Page 91 of Cherry Beats

“When I phoned you, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I caught sight of Presley walking back through the crowd, and Dicky’s eyes followed mine over his shoulder. He scoffed quietly before he turned back to me and dropped both his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“You think this will last?”

“Who knows?”

“I do.”

“I care for him, you know.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“I’m not them.”

“They all say that, too.” He flared his nostrils and exhaled through them. “Hurt him, piss him off, make him lose focus, or do anything to derail the path this band is on, Tessa, and I swear to you that Janey Dominic will look like a fucking angel compared to what hellfire I will rain down on you.”

I blinked quickly, stunned and confused as I looked back at Dicky’s face. He was so calm, so softly spoken among the noise of the club and the people in it, yet his words had been more threatening and real than anything Janey Dominic could ever have thrown at me.

“Understood.” I nodded slowly.

Presley was by my side in no time, his arm going around my shoulder and tugging me into him at once… my protector, acting like he wasn’t the superstar who needed a bodyguard, and Iwas.

“The fuck you doing here?” he snapped at Dicky.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“We got bored,” Presley said, clearly amused.

“Well, that’s all right then. It doesn’t matter that twelve more journalists were waiting to hear from you guys after sitting there patiently all day before you even woke the fuck up this morning.”

“Man, you’re an arsehole. Grab yourself a drink already.”

Dicky’s attention drifted to me, and I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights trapped between Presley’s body and arm, studying the dynamics of the two. The last thing I wanted was for this man to see me as weak. Something told me if he did, he would use that against me for as long as I stuck around…

And I’d just promised Presley Iwouldstick around.

Raising my chin, I held Dicky’s gaze, lifted my beer to my lips, and I took a slow, careful sip of it, never once looking away. His mouth curved up on one side before he shook his head, and Presley turned us away from him.

“Ignore him,” he said as he leaned into me.

“Was planning on it.”

The two of us were soon back in place on the silver sofa, huddled together with Presley resting his arms on his knees and me copying his pose, legs gravitating towards one another. The night wore on into the very early hours of the morning. Despite feeling wasted, I kept glancing at my watch, unable to avoid the small yawns that were catching up with me. I’d barely slept the night before, and now another night was bleeding into the day, and I still hadn’t managed to close my eyes and rest. If adrenaline was responsible for getting me through all this, I hoped it never ran out.

One of Youth Gone Wild’s songs burst to life from the DJ box, and all of a sudden, the place was bouncing. Every one of the guys apart from Presley shot up from their seats, raised their bottles or glasses in the air and started jumping around. Rhett was headbanging to the beat of Presley’s well-known drum solo from the track Loved You At Dawn, right before the lyrics flowed out around us.

A bottle of Jack

Whacked out from the tracks

Ablaze from your touch

Nothing’s wrong with this feeling,

Except you promise you’re leaving.

Too good

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