The Deception series boxset: FaCade, Cadence, Beneath Innocence (58 page)

“You do look lovely as always,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.

Greg follows behind us as usual; this was something Trey had gotten used to by now although he made it clear he thought it unnecessary and didn’t quite understand why I would need a bodyguard. He didn’t know about anything I’d been through and I planned to keep it that way.

“I have a surprise for you.” He grins and his white perfect teeth gleam at me.

He’s beautiful. His perfect face is completely symmetry, the perfection of it almost nauseating. He is tall and athletic and any mothers dream choice for their child, and yet he did nothing for me in regards to chemistry but he was safe, which was everything I needed.

“Okay, I can’t wait.” I reply with fake enthusiasm.

MY INSIDES START CHURNING AS
saliva begins to flood my mouth. Shit, I’m going to barf. I fight the covers I’m twisted up in and stumble from the bed, almost knocking myself out on the bedside table. I’m stark naked and now kneeling on a freezing cold tiled bathroom floor hurling into a toilet basin.

I can hear music playing in the background to my vomit show and a groggy moaning coming from Kimberly. “OH FUCK!” She bellows, making me wince. My head was sensitive and every slice of noise felt three times louder than it actually was.

I pull myself to a standing position, holding on to the basin for support and look at the reflection in the mirror staring at me. Shit, the black lines under my eyes make me look ill, red blood vessels in my eyes give me away as being hangover.

“We’re late, oh god!” Kimberly squeals, running around the hotel room gathering her clothes, her bare ass tormenting me every time she bends down. I walk over to her and grab her around the waist but she smacks my hands away. “Jens seriously we need to go, I go on stage in ten freaking minutes.”

Oh shit, I grab my cell and grimace at the thirty seven missed calls. Fuck! Shit!

“Do you want me to go?” A voice from the bed murmurs, making me jump a foot in the air. Who the hell was she?

“Yes!” Kimberly barks at her. A naked brunette shimmies from the bed, she’s petite and looks young, great.

“Who is that?” I whisper to Kimberly. She glares at me and pushes my shoulders.

“That’s the girl from the lobby bar who you took a liking to and asked her to join us.”

I look over at the girl now smiling up at me like I’m some God. “It was the best time of my whole life,” she beams.

“How old are you?” I ask holding my breath.

“Twenty three.” She replies fidgeting.

“You checked her ID last night Jens before you even bought her a drink. Now can we go?” Kimberly groans. Thank fuck my drunken ass can still be somewhat responsible because I don’t even remember meeting her last night.

Clothes hit my face and then fall at my feet. “Get dressed.”

Fists hammering at the hotel door gain the attention of the fuming Kimberly and the thumping in my temples. I notice the brunette still standing there gazing at me. I cautiously smile at her and she blurts, “Can I have an autograph before I have to go?”

I look at her and then the messy bed. “Fucking me wasn’t enough?” I joke.

Her face burns red. “Oh we didn’t . . . you didn’t. You made me and your girlfriend do stuff.” She shrugs. Kimberly got it on with another woman and I can’t remember it? That’s karma.

“You motherfucker, where the hell have you been?” Kenny bellows.

I push past him into my dressing room. “I’m here, what’s the problem?” I grit out.

“You look like fucking shit and Kimberly was late. They used a fucking stand in for her. You’re not just fucking up your life here Jenson.”

“She’s a big girl, I don’t force her to be with me. Fuck her and fuck you.”

“Oh that’s freaking perfect asshole.” Kimberly chose that moment to walk in. I can’t handle this shit. I made this band, without me there would be no concert to perform at so why was I getting grief?

“Get the fuck out so I can shower and change and when it’s me who doesn’t turn up you can bitch me out but until then get off my case.” I bark and slam the door to the shower room.

God it was like being a teenager all over again.

The shower trickles over me, washing away the night I can’t even remember. I’m acting foolish, an utter dick. The sensible Jenson knows this and wants to wake the fuck up from this pity party for one but the alcohol and drugs are too easy an option to take, an easy escape from my own head . . . my own heart.

The shower wakes me up a little but I need a pick me up and I have no stash left.

I slip into my clothes and hunt down Drake who I find comforting a distraught Kimberly. Her bands music echoes from the walls and bring the stadium alive without her.

“They won’t let me play Jenson, what if they kick me from the group? This is all I have, all I am.” She sobs. How is this my fault?

“They won’t kick you from the group, calm down.” I try and comfort her but her angry eyes almost flay me alive with pure intent alone. “Drake, I need a little something.” I avert my attention to him instead.

“You’re unbelievable.” Kimberly huffs at me, her eyes blood shot with black makeup crap smeared everywhere. She pushes past me with a shoulder nudge and storms off into a room out of sight. I don’t have time for her tantrums. I’m jittering because I need a fucking hit and when the buzz leaves me, all the shit I have done likes to play with my mind. Killing someone is easy in the height of rage and I have no sympathy or regrets for the lives I took but it doesn’t stop the graphic images taunting you afterwards or the screams haunting your dreams. I wasn’t made for murder, beneath all the hate and need for vengeance was still Jenson, a man that just wanted to play music, love a good woman and be a good and loyal friend to the men he grew up with and saw as brothers.

“You should treat her better man, she’s a good girl and she loves your ass.”

I flinch from his words. I have no place in my life or heart for love. Blue demolished any chance for me to love again. Kimberly was a good girl for what I needed but more than that and no thanks.

“I asked for a hit not advice dickhead, pick us out a couple of groupie sluts for the night as well, I need to cut Kimberly loose.”

A little bag of white dust to take away the unsettled feeling creeping back into my stomach, the lonely ache in my soul and the dark memories crawling out to plague me.

Quarter bottle of Jack to take the hyper edge off the cocaine high.

And I was ready to take the stage and do what I do.

“Beneath Innocence. Beneath Innocence. Beneath Innocence.”
The crowd scream, igniting the blood in my veins. I look around at my band members, each one of them more than a member, more than friend’s .They are my family and the worry in their eyes looking back at me makes me want to escape higher. I wasn’t used to being the person people worry about. I wasn’t the fuck up, I was the guy who pushed us, I was the friend who was there if you needed him, I was the guy that gave a shit about the women he fucked but not anymore. I was slipping out of myself and didn’t have the strength to claw my way back in. The buzz was all that mattered, taking away every other fucked up feeling there is.

The intro chimes and I take the mic.

“Blood rain pouring down in crimson water I am found,

I’m slipping underground.

Is this who I am?

Is this who I am?

You gave me something I can’t breathe without,

I’m dying with you and I can’t cut you out.

I feel the itch, I feel your tug.

For you I’m powerless, your loving’s a drug.

Is this who I am?

Is this who I am?

Blood on my hands, scars on my soul,

Ash in my heart, am I even a man?

Is this who I am?

Is this who I am?

I slice until I see red, consumed in black, loving blue, loving blue.

Love, lust, vengeance and death,

I feel it all for you, I seek it all for you, I am it all for you.

With no one to catch me I’m falling like a stone.

Every single road I take I’m alone.

Is this who I am?

Is this who I am?”

Thunderous fans singing back your lyrics is a therapeutic feeling in the moment, on the stage thriving from their energy, the love they felt for me. They embrace my pain and roar it back at me with fists clenched and feet stamping in support but as the music stops and the lights come on, the crowd disperses and I’m still there, surrounded by band members and roadies but suffering alone. How can it be this hard to move on? How can I still feel responsible and guilty over what happened and why is it that all I want to do is wrap her in my arms and love her, heal her?

“Jens.” I turn to Drake calling my name, he has a stupid ass grin on his face and he’s bouncing up and down, waving me over like a kid being told they can have ice cream. I hand my guitar over to Jamie one of the roadies.

“What?”

“Wait until you see what I have for us.” He beams, his pupils huge and swallowing the deep green coloring of his usual soft gaze.

“What you on?” I ask him and gain a laugh.

“What am I not on brother, don’t worry I have some for you too.” He rummages around in his pocket and pulls a bag free then drops two blue pills into my palm.