Page 48 of Songbird: Black Kite
“Not a chance,” I snarled, stepping back. “We aren’t going there. We will never go there again, so just fuck off.” My voice was loud, and I knew that everyone else was listening, but I was past giving a shit. I needed her to understand I was absolutely done. “When are you going to get it through your head that I don’t want you. I will never want you. So stop with this bullshit, Victoria, because desperate slut is not a good look on you.”
I turned to walk away, already missing my Bird, but in true Tori fashion, she had to have the last word.
“You are going to regret this, Hawk,” she snarled before pushing past Charlie and storming back to the front of the bus, scowling at one of the roadies until he stood and gave her his seat.
“I already do,” I muttered, reaching into my pocket for another one of Ronnie’s magic green pills. “I fucking regret everything.” Popping the pill into my mouth, I washed it down with another swig of vodka, ignoring Alex’s pointed stare as he headed my way.
“Hawk,” he called as I tried to turn away. “Dude, wait.”
“Fucking what?”
Alex circled me, coming to stand between me and the bedroom door, his faced etched with concern.
“You high?” he asked, and I looked away, hating the shame that started to crawl up my throat.
“Alex,” I sighed, trying to push past him, but he stopped me with a hand on my chest.
“No, answer the fucking question, Hawk. Are you high right now?”
“It’s just a little Molly,” I muttered, placing my hand over his. His skin was warm, and I could feel the hairs on the back of his hand where they tickled my palm. It felt nice. “It’s not a big deal, man.”
He studied me, his eyes searching mine, looking for the lie. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d lied to him about shit like this, but for once, I was telling the truth.
“You sure that’s all it is?”
“Other than this,” I answered, holding up the bottle, “and a little grass. Now, you gonna let me go see my girl?”
“Your girl?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Considering how hard you’re rollin’ right now, I bet she feels like she’s yours, doesn’t she?”
He was right, but there was also something more to it.
I wanted to fuck her. Of course I did. I’d fucked a lot of women in the last decade.
But there was something special about my Bird, something that felt like more than just lust.
Even if that was the predominant sensation running through my body at the moment.
“I’m good, Alex,” I promised, and he nodded, accepting me at my word.
“Have a good night, Hawk.” He slapped his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye out for that red-headed bitch. Make sure she stays out of your shit tonight.”
“Thanks, man. I love you. You know that, right?”
Alex laughed, his head thrown back, and the sound practically danced over my skin.
“I bet you do, you sappy fuck.”
Chapter twenty-nine
Wren
Fifteen Years Ago
IwassittingonHawk Jameson’s bed.
I mean, it was the bed the band apparentlyshared—which I wasn’t going to think too hard about—and it was at the back of the tour bus, but as far as I was concerned, it was his.
“Okay,” I muttered to myself, taking a few deep breaths. “Be cool. Donotembarrass yourself. You are a confident, mature woman who can be on a rock star’s bed. You will not be awkward.”
