The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(272)

Ben sat at the table, sighing a dozen times over a short glass of Jack Daniels. I felt awful because a part of me knew I was the reason he had to tell Bentley to leave. It was the man he loved versus his daughter and his career. I was grateful he’d chosen his career and me because there were people I knew who would choose a man over their own child… over their own future. I couldn’t fill the hole I knew was carved into his chest with my love. My daughterly love wasn’t the kind of love he was seeking.

I hadn’t seen Ben so down since my mom robbed us of everything. It was my senior year and Ben and I had taken a mini trip to Virginia Beach so he could take care of some business. When we got back home, the house was completely destroyed. Most of our valuables were gone—the TVs, the silverware, the chinaware, our couches… even our beds were stolen. Everything was missing and we knew it was my mom who’d done it. She was envious, angry that I’d finally decided to move in with Ben. She’d threatened us a million times, but we never thought she would actually go through with it.

The only thing that was left in that apartment the day we were robbed that made me actually think she cared about me were my art supplies. They were untouched, sitting in the same corner of the room, and seeing that made me break down.

Ben and I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment and didn’t have much money after he was laid off his job, so losing all of that killed us. It killed him. He was out of employment and he hated how much he couldn’t support me, but every little bit he got, he spent on me to make me happy. When he was offered the position of manager for FireNine a few weeks after, everything picked up. He worked hard and in the end got everything back. It took time, but he did it. He’d even bought a bigger house and since he’d given me the only bedroom of his apartment, I told him to take the master room of the new house. I insisted because he bought it and he deserved it. He simply declined, telling me he wanted to give me the world and more. After a while, I stopped bickering with him and accepted it. I could never thank Ben enough for his generosity.

I snapped out of my memories, hugging Ben as we talked about his situation with Bentley a little. He told me exactly what he said to Bentley:

“I’m tired of hearing about you hurting your son. You almost hurt my daughter. We can’t do this anymore, Bentley. You have to go. It’s hurting the band… I’m sorry, but… you’re fired.”

It hurt me to hear the words come out of his mouth because with each word his voice cracked. By the end of our talk, Ben had downed his fifth glass and hurried off to his room, slamming the door shut behind him before anyone could see his tears fall. I knew he was crying. I heard his sniffling and weeping as I went to the bathroom for a shower. Each sob hit against one of my nerves, making me feel guilty. In the back of my mind, I knew I really was to blame; he just didn’t want it to seem like it was my fault.

If I never would have stepped in and helped Deed, Bentley would probably still be around and Deed would have just brushed it off like always. If I never would have joined the tour, Gage could have been around Deed more and Deed wouldn’t have been getting hurt, abused. He would’ve had someone to cover him and be by his side each night. Bentley wouldn’t have been looking for him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit him while he was with the band. The boys could have been playing and the show never would have gotten cancelled. It hurt me more than anything to know that my dad was unhappy—to know that Gage made a promise to Deed but broke it to spend more time with me, a girl he’d just met. A girl he was just getting to know.

But what hurt me most of all was the bothersome fact that Ben didn’t come out of his room until the following afternoon.





FEEL AGAIN

Everyone decided it was best to leave Chicago and get settled in New York City since the show had been cancelled. There were two things that bothered me a lot about being in New York. One was that we were going to be staying for a whole week since the band wasn’t going to play until the weekend. The other thing, though I tried so hard to stop thinking about, was that it would be my last week on tour.

My first thoughts of the tour were that it was going to be shitty and a complete waste of my time. All of that changed for some reason. Maybe because for the first time, I had friends. For the first time, I enjoyed spending time with a guy—a really hot guy at that. He wasn’t just an ordinary person. He considered himself one, but to me he wasn’t. He was Gage Grendel. A rock god.

I noticed I wasn’t being as open on going out with Gage as I had been before. For the first two nights, Gage didn’t think much on it and didn’t hesitate to leave. He’d kiss me good-bye and then he’d head out with Montana and Roy. Deed was stuck in the trailer, being taken care of by a few ladies Montana picked up for him, along with a real nurse. He had to get better by the weekend, and I was kind of glad for the girls by his side. At least he was a strong guy. At least he was smiling again.

Witnessing Deed being abused by his own stepdad kept taking me back. After so many years of forgetting about it, it registered that I’d gone through the same thing at one point, and thinking about it horrified me. I was forcing smiles at everyone and zoning out so much, hoping no one would notice. I’d sulk on the sofa when everyone would go out and when it got late and still no one was around, I’d sink into bed, curl into a ball, and do what I hated most.

Cry.

I hated crying. I hated feeling weak. I was strong. I knew I was, but I couldn’t get over it. I couldn’t get over how my mom could just let my stepdad have his way with me. How she could just allow a man to hurt her only little girl? Her own flesh and blood.

Sometimes she would defend me and only sometimes—only if she wanted something from me. If she wanted me to go “grab” something from the store or “pick up” a few bucks from my friends on the streets. I was terrible and I hated myself for it.

The tears kept falling, but I swiped at my face as hard as I could. I didn’t want any trace of them on me. I didn’t want the tears because of the pain she caused me. I just wanted to sleep and eventually, with the cool pillows and my tired eyes, I didn’t fight it. I succumbed.

I stirred in my sleep as visions of Gage appeared. He was everywhere and at one point I swore I heard him speaking. Groggily twisting my body to try and rid myself of him, I heard him call my name again and my eyelids flew open. I gasped, spotting him bending over me, his hand on my waist, his hazel eyes narrowed with confusion.

“Eliza, what’s wrong?”

I pulled away, shaking my head and pushing up to place my back against the headboard in a flash. Where the hell did he come from? My eyes were still tired and I noticed it was no longer dark. The sun was high in the sky, streaking in through the window and onto Gage’s beautiful face. He blinked quickly, moving his hand up my waist, but I pulled away with a sigh and climbed out of bed.

“Eliza,” he called as I kept my back to him. I was sure I looked like complete shit. I felt way worse than a pile of dog poop.

“Hmm?” I responded, bending down to unzip my suitcase.

Gage was quiet and I wanted to look over my shoulder to see him, but I knew the look on his face. I could feel his frustration. “Are you upset that I went out again last night?” he asked. “If so, we can go out tonight. I can make it up to you—”

“No.” I shook my head but kept my gaze down. Great, he thought I was mad at him. I dug into my suitcase to find my most comfortable outfit. I came across a pair of dark-blue denim jeans along with a light-blue denim shirt. It would do for today.

Sighing, I stood and turned around but gasped as I got caught in Gage’s arms. When the hell did he get so close?

“What’s wrong, Eliza?” he asked, his gaze lowering to my lips.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m fine.” I lied. We were close and I couldn’t help but breathe unsteadily. I wanted his lips, but then again I didn’t because by the end of this week, this fling between us would be over and I hated how quickly it was coming to an end. It was right around the corner and he’d be back to sleeping with random girls and partying with a different chick on his arm. He might even go back to Penelope.

“If you’re upset with me about last night…”

“I’m not,” I breathed. It was true. I wasn’t. I really didn’t even think about him last night. I was too worried about myself to even bring him to mind much. I was sure he popped in somewhere; I just didn’t know where exactly.

“Then why are you avoiding me? You pulled away from me like…” His head lowered and he stared at the floor. His eyelashes touched his cheekbones and I had the urge to move in and kiss his cheek, but I didn’t. I remained perfectly still.

It got so quiet that it became uncomfortable so I started pulling away again, but he tightened his arms around me, his eyes darting up to meet mine. “Why are you pulling away?” he asked, his breath running across my cheek.

I squeezed the back of his shirt, suddenly feeling weak at the knees because behind his question was a completely different meaning. He knew just as well as I did that our time was about to come to an end. He knew…