Outlaw Country (14 page)

Colton’s veins were swelling. Kitt knew he was digging deep. Maybe too deep. “Her name is Gracie, and no, that’s not what this is about.” Kitt was one stubborn son of a bitch; he wasn’t going to drop it.

Before Kitt could press any more, a fan came up and interrupted the two of them. She was maybe twenty-five, fiery red hair, and as soon as she open her mouth the Wade brothers knew she had a personality to match. “Oh my effing God, it’s really you?!”

He gave the rock star smile. “Is that a question or statement, darling?” Colton was tired, but that didn’t mean he could stop playing the game. He had to be friendly— overly friendly, sometimes— with his fans. They were the ones who kept the lights on at his place, and they were the ones who kept him in a record deal.

The girl giggled. “I guess it really is you! You put on an amazing show tonight!”

Colton gave his brother look. If the fans couldn’t tell the difference, it shouldn’t really matter all that much to Kitt. Colton’s older brother shook his head and returned to his root beer.

Turning to face her, he said, “Thank you very much. And what is your name?”

“Sierra. I drove all the way from Florida for the show. I dragged two of my girlfriends and even my fiancée, because they didn’t believe how good you were. Hell, I can’t believe it. Colton Wade right in front of me!” She reached into her purse, and Colton stood up. He knew the routine; big smile and a selfie. She waved her friends over. They looked like sisters, if not twins.
Twins.
 

In another time, Colton would have noticed the gleam in the sisters’ eyes and gotten excited. Instead, it made him feel heavy. Every beautiful woman reminded him of Gracie. Every time some sexy little thing came onto him, he wished he was back in that lavish hotel room in Nashville. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Gracie wrapped in the smooth sheets of the bed. Instead of music, he heard the giggle that Gracie let out when the champagne tickled her nose.

Sierra and her friends stood in front of Colton and snapped a picture. They were all in their early twenties, and they were all dressed like they knew how hot they were. Colton took pictures and talked with them, but when they began to flirt, he did his best to shuffle them off on the band. They were more than willing to have three lovely ladies drinking with them, meaning that Colton could get back to his beer, and Kitt could get back to the unwanted conversation.

“You ready, babe?” A man stepped up and put his arm around Sierra. He gave a typical bro nod toward Colton. Colton barely noticed him. Men never registered on his radar unless he knew them personally.

“Sorry, Colton” Sierra grabbed onto his arm. “But could you do me one more huuuge favor?” She blinked up at him, trying to be sexy even in front of her man.

Colton wanted to brush her off, but he was too far gone to change his mood. “What else can Colton Wade do for you?”

Leaning forward and pulling her crop top down, she shoved her breasts upwards. “Mind giving me an autograph?”

He laughed and looked back to his big brother, giving him a
can you believe this shit
look. Colton just wasn’t in the mood, which was a first. He’d signed his fair share of titties, and he’d enjoyed every one, even the older ladies that were on the downslide. There was only one pair stuck in his mind, though.

“I’m gonna have to politely decline.” He gave Sierra’s boyfriend a quick look, not interested in starting trouble.

Her sexy little smile turned into an unbecoming pout. “Are you serious?”

Colton nodded. He wanted to drop back down onto the stool across from Kitt and get back to the serious discussion. “As a heart attack.”

“Dude,” the boyfriend’s voice dropped in, “Just sign the goods.”

Colton couldn't hold back a laugh. “Look, I just wanna get back to my drink.” He turned to sit back down.

The boyfriend wasn’t having it. He grabbed Colton by the collar, and every bit of anger and frustration began to surge through the singer.

Kitt could see his brother’s eyes change. He knew Colton had a short fuse, and when Colt clenched his jaw and fist, Kitt stood up. His brother and the band had enough negative press, punching out a fan wouldn’t help shit. Kitt knew all of those things, but he knew his brother well.

Sierra’s boyfriend tried to pull Colton back, and Colton’s fist was already flying. Kitt moved hard and fast to grab his brother’s arm. “Don’t do it, little bro.”

Waiting and hoping, Kitt held Colton’s arm. Kitt was a workout fanatic, but Colton was giving him a run for his money.
Think about this,
Kitt thought, trying to give his brother a look that would calm him down.
That girl has him mixed up like he’s in a twister.
The music played on, and no one in the bar took notice, but it was like time stopped.

Sierra was everything wrong with his fans. Her loser boyfriend was no better. As his fist flew in what seemed like slow motion, Colton was hit with the hard realization that his fans acted that way because it was how he wanted them to act. He encouraged them to show their tits during his concerts, and he made no bones about how many fans got the “royal treatment”.

Even as Kitt held his brother’s arm, Colton’s anger and strength began to fade. He wanted Gracie more than anything in the world, and it was destroying him to be without her. It was destroying the public version of Colton Wade just as much as the private.

With a face that was steel hard but calm, Colton brushed down his arms. He looked at both Sierra and the man who had almost pushed him over the edge. “Really, I’m going to have to politely decline. If you’ll excuse me.”

Kitt’s hand still gripped Colton tight. Colton gave his brother a weak smile. Until Colton turned and dropped back onto his stool, Kitt stood by, ready to separate the men if it came to it.

“I’m good.” Colton nodded. “I’m good.”

Looking at the couple with disgusted expressions, Kitt shook his head. “It’s best that you just go on your way. Colton’s not gonna be signing any more autographs tonight.”

“Fuckin’ celebrities.” The boyfriend pulled Sierra away from the table.

Kitt sat down as Colton draining his glass. He didn’t stop until only a bit of foam remained at the bottom. Kitt didn’t say a word. Both men needed a second to cool off. After Colton poured the rest of the pitcher into his glass and half-drained that one, Kitt started back in. “Don’t care what you say, little bro. It’s written all over your face.” Kitt gestured to the Sierra and the girls who had practically thrown themselves a Colton. “That’s not the Colton I know. The old Colton would have done a hell of a lot more than just sign them melons. He’da left his mark all over that group. Ain’t nothing wrong with love, Colton, if that’s what you really want. The question is what you can do about it?”

Kitt had never really been much of a role model for Colton. He’d been in and out of rehab for years while Colton put The Guilty Party together. Kitt had kicked the habit for good, once he had some purpose. Most of the time, Colton felt like the old brother, and he wasn’t in the mood for any role reversal.

He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. “Kitt, when I need advice on hustling, I’ll come to you. When I need a fix, I’ll come to you. Since that day will never come, why don’t you mind your own fuckin’ business and do what you do best; try not to fuck things up.”

Even before the words came out, Colton regretted them. Between all the drinks and all the stress weighing on him, Colton wasn’t in a good place. He knew it. His brother knew it. Colton wasn’t the type to share his feelings, and Kitt wasn’t exactly Dr. Phil.

Pulling his trucker cap down low, Colton began to make his way through the crowd. The adoring hotties were a nice distraction, but Colton wasn’t in the mood for distractions. He wanted to drag himself back to the city hotel, dive into a bottle of SoCo, and fall into a dreamless, black sleep.
 

Fate wouldn’t let him, though. The second that he stepped through the door to the outside world, a punch landed square into his stomach. He hadn't seen it coming, and it took the wind from him hard. Colton barely stayed standing. As his eyes tried to adjust to the dark, a man wearing an idiot grin stood in front of him.
Aw fuck.
The asshole boyfriend.
 

Colton’s face twisted into a grin off his own; more of a rock bottom, laugh so you don’t cry grin. He opened his mouth but only a wheeze came out. Colton had a strong set of pipes, but even freedivers couldn't just brush off getting winded. He struggled to move past it and sucked air into his lungs.

“Shoulda just played ball, shithead. Now I gotta kick your ass.” The boyfriend danced around like he’d watched one too many Muhammad Ali fights. He was already tearing his flannel shirt off.

Colton shook his head, looking to just move past the guy and get to his truck. He hadn’t remembered any other dudes with the group, but now a semi-circle blocked his escape.
You kiddin’ me?

Looking back toward the bar, he saw that the circle had closed in around him and the asshole. He sighed, knowing he was gonna wake up in the morning with more than just a hangover paining him. Even once he put the boyfriend down, Colton was gonna get his share of blows; the crowd didn’t look like it was on Colton’s side.
Price of fame, I guess.
He corrected himself;
Nah, the price of
my
fame. These are the fans I’ve attracted. This is the life I’ve built.

The last thing Colton wanted was to see his face on the news for yet another bar fight. At first, he had put his years of living on the street to good use. He often came out the victor, the media often calling him a bully whether or not he started the fight.

Even after changing things up and letting the other guy win, it didn’t help his case. TMZ started calling the Wade brothers “Cowardly Colton and Kitt.” The names made his blood boil.

Colton was able to block and deflect the first few punches that the boyfriend threw. Colton caught the asshole in the jaw, but he didn’t have his whole weight behind the punch. Hoping it was enough to smack some sense into the dude, Colton didn’t turn the punch into an easy combination of two more. The boyfriend didn’t learn his lesson. Colton dodged most of the punches thrown his way, even with defeat in his heart. There were ample opportunities to counter, but he held his ground. Keeping his hands up to protect his face, Colton took another hard blow to the stomach. That one dropped him to all fours. He pushed himself up to his knees, his hands ready to defend from a kick.
Jesus, this guy’s not fucking around.

The kick came, but Colton grabbed the asshole by his ankle and twisted. Colton was done holding back. Anger, sadness, and self-loathing filled him, and this asshole just picked the wrong time to poke the bear. Standing, Colton threw the guy backwards and onto his ass in the dirt. As he stood up, he knew he shouldn’t sock the dumb fucker right in the face, but he was going to anyway. Sierra was staring at the two, probably wet over two men fighting for her. Colton wasn’t fighting for her, though. He was fighting for Gracie. He was fighting for that sweet girl who knew he could be a better man, even when he was kicking some hillbilly’s ass.