What was I talking about? The point of the non-exclusive rule was so he could find somebody else and move on from trying with me, essentially saving my heart from being crushed.
“Evenin’.” My head snapped up at the static voice drifting through the speakers. What the hell? “I’ve been asked to do somethin’ pretty damn special by my brother, so I figured I couldn’t say no.” There he stood on stage looking sexier than sin on a sick; his jacket gone, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top showing the colorful ink on his chest, the shirt sleeves rolled up just below his elbows and his hair looking like he’d been nervously running his hands through it, made him absolutely lickable.
“Before I start, I just want to say you, my brother, are one lucky son of a bitch, and in case you missed the memo, Scar, welcome to the family, darlin’.” My God, his voice set a fire inside of me that I had no chance of putting out; it was raspy and deep. It was the epitome of dirty sex and it made my girly bits sit up and take notice.
Clearing his throat, he stepped back and nodded to the band that I hadn’t seen entering the stage. Fuck me running! He was going to sing? I was so screwed. By the time he was done, I’d be a pool of jelly on the floor.
The music started and the lights dimmed slightly. The guitars began to whisper across the crowd kissing our ears with sweet sound. Each pluck of the strings made my heart beat faster, so by the time the drums kicked in, my body was already pumping in time with each slap of the sticks.
That’s when it happened.
Trip opened his mouth and started singing; it was like the earth was pulled out from under me, and his voice was the only thing holding me up.
“Angel Without Wings” from Saving Abel was flowing from his mouth like an extension of him. His eyes were tightly closed, his face conveying the words that rumbled from his chest. Holy hell, he was gorgeous. A light sweat broke across my skin when he bent slightly at the waist belting out the lyrics like he meant them. Not like he was just singing, but he really meant them, which was ridiculous in itself. I mean, this was Trip we were talking about. He wouldn’t ever have feelings like that for anyone. But by God, I wanted him to feel that. I wanted him to feel that for me, even if he did break me in the end. He just dripped sex and bad decisions up there; I would even go so far as to say he should have been a freakin’ rock star; he was that good. He even had the cocky attitude down, and of course, the playboy ways. I wanted to get up there and lick him head-to-toe.
Either way, I had to stop and remind myself he wasn’t mine to keep.
Chapter Twelve
Trip
The bass was thumping through the soles of my boots, the sweat running down my back making my shirt stick to my skin and the adrenaline rush through my veins. The words resonated so damn true. Teeny was everything I always thought I didn’t want but needed all at the same time.
I was going out on a limb in the hopes she’d wise up and hear what I was singing to her. This wasn’t for anyone but her. Mace and Scar had actually given me the idea seeing as I hadn’t sung since my band split up about five years back.
Nervous was an understatement before I stepped up on the stage. I was sure I’d puke but the moment the music kicked in and washed over me. I was in my own world; the only thing I could see was her.
Angel, that was Teeny in a nutshell; she was my angel. She walked around with her barriers up, but I could see that light beaming from the tiny cracks in her armor. I just needed to get close enough for her to let me in. She brought out something in me that I didn’t even know existed. She made me want to wipe my slate clean and start over.
I would start over for her.
I finally understood what Mace meant when he said Scarlett made him want to be a better person. All this time, I had convinced myself that people lost their hopes and dreams, changed themselves when they cared about somebody.
I was wrong.
I cared for her. I cared about her and I cared enough to know I wanted…something more.
As the music faded out, I looked out at the crowd hoping to catch her face and find out if she heard what I was saying, but she wasn’t in sight. Feeling deflated and stung, I put that microphone on the closest speaker, and wiped my sweat-slicked face with the bottom of my shirt. I told myself it didn’t matter.
Screw it, if she hasn’t figured it out by now, what the hell is the point?
Chapter Thirteen
Teeny
Making my way over to him where he was stepping down from the stage, I was taken back by the octopus hands of his date as she snaked up to him oohing and aahing, just about climbing all over him with praise, tits and no class.
Twirling one finger around a lock of hair and running the other up and down Trip’s chest, she smirked over at me, her skanky red nails standing out against the stark white of his dress shirt.
“Is this the chick you knocked up?” Stripper Barbie snarkily asked when I reached them.
Dumbfounded, I looked from Trip to her and back again. I never had an issue standing up for myself, but with one simple sentence, I felt crushed. It stung. That’s exactly what I was…just the chick he knocked up.
Trip’s silence only served to make me feel betrayed. I had nothing I could even say to that statement, and he clearly wasn’t going to defend me. Without another word, I spun on my heel and rushed out, only stopping when I stumbled to rip my shoes off.
Getting out of there as fast as I could, ignoring the strange looks I was getting, I burst out the front doors.
The sky opened up and cold wet droplets bucketed from the dark black skies. Bolts of lightning lit up the sky, followed by cracking thunder. Goosebumps broke out over my skin. Jealousy, anger and hurt radiated from my body.
I was pissed. Pissed at him and his whore date. Pissed that he was moving on. And pissed at myself twice over the first for encouraging it and the other for not giving enough of a damn to do something about it when I had the chance.
Unable to hold it back, I flung my stupid heels as hard as I could, just wanting to hurt something. Landing with a thud on the wet ground, I stood there in the pouring rain contemplating how I’d managed to screw everything up so royally. My dress stuck to my body, and I began to shake, perhaps from the water running over me or maybe it was the anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Trip’s voice penetrated the rain. I could only just make out the sound of his shoes in the heavy rain.
“Fuck off!” I screamed spinning around to face him. Trip completely ignored me and stomped closer, rivulets of water coming down his face.
“You need to get your fucking head straight. That was bullshit!” he ground out roughly.
“Don’t you dare come to me talking about bullshit! Don’t you fucking dare!” I couldn’t tell what was louder the storm or the blood rushing in my ears.
“You had no reason to be pissed at me. None, Teeny. I’ve bent over backwards for you, for our kid, for us and you still aren’t getting it.” A loud crack of thunder sounded somewhere close to us.
“Oh, I get it! I get it loud and clear. Once again, you gotta have some whore in my face. You just can’t not have some bimbo at your beck and call to suck your dick!“
His already mad expression turned furious. “What the fuck do you want from me? You want me to keep begging at your feet for crumbs? Is that it? You want me to be waiting in the wings for the next time you feel like making a mistake, or getting caught up in the moment? You asked for this, and then you get pissed when I do it. You want something I can’t be, Teeny. I’m not a fucking lap dog!”
He couldn’t be further from the truth. I did want what he was. I just didn’t want to wind up broken and damaged when he got tired of me and my shit.
My stomach hurt seeing him with the Barbie wannabe on the dance floor. I didn’t want it to hurt. I didn’t want any of my body to react to him in any way shape or form. I didn’t want to want him as much as I did.
“I don’t want anything from you! I don’t want you! Just leave!” I screamed as a bolt of lightning lit the sky above us. “Turn the hell around and go back to your whore Trip.”
“You know what? I think I’ll do just that. I don’t understand you. I thought I was okay with this thing between us. I thought I could make you see and change your mind.” He gestured between us with his hand. “This is not okay. None of it is. I’ll still be around, mark my words, Teeny. I’ll still be around because that’s my kid too, but me trying to please you is fucking done.” With that, he turned around and left me standing in the rain. My stomach had now dropped and I again cursed myself for caring about what he did, who he did and him in general.
“Fuck!” I screamed into the rain thinking briefly how perfect it was. I was standing in the middle of a shit-storm. No matter which way I looked, there was danger.
Turning to go back into the building, I saw a familiar shadow move quickly in the darkness, accompanied by a tall slim figure. Trip, he was leaving. With her. Tears of frustration streamed down my face, my nails digging into my hands close to breaking the skin. The rain was coming down harder than before flooding the ground around me and running off my cold skin in streams.
“Teeny, sweetheart, come inside, please,” Remy called out, “Just come out of the rain, honey. You’ll get sick,” he coaxed when I didn’t move.
I took the short walk back to the front entrance where he stood waiting with an outstretched hand, the rain masking the tears that were no closer to slowing down. “It’ll be okay, babe. He’s just mad. You’re both just mad right now. Let him cool off,” he rumbled into my hair once he’d tucked me into his side.
Nodding, I held on tight to his suit jacket trying to hold back the sniffles. “I was nasty to him. God, Rem, I was so nasty. I pushed him to it.” He moved around a little before my wet body was covered with something dry and soft.
“Shhh, it’s alright. Just let it out,” he soothed.
I took a deep breath and was assaulted with his smell. Blinking back more tears, I looked to my shoulders only to find it was Trip’s suit jacket draped over me. For some reason unknown to me, this started another bout of crying.
“Come on. Let’s get you home.” Home? Home was Trip’s place and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to witness what was no doubt going on there. I didn’t know if I could handle that, but I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. An idea struck. I’d stop there, get some clothes and then go back to my apartment. I may have been staying with him, but I’d kept my apartment; I just had no clothes there. Yes, that’s what I’d do. Clothes then home. I would have somebody pick up all my crap from Trip’s tomorrow. Hell, I’d pay somebody to pick it all up if I had to. Enough was enough. Living under the same roof as him was only serving to confuse my weary heart and conflicted head even more. It was time to go home, build a life that would work for the baby and me, and let him … go. Was that even the right word for it?
“Okay,” I hiccupped letting Remy guide me forward to his car stopping for a second to pick up my ruined satin heels.
