Page 40 of Give Me What I Want

After a couple of minutes of smiling for the cameras and answering generic questions, I gave Joel a nod and he stepped back in. Our security created a barrier once more and I turned, Ro still holding me, and faced my bandmates and friends. “I’m so sorry guys. Shall we get going?”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Elijah said, his voice assuring. No one would argue with him, even if they did have any negative feelings about what had just happened.

He took the lead, and Ro finally released me, taking my hand and silently walking along beside me. We had all picked up our pace now and were back at the busses in no time.

Once we were safely inside our bus, I snapped. “Who the hell did that guy think he was?”

Ro sat down with a groan, then closed his eyes and tipped his head back, indicating that he wasn’t going to get himself involved in my outburst. Cole followed suit, except he curled up in a ball, yawning and mumbling something about a nap. Jord stormed off down to his bunk, ripping the curtain closed behind him. I almost followed after him, but Mav stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. He turned me, gave me a pleading, tired look, then sat down in his chair.

No one wanted to talk. The silence was irritating. So I stormed off myself, heading to the bedroom and slamming the door loudly, then cranked my music as loud as it could go, and began to sing along. I didn’t care if they were tired, if no one would rant with me, I’d have to let my emotions out through music. And if anyone came after me, hoping to help me with their dicks, I’d tell them to fuck off.

As it went, no one followed, and at some point, I had flopped onto the bed and fallen asleep. It was Mav who had woken me, gently shaking my ass as I lay face down in a puddle of my own dribble.

“Rise and shine, babe. We’ve got sound check in five minutes,” he said softly, his voice lacking much emotion. It made me want to wrap him in my arms and make every bad feeling go away, but even I knew that wasn’t something anyone could do. Still, I grabbed him and clung to him like a koala for a minute, nuzzling into the back of his neck, telling him I was here, always here.

He sniffed then peeled me off of him. “I know, and I appreciate you. But seriously, get your ass up, and put on something comfy, I have a feeling we’ll be in there for a while.”

“On it, boss.” I grinned, blowing him a kiss as he left me to get changed.

Emerging five minutes later, I had thrown on a pair of baggy, black sweats, paired with a huge, white tee, and had pulled my hair up into a bun. Once I was done with soundcheck, I’d be disappearing to find Isla to get my hair done all pretty—as long as she was in a good mood, otherwise, it would just be a quick once over with a pair of straighteners before she slapped more makeup on my face.

Over in the venue, One Last Time were finishing up, and decided to hang about while we went over our set. But, as Mav had expected, we were stuck there for a while, thanks to Ro being in an excessively picky mood, and Jordan disappearing for a smoke every ten minutes. In the end, I grabbed Jord’s guitar and badly played my way through the song that Ro was insisting we needed to mix things up with.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jord asked as he came back inside, the smell of smoke clinging to him and a deep scowl sitting on his face. “Put my guitar down before you break it.”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Ro snarled, stepping up to Jordan, swinging his bass behind his back as he stood toe to toe with our pissed-off guitarist.

“Apologise.” Ro’s tone was low, and if I didn’t know him, if I hadn’t been on the receiving end of that anger on multiple occasions, I’d have been scared. One word, and I’d have shit my pants.

“He doesn’t need to—” I started, but to my surprise, Jord spoke over me.

It was entirely out of character of him. I slipped the guitar strap off and carefully placed the instrument down as he spoke. “Why should I apologise?Shenever apologises for anything, and when she does, she ends up in bed with you.” Jordan narrowed his eyes at Ronan, then pointed at Mav. “And you.” Then Cole. “And even fucking you.”

I stepped forward, but Ro held his arm out, halting me as I got close to them. “Ronan,” I warned with a growl.

“So what, Jordan? Are you jealous that it wasn’t you? Because from what I remember of that first night, you didn’t have the fucking balls to do anything. I bet you’d be singing an entirely different tune if you had. But you won’t give up your blonde whor—”

“That’s enough.” Elijah stepped in, standing at Jordan’s side, staring between the pair of them as his voice cracked like a whip. “Both of you, walk away now. Before you do or say anything stupid.”

Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked. The two men just glared at each other. Eventually, Elijah shook his head and looked at me. “Better back up, Bea.”

“I reckon Jord will throw the first punch.” One of their guitarists said from the tabletop he was sitting on.

“Nah, I reckon it’ll be Ro.” His boyfriend said, and from the corner of my eye, I watched as they shook hands, clearly making some kind of bet.

“No one is going to do anything like that,” I said, frustration rolling through me. Stepping around Ro’s arm as Elijah walked away, I placed a hand between my bandmates, then grimaced at the offending waft of whisky in the air between them. Trying to ignore it, knowing that it was coming from Jordan and was likely part of the reason that he was acting like a tough guy, I spoke up, stern and commanding. “Boys. Stop this right now.”

“You need to apologise to her. Now,” Ro growled, acting as though I wasn’t even there.

“Like fuck am I doing that,” Jord sneered.

“You’ll do it, or I’ll make you do it.” Ronan’s fists balled, his shoulders rolling backwards as he braced himself to throw the first punch.

I grabbed his wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked, outraged.

“Standing up for you.” His eyes remained locked on Jordans as he spoke to me.

“I don’t need you to stand up for me, Ronan.”

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