Riffs That Ruin (Survival Records #2)

3. Blake

R aina’s brow furrows as she listens to her lawyer on the phone. A small wrinkle forms between her eyes, but it doesn’t detract from her beauty at all. No, it makes her even more attractive, oddly enough. Makes her more attainable, less airbrushed and fake.

The driver takes a turn, making Raina fall into my side. My hand instantly lands on her jeans-covered thigh, wanting to convey that she can stay here if she wants. Her hand covers mine, her fingertips tracing over my skin. I flip it over and she threads her fingers with mine, squeezing tightly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Giordano. I appreciate you getting on this so quickly.” She nods her head like the lawyer on the line can see her. Whatever news she’s gotten is good; I can tell by the way her shoulders seem to drop. “I look forward to meeting her. On the thirteenth in Detroit. Got it.” She pauses once more, then thanks the woman before hanging up.

“Good news?” Nash asks before I can. He leans forward in his seat, eyeing her carefully, his tongue playing at the piercing on his lip. His gaze flicks to mine, and the fucker winks at catching me. He doesn’t break his gaze from her for long, a worried tick appearing in the way his tongue runs over the metal. Probably a tell only someone who’s been around him as much as I have would notice.

“Yeah,” Raina mutters, not bothering to take her attention off her phone. She hums, working through a scale. It’s one of the things she does to warm her voice and keep it ready for singing. She does it all the time, and I’m not sure it’s something she notices, but she does it even more often on days we perform.

The longer she stares at her device, the deeper her frown becomes. “Those motherfuckers!” For a second I think she’s about to throw her phone, but she calmly puts it face down on her lap and folds her hands on top of it, bringing mine with her into the fold.

A giddy happiness pings around in my chest, and it doesn’t even occur to me to hide the smile growing on my face. If I’m honest, I find it hard to believe she’d choose to hold on to my hand instead of letting go. A small voice hidden away somewhere that I want to listen to says it’s because she finds comfort in me.

“Raina,” I start, grasping her chin to turn her attention to me. Her head moves freely, but her eyes are closed, and she’s taking deep breaths, like she’s trying her hardest to calm herself down. It’s a drastic change after she seemed so relieved while on the phone. “What’s going on? Talk to us.”

She releases a harsh breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring. It shouldn’t make me more attracted to her, but it does.

Her mouth opens, but she pauses, eyeing the driver to determine if she wants to say anything with him here. He’s employed by the label, someone who follows the tour making sure there’s a vehicle on hand if anyone needs a ride whether it’s us or someone on the team like a runner.

She must decide it’s safe after giving one of the weakest smiles I’ve ever seen to Keaton in the passenger seat. “Those assholes have us on the schedule to do thirty shows. They’ve already decided how many they want from me, so last night adding on another as a payment for missing the party was all a show. A tactic to make it feel like I’m constantly losing pieces of myself, forever giving more and more.”

Her eyes close for a beat, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows before she blinks them open, and I get a window into her pain. I shift my hand so I’m cupping her cheek, soothing my thumb over her soft skin. She leans into the touch like she’s starved for it. “So, what do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know. But at least now I know what game they’re playing, and they won’t be able to eat away at my soul.”

Nash scoots into her space, not liking that he isn’t getting any of her attention. The man is a total whore for it. It’s actually been nice not bearing the full weight of his neediness for once. “Maybe it’s something you should bring up to your lawyer? You had an agreement in place, they can’t change it on a whim like this.”

Her face snuggles further into my palm, but she reaches out with her free hand to grab his, placating his desire to be included. “I’ll mention it to the new manager who’ll meet us in Detroit. Oh, and we got The Storm back.”

“No offense, roomie, but Alyssa is trash. I don’t know how you put up with her for so long.” An up-to-no-good smile appears on his face. I know it’s only there because he knows she can’t see him right now. “Seems like our presence has helped you come to your senses.”

He barely gets the words out before she’s shoving her hand into his shoulder. “Oh please. You’re so full of yourself. I’ve already admitted I’ve screwed up my fair share in the past. Fixing my mistakes can’t be done overnight.”

The SUV comes to a stop outside the same venue as last night. The buses are still parked in the same place, but this time there are fans crowding around the back door, waiting to get a glimpse of us as we arrive. I’m glad to at least find the security team is keeping them from being too close to the buses, but it still doesn’t leave much to be desired for privacy.

Nash leans into Raina again, his arm on the seat behind her. “When the bus is a rocking, don’t come a knockin’.” He laughs and I smile, knowing I just had the same thought. “Maybe we really should make a sign. I don’t mind if everyone knows Raina and Nash are doing the mash.”

To my surprise, Raina laughs. “You’re too encourageable. We’re not letting everyone know when we’re fucking. It’s not a car. If it does move, it could be for any number of reasons.”

Keaton’s hand reaches out to grasp her chin and turns her to face him, at the same time Nash’s mouth drops in a dramatic show of shock. “And how do you know that?” the drummer asks, his voice rumbling as the driver gets out to stand by the back door on my side of the car.

It’s weird having him all of a sudden speaking more than we ever heard him before. Yet at the same time, it’s not like he’s changed much. It’s still all things he deems important, I guess he just has a lot more of them now. It doesn’t hurt he’s found someone he cares about to break him out of his shell, too.

Raina licks her lips, her pupils blowing wide with Keaton’s show of dominance. “Don’t worry, big guy. It’s not from firsthand experience. The Storm hasn’t been christened yet.” Her gaze tracks over him like an intimate caress. “But I’m not opposed to changing that.”

Sexual tension fills the interior of the vehicle, thick and heavy, touching all of us. Nash toys with his lip ring, and his leg jiggles up and down. His mouth twitches to open, and I instinctively know exactly what he’s fixing to say, and the word is out of my mouth before he can put claim to it.

“Dibs.”

A loud gasp precedes her hand pressing against her chest. “Nash!” She might be saying his name, but it’s me she’s looking at. Rightfully so, since he was the one who was fixing to exclaim it.

“That was rude, Blake! You knew I was going to say it. You stole it right out of my mouth.” Nash huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Fucking asshole. Roomie, please tell him he can’t do that. Give me the dibs. You even said my name, knowing that would be my move!”

He leans into her, sticks out his bottom lip and tilts his head as he gives her the most practiced puppy dog look. It’s a powerful expression on him, one I don’t want to risk her seeing. I quickly reach out and palm her cheek, stopping her from turning her head. She probably saw it from the corner of her eye, but that’s nothing on the full effect.

“Bunny, fair is fair.” We might’ve only had our first kiss yesterday, and it could admittedly be moving fast, faster than I’m ready for if I’m honest with myself, but it doesn’t make me want it any less.

“Stop it.” Keaton’s voice slices through the mounting competitiveness between me and my best friend. “There won’t be any fighting over a decision that belongs to Raina alone.”

Nash and I share a glance, knowing we’re properly chastised even if we were mostly—but kinda not—joking around about it.

“Mmm,” she purrs, stirring my cock. Fuck, I really can’t get hard right now. It’ll be impossible to hide. “My hero. Don’t worry, big guy, I can handle them.”

“At the same time?” the trouble maker shoots off.

“Nash,” Keaton barks. He whips out his sticks, smacking the loose cannon in the arm before she can respond. Raina bites her lip and gives Nash a coy smile.

“We better find Tristan and get to sound check before they get up our ass about it.” Raina swats at the side of my leg, indicating she wants me to climb out. Glancing out the window, I realize even more fans have gathered, waiting to catch us entering the building. This will be our lives now, constantly surrounded by admirers and reporters. We had it so easy back at the beach house. I have no idea how we got away with nobody harassing us.

The driver paired with the security team is at least keeping people away from us. I’m sure they’ve guessed by now we’re in here, even with the dark tint on the windows. Why else would someone climb out and guard the door?

Within a millisecond of the door popping open, the driver steps out of the way, grabbing the handle to open it the rest of the way for me. The movement grabs the attention of the Storm Chasers waiting and their screams calling Raina’s name fill the air. They move as one, like Raina is a queen bee who released her pheromones into the air with her mere presence, and they’re the workers needing to swarm around her.

Security anticipated the surging fans, holding their arms up to stop them from moving. It’s a complete circus now; I can only imagine what it’d be like if they announced when and where we’d be in public.

When I’m free of the SUV, I turn and offer my hand to Raina. In the time I had my back turned, she put on an oversized pair of sunglasses. She smiles at me, but it seems more forced than the one I normally get from her. It doesn’t take a genius to know why. It’s been all of five seconds, and I’m feeling the pressure of knowing I’m being watched.

Her hand slides into mine, and I close my fingers around her, squeezing to give her some kind of solidarity. Nash comes around the back side of the SUV and Keaton leaves the front seat. “Where to?” I ask, dropping her hand, I know how important her image is to her. I don’t want to start any rumors; she’s already had to deal with enough.

“We should probably check the bus first before heading inside. Has anyone heard from Tristan today?” Raina asks, looking over her shoulder at us.

“Haven’t heard from that bastard since we walked off stage.” Nash’s voice matches how I feel about Tristan right now. It drips with scorn and disgust. “He’s dead to me after what he did to you.”

Raina stops in her tracks and turns around with panic in her eyes, yet no other emotion shows on her face. She’s perfected keeping her feelings from manifesting where others can see them. I’m not even sure how I know it’s panic in her eyes, yet I do. Shit. Now that I think of it, it’s the same look I get whenever a girl sees—

“Forkenshirtbells, this isn’t the time for this conversation, but I can’t let you think that way about him. You misunderstood the situation and…” Her gaze darts to the crowd still chanting her name. “Let’s get on Thunderstruck.” Her pace picks up from what it was before, leaving us slightly stunned as she makes her way to the rundown bus.

“Did she really just string together non curse words…” Nash trails off, trying to piece together what happened.

“As a way to keep people from reading her lips?” I finish for him, giving my reasoning. But she’s so… Raina at times, who knows.

“Move,” Keaton growls, nudging us both to keep following her. We quickly close the distance and climb into the over-used bus. I can’t believe it hasn’t been retired yet. Or perhaps it was, and they brought it back simply to fuck with Raina. I don’t understand why her label works so hard to ostracize her.

The moment the door clicks shut behind us, she turns and presses a hand to her stomach. I swear there’s a slight greenish hue to her face, making me inspect the area behind her, expecting to find a gruesome scene.

“I’m so sorry,” she starts, her fingers threading together where they twist back and forth nervously. Her eyes start to water and every muscle in my body urges me to comfort her, but I know she needs to get out whatever it is before I do. “I feel so guilty I haven’t had a chance to set the record straight yet, but I was so triggered after it happened, and then we were traveling all day yesterday, then the bullshit with the show and—”

“Baby girl,” Nash says, cutting her off with his hand held up. “You’re rambling. Spit it out.” He licks at his lip ring, making both mine and her eyes dart there. Knowing he has her attention, he gives her an encouraging smile.

“Tristan wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want. Well, at least not until the things he was saying sent me into the past.”

Keaton snarls, his body going tense.

“Don’t worry, big guy. In a different context, if I’d had a different past, then it would’ve been almost romantic. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. But I started having flashbacks and couldn’t fight it any longer when he bit my nipple.”

Nash sucks a breath through his teeth. She must’ve shared with him about that being a trigger like she did with me yesterday. Her cheeks heat like she’s embarrassed to be sharing the details with us, and her hands come up to rub at them, bumping into the rim of her sunglasses. She takes them off and eyes the couch like she’s contemplating sitting, but thinks better of it with a quick disgusted scrunch of her face.

“You walked in as I told him to stop, and he did. Right away.” Her gaze lands on Keaton, her eyes softening. “I know you heard me scream and jumped into action. And I appreciate so much having someone in my life willing to do that. But please don’t think Tristan raped me. He forgot I’m not the same girl who was his best friend five years ago and treated me like I’m her. He fucked up, but not nearly as bad as you thought.”

A buzzing sound starts in my ears, becoming louder and louder as the seconds tick by. I’m usually so good at catching all the little things that others miss. I’m the one who’s spent years pushing others away and learning to become a wallflower so I can figure out the intentions of those around me. Studying them until I could read body language well enough to see what they keep hidden.

How did I not realize Tristan had stopped, much less how he and Raina have been acting since yesterday? It’s so clear to me now, but why couldn’t I see it before?

The sudden sound of wood breaking makes Raina jump. She moves for Keaton and his broken stick, but he’s already out the door before she makes it a step. A cold slap of air hits us across the face in his wake.

“Fuck,” Nash whispers under his breath. His fingers cover his lips as his thumb tucks under his jaw. I understand that unexpected pit opening in his stomach, I’m feeling it too.

The truth abruptly hits me. We jumped to the worst conclusions about our best friend, all because he was acting like the biggest royal asshole toward our girl. He wanted to go to the farthest reaches possible to ruin her life. Why wouldn’t we think he’d snap and… rape her? The words paired with her pain riddled soul make me nauseated.

We were so wrong , but he made it easy to think the worst with how he’s been acting. All the signs were there. He was blinded by rage attacking her, hurting her in ways that no friend should ever do. For fuck’s sake, he violently ripped her shirt off one day.

He hasn’t been the same guy since this all started, it’s not that much of a stretch to think he’d snap suddenly, but at the same time it’s a huge fucking stretch. He’s not that person, he’d never do something that despicable.

I’m the worst goddamn friend alive.

“Should I?” Raina points to the door Keaton left through.

“Leave him be, roomie. He needs a moment. By the time we walk out there, he’ll be okay.” Nash snags his arm around her waist. She gives him a questioning look before wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, and after a second she sinks into him.

Raina runs her fingers through his auburn hair. The motion is soothing to watch, I can only imagine what it’s like to be the one receiving it. “What’s up, Nashy?”

He squeezes her tighter, reveling in the comfort of her embrace. Lucky bastard. “I feel like I betrayed my best friend,” he mumbles into her neck. The words are barely audible, but I still pick up on the ache he’s feeling. It’s a mirror image of what I’m going through.

“Oh.” She frowns. “I wish I could say something to make that go away. I can’t help but want to take the blame even though I know it’s not my fault.”

Nash draws away, holding her by the shoulders at arm’s distance. “You didn’t do this. It’s all on him. He was the one acting so vengeful that we believed he’d do something like that.” He cups her cheek and slowly closes the space between them.

His lips are barely a hair’s breadth away when the door is swiftly ripped open.