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

By the time I saw Scarlett, I started to run and didn’t stop until I almost collapsed into her arms.

“Whoa, Maggie, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said.  “So many people out there...”

“I know!  Tripp told me he passed out like a thousand flyers and had friends tell friends.”

“A thousand flyers?” I asked.  “When did he have time for that?”

“I sort of... went to his classes to help him out.”

“You took notes for your boyfriend?” I teased.

“Shut up,” Scarlett said. 

We laughed and I could see the look in Scarlett’s eyes.  She would do anything for Tripp. Literally anything.  That’s what she told me - usually twice a day - and that’s what she told me happened when I caught her kissing Tatum.  It was hot to think about being with a band, being able to enjoy and even share, but I wanted to be the one in the middle of that sensual storm. 

Ugh.

I hated myself for getting jealous.

Each time I looked at Scarlett, my heart battled itself.  Part of me wanted to see Scarlett, my roommate.  The good girl I had always known.  The girl who found love in the darkest place, laced with pain, filled with regret, yet somehow made it work.  Part of my heart then wanted to twist and scream, hating that she got Tripp, because I wanted my savior to come rescue me. 

But I would never... not even Tatum.

Nobody wanted to deal with me.

“Come on,” Scarlett said, “let’s go see the band.”

She pulled and I followed.  When the door thundered shut behind us, I finally smiled.  It was nice to be inside, nice to be
with the band
, and nice to see Tatum again.

DownCrash was in a small room that had white and brown checkered tile floors, dirty white stone walls, and a stench of mildew and dust.  They all looked like rockstars, the excitement of the show pretty obvious.

“I’m sure you all remember Maggie,” Scarlett announced.

I stood then as the center of attention for Tripp, Logan, and Tatum as they stared at me, remembering who I was.  I had no doubts they’d remember me in the sense that I was the girl who brought that crazy guy to their band practice.  Tatum ended up punching Scarlett’s friend, Andy, in the face.  It turned me on, more than it should have.  I’m not a person of violence by any means but thinking about big, strong Tatum defending someone...

“Hey Maggie,” Tatum said and smiled.

“Hi,” I said, addressing the entire band.

I noticed Tatum flicking his tongue at his lip ring.  I glanced at Scarlett and my insides burned.  She had gotten to taste that lip ring, even if it was only for a few seconds. 

I wanted my turn with Tatum.

“Don’t be shy,” Scarlett said, elbowing me. 

I elbowed her back and stared daggers at her.

“Look,” Tatum said, “they’re talking through the eyes, like chicks do.”

“Chicks?” I turned my daggers to the gorgeous drummer.

“Yeah,” Tatum said.  “Chicks...”

He stepped towards me.  The instant sexual tension pulled and I exhaled a breath that came out as a sigh.

“Don’t mind her,” Scarlett said.  “She didn’t listen to me when I told her to be ready.  She had to park a few blocks away and she’s mad about walking.”

“You poor thing,” Tatum said as his eyes danced up and down my body.

I never felt a surge of heat like I did then.  Even though it only lasted a few seconds before Tripp hit Tatum’s shoulder, demanding his attention to discuss the band’s setlist for the night, it had done its job.

“This is so cool, right?” Scarlett asked, putting her lips too close to my ear.

I winced because it tickled and saw Tatum straining his eyes to watch me and Scarlett.

“It’s cool,” I said.  “Are we staying back here?”

“No,” Scarlett said.  “We’ll go out in a few.  I want to watch... from a distance.”

“Why?”

“Because it gets to me a little.  Seeing all those girls grabbing for Tripp.  And plus, if I’m too close, I just might have to climb the stage...”

“Ew, stop it,” I whispered.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Scarlett said and nodded towards Tatum.

He stared at me, his head turned now, tuning Tripp out. 

“Dude, come on,” Tripp yelled.

“I got it,” Tatum said.  “Just relax, okay?”

“Let’s jam,” Logan said.  “Just to get the nerves out.”

“Good call,” Tatum said.

I watched the band split up and each grab a guitar.  The back two corners of the room was stocked with instruments, amps, mic stands, mics, cords, and cables, anything a musician could possibly need for a show.

They each took a seat and Tatum and Logan plugged in electric guitars, tuning them while Tripp adjusted the bright red strap on a black acoustic guitar.  He tuned up and started strumming chords, yelling for Tatum and Logan to follow him.  In a matter of seconds, what once had been random notes, bending and crying, turned into music.

Just like that.

Like a small spark that ignites a bon fire. 

Scarlett tugged at my wrist and said, “Let’s go now.”

“I want to watch,” I said.

“You can, out there.”

I started to back up, listening as Tripp belted out lyrics.  The clean versions of DownCrash songs were as potent as the versions with drums, bass, and distorted guitar.  I couldn’t keep my eyes off them, all three playing, not missing a single note. I watched Tatum strum and change chords, so easily.  I looked at a pair of drumsticks resting on top of a black gym bag. The fact that Tatum could play guitar that well and then get behind a drum kit and rock was a major turn on.

I finally turned around to follow Scarlett but not before looking over my shoulder one last time. 

Tatum faced Tripp, joining in on the chorus of the song, but his eyes... they were all over me.

~3~

Scarlett stood shoulder to shoulder with me.  We were near the side of the stage, probably not the best place to enjoy the concert but considering Scarlett was fucking the lead singer, we sort of had all access to DownCrash. 

“Drinks?” Scarlett asked.

I nodded and put up one finger.  That’s all I’d drink.  I couldn’t risk anything crazy happening or doing something stupid. 

Scarlett slipped away and in a matter of two seconds, someone took her place.  I felt a shoulder bump into me and looked up to find a cocky face staring down at me. 

“Danny, right?” I asked, recognizing him. 

He played baseball, pitcher, I think.  Tall, good boy looks, bad boy intentions.  That whole athletic thing I’d been through a dozen times or so in my life. 

“Why are you alone?” Danny asked.

“Waiting for a drink,” I said.

“On a date?”

“Does that matter at all?”

Danny looked around and then back down at me.  “Maybe, maybe not.  Hey, when this is over, want to come to a party with me?”

“A party?”

“Yeah.  Johnny’s place.  You know Johnny, right?  He’s got the house on Johnson Drive he splits with Petey and Nicky.”

I nodded and smiled.  I hated how the jocks always had some kind of dumb nicknaming system they used.  The football players were usually one word, something to describe what they do... like
Crusher
or
Hammer
... please, give me a break.  The baseball players and lacrosse guys just added a
‘y’
to everyone’s name.  No matter how terrible it sounded, they did it.  A lot of girls bought into it and hell, if it were a month ago, I’d probably buy into it. 

But I wasn’t in the mood.

“It’ll be fun,” Danny said.  “Lots of room at Johnny’s.  Lots to drink.  Lots to do...”

Danny bumped his shoulder into me as his lips puckered a little. 

Was this his move?

Was this the crap I fell for?

“I’m not in the mood,” I said and looked at the stage.

It was all set up.  I stared at Tatum’s drum set, wishing the band would just play.  I needed the music to drown everything else out. 

“Oh, come on, Maggs, don’t be like that.”

“Maggs?  Who the...”

“What?  You don’t like it?”

“No, not at all.”

“Just come with me tonight, I need the company.”

I looked at Danny.  He looked pathetic and desperate, two seconds away from taking out his wallet and asking what it would cost.

“Not tonight.”

“Don’t be like that,” Danny said, “I know how you are... you like to party, so come party.”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“I don’t care what you’ve heard.”

“I heard you like to make wild promises to people...”

Danny smiled and I pictured something else for a few seconds.

Always keep your promises, Maggie, okay?  If not... well, that’s when bad things happen. 

I stepped back and put my hands up.

“Get out here, okay?” I asked.

“What the fuck?” Danny asked.  “You put out to everybody, what’s wrong with me?”

“Just... go somewhere else.”

“Everything okay?” another voice chimed in.

It was Scarlett, holding two beers.

I let out a breath and side stepped to be closer to her.

“Oh, are you protecting her?” Danny asked staring at Scarlett.

“Maybe I am,” Scarlett said.

I couldn’t believe this
new
Scarlett.  She moved to her toes and for a second I thought she was going to throw down with Danny.  The only thing that maybe stopped her were the beers in her hand.

“Fuck it then,” Danny said.  “You’re fucking the band” - he pointed to Scarlett and then pointed to me - “and you... you are just fucking everything...”

I swallowed as pain rushed to my heart.

Before I could find anything to say, Scarlett threw beer at Danny.  The bottle in her right hand shook and splashed, covering his face and shirt.  Danny threw his hands up and cursed, then turned to rush away.

The lights then went out, leaving a soft purple glow on the stage.

“Here,” Scarlett said over the booming sound of the crowd cheering, “take the good beer...”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

I grabbed the beer from her right hand.  It was wet and slippery and when I tried to drink it, it was all foam.  Not that I really wanted to drink, I was more interested in the show. 

The crowd cheered and where Scarlett and I stood we had the chance to see the band before everyone else did.  We could see them in a small opening as they stepped to the stage.  Scarlett screamed Tripp’s name and for whatever reason it made me wonder if she did the same when they were together, in bed. 

Tripp grabbed the mic as a guitar hung from his shoulders.  Logan walked up next to Tripp, holding his bass, already strumming a deep note that bounced through the speakers, cutting straight into my body.  The sound, however, didn’t go nearly as deep as the feeling I had watching Tatum climb behind the drums.  He sat and touched all the drums, making sure they were in the perfect position.  He stood for a second to check his cymbals and then he sat, drumsticks in hand, playing with his lip ring.  I wondered if he did that when he was nervous, excited, or both.  I knew that if I had the chance to play with that lip ring, it’d be out of lust and seeking pleasure.

I shook my head and looked at the crowd for a few seconds, trying to calm my body.  When I looked back to DownCrash, Tripp was turned, facing Tatum, nodding.  Tatum’s eyes were wide and he smiled.  He then slammed the drumsticks together in a four count that led off the show. 

The guitar cried out in relief as Logan’s bass carried the tune right behind it.  Tatum held everything together with a beat that each time he hit the kick drum forced my heart to match.  Pounding, over and over.

Tripp played a note and put both hands to the mic as he started to sing.  His guitar slowly died into a mild feedback with Logan carrying the song on bass and Tatum joining him.  I recognized the song, as did the rest of the crowd, as they shouted the lyrics back to Tripp.  Standing at my angle, there was nothing quite like it.  I’d been to hundreds of shows in my life and the reaction DownCrash received could only be compared to some of the biggest bands in the world.  Those who filled stadiums night after night, with a career spanning decades.

But here, DownCrash owned everyone.

The song came to an end and Tripp didn’t allow any time to waste between songs.  One after another, he played and sang.  On most of the choruses, Tatum and Logan joined in, singing into a mic that had been placed next to the drums for Tatum. 

I lost count of how many songs they had played but it must have been at least six before they took a quick break.