Page 24 of Dirty Rock

“Hey, that’s not fair.” She may as well have been the one to stick her boot in my ribs.

“I don’t need a lecture from you of all people.”

“From me of all people? What the hell does that mean? Wait, is this aboutme? Are you pissed because of something I’ve done?”

“Imagine.” She sighed with sarcasm.

“Julia…”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, Rhett, fuck! Not everything is about you. Don’t you get that? Not everything on this tour comes back to the frontman.”

I rose to stand in front of her, hating the way she was making me feel so small. “Cut me some slack, Jules. I’m trying to help here.”

“You want to help? If you really want to help me and the band then stop thinking this entire tour starts and ends with your dick. Stop getting yourself into situationsIhave to get you out of. Stop thinking this band is about how many times you can get in trouble and survive. Start realising there is more to this thanyou,and then maybe, just maybe, once you’ve grown the hell up, we’ll talk.”

My mouth fell open as I stared at her. She looked back at me like she hated me, and the reality of that made my heart beat uncharacteristically faster. I didn’t want her to hate me. I could take everyone else thinking poorly of who I was… but not her. Not Jules.

Where had all this come from?

I couldn’t look away.

Julia’s chest bounced as she stared at me, waiting for some snarky comeback, no doubt. I had them waiting on the tip of my tongue, too. I had a whole lot of shit to say but setting them free would serve her well right now. She wanted me to mess up so she could justify her outburst. Julia wanted me to prove her right.

Fuck. That.

I pressed my lips together, not showing her an ounce of emotion before I took a step closer and lowered my head to hers.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on here,” I said quietly, my fists clenched down by my thighs. “But that is the last time you’ll speak to me that way and get away with it. I was trying to help. If being a friend makes me a bad person, then screw you. We won’t be friends anymore. Let’s not be anything.”

Without saying another word, I walked past her, our arms brushing together on the way. I made it to my room and slammed the door shut with all the dramatics she no doubt expected.

Not one of those bastards stood up for me against her, either.

Was Julia right? Was I becoming the very things she’d said I was becoming? Selfish? Narcissistic? Arrogant?

Had I somehow turned into the Liam Montgomerys of the world?

The thought made me swallow a giant dry lump in my throat, and I quickly scanned my room to find my denim jacket. I found it hanging over the back of a chair in the corner, so I went over and dug through the pockets. I thought I was out of luck until I checked the inside breast pocket and felt the smooth plastic between my fingers. When I pulled it out, the small bag of coke felt like heaven in my hands.

Fuck each and every one of them out there.

Fuck the world, too.

It was time to escape again.

Chapter Eight

I’d hung out of the window and smoked three cigarettes before I’d made my way over to the unnecessarily big bed.

The knock at the door didn’t even make me flinch.

“Not here!” I called out.

If Presley, Big D, or any of the lads were about to give me a lecture and tell me to apologise to Julia, I wasn’t playing along.

There was another knock.

“Rhett!” Julia called out. “Please let me in.”

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