Real Ugly(23)

“Naomi?”

I turn around and find a blonde in dark washed jeans and a red T-shirt. I don't know his name, but I know he plays bass in Turner's band. He's standing on the bottom step of the bus and holding the screen open with one hand. In the other, he has a book. I trust him right away.

I take a step forward.

“Yeah?”

The man smiles.

“Hey, I know you don't know me, but my name is Joshua Drake. I was wondering if I could talk to you for just a sec? It's about Turner.”

A smile stretches hard across my lips, and I head for the door of the bus with a very specific purpose in mind – pissing off Turner Campbell.





I fuck around the city for awhile, hitting up a few bars and stumbling half-drunk back to the parking lot where the buses are parked for the night. I find a lot of girls that night, but I turn them all down. Cannot stop thinking about Naomi Knox.

That was her? I wonder for the hundredth time. I'm still having a hard time believing she was the one that walked in on me fucking that roadie. Was that when we first met? Is that why she hates me? Nah. Well, maybe a little. But that isn't it. There's something else, something more.

When I hit the bus, I pause next to our bodyguard – can't remember his name for shit – and squint at him with tired eyes.

“Naomi stop by for me?” I ask, and the man smirks. Makes me want to hit him in the fucking face. Who the fuck does he think he is? “What's your problem, man?” I growl when he just stares at me. He doesn't speak, doesn't bother to answer my question, and I swear on my fucking cock that I'm about to fire his ass when I hear moans emanating out from the bus. Normally, I'd just ignore that shit, but the look on the bodyguard's face tells me that there's something else going on here.

I tear up the steps and pound down the bus into the bunk area, snatching Josh's curtain back so hard that it comes off the rod and falls to the floor.

Naomi Knox is completely topless, draped over Josh's shirtless chest with one of his gloved hands resting on her lower back. The blankets are covering their lower halves, so I have no idea how far this has gotten, but it doesn't matter; I'm seeing fucking red. I am blinded by it.

“What the fuck, man?” My voice explodes in a roar and next thing I know, I'm grabbing Josh by the hair and yanking him out of the bunk and onto the floor. Naomi rolls to the side and comes up on her feet behind me, dressed only in her fucking panties.

Josh comes up swinging and I'm glad to see that he's still got his boxers on. Good. If he'd have fucked her, I'd have killed him. Why that is exactly, I have no fucking clue, but I'm drunk off my ass, and well, let's just say inhibitions … what inhibitions?

“Screw you, you motherfucking whore,” Josh screams as he smashes me hard in the jaw and sends me stumbling back into Naomi. “You don't deserve her. You don't deserve any woman, you piece of shit!” Soft flesh presses against me as Naomi and I collapse to the floor, and then it hits me, this memory of a girl pressed against into a bed, eyes wide with tears rolling down her cheeks. I can hear the words, I love you, over and over and over again, and then it just fades, blacked out by a rush of alcohol, and I'm up and swinging again.

Josh's nose cracks under my fists and blood sprays out across my face as I pummel him back against the bathroom door and pin him there nice and tight, getting so close up that we could fucking kiss.

“You touch her again, and I will fucking kill you,” I tell him, watching his blue eyes shimmer with rage and his jaw shake. Josh is young, too fucking young, and he isn't one of us. I think that's what pisses me off so much. Jesse, Ronnie, Treyjan, and I went to high school together. We survived shit together. And then Travis dies, and we get this fucker as a replacement, this bottle sucking baby who can't even drink yet, and he … he, what, Turner? What did he do wrong? I step back suddenly and throw my arms up.

Josh wipes his hand across his bloody face and glares at me, trembling like a fucking cougar ready to strike. He's not done yet, so I take another step back to get out of range.

Out of range of Josh that is; Naomi is a whole other story.

She spins me around and grabs my face in her hands, coming close enough that I can smell her – a mixture of cigarette smoke and laundry detergent.

“You are not a fucking hero!” she shouts at me, digging her nails into my cheeks and drawing blood. My hands come up and wrap her wrists tight, attempting to push her back, but she's stronger than she looks, and I'm drunk off my ass, so we end up in a complete standstill. “You're not saving me from anything!”

“Let go of me, you fucking cunt,” I snarl as she presses her forehead into mine. I can hear Josh panting from behind me, and the rage boils up again. Now, I want to beat them both up, Naomi and Josh. I try to move her back with the weight of my body, but she holds tight and we end up crashing together, front to front, and then I find my hands sliding around her waist and caressing her body, feeling up the plump flesh of her ass, the gentle curve of her back, her tits.