Page 37 of Real Rocks
“We can talk again in the morning,” said the duty solicitor. “And if you need me to call anyone, I can arrange it.” She extended her hand. I shook it, not feeling at all confident in her limp handshake.
Almost in a daze, I followed the detective back through the custody suite, pausing in the open door of the cell I’d been allocated. I stepped inside, flinching as the door slammed shut behind me.
Although I was dog tired, I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I dragged my broken body towards the bed and curled up, nursing my injuries.
In spite of everything, all that had happened, I thought how Saff was absolutely worth it.
Every. Fucking. Bruise.
23
Saff
Strong arms enveloped me, catching me as I fell.
But they weren’t Tris’ arms.
Darren stroked my hair, making soothing noises as I broke down. Tears streamed down my face as I watched helplessly while they took Tris away. Barney and Tommo joined us, standing in front of us, effectively shielding me from any prying eyes.
“What happened?” asked Barney, concern radiating from his eyes.
“Carl…blackmail…Tris…” I choked, barely making any sense.
I felt Darren’s body tense. “Why was Carl here?”
Taking a deep breath, I composed myself, dragging a hand over my face, trying to wipe the tears away. “He wanted money.”
“For what?” Darren’s brows knotted together.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “To stop him selling pictures of me taking heroin. He’s been sending me messages, making threats, then tonight he turned up here, demanding the cash we’d made from the tour.”
Bile rose in my throat as I told the truth at last. Keeping it from my band mates had been a mistake. I knew that now. After all, they had been there the night it happened, Darren in particular had been part of the rescue party.
“I’ll kill the cheeky little fucker,” hissed Darren.
I didn’t want to tell him I thought that’s what Tris had been trying to do.
“How long’s he been doing that for?” demanded Tommo. “Christ, I’m so sorry you ever met him.” He turned away.
“It’s not your fault.” I reached up a hand to him. “You didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“But if he hadn’t been at my party, you wouldn’t have met him.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reiterated.
If there was any blame to lay, it would be squarely at my door. If I hadn’t blocked Tris out of my life when he’d admitted to being in prison, if I hadn’t have gone to the party, if I hadn’t been so confused and angry… or needed to abuse substances to block out how I was feeling. I screwed up my eyes.
One of the bar staff appeared with a glass of water and I gladly accepted it, gulping it down, trying to settle my stomach.
“Um, we thought it best we close up now, so if you’re ready, could you go?” Her eyes darted between us, looking embarrassed to tell us to leave.
“Saff?” The guys all turned to me.
I knew she was only doing her job. It wasn’t every day there was a ruckus at The Matchbox, I was sure. She could have given me a little more time though. With great effort, I pulled myself up, still unsteady on my heels. I wished I’d had the sense to bring some Converse to change into after the gig.
“Sure, I imagine you have a lot of clearing up to do.” I thought of the blood which had been spilled in the corridor and shuddered.
She smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Instantly, I knew she wanted to be rid of us. I glanced towards the bar, where Scott and the rest of his band still appeared to be drinking and partying. Catching me watching him, Scott raised his glass and gave me a broad grin. My mouth curled into a sneer. I needed to get out of there.
