My face heated and my breathing grew ragged. I balled my fists up, gritting my teeth. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
Rush tossed his hands up and glared coldly at me. “Whatever, dude. You’ll thank me later.” He made his way to the door, stopping as he pulled it open. “Man, I’m sorry. But it really is for the best that you guys just give it up.”
He shut the door and Stone came into the living room. “I’m just gonna…yeah…” He leaned down and grabbed his keys from my table and walked to the door. “Good luck with that,” he said, closing the door behind him.
I stood in front of the door, staring at the painted wood, wondering how the hell I could explain that the bet was just a joke. It was a sick joke, just a stupid fucking joke. I never thought it would go anywhere with her. Roxy was looking for any excuse to end this before it really hurt her. I knew that the first date on our tour was a death sentence in her head, and that stupid comment Rush had just made was her out.
“Roxy? Open the door.”
Silence.
“Open the door, damn it.”
I heard her slamming things around, and then I heard footsteps stomping to the door. She yanked it open, bags in hand, and attempted to walk past me.
“Oh, no.” I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back a few steps.
“Get your hands off me!” She shook her entire body, trying to free herself from my grip.
Raising my eyebrows, I looked dead in her eyes. “No.”
“A fucking bet? I mean. I could so see that. You are such a damn jerk, such a womanizer, and the fact that I acted like I couldn’t stand you just really set your ass on fire, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did. But I didn’t make a bet. Stone and I were joking. A joke, Roxy. It was just a fucking joke. Do you really think I would bet that I could get you?”
“Yeah, I do. You’re an ass and a whore!” she said, jerking free from me.
“Well, so what, even if it were a bet?”
She glared at me, her entire face turning red, and she slammed her bags on the floor. “Well, I guess that would just make you a liar and a complete piece of shit, and make me a damn idiot!”
She continued to scream at me, calling me all kinds of names even as tears welled up in her brown eyes. Half of what she was saying didn’t even make sense. When someone’s terrified of something, they’ll do just about anything to get out of it. And it was obvious she was terrified of being hurt, and this moment was her chance at freedom. This way she could blame it all on me and never have to look back.
In the middle of her rant, I reached over and gripped her arms. I raised one finger and pressed it against her lips, and she fell quiet. Then I blurted out, “I love you.”
Shock jolted through me. I was utterly mortified that I had just let those words come out of my mouth. I had just let my shield down and made myself completely fucking vulnerable.
She blinked. Surprise rippled across her face, softening her expression, and her tensed muscles relaxed. I could see her thinking, wondering if I was just trying to get out of the current pile of shit I’d fallen into.
What the fuck? I’d already said it. “I love you. And that’s not something you should take lightly, because I don’t even love my damn self! So if you want to leave me, if you want to believe a fucking idiot over me – or better yet, if you just want a way out of this – if you don’t love me too, then just go ahead and leave. I won’t stop you.” I leaned my back against the wall and swallowed, my fingers curling into my sweaty palms, my stomach turning as I waited on some response from her, on some acknowledgment that she’d really heard what I’d said. I felt fucking ridiculous, but only because I was terrified that I’d just opened myself up like that.
I watched her fight back the tears that were pooling in her eyes, but when she closed them several trickled down her cheeks. When she finally opened them to look at me, she seemed lost, confused, and so damn uncertain. She was terrified too.
I took a step toward her. “Damn it. I mean it. I don’t need to be with you for a year to fucking know I love you. Whether you do or not, I love you.”
She pulled her lip underneath her teeth, biting down as she took a deep breath. “I love you too,” she whispered in a surrendering tone just before she forced her lips to mine, then rested her head on my shoulder. “Just don’t lie to me. Don’t hurt me. Jag, please, just don’t hurt me.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “I won’t. I promise.” I didn’t want to lie to her. I didn’t want to lose her. But I was already living a damn lie.
Chapter 37
Two days until we left for our first tour stop in London, and I was supposed to get the results of the paternity test any minute. I was a nervous fucking wreck. I didn’t want to lose her, but I knew this was going to kill her. Not the fact that I had a kid, but the fact that I was a liar.
Roxy had gone to eat dinner with her sister, and I kept rehearsing how in the fucking world I could break this to her. So. You see, I have this kid that I just found out about that I’m debating on signing over…no. Maybe, I just wanted to make sure he was mine before I laid this on you. Hell, what about…I mean, the fact that I’ve only got one is pretty damn amazing.
There was no good way to say it that wouldn’t make me out to be an ass. To suppress the uncomfortable feeling, the worry of how the hell I was going to break this news to her, I took the opportunity to get as fucked up as possible.
I glanced at the clock, figuring I had another good hour before she’d be back. I cut up some more lines on my table. My skin was damp with perspiration and my hands had a slight tremor as I steadied the straw over the powder. Just as I snorted the first line, my doorbell rang, then rang again and again. Soon enough there was banging on the door, followed by Roxy yelling for me to let her in.
I don’t know if it was panic that made my pulse speed up just then, or just the amphetamines sweeping through my blood. I froze and took in my surroundings. Drugs were all over the place. Several pill bottles were strewn on the table, along with the empty pint of bourbon I’d used to wash them back which had tumped over in the floor. A light dusting of blow coated the glass table top. I couldn’t clean this shit up.
I tucked the bag of coke in my pocket and finished snorting back the line, not bothering to wipe the leftover residue off the table. I wasn’t going to lie to her about the drugs anymore. I couldn’t lie to her. As much shit as I’d just done over the past hour and a half, she’d be able to tell I was blitzed as soon as she looked in my eyes. Maybe this would be a good precursor to the whole, “hey, I’ve got a kid” thing. I left the evidence out, running my hand over my head as I stumbled to the entrance.
I unfastened the lock and swung the door open.
Her face was covered in an angry red glow and her eyes were bloodshot. She let out a groan and pushed her way past me, stopping when she reached my coffee table. Roxy had a magazine rolled up in her hand and she used it to angrily point at the white dusting across the glass table. “Really? So, at least there’s one thing you’re consistent with. And that’s fucking lying.”
She smacked the magazine down on the table, and a small cloud of expensive Columbian cocaine wafted up into the air. As soon as I glanced at the picture on the cover of the magazine, the pit of my stomach balled up. I lowered my head, covering my eyes with my hands because I knew everything was about to fall to pieces.
She grabbed my arm and yanked my hand away from my face. “Oh, no! What the hell is that, Jag? Is that true? Tell me that’s not true!” She huffed again and tossed my hand to my side. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt because you promised me you’d never lie to me!”
I skimmed over the headline: Jag Steele’s Lovechild. The picture was one someone had taken at the park that day in Savannah; their timing must have been damn good because they had caught me hugging Stephanie, and then in the right-hand corner was a blown-up picture of me and Layne in the sandbox. I could feel shame relax my face.
“J
ag! How the hell could you not tell me you have a kid? A kid?”
I didn’t know what to say. Grinding my teeth, I walked into my kitchen and grabbed a glass from the counter. I pulled a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and started to pour it in the cup, but instead I just closed my lips around the mouth of the bottle and put a few bubbles in the hot liquid. I wiped my mouth and then mumbled, “It wasn’t really a lie. It was more of avoiding a topic.”
Roxy glared at me, her face growing a deeper shade of crimson the longer I ignored her question. The toe of her shoe slammed against the marble floor, and then she fell back into the couch, burying her face in her hands to cry. She was bawling, sucking in air and letting out long wails.
I stood in the middle of my kitchen gripping the bottle of bourbon, completely shocked that she was sobbing uncontrollably. I’d expected her to become angry with me, but not cry – at least not right away.
“Princess, I just – you don’t understand.” I hurried toward her, knelt down, and tried consoling her by rubbing my hands over her thighs. Pushing her chin down, I stared at her. I’d fucking hurt her and that damn near killed me. “Shit,” I groaned, shaking my head. “Roxy, I found out the day my dad died. I had no idea –”
“Who was she?” Roxy’s eyes were closed, tears streaming down her face. She refused to look at me when she whispered it again. “Who was she, Jag? Did you tell her you loved her? Did you make promises you knew you’d never keep to her too? Because it looks like things really worked out for her.”
I got up and sat next to her on the couch. “She was my girlfriend, when I was just Jagger. I met her at the community college I went to.”
“And you left her? That kid looks – hell, like, four or something?”
Rubbing my hand over my mouth, I let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. He’s almost six.”
“How the hell could you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Aggravation at the situation crept up my chest. “I had no idea. Did you not just hear me say that? That bitch left me!”
Roxy wiped the tears from under her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Out of all the things you’ve told me – all the nasty parts of me I’ve shared with you – why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged. “Because…” my mind flipped through the events of the last few months. My embarrassment, the feeling of failure flooded me, and I jumped up from the couch. I hadn’t gotten over the emotions of it all and to keep from breaking down in front of her like I wanted, I got angry and defensive. “I mean, he’s not mine anymore. I’m signing him over to her. He’s got a dad. I’m not a fucking dad! Do I look like dad material to you?”
Roxy’s expression fell blank and she swallowed hard. “You signed him over?”
“Yeah. Well, I’m going to. My lawyer made me ask her for a DNA test, just to make sure she didn’t try to fuck me over any more. And to try to head off any negative publicity if we could. But as soon as that comes back,” I tossed my hands up, “it’s done.”
She let out a disgusted huff.
I pulled the coke from my pocket and dumped some out on my counter, hastily pushing out lines and feeling in my other pocket for my straw.
“You aren’t gonna change.”
Everything was about to blow up. This was all inevitably about to end. And I didn’t want to feel how badly it was going to hurt. I needed to be as numb as possible. As I leaned my head over the line, I glanced up at her and sucked back the first line in defiance. “Nah. Probably not.” I shot a cold glare at her as I wiped the grit from underneath my nose.
Roxy pushed herself up from the couch, and her eyes started watering up again. She just shook her head for what seemed like minutes before she finally whispered, “I knew better. Guys like you can’t change. You’re too damn selfish to do it.”
“Guys like you, guys like you – fuck! Give that shit up already,” I shouted. “I am who I am. I am a guy like that, princess. Deal with it!”
I felt like I had to make myself seem harder and colder. Everything in my life was crumbling, and I just needed to push anything that made me feel something out. And Roxy, she made me feel too goddamn vulnerable. She forced me to feel, and I couldn’t stand it. My every thought revolved around her, and if I’d let her, she could ruin my life. She made me miss her, she made me not want to go on tour, not want to do anything besides just be with her. She made life real, and I’d thought that’s what I wanted. I’d thought that was what I needed, but I was fucking wrong. I didn’t need a damn reality. I didn’t need someone that could make me feel so stupid, so helpless, like more of a failure than I already was. All I needed was my cocaine and my fame. For the past six years I had thought a piece of Jagger still existed somewhere in the dark crevices of my warped mind, but I was wrong. He was gone. I was Jag. I was fame. I was a person who didn’t deserve love, couldn’t not end up breaking her heart – and she deserved better. I loved her and I couldn’t do this to her; I didn’t want to burden her with my bullshit.
I angrily threw the metal straw down, and it clinked as it rolled across the countertop. “I am fucking selfish, princess. I’m a selfish, arrogant, self-consumed addict. I don’t need a damn kid. I don’t want a kid, and I don’t need anything that will interfere with who I am! And if you’re going to try to change me, I don’t need you either! I’m not sober. I never will be. I don’t want to be – not even for you!”
Roxy’s nostrils flared, and for a moment it looked like she was going to break down again, but she just pulled in a deep breath and lifted her chin a little, trying to maintain some pride. “And you’re a damn good actor. Because for a while,” she nodded, “for a while there, Jag, I thought you loved me.” Laughing, she slapped her hand over her forehead. “You made me believe you fucking loved me. Even before you let that lie roll from your lips, I believed it. I thought maybe I was different, maybe you were different.” Her voice shook, and the tears she’d been holding back collected in her eyes. “You made me believe I was worth something. You gave me faith, and hope, and I thought I’d finally found the person that would fix me. You made me love you. You forced me to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to. I tried to get away from you, and you wouldn’t let me.” Her breath caught and she swallowed back a sob. “You let me fucking love you,” she screamed at me, the tears pouring down her face. “And now. You don’t need anything that will interfere with that badass rock star you pretend to fucking be? That’s not you and you know it.”
I wanted to scream that I didn’t mean it. I wanted to grab her and tell her that I did love her. That I loved her before she could have possibly loved me. I wanted to scream that she was the only thing I’d ever loved and needed, but I didn’t. The drugs made me unable to feel, they numbed my mind, my heart, and wouldn’t let me put my shield down.
“Nah, princess. I don’t need anything to interfere with me.” I leaned over and snorted back a bump.
“Well, I’ll be sure to not stand in your way, then.” Roxy stood in the middle of the room, chewing on her bottom lip, straining to keep those gut-wrenching sobs of hers back. “You know, you really couldn’t have had better timing with all this. Looks like you just keep repeating the same damn patterns.”
She quietly made her way to the doorway, and I heard her breath catch as she sucked back some more tears. “You can go on being Jag Steele, completely unscathed by my brief moment in your life, and I’ll just carry the scars you’ve left me with. Don’t worry, I’m used to people fucking me over and leaving me with emotional damage.” She shook her head in disgust. “So stupid. I was so fucking stupid with you! Careless. Absolutely careless!”
“And what the hell is all that supposed to mean, huh?” I leaned against the counter and flaked a piece of the black nail polish off from my nail. “What fucking scars have I given you?”
I glanced up just in time to see her shoulders relax and her eyes focus on the floor. I kept waiting for that foot of hers to start tapping, but it didn’t.
Jerking her
head up, she looked in my direction, finally making eye contact with me. “Looks like you’re gonna have two kids that you don’t know. Don’t worry, I’ll just leave the father’s name blank on the birth certificate. I don’t think I could stand the humiliation. I’d rather have been a damn one night stand than some dumb girl who believed all your fucking lies.”
My heart plummeted and my entire body shook. I could feel my jaw trembling, and tears pricked my eyes. “What? Roxy, what did you just say?” My voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
She placed her hand on the door and twisted the knob. “I’m pregnant, Jag. Like you said, though, you don’t need anything to interfere with your lifestyle.”
Roxy opened the door and I jumped on top of my counter, sliding across and sending several decorative vases smashing into the floor as I tried to reach the door before it slammed closed.
“Roxy. Wait!” The door slammed shut. And I immediately jerked it open and ran outside. “Roxy. I was angry. Don’t – I fucking love you. I love you more than…” I screamed, slightly growly at my frustration with the situation and my ineptness at explaining how I felt to her. By this point tears were falling down my cheeks, but I didn’t care.
She threw her hand up and reached for her car door. “More than yourself? You don’t even like yourself, Jag. That’s not saying a damn thing! Maybe if you said you love me more than drugs, more than your fame – but then you’d just be lying to me again! I’m over it, Jag. I can’t…” she trailed off, and pointed at me. “Don’t come any closer to me – I can’t take your lies. I can’t take you!” She sat down in her car, the door still cracked. “I can’t put my own kid through what I went through. You’re a lost cause. I wanted to fix you, but I can’t. Two broken people can’t make a whole, and now I’ve got an entire new set of problems to worry about instead of a doped-out, sex-crazed boyfriend. Do me a favor and when all the questions start coming your way, just say it isn’t yours! Save us both the humiliation.”
Jag (Pandemic Sorrow #1) Page 26