Toxic (Addiction #1) (41 page)

“It’s only nine in the morning.”

“Yeah, but this was three hours ago. I’m seriously nervous.”

Maisy couldn’t think about their conversation anymore because all she could picture was Rook, alone somewhere, dealing with his inner demons on his own.
 

She went to the bathroom, but not before she grabbed some clothes to throw on. She brushed her teeth, threw her hair up in a high ponytail, put on an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and leggings and went out to the front of the bus.
 

Kaid smiled up at her. “Good morning, baby girl. We didn’t wake you did we?”

Maisy shook her head no but then asked Landon, “Which way did he go?”

Landon looked at her quizzically. “Who?”

“Rook, Landon, which way did he go?” she asked, as she pulled on her UGGs.

“Maisy, are you sure…”

“Shut the hell up, Kaid,” Maisy cut him off. “Which way, Landon?”

“Toward the river behind the arena.”

Maisy was barely able to say thank you as she left the tour bus. She heard Kaid swear, but she didn’t care. She didn’t need his brotherly protection, she needed to find Rook. She hated that she left him to face his demons alone, especially since she knew how that felt. He confided in her about his past and she could only imagine the kind of nightmare he woke up to.
 

She was still hurting from the way he acted, but she couldn’t keep herself away. He owned her, just like she owned him. She clasped her necklace in her hand and walked toward the river, looking around franticly for Rook.
 

She kept picturing him harming himself or giving into his old vices; alcohol and drugs. She didn’t like the way Landon talked about Rook’s reaction after a nightmare and if she could help prevent him from slipping into a dark abyss, she would, even if it meant putting her feelings aside for a second. She would do anything for Rook, absolutely anything.
 

Maisy had no clue where she was; in her frantic state of mind while she was looking for Rook, she found herself completely lost. A couple of wrong turns and she was now in a back alley that had no exit. Where the hell was she? She walked back out of the alley and tried to listen for the river but didn’t hear anything.
 

Turning right, she listened intently as she thought she heard the faint strum of a guitar. Her feet pounded against the pavement just as her heart pounded against her chest. She didn’t know why she was so frantic to find Rook, but for some reason, she knew she needed to be with him. She felt him need her.
 

She turned the corner of a brick building that she now realized was the arena and saw a weeping willow tree next to the water. A breeze picked up some of the dangling branches, giving her a glimpse of a dark figure she knew was Rook.
 

Relief flowed through her chest as she walked toward him. For some stupid reason she thought she was going to find him dead or drugged out. The agonizing thought brought on a bout of nausea that subsided before she parted the leaves and entered the sanctuary of the tree.
 

Taking a deep breath, she walked in and saw Rook in a pair of his tight jeans, a v-cut shirt and his hair pushed to the side, leaning up against the tree and playing his guitar. It was a tune she hadn’t heard before, but it was beautiful.
 

He didn’t look up at her when he said, “How did you find me?”

“I have no clue,” she responded, not knowing what else to say now that she was standing next to him.
 

His demeanor was cold and stand offish. She instantly regretted going to find him because he clearly didn’t want to be found. She at least expected him to look at her when she got to him, but he kept his gaze trained on the river as he picked away at his guitar.
 

“Why did you come?”

Maisy took a deep breath and swallowed her pride. “I felt like you needed me.”

He still didn’t look at her; he just continued to look out at the river. The nausea that she was able to tamp down a couple of seconds ago came roaring back as she tried to think of the best escape route without embarrassing herself. She clearly wasn’t wanted.
 

“You were right to let me go last night. I’m no good for you, but you keep coming back. Why is that? You some kind of masochist?” his tone was almost cruel, the way he talked to her.
 

She knew he was hurting, whatever he dreamt last night was eating away at him and he was taking it out on her. She wasn’t particularly fond of being someone else’s punching bag, but Rook was different. He needed someone who would listen to him, feel with him, hurt with him.
 

Knowing she was only going to, once again, cause herself more pain, she sat in front of him on the ground and blocked his view of the river.
 

“Tell me about your dream.”

When he made eye contact with her, fury laced his features as he figured out Landon must have told her what happened that morning.
 

“Leave,” was all he said, as he went back to strumming his guitar.
 

He could have slapped her in the face and she wouldn’t have been more hurt. She weighed her options; she could take the easy way out and just leave and forget about him and what they shared or she could stay, torture herself a little bit more and help the hurting soul that sat in front of her.
 

Her need to help people won out. She really must be a masochist, she thought to herself as she scooted closer toward him, grabbed his guitar from his grasp and set it to the side.
 

Rook blew out a frustrated breath, brought his knees to his chest and rested his elbows on his knees as his hands took a hold of his head. He was wearing his Chuck Taylors that had seen better days and his hair was extremely unruly, most likely from him running his hands through it out of frustration. He looked so incredibly vulnerable, so she got right next to his knees and lifted his head.
 

His eyes were bloodshot, not from being high, this was different, as if he had been crying. Maisy’s heart beat out of her chest from the thought of Rook crying to himself under this expanse of a tree. The thought nearly broke her in half.
 

“Maisy, please just leave,” he said, defeated now.
 

“No. You can’t push me away. I’m here for you. If you don’t want to talk about your dream then we don’t have to, but I want to at least keep you company.”

Rook shook his head. “I don’t understand you. Why do you keep torturing yourself? I know what I said last night, but you were right to let me go; just let me go, Maisy.”

“I can’t. You buried yourself deep inside me. As much as you hate to believe it, I care about you, Rook and I want you for all your inadequacies and fucked up traits.”

His eyes glistened as he looked up at her. “We’re killing each other, you know that? We’re too jealous, too fucked up in the head and carry too much baggage to make it work between us. I can’t stand when another man talks to you, let alone looks at you. I can’t control the jealous rage that runs through my body when you’re talking to someone else and I can’t control my reactions because of it. I want to hurt you at times and other times I can’t breathe unless you’re near me. This can’t possibly work.”

A tear slid down Maisy’s cheek as she thought about Rook’s extremely truthful words. They really were slowly killing each other and it was only the beginning of their relationship. Would they be able to survive if they continued? One thing Maisy knew for sure was she couldn’t survive without him. It hurt too damn much.
 

“It has to,” Maisy said, as she wiped away another tear. “It just has to. I can’t be without you, no matter how much you hurt me, I can’t be without you.”

“Just let me go, Maisy. Please.”

“No.”

Maisy pushed his legs down and placed herself on his lap so her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms encompassed his neck. She forced him to look at her. His eyes were tired and worn, as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
 

“I don’t know what’s worse, me being away from you or me being with you. They both hurt and they both cause me tremendous pain, but one thing is for sure, I can’t stay away from you. You own me.”

***

He didn’t deserve her; he needed to cut her loose, but he couldn’t. He was only going to keep having dreams, he was going to keep making mistakes and he was going to keep being an ass, but God he couldn’t be without her and her beautiful brown eyes, long golden hair and sweet pink lips.
 

The moment he saw her on stage at The Tavern, he should have quit the band then and walked away because he would have saved her the pain that he put her through. He was a dipshit thinking he could stay away, thinking he could push her away and save her from his wrath. She was stronger than that, stronger than he would ever be.
 

He needed her. Just her being near him, under the tree, eased the pain that was taking over his body. She erased the demons that were clawing to take him over; she helped him forget. He knew that he could destroy her, but in fact, she was the card holder; she could make or break him and she didn’t even know it. She didn’t know the kind of power she possessed over his body.
 

Thoughts of what she could do to him were detrimental and he prayed every day that she would never use the power she had over him. Last night, she used some of her power, she cut him off and sent him packing. If it wasn’t for the fact that she put on his necklace, he would have found himself in a gutter, gripping a bottle of Jack and praying for his time to leave the fucked up world he lived in.
 

Leaning his forehead against hers he whispered softly, “I don’t deserve you, but I thank whoever is up there every day that you’re in my life.”

Stroking the back of his neck with her thumb, she brought his head closer and closed her lips over his. He brought her in tighter from the intimate contact she was giving him, another thing he was grateful for. He had kissed many women in his life, but he had never been kissed like Maisy kissed him. She put her whole body into her kiss and gave herself over to him. She had so much trust in him.
 

“Give me the chance to love you,” Maisy whispered.
 

“I don’t know if I can. I don’t know what love is.”

“Neither do I, but what I feel for you has to be the start.”

Rook spun Maisy so her back was now on the ground and he hovered over her. Her eyes gleamed as she looked up at him with those brilliant brown eyes of hers. Her hair was pinned to the top of her head, but there were a few strands that framed her face. He pushed aside one of the strands as he looked at perfection, his edgy angel, the one person who would be the death of him.
 

“You’re gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous.” Rook bent down and kissed her on the mouth as his hand gripped her side for dear life because fear knocked at the back of his head, telling him if he let go, she would be gone forever.
 

“You going to be okay?” she asked, as he pulled away from her lips.
 

“Now I am. I’m so sorry baby for hurting you. Whenever, I’m an ass, please remember that you hold me around your neck, that you own me and you mean the world to me. You mean everything to me, Maisy. I’m so fucking dependent on you, I need you to breathe.”

“Will you try for me? Will you try to come to me before you blow up? Promise me, promise me you will try.”

“I promise.” Rook kissed Maisy again, but this time light and sweet so he could really taste her.
 

“Will you tell me about your dream?”

“Not now, boo. I just want to kiss you and hold you. I want to feel your skin on mine, just to make sure that what I’m holding in my arms is not imaginary, what I feel for you in my heart is real.”

Maisy nodded her head as Rook gathered her up in his arms and stripped their clothes so they could feel their skin touching, feel their souls connect and bask in the fact that they were together, what they had was real. What they had was fucked-up, crazy messy but it was real.
 

Chapter 20

“This is your rack, Willow,” Quinn called out, as she pushed a rack of clothing toward Willow.
 

They had a photo shoot with Shattered Souls that would be appearing in
Rolling Stone
magazine and everyone besides the actual bands was on edge. Pete was running around with his tablet, yelling at people; Quinn was shoving racks of clothing at band members and the photographer was blotting his face with a towel talking about how much he was “schvitzing.”
 

The boys were all lounging around in director’s chairs, not having to go through the massive amount of hair and make-up that Maisy and Willow had to go through, and they were joking around while lounging in their sweats because, heaven forbid, they should wrinkle their clothes.
 

There were two backdrops for the photo shoot. One was a white brick wall with black flooring, the contrast between the two was almost startling. Willow took a look at her wardrobe and figured the red outfits that were scattered amongst the racks were meant for that backdrop. The other backdrop looked like an old barn wall, weathered wood and crates of different sizes scattered everywhere. Willow didn’t quite understand what the magazine wanted to come from the photo shoot, but the bands were going with it.