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

by Julie Archer

  As I pushed the door open, I’d almost convinced myself.

  The corridor was silent. I could barely hear the low drone coming from the main bar area, the only sound coming from my heels as I tapped along the passageway.

  “Did you get my message?”

  Standing in an alcove, cigarette smoke pluming around him, was Carl.

  My feet were glued to the spot and I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

  All I could feel was my world crashing in around me.

  He stepped into my path, effectively blocking my route back to the safety of the main bar.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I clutched my bag to my chest, ice shooting through my veins.

  “I thought that was pretty obvious, sweetheart.” His crooked grin made my skin crawl. “I’ve got a few friends in the area who suggested I come up and visit. And look who happened to be here at the same time. I’m thinking karma, are you?”

  “I think you’re a fucking leech,” I hissed, trying to sound braver than I felt. “You plied me with drugs and left me. If it hadn’t been for Tris and Darren…” My voice trailed off as I contemplated the consequences of what could have happened if Carl hadn’t done a runner from the room at that party when he did.

  Carl’s hand went to his nose. “Think your boyfriend did some serious damage to me. I doubt he’d want the same thing to happen to you, would he?” He took a step towards me and I moved backwards at the same time.

  Silently, I willed the two women who had come into the bathroom to leave and find me, to scare Carl off. But no matter how much I wished for it to happen, it didn’t. I wondered if there had been another exit, meaning they didn’t come back into this part of the club. Shit, I should have checked.

  Carl came closer, his breath reaching my face. “So, what are we going to do? It’s easy enough for you to make this all go away. Twenty grand should do it.”

  I almost laughed. “How much money do you think we make off a tour like this? Scott and Trash Gun are the draw, we’re making up the numbers. It’s not like we’re Guns ’n’ Roses on a comeback tour.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Then I guess you’ll have to find it from somewhere else.” He reached out and ran a hand down my arm and I flinched away from him. “Maybe sell some of your…” Carl didn’t finish his sentence, as Tris’ voice floated along the corridor.

  “Saff! What’s taking you so long?”

  I let out a relieved sigh.

  “Well, well, this is a nice surprise,” said Carl as Tris approached us.

  A look of uncertainty clouded Tris’ expression, which soon changed to one of recognition as he clocked Carl.

  “What’s going on?” He looked between me and Carl, eyes dark, suspicious.

  “Reacquainting myself with your lovely girlfriend. Seeing if there was anything she needed. You know, after last time.” Carl gave a harsh cackle.

  Glancing down at Tris’ hands, I saw him ball them into fists. “We should walk away, he’s not worth it, Tris.” My voice was low, but not enough for Carl not to hear.

  “Not worth it, huh? It’s not what you were saying when you were practically begging me for smack. Not to mention how much you wanted me. It was such a shame I didn’t get the opportunity to shag you. I bet you’re filthy in bed.”

  Carl barely had time to breathe before Tris pounced on him, the first to throw a punch. It was a heavy blow and I swear I heard a bone crunch. Had Tris broken Carl’s nose again? I had never seen him this angry. It almost scared me, even though I knew he was only doing it to protect me.

  They fought and tussled, each of them throwing punches. The noises of fist against bone jarred through me. I was rooted to the spot, not able to speak as Tris drove his fists relentlessly into Carl’s body. Carl retaliated, getting a few weak shots in around Tris’ ribs, before catching him unawares with a crunching right hook to his jaw. Tris stumbled clawing at the wall for balance, but fell, landing awkwardly on the ground. Carl loomed over him, raining sloppy punches as Tris cowered away. Then, as I thought he’d given up, he twisted and hooked a leg around Carl’s ankles, causing him to topple with a heavy thud. Before I knew it, they were wrestling, each of them trying to get the upper hand. As Carl’s fist made contact with Tris’ right eye socket, I suddenly found my voice and screamed.

  I hollered as loudly as I could to catch people’s attention, to get help.

  The corridor, which moments ago had been so quiet and empty suddenly buzzed with at least half a dozen bodies, all trying to pull the two men away from each other. Tris struggled to get out of the grasp of the two security guards restraining him, aiming a kick in Carl’s direction where he could. I tried to get closer to him, to say thank you, to get him away from this place. But in the confusion, I saw two police officers appear and speak to another man, who I guessed was either the manager or at least some person in authority. They spoke in hushed tones and I struggled to hear what they were saying.

  Before I knew what was happening, Tris had been handcuffed and was being led out of the bar.

  “No!” I screamed after them. “You can’t arrest him; it wasn’t his fault!” I tried to follow them, but one of the security guards stopped me.

  Carl was also escorted out, blood seeping from a cut lip. “He’s going to pay for this, bitch. I’m not going to let it happen again.”

  My legs gave out from under me and I collapsed on the floor, tears streaming down my face. What the hell had just happened?

  22

  Tris

  “Saff! Saff!” I twisted and tried to yank myself out of the grasp of the police officer who had a vice-like grip on my upper arm. Pain shot down my ribs and I cried out.

  Being dragged through the main body of the club like some kind of animal was humiliating. I could feel the stares of the assembled crowd on me, judging me, deciding I was guilty without knowing any of the facts.

  Darren tried to grab me as I went past him. “Tris? What the fuck’s happened? Where are they taking you?”

  I swivelled my head around. “Make sure Saff is okay. Look after her, Darren, please? She’s going to need you.”

  When we were outside, the officer bundled me into the back of a police car. As we waited to leave, I saw Carl come out. His face was a mess.

  I’d done that.

  Not one part of me regretted it. The way he’d been talking to Saff… how he’d insinuated she wanted him… wanted the drugs he’d plied her with.

  He deserved everything he got.

  Did it mean I did too? I was protecting the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

  Surely they would be able to see that.

  Sometime later, waiting to be questioned, I sat on the edge of the bed in the cell watching as the whitewashed walls started to close in on me.

  I couldn’t believe it was happening again.

  Less than three months ago, I’d been sitting in a very similar place, vowing to make a fresh start, promising myself I’d never end up there again.

  My head dropped and I stared at the floor, trying to focus.

  Surely Carl couldn’t press charges. He was just as guilty as I was. I took a deep breath and winced; proof he had hurt me.

  Saff’s statement would prove it, I was sure of it.

  The sound of the door being unlocked made me jerk my head up.

  “We’re ready to question you now.” The uniformed officer stood in the doorway and beckoned me towards him.

  With great effort, I stood up, my body aching. My ribs were killing me, but I wasn’t about to admit it to anyone. I hadn’t seen the state of my face, but judging by the discomfort I felt when I ran my fingers over the skin, I had some fairly colourful bruises developing.

  There was a low rumble of noise in the custody suite, as well as a few shouts from adjoining cells; all sounds I’d got used to during my three months in prison. I swallowed hard as I followed the officer towards the interview rooms.

  A duty solicitor was already there
along with, I assumed, a plain clothes detective, bringing back unwanted memories of last time. The solicitor nodded at me and I inclined my chin in acknowledgement as I sat down beside her.

  I placed my hands, palms down on the edge of the table, trying to breathe evenly. I had to keep it together.

  The detective started by turning on the recorder. “We want to talk to you about the assault on Carl Doherty this evening,” he asked. “You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence, if you do not mention when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Can you talk me through the events leading up to it?”

  I closed my eyes, the horrible familiarity of the words jarring in my brain. Memories of earlier in the evening involved Saff, make-up sex and revelling in her body. Happier times. Scott Lincoln flashed through my thoughts, how he’d come on to Saff, and my mood darkened.

  As accurately as I could, I explained the evening, starting with arriving at the club, talking him through the gig and what went on afterwards.

  “Saff had been gone for ages, and I started to get worried about her.”

  “You say she’d been to the bathroom?”

  “Yes. We were going to go back to the hotel. She wanted to sort herself out before we went.”

  “And you’re aware of her drug taking, I’m assume?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Had they already spoken to Carl? Had he said she agreed to meet him to get more drugs? Was he twisting things to put the blame on me for starting the fight?

  “We understand that’s how she knew Carl.” The officer scribbled something in his notebook without looking up at me.

  “Yes. I know she’s taken drugs before.” Shit, was I about to get Saff into trouble too?

  The scribbling continued. “Okay, so can you take me through night one more time? Right from when you arrived?”

  Confused, I glanced over at the duty solicitor who nodded encouragingly. She too appeared to have copious notes on her pad from the interview. I hoped she wasn’t coming to the same conclusions the detective appeared to be. I went over it once again, trying to be as accurate as I could. It was clear to me who the victim was. It wasn’t Carl, no matter how much he might have tried to make out otherwise.

  After I’d finished, the detective made me go through the night another two times. I sensed he was trying to find any inconsistencies in my statement. Finally, he seemed satisfied.

  “Will you be speaking to Saff?”

  “Miss Barnes? Yes, of course. Apart from you and Mr Doherty, she’s the only person who can tell us what happened.”

  I hated the fact she’d have to go through this. To be cross-examined. To be asked time and time again to confirm what went on.

  “You’ll stay here tonight until we’ve had the opportunity to speak to everyone involved. Do you understand?”

  Mechanically, I nodded. It was late. I didn’t know where Saff was, whether she’d get spoken to tonight or in the morning. Unfortunately, I understood all too well.

  “We can talk again in the morning,” said the duty solicitor. “And if you need me to call anyone, I can arrange it.” She extended her hand. I shook it, not feeling at all confident in her limp handshake.

  Almost in a daze, I followed the detective back through the custody suite, pausing in the open door of the cell I’d been allocated. I stepped inside, flinching as the door slammed shut behind me.

  Although I was dog tired, I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I dragged my broken body towards the bed and curled up, nursing my injuries.

  In spite of everything, all that had happened, I thought how Saff was absolutely worth it.

  Every. Fucking. Bruise.

  23

  Saff

  Strong arms enveloped me, catching me as I fell.

  But they weren’t Tris’ arms.

  Darren stroked my hair, making soothing noises as I broke down. Tears streamed down my face as I watched helplessly while they took Tris away. Barney and Tommo joined us, standing in front of us, effectively shielding me from any prying eyes.

  “What happened?” asked Barney, concern radiating from his eyes.

  “Carl…blackmail…Tris…” I choked, barely making any sense.

  I felt Darren’s body tense. “Why was Carl here?”

  Taking a deep breath, I composed myself, dragging a hand over my face, trying to wipe the tears away. “He wanted money.”

  “For what?” Darren’s brows knotted together.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “To stop him selling pictures of me taking heroin. He’s been sending me messages, making threats, then tonight he turned up here, demanding the cash we’d made from the tour.”

  Bile rose in my throat as I told the truth at last. Keeping it from my band mates had been a mistake. I knew that now. After all, they had been there the night it happened, Darren in particular had been part of the rescue party.

  “I’ll kill the cheeky little fucker,” hissed Darren.

  I didn’t want to tell him I thought that’s what Tris had been trying to do.

  “How long’s he been doing that for?” demanded Tommo. “Christ, I’m so sorry you ever met him.” He turned away.

  “It’s not your fault.” I reached up a hand to him. “You didn’t know what he was going to do.”

  “But if he hadn’t been at my party, you wouldn’t have met him.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I reiterated.

  If there was any blame to lay, it would be squarely at my door. If I hadn’t blocked Tris out of my life when he’d admitted to being in prison, if I hadn’t have gone to the party, if I hadn’t been so confused and angry… or needed to abuse substances to block out how I was feeling. I screwed up my eyes.

  One of the bar staff appeared with a glass of water and I gladly accepted it, gulping it down, trying to settle my stomach.

  “Um, we thought it best we close up now, so if you’re ready, could you go?” Her eyes darted between us, looking embarrassed to tell us to leave.

  “Saff?” The guys all turned to me.

  I knew she was only doing her job. It wasn’t every day there was a ruckus at The Matchbox, I was sure. She could have given me a little more time though. With great effort, I pulled myself up, still unsteady on my heels. I wished I’d had the sense to bring some Converse to change into after the gig.

  “Sure, I imagine you have a lot of clearing up to do.” I thought of the blood which had been spilled in the corridor and shuddered.

  She smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Instantly, I knew she wanted to be rid of us. I glanced towards the bar, where Scott and the rest of his band still appeared to be drinking and partying. Catching me watching him, Scott raised his glass and gave me a broad grin. My mouth curled into a sneer. I needed to get out of there.

  “Let’s go.” I held my head high and stalked out of the club without another word to anyone.

  Once outside, the fresh air hit me, and I just made it to a nearby doorway when the contents of my stomach reappeared. Darren stroked my back as I retched, making soothing noises.

  As I straightened up and wiped my mouth, I noticed there were a few people milling around outside, smoking or waiting for taxis. Some of them nudged each other and gestured in our direction, whispering. Darren tried to shield me from their prying eyes.

  The last thing I wanted was people gossiping about me, again.

  I turned to Darren. “I want to go to the police station. I want to see Tris.”

  He looked nervously between me, Barney and Tommo. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, won’t Carl be there too?”

  “They’ll need to speak to me about what happened though, won’t they?”

  “I guess. But won’t they contact you when they need to?”

  I didn’t know. I didn’t know how any of this worked. All I knew was my boyfriend had been arrested and I wanted to see him.

&n
bsp; “Why don’t we go back to your hotel?”

  “No.” I didn’t want to go back to the place where Tris and I had had fantastic make-up sex without him.

  Darren sighed. “Okay, come back to ours then.”

  There seemed little point in arguing. None of us knew what was going to happen next or when.

  I shrugged. Sitting around some budget chain hotel had to be better than standing in the middle of the street. When we got there, I let Barney and Tommo off the hook, telling them to go to bed and get some rest.

  “Do you want a drink?” Darren asked while we waited for the lift.

  I glared at him, my eyes wide. “Are you kidding? My boyfriend has just been arrested!”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Thought you might need to, you know, treat the shock?”

  Maybe he had a point. A small whisky or two might do the trick.

  Ten minutes later we were in his room.

  I kicked off my shoes and plonked myself in the middle of the bed, while Darren poured my drink. I reached into my bag for my phone. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing. Not even from Jonas.

  Jonas.

  He’d know what to do. He’d be able to help.

  Not wanting to waste another moment, I dialled his number.

  “Saff? What time is it?”

  “Did I wake you?” My voice cracked as the tears began again.

  “Are you okay?”

  Hearing Jonas’ concern made me cry harder. “Tris has been arrested.” I managed to get the words out before I started sobbing.

  It sounded like Jonas covered the mouthpiece and was talking to someone first before he came back to me.

  “You’ve got my full attention now. Tell me what happened.”

  Between fresh bouts of crying, the whole story came out, including how Carl had been blackmailing me, making threats and demands, culminating in him coming to the gig. I downplayed the extent of the fight, making it sound less than it was. I didn’t want Jonas to think Tris was a lost cause, better off in jail, before I’d told him everything.