Page 16 of Real Rocks
When I was back at home, I checked my phone again before trying to get some sleep.
No new messages.
The doubt nibbling at me earlier grew teeth and took hold.
What if Jason had been right and there was something going on between Saff and Scott.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I opened my dad’s message again.
Twenty words trying to make up for several years of neglect, particularly these past few months.
At least he was trying.
Whether it was the alcohol or the disconnect between Saff and I right now, I didn’t know.
Before I could change my mind, I typed backOkay. Where and when?and pressed send.
11
Saff
Despite the Cardiff show only being the second of the tour dates, it was an amazing gig.
The crowd for TheSB was bigger than last night and the reception Scott and I got forWasted By My Sidewas something like I’d never experienced. The adrenaline rush, the flush creeping over my skin, it was almost as good as sex with Tris. Almost.
We were staying in the city for the night. The next gig wasn’t until Saturday, so we had all day Friday to head up to Birmingham, before the final date on Sunday in Manchester—the homecoming show for Trash Gun.
Scott suggested we head out to a club and I was on such a high, I thought it was a good idea.
What I hadn’t expected was an exclusive VIP area which we basically had to ourselves. It was the two bands and a few of the sound techs. I was the only female. To be fair, it was something I was used to.
If there were any other women around, they would only be after one thing - Scott.
He slung a protective arm around my shoulders as soon as we sat down in the booth, effectively trapping me inside. My gut told me to get away, go back to the hotel and call Tris.
Shit.
I remembered I hadn’t made contact with him today. We usually talked after a gig, but it was a Thursday night and it was—I sneaked a look at my phone—after midnight. He’d be working in the morning on the job the other side of London, so he’d have an early start. Trying to call him now would be a mistake. I’d only end up waking him and he’d get angry with me.
Who was I trying to kid? Tris never got mad at me. He got mad at people who were trying to hurt me. The guy in the car park… Carl.
The thought of Carl’s name made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver shot down my spine. To think of him and that night brought on a sense of panic, despite the fact I hadn’t heard from him in a while. I wriggled in my seat.
“You okay?” asked Darren from the other side of the table. He’d obviously sensed a change in my mood.
I nodded. The music was too loud to be able to explain to him how I felt without letting the entire entourage know what I was thinking. “Yeah, fine,” I yelled instead.
A round of tequila appeared on the table and I sank the first shot without any difficulty. If all else failed, I could get completely obliterated and forget all about Carl.
Several rounds later, I was feeling no pain at all.
I glanced around the booth and noticed everyone else had melted away, leaving Scott, me and a couple of other women there. Groupies, I guessed from the way they were primping and preening in front of him.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I announced and shoved Scott out of the way.
As I walked away, I heard one of the women say something about how relieved she was I was leaving. I had been right in my line of thinking.
There weren’t many people in the restroom and I quickly found a cubicle. Locking the door behind me, I sat down and took the opportunity to look at my phone for messages.
