Repented (9 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

IT'S HARD TO SAY I DO, WHEN I DON'T

It was raining. Scratch that, it was fucking pouring buckets. We stood taking turns holding the door open for the poor roadies that were stuck carting in all the equipment. To make matters worse, a cold front had moved in. The heavy, black steel door felt like it weighed a ton, but every time we tried propping it open it would slam shut from the wind. When Austin came to relieve me, my fingers felt numb.

"Stacie's looking for you," he said.

"Thanks, man." He stood under the small awning trying his best not to get soaked as the rain kept coming down.

Making my way inside, I headed through the back of the venue towards the bar where Stacie stood smiling when she saw me. The mahogany bar expanded along the entire right side of the venue. Shelves were stocked with bottles of whiskey, vodka, rum, gin and everything in between. Plastic cups sat neatly stacked next to every tap. She tossed the rag she was using to wipe the counter down aside and lifted up the end to step out.

She pulled me into a strong hug. "Hey stranger!"

"Long time no see," I said looking down at her.

Her fiery red hair glowed in the light, and her blue eyes sparkled. I was a good head taller than her at my six-foot-two.

"Can I just say how excited I was to hear you guys were coming back to town! Come sit, you can tell me everything that's been going on."

We walked over to a couple of barstools at the end and took a seat. I honestly didn't feel like getting into the whole Bryn thing again. I knew I was going to have to explain at least a little of what went down, and why I wasn't wearing a wedding band. The last time we were here, I was in full wedding planning mode. Instead of getting into the whole Kennedy thing, I told her we just realized we were too different, and it wouldn't work out in the end. Stacie told me it was her loss and the female populations gain. I appreciated her not asking too many questions. She was good like that though, she never pried.

Putting her hand on my leg, she leaned closer to me. "Listen, the worse battle to have is between what you know and what you feel. Trust me, I've been there before. Where you know something is destined to fail in the crash and burn sense, but you feel like maybe you can salvage it, so you keep holding on for dear life. In the end, it always ends in a crash. In my opinion, you dodged a bullet."

"Part of me wishes I could go back to the day I met her and walk the hell away, but she helped me get sober, and I'm grateful for that. But you're right, it's for the best. I'm just going to focus on me for a while. If and when something else comes around, it will happen when it's meant to."

"That's a good attitude. I'm proud of you. You've grown up so much since when I first met you. And to think, you were the tamest out of all them!" Her eyes rolled as she laughed. "My mind is still blown that Jake Parker is now married with a family. I'll never forget the first time you guys played here."

It transported me back to seven years ago, we were finally starting to gain enough momentum that the label set us up for our first headlining tour.

"Louisville, you rock my fucking socks! Goodnight!" Jake screamed.

The crowd was screaming for more as lights dimmed. The crowd started to dissipate slightly, as we made our way off the stage. It was a humid night in mid-July.

"Who knew singing songs would get us this fucking far," Jake howled.

He was still riding high on his adrenaline rush coming from energy of the audience. We all were. It had been a long two years getting to this point. We were on our way to better days and growing our fan base more every day. Sweat was pouring down my face, as I made my way into the bathroom to splash some water on it. Rounding the corner, I pushed the door open only to find three girls hiding in there giggling.

"Do you know where Jake is?" A small framed brunette asked, not leaving much to the imagination with her provocative attire.

Rolling my eyes, I motioned my thumb out the door. They scattered, and a blonde kissed my cheek as she practically skipped to the main area that housed the lounge and dressing rooms. It was becoming almost normal to find stragglers waiting for us after shows. There was some venue security, but these girls had a way of working their T&A to their advantage. None of the guys minded, but I was beginning to feel left wanting something with more substance than one-night stands. I also thought that there may have been something wrong with me.

Splashing cold water on my face, I walked over to the towel dispenser and pushed the handle down to dispense the paper. The blonde left a lipstick print on my cheek. Using my hand, I tried rubbing it off with no avail. Dark circles were forming under my eyes, and I was debating whether I wanted to drink or head out to the bus to sleep. I pushed the door open to see the brunette straddling Jake and Blake playing tonsil hockey with the blonde. The other blonde was sitting in between them waiting for her turn. A redhead came in carrying a tray of drinks and started setting them down on the table. It was obvious she was feigning annoyance for their behavior. I'm sure this was a regular occurrence for her.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked me.

"Maybe just a seltzer with lime? I can come get it."

She smiled, and I followed her out to the now empty bar. I took a seat and wondered where Derek disappeared to. She grabbed a plastic cup, filling it with ice before making my drink. Her name was Stacie, and she was great at her job because she acted like it was just another day. She didn't fuss over our fame, or ask for autographs or pictures. Not that we minded, but in a way it was nice to just be Kevin for a little bit again.

She was asking where we were from and told me she thought we were good. The floors were scattered with trash and empty cups, even though there were ample garbage cans throughout the venue. She walked over to the edge of the bar and picked up a broom. Making her way out to the general admission area, she started making piles of trash. A man came out and handed her two envelopes. She folded one, putting it in her pocket and handed the other one to me.

"Your cut for the night." She winked.

Smiling, I took the broom from her and started playing air guitar on the broom as I helped clean the place up. After filling over a dozen contractor bags, I helped her carry them to the dumpster before making our way back to the lounge area. Jake had the brunette riding his cock and the blonde sitting on the top of the couch straddling his face. Stacie's eyes grew wide for a split second before she quickly regained composure and started cleaning up the area. Jake Parker had no shame.

"Over ten years of doing this and I don't think I'll ever get used to the groupies. I've probably seen more vaginas than a gynecologist," she shuttered.

I started bursting with laughter. "You've got a point."

Snapping back to the present, the stage was starting to transform. The backdrop was up, and they were busy setting up Tyler's drum kit. Even though the doors weren't scheduled to open for another three hours, a crowd was already lining up outside. Tonight was going to be a good night and an awesome kick off of the tour.

Zach

It felt almost surreal to be standing here with someone who I've idolized for years now. Jake has been mentoring me for the last few months, and I wanted to make sure that we proved we were worth taking a chance on. Peyton had been calling and texting me non-stop since yesterday. She was still pissed at me for ending things before I left, not that I could blame her. At the same time, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't getting distracted by girl problems. And honestly, I wanted to enjoy the full tour experience without feeling guilty.

I spent a majority of my life trying to please other people, mostly my parents. My father, a successful investment banker and my mom a prominent divorce attorney practically lost it when I said I wanted to pursue music. They said it was a hobby, not a career. I knew enough about the industry that it wasn't going to happen overnight, but I also knew that I needed it in my life. Singing was more of a need than a want. When I turned down my acceptance to their alma mater, Brown University, they essentially disowned me. This was just as much about proving to myself that we had what it took, as it was sticking it to them that music was more than just a passion of mine.

Most people would probably say I fit a pretty stereotypical rock star bill. At eighteen, I began working on filling my arms with tattoo sleeves. Peyton finished them about a month ago. Each piece represented a struggle or a triumph of some sort. I wasn't going to let anyone or anything hold me back.

My profile card would look something like this:

Name: Zachary Michael Bailey (Zach)

Height: 6'1"

Hair: Jet black, short on the sides, longer on the top for a perfect 1950's side comb.

Eyes: Gray/Blue

Favorite look: Jeans, a fitted black tee, motorcycle boots, and a hoodie.

Favorite drink: Rum and Coke

Personality: The charmer

Don't get the wrong idea, I'm a nice guy, in general. There's a lot to say about being a good person, but I also don't let people walk all over me. At the end of the day, it's about being able to look yourself in the mirror and be happy with the person looking back at you. I was one happy motherfucker. Some may say cocky, but it was more about me knowing what I have to offer the world.

After all the equipment was hauled in and set up; I headed to the bar to get a drink. I ordered a rum and coke and took in the empty, vast space that would hopefully soon be filled with fans. Kevin was at the other end of the bar talking to a redheaded bartender. Mine was a hot, blonde wearing short shorts and a tight white tank top with a black bra.

Putting the cup to my lips and taking a sip, I appraised her further. She looked like she would be fun for the night. "What's up, sexy?"

She rolled her big blue eyes at me."It's not gonna happen hot stuff."

"Wow, burned. You didn't even let me introduce myself." I ran a hand through my hair and tried to keep her attention.

She wasn't holding back any punches."You're not my type. Listen, as much as I admire your attempt to charm the pants off of me, it's not going to happen sweetie. Don't fret, I'm sure there will be a line of groupies waiting for you after the show." Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Oh, so that's how she wanted to play it. I was up for the challenge, or at least to play a little and see if I could charm her over. I was going for the passive-aggressive tactic. "Well, I was going to give you a nasty look, but I see you already have one." I laughed to myself, taking another sip.

"Excuse me," she gasped. Not missing a beat, "come back when your IQ exceeds your age."

"I was accepted into Brown, so I resent that statement."

She sighed and placed a hand on her slim hip. "Your parents must be so proud."

"No, they wanted me to follow in their footsteps, so not really. I'm Zach, in case you care."

"Viv, and no not really."

I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet and left it on the bar. There was something about a good challenge that I practically got off on. I loved women, but damn they could be complicated creatures at times.

"Well Viv, thanks for the drink and delightful conversation," lifting my cup in salute I stood and walked away without looking back. There was a ninety-nine percent chance she'd be riding me after the show.

The guys were all huddled around a sofa set up in the dressing room. The excitement was palatable. We had played a ton of gigs and even opened for some well-known bands, but this was the first time we were going to have our time to shine. We had new songs and a backing from one of the top bands on the charts right now. One word, unstoppable.

About an hour later, Jake came to grab us and tell us we had five minutes before we were supposed to be on stage. The guys and I rounded up and made our way down the narrow hallway that led to the stage door. Putting five hands one on top of the other, we were all in. Sliding my lucky glasses on my face, I was the first to step out. I picked up the mic and it felt like going home.

"Look at this good-looking bunch of motherfuckers," I yelled. "You assholes ready to get guilty?"

The venue was packed from wall to wall. Bright lights overhead made it hard for me to see the bar, but I was able to catch a glimpse of Viv watching. It was the only reaction I needed to step up my game. She was mine tonight.

We started out with our song, Cure My Tragedy. Kevin wrote it; the song was heavy and deep and quickly became one of my favorites to sing. Our set list had our top five songs and a sixth on backup. This tour was all about leaving lasting impressions and building our following. High gear, balls to the wall, all in, kicking ass and taking names we were going to do just that.

Throughout the show, I kept glancing over at Viv only to catch her staring back. Yep. I was winning her over. I put my motherfucking heart and soul into that performance, and not just for her. This was my, our, chance to shine. Six songs later, we moved off the stage to make way for Battlescars.

After chugging a water in three gulps, I wiped my face off with a towel before making my way out the bar. I was ready to see Ms. Viv. She wasn't kidding about getting flocked with groupies, but she did work here, after all. I ignored all of them, even if there were a few that I wouldn't mind being a conquest. All I could think about was her. Her plump lips painted in a soft pink. I wanted her tight body under my fingertips. My dick twitched in my pants, as she placed a rum and Coke down in front of me.