Rise by Cassandra Robbins

 

 

 

 

RHYS

Past – Twenty-seven years old

Minneapolis, Minnesota

I glance over at Gia as she sits looking out the window. I know she’s been hanging out with Nuke and my road crew, which I shouldn’t care about, but I do. Jealousy. It’s a new emotion for me.

“You’re too thin,” looking over at her. Her big eyes stare at me like I’ve insulted her, but it’s true. She looks thinner than even a few days ago. My need to feed and protect her kicks in.

Christ, what’s happening to me? I almost grin at my caveman thoughts. I need to feed my woman before we mate.

“You hungry?”

“I’m starving,” she snips and takes her hair down, running her fingers through her long curls as she recrosses her legs. It’s a simple thing; I’ve seen hundreds of women do the very same thing. But there’s something about Gia, the way she moves. She’s graceful and delicate, fierce and determined.

My hands tighten on the leather steering wheel. My chest almost burns for her, which aggravates me. And just like that, I hear music. It’s like she’s my muse.

I clear my throat. I’m acting like a fucking teenager excited to have a girl sit next to me, not a twenty-seven-year-old man who’s a goddamn rock star.

I should have let Misty blow me earlier. That was stupid on my part. Could’ve taken the edge off.

But my dick wants only one woman, and I’ve got her sitting next to me. Let’s be honest—I’m a depraved fuck, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I crave her. I’m ready to lock her in my room, eat her cunt, fuck her so hard she’s raw, then turn her around and claim her ass. Maybe tie her to my bed, feed her, and bathe her.

I take a breath. I need to get off the freeway and find a place to eat. I can’t believe I don’t trust myself to be alone with her.

But I don’t.

I make a U-turn and pull into a place called Bunny’s. It’s a big place and the parking lot is crowded. Fuck it, I’ll take my fans interrupting me rather than have to fight myself.

Yeah, I need to get out of here. This energy that is us is suffocating. Christ. I’m like a dog that smells a bitch in heat.

I turn off the engine and look over at her. She sits, arms crossed, completely shutting herself off and staring out the passenger side window. It pisses me off.

“Look, Brat—”

“Stop calling me that,” she hisses. She’s wild, untamed. Again, my cock responds.

Mine.

“God, Rhys.” She grabs her bag and throws open the door. “Do you even hear yourself?” She slams it before I can respond.

“Christ.” I twist around to the back seat for the beanie I was wearing this morning. I take a breath before I vault outside into the fucking Minnesota winter.

Gia’s already at the doors waiting as she jumps up and down, her hair falling around her shoulders like a waterfall of dark chocolate.

She’s beautiful and she knows it. That’s a dangerous combination. My cock throbs. I was hoping the frigid cold would make it calm down, but the thought of dominating her overrules even the weather.

Screw this. I should take her to the bathroom and fuck her in a stall. Slam my cock into her warm, wet cunt over and over.

Then we can enjoy breakfast, or is it lunch?

“You do know you’re human, right? Like you’re not really a god,” she says tightly, dipping under my arm as I hold open the door. “You can’t just demand and say rude things. I’m grossed out how much you’ve let fame—”

“Shhh.” I grab her, causing her to gasp as we both look at the hostess.

“Two, please.” I smile, using the waitress as an excuse to dip my nose into Gia’s vanilla-scented neck.

“Welcome to Bunn… Oh my God. Ohmyyyygod.” The hostess does what they all do and starts screaming, then covers her mouth as if that’s gonna help.

“Dear God.” Gia pulls away and rolls her eyes. “Can we sit in there?” She points at a room to the right. Looks like there are pool tables there, but no one is playing.

“Of course. Oh wow.” She fans herself with a menu. “I’m your number one fan. This is so amazing. I’m going to the concert tonight. And… Oh my God, you’re here.” She looks like she might start crying, so I take pity on her and let go of Gia to take the menu.

“Do you have a pen?”

She looks at me, then grabs one, her hands shaking. Any other time I would talk to her. She’s cute in a good-girl way. But all I can think about is Gia and the confused, almost sad look she’s giving us.

Again, anger rises in my chest. What the fuck is wrong with her? Not that she has to be impressed, but she doesn’t have to look like she feels pity for me.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

Gia huffs loudly, which I ignore and focus on the hostess.

“It’s Teri. My name is Teri…” I scribble my standard autograph when I come to a bar and hand it back to her.

“Is there a bartender on?”

All she does is shake her head yes, clutching the menu to her breast. As I take Gia’s hand, I walk us to the back area and nod at a stunned couple sitting on a bench as we pass.

It’s dark, and it looks like this area doesn’t get busy until later, so I pick the corner table and look for someone to get me a drink.

“I’ll go get us some menus and see if I can ask them not to tell everyone you’re here.” Gia shimmies out of her coat, tossing it onto the other chair. As she goes to walk by, I reach for her delicate wrist.

She wears an oversized, soft gray sweater and dark skinny jeans. Again, that fierce protectiveness comes over me.

“I don’t want you hanging out with Nuke anymore.”

“What?” She puffs out as if she’s having a hard time catching her breath.

“Just sit.” I kick out the chair, tug her down, and scoot the chair close so that her legs are in between mine. My hands go to rub her legs up and down as I formulate how much I actually want to tell her.

“Rhys,” she whispers, her lips parted, but her eyes dart around as if she doesn’t trust me.

Wise. I wouldn’t trust me either. She leans back to let the waitress set down the menus.

“Hi, I’m Dawn and I’ll be your waitress.” She waves her hand for a busboy to set down some waters.

“We’re ready.” I take the menu from Gia’s hand.

“Rhys, just st—”

“Two bacon cheeseburgers, french fries for one, and onion rings for the other, medium rare and Tabasco.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Bottle of Jack Daniel’s.” She’s frantically writing but that stops her. “Oh.” Her eyes dart to mine, then Gia’s. “We can’t serve the bottle, Mr. I mean… Granger.”

“I’ll pay extra.” I flash her a smile. It depends on the place, but ninety percent of the time it works. Then again, this joint actually has people in it, so I put her out of her misery. “That’s okay. How about four shots of Jack and the food.”

The waitress, who doesn’t even look like she’s out of high school, sighs and smiles.

“I can do that.” She turns, then comes back with, “Can I just say it’s an honor to have you in he—”

“Stop, please. Look I’m a vegetarian,” Gia interrupts her, causing the poor waitress to drop her pad as if Gia’s the one who scares her. I lean back in my chair and smile. This is us: a constant push and pull.

“I’ll have fruit and some sourdough toast.”

“Just bring us what I ordered,” I demand. The waitress looks over at Gia who glares at me like I’m a monster.

“And toast and fruit,” Gia demands right back.

“Um. I’ll go get your drinks.” The waitress turns and almost bumps into a busboy. She tugs him along with her. Our energy is so volatile, even the poor waitress is running from us.

“Why are you acting like this? I can order for myself. I’ve been doing it my whole—”

“Why are you a liar?” That makes her eyes narrow.

“I have to use the restroom.” She stands, grabbing her bag.

“Sit down. I have a few things I want to say.” I jerk her back into the chair, our faces inches apart.

“I. Have. To. Pee. You lunatic.”

“Hold it.” I scowl.

She blinks at me, her face flushed with anger. “What’s happened to you?” She stands again. “I’m going to the restroom unless you’d like me to squat right here.” She kicks the chair back and walks toward the restroom sign.

“Fuck.” I toss my cigarettes on the table, pick up my phone, and toss that too. I have zero desire to see what’s going on. All I care about is the green-eyed witch I’m obsessed with. While I wait for her, I look around at the room, grinning at a random lyric that infiltrates my head.

Like a switch on the wall, you turn me on. A smile, a laugh, a wink and nod. And all the while you turn me on.

You turn me on.

“So here we go.” The waitress comes by, jolting me out of Rhysland and back into the real world. She places what looks like two double shots in front of me.

“Thanks.” I smile at her but get distracted by Gia coming out of the restroom. She slides her sunglasses on dramatically as she holds up her hands at a group of people talking to her. And I can’t stop myself from smiling.

I like her a lot.

“God.” She sits. Putting the sunglasses back on top of her head, she looks down at the massive glass of whiskey in front of her and wrinkles her nose.

“Can I get a cup of coffee, please?” She smiles at the waitress and the whole room lights up. I almost reach for my heart.

“You betcha.” She rushes behind the bar area.

Gia pushes the whiskey toward me. She’s put on makeup and smells like vanilla. I lean over to inhale her.

“Here you go, fresh coffee.” The waitress dumps it in front of her and turns to me. “I hope I’m not bothering you and all… but can I get a selfie with you?”

“Of course.” I stand as she squeals, then shyly moves toward me, but she’s small and can’t seem to get us in the shot.

Gia sets down her coffee. “Here, let me.” She takes the waitress’s phone. I sling an arm around her shoulder and smile and the waitress instantly bursts into tears.

Perfect.

I give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m so embarrassed. But you’re the Rock God.” She laughs and cries at the same time, trying to smile at Gia.

“Nah, I’m just a dick. Ask her.” I motion my head at Gia who is busy snapping photos.

“It’s true, he’s a dick.” Gia smiles at the waitress. “Here, I got some great ones,” she says, handing the phone back.

“Thank you.” She turns as three other waitresses come in with our food.

“Can we—” I stop them because this is how it starts.

“How about you let me eat with my girl and I’ll take pictures and sign shit on the way out.”

“Thank you, Granger.” They all start giggling and grab each other’s arms as they walk out. A bunch of people peek in, but so far it looks like we might be able to eat without being interrupted.

I hold the chair out for Gia who has that look on her face again. “Let’s just eat.”

“Thank God, I’m famished.” She sits and grabs an onion ring from my plate. “Shoot, I was going to ask for ranch dressing, but I can’t handle any more of your fans.”

“Agreed.”

She completely ignores her fruit and toast and picks up the cheeseburger.

“Cured of your vegetarianism?” I raise an eyebrow at her. She’s fantastic, even though I want to strangle her.

She waves her hand in front of her face. “Please. I would never be a vegetarian. I love meat.” My cock jumps as she turns pink but continues, “I just hate you ordering for me, that’s all.”

For a moment, I let that register. I’m so used to doing things my way, but she’s right. No one ever tells me no.

“You’re right,” reaching for the Tabasco to dump on my onion rings.

She stops eating for a second and picks up her coffee. “You know you could slow down, Rhys. Everything moves so fast with you.” Her eyes dip to my plate, which now only contains onion rings. I ate the burger in three bites.

“And I get it, I really do. You’re trying to stay one step ahead of all this.” She motions to the room with her hands. “But if all you’re doing is racing to get to the finish line, you’ll only keep things growing bigger: your music, concerts, fans.”

She sets down her coffee and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Do you ever get to be you anymore, or are you really the Rock God now?”

I lean back as if she’s gut punched me. I’ve never actually put into words how I’ve been living, because I thought it was way too complicated for anyone to understand. Yet she summarized it while sipping coffee.

“I’ve been running for a lot of years. I’d like to think that there is still a piece of the real me left. Having you here…” I pick up the highball glass and gaze at the amber liquor as my mind drifts. “Having you around centers me.” I toss back the whole double shot of Jack Daniel’s, barely even tasting it.

She takes a breath then picks up her burger. “Speaking of the real you, maybe you should call your mom?”

I lean back in the chair. “That’s something that’s not up for discussion.”

“She’s sick, but she loves you.” She sets down her burger.

I shake my head. My mom and anything to do with her is something I try to avoid. “I give her money, bought her a fantastic house in Brentwood that she refuses to move into. I’ve had my fill of doctor calls and updates. So…” I grab the other shot and down it, breathing out the fumes as I look around for the waitress to get me another.

“Now I guess it’s up to her.” I slam the glass down.

“It’s not your fault. There’s no reason for you to pretend she doesn’t exist.” Her green eyes are filled with compassion, only she has zero idea what my mom was—is—really like.

She doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a child, scared and alone, watching your mom fall apart. The true hell of seeing her become someone you don’t recognize. That is the real me. That is my pain. It’s all consuming and rather unforgiving.

I was the child, yet I spent my first eighteen years taking care of her. Lived in fear, in terror of becoming like her. Christ, I’m happy when I wake up and find I’m still me.

Highs and lows, exhausting and painful. “Yes, she’s definitely sick, always has been. It’s too bad she won’t stay on her medication.” I stand up and grab my cigarettes. “I’m gonna go smoke, and we need to get back. You should take a nap.”

“Rhys?” She stands also. “I shouldn’t have—”

“What, Gia?” I lean down. “Drop it. I have a show in four hours.” Then I leave her and walk into the main dining room.

“Granger. Dude, welcome to Minnesota.” A couple to my right jump up with a pen and a napkin. I smile and start signing autographs. They love me, and I let them heal me.

Gone is the terrified boy.

In his place is a god. I laugh and take pictures.

This is what I do.

This is me.

How dare she remind me? I’m at peace not visiting my mom. The pain and emotional agony are too much to handle, especially because she could get help and won’t. I’ve begged her so many times. Sent the best doctors to her house.

It’s been five years since I’ve seen her. I went home to surprise her for her birthday. The house was a pit. No one should have to live in such filth, yet there she was, lying in bed with no sheets or blankets, unable to get up, and staring at a wall. The smell from her, along with the numerous drugs, was the last straw. I called Rafe and he brought in the best doctors. I even stayed and missed things I had to do with the band to help her. But as soon as she was admitted to that hospital, she was complaining about how she hated the way the medication made her feel.

And that was the last straw. I haven’t been back since. I pay people to come in and clean. I pay people to give her meds that she refuses. Some wounds are yours and yours alone. They own you, and you let them live inside you, fueling you, making sure you never have to see or be near that wound again.

“Rhys?” I turn and focus on Gia. She has her bag and holds my phone as she pushes her way to my side.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes blink back tears as if she understands my demons. She can’t. No one can.

“Let’s go.” She takes my hand. She has the softest skin, like whipped cream. I almost laugh—she has no idea how deep my agony goes or what she’s entering into.

Why do all the girls cry around you? At seven she knew. She should remember I’m no good. It’s not like I’ve changed. If anything, I’ve only gotten worse.