Wicked Love (Wicked White Series Book 3) (16 page)

“Always am.” I scratch the back of my neck and hope that this lady isn’t about to hit on me too.

“That’s good to know,” she says and then hands me a card. “I’m Jane Ann Rogers, a talent recruiter for Mopar Records. I’m working on putting a band together and I’m looking for a drummer with a decent voice to sing backup. If you’re interested, give me a call and we’ll talk more about it. I think you’d be a great fit to go along with the other two guys I’ve recruited.”

I stare down at the card I’m pinching between my fingers and it appears to be very official. This might just be the big break we’ve been waiting on. I can’t wait until I can tell the guys.

“Thank you, Ms. Rogers. I’ll speak with the guys and let you know.”

She shakes her head. “No. This offer doesn’t extend to them. Only you. If you’re interested.”

I lick my lips and glance back toward the band. This feels wrong, but how many times in my life am I going to get an opportunity like this thrown into my lap? If things work out and I play along with whatever this project is, maybe down the line I can bring Jimmy and David into the business with me. I know they would jump all over this offer if they were me.

If I don’t take this talent scout up on this offer, sacrificing Avery will be for nothing. I’m not sure what my dream really is anymore, but I know that I’m committed to this musical path because I’ve destroyed any hope of ever winning Avery back. I have nothing else going in my life, so this woman’s offer sounds pretty damn good.

“I’m interested. Thank you.”

Her face lights up. “You made the right choice. Hope you’re ready. Your life is about to change.”

A wicked smile stretches across Jane Ann’s face, and it makes me wonder if I’ve just made a deal with the devil.

THREE YEARS LATER . . .

AVERY

I
wipe down the bar one more time and sigh. It’s been a long night and the crowd doesn’t seem to want to go home. I glance over at Blake, who has busied himself talking to a group of women who have been sitting at the bar all night. I’ve grown quite fond of Blake over the last few years, and he’s become one hell of a good bouncer for the bar Granny helped me open when I decided that I wanted to stick around Wellston and look after her. She helped me realize that I can be a successful business owner, even though I’m young. I found it only fitting to pay homage to Granny with the name of my bar: Granny’s Poison Apple.

Thanks to the life insurance money Dad left me, I was able to buy a small building in town and renovate it. From the old brick façade outside, it doesn’t look like much, but it’s one hundred percent mine. It’s been a steady stream of income for me over the last couple of years, and I’m thankful for that.

It’s been a challenge to be successful in this small town, but I think my hard work has really begun to pay off because it’s now the place where everyone in town comes when they feel like having a drink. Blake really helped me out in the beginning by bringing his weekend parties to the bar instead of just keeping everyone at his place. He helped to validate the bar as the best night spot around, so it was only fitting that I give him a job.

I glance up at the clock on the wall and notice in fifteen minutes it’ll be two in the morning. “Hey, Blake, could you let everyone know it’s last call?”

He nods and smiles at me. “Sure thing, boss lady.”

He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Last call!”

A big guy, whose thick salt-and-pepper beard complements the black leather vest he’s wearing, yells back, “It’s last call when we fucking say!”

My eyes snap over to the group of guys sitting at the corner table. It’s a well-known fact that they are part of a local motorcycle club that has a reputation for doing things on the shady side of the law. They’re not regulars, but I have seen them in here from time to time.

Blake’s stance stiffens and he rolls his shoulders back. My gut twists and I’ve come to know that Blake doesn’t back down from threats, which is why he’s such a phenomenal bouncer, but I can’t allow Blake to get tangled up with these guys. “Blake,” I call his name over the music that’s playing on the jukebox and he turns in my direction. “Let it go. Come help me clean these last few glasses so we can get out of here as soon as they’re done with their drinks.”

Blake takes a step in my direction and then freezes when the man in the corner yells again. “Go do as you’re told, boy!”

I gasp, knowing that since this threat is personal, there’s no way of calming Blake down now.

When he turns, all I can do is yell his name from behind the bar in hopes it will be enough to deter him from confronting the men. “Blake!”

It’s no use—he’s across the room and standing in front of the table full of guys before I even have a chance to come from behind the bar.

Blake leans down and balances his weight on his fists so he can stare the big man right in the face. “Finish your drinks and get the hell out of here.”

The even tone of his voice presents a calm front, but I can tell by the way his muscles tense beneath his T-shirt that he’s seconds away from losing his cool with these guys. The fact that Blake’s outnumbered three to one doesn’t seem to faze him either, but it scares the shit out of me. I just wish there was someone to back him up.

The man narrows his eyes. “You better watch how you talk to me, boy. I’m not a man you want to make upset.”

Blake straightens his stance and meets the stare of the menacing man on the other side of the table. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, but it’s time for you to go.”

The biker stands up slowly and the other two men flank his side. “Who’s going to make us? You?”

The three men chuckle like a funny joke has just been told.

“That’s right.” Blake balls his fists up at his side. “Don’t make me throw your ass out of here.”

The man throws back the last of his drink and then sets the beer bottle back on the table in front of him. For a second it looks like the men are about to leave without making a fuss, but out of nowhere the leader of the group sucker punches Blake from across the small table.

Blake staggers back, shakes his head, and then dives over the table, taking himself and the man to the floor. The sound of glass shattering and the commotion of the table and chairs falling to the floor turns every head in the place. The other patrons quickly flee from the bar, leaving me alone with the fighting men.

The other two men reach down and drag Blake off of their companion. Blake struggles in their hold as the other man pushes himself to his feet. Panic floods through me. I can’t just sit by and watch these goons hurt my friend.

I jump on the back of one of the guys and wrap my hands around his neck, yanking back as hard as I can to get him off Blake.

The man grabs a handful of my hair and slings me off his back. “You little bitch!”

He leers at me and out of the corner of my eye, I see the other two men taking turns punching Blake. My heart races as I slide back on the floor to get away from the guy. He narrows his eyes and just as he begins to reach down for me, someone rushes his side and tackles him to the ground.

It takes my eyes a moment to focus on who just saved me, but the moment they land on a familiar face, I gasp.

It’s like seeing a ghost.

Tyler holds the man down and punches him in the face, knocking the man unconscious. Once the guy is down for the count, Tyler turns his attention to the two men beating on Blake. Tyler grabs a handful of one of the guys’ shirts and lands a hard right square to the nose. This frees Blake up to fight the other man, and now that it’s an even two-on-two match, the bikers no longer have the upper hand.

Tyler and Blake work in unison, and once they have control of the situation, they drag each of the bikers toward the door and throw them out one by one before locking the front door of the bar.

I take a moment to check Blake’s face. Blood drips from his nose and there’s a pretty decent-size gash over his right eye. “Are you all right?”

His tongue darts out and he licks the corner of his busted lip. “Yeah. I’m good.” He turns his attention to Tyler, who stands there watching us curiously. “Damn, man. You’ve got some kick-ass timing. Thanks for jumping in there and saving my ass.”

Tyler grins and holds his hand out to Blake and they join hands and do that weird guy handshake-hug thing. “Anytime. When I first walked in, I wasn’t sure what in the hell was going on, but when I saw Avery jump on the one guy’s back, I knew shit was out of control. I figured you guys wouldn’t be opposed to me jumping in and knocking some heads around to help out.”

Hearing Tyler say my name brings back a flood of old memories. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him in person.

Tyler’s gaze shifts in my direction and my breath catches as I try to think of something to say to him.

The reunion is cut short, because minutes after the bar is empty, red-and-blue lights shine through the window. I open the door and the cops quickly jump out of their cars, running toward the men who are stumbling around in the parking lot.

“Freeze. Get down on the ground,” one of the officers shouts at the bikers.

Tyler and Blake flank my sides as two of the officers work on detaining the men we just kicked out while another man in uniform approaches us. He’s a short man, with a stocky build, whose dirty-blond hair pokes out beneath his hat. I’ve met him a few other times when I had to call the police to break up a couple fights in the bar.

“Avery,” the cop greets me.

“Good evening, Officer Ryder.”

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not that we know each other’s names since he needs to come to my place of business so often.

“We had a report that there was an altercation here. Can you tell me what happened, Avery?” He clicks his pen and is ready to write down my side of the story.

I clear my throat and begin explaining how we were trying to close up and Blake announced last call, and how those particular men refused to leave, and then engaged in an altercation with my bouncer.

He nods and makes some notes on a pad of paper he has in his hands and then turns his attention to Blake. “Would you like to press charges?”

Blake folds his arms across his broad chest and shakes his head. “No.”

I’m surprised by his answer because if I were Blake I would want those assholes prosecuted to the full extent of the law, but Blake being Blake, I suppose he sees pressing charges as a weakness.

The cop sighs. “All right then. If you’re not pressing charges, then we’ll have to let them go.”

“Understood,” Blake says. “There’s nothing about those assholes that I can’t handle should they decide to come back and try that shit again.”

“Have it your way.” Officer Ryder turns to me. “I’m going to release the suspects. If they come back, you call us, Avery. We don’t want things getting out of control again.”

“I will,” I reply and he smiles.

Officer Ryder returns to the other cops, who are detaining the bikers. I can tell by the way he keeps nodding toward us that he’s explaining to the bikers that no charges are going to be filed. Soon the men hop on their bikes, fire them up, and then pull out of the parking lot.

As soon as the parking lot is clear, the cops get into their cars and drive away too.

I turn to Blake and inspect his face a little more closely. Everything appears to be angry and swollen, the busted lip and the cut over his eye being the worst of the damage. “Let’s get inside and get some ice on that.”

Blake doesn’t argue with me. Instead he turns to head inside and holds the door open, waiting on Tyler and me to follow.

I glance up at Tyler and I find myself utterly confused. On one hand I’m excited to see him and on the other I still harbor a lot of resentment for the man. It’s been three years since I was last with him—three years since Dad died and everything in my life changed. I know we weren’t together long, but I expected Tyler to be there for me.

But, as I stand there looking at him now, I realize none of that matters. All of it’s in the past. We are strangers to one another. He’s no longer the nice country boy that I met a few years ago. He’s Tyler White of Wicked White—one of the hottest rock bands in the country. Hell, the band even made him change his last name from Mercer to White. He’s a completely different person.

I followed his rise to fame from the time Wicked White released their debut single until they became the band with the highest-grossing tour of any musical act last year.

It’s nice to know Tyler’s dream came true. This man before me is a superstar. It’s exactly what he left this town to accomplish and the reason he shoved me out of his life. Tyler’s eyes soften and he opens his mouth to say something, but before he gets a chance to, Blake’s voice cuts between us, “Yo, you two coming or what?”

“Yeah, we’re coming,” I say and then turn to Tyler and decide that I need to let things be, if only for tonight. “Come on. Drinks on the house for saving our asses tonight.”

Tyler smiles and then follows me inside.

TYLER

S
itting across from Avery is like something out of a dream. I knew coming back here that it would be a possibility that I would run into her. I just never imagined that it would be so soon. When Blake asked me to meet him at the bar where he works tonight, I had no idea that Avery would be there too.

Blake adjusts the towel that’s wrapped around a bunch of ice on his face. “So, Mr. MTV, how’s life been treatin’ ya? I saw you on TV when you went to the Grammys. Life must be pretty fucking sweet for you.”

I chuckle. “You could say that.”

Same old Blake—hasn’t changed a bit since I saw him last. Sure, we’ve kept in touch through texts and social media, but being around someone in person is a much different experience.

Blake takes a long pull from his beer. “Is it true what they’ve been saying on the news? That the front man for your band is missing?”

I pick at the label on my bottle. “It’s true. No one has heard from Ace White since he walked off stage a week ago.”

“So that’s why you’re back?” Avery asks as she studies my face. “You’re on a bit of a break?”

I nod. “Yeah. Since they can’t find Ace, my tour manager, Jane Ann, cancelled all our upcoming tour dates. I figured it would be a good time to come back and visit Mom and—” I slap Blake on the back. “—a few old friends.”

I don’t admit to her that deep down I was hoping that I would see her too because I’m not sure how she would react. I still haven’t forgiven myself for her father’s death, and if I can’t do that, how can she possibly forgive me? On top of all that, I ran in her greatest moment of need. No matter what my personal reasons were for doing that, I’m ashamed I put my own fears ahead of her needs. I wasn’t strong enough to stay and face her. I caused her pain and then made it worse by running. I don’t deserve any kindness from her.

“Do they have any idea where the guy went? I mean, I’m sure they have to have some leads. It’s not like one of the biggest stars in the world can just go into hiding—staying undetected. He’s pretty famous to not be recognized.”

I sigh. “You would think that, but neither Jane Ann nor the cops have any leads on his whereabouts.”

Avery frowns. “Do you think it’s possible that he’s dead?”

“God, I hope not. I don’t really get along with the guy, but I wouldn’t wish anything bad to happen to him.”

She tilts her head. “Is he close with anyone in the band?”

I shrug. “Ace doesn’t really get along with anyone in the band. He’s way too controlling and doesn’t allow anyone else to have any creative input. It’s like he doesn’t trust that we were picked by the label for this band because we have talent too. It’s a shame, really. I think if all the guys ever put their heads together and started creating some real music—not just the canned music they have to record—Wicked White could really be something.”

“Being the biggest band in the world isn’t enough for you?”

I shake my head. “It’s not about being the biggest or the best—it’s about creating music that we’re all proud of. Every guy in the band can sing and we all come from different backgrounds. I think we could each bring something unique to the table.”

“Why don’t you just go out on your own then, since it seems they are stifling you creatively?”

“It’s not that easy. These big record labels . . . they just don’t hand out record contracts—not to guys like me who are looking for solo gigs. They signed me up for their band, and I figure if I play by their rules for a while, maybe they’ll give me a solo shot down the road.”

“Makes sense, I guess. It’s like you’re working an entry-level job and just biding your time for your promotion.”

Her analogy is pretty on point.

I give her a small smile. “Something like that.”

Blake downs the last of his beer and sets his bottle on the table. “Shit. I’m fucking beat. I think I’m ready to head home and hit the bed. You still staying with me tonight, Tyler?”

I nod. “If that’s still okay with you.”

“Of course it is. What are bros for?”

“Awesome. Thank you. Seemed too late to go to Mom’s tonight, so I appreciate you letting me crash.”

Blake stands and then pitches his empty bottle into a nearby trash can. “Sweet. Then I’ll see you there in a bit. You remember where it is?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cool. Then I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you.” Blake leans down and kisses Avery on the top of her head. “Later, boss.”

I know I don’t have any right whatsoever, but seeing Blake kiss Avery, even in such an innocent way, makes me jealous as hell. I’ve thought about her every day since I left. I often wondered what it would’ve been like for us if the fire never happened that night. How our lives would’ve been different. I’ve missed her. If I ever admitted how much I missed her, people would probably classify me as certifiably insane since our time together in the past was so short.

“Later, Tyler!” Blake calls over his shoulder as he heads out of the bar.

Silence wraps around us the moment Blake closes the door, leaving Avery and me alone in the bar. The quiet is almost deafening and I feel like I need to say something.

So many times at night I would lie awake and imagine the things I would say to Avery if I were ever given the chance to apologize to her for the way I left her, but right now, sitting across from her, all of the fancy things I’d planned to say won’t come to mind. Instead, I can only remember one word, and I feel like I need to just say it so she knows I mean it.

“Avery, I’m sorry about how I left you. I was—”

She holds up her hand, cutting me off. “Tyler, please. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Please let me do this, Avery. I owe you this.”

She shoves herself away from the table and then stands, busying herself by clearing off the table. “It won’t change anything, Tyler. Sometimes it’s best just to leave things be. Things were going so good before and now you have to go and ruin it by bringing up old, hurtful memories.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Avery. I was scared and blamed myself for all the bad shit that was happening to you.”

My career took off so quickly and I got swept up in it. Focusing on the music helped me escape the guilt I feel about Avery’s father and the way I treated her. Music is the only thing that has brought me any joy since I walked away from Avery, which really reinforces the sense that I am supposed to fulfill my promise to Dad.

“Do you even hear yourself? The fire was an accident.”

“But it wasn’t! I caused that fire because I left the goddamn lantern burning in the barn and I would’ve never done that if I hadn’t been sneaking around to fuck you. Had I listened to my father—your father would still be alive—and God, I am so sorry for that! At times it feels like I killed him.”

Avery covers her mouth as tears stream down her face.

I don’t mean to yell at her, but I’m so overcome with emotion that I can’t seem to control my tone. The therapist I’ve been seeing for the past year—when the guilt of what happened began affecting my everyday life to the point I found it difficult to function—told me that it would be good to have a conversation with Avery. I’m pretty sure my not being able to control my emotions when it did happen wasn’t a part of that plan.

Truth is? When I think about Avery losing her father, it brings up all the raw emotion of when I lost mine. It was difficult to relive that so soon and it was like losing my father all over again. My head got all confused and I didn’t handle the situation with Avery the way I should have.

“Stop.” A sob rips through her. “I’ve thought about that night every damn night for the past three years, racking my brain on all the what-ifs. Don’t you think I blamed myself too? We both forgot the lantern that night—not just you—and I’ve been beating myself up over it every day since then. This didn’t happen because your dad cursed us. It happened because it was an accident.

“I’ve spent so many sleepless nights worried about you—worried about how you shouldered all the blame yourself—but I never heard from you again, so I figured you didn’t need my comforting.”

My heart is crushed in my chest. Here is a girl who has every right to hate me, and yet, she’s trying to ease my pain.

“Avery . . .” She presses her fingers to my lips.

“You don’t have to say anything else. I’ve already forgiven you. I had to in order to forgive myself.”

“I don’t expect anything from you,” I tell her honestly. “But I would very much like to start over with you and be friends.”

She stares into my eyes. “We can do that as long as you promise not to run off and avoid me for another three years.”

A huge weight lifts off my chest. It’s hard to believe the things I’ve struggled with for the past three years are so easy to talk about. Maybe it is because I’m in a much better place now, with a more rational thought process.

I give her a sad smile. “Deal.”

She lets out a big sigh of relief. “Now that the elephant in the room has been squashed, how about another drink?”

“Sure,” I say, but then feel compelled to ask, “Blake won’t mind that you’re out with me so late?”

She furrows her brow as she pops the tops on two beers behind the bar. “Why would he care?”

“Aren’t the two of you a thing?” I’m not sure if I really want to know the answer to that, but I need to know what kind of situation I’ve just walked into.

If my best friend has been dating the girl who’s held my heart for the past three years and keeping it secret, I might just lose my shit on him.

She laughs. “God, no. We’re just friends. Blake helped me get this place going and is really my only friend in town. What made you think that we were together?”

I shrug. “You’re beautiful and Blake—let’s just say I know him. I figured he would try to get with you once I was out of the picture.”

She walks over and sets my beer in front of me. “Well, you’re right about that. He did try, but I made it clear very early on that I didn’t think about him like that. He bucked the whole idea of being just friends but he eventually came around. He’s a really good guy and I’m not sure what I would’ve done without him for the past three years.”

I nod, but guilt and jealousy washes over me again. It should’ve been me being there for her, but I’m happy that she had someone. “I’m glad he was there for you.”

Avery traces the condensation on her bottle with her index finger and for a long moment she doesn’t say a word. It’s like she’s lost in deep thought and her mind is elsewhere. Then she totally catches me off guard. “Would you like to come over for Sunday dinner tomorrow? Granny’s making fried chicken and I think she’d love to see you.”

Her offer wasn’t one I expected but I’m grateful for the invitation “I’d love to. What time should I come over?”

“Dinner’s at six, and don’t be late or you’ll have to deal with the wrath of Granny.”

I smile, and for the first time since I left this town, I feel a little bit at peace over what happened when I left Avery at that motel.

After I help Avery clean up the rest of the bar, I drive through town and make it to Blake’s house. He’s still driving the same old Mustang, and it’s parked in front of the house. I kill the engine of the Kia rental car I’m driving and head up the sidewalk toward the front door. The knob twists open and it’s unlocked just like he said. All the lights are off, so I just set my bag down by the front door and then lie down on the couch. How exhausted I am doesn’t actually hit me until that moment. Within minutes I fall into a deep sleep and I don’t move a muscle.

It’s not until beams of light come through the window and shine right in my face that I wake from my death-like sleep. I yawn as I stretch my arms over my head. It’s been a long time since I roughed it on a couch, and I’d forgotten how hard it is for my six-foot frame to fit on one all night.

I push myself up and balance my elbows on my knees as I scrub my hand down my face. I pick up my cell phone off the floor and notice the battery is about dead as I check the time. It’s after twelve, so I’ve already slept most of the day away. I’ve got to haul some ass if I want to make it over to Mom’s house before I go to Avery’s for dinner.

I rummage through my bag, find my charger to plug my phone into, and grab a quick shower. I towel off and then dress in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before exploring the house, looking for Blake, who has been uncharacteristically quiet this morning. He’s probably still trying to get in some beauty sleep to calm down that mess of a face from the fight last night.

The biker took a few good shots before I made it in there to help Blake out.

I push open the door to his bedroom, and there’s no sign of him. His bed is unmade, but that’s not unusual. I’ve never known Blake to be the bed-making type. The next place I check is the kitchen, but there’s no sign of him there either, so I figure he probably already left for the day. I mean, just because I’m here as his guest doesn’t mean that he needs to report to me where he’ll be all the time.

After that thought, I head to the living room and collect my duffel bag, along with my cell, and head out the front door, locking it behind me. It’s then I notice that Blake’s Mustang is still parked out front of his house. Now this puzzles me. He isn’t one for riding with others because he insists on driving his baby everywhere.