Second sets omnibus, p.13
Second Sets Omnibus, page 13
I blink when Kieran stares daggers in my direction, burning holes through my head.
“I’m not playing any fucking games. She’s mine,” Kieran says matter-of-factly with a sharp nod, exposing his teeth like he’ll bite me open if I suggest otherwise.
“Share the goods, bro. River is mine too. I want to splash her titties with my cum and…” Rad grunts when Callum puts his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
The expression lining Callum’s face gives his true feelings away. He didn’t stop Rad because he was disgusted with his overly expressive words. It’s desire sitting in the depths of his eyes when he peeks at her again with interest, not in disgust. Not with the way his blush deepens, if that’s even possible.
Eventually, Callum will decide who the perfect girl is to lose his v-card to, and then he can move on from his embarrassment of sex. Or the opposite sex. Never have I seen a grown man fumble over his words as much as Cal. Despite his good looks, he’s been more reluctant than ever to reach out to women and talk to them the older he gets. I suppose his past may play a part in his decisions.
"Oh my god!" I cringe when Tessa and Sara squeal beside our booth, trying to squeeze in with us.
"Not tonight," I bark, taking a swig of my beer.
"But, Asher, baby," Tessa purrs in my ear, rubbing her hand over my shoulder.
"I said not tonight," I growl, catching her wrist and peeling her away. "Not in the mood."
"It's that Central slut, isn't it?" she hisses, earning a growl from Kieran.
"We're not interested. And I'd suggest you not call River names if you know what's good for you," I say, narrowing my eyes at her until she grabs Sara and huffs away.
One day, Tessa will understand we’re no longer interested in her company and haven’t been for a long time. Somehow, she’s been too oblivious to understand, but I feel she’ll get the picture now that we have our sights set on the woman across the room. Tessa has run through every person on this planet, hoping to get a little extra. It’s girls like her who make my teeth clench at night. They’re always looking for something extra like marriage, kids, and a bank account to go with it.
"So long, tiny tots!" Rad calls after her over the music.
After another hour of Sorcha’s band playing, the other squeaky bartender jumps on stage, taking their place. Looking at my watch, I frown at the late time and shake my head. We’ve been cooped up in this corner for so long that I almost forgot what Sorcha spoke of at the bar. Battle of the damn bands. Maybe if we make it through that avenue, we won’t need River to help us. But peeking at Kieran, Rad, and Callum again—that will not happen.
“Last call!” the bouncy bartender squeals through the microphone on stage. Throwing her mess of curls all over the place with every step, she grins down at the patrons. “Get your last drinks and pay your tab. You don’t have to go home, but you sure as shit can’t stay here. Say it with me, folks…” she says, pointing toward a sign above the stage.
“Get the fuck out!” the remaining crowd chants as one unit. They lift their glasses in the air and drink the last of their drinks for the night.
I blink at the small stage at the back of the bar. Dark curtains hide the small backstage, where I’m sure Sorcha and her band of women converge, cooling off after a show well done. My heart pounds when I remember the rush I felt jumping on that stage. It’s the one place I can let go of my rising tension and need to flee. It’s either that or running away from my issues on foot toward the only woman who ever gave a damn about me. I grind my teeth, taking a deep breath. Every worry in my life piles higher and higher on my shoulders.
My calculating eyes drift across the room toward the object of our newfound obsession—our ticket out of here. And the only reason I even agreed to come to this utter shithole tonight. Her. The girl with the perfect last name. The girl with our way out of this town and into the arms of a record deal—hopefully.
When Sorcha mentioned West records, I watched River’s nonexistent reaction. Her facial expressions barely moved, but I caught the slight twist of her face and the hate firing behind her mossy green eyes. If I had to wager a guess, River West hates her family with a fiery passion, which doesn’t bode well for us and our plan. If we expect to use her connections, then I don’t think we’re going to succeed. Not that way, at least. There has to be another way.
I can practically taste our future success on the tip of my tongue, and the cravings come back tenfold, churning in my gut. We need to leave and get out as a band of brothers running toward success. All before my father gets some bright idea about me taking over his company when I graduate from college in May. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever settle into a nine-to-five—but it’s what he’s depending on and what he’s been grooming me for since I was born. I’m his only son, and in turn, I’m the only person for the job. But I’ll be fucked if I step foot inside his business. It's not going to happen. The moment my college degree hits my hand after graduation, I'm gone. But it's never a bad idea to have a fallback degree if shit hits the fan with the band. Wherever I’m going in the future, I’ll be prepared.
My only solution… is well… her. Some way, somehow, we’re going to utilize her in some capacity. Even if Kieran has to propose to River, drag her to California with us, and throw her at West Record’s front door. I frown, thinking about our escape plan. We’ve saved through the years from each of our gigs in an effort to escape this hellhole, but we've never had enough to execute our plan, even with Rad and Callum running a dirt bike track and taking bets. It never seems to be enough to write home about. One day we’ll fucking get there. But today is not the day.
With fascination, I watch her from across the room, talking with patrons and laughing with them. One gentleman steps forward, handing her a wad of cash, and she grins, flirting back with the flutter of her eyelashes. Her brown hair hangs past her shoulders now, swaying when she laughs, throwing her head back. From here, I can hear the happy rasp in her voice when she knocks the guy on the shoulder. He nearly falls over from her push but rights himself and grins at her too. I take a drink of my beer, but I’m really drinking in my newest conquest.
“What the fuck?” Kieran hisses again as Rad holds him down. “Let me fucking go. I’m going to murder him. He’s touching what isn’t his,” he gripes, getting wrestled back into his seat.
Now, how do I make the one girl who won't look my way fall for me? Or slip into bed with me? I think about the quirk of her brow and the confusion earlier when I thanked her for the drinks. Honestly, I’m not an insufferable asshole all the time. Just sometimes. I run my fingers across my forehead, mentally groaning. Okay. I'm an asshole, but sometimes I can't help it. It just comes naturally to me whenever I'm not playing or listening to music. Music is my freedom, and being surrounded by it eases the tension in my chest. I can be wary about River but still execute our plan. Right?
I eye Kieran, the hopeless romantic. He’d do anything to have her as his possession. The image of him hand-feeding her strawberries and swirling whipped cream all over her body comes to mind. It’s pleasant imagery, and I’ll give him that. Somehow, I don’t think Kieran will ever give her up. Not without a fight. But for now, his behavior benefits us. She may want to hate him, but she can’t keep her eyes off us. And that’s what I wanted all along.
I bite my bottom lip, looking at Callum, who sits back in the booth with his eyes closed and earbuds in, ignoring our presence. Every few minutes, he peeks his eyes open, staring at her like a magnet pulling him in.
Tonight, it was like pulling his molars to get him to come out instead of staying on the couch and playing Xbox with Rad. They’ve had some sort of weird competition going on with some game called Angel Warrior for weeks. But now, I think he’s glad he ventured out. He’s not the type to hang at bars with crowds of people.
Rad talks a million miles a minute, the rum hitting him harder since starting his fourth damn drink. He grins and laughs, talking to people behind us, around us, and to anyone who will listen to his stupid stories. Rad never stops talking. The only time he seals his lips is when he’s macking on some chick and has his tongue down her throat.
And my dear stepbrother can’t stop his fascination from festering to the surface by keeping a keen eye on the short and demanding little manager flitting around the bar.
A loud snort pulls me from my musings, and I turn, looking toward the band sitting behind us. Sorcha and her merry band of women converge after a long, kick-ass set. They laugh and drink in celebration of a show well done. They’re a well-oiled machine, playing together like one person, and their music proves it. They have merch on a table near the back of the bar. They’re on the damn Dot app and have the most crucial person supporting them. A manager. Someone to schedule these things. Someone so organized, he got them a gig here and with West Records. We have Callum. He does most of our gigs. But to have someone else work on it as we make music would benefit us immensely.
I clench my jaw, pulling out my phone. Battle of the Bands. Hosted by West Records. Skimming the instructions, I take it all in.
Invitations have been sent to fifteen select bands from across the country. Submitted entries are being accepted for any unsigned bands starting September 1st–November 1st. We will select only five bands from the entries, and only twenty will compete. A one-million-dollar prize will be awarded, and a three-year record deal. December 15th, the Battle of the Bands will kick off at the KC Club in East Point, California.
Qualifications include: music present on the streaming app The Dot in the form of an EP, performance footage available on YouTube, a healthy following on ClockTok, and a prominent social media following.
I scroll through our meager social media pages and growl at the dwindling number of likes on each of them. How are we supposed to bring those numbers up in just a few months?
My body jolts up when a loud bang draws my attention to the middle of the empty floor, and my brows raise. River scowls at the broken glasses littering the floor and shakes her head. She’s two seconds away from telling the drunken idiot off but takes a breath, holding her professional composure. I have to commend her for her tongue-holding abilities.
“Watch where you’re going, bitch.”
I’m on my feet before I know what I’m doing and marching over there before Kieran can climb over Callum. A yelp and curses happen in the booth I vacated. My eyes narrow on the polo-wearing douche canoe standing before River, looking at her like she’s the scum of the earth, when he was the one who knocked drunkenly into her; his body sways on the spot.
“Fucking Central Cunt,” he hisses again, slurring his words and rocking back and forth with unfocused eyes.
“The fuck you say?” I growl, scooping the man by the shirt and bringing his face directly into mine. "Did you just say what I think you just fucking said?" I spit, shaking him with every word.
The stench of day-old beer and cigarettes sends bile up my throat and knots in my stomach, but realizing who this douchebag is, knocks me back. Bradley Bradford. Stupid name for a stupid shithead. His father’s the lovely mayor of this town, who conveniently keeps his rap sheet buried deep. I continue to hold him by the scruff of his shirt.
“Is that any way to talk to a lady?” I snarl, exposing my teeth.
“Down, Killer,” River murmurs from beside me, furrowing her brows. The warmth of her hand lingers on my chest when she holds me back. My breath shudders in my chest when her warm fingers dig into my flesh, and goosebumps erupt. An instant connection puts my hair on end, and a ringing fills my ears. Her glassy green eyes stare at me in warning. “I really need to invest in holy water. Did your demon disappear?”
My eyes pop wide when she suggests…. I’ve been... “I’m not possessed, you little brat,” I hiss, ignoring the tingling on my chest from her touch, igniting something deep in me, but I shake it off. I have a douchebag to obliterate for thinking he could even speak to her like that.
My attention snaps back to the scumbag currently turning fifty shades of red and fuming. Bradley’s fist raises shakily in the air until I toss him on his back, rejoicing in the useless air pouring from his lungs.
“The power of Christ compels you,” she murmurs, side-eyeing me with furrowed brows. “Christo!" she hisses, leaning close enough to examine my eyes. "You didn’t flinch…” She cocks her head, a grin exploding across her lush lips. "Worked for Dean." She shrugs.
I fight the smile threatening to pull at my lips and swallow my laugh by looking away. Me? Evil? Have I been that much of an asshole over the last few days? Fuck. Yeah. I have been. My lips pop open, ready to retort and apologize for my actions. But Kieran swoops in to save the damn day. This could have been my chance to show her I’m not the demonic assbag she thinks I am. I suppose I’ll have to rectify that one day at a time.
I'm not an insufferable asshole all the time, just occasionally. It's the facade I put on to deal with the world—especially my father. Show an ounce of weakness, and he picks it apart. His fist alone taught me too many hard lessons to soften to the world. But there's something about River West that softens my resolve and makes me want to throw caution to the wind and unwind. And that's what terrifies me.
“You okay, River Blue?” Kieran asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest.
I sigh, wishing I was the one comforting her. But what do I have to offer, anyway? Kieran has a rapport with her. Being his long-lost friend, my asshole father brainwashed him into forgetting and all. She’ll fall to her damn knees again for him. But for me? She'll light me on fire just to get warm.
“Bradley Bradford,” Rad whistles, standing above him with his arms crossed. “And my favorite lady,” Rad says through a drunken, dreamy smile, looking at her with envy, nestled in Kieran’s arms. “Don’t worry, Sugar Tits! We'll kick this piece of shit to the sidewalk.” Rad scrunches his nose, grinding his teeth.
Informative. Rad doesn’t get angry quickly, but at the sight of this man—he’s infuriated. To the naked eye, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But to me? Well, his curled fists, rigid muscles, and silent snarl tell a very long story. Bradley Bradford did something wrong in Rad’s eyes, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.
“Piece of rapist shit,” Rad hisses, grabbing Bradley by the shirt, causing him to stumble over his drunken feet, and dragging him toward the front door. He grunts, trying as hard as he can to drag the flailing idiot out. But all two-hundred and fifty pounds of Bradley protests. Rad tosses his hands in the air with frustration. “Help?” Rad says, narrowing his drunken eyes at us. Looking around, I eye the surrounding area looking for the bouncers I know exist, but I find none for help. Some fucking good they are they can’t even protect the one person they should. Well, fine, it’s our duty now.
“Ugh. I don’t need you guys to do this. You!” River snipes, removing Kieran’s arm from her shoulder, and points directly at Bradley, who is trying to stand on his wobbly feet. I bite back a smile when a wet spot forms on the front of his jeans. He groans, slumping against the front of the stage. That’s right. You utter waste of space. Pee your pants like a child. “Get the fuck out of my bar, man.”
Bradley chuckles like he has a chance and stumbles forward directly into my arms. “Get the fuck off me,” he slurs, pushing against my chest.
“Not happening,” I growl, dragging his thrashing body out the front door and literally tossing him onto the sidewalk.
“And don’t come back here,” River says, shaking her head. A paleness takes over her face when she pushes past us and waltzes back into the bar without a word of thanks.
“If I ever catch you talking to, touching, or even thinking about her, I’ll rip your scrotum in half. Fucking leave before I do it,” Kieran hisses, popping his knuckles directly above Bradley, who groans, rolling around on the sidewalk.
Well, that’s one way to threaten a guy who touches the girl you’re currently obsessed with.
“Fuck, I’m going to see how she is,” Kieran grumbles, swiping a hand down his face.
“She’s a big girl,” I say, raising a brow. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“She will be in a minute,” Rad says, rubbing his hand together. “I’m about to gag her into next week,” he cackles, running back into the bar like a kid marching down the stairs on Christmas Day.
Kieran stares after him, shaking his head with a frown.
“Before you go to pound town,” I murmur, pulling my phone from my pocket. “I wanted to share a little tidbit I picked up today. It was just announced at like 2 a.m.” I grin, shoving my phone into his waiting hands. I can tell by the sour look on his face that he’s not impressed that I’m holding him up. But it blows into a grin when he reads the rules of Battle of the Bands. “To qualify for Battle of the Bands, we need an EP and an entry video, and having our own merch would help our chances.” Excitement spears through me at the chance to finally get there.
“Battle of the fucking Bands,” he muses, scrolling through my phone, and nods.
“Imagine we get her to help with all this,” I murmur, gesturing toward the list of requirements.
Callum nods and licks his lips, abashedly looking toward the bar with a red tint enveloping his cheeks. “We get all that; then we can get the hell away from here.”
“And her?” Kieran asks like the knight in shining armor he is.
I raise a brow at his meaning and shrug. “What about her?” I ask calmly, but I know exactly what he’s going to say.
We went after her for a reason; we can’t abandon ship now. And hell, maybe I don’t want to jump into the churning sea without a safety net to catch us in the end. But there's something about River that draws me into her flame, burning me whole.
“If she gets to know us and falls for us, she can help us achieve all this, and then we make it to the Battle of the Bands? What next? What if we get signed? We can...” Kieran trails off, biting into his bottom lip with unease.
He doesn’t want to leave her here in the dust. With his obsession growing every second, he wants to take her with us. I can see it in his pleading eyes. And who am I to deny my brother? Even if it’s just soothing him until the time comes. From a mile away, I can see the distraction River is going to bring to us in the future. She’ll pull my brothers apart as they eat away at her attention, begging for more bones.
