ANGEL: Fallen Angel Series #3

by Frank, Ella

  Levi led us down the row to the next raised platform to interview with one of the cable entertainment shows, and as I followed the guys up the stairs, my eyes caught on Trent, who was looking in our direction with an unreadable expression. It was easy to see why fans had been in such an uproar about him leaving the band—he was definitely an attractive guy. Chin-length chestnut hair, piercing hazel eyes, and a confidence you couldn’t mimic.

  For a moment, it looked like Trent wanted to head in our direction, but then a woman who looked every bit a PR maven whispered something to him, and he seemed to change his mind, following her the opposite way toward the theater.

  “Don’t worry. He won’t say anything,” Killian whispered to me before putting on a charming smile for the host.

  I found Killian’s reassurances interesting, because I didn’t care one way or another about Trent saying anything to me. I did, however, care about Viper clearing the air with his old friend, but whether Viper would be open to that, I couldn’t exactly ask right now.

  “Congratulations on your nominations tonight, guys,” the host, a woman in a blood-red one-shoulder dress, said, as the team behind the scenes handed us microphones. “You’re up for Best New Artist, Best Rock Band, Best Song, and Best Album. Which of those four are you most hoping to win?”

  “This feels like a trick question, Robin,” Jagger said, turning his megawatt smile in the host’s direction, and I almost felt a little sorry for her when she blushed. “We’re hoping to win all four.”

  “Of course you are,” she said with a laugh. “You’re up against your old bandmate, Trent Knox, for Best New Artist. How are you feeling about that?”

  “I wasn’t aware we were up against anyone,” Viper said smoothly, and then he gave a cheeky wink at the camera.

  “That’s probably because you guys have been so busy on tour. I’ve got my tickets ready for your L.A. stop, but for those at home who haven’t grabbed tickets, can you tell us a bit about what you can expect from the show?”

  Slade lifted the mic and looked straight at the camera as he said, “A melt-your-panties fucking hot time.”

  The eyes of every crew member behind the scenes went wide, and even Robin was thrown off her game for a couple of seconds. She recovered fast, though, and to the camera said, “Thank God we’re on a ten-second delay.”

  “Oh. Whoops,” Slade said, not looking sorry at all and handing his microphone to Killian, most likely so he could resist the urge to say anything more.

  “Um. Okay,” Robin said, overly brightly, plastering on a big smile that didn’t look sincere. “It was good to see you guys, and good luck tonight.” She looked eager for us to get off the platform, and after we handed our mics back and headed back down to the red carpet, I chuckled and slapped Slade on the back.

  “I think that might’ve sold anyone at home who was on the fence about coming to one of our gigs,” I joked.

  “Nah, they probably bleeped the whole thing,” Jagger said, before coming to an abrupt stop as Levi stepped in front of us with his hands out.

  “Did you guys really say ‘panty-melting’ and ‘fucking’ on camera?” he said, his usually calm demeanor looking a little shot.

  Our heads all turned in Slade’s direction, who looked surprised that we’d put him on blast, but then he shrugged. “I forgot we couldn’t say that. And if you want specifics, I said, ‘melt-your-panties fucking hot,’ not ‘panty-melting.’” When Levi stared at him blankly, Slade said, “What?”

  Levi rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. When he dropped his arm, he said, “Forget the interviews. Let’s just get you inside before the show realizes they need to censor any possible acceptance speeches.”

  Not for the first time tonight, I thought, Poor Levi. I definitely wouldn’t want the job of having to manage a bunch of assholes who went off script all the time.

  As we made our way into the theater, Viper reached for my hand, like the walk down the red carpet had been torture and he couldn’t wait another second to touch me.

  “I missed you too,” I murmured, interlacing our fingers as we followed the rest of the band straight to the bar. The line was long, full of all the other musicians who had the same idea we did, and after waiting for ten minutes without moving, Viper brought our hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to my fingers.

  “Be right back. Gonna hit the men’s.”

  “You want me to order for you?”

  Viper looked at the line and then smirked. “If you’ve moved an inch before I get back, I’ll be fuckin’ shocked.”

  Thirty-One

  Viper

  I WAS WASHING my hands in one of the semi-private restrooms when Trent finally made his appearance. I’d known it was coming at some point tonight, but I’d been hoping to at least get a drink in my hand before it happened.

  I caught his eyes in the mirror where he stood behind me, and then I reached for a paper towel to dry my hands as I turned to face him.

  It’d been over a year since I’d seen him, and though he looked the same, something about him was different. I let my gaze roam over him, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. His hair was a bit longer, and he’d gone casual like he always did, wearing a pair of black jeans, a printed black T-shirt, and an open suit jacket.

  “Viper,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s been a long time.”

  An awkward silence descended as I balled up the paper towel and tossed it in the trash. “What do you want, Trent?”

  “I thought we could talk.”

  My eyes moved to the tall, built guy standing a little behind him. He had to be at least six-five, with muscles like tires, and tattooed from the neck down, at least from what I could see. His ice-blond hair was slicked back, the light strands melting into dark, and he wore an immaculate fitted navy suit and vest, a total contradiction of his looks.

  I nodded toward him. “Your bodyguard?”

  Trent gave the man a look and then inclined his head toward me. “Shaw, this is Viper. Viper, this is my boyfriend, Shaw.”

  “Boyfriend?” I said, my eyebrows shooting up, unable to hide my surprise. “Really? And you brought him out in public. Things have changed.”

  “A lot’s changed since the last time I saw you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

  “And you thought following me into the men’s room was the place to do that?”

  Trent looked around the empty restroom and shrugged. “I wanted some privacy. No one’s listening or taking pictures in here.”

  I leaned back against the sink and crossed my arms. “Okay. Speak.”

  “You’re defensive. I get it. You’re upset I walked out on you guys, and I’m sorry. I should’ve sat you all down and told you how unhappy I was—”

  “Unhappy? We were on top of the fuckin’ world—”

  “And I had no say in that, did I? You and Kill ran TBD, and any input I gave was tossed out. You said some pretty fucked-up shit to me, V. You know as well as I do that you made my life hell those last few months.”

  “So you just bailed? You left us all to rot and die, because you were too selfish to have a hard conversation.”

  “You know what? Fuck you,” Trent said, stepping forward, but Shaw held him back.

  “Feel free to call off your watchdog. I don’t mind knocking your head clean off your goddamn shoulders.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Yeah, and who always won?” I smirked. “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty-boy face before the show, would we?”

  “Jesus Christ.” Trent ran his hand through his hair and gripped the ends. “Still an asshole.”

  “Why fix what’s not broken?”

  “And here I thought maybe an angel would temper your foul fuckin’ mood.”

  With the mention of Halo, it was my turn to move. I jerked up off the sink and started forward, but there again was Shaw stepping in between us. If he wasn’t so damn massive, I would’ve shoved him aside, b
ut I had a feeling he didn’t get those muscles just from the gym.

  “Leave him the fuck out of this,” I said.

  “I wasn’t saying that to be a dick, V. And it’s not like I’ve been hiding under a rock, either. I know how you feel about each other, and I know how good he’s been for the band.”

  “Yeah, he has. You have no clue what we went through when you left. You ever been booed on stage? Had shit thrown at you? Because that’s the shit we had to put up with when you walked.”

  Trent’s face fell, and he looked away. “I know. I’m not sure if Killian ever told you that we met up earlier this year—”

  “Of course he did. He’s not the type to keep secrets.”

  Trent ignored the dig. “Kill told me what happened at the Savannah show, and… Shit. I never meant for any of that to happen. I just needed to fucking breathe, and I couldn’t do that in TBD anymore.” When I didn’t say anything, Trent blew out a breath. “Look, I didn’t come in here to fight with you. I came to clear the air, okay? I don’t want to avoid each other if we’re at the same place, and I don’t want all the shit talking, either.”

  “Aw, but you give me so much material,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “V, come on. I know I fucked you guys over, and trust me, I plan on apologizing to the rest of the guys for that, but I’m not the only one who should be throwing out an ‘I’m sorry’ here.”

  I had to bite down on my tongue to stop the retort that wanted to come flying out of my mouth, instead thinking back to more than a year ago, when Trent was still around. It’d been a rough few months at the end, I’d cop to that, but we’d just come off a massive tour and had gone straight into the studio to work on the next album. We were tired. We needed a break from each other.

  And yeah, maybe I’d been an asshole, but what else was new? Trent had wanted to go in a direction that was the complete opposite of TBD’s sound, and it caused us to butt heads more often than not.

  “So we made you that miserable? Or me, specifically?” I said.

  “Look, we had a great run for a long time, but toward the end? Yeah. You, the whole thing. I felt like I was suffocating, and I don’t expect you to understand, but I needed to find my own way. You guys felt broken? I felt broken too. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to make music again.”

  I glanced at Shaw. “I’m guessing you found some inspiration for that.”

  A smile crossed Trent’s lips as he looked at the intimidating man watching us. “Yeah, I did.”

  “And you’re…happy.”

  “I am. And if you’d stop playing the stubborn, unforgiving asshole, you would admit you’re happy too.”

  “Oh, I can admit I’m happy even being a stubborn, unforgiving asshole.” I crossed my arms again and rubbed my jaw. “But I can see that I go too far with shit sometimes. If I’d known I was such an unbearable jackass, I would’ve backed off a little.”

  Trent snorted. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Okay, I probably wouldn’t.”

  Trent looked at me expectantly, and when I didn’t say anything, he asked, “Isn’t there anything you want to add to that?”

  “No.”

  “Really? Nothing you think you should say to make up for being an arrogant jerk?”

  I thought it over. “Nope.”

  Trent rolled his eyes. “Well, if you think of something, you know where to find me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I straightened and looked between the two guys. “We done here? I’ve got a hot date waiting for me.”

  When he nodded, I made my way to the door, but before I walked out, I looked over my shoulder. “Hey, Trent? Good luck tonight. You’re gonna need it.”

  Thirty-Two

  Halo

  I COULDN’T READ the look on Viper’s face as he made his way to the bar, where I stood with the guys, both our drinks in hand. He’d been gone so long that I’d almost sent out a search party.

  “Everything okay?” I said, handing him his drink. “I got you a double whiskey.”

  “That’s perfect, Angel.” He surprised me by throwing his arm around my neck and bringing me in for a deep kiss that left me breathless until Levi’s voice broke us apart.

  “Maybe you could save it for the after-party? Just because we’re inside doesn’t mean there aren’t cameras.”

  Viper dropped his hold on me and shrugged as he lifted his drink to his lips. Satisfied, Levi walked off as I gave Viper an inquisitive look.

  “Okay, what’s goin’ on?” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re acting strange.”

  “Is that new?”

  I lifted an eyebrow and waited until Viper sighed.

  “I ran into Trent.”

  My pulse jumped. “And?”

  “He wanted to talk. I wanted him to kiss my ass.” He took a long swallow of whiskey, and I cursed.

  “You didn’t fight, did you?”

  “Physically? No. He’s got a boyfriend the size of the fuckin’ Hulk.”

  “Viper—”

  “Don’t worry so much, Angel. We…came to a truce, I think.”

  “You think?”

  Jagger appeared beside us. “Did I hear you say you called a truce with Trent?”

  “He what?” Slade joined the circle, and even Killian walked over to see what was going on.

  “Calm your tits. It’s not like I sought him out,” Viper said.

  “What did he want?” Slade asked.

  “To apologize.”

  “Seriously? Out of everyone, he chose you to apologize to?” Jagger shook his head.

  “I’m sure he’ll corner your ass later, don’t worry.”

  “And you bought that shit?” Slade frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked wild tonight, his mohawk painted in various shades of blue and purple. It always struck me how he looked like the intimidating guy in the group when he was really the most sensitive. Not that he’d ever admit it, and he’d probably try to punch me if I said it.

  Viper held up his hands. “Look, I’m not gonna be best fuckin’ friends with the guy again. He did what he felt like he had to do, and so did we. I think we got the better end of the deal.”

  “He seemed like he was in a much better place when I saw him in Savannah,” Killian added. “There’s no reason to hate on him anymore, not when we’re doin’ so well. Now, if we were still in a shithole of a mess, yeah, I’d wish a plague on his fuckin’ house.”

  Levi came to an abrupt stop beside me, his wide eyes shifting to Killian. “I’ll come back,” he said, hightailing it away.

  Killian watched him go for a long moment and then focused back on us. “Besides, we’re all here, all nominated for awards. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

  Slade scowled. “So we’re supposed to thank him for leaving, is that it?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” Killian said. “I just don’t think there needs to be any more of this animosity shit. He left, he moved on, we moved on—let’s just agree to be civil.”

  “Yep, that pretty much sums up our convo,” Viper said. “Although I still wouldn’t mind watching Slade throw a punch his way.”

  “Viper…” Killian started, but when Levi walked up again, he clamped his mouth shut.

  “I hate to break this up, but the show’s about to start,” Levi said. “You guys need to get to your seats.”

  As we headed into the theater, Jagger said, “By the way, did you say he has a boyfriend now?”

  Our seats were in the second row on the left, and when I looked around, I noticed they’d seated Trent in the same row on the opposite side of the room. Probably smart, considering the mixed emotions running through the group right now.

  I sat beside Killian, and when Viper took the seat on the other side of me, Levi practically threw his hands up in the air, but no amount of reasoning made Viper budge from his seat.

  Levi looked at me with pleading eyes. “Please make him
behave tonight. He listens to you.”

  “If by behave, you mean no oral sex during the show, I’ll do my best, but no promises,” Viper said, loud enough that there were snickers from the people in surrounding rows.

  Jesus, his mouth, I thought, and where a fierce blush would’ve usually hit my cheeks at a public comment like that, I was so accustomed to the crazy shit that came from Viper’s lips that all I did now was laugh…and maybe only blush a little.

  “We’ll behave,” I said for Levi’s benefit, and when Viper let out a dissatisfied groan beside me, I squeezed his leg.

  “So?” Killian said. “What do you think? Smaller than you thought it’d be, right?”

  “It does look bigger on TV,” I said, taking in the platinum sculptures of the Music World Award statue that stood at attention on either side of the stage. The back wall was covered in screens that, for the moment, had the awards show logo on it. Around us, the seats were filling quickly, and it was hard to keep my mouth from falling open at all the entertainers I recognized. It wasn’t just musicians, either, but actors and celebrities famous for being celebrities.

  “Holy shit, that’s Jennifer Aniston.” I was full-on gawking now, as the actress in a strapless silver metallic dress walked down the aisle, and as she passed our row, she smiled at me and waved. I blinked, watching as she took her seat in the front row. “Oh my God. Please tell me someone just saw that and I didn’t imagine it.”

  Viper leaned over, brushing his finger just under my mouth. “Is that drool, Angel? You got a thing for Jennifer Aniston?”

  “What? No,” I said, shifting in my seat, and when a teasing smile curved Viper’s lips, I rolled my eyes. “I just never thought I’d actually see her in person. This is all so fucking surreal.”