilet. I can barely breathe as I fall to my knees. I struggle to get air into my lungs and feel like I’m about to choke on my own vomit, making the panic worse. I cling onto the sides of the cold toilet bowl, my arms shake as they hold my weight. This hasn’t happened for a long time, a long fucking time, but I still hate when it does. It makes me feel weak, like a failure.

  I’m Conner Reed, rock fucking God.

  I have men and women around the world worship me. I’m the son of completely fucked up parents. I’ve watched my brother die in front of me and spent three months in prison for being in the stolen car my brother died in and despite all of that, I’ve achieved cult status in my life.

  Women want me, men want to be me and yet, one song, just one fucking song, can bring me to my knees. I can’t believe that I still react like this. That song takes me right back to it like it’s actually happening. I know I should see someone. I know I should talk about it, sit down with a professional, but I can’t. I don’t talk about my feelings; instead, I write songs that sort of explain how I feel and I engage in mindless group sex, the kind where I remain detached and in complete control. Other people were in control that night, other people’s actions controlled the direction my life went that fateful night and I’ll never let that happen again.

  Jet bursts through the bathroom door, his eyes are wide as he looks me over. I look up at him from where I’m on my knees in front of the toilet.

  "You okay, dude?" I nod my head. I’m still breathing deeply and unable to speak. "I’ve shut the music down and sent them all home." He smiles his wonky smile at me and his blue eyes sparkle like the naughty kid that’s usually lurking just below the surface of Jet’s persona. He’s too pretty for his own good. Women can’t decide if they want to mother or fuck him, and blokes want to either fuck him or fuck him over, but he’s a lot tougher than he looks. He’s been a good mate to me and I love him like a brother. "Everyone except Lara, she’s waiting in my bed."

  I smile and shake my head. "Sorry, if I spoilt your night man. I’ve got this now, go back and have some fun." His eyes look me over as I stand up straight.

  "I can send her away and stay with you if you want." I shake my head no as I walk past him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge in the bedroom.

  "I’m just gonna watch some telly and try and get some sleep." He turns around to face me, but remains standing in the doorway to the ensuite bathroom, his arms spread apart as he holds onto each side of the door frame.

  "Reed, you know I’d send her home in a heartbeat and stay in here with you if you need me to." I keep my back to him as I walk over to the window and look out at the city lights below me.

  "Jet, let’s not do this, please mate, not tonight."

  "I just wish you’d give us a try, Reed."

  "Jet, I love you like a brother man, but that’s it, that’s as far as it goes. I don’t fancy men, I’m not gay."

  "I’m not gay either. I… I don’t know how to explain it, but if I was with you there’d be no one else, man or woman. I love you, Reed. I want to be with you. I want us to be a couple and to make a life together. I’d happily give up all of this. We could just fuck off, disappear somewhere and live our lives in peace and quiet." I’ve heard this so many times. I feel bad, because I don’t want to hurt him, but I j
ust don’t feel it. I turn away from the window and face him.

  "Jet, I can’t force myself to be something I’m not. You’re my mate, my best mate, but I don’t find you sexually attractive. I don’t have any desire to fuck you or any other bloke. I like women, I like to fuck women."

  He takes a step toward me, his arm out. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and they hang loosely from his skinny frame. His dark curly hair’s a mess and hangs over one eye. He looks like a mixture of Jim Morrison and Michael Hutchence, and if I were gay, if I did have a thing for men, I’m sure I’d find him attractive, but I’m not, and I don’t.

  "But you don’t even do that, do you Reed?" He puts his hands on his hips and I know this is going to end in an argument. I’m mentally and physically drained. All I want to do is to crawl into my lonely bed and dream about her. The only time I get peace, absolute peace, is when I dream of her. The sensation of her lips on me, her taste, the sensation of her small hands on me, her smell. When I dream, it’s all so real and that’s where I want to be right now. Not standing here, having this argument with Jet, again.

  Every time we’re due to spend time apart he does this. Whenever we end a tour or have a break from recording and I’m heading back to England, he asks me again. Every time I say no, and it ends in an argument.

  "You don’t fuck them, not really. You sit back and watch, you dish out your orders while you touch yourself, but you hardly ever let them touch you and when you do, it’s usually their mouth you fuck or you jack yourself off all over them. Why can’t they touch you? Why can’t anyone touch you?"

  I take a swig from the bottle of water in my hand. "Jet, fuck off back to your own room. My answer’s the same as it is every other fucking time you start with this shit. Now fuck off and leave me in peace." He takes another step closer. "Just a chance, Reed, just one chance. I know we could be so good together. I just want a chance."

  "No," I shout. "No, my answer’s no now, and it’ll always be no. I’ll walk away, Jet. If you keep this up, I’ll walk away from it all, you, the band, all of it. I’m not working with this hanging over us. You either get your head around the fact that it’s never gonna happen or I’m fucking off for good and I mean it this time. My life’s fucked up enough. I don’t need your shit adding to it." His shoulders slump as he stands in front of me. I feel bad, but I’m still pissed off and I mean what I’ve said. I’m thirty-two years old and I’m so sick of this life that I’m leading. I love the band and the music, but everything outside of that is seriously fucked. The sex, the women, the parties, all of it means nothing. It’s all superficial bullshit and I hate it, and the people that are part of it. I just want to go home to my family and step away from all of it and the last thing I need is Jet and his ‘let’s have a relationship’ drama going on, while I’m at home. I don’t need his phone calls and texts, begging me to just let us try. I want to sleep and I want to dream, and right now, I just need him to go.

  "One day, one day you’ll understand," he says through gritted teeth. "You’ll love someone so fucking much that it’s painful and then you’ll get it."

  "No, no I won’t. Not again, I won’t. See, I’ve been there. I know what a lying, spiteful, deceitful little cunt love is and I won’t ever go there again. So you just need to make up your mind, you either stop with all this bollocks and we come back in September, or we leave tomorrow and announce the end of the band, ‘cause I’m done this time. I’m seriously done."

  "But I love you, I fucking love you, Reed."

  I’m done, I can’t do this anymore. "Get out, get out of my room and stay out of my life. I’ll sort out a separate flight back to London tomorrow. I don’t want you to call, text or email me. I want no contact with you, whatsoever. I’m done Jet, I just want some peace. Now, get out of my room and stay out of my fucking life."

  He looks at me for a few seconds and I have no idea what the look in his eyes means. He starts to nod his head. "Your call Reed, just remember that this was your call." He turns and leaves the room without looking back. I screw the cap on the water bottle and launch it at the door as he shuts it behind him. Fucking drama queen. I love him, but he does my fucking head in sometimes. I lock the bedroom door, pick up my bottle of water and climb into bed. I turn on the telly with the remote control and flick through the channels. Notting Hill is playing on one of the film channels and that’s all it takes for my mind to drift to her.

  We went to see this film together. I moaned, but she reminded me that I’d promised to go with her when she came with me to see the Green Mile, which, she had ended up loving and oddly enough, I didn’t end up hating Notting Hill quite as much as I thought I would. I leave the film on, I don’t usually, any other night it’d be off… gone. I go out of my way to avoid anything, music, films, places, anything and anywhere that might remind me of her, or take me back to that night. But after everything else that’s happened tonight so far, it seems a bit pointless.

  I pile my pillows on top of each other, turn off the lights, lay back and attempt to watch the film. It takes all of twenty seconds before my mind starts to wander back to her. December the thirtieth, nineteen ninety-nine was the last time I’d seen her in person. I left her at the end of her drive. We’d spent the night making love in the back of my brother’s car. We had a spot in the local woods where we’d park, climb into the back and worship each other’s bodies the best we could through our clothes. I loved the rare occasions that we were able to share a bed and I could get her completely naked. Five times, that’s all it happened. I’ve worshiped and fantasised about this girl for most of my life and I’d only seen her completely naked five times. I’d only gotten to fall asleep and wake up with her in my arms twice, and yet all these years on, I was still desperate to have that experience again. Despite what she did, despite what her actions caused, I was still in love with her.

  Her family had totally forbidden her from seeing me. According to them, I was from a rough family and the fact that we lived on the local council estate didn’t meet with their approval either. So, we had spent a year sneaking around, seeing each other behind their backs. My brothers were good, Ty and Jordan both had their own places and let us borrow a bedroom for a few hours and we even stayed over at Ty’s twice, but it wasn’t enough. We wanted more. We wanted to be together all the time, every day, so we set our plan in motion. I was at college studying music, but we needed to get some money together so we could try to get away. Tyler gave me a job as a labourer with his building firm and I played the local pubs and bars in the evenings and on a Sunday afternoon. Meebs was still at school. We didn’t want to break the law, so we decided not to leave until she was sixteen. She had a part-time job in a clothing shop at the local shopping centre and she worked there two evenings and every weekend. We saved every penny.

  The plan was for Miles to drop us at Guildford Station that night and we were going to get the train to Cornwall from there. We chose Cornwall as we’d both always wanted to learn to surf. We loved the beach and we thought, hoped, that it’d be the last place her parents and arsehole of a brother would ever think to look for us. She was going to leave a note, telling them that we’d gone to London. We thought we could lie low in Cornwall for a while, see if we could pick up some work and then once the fuss had died down, we could head over to Europe and backpack our way around. Meebs would do bar work, I’d do whatever I could pick up, but was hoping that music would be a part of whatever I did.

  We made love in the car that last night, we were both so excited and so in fucking love, that I still can’t understand why she didn’t show. I kissed her at the end of her drive and she told me she’d go to the ends of the earth with me, and that she couldn’t wait for us to spend the rest of our lives travelling and just being together. She kissed me one last time and walked up the drive to that big, fuck off mansion she lived in with her mum, dad and Pearce, her prick of a brother. By the time I’d walked to the end of her street and gotten back in Miles’ car she had texted me and
told me again how much she loved me. She texted me a good morning the next day and told me she was going shopping with Sophie, and then nothing. I didn’t hear another thing. She didn’t show, she just didn’t show. I called her and I called Sophie but got nothing. I finally got a hold of my best mate Josh, who was Sophie’s brother and he told me that his mum had rushed off to meet up with them and they were going to some millennium party at a fancy hotel that night.

  I have no idea what happened that day to make her change her mind, but it must’ve been something big, because she never showed and I never heard from her again.

  Miles could see I was devastated. He knew how much I loved her and how hard I’d worked to pull our plan together. So, he took me to the pub and we had a few drinks. It was the last night of the millennium and the place was mobbed, so at around nine, we left the pub and went to a party at his mate’s house. It was rammed, people everywhere. The place stunk of weed and as soon as midnight was done with, I wanted to go home. I was tired, pissed off and had a banging headache. I wanted to go home, charge my phone that was now dead and hopefully wake up in the morning to a million missed calls and messages from Meebs telling me we were still on and this had all been one great big fucking balls up. I never made it home, not that night, not any night since.

  We were about half way across town when I noticed the blue light flash behind us. "The old Bill’s up your arse Miles, will you be over the limit?" I’d seen him drinking at various times during the night, surely they would’ve all topped up in his system and he’d be over the limit by now.

  "Fuck," he said out loud and banged his palm down onto the steering wheel. I looked at him, he was completely freaking out.

  "What’s wrong, did you have a tote on that joint earlier as well?"