Cadence (Ruby Riot Book 1) (26 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

MANCHESTER, ENGLAND

JAX

Will cancels the call and throws the phone in the air before deftly catching it. “This is gonna be one hell of a wrap up party.”

I sit on the table. “Who've you invited?”

Will lists off, alphabetically, half of our old Sixth Form class and a fair few names I recognise from uni. He finishes with a grin.

“Holy shit! That's fifty people, man.”

“They won't all come.”

“You reckon?”

“Yeah. It'll be cool. Some can see our awesomeness backstage, and we'll invite the important people back for our own personal party.”

I shake my head. “Hope you told our resident PR guru what to expect. Twins Gone Wild.”

Nate wanders in with a burger in his hand. “What we doing now?” he asks and takes a bite.

“You need to talk to your... whatever she is,” I say to him.

“Who?”

“Riley. You’re  girlfriend. Will's invited half of Oxfordshire to the wrap up party,” I say.

Nate pauses. “She's nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah, right,” mutters Will.

“Riley knows the score,” retorts Nate. “I don't date, that's Jax's avenue.” He shoves the rest of the burger in his mouth and scrunches the wrapper into a ball.

“You still screwing her?” asks Will.

“Who says I was?” Nate throws the balled paper at his brother's head.

As they argue over whether Nate’s lying, I check my phone. No call from Tegan. Following the conversation last week, I wavered between pissed off she wanted to leave me and happy something positive is happening to her after the drama she’s put up with. I’m facing a double-edged sword: if Tegan works with our PR, she won’t travel and hopefully stays in London. But if she starts her own career, our lifestyles could clash further. Plus, she could find somebody else more suited to her.

In the end, she compromised and returned to London a few days before we were due back in the UK, rather than a week. Tegan claimed this was only because she wanted to visit Milan, but we both know being together was part of her decision.

The UK leg starts in Manchester tomorrow, and Tegan intended to visit. Now she’s unsure she can travel here, throwing herself into her work. The more Tegan talks to me about this, the more Tegan sounds as if she wants to take on the PR gig permanently. I’m proud – she must be bloody good to be taken under their wing so quickly – but jealous too. I don’t want to lose her. I want to be the centre of her world the way she is to me. I didn’t realise how far into an obsession with her I’d fallen.

Months of the world falling at my feet, of getting everything I want, and now the very thing I want most could slip away. Tegan tells me she doesn’t want to be just Jax Lewis’s girlfriend; but what if she returns to reality, and I don’t fit her plans anymore?

Chapter Thirty-Six

TEGAN

The longer I’m away from Jax, the further away from his weird and wonderful world I am. Despite the fun of touring, I enjoy the ordinariness of a drink after work with normal people, because the scrutiny doesn’t come as part of the evening fun. Usually this is with the core group of girls from work, but tonight I persuade the less pretentious Claire and Zoe to visit somewhere less expensive. I’d swap a fancy, overpriced bar for a suburban pub any day and sit at the scratched circular table on a low, stained stool.

I asked Riley and Julian if they want to come along. Riley declined my offer, but Julian enthusiastically agreed. I’m surprised Riley travelled with the tour as long as she did because she becomes edgy about working late and rarely joins us for a drink in the evenings. Admittedly, I’m often on the edge of work-related conversations and spend the time exchanging texts with Jax so there’s little point me being out with them either.

The space in the pub shrinks as people cram in for the beginning of their evening. This is a student suburb, the atmosphere and patrons unpretentious and laidback. As Claire and Zoe chat about the latest scandals between people I’ve never heard of, I drift off into thoughts of Jax. Julian approaches, sets down a fresh beer for me, and sits on the stool. Earlier, I persuaded him to spill secrets about other agency clients. I smiled at his tales of the latest music industry darling, Dani-Kay's, princess nature, and he whispered secrets about the boy band star who he's stumbled across with men, when he's the centre of most teen girls’ worlds.

“I don’t think you’re having much fun tonight,” he remarks after half an hour.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah, your bored face is hard to hide.” He pulls a face to demonstrate, and switches to a grin. “I know Claire and Zoe are dying to ask you questions.”

“Why?”

“You’re the girl of the moment, right? You and Jax. How’s that going?”

I pick up my glass, and stare into it. “Interesting.”

“Ah right. Don’t want to talk about it?’ He taps his nose. “I won’t tell your wild rock star secrets.”

“Ha! I don’t have any.”

“Ruby Riot is a good band though, what are they like? Friendly? They’ve never spoken to me.” I study the tall guy with the impressive beard and man bun, an image a few students around share. Funny how fashions that begin as a sign of individuality become mainstream. Like grungy rock stars.

“You don’t look like you’d be a fan.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow. “Why?”

“You’ve seen their fans. They’re more…” I flourish a hand and he nods. “Different to you.”

“Well, I like them. And Blue Phoenix. I’m honoured I have the chance to work with a member of rock royalty.” He holds his glass up. “Cheers.”

Rock royalty? Me. Bryn. Jax. Blue Phoenix. Ruby Riot. Jesus, my whole life is part of theirs. When I was younger, my ties to Bryn meant nothing, but suddenly they’re significant.

Staying under the radar isn’t an option anymore.

“Hardly!” I protest.

“Do you get followed much?”

“When I’m with Jax. I try not to stand out.” Tonight I’ve dressed down, in an attempt to blend in – skinniest of skinny jeans and a scoop-necked blue sweater. I have my hair pulled into a ponytail and no make-up, hopeful I won’t be recognisable. Claire and Zoe are dressed the same, but somehow they manage to combine dressing down with looking dressed up.

“Surprised you’re not wearing a hat and sunglasses.”

I pull a face. “Very funny. Like I said, nobody pays me much attention when I’m on my own.”

“Good luck with that.” He looks away and drinks.

“Why?”

“Come on, Tegan. There’s a reason you have a rock star falling at your feet.”

I splutter. “He isn’t.”

“If he isn’t, he’s crazy.”

I shift in my seat, heart rate picking up. Crap. Did I misread him? Julian breaks into a grin. “Don’t stress, I’m not hitting on you. I know I’m no competition for Jax Lewis.”

Julian is not my type of guy. At all. The idea of kissing a man with a beard grosses me out, but I don’t say anything. The last thing I want is for him to leave me alone talking girl stuff with Claire and Zoe.

Julian and me share a laugh about Sarah, a girl from the office, and her blatantly obvious attempts to get backstage passes. I’ve promised her I’ll work something out before the end of the tour, and Riley warns her about the twins. Sarah’s response is she has no interest in the groupie lifestyle; maybe she’s not as ditzy as she behaves. Apparently, Sarah wants the free booze and bragging rights. Julian asks if he needs to worry about the twins too if he goes and is rewarded with a scowl from Riley. I promise him another pass so he can make the tour wrap up party too.

As the evening continues Claire attempts to persuade me to spill on Jax, as Julian predicted. Julian immediately launches into a story about his dealings with boyband, The Five. The attention switches from me; I nod at him in gratitude and he winks. This is the most relaxing night out I’ve had for weeks. Calm. Normal. I’ve isolated myself from long-term friendships by travelling, and I click with these people.

I check my phone for a message from Jax. He’s in Manchester tonight and although my trust in him has grown, I’m still cautious and find myself checking social media every morning for reports on him. When we’re together and alone, the world retreats until there is no rock star in the relationship. Then he’s just Jax, the man whose magnetism I can’t escape. I’m not fatalistic, but believe something unusual exists between us and creates this intensity. I’ve reached the point where not being around him leaves a space in my life I can’t fill with anything else. If I didn’t see the world reflected in Jax’s eyes, I would run. Far.

“I’ll buy the next drinks,” I tell Julian and pull my purse from my pocket. Five pounds left, I had plenty of money earlier. I forget how expensive London is. “Sorry, I need to grab some more cash.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Julian, reaching for his wallet.

“No. My round. There’s a cashpoint close by. I’ll be there and back in less than five minutes.”

I stand and Julian does too. “Want me to come with you?”

“No! I’m fine. Honestly. Five minutes.”

“If you’re sure.” I point at the door and wave my purse at Phoebe to indicate what I’m doing and she nods.

The pub is located on a main street in Box Hill amongst small shops and cafes. The roads are always busy, but as the hours pass the number of people walking around drops. At this time, there’re usually groups of younger people and the occasional person walking their dog to the nearby green. 11 p.m.. I wouldn’t do this in the early hours, but I’m happy to walk the few hundred metres to the bank alone. I pull my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. No more Jax texts.

When I reach the bank and cashpoint, I wait behind a couple of girls as I shiver against the lingering winter. Why didn’t I bring my jacket? Light from the street highlights the blue hair of the girl who rests against the building wall, as the other retrieves her money. She watches me and I smile and say hello. The girl doesn’t respond, instead saying something in a low voice to her friend. The other girl tucks cash into her back pocket and turns to look at me too. I size them up. Around my age. Piercings and bright hair. Dark clothes. My scalp prickles at their silent scrutiny.

“Are you Tegan Hughes?” asks the taller girl with blue hair.

Unsure what to say, I nod.

“Told you!” she tells her friend and shoves her arm.

They both study me again, like I’m something unpleasant they’d find on the bottom of their boots
.
They step closer and I move back. “Are you still with Jax?” asks the blue-haired girl.

“Yes.”

“Wow, what a bitch,” mutters the second girl.

“What?”

“You. What a bitch.”

I swallow down my nerves. “Excuse me.”

As I step towards the cashpoint, one of the girls stands in front of me. “Who’s the other guy?” The intensity of her tone is matched by an agitation, which unnerves me, as she picks at her sleeve.

“Who?” I ask.

“The guy you’re all over tonight,” says the other from behind me. “We saw you two in the pub.”

“A friend. And I’m not all over him!”

My heart bangs and I turn around. The other girl scowls at me. I’m trapped between them, if I sidestep she will too. These girls are Ruby Riot fans, and not a fan of me. I need to move. I glance at the nearby pavement, where a group of men walk along, talking loudly.

“Excuse me,” I say and make to walk past. The blue-haired girl places a hand on my chest. I push her arm to one side. “Don’t touch me.”

She keeps hold of my arm, nails digging into my wrist. “Are you cheating on Jax?”

“Told you she didn’t deserve him!” remarks the other, voice rising in pitch.

What the fuck? “Move!” I snap and step forward. A pain sears my scalp as the girl behind grabs my ponytail and yanks my hair backwards. I grab the ends twisting away from her. “Get the hell off me!”

Need to leave. Now. I could walk to the group heading along the nearby street. Go back to the pub. Don’t show these girls how terrified I am.

“You little bitch!” snarls the other into my face. “You have Jax Lewis in love with you and you screw somebody else?” Dilated pupils look back. My stomach flips. There’s something extreme about their behaviour and now I know why – they’re high. Unpredictable.

“I’m not and he isn’t!” I protest.

“We saw you! We’re gonna tell him!”

Oh, wow. “Really? You have a direct line to Jax?”

“We have photos!” The red-haired girl drops my hair and holds her phone in my face. I squint at the picture of me chatting to Julian in the pub.

“Fine. Tell him. Excuse me.” I attempt to push by again.

“Ohmigod!” shrieks the girl behind. “She’s admitted it!”

“What? I -” I’m interrupted by a stinging slap across my face and I stumble, breath catching in my throat.

I stare back at the girl blinking away the watering eyes. Anger replaces the fear and I swallow down the desire to retaliate. More violence won’t help the situation.

“Happy now?” I say though gritted teeth, holding my cheek.

She didn’t expect this reaction because the girl slaps me a second time and my skin stings. The girl behind grabs my hair again and pulls my head downwards.

This is not happening.

I could scream, yell, something, but nothing will come from my mouth. I can’t move, bent over where she’s dragged my head down.

“You think you’re something because you’re brother’s a rock star!” she snarls into my face. “That doesn’t give you the right to take Jax and screw around!”

I gasp as the girl behind shoves me and I trip. Skin scrapes on my palms as I hit the ground and one of them grabs my hair again. She pulls my head upwards and smacks my forehead on the ground. The pain doesn’t register; the dull thud of my skull on the pavers joined by ringing in my ears. When she lets go I fall forward and wrap my arms around my head.

This isn’t happening. Can’t be.

“Fucking kick her!” she yells to the other.

Still the words won’t come, blood whooshes through my ears and I struggle for breath as I brace myself for the next assault.

“What the hell is going on?” A male voice carries from the street and I hold my breath.

“Shit!” hisses the girl whose face is closest to me. “Go!”

I remain on the ground, arms wrapped around my head as their running footsteps retreat. Two pairs of shoes appear in front of me.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” I sit back on my heels and wobble slightly, placing a hand on the floor to steady myself as the world spins.

In the darkness, a middle-aged woman crouches down, short blonde hair falling forward, and studies my face. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble but when I try to stand, I stumble.

“Are you on your own?” asks the man with her.

“My friends are in The Crown. I’ll go back to them.”

The couple look at each other, a silent communication over what to do with me. The girls have disappeared from sight leaving the three of us in a strange meeting. “Did they take your purse?” asks the woman.

“Um. Yes. And my phone,” I lie.

“Jesus, the attacks around here are getting worse,” mutters the man. “Now you see why I don’t like Molly out on her own at night!”

Leaning down, I slide my hands down my thighs, sucking in panicked breaths. My forehead stings and the ringing in my ears won’t stop.

“We’ll take you back to your friends,” says the woman and places a gentle hand on my arm. “Maybe you should get checked out if you hit your head.”

“I’m fine.”

Is the spaced out feeling of disconnection from my surrounds because of the fear, or the bang on the head? I walk slowly, in case I trip again and alert the couple to how bad my head hurts. Once I step into the safety of the pub, I indicate my workmates half-hidden by a group in front of their table. “I’m all right now. My friends are there.”