Breach of Contract: A Rocker Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 2)

by Laramie Briscoe

  The cop reaches out, grabbing hold of my shoulder. “Right now isn’t the time for you to be asking the questions. We’re asking them.”

  When he takes my license and registration, I know this is going to be a long ass night.

  Well, this is one thing my dad never did as an adult, I think as the bars close in front of my face.

  Jail.

  One place I swore I would never be. But here I am, doing the same shit everyone said I would do. I’m living up to the rockstar name and feeling like shit doing it.

  “Do you want to make a phone call, or the drunk tank?”

  Since I’ve never been here before, I don’t know if they’re doing me a favor or not. Even if I do call someone, they aren’t going to come and get me.

  “I’ll sober up.”

  “And then you’ll go before the judge. You blew three times the legal limit. What were you doing driving?”

  “Ruining my life,” I blow out, resting my head against the cold metal.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone.”

  As the cop turns around and leaves, I realize how true those words are. Of all the things I’ve fucked up in my life and in all the ways I’ve done so. This right here is the absolute worst.

  “How’s my brother?” I yell out.

  “He’s already going before the judge, Mr. Thompson. I don’t know how he is, but we’re going to keep both of you alone due to your high profiles.”

  “Thanks.” I drop my head against the bars again, wondering how the fuck I’m gonna get out of this jam, and trying to figure out if I even want to.

  Walking over to the bed, I plop on it doing my best not to let tears well up. How badly did I have to throw shit in Bri’s face and was it worth it?

  No, none of this is worth it.

  Chapter Thirty

  Br

  The girl you see in class. The one who doesn’t talk to many people. Who doesn’t smile easily, or participate in group discussions?

  That’s me.

  The one who think has the perfect life. That nothing ever gets to her. Her hair is always done, makeup never out of place, clothes the best money can buy.

  That’s me.

  What you don’t see is the doubt. The staying up all night agonizing about the decisions I make. Replaying situations over and over in my head, wondering how they could have gone differently. Worrying that the person who told me thank you, and I replied ‘you too’, to thinks I’m an idiot.

  That’s me.

  That girl who feels alone, even in a crowd of people?

  That’s me.

  When I was first starting out in this business, the pressure was immense. I was on the road more than I was hope. I slept for maybe four hours a night the first two years. I cried more often than I smiled, and I sold my soul to the devil to make it.

  Those were things that weren’t my decision.

  My mother was holding the strings. The puppet master, if you will. Because of my success, she became used to a certain standard of life, and when that was threatened, she in turn threatened me.

  I’ve never spoken about any of this before, but for the first time in my life, I’m happy.

  There are people around, people you think should be your number one fans, who don’t want you happy. Happy artists don’t write deep songs. It’s what they believe. Every artist has to the feel the darkness.

  Not me.

  Early in my career, I attempted suicide.

  There. I said it, and it’s out in the public eye. Someone was going to take my right to disclose away from me.

  The reasons for me not disclosing before are vast, and have nothing to do with the fact I’m ashamed of what I did. I’m more ashamed that others around me didn’t see what was happening and hold safe space for me.

  I don’t want to dwell on it, because I’ve been at peace.

  I thrive when I’m happy and at peace. Desperately I wanted nothing to harm the person I’ve become.

  But here we are, and there it is.

  Much Love,

  Bri

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Bri

  No phone call after midnight is ever good, unless you’re waiting for it. Tonight I’m not asleep, but I’m definitely not waiting for it. Since Everett left, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about where he may be and what he might be doing.

  Which is stupid, I can easily track him on his phone, but it seems like such an invasion of privacy, especially when we argued so badly before he’d stormed out. If I’d had a girlfriend to call, I would have, but I didn’t want to bother Madison with this. She already has to deal with everything regarding my career, and most of my private life.

  When the phone rings, I jump, but then quickly go to grab it. I’ve been waiting all night for him to call me. The number on the screen isn’t EJ’s.

  Caller ID reads Metro Davidson Jail.

  Shit…

  Quickly I answer, deciding now isn’t the time to put off helping him in whatever way I can. “Hello?”

  An official sounding voice talks to me on the other end, telling me that my husband’s been picked up for drunk driving, along with other charges because apparently Rhett had drugs on him. My mind is spinning as I’m told the both of them have gone before the overnight judge and they have a bond. Do I want to come and get them?

  More than anything, I want to say no, but I also realize it’s probably not the safest place for them right now. If people recognize them, they could tell Garrett and Hannah before we have a chance to, and I don’t want my in-laws hurt in that way.

  “Yes,” I answer quickly. “I’ll be there. Does the bond need to be cash?”

  “Yes, it does, and they need to surrender passports until trial.”

  Son of a bitch. “I can get Everett’s, but I don’t know where Rhett’s is,” I explain. “I’m his sister-in-law, and I don’t know where he keeps all of his important paperwork of that nature.”

  “You can sign him out,” the person on the other end of the phone is explaining. “,stating you will be responsible for him. He then has twenty-four hours to turn his passport in, or he’ll have to report back to jail. Is that something you’re willing to do?”

  “Yes, yes,” I answer quickly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  There are a number of things I never imagined I would do in my life. Going to pick my husband and his brother from jail is at the very tip-top off that list. Quickly I hop out of bed and put on the first clothes I come to. They need fifty thousand in cash total to get them out, and it dawns on me how lucky they are; EJ showed me where the safe in this house was a few months ago. I know that’s also where his passport is.

  My whole body shakes as I take the stairs two at a time, going down to where the office is. Cranking on the light, I refuse to think about the last day we spent here. It was sometime after Labor Day and before Halloween. It was a good afternoon spent going over paperwork we needed to form our record label.

  We’d made jokes about how we were going to take over the world.

  That seems so far away right now. Further than I ever imagined it would be. Tears well up in my eyes and I fight to keep them back, but as I open the safe and grab what I need out, they slide down my cheeks. Unchecked and sloppy.

  How in the hell did my life turn into this?

  Because, you listened to your mother, I answer myself. Haven’t you learned anything yet?

  EJ

  It’s embarrassing to have your wife come pick you up from jail. Much more so than I assumed it would be.

  “Thompson brothers, your ride is here.”

  Both of us have sobered up considerably. At least enough to know we’re in deep shit. We’re going to be paying for this for years to come. We stand and walk to the edge of the cell, waiting for them to open the iron gates. When they do, we slowly follow them to the lobby, where we’re allowed to pick up what we brought in with us.

  Except for the motherfucking drugs RJ had on him.

>   I’m still pissed about that.

  But I don’t know if I’m more pissed at myself or at him, because I knew he was using, and I didn’t do enough to stop it.

  Bri stands there, arms crossed over her chest looking pissed as hell. It’d almost be sexy, but I know why she’s here and I know she’s not in the mood to fuck with us right now.

  “I’m sorry,” I try as we walk up to her.

  “I don’t even want to talk to either of you right now,” she hisses. “RJ, I had to sign paperwork that I’m responsible for you. You will get your passport and turn it into them by tomorrow evening. If not, they’ll come put you back in jail and you’ll owe me what I put up for your bond. Do you understand?”

  He nods, as quiet as I am.

  As fucking ashamed.

  “Does Montgomery know?” he asks as we make our way out to the parking lot.

  “I’m sure she will soon. On my way here, I got a google alert about the two of you being picked up. Everyone will know before noon tomorrow, so you both might as well get used to it.”

  We both groan, the magnitude of what we’ve done sinking in deeply.

  “Do you want me to drop you off at your house, or do you want to come to ours?” Bri asks RJ as she looks at him in the backseat.

  “Just drop me off, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure to take my passport to them. Thank you for getting me out of jail.”

  “I wish I could say you’re welcome, but I honestly wonder if the two of you shouldn’t have stayed there a little longer. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t,” he admits. “All I wanted was to have some fun with my brother.”

  And now I feel like shit. I’m the one who put him in this situation and now I’ve made it worse. There’s no traffic this early in the morning, but I watch it out the window because I don’t want to see the look on Bri’s face, don’t want to see the disappointment as she drives to RJ’s house. She should be in bed, not worrying about what her husband and his brother were doing at all hours of the night.

  As much as I told her to grow up, I should’ve been man enough to let her come to me when she felt capable of doing so. There’s so much wrong with this situation that I’m not sure there will ever be anything right again.

  We get to RJ’s and he quietly gets out. “Thanks again, Bri.” His head down, shoulders slumped in defeat as he makes his way to the front door, pressing his code into the keypad.

  Now that I’m alone with her, I don’t know what to say, not sure what I can do to make this situation any better. Deathly afraid there’s no way to even attempt to do it.

  “I’m worried about RJ,” I whisper, because this woman has turned into my best friend. She’s the person I go to when I’m upset, angry, and happy. Right now, I’m scared to death I’ve lost her and the relationship we’ve built.

  “So am I,” she answers just as quietly. “But I’m more worried about us and whether or not we’ll be able to make it through this.”

  As she backs out of RJ’s driveway and goes through his neighborhood, I think about what she’s said, and I worry about it too. How far is too far that you can’t come back from?

  Have we hit that point, and if we have, what the fuck do I do now?

  “I’m worried about him,” I speak into the quietness of the SUV. “I don’t know how to reach him, or what to do to keep him from spiraling even further.”

  She stays quiet as she navigates out of his neighborhood, and I’m wondering if she’ll even say anything when we come to a stop light. It’s red, so we come to a complete stop. She grabs her phone, scrolling through messages before it turns green and she hits the gas again.

  “Well,” -she checks her blind spot as she gets back on the interstate - “I’m probably the wrong person to talk to about this, because I never even saw what happened tonight coming. At least you could see your brother starting to self-destruct. I was blind to it all.”

  It’s as if a barrier appears between us at that moment. I’m effectively closed off, and I’m not sure when she’s ever going to let me back in.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  EJ

  “I’m sorry,” I try again, hours later. I’ve had a shower, slept, and eaten. Bri looks to be in the same spot she was in earlier. Still stewing over what I’ve done.

  “Ya know, last night, I was sorry too.” She looks over at me, tears pooling in her eyes. “I knew I’d been wrong. As soon as you left, I knew I was wrong. But my mom, she’s got this damn dark cloud over me that I’m never going to be able to get out from under, it feels like, but I was willing to try. Because I knew what you were saying was the truth. I can’t continue to let her use me the way she does.”

  “I’m glad,” I whisper, but I get the feeling this isn’t what she’s getting at.

  “I beat myself up after you left.” She wipes at the tears that are slowly leaking. “Wondering how I could take her side against you, when I know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Even when I doubt myself, you’re usually right there to pick me back up again. Last night though, you left.”

  “I don’t know what I was think-”

  “I’m not done,” she cuts in. “I sat here thinking about how it was my fault you’d left. How I should’ve listened more and tried to stand up to my mom for us. I was ready to tell you, I didn’t deserve you and maybe it would be best if we went our separate ways.”

  “No, I don’t want that…”

  “But then, I got the call you were in jail. Which, isn’t like you, but last night wasn’t anything like a normal night for us. I went and picked you up with no problem. Knowing we’d have to work through this together,” she cries. “This morning though, the pictures? EJ, how could you?”

  “What pictures?” I question, kind of remembering some girl who’d been at the bar.

  “Look on your phone.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “They’re everywhere. Every place I look, you’re kissing some other woman.”

  My stomach clenches as what she’s saying to me penetrates into my brain. “I’m so sorry.” I close my eyes. “I remember kissing her,” I admit.

  “Why?” She folds her arms under her breasts, angrily wiping her nose with one hand. “Why would you do this to me?”

  “I was so angry,” I start to try and explain myself. “I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.”

  “Well you did.”

  “So where does that leave us?” I question, having a seat at our kitchen bar. “You’re hurt, I’m hurt, RJ’s a fucking mess, and we both have records that need to be finished and released. Where the fuck does that leave us?”

  “It leaves me with a broken heart, I trusted you more than I’ve ever trusted someone else,” she cries.

  “Same here, babe, but you didn’t trust me enough to tell me whatever it is your mom has on you. Don’t know we’re strong enough to withstand anything? But you didn’t even tell me. Not when I begged you.”

  She sighs deeply, her chest deflating into herself. “I tried to kill myself, Everett. I really tried to kill myself. Would have succeeded if Madison hadn’t come to find me for an interview.”

  My stomach churns as I think about what she’s just told me. I almost didn’t get a chance to meet her, because she’d almost died before she met me. Needing to feel her, I wrap my arms around her body, rocking her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It turned out to be a one-time thing and I got over it.”

  “A one-time thing? It’s a pretty serious thing.”

  “I had to be in a mental hospital for four weeks. That’s the other thing my mom’s holding over my head. Obviously my medical records are sealed, but I was a minor at the time, so she has access to get to them if she wants to. She’s threatening to tell everyone what happened. Which meant she was going to tell you, and I didn’t want to see the disappointment in your face.”

  “But then I had to go and do this,” I finish for her.

  “Yeah…”

 
“There are a million things I need to apologize for right now, so please let me do it. I should’ve known you better. Should’ve realized you were trying to hide something that big from me.”

  “You tried to get me to tell you,” she offers. “But I was scared. Nobody wants to admit that. It’s so personal, so embarrassing, and for me it was such a cry for help. I didn’t want to think I’m not a strong person.” She tilts her head to the side, grabbing her bottom lip with her teeth, her voice strangled. “I’m most proud of the person I’ve become with you because she’s strong, and it felt like my mom set me back years. I crumbled at your feet instead of asking for your help. Strong Bri would’ve asked.”

  “No, Strong Bri tried to ask by not asking,” I argue. “That’s when I should’ve known something was wrong.”

  “While we’re playing Devil’s Advocate, you aren’t a mind reader. I could’ve helped you more.”

  I want to tell her she’s right, but that almost seems like I’m putting the blame where it shouldn’t be. Right square on me. There’re also other things weighing on me. “Not only did I get myself in trouble, but look what happened to Rhett.” I tilt my head back on my shoulders, rubbing my palms over my face. “I had no idea he was this deep into it. I mean I saw him on Halloween, but the shit he had…” I trail off because it’s too much to deal with.