Defile (Civil Corruption Book 2)

by Jessica Prince

  “Don’t you ‘what the hell’ me.” I shoved my index finger in his face.

  “I’ll ‘what the hell’ you all I want when you’re doing something as epically stupid as agreeing to go to your ex-boyfriend’s hotel room. Jesus, Tate.” He began pacing my room, raking his fingers through the hair that women all across the globe would give an ovary to touch and caress. “You know what he did to you. Why would you willingly walk into a situation where he could stomp you to dust all over again?”

  I couldn’t find the words to make him understand why I had to do it. It wasn’t about Declan. It was about Mace, Killian, and Garrett, three men I’d lost a long time ago, but three men who, to this day, I’d give my life for. “I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’d get, Cam. You weren’t there when we were growing up. All I can tell you is the other members of Civil Corruption are important to me. Always have been, always will be. I’m not going tomorrow for Declan. I’m going to hear what they have to say. Besides”—I tried my best to smile reassuringly—“you’ll be there to make sure no stomping of any kind happens.”

  “Can’t promise that,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare, toned chest. It seemed that it was my curse to spend my life surrounded by some of the best looking men to ever wander the planet. “After this lovely little visit, I’m in the mood to stomp that jackass’s face beneath my boot.”

  “Cam,” I whispered, dreading asking the question I needed to ask, and fearing his response. What he said could end up breaking our friendship, and the thought of that killed me. “When you said I’d been your woman for five years—”

  “Relax, babycakes.” The tension melted from his frame, a teasing smile taking over his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. “I love you, but definitely not in that way. That was just me screwing with Forrester’s head.”

  I wanted to feel relief, but I hesitated. “You sure? Because I don’t want what we have—”

  He pulled me into a tight hug, forcing my head to rest on his shoulder. “I’m positive. You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that. And when we first met, sure, I’d have given my left nut to nail you, but it’s different now. You just… don’t do it for me, sweetheart.”

  I should’ve been insulted. Hell, I wanted to be insulted, but the relief was just too damn strong. “Thank you,” I whispered, returning his hug.

  “You’re thanking me for not being attracted to you?” he asked on a bewildered laugh.

  Lifting my head to look up at him, I smiled. “Yeah. Despite the crushing hit to my ego that I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from—”

  He pinched my side and muttered, “Smartass.”

  “—I can’t lose you, Cam. You’re one of the most important people in my life. If that was hanging between us….” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

  “It’s not,” he assured me in a quiet voice. “I swear, babe. You’re my family.”

  Thank God.

  I’d already lost one family ten years ago. I couldn’t risk losing another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tatum

  “You ready for this?”

  Nope, not even a little bit. But instead of admitting that out loud, I simply sighed and answered, “Let’s just get this over with.”

  The elevator doors leading us up to the Presidential suite opened, revealing Mace propped against the wall on the other side. A massive sense of relief swept over me at the sight of his smiling face.

  “Figured you’d feel more comfortable walking in with a little backup.”

  “You’re the best,” I said on a breath, walking up to him to give him a hug.

  When we separated, he held his hand out to Camden. “Mason Keller, but friends call me Mace.”

  “Camden Knight.” The two men shook hands for a second before Mace started leading us down the hall.

  “I’ve heard some of your music,” Mace continued to talk. “Gotta say, it’s pretty damn good.”

  Camden’s chuckle reverberated off the white walls surrounding us. “Don’t sound too surprised or anything.”

  The innate need to defend my longtime friend overwhelmed me. “Well,” I started, looking up at Cam, “I’m sure you’ve heard some of their stuff. You can agree you aren’t exactly his style.”

  “I’m teasing, babycakes. Relax. This is all gonna be fine.”

  Taking his hand, I gave it a squeeze in silent thanks for his support. When Mace opened the door to the suite, I wasn’t sure what to expect—maybe for the ground to drop out from under me all of a sudden, or the sky to start falling and whack me on the head. But when I stepped across the threshold to nothing disastrous, I couldn’t help but feel a bit… underwhelmed. A concussion would have been the perfect excuse to get out of whatever was about to happen.

  Killian and Garrett both greeted me with exuberant hugs, and I laughed once I finally detached. “You guys act like you didn’t just see me less than twenty-four hours ago.”

  “Yeah well, the circumstances were less than enjoyable then,” Killian spoke in a deep, husky voice. “We’re hoping today’s a bit better.”

  I was a little taken aback when Garrett’s girlfriend Gwen came up with a small smile and offered me her hand. “It’s good to see you again.

  With a playful roll of my eyes, I pulled her into a hug, replying, “I won’t bite. If you’re dating one of these losers, you’re family. We hug.”

  “We’re more than dating,” Garrett chimed in, pulling her against his side and lifting her left hand in the air. “She’s gonna be my wife.”

  “Oh my god!” I cried with excitement. There were more hugs and congratulations going around for the next several minutes.

  “Can you believe someone actually agreed to marry his ugly ass?” Killian teased, earning himself a punch in the gut from Garrett.

  Gwen giggled, her face blushing red as Garrett held her like she was the most precious thing in his universe. It took Herculean effort, but I managed to snuff out the envy for the happy couple and keep my eyes from drifting toward Declan. I didn’t need to see him to know he was in the room; I’d sensed him the moment I walked in. He was currently standing over by the bar in the far left corner of the spacious room while everyone else was gathered around me. I’d felt those smoldering eyes on my skin the entire time, and was doing my best to fight my body’s natural reaction to shiver.

  “So, is that what I’m here for this morning? This is such awesome news. I’m so glad you guys included me.”

  The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted, and the light humor and celebration drained from everyone’s expressions.

  “Uh, well… no,” Garrett said. “I mean, of course we wanted you here to find that out, but we really wanted to talk to you about something else. We, uh… well, we have a proposition for you. I mean, we all talked, and are in complete agreement. We just want you to hear us out….”

  He hemmed and hawed over what to say next, and my nerves were just starting to get the best of me when Declan’s voice sounded above everything else.

  “We want you to be our manager.”

  If this had been a cartoon, a semi attempting to screech to a halt would’ve smacked right into me. Of course, this wasn’t a cartoon, but despite that, I still felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “You want me to what?”

  Mason’s hands came up in a placating gesture. “Just hear us out.”

  “Not sure if you heard,” Kill started, taking up for Mace, “but we fired Chris. Turns out—”

  “That he’s a rat bastard? Yeah, I already knew that. I couldn’t stand the asshole.”

  “Wait. What?” Killian asked. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to tell them I’d despised their longtime manager since the very beginning, and unsure if it even mattered anymore. “I told Declan I had a bad feeling about the guy, but it was just that, a feeling. I didn’t have any definitive proof to show you. I mean, he was
making your dreams come true. Who was I to get in the way of that?”

  “You were our girl,” Garrett answered on a growl. “You should’ve told us.”

  “Told you what?” I asked, throwing my arms in the air. “That the guy was a creep because he kept insulting me in an attempt to get me to leave Declan? You were finally breaking out. The band was making a name for itself. I wasn’t going to—” I stopped talking when, for the second time in a handful of minutes, the air in the room changed. Only that time the shift was downright scary.

  “He did what?” Declan growled.

  Uh-oh. “I…. What?”

  “He. Did. What?” he repeated, slower and even more ominously. “He tried to get you to leave me?”

  I was on very dangerous ground. Made of ice. That was currently cracking beneath my feet. Turning my attention to Declan for the first time since entering the room, I was forced to suck in a deep breath as soon as my eyes hit his. With all the years and animosity between us, simply looking at him still took my breath away. It wasn’t fair. It was cruel how my body still trembled and my heart still jumped.

  Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I said, “Well, it’s not like he bought me a plane ticket or anything like that. He just… said stuff.”

  “Stuff like what?”

  Cam’s heat hit my back as he moved closer, letting me know he was there, on my side if anything was to go down.

  “Like how I wasn’t good enough for you,” I said in a sad, quiet voice. “How I was standing in your way. How you’d eventually get tired of me.”

  His corded neck strained as he tensed, the muscle in his jaw ticking at a frightening pace.

  “Now I’m even more glad I broke that asshole’s nose.”

  At that, my head jerked to Gwen. “You broke his nose?”

  “Yeah,” she declared venomously. “And I wish I could do it again.”

  But Declan wasn’t to be deterred. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he barked, causing me to jump in place.

  Everyone else in the room might as well have melted away as Declan and I went into a stare-down. “Because! You guys were already working so hard. You finally had your big break, and I wasn’t going to cloud that with stupid, petty shit.”

  “Petty shit? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? How is telling your boyfriend some asshole’s screwing with your head petty shit? Christ, Tate, is that why you left—?”

  “Don’t,” I clipped. “You know exactly why I left, and it had nothing to do with Chris. That was all on you, Declan. It was your fault.”

  “You didn’t let me make it right!” he shouted. “You broke your promise and didn’t even give me a goddamn chance to fix us!”

  “That’s because there was nothing to fix!” I yelled back. “You can’t fix something like that, Deck. You can’t fix someone’s trust and heart after you’ve broken them. I left because there was nothing to stay for. You made sure of that!”

  The fury rushed out of him, replaced with a stricken expression, as if I’d just plunged a knife into his heart.

  Closing my eyes and rubbing at my temples, I turned away from Declan to face everyone else. “I’m sorry. I know you hoped that this meeting would turn out different, but I can’t be your manager. And it’s not just because of the past. I don’t know the first thing about managing a band,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Honestly, I don’t even know why you’d want me.”

  “Of course you do,” Mason argued. “Hell, what about all those shows right out of high school? That was all you, babe. Each and every gig was because of you.”

  “Please,” I scoffed. “Those places were total dives. They aren’t even worth thinking about.”

  “Are you kidding?” Killian chuckled. “Tate. We made it because of you. Those places might have been shitholes, but that’s how every band gets its start. Besides, you might’ve left us, but you didn’t leave the industry. At least not completely,” he finished, lifting his hand in Cam’s direction. “I’d be willing to lay money that your network’s a lot fuckin’ bigger than it was back then.”

  “Camden’s just a friend—”

  “He’s got a point, babycakes,” my traitorous best friend interrupted. “Hell, it’s because of you that I’m not living in a van down by the river at this very moment.”

  I shot Cam a killing look that promised serious retribution. Visions of pouring hot wax over him and ripping each and every hair from his body filtered through my brain.

  “See?” Garrett said. “And don’t think we don’t know about all the work you did on his album.”

  “I barely did anything!” I cried. “I helped with a few songs. That’s all!”

  “A few songs on an album that went triple platinum,” Garrett deadpanned. “Just like what you did for us. You think ‘Crimson’ would’ve dominated the charts the way it did if it hadn’t been for you?” he asked.

  Bringing up that song was a shot below the belt. I still remembered everything about writing it. How Declan and I laid together in his crappy old truck after making love, whispering lyrics to each other. My eyes began to burn as the memory pushed its way to the forefront of my mind.

  “You wrote that?” Gwen squeaked. “Girl, that’s my best friend’s all-time favorite song! Just wait until I tell her. Corrie’s gonna lose her mind!”

  “I didn’t write it,” I argued, turning to Declan for help.

  “Don’t look at me.” The asshole actually had the nerve to smirk. “No way in fuck I’d have been able to finish that song without your help. You wrote half the damn verses.”

  “We need you, Tater tot,” Mace said, using Will’s nickname for me, a name all the guys used on more than one occasion.

  I turned my glower toward him, but it didn’t hold nearly as much of the anger it had before. “That’s not fair,” I whispered.

  “We’re not above playing dirty,” he responded with a shrug. “We all want you back. We’ve missed you like crazy, babe. It’s time for you to come back to your family.”

  My head dropped in defeat because I knew, I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to them. And they damn well knew it too, which was why they’d staged this so-called meeting the way they had.

  “You guys are such jerks,” I grumbled.

  “Hell yeah!” Garrett cheered, throwing a fist in the air. “Welcome back into the fold, sweetheart!”

  Then he scooped me up in his big arms and twirled me around until my stomach began to protest.

  “If it helps, I pretty much hate all of them every other day,” Gwen added. “It’ll be nice to have someone to commiserate with.”

  Something told me there was going to be a lot of commiserating in the very near future.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Declan

  A week and a half later

  Fuck my life.

  I just couldn’t quit screwing up no matter how goddamn hard I tried. My life was one huge bad decision after another, and I couldn’t seem to break the cycle.

  My cell phone chose that moment to ring, yanking me from my self-flagellation.

  Without bothering to take my eyes off the bland beige ceiling of the hotel room, I reached down, patting around on the floor for my jeans. Once located, I pulled the phone from the back pocket, and engaged the call.

  “Yeah.”

  “Mr. Forrester?”

  “You got him. Who’s this?”

  “Mr. Forrester, this is Jill Eisenhower.” At the sound of the real estate agent’s name, I instantly perked up. “I’m calling in regards to the condo you inquired about. The owners have accepted your offer.”

  Of course they did. I’d offered the couple living in that place twenty percent over what they’d paid. They’d have been stupid to turn it down, even if they hadn’t been in the market to sell when I had my agent contact them about buying their apartment. That amount of money would’ve incentivized anyone to pack up their lives and move to some five-star tropical resort.

  I found myself gr
inning in spite of my shitty mood. “Perfect. I expect the paperwork to be drawn up as soon as possible. I want to move no later than Wednesday.”

  “Mr. Forrester, that’s only two days away. Closing’s usually—”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Make it happen. I’m moving in two days.”

  “But we haven’t even listed your current house yet.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I advised. “I’m not concerned with selling it right now. Two days, Jill. Make it happen.”

  I disconnected the call and tossed the cell onto the mattress beside me just as the bathroom door creaked open.

  “Who were you talking to?”

  Lifting my head off the pillow, I glanced at my latest mistake, a chick whose name I couldn’t even remember. I’d picked her up at a bar the night before after having way too much to drink and throwing myself a pity party over Tatum, and brought her to the hotel I typically used for my hookups. I refused to go to a woman’s house to get laid, and no way in hell was I bringing a groupie back to mine, so the hotel was my only option when I wanted to get my dick wet.

  She placed her knee on the mattress and started crawling, naked as the day she was born, in my direction.

  “None of your concern.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, I laid back down and said, “Playtime’s over, sweet cheeks. Time for you to go.”

  Her hand landed on my thigh and started trailing its way toward my cock. The damn thing didn’t even twitch. “I thought we could go for a second round,” she said seductively.

  The woman had been one of the most boring, frigid lays I’d ever had, so damn lifeless I thought I’d been fucking a corpse. Going for a second round was out of the goddamn question.

  “Pass. But if you leave your number, I’ll be sure to call.” I definitely wouldn’t call.

  I felt her stop, and seconds later she asked hesitantly, “What? Why?”

  It took an unbelievable amount of effort not to roll my eyes. I should’ve known the bitch would turn into a clinger the second she got herself some rock star dick. “Because I’m done with you. Now get out.”