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The Rocks Duet: Fake Rocks & Real Rocks (a fake relationship rockstar romance)

Page 15

by Julie Archer


  Louis looked between Jonas and Tris. “Contract?” He let out a harsh laugh. “I knew you couldn’t get a bird like this on your own. But being paid for it? And as for you.” His gaze slipped to me. The laughter dissipated and his tone turned dark. “How could you manipulate someone like this?”

  The nauseous feeling increased. Despite everything, he was right.

  We had paid Tris for our - my - own gain. To make me look better to the outside world, not caring about the people we might hurt in the process.

  But I couldn’t get over Tris’ violent side. It didn’t fit with the personality he’d shown me, the Tris I’d grown close to over the past couple of weeks, the Tris I had allowed to fuck me into oblivion a few nights ago, the Tris I thought I was falling in love with. Turned out he was nothing more than a vicious thug.

  I swiped a tear away. I was determined not to break down. Not in front of those two. I couldn’t.

  Taking a deep breath, I summoned up something from my reserves. “Get away from me, Tris. I never want to see you again.”

  And I turned, my dress coat billowing out behind me with a flourish and stalked away to the ladies, ignoring Tris calling after me.

  I didn’t want any of them to see me crying.

  30

  Tris

  “Saff! Saff, please, let me explain.”

  My pleas fell on deaf ears as I watched her retreating back. I started to follow her, but Jonas blocked my path.

  “I think you need to leave her alone, Tris. Let her come to terms with what’s come out.” Jonas reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet. “In fact, I think you need to give us all some space.” He thrust a fistful of notes at me. “It’s not a good idea for you to be at the house right now. I think you should stay away until we know what’s happening. I’ll talk to your uncle in the morning.”

  “Can I at least say goodbye?” I begged.

  “I’ll pass it on.”

  Instantly, I knew he wouldn’t say a word to her. Without another word, he headed off to find Saff.

  My dad reached over and flicked the wad of money. “Nice work, son. Let’s go and get a beer.”

  I rounded on him. “As if I want to go anywhere with you right now. It’s your fault this has happened.” My face contorted into a sneer.

  He cast a glance in the direction Jonas and Saff had gone in. “Might be best if we get out of here though. I don’t want any more trouble.”

  Reluctantly, I agreed and followed him outside. Across the road was a spit and sawdust pub, which still appeared to be open. It wasn’t busy, although I recognised a few of the crowd from the gig. I hoped the two guys I’d almost had the altercation with weren’t in there. Dad was right, I didn’t need any more trouble.

  I was surprised when he stuck his hand in his pocket and paid for our two beers, before taking them to a table near the back.

  We sat down opposite each other and I drained almost half my pint in one go. I needed it.

  “I haven’t seen you in months,” I began. “I came out of prison and you’d gone, not even left a new address.”

  My dad sipped his beer with more delicacy than I had. “Donna didn’t particularly like it up there. We came back to Essex almost four months ago.”

  The news came like a punch in the gut. I’d barely been in prison for five minutes and he’d upped and left. No wonder I hadn’t seen him the whole time I’d been in there. I didn’t particularly like Donna either. She’d seen Dad as a meal ticket, expected him to work and pay for everything. I was grateful she didn’t have children—or at least none I knew about.

  “How did you find out where I was?” The morbid curiosity in me had to know. I needed to understand what he was doing there now, why he was suddenly interested in my life again. When at the time I’d needed him the most, he was nowhere to be seen.

  “I still talk to Annie occasionally. She said you and Col were doing well. Then Donna recognised your picture on some Daily Mail story.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s obsessed with celebrity gossip.”

  I didn’t realise he had a relationship with Aunt Annie. Given her thoughts on the whole situation with Saff, I wouldn’t have put it past her to share some not-so-glowing thoughts with him.

  “How the hell did my son end up in the gossip columns anyway?” He reached over and playfully punched me on the arm.

  Grudgingly, I gave him a potted history of what had happened the past few weeks. I admitted to the fake relationship contract and touched on the fact Saff and I had blurred the lines between what was fake and what was real.

  And what was now, more than likely, over.

  What I didn’t expect was his reaction. At a least a little sympathy for how things had worked out would have been nice. Instead there was a coldness with which he greeted my admissions.

  “Don’t know what you’re doing mixing with people like that, Tris. They’ll only screw you over.” He finished his beer. “Should stick to the good guys, ones like us. True friends who’ve got your back.”

  I almost choked. “Friends who’ve got your back?” I repeated. “What, like blood relatives who do a runner with their cheap, tacky girlfriend at the first sign of hardship? Where the fuck were you when I got sent down? Were you there supporting me through possibly the worst experience of my life? No, you’d scarpered with Donna.” The anger I’d kept in check for the majority of the evening, since the first run in with the other guys, came bubbling to the surface. “How’s any of that having my back? Being there for your own son?” I spat the last word at him, spittle landing on his cheek.

  He swiped it away with the back of his hand. “Don’t speak about Donna like that. She needed me.”

  “I needed you.”

  “Look, son…”

  “Don’t you dare call me your son. You don’t care about me.”

  He winced. “Look, Tris, if you need somewhere to stay now, you can always come and doss down with us for a few days, until you get yourself sorted. The cash whatshisname gave you ought to see you right.”

  All of a sudden it clicked. I knew exactly what he was doing there, and it had absolutely nothing to do with me and his sense of parenthood. The moment he knew I was doing well for myself, with someone like Saff, all he could see were the pound signs. Money was all he’d ever cared about. Not me. Not mum.

  “I don’t need anything from you.”

  “Tris, what would your mother say?”

  “She’d probably be proud of me for finally seeing you for who you are. A money grabbing, disloyal douchebag. Everything you were to her.” I pushed my chair back with such force it clattered on the floor. “I never want to see you again.”

  Without another word I stalked straight out the door, not looking back.

  Once outside, I realised it might not have been the best of ideas. I had no way of getting back to Uncle Col’s, unless I wanted a very expensive taxi ride and going back to Saff’s wasn’t an option.

  Walking along the street, it wasn’t long before I found a cheap budget chain hotel with vacancies, right next door to a twenty-four-hour convenience store. I went into the latter first and marched up to the counter, purchasing a bottle of whisky without a flicker of disapproval from the cashier. I figured she was used to it. I received a similar level of apathy from the receptionist who readily took my money for a room.

  Once inside, I switched on the lamp, placed the bottle on the bedside table and stripped down to my boxers. I turned on the TV finding some late night rubbish reality show to watch as I drowned my sorrows, one swig at a time.

  The enormity of the evening’s events hit me. The earlier, happy memories of Saff writing and singing a song about me, mixed in with the anger I’d felt protecting her which had increased at the sight of my father. And bitterness at how he’d ruined everything for me.

  I took a huge swig of the drink, grimacing as the amber liquid burned a path down my throat. It wasn’t long before I wasn’t feeling any pain, it had been masked by the alcohol.

&
nbsp; I reached for my phone.

  No new messages.

  Nothing from Saff.

  Against my better judgement, I started to write to her.

  Saff, I’m so sorry for this evening. For everything. Can we at least talk about it? xx

  I got the read receipt almost immediately, staring at the screen until I saw she was typing something back.

  It was going to be okay.

  We were going to be okay.

  Don’t contact me again, Tris. Jonas will be in touch to terminate the contract. We’re done.

  Bile rose in my throat and I leaped off the bed, only just making it to the bathroom in time before the contents of my stomach reappeared. I sank down onto the cool tile of the floor and rested my head on the toilet bowl.

  I was fucked.

  31

  Saff

  I rolled over in bed and reached for Tris. Force of habit, I guess, until I realised.

  He wasn’t there.

  He would never be there again.

  He lied to me.

  Given our whole relationship was really built on the basis of a lie, I supposed it was rather hypocritical of me.

  My head ached, from the amount of alcohol I’d consumed last night upon returning home and from the whole situation. I spent most of the night in floods of tears, alternating between hating his guts and hurting from his deception, to wanting to forgive him and find out what exactly had happened.

  Automatically, I reached for my phone, seeing a raft of messages from Tris following the curt missive I’d sent him the previous evening. I deleted them without even reading them. I couldn’t handle it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  I dragged my body out of bed and grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie, before heading downstairs.

  The door to Jonas’ office was open and I could hear voices, one of which was Col’s. I froze, looking around the kitchen to check for any sign of Tris.

  “I’m not sure I’m happy about you finishing the work,” Jonas was saying. “We asked if there was anything we needed to know about before you signed up to this contract and you failed to disclose something potentially damaging to Saff’s reputation.”

  I winced. I could damage my reputation perfectly well on my own, I didn’t need anyone’s help. Although Tris had fixed that. He’d gone some way to fixing me as well, taming me, if you will. It wasn’t fair on his uncle to lose out on something which hadn’t really been his fault in the first place. I felt I had to intervene.

  “Jonas, wait,” I said as I went into the office.

  My suspicions were confirmed as I saw Col’s face. He was pale, his eyes tired and I wanted to know if he’d seen Tris. Or did I? I was pretty sure I never wanted to see that liar again.

  “Saff, it’s fine, I’ve got this.” Jonas held up his hand. “When was the last time you ate? Why don’t you go and get some breakfast?”

  “I don’t want breakfast.” I crossed my arms around my body, trying to warm up. “I don’t want you to do anything hasty.”

  Jonas glared at me. “The omission of a criminal record is fairly shady.”

  “But it’s not Col’s record, is it? It’s Tris’. He’s the bad guy in this.”

  Col hung his head. “I may have said he shouldn’t bring it up.”

  “There!” crowed Jonas. “They were in it together to get the money from us.”

  In my heart, I sensed it wasn’t true. Col seemed genuine, hard-working, supportive. All the things I thought Tris was.

  “Mr Barnes,” began Col. “When I got the job here with you, I had no idea who Saff was or who you were really. I thought I’d got lucky with a fantastic job in a great part of London and if I did good, you’d give me some similar contacts who I could do the same for. Honestly, I had no intentions of ripping you off.” He paused, tilting his head to one side. “Or that you’d use my nephew for your own gain.”

  He was absolutely right. We’d used him. Not the other way around.

  The thumping in my head increased as I looked to Jonas for support, for what to say next.

  Jonas drummed his fingers on the desk. I could almost hear the wheels of his brain whirring as he thought about his next move. “I guess it would be difficult to get someone in at short notice to finish the work you’ve started,” he began. “Although there is one condition of you finishing this.”

  He looked at me and I immediately knew what he was about to insist on.

  Col visibly relaxed. “Of course; name it and you’ve got it.”

  “Tris is not to set foot into this house again. He’s done enough damage.” Jonas glanced over towards me. “Is that okay with you?”

  I nodded my approval. It was the right thing to do.

  Later that night, I was bored. I still couldn’t stop thinking about Tris and I desperately needed a distraction. I’d spent the whole day lounging in bed, barely moving, obsessively checking social media and my messages, both of which were strangely quiet.

  I picked up my phone and called Rosie.

  “Saff! Where the hell are you? There’s a party here for you, babe! I heard you and Tris split.”

  Her words made me sit up, ramrod straight. How did she know? I hadn’t spoken to her at all since it happened. I could hear the noise of a bar or club in the background.

  “Where are you? I’ll come join.”

  “You should. The Goss will love it.” She gave me the name of a bar on the King’s Road. “Text me when you’re close.” And she hung up.

  Interest piqued, I fired up an internet browser on my phone and went to the gossip website. Sure enough, there were a number of pictures of me and the band performing.

  Fuck, I looked hot last night.

  But there were also a few dark, grainy photographs of the aftermath of last night’s gig. There was no mistaking Tris’ actions as he pulled an arm back in preparation to punch. There was also one of him and his dad, apparently engaged in an angry conversation.

  The accompanying words were no more than guesswork and speculation, though the headline screamed: SAFF’S NEW BEAU NOT AS CLEAN CUT AS HE SEEMS! ANGRY SCENES AT THESB’S COMEBACK SHOW!

  Near the end of the article was a shot of me and Jonas leaving, as well as one of Tris, alone, looking forlornly towards our car.

  Tears threatened to fall, and I screwed up my face, willing them to go away. I couldn’t afford to think about that now. Taking a fortifying breath, I stood up and went to my wardrobe, searching for the exact killer outfit I needed.

  Forty minutes later, I was in an Uber near the bar. At the last minute, I almost chickened out and asked the driver to take me home, but Rosie was right. I needed to be there. I needed something to take my mind off last night. Wallowing at home with a bottle of whisky and a joint wasn’t the Saff Barnes everyone knew and loved.

  I resolved to be the Saff Barnes who didn’t give a fuck, but desperately needed to fuck a certain someone out of my system.

  I held my head high and stepped out of the car, heading for the door and cutting to the front of the queue. The doorman took one look at me and instantly let me through.

  Even if he had no idea who I was, the outfit I’d picked was enough to flout every door policy he had to adhere to. I wore a tight, black lace and satin corset which pushed my boobs up, creating a cleavage to die for. Teamed with a skin-tight black pencil miniskirt which barely covered my arse and skyscraper red patent heels, I looked like a force to be reckoned with. It was a look that made me feel in control, fierce, untouchable.

  “Fuck me, Saff, that’s one hell of a break-up outfit.” Rosie reached out and touched the locked padlock heart attached to the ring on my collar. “No-one’s getting to your heart.” She gave me a brief hug, then handed me a glass with orange liquid in it. “Seems an appropriate drink for the way you’re dressed tonight.”

  I downed the Pornstar Martini in one and threw off my coat. “Get me another, I want to get wasted.”

  Rosie did as she was asked, but I wasn’t short of people—sorry, men
—wanting to buy me drinks. I revelled in the attention, accepting every glass and every kiss, knowing it was everything Jonas didn’t want me to do. It helped me to forget about Tris.

  “Long time no see.” A male body pressed up behind me, running a proprietary hand over my arse, fingertips grazing the skin beneath the hem of my skirt.

  I whirled around, ready to slap the face of someone who had dared to touch me in that manner.

  Troy Carson.

  The corner of my mouth quirked. “Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”

  “Out with your boyfriend.” He smirked.

  Infuriated, I reached up as if to slap his face, but he caught my wrist.

  “Ooo, touchy.” In one move, he had me pinned against the wall, his muscular body pressed along mine.

  My breathing deepened, an involuntary reaction sparked in my groin.

  His fingers slid over the gold heart, his gaze sliding to my lips. “Pretty.” He hooked his index finger into the ring and pulled me towards him.

  Unable to resist, our lips crashed together, the kiss hard, insistent, dirty. When his hand drifted underneath my skirt, I hooked a leg around him, feeling his cock hard on my thigh.

  Drunk and horny, I wasn’t aware of the flash of a camera phone as it went off to our right.

  32

  Tris

  Running errands with Aunt Annie was the one thing I was allowed to do after the fallout from Tuesday night’s gig. After a frankly horrible night at the hotel where the contents of the whisky bottle disappeared then reappeared, I made my way home the following morning feeling like death. Thankfully, there was no-one in so I could crawl into my bed and hide out there until early Thursday morning before having to speak to anyone.

  “Come on, Tris, get up, I want to get to the supermarket before lunch.” Aunt Annie barrelled into my bedroom and threw the curtains open. “And can you get a shower? It smells like a brewery in here.”

 

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