Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

  “I’m sure your dad said the same things to your mom, and look how that ended.”

  Ryder’s arms dropped to his sides. The anger flowing through his tendons eased, as total and utter devastation took its place. “That’s low, Kitty Cat, even for you.”

  Guilt twisted on Jamie’s face, but she continued driving the knife into his heart. “It’s the truth. You were just something I did because it felt good, because I wanted to fill the void of losing my baby, but I won’t trade in one devil for another.”

  “Fuck you, Jamie,” he said, because, what else was left to say? Ryder told Jamie that day in the back alley at Cibo that if they ever broke up, there would be no doubts, no gray area.

  Jamie promised Ryder she’d destroy them, he just never wanted to believe her.

  “Goodbye, Ryder.” She hit the button on her key. The locks clicked, and it was the most heart-breaking sound he’d ever heard.

  “If you leave now, I swear I’m done. I can’t keep chasing you.” The show was over. There wouldn’t be an encore.

  Jamie shook her head, and got into the car without another word.

  Three Months Later.

  Jamie stared at her reflection in the mirror, careful not to make eye contact with the blonde bimbo staring back at her. She hated that she was getting ready to go out to dinner with a man who bought her. She hated that they were being joined by the man who sold her, and most importantly, she hated herself.

  Pressing a kiss onto her new tattoo, a pale pink NR located on the inside of her right wrist, she inhaled and exhaled. The tattoo was a new source of strength. Whenever she felt like giving up, she’d look at it and remember why she was putting on this show.

  Lithium Springs spent the last three months making headlines. They were touted in Rolling Rock Magazine as Seattle’s best kept secret, and were booking gigs up and down the west coast: information she’d gathered over obsessively stalking them online. She’d even set up a Google Alert, with both Ryder and the band’s name. Logically, she knew reading about them, looking at pictures and watching videos of them perform, was unhealthy, but she couldn’t stop. Just an hour earlier, she was treated to an Instagram Live video on the Lithium Springs page of the guys hanging out after a show in Toronto. She didn’t miss the bottle blonde whose hands seemed to be glued to Ryder’s torso.

  Jamie didn’t have the right to be jealous. Hell, she had a boyfriend, but it hurt to see him moving on. Her heart belonged to Ryder regardless of who her body belonged to. It was the one thing Jared didn’t own.

  The merger had been a success. Jared’s company absorbed her father’s and as promised, Archer kept his seat on the board. Tonight’s dinner was in celebration of the news going public, taking the tech world by storm. As a result, stocks in GoTech rose to a historic high. The men were going to drink to their victory, and the women, well, she’d been instructed by her mother to wear something nice. The tailored romper would have to do. She wasn’t in the mood to be the millionaire’s plaything tonight.

  With a deep sigh, Jamie turned her back on the girl in the mirror and grabbed the Chanel clutch, a gift from Jared, off her bed. He was waiting in the living room, sitting on the sofa with Trey, discussing some motherboards that he intended to sell on his upcoming trip to Tokyo. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how pretentious they sounded.

  Two peas in a rich, prick pod.

  “Don’t look so happy, he might start to think you actually like him,” Kensie teased, coming up behind her. She was wearing one of her signature shift dresses and smelled of lavender.

  “Trust me,” she replied under her breath, “he knows exactly how I feel. Unfortunately, he also knows I’m not going anywhere until he sends me away.” Something she hoped would have happened by now. She was dutiful, well mannered, and only occasionally an asshole to him. They weren’t having sex—ever if she could help it. Jamie “wasn’t ready” and Jared “didn’t want to rush”.

  “Everyone isn’t as cynical as you are, Jam,” Kensie retorted. “Maybe he actually likes you. Maybe you should give him a chance.”

  Jamie bit her tongue. Kensington wanted to see the good in everyone. She wasn’t naïve, but she was blinded by her incessant need for everything to end with happily ever after. Some endings weren’t happy. Not every guy was Prince Charming, but Jamie didn’t want to spoil the fairytale for Kensie. Instead, she shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Jared’s eyes met Jamie’s. There was something dark in the way he looked at her, like she was a shiny new Barbie and he couldn’t wait to tear her legs off. It made her skin crawl. “We should get going. We wouldn’t want to keep your parents waiting.”

  “No, we wouldn’t want that,” she said, doing her best not to flinch.

  In the beginning, they pretended this was a normal courtship. He picked her up, took her on dates, lavished her with gifts, but slowly, as the lights died in her eyes, they stopped pretending and started treating this as what it really was. He bought her. He was no Richard Gear and she certainly wasn’t Julia Roberts. The only person she needed saving from was him. Jared led her out the door, down the elevator and into the waiting black, luxury car idling in front of her building.

  “Am I really that bad?” Jared asked.

  His profile was illuminated by the setting sun. He was handsome, chocolate waves set atop his head, and a light smattering of hair dotted his normally clean shaven chin. He was rich, smart, and ambitious. Any girl would have been lucky to have him—anyone but Jamie.

  “No, you’re amazing. I’m just preoccupied with work. I’m sorry,” she whispered low so he wouldn’t hear the lie.

  “Come here,” he commanded and she obliged. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she slid over to him and let him pull her into his lap. He kissed her neck and she shuddered, willing her body to relax. “I could make you happy,” he murmured, twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers, “if you let me. I’ll give you whatever you want. Cars, clothes, a big house, a family.”

  “What if what I want is for you to let me go?”

  “James,” he tsked, “you’re already bought and paid for. You aren’t going anywhere, but that doesn’t mean I want to be your nightmare.”

  “You can have anyone you want, someone who loves and cares for you, a real relationship, not some deal brokered in a boardroom.”

  “This isn’t about pussy, James. This is about finding a suitable wife. I’ve got big dreams, political aspirations, and you graduated summa cum laude from USC. Your blood is blue. You’re beautiful, you know how to behave, although you drink too much, and despite the fact that you still won’t let me touch you,” he whispered, his hand running up her thigh, “I know deep down you’re a little slut. We can have a lot of fun. You can help me, be my willing partner, and I’ll give you the world, or I can keep you locked away in a gilded cage and roll you out when I need to show you off. The choice is yours, but you are mine. So, forget about the busboy. It will make this easier for both of us.”

  Jamie swallowed hard and scuttled off his lap. A part of her, a small part, held out hope that Jared would tire of her and then her father would back off and she and Ryder would find their way back to each other. But now…now she knew the truth. She was stupid for thinking this was about sex. Who would go through all the trouble Jared went through just to fuck a few times?

  Political aspirations.

  He was never going to let her go. She lived her entire life ruled by appearance, and now, she’d die doing it.

  Dinner went as well as could be expected. Jamie ordered wine, a bottle, and spent most of the night pouting. She was settling into her bored housewife role beautifully. Caroline only insulted her once, and Archer pretty much ignored her. Jamie and her father never had a close relationship, but since the hospital incident, they hadn’t spoken more than five words to each other.

  Somewhere around Jamie’s fourth glass, Jared leaned into her side. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck causing the hair there to stand on end. He dropped an ar
m around her shoulders and with his free hand he swiped her glass, taking a small sip before setting it down on the linen tablecloth.

  “You’re drinking a lot,” he murmured. His mouth was hot on her ear, and she had to fight the urge to push him away.

  Jamie’s eyes met Caroline’s from across the table. She couldn’t read her mother’s expression, but she could tell she was scrutinizing her every move. Jamie’s gaze dropped and sand colored lashes coated with thick clumps of black mascara fanned the tops of her cheeks. “Am I not allowed to drink?”

  Jared tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him. It was the same hand he used to steal her wine, and probably the same one he used to sign the ink on the deal that stole her happiness. He pressed his lips to hers, not forcefully, but not welcomed either. It wasn’t the first kiss they’d shared. He’d kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, but never her mouth. That was something she’d only ever given to Ryder.

  “You’re allowed to drink, but you aren’t allowed to embarrass me, understand?” he asked, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. He bit her, a gentle warning to behave. From an outsider, it looked sweet, almost loving, but his tone held darker intentions.

  Jamie nodded slowly, running the back of her hand down his cheek, nibbling on his earlobe. “I’m here. I’m all in, but if you ever threaten me again, I will stab you in your sleep, understand?”

  A dangerous chuckle rumbled from Jared’s chest as he fingered lazy circles around her bare shoulder. “I like you, James.”

  “I loathe you, Jared,” she growled. He was evil, a monster in Armani. Jamie wouldn’t let a few kind words thrown to her like scraps to a pig, delude her thinking. He was a dragon, a fire-breather, a destroyer.

  Their server returned to the table to refill water goblets and inquire about dessert. Jamie took it as an opportunity to excuse herself. Her head was spinning, mostly because of the wine, but also due to her little encounter with Jared. She weaved in and out of tables, teetering on the burgundy shoes Kensington insisted she buy because, ‘Kendall Jenner wore them in Milan last week.’ They were overpriced, but Jamie had five-million dollars to burn.

  The restroom was small, intimate. Soft, yellow bulbs glowed from circular lighting. Faucets floated above basin style sinks and spa soaps and lotions were nestled into wire holders. Jamie inhaled, and exhaled.

  Be thankful.

  Be mindful.

  Be kind.

  She snorted at the last part. Kind. The world had been everything but kind to her. The world was cruel. Life was suffering. It was drowning in a pool of inadequacy, praying for someone to save you. Praying for the strength to save yourself. Jamie stroked the NR on her wrist to remind herself that she was the life raft.

  The door blew open and with it Caroline and the scent of sandalwood and wealth.

  “Mother.”

  “James, are you well?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Jamie asked cautiously.

  “Because you’ve been putting the wine back like it has no calories, and you’ve barely touched your fish, which I suppose is understandable, but you shouldn’t drink so much—so quickly—on an empty stomach.”

  Words of WASP wisdom. Jamie had no doubt her mother used her Vassar degree to calculate how little food a person needed to eat in order to sustain a mostly liquid diet.

  “I’m fine,” she lied waving off her mother. Jamie turned the water on and pumped the floral scented soap into her palms. The image of Ryder and the Instagram slut flashed through her mind. He was off having the time of his life while she was in the ladies room discussing the finer nuances of being a Stepford wife. In truth, she was miserable.

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “I’m seeing the trainer you recommended. I’m following the prescribed food plan. I’ve lost fifteen pounds even though I only gained ten. Give me a fucking break,” she whisper-hissed.

  “Language, dear. Ladies—future First Ladies—don’t say fuck,” Caroline reprimanded. “I didn’t mean physically. Physically you’ve never looked better, although it wouldn’t have killed you to wear a dress,” she added. Caroline always made sure to punctuate any compliment with an insult, just to keep the scales balanced.

  “Are you going to arrive at a point anytime soon?” Jamie asked, snatching a towel from the holder.

  “I just notice a difference in the way you are with Jared, and the way you were with…that boy. It’s startling.”

  “His name is Ryder, not that boy, and thank you for your concern, but please stop. You’re really bad with these maternal speeches, like, the worst.”

  Caroline shrugged, and shot her daughter a look that said, we all have our strong suits. “I’ve been preparing you for this your entire life, James. You are destined for great things and Jared can help make it happen.”

  Jamie conjured up the most unladylike snort she could muster. “You’ve spent my entire life ignoring me and telling me I’m not good enough.”

  “Do you think men like Jared are going to hold your hand and tell you how pretty you are?” Caroline asked, turning to her daughter. Her face was sincere for the first time, ever. Gone was the brainless housewife Jamie grew up with and in her place was someone new, someone calculating. “Do you think this life is easy, James?”

  “I didn’t ask for this life. I don’t want Jared or to be the first lady of anything. And since we’re being honest, I would have preferred for you to have hugged me and told me you were proud,” Jamie choked. Tears stung in her eyes but she held them back. Caroline would undoubtedly chastise her for ruining her make-up.

  “I may never be the mother you want, but I’m the one you have, and believe it or not I only want the best for you,” Caroline pulled Jamie into a hug. It was their first, at least the first Jamie ever remembered receiving from her mother. The dam broke and fat tears spilled down Jamie’s face as she cried in her mother’s arms. The moment was monumental, but also super-fucking-weird. “This is so awkward.”

  “It is,” her mother agreed, but neither woman broke the connection. After another stretch of silence, Caroline asked, “Do you have any make-up in that Chanel? It’s going to take a miracle to salvage your face.”

  Jamie chuckled. That was the mother she knew, and maybe even loved a little.

  The Guinness clock mounted on the wall behind the bar at the Rabbit Hole was broken. Ryder knew this because he spent ten minutes staring at the damn thing, willing it to move. That was the first sign he’d crossed the threshold from wasted to blackout drunk. It was a fine line—he toed it daily. One minute he was laughing with his friends and the next minute, he was staring at a broken clock. The little hand was permanently stuck on the six, the big hand on the eleven. Time stood still in the small bar. It stood still outside of the bar too. It was Monday, the Rabbit Hole was closed to the public, but they were there for a private party, a celebration.

  It had been three months since he quit his job, two months and three weeks since the day Kitty Cat reached inside his chest and pulled his heart out with her bare hands, and one month since he realized she wasn’t coming back. That was a particularly dark day. He stopped at the liquor store to get a handle of Jim Beam, then home to purge his place of her. The fruity shit—gone. Her clothes—gone. The fucking mattress cover she insisted they buy—gone. Everything that reminded him of Jamie—gone, just like her.

  Ryder thought they were forever. He thought she was his truth, his way, his light, but he was wrong. Some people were only meant to be in your life for a moment. It was okay, that was life. Jamie was temporary, his band, his brothers and their music, that was permanent. That was what he needed to focus on.

  Music was his future.

  Not Jamie.

  Ryder tipped his beer back and shook his head, blond curls tumbling into his eyes. The room started to spin. Yeah, a blackout was in his future.

  “Hey, easy there, Ry. You okay?” Tiff asked, wrapping her arm around his waist to steady him.

  “I’m good,” he slu
rred, pivoting to wrap her in a hug. His hands slid down her back and didn’t stop until they felt ass. “Are you okay?” he said suggestively, scanning her body. Tiff was hot. Her green and black hair hung down her back, and her tits were on display.

  “You’re drunk,” she giggled.

  “What’s the deal with you and C?” Ryder needed to get laid. As much as he told himself he was over Jamie, he still hadn’t had sex with anyone else. He’d come close last weekend. There was a party, a hot blonde, and lots of dank weed. She did her best to try to convince him to let her suck his dick, but after forty-five minutes of begging, Ryder sent her packing.

  “I don’t know. He’s your friend, why don’t you ask him.” Ryder could hear the sadness in Tiffany’s voice. CT was across the bar chatting with a girl with smooth, dark skin and long braids. Ryder recognized the look in his eyes, and apparently, Tiff did too.

  “Oh, he’s about to fuck the shit out of her,” he said on a whistle.

  Tiff bristled at his comment. Her and the drummer weren’t exclusive, they both hooked up with other people, but she was falling for CT, and everyone could see it but him.

  “Yeah, well, what about Kitty Cat?”

  “Do you see her around here?” Ry snapped. He didn’t mean to, but it still hurt to hear her name.

  “No, but—”

  “Have you seen her once in the last three months?”

  “No.” Tiff shook her head.

  “Then don’t worry about her.” Even saying the words aloud felt foreign, but he needed this. He needed help forgetting. The drinking and the weed only dulled the hurt. He wanted it gone, permanently. He wanted to feel the way he felt before Jamie turned his fucking world upside down.

  “Look, I like Jamie, and when you two get back together, I don’t want to have this weirdness between us, or between you and CT.”