Torn to Pieces (The Boys of DownCrash #2) (new adult contemporary romance / rockstar romance) (17 page)

Derreck looked at me.

We stared in silence.

“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m not in pain...”

“I know that, babe,” Derreck said, his voice suddenly soothing.  “And because of that, we’re going on a date tonight.”

“A date?”

Derreck smiled.  He backed away and threw my phone on the table.  It hit and the screen lit up with Scarlett’s text showing.  I saw Scarlett added a frowning face at the end of her message.  She was probably driving, beating herself up for doing something wrong that really wasn’t that wrong.  It hurt that she moved out, sure, but I didn’t want to lose her over it.  Things had been fuzzy lately, but I thought time would work it all out.  Time always worked things out... unless, of course, time was stolen from you. 

I looked at Derreck as he took his plate to the kitchen, dropping it into the sink.  I checked the back of my shirt.  It was ruined.  I wasn’t going to bother trying to get the red sauce stain out of it. 

“You better get changed before we go out,” Derreck said.  “Looks like you got your period or something.”

I shook my head.  He was such an idiot. 

“Where are we going tonight?” I asked.

“Good question,” Derreck said.  “You know, being in town, I haven’t done anything fun yet.  I got settled with you, found a job, and I think tonight I’ll celebrate that.  And what better way than to go where everyone else is going...”

He smiled and I knew what he wanted to do. 

“... we’re going to see your buddies... what are they called again?  DownCrash?”

~17~

It should have been a fun night.  Scarlett was there, next to the stage, and when she saw me, she waved, saw Derreck, and decided not to come near me.  I couldn’t say I blamed her for not coming near us, but I wanted to at least get a chance to tell her that however things looked right then it had nothing to do with her moving out of the apartment. 

Derreck took me to the bar where he stood for a few seconds, eyeing a spot.  Two women sat next to each other, the one on the right leaning a little bit towards the other.  I saw Derreck make his move - not before checking both women out, I wondered if I was good enough for him which, in turn, made me angrily at myself for caring what Derreck thought of me.  He weaseled his way next to the woman, elbowing her as she lifted her drink.

“Fuck,” she said and looked at Derreck. 

Derreck had his -ready-to-strike eyes going.  “Fuck?  Is that how you talk?”

“Fuck you.  You spilled my drink.”

“No, I bumped you, which I apologize for.  This is spilling it...”

I grabbed his right wrist, but he used his left hand.  He smacked the woman’s drink from her hand, letting it spill and fall to the floor, the glass cracking.  The woman look shocked and ready to cry. 

“Come on, let’s find a new spot,” her friend said as she pulled at the woman.

They both stood and walked away, the woman staring at Derreck.  I knew that face.  That look of utter disbelief that a human could be so mean and be such an asshole for no reason what so ever. 

“There, now we have seats,” Derreck said. 

I sat down and as the bartender walked by, Derreck reached out and grabbed her arm.  She turned, ready to throw a drink at Derreck, but caught herself, remembering everyone was a paying customer.

“I need a towel,” Derreck said.  “Someone spilled a drink here.”

“Sure thing,” the woman said. 

The bartender served the drinks in her hand and gave Derreck a towel.  When he handed it back, he smiled at her with that flirty smile and batted his perfect blue eyes.  The bartender looked at me, waiting for a reaction, but I was too numb.  All I could think about was Tatum.  Knowing he was in the same building.  Backstage, probably getting ready, tapping his drumsticks against a table or a wall, thinking about the setlist.  Or maybe he was thinking about me. 

I blushed, feeling a little cocky, but then I felt Derreck’s eyes upon me.

“When do these guys play?”

“Little while,” I said.

Derreck rolled his eyes.  “You probably have it all memorized, don’t you?  Know where they play, when they go on, what songs...”

I shrugged my shoulders and didn’t respond.  I’d be setting myself up then.

We drank two beers and Derreck gazed upon the packed restaurant and bar.  I couldn’t be sure what he was looking at and I honestly didn’t want to know.  Calling me his girlfriend made me wonder if our promise of no cheating was back in place, but I feared asking that would only make me look like I was going to cheat on Derreck.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” I asked, hoping to strike up some kind of conversation with Derreck.  I figured if I was going to be stuck with him, tonight and forever, I might as well try to be civil with him.

“Yeah, I do.  Why?  Should I have cameras installed in the apartment?”

I shook my head.  “No.  I have work too.”

“Same place I bet.”

“Well, yeah.  I manage it.  They want me to buy...”

“That’s nice,” Derreck said, ending the conversation. 

The lights on the stage came on, testing different colors.  This caused some of the crowd to cheer, ready for another DownCrash show.  I should have been ready.  I should have been excited.  I should have been backstage.  With Tatum.  With Scarlett.  With Tripp and Logan, too.  I should have been...
there
.  In the moment.  In the surge of the storm that DownCrash created.

The lights in the bar and restaurant dimmed and finally turned off.

It was time.

My heart raced, like it always did for a show.  When the three figures took the stage, my heart pounded.  My mouth went instantly dry and I saw Tatum’s silhouette behind the kit. 

I hadn’t seen him since he left the parking lot of the apartment.

“What’s... going... on?” Tripp yelled into the mic. 

The crowd responded with a fury of screams.

I didn’t scream.

I wasn’t sure if there would be punishment if I screamed.

DownCrash started their first song.  The lights came on and I saw him.  I saw Tatum.  Playing behind the kit.  His drumsticks hitting the drums and cymbals.  His lips touching the mic as he sang during the first chorus.

He was beautiful.

He was hot.

He was sexy.

And he’d never be mine...

My heart switched from racing to aching.  Then again, it had been aching since the second I opened the door to my apartment and Derreck stood there.

The band in their normal fury of rock n’ roll, commanded the stage, the bar, and the restaurant with ease.  When Tripp spoke, everyone listened and cheered.  When Tatum kicked at the drums, either a part of the song or in line with what Tripp was saying. 

During a quick lull, Derreck leaned towards me and said, “These guys suck.  How could you like them?”

Of all the things I wanted to say, I held them back, my eyes on the stage.  My eyes, more importantly, stuck on Tatum.  He played like normal, which actually hurt me.  Why?  Because somewhere in my mind, the hopeless romantic wanted Tatum to be aching for me.  To be dying for me.  I wanted him to look like hell, miss some beats, and eventually quit everything in his life until I became part of it again. 

But that’s not how life worked, at least not how it worked for me.  I wasn’t ever part of something so romantic and never would be.  The closest I got to romance was when Derreck cooked or said something nice, but even then those moments were cut short because he would flip his switch and go off the wall shortly after. 

“Hey, how ‘bout we slow things down?” Tripp asked.  “We’re going to do something a little different and fun here.”

My interest was sparked.  I loved
different
and
fun
.  With DownCrash, everything seemed different and fun.  Not that I would know.  I had my chance to be with Tatum.  To go to the practices.  To be in the garage where the band practiced.  To go to that show with them. 

The regret pained me. 

Tripp turned and nodded. 

Tatum stood from the drums and more than a handful of women in the crowd began cheering and whistling. 

“You like Tatum?” Tripp yelled into the mic. 

More people cheered.

“You know, he doesn’t even have a single tattoo...”

Tatum pointed his middle finger at Tripp.  Tripp laughed.  Tatum took an acoustic guitar from off stage.  He put the guitar strap over his head as he walked towards Tripp.  I noticed Logan doing the same.

They were going to play acoustic.  Three guys and three acoustic guitars.

My heart melted...
so did my panties
.  It was the first time I had been turned on since Derreck showed up.  It felt good but it also felt wrong.  I hated the idea that out of everybody in the place, Derreck would be the one who was able to enjoy it. 

“No tattoos,” Tripp said, “but... he does have a piercing... or two...”

The crowd kicked up again and Tatum shook his head.  His tongue flicked at his lip ring, to emphasize that only one piercing was visible. 

I smiled, knowing where the other one was.

I wondered how many women in the crowd knew too, but I liked to pretend that I was the only one who knew.  Let it be my little, dirty secret. 

The three members of DownCrash all stood, holding acoustic guitars.  They plucked a few strings, strummed a few chords, and Tripp finally said, “Can we get a few damn stools here?”

The crowd laughed and a man rushed three stools on stage. 

They sat and readied themselves to play.

“Okay.  Let’s do this,” Tripp said.  “This song is called...”

Derreck leaned towards me, his hand on top of mine, squeezing extra hard.  “Where’s the other piercing?”

I didn’t hear the name of the song and I didn’t hear the first few chords being played for that song.  I saw the band playing, mostly focused on Tatum and how sexy he was.  Derreck’s question paralyzed me because this became one of those moments where I would be wrong no matter what I did.

If I ignored Derreck, I was wrong.

If I answered the question, I was wrong. 

The song continued and Derreck wasn’t going to let this go.

“Do you really want to make a fucking scene right now?” he growled in my ear.  “I’ll stop this damn show right now.”

I swallowed and shook my head.

His hand squeezed mine again, even harder.

It hurt.

“Tell me where the other piercing is,” he said. 

His voice was so cold, so mean.  It was the voice he could make that made me know for sure that he could hurt someone.  Not just with words or idle threats, but with his actions.  Maybe not even his bare hands, but the actions forced through his evil mind.

“Derreck, please,” I said to him.

“Please nothing,” he said.  “You have one more chance.”

The song moved into an explosive chorus, all three guys singing at once.  I could pick out Tatum’s voice with ease.  It made me feel okay until my eyes met Derreck’s.

“Fine,” I said.  “His nipple is pierced too, okay?”

“His nipple?” Derreck asked.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  His nipple?”

The chorus ended and the song slowed back down to the intro riffs.  Logan and Tatum strummed and Tripp took the lead riff.  Then Logan began to pluck the chords with Tatum strumming.  I hated that some of my attention was off the song. 

“Is that it?” Derreck asked.

“Yes.”

“He doesn’t have his dick pierced or something?”

Again, it was a losing question to answer.  I shook my head.

“You promise?”

“I promise,” I said.

I turned but Derreck still hadn’t let my hand go.  When I saw him stand, my heart sank.  I thought for a second Derreck was going to storm the stage and do something stupid.  But I knew better.  Derreck was intense, but I doubted he’d put himself in that kind of position.  He pulled at me, looking over his shoulder with a terrible smile.  The smile of heartbreaking intention. 

I stood and followed, Derreck taking me into the crowd.  I wanted to pull back, break away, and run.  I couldn’t face things like this.  Derreck wanted to get close to the stage.  He wanted to torture Tatum in any way possible.  Derreck bumped his way through the crowd, hitting people, apologizing, telling people that I was the biggest DownCrash fan in the world.  Anything to get people out of his way without confrontation.  I couldn’t believe that people bought into it and just moved out of the way.  Maybe they saw my face, thinking the pale, shocked look was because of the band.  When we reached the front of the crowd, Derreck pulled me in front of him.  His hands were then all over my body, holding me, rocking me, acting as though he actually cared about the song. 

He didn’t.

He cared about what was going to happen.