Down in Flames (Silver Tongued Devils Series Book 1)

by Samantha Conley

  I can’t watch anymore. I spy my carry-on by the door, so I stand and make my way toward it. As I open the door, I hear one of the girls ask “Who’s that?” I glance back to see Brett look at me—look through me.

  “That’s nobody,” he says.

  Nobody. My heart shatters into a million pieces. I never knew my heart could hurt so badly.

  I think I’m in shock. I don’t even notice my surroundings. I head out the door and quickly throw on some clothes from my bag in the hallway. Once I’m dressed, I take the elevator down and make my way through the lobby to the sidewalk. The doorman asks if I need anything.

  “A cab,” I say, and he waves one down.

  “Where to, Miss?”

  “The airport.”

  I feel like I’m moving in slow motion and I can’t think. Before I know it, I’m at the airport. Thank God I can use my debit card to pay for the cab fare. I move to the ticket agent, and I’m so out of it, I don’t even hear her speaking to me, not until she reaches over the counter and touches my shoulder.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I need to get back to Dallas as soon as possible.” I know she can see that something’s wrong and takes pity on me. I hand her my ticket and she starts working on her computer. Luckily, there’s a flight leaving in an hour and they have a few open seats in economy. I take it and head to the gate.

  Finally, I’m on the plane and headed home. But what is home anymore?

  Chapter 2

  Brett

  I wake up with my head pounding and my mouth tasting like ass. I blink a few times, trying to clear my vision. I stretch my arms out and hit something solid and warm. What the fuck? I look to my left and see blonde hair sticking out from under the covers. I smile, wondering when Kris got here, but I realize I’m in Minneapolis and she’s back home. Fuck! What the fuck did I do? I try to inch away from the blonde and get off the bed when I run into another warm body. I glance over my shoulder and see a brunette smiling at me. I can’t tell if she’s pretty or not. Her makeup is smeared all over her face, like she’s been rode hard and put away wet. Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?

  “Morning, Daddy,” she says to me. “Ready for another round? We don’t have to wake her up. It can just be us this time. I didn’t get enough last night.” She licks her lips and eyes me up and down.

  I just look at her. I must get them out of here. Jesus, what am I going to do? I start moving to the end of the bed and find I’m naked, and so are they.

  “You need to wake your friend up and get the fuck outta here,” I tell her as I run my hands through my hair.

  “Don’t be that way, Daddy,” she pouts. “We can still have some fun.”

  “I said get the fuck out! Now!” I yell at her, waking up the blonde. Damn, she looks worse than the brunette. “Get the fuck out before I call security and they take your asses out!”

  I turn and walk into the bathroom and shut the door. I can hear them moving around, and I can only pray that they’re getting dressed and getting the hell out. I take a piss and hear the door to the room slam shut. I double check to make sure they’re gone before I jump in the shower. I hope it wakes me up because I can’t remember a damn thing about last night, not even the concert. The hot water feels great as I soap up, making sure to wash my dick really, really good. Fuck, did we use protection? Last thing I need is to catch something and pass it on to Kris. Fuck, I love that girl to death. What the fuck was I doing with those sluts? I can’t believe I cheated on her. Or did I? Shit, I think it’s pretty obvious, as I woke up naked with two chicks in my bed.

  I step out of the shower and grab a towel. I’m drying off when I notice a maroon T-shirt, a pair of jeans and flip-flops on the floor. I know they’re not mine, and I doubt they belong to the sluts. I wrap the towel around my waist and bend down to pick the shirt up, and recognize it immediately. It’s Kris’s favorite TWU shirt. Lifting it up to my nose, I smell apples, like the lotion Kris wears all the time. I drop it to the floor. No, it can’t be. She’s in Dallas.

  I hear my phone ring in the other room and hurry out to grab it, but it stops ringing before I get to it. I look around the room. The bed is in shambles. There’s an empty liquor bottle and baggies littering the floor. What the hell? I grab one of the baggies, finding traces of white powder inside. Jesus Christ, I’ve really fucked up. I grab my phone. It’s noon, and I’ve missed six calls— two from Derek and four from Brian. I call Brian back first.

  He picks up on the first ring. “Hello? You finally awake, Sleeping Beauty? Have a busy night?” he chuckles. “Did you like your surprise? Is that why you can’t answer the phone?”

  Surprise? What surprise? I stiffen. “What surprise?” I ask, not sure if I even want to know.

  “Kristen, you dumbass. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you two to get a little time together before we head off to Europe for a few months. I hate that she missed the show, but she said it was fine for her to go straight to the hotel and wait for you. She said she got there okay…Brett? Are you there?”

  My mind is whirling. Kris was here? Last night? “Brian, I think…” I swallow hard. “I think I fucked up.” I drop down onto the bed and put my head in my hand. I hear Brian say he’ll be here in ten and hang up.

  I call Derek. Maybe he can help. Help with what? I don’t know yet.

  “What’s up, dickhead? I was trying to get some more shut-eye,” he mumbles into the phone after the fourth ring.

  “I need you, man. I fucked up, and it’s really bad.”

  “Be there in a minute. Let me throw some clothes on. I’m a few doors down.”

  Derek hangs up, and I decide dressing is a good idea. I grab a pair of jeans out of my bag and slip them on, then turn around and stare at the bed. I can’t believe this. Maybe Derek will have some answers. We’ve been friends since we were kids, going through everything together from football, baseball, high school, and the death of my parents from a car accident. Maybe he’ll know what to do and get me out of this fucked-up situation.

  When I hear the knock at the door, I open and let him in, giving him an opportunity to take in the room.

  “Damn. Did you have a party in here and not invite me?” he laughs. I just look at him, and the smile drops from his face. “What? Is this what you called me about?” he asks.

  I sit down on the bed.

  “I fucked up, Derek, and I don’t even remember it. I woke up, naked, with two chicks in bed with me.” I can’t even look at him. I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I think I’m going to be sick. He doesn’t say anything, and after what seems like an eternity, I look at him to find him staring at me. “Say something, please?” I plead with him. His face grows hard.

  “What the fuck were you thinking, Brett?” he yells at me, making my head throb. He starts pacing around the room. “You’re telling me you cheated on Kris? I can’t fucking believe you. She’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you, and this is how you treat her?” He’s looking at me like he doesn’t even know me.

  “I don’t know, man. I can’t even remember last night. I can barely remember the concert and going backstage, but everything after that is a blur. I don’t know what I did.” I take a deep breath. “I know I fucked up. I need to know what to do.”

  Chapter 3

  Derek

  I look over at my best friend and can’t believe what he’s telling me. He cheated on Kristen. My mind is blown. He’s looking at me like he hopes I have the answer for him, but I sure as hell don’t. I’m still reeling from the words that came out of his mouth. I look around the room and take it in. I see the wrecked bed, the liquor bottles on the floor, and—what the hell? I bend over and pick up a little baggie off the floor.

  “What the fuck is this?” I yell at him again. “You’re doing drugs now? Do I even know you anymore?” Maybe that was a little drastic, but damn. One thing we always talked about was if we ever made it big, we wouldn’t fall into the drugs that run rampant in the rock world. I t
urn to look at him, and he has this blank look on his face.

  “I—I don’t know,” he stutters out. I spot a chair sitting off to the side and plop down into it.

  “Okay, let’s break this down. What’s the last thing you remember?” I ask him.

  The last time I remember seeing him was backstage. All of us had gone to the green room, but he showed up about fifteen minutes after everyone else did. I didn’t get to say anything to him because the place was packed with people, and I was busy trying to get with a cute blonde. I vaguely remember him walking in with two girls, but I really wasn’t paying that much attention. I was too focused on the blonde’s tits that were threatening to pop out of her top.

  Brett is the only guy in the band with a steady girl, so the rest of us hook up with the groupies. I remember leaving with the girl and heading back to the hotel, and I didn’t see Brett again until this morning.

  “I remember leaving the stage and thinking it was a great show. I followed y’all to the green room and that’s it. The rest is a blur. Just occasional flashes.” As he’s finishing his sentence, there’s a knock on the door.

  “That’s probably Brian. I called him too, and he told me the most fucked-up part.” I head to the door and let Brian in.

  “Dude, what the hell’s goin’ on?” Brian asks.

  “Saying Brett’s had an interesting night is putting it mildly,” I mumble back at him. Brian looks over my shoulder and spies Brett sitting on the bed.

  He moves around me. “Brett? What’s goin’ on? Where’s Kristen?”

  Where’s Kristen? She’s here? Oh, fuck. Brett looks at me, then back to Brian.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing her last night. All I know is I woke up with two naked chicks in the bed, and not remembering a damn thing about last night.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Brett look the way he does at this moment, except for when we found out his parents had been killed.

  “Start from the beginning,” Brian says, and Brett tells the story as he remembers it. Brian looks around the room with a keen eye. “I see the bottles, but those sure as hell better not be drugs. You know what I don’t see? Condom wrappers. Please tell me you wrapped your dick last night before you stuck it in who knows what.”

  Brian’s right. I don’t see any wrappers anywhere. I lift the covers off the bed and look underneath, then under the bed and around the floor. Not one single wrapper. Son of a bitch. I look over at Brett, and I swear he’s turned green.

  “Okay, first things first,” I begin. “What does Kristen have to do with last night?” I look at Brian and Brett. Brett still looks a little too green, so I look back to Brian.

  “She flew in last night to surprise Brett. Her plane left late and she didn’t get here early enough to see him before the show. I had the driver drop her off here to wait for him. I know she made it here. I already verified it with the driver and the hotel staff.”

  Holy shit! This is a disaster of fucking epic proportions. “Where is she now?” Damn, if she was here, where the fuck is she now? Does she know what went down last night?

  “She was here at some point,” Brett says quietly. I look over at him. “When I got out of the shower, I found her clothes on the bathroom floor.”

  “How do you know they’re hers?” I ask. He gets up, goes to the bathroom and returns with a maroon T-shirt and throws it at me. I catch it up close to my face and smell apples. Yep, it’s Kristen’s.

  “So, the question is, where the fuck is she now?” Brett stares at the floor.

  Brian looks up from texting on his phone. “I have my assistant checking on some things. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer soon. Have you tried calling her?” he asks Brett.

  I can’t believe we hadn’t thought to call her, especially if Brett knew she was here last night. Brett doesn’t make a move, so I grab my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts, hitting her number. The call goes straight to voicemail, which is unusual. She never has her phone off in case her work calls. Now I’m worried if she’s safe.

  “Straight to voicemail,” I tell the guys.

  Brian looks up from his phone. “She flew back to Dallas last night.”

  Brett grabs his phone and dials. I can hear him chanting, “Pick up, pick up,” but his call also goes voicemail. “Kris, baby, if you’re there, pick up. Please. I’m worried.” Then he hangs up the phone.

  Almost instantly, it rings back. “Thank God,” he mutters. “Kris, I…what? No, baby…Please, Kris—” He lowers the phone and looks down at the screen. “She says she’s done. She’s leaving.” I see his eyes well up and a tear slides down his cheek.

  Shit.

  Chapter 4

  Kristen

  I feel like I’m walking around in a fog. I pull into the driveway, and I can’t even remember the drive home. I can only hope that I drove safely. I park in front of the door, not bothering to park in the garage. I unlock the front door and drop my bag on the floor. It sounds so loud in the empty house.

  I head to the kitchen and open the fridge. Not a whole lot in there. I’d cleaned it out and hadn’t had time to go grocery shopping. I need alcohol. I go to the cabinet and pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels and head to the living room. Plopping down on the couch, I grab the remote off the table and turn on the TV. It’s some reality show that I’ve never seen or heard of, with a man and woman screaming at each other about the both of them cheating. So not what I need to hear right now. I scroll through the guide and find Ghostbusters on. I love this movie. I put down the remote and check the time. It’s just a little after four am. I take the top off the whiskey and take a healthy swig, wincing when it burns my throat. I take another and another until the room starts to spin.

  I set the bottle on the table and glance at the picture sitting there, the one of me and Brett right after he proposed. I see the glow on my face and the goofy smile. He’s looking down at me like I’m the only person in the world. What utter bullshit. I wonder if he was doing this shit before he proposed. How long has this been going on? What the hell did I do wrong?

  I pick up the picture and trace his face with my finger, then I start to cry. Not just cry, but big, gut-wrenching sobs that shake my whole body. I cry until there are no more tears and I’m only occasionally gasping for air. I fall asleep on the couch with the picture clutched to my chest.

  I wake up with a start. I hear the back door open, then someone moving around in the kitchen. I get up to find Nelda, our housekeeper, getting out some cleaning supplies from under the sink.

  “Hey, Nelda,” I say. She jumps and turns around with her hand over her heart.

  “Jesus, you scared me to death. I thought you were going to be gone until Monday?” She looks at me strangely, and I can only imagine what I look like after my crying jag.

  “Nelda, is there any way you could come back tomorrow? I’m not feeling good right now, and I’m in a pretty shitty mood. I don’t want to take the chance of taking it out on you.”

  She looks at me with pity in her eyes and says she’ll come back tomorrow after church, and that she hopes I feel better. Not frigging likely, and not any time soon. Nelda lets herself out the back door, and I head back to the living room. I sit down on the couch and notice it’s just a little after eight. What the hell am I going do? Do I confront him? Let him explain? That’s stupid. I mean, what the hell is there to explain? He cheated on me, and not with one, but two women at the same time.

  I head up the stairs to our bedroom. Once inside, I stare at the king size bed we share, with its soft sheets and warm comforter. We compromised on the heavy comforter since I must have it cold when I sleep, with the fan blowing on me. Brett always says I’m trying to freeze him out so he’ll cuddle up to me at night. I sit on my side and remember the last night we were in here together.

  I’m in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I grab my hair to braid it and snag my ring. I glance down at my left hand and smile when the diamonds catch the light. I can’t believe he propos
ed tonight. I look in the mirror and see the silly little smile I have on my face. I quickly change out of my skinny jeans and blouse and put on my tank top and boy shorts. I made sure to grab the ones that Brett really likes, the ones where the bottom half of my ass shows. I grab my apple-scented lotion and lather it on my arms and legs. I told Brett once that I had thought about getting a more grown-up scented lotion, but he said that he loves it, and every time he sees an apple or smells that scent, he thinks of me. He’s so sweet.

  I open the bathroom door and see him lying on the bed. He’s stripped down to his boxer briefs, and looks at me as I come out. I stop and stare just outside the door. Damn, he’s sexy. I skim my eyes over him, starting from his messy brown hair to his dark brown eyes, then his full soft lips and strong jawline. He moves a little and it makes his pecs flex and his abs contract. I love to lick my way down his six pack, all the way to that sexy as hell V. I notice the twitch in his briefs as he starts to get hard. That makes me a lucky lady. He’s hung, and he knows how to use it. I continue down his muscular thighs and strong calves. Is it sad that I even find his feet sexy?

  “You just gonna stand there, or get the hell over here where you belong?” he asks with a little smile.

  I walk over to him, putting a little extra sway in my hips. I feel silly, but his eyes are eating me up. I reach his side of the bed and he grabs me by the hips and pulls me over him until I’m straddling his stomach.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says as he looks me over. I never really believe it, but when he looks at me this way, I can. He runs his hands up my thighs to my ass and squeezes. His hands can cover my whole ass. “Damn, I love when you wear these.” He keeps his left hand on my ass and moves his right over my rib cage, between my breasts, then around the back of my neck. He gently pulls me down on his chest.

  “I love you so fucking much, Kris,” he says and he presses his lips to mine. I smile against his lips.