Page 8 of Beautifully Scarred

There’s nothing I can’t stand more than when Jimmy is disappointed in me. His anger I can handle. But that look he gave me burns like acid on my skin and kills my high.

“Let’s head back to the bar,” I yell at Dan before stalking off in that direction.

I order two shots and another double martini while Dan makes a trip to the bathroom. I want to go with him to see if I can score another bump off him, but I’m not in the mood to fuck him and that’s what he wants. So I settle for the haze alcohol can bring me. I can still feel the cocaine in my bloodstream, but it’s wearing off and I’ll need to find more soon.

By the time Dan returns, I’m done drinking and raring to go. We head back out onto the dance floor, bouncing along to the beat as EDM blasts through the speakers of the club. I spare a glance at Jimmy, who tries to act as though he’s not watching me, but his eyes keep shifting between the dance floor and his new girl.

It’s the one thing I can always count on—Jimmy will never stop being my bodyguard. He should just admit it now.

Chapter Five

JIMMY

“Fuck her, man. She’s always fucking with your head,” Tripp yells into my ear.

On the other side of me is Brooke, some wannabe actress that Tripp’s trying to hook me up with. Really, I just agreed to be his wingman tonight since he’s hooked on her friend, Robin. Not that he needs a wingman. Tripp is Tripp Savage, lead singer of one of the biggest rock bands in the world—Savage Revolt. He can get pussy with the crook of his finger.

“You don’t get it man,” I say in return and sip my drink, eyeing the dance floor.

“You’re always saying that. But maybe you’re the one who doesn’t get it.”

I shrug. He has a point. It’s not as if I don’t know that I’m blind when it comes to Lilah. But no one understands what we’ve been through. We’ve always come out on top and I’m certain we will again, once I can get her to clean up her act.

All night I’ve been trying to keep myself from watching the douchebag she’s dancing with do his best to fuck her on the dance floor, but it’s impossible. My gaze will always naturally move to Lilah when she’s around.

It’s a product of our fucked-up childhoods, where I was the only one she could count on. Always double-checking she’s okay. But she’s an adult now and needs to take care of herself. Truth is, she can’t, and I have no idea how to fix her.

“You should be celebrating tonight. Living it up! You’re the talk of the town, and as long as you don’t fuck up this movie, you’ll keep being that.” Tripp sucks back the rest of his drink and slams the glass on the table.

He’s right. My picture deal was announced today, and I should be on top of the world. I’m already considered a success in this town, but this movie is going to make me an A-list star with the likes of George or Brad or Chris—hell, any of the Chrises.

Instead, I’m fixated on the way that sack of shit on the dance floor is all over Lilah. It’s like déjà fucking vu from a few weeks ago at the club. I can’t afford any more bad publicity, but rage is building in my chest just watching this shit. Sitting idly to the side goes against every instinct I have when it comes to Lilah.

“C’mon, man, have another shot,” Tripp yells over the music.

Beside me, Brooke rubs her hand up my thigh, signaling that she’s more than willing to be a notch on my bedpost. But that’s the thing with this town. It’s filled with women like Brooke, who want to try to hitch a ride on your star as it’s headed up into the stratosphere.

I accept the shot glass from Tripp. I have no idea what the hell is in it, but I’ll take any distraction I can right now. After clinking my glass with his, I toss back the liquid and enjoy the burning sensation sliding down my throat.

Tripp slaps me on the back. “That’s my man.”

I smile at him as best I can because I know he means well. I met him by fluke when I first moved to town, and we hit it off even though he was already mega famous, and I was just starting out.

I make small talk with Brooke for the next hour, ignoring her insistence that we should leave. I like getting laid as much as the next guy, but I’m not into it tonight. I’m trying not to be too obvious about keeping an eye on Lilah, but Brooke sees me glance in that direction a couple of times and follows my gaze.

“Do you want to dance?” she asks.

The blond douchebag Lilah’s been hanging off of all night leads her off the dance floor toward the restrooms, and I decide to use the opportunity to my advantage.

“Maybe in a bit. I need to hit the head.” I stand and exit the VIP area.

Tripp’s calling after me, but I ignore him, knowing I need to be quick to stay on Lilah’s tail. As I turn down the hallway that leads to the restrooms, I spot Lilah and her flavor of the night make a right at the end of the hall. When I make it there, I see that most of the doors are closed, signaling that they’re occupied.

Deciding to start at the beginning, I knock on the first door. When a woman who isn’t Lilah answers, I move on to the next and the next until I reach the one at the end of the hall.

I knock, and no one answers. I knock again.

“Piss off, it’s occupied,” a male voice shouts through the door.

---