Might as well add that to the alliteration I had going on. Billie Bitch Bellerose.
Had a bit of a ring to it.
twenty
BILLIE
Rhett was damn good at what he did. No, scratch that, he was fuckingepic. From the moment he stepped out under the spotlights, his talented fingers working the strings of his guitar, he was a totalstar. Jace fucking who? Okay, that was an exaggeration—they were all pretty damn incredible out there—but my heart couldn’t handle acknowledging anyone but Rhett.
I kept my eyes on him, soaking up the sound of his guitar and blocking out the rest. Or that’s what I tried to do. A few songs in, they started playing one of their early hits, one of the first Bellerose tracks to hit number one on the Billboards that had earned them a platinum record.
Swallowing hard, I wrapped my arms around myself and really,reallytried not to hear the lyrics. But it was impossible to push them out of my head when I knew them so fucking well. It was a song that I’d collaborated on, as had Angelo. It was one that Jace had started writing when the three of us werehappy, and one he’d finished,changed, right after I broke his heart.
What had started as “Precious Rose,” a song Jace had literally dedicated to me and how much helovedme, had been released six months later as “Poison Roses.”
I’d always been Rose to him, like I was Bella to Angelo. And now I was Thorn to Rhett. How utterly fitting that my name had sharpened and grown ugly… just like my heart.
Acid curled through me as Jace’s deep, husky voice filled my head.A poisoned Rose, beautiful and cruel, stolen away by fallen Angel, you played me like a fool.
Pain lanced through me as I accidentally locked eyes with Jace on stage. His stare was both smoldering hot and glacially cold at the same time. He didn’t look away as he sang that cursed song, and I broke first.
Closing my eyes, a hot tear squeezed out from between my lashes and rolled down my cheek. I thought I was done feeling guilt and regret over Jace and Angelo, and here I was crying like it’d happened yesterday. This plan, hiding out with Bellerose, it was a huge mistake. Who did I think I was? I didn’t have a fraction of the mental fortitude necessary to pull this off without losing my mind.
It was allstillso raw, so painful.
A tap on my shoulder startled me, and I spun to find a roadie standing behind me, holding out a pair of headphones and a book.
“Um?” I raised a brow in confusion.
The guy shrugged. “Beats me. Grayson asked that we get these for you before the show, but I got caught up fixing some shit with the amps. Sorry.” He handed his delivery over and was gone again before I could question him further.
Curious, I put the headphones on as I looked across the stage to where Grayson was wailing on his drum kit. His expression was laser focused, like he didn’t even know he was on stage playing to tens of thousands. All that mattered was his connection with the music.
When the soft headphones covered my ears, the sickeningly true lyrics of “Poison Roses”and haunting cadence of Jace’s singing voice faded out. It was replaced by just a drum solo, a rhythmic beat that immediately calmed me down and dried up my stupid, pointless tears.
Grayson tipped his head my way, but a shadow cast over his face, so I couldn’t figure out if he was looking at me or not. Either way, I gave him a nod of appreciation and mouthed my thanks, just in case he was. Then I sank my butt down onto one of the chairs tucked in the wings and opened the book.
It wasn’t a new one; the spine was well cracked and the pages fluffy on the corners like they’d been thumbed countless times. To my surprise, it was a romance… or at the very least, it was a love story. Whether it ended happily or not remained to be seen, and I abhorred people who read the ending prematurely. If I was going to take the journey that someone—Grayson maybe—had clearly taken dozens of times already, then I wanted the whole experience, no spoilers.
With the noise-canceling headphones on, the calming drumbeats drowning any residual noise, it was easy to lose myself in the book. It wasn’t something I’d have picked for myself, but I was fascinated to see what Grayson chose as a favorite read.
I made it about halfway through the book about firemen who jumped from planes into the depths of raging wildfires—which I was starting to think might have a sad ending—when the concert ended. I only noticed because Jace “accidentally” bumped me on his way off stage.
I flipped my middle finger at his back, but he didn’t see it. Dick.
“Hey, Thorn,” Rhett greeted me with a huge smile when I tugged my headphones off and looked for him. “What did you think? Pretty bad ass, huh?”
Arrogance was a surprisingly good look on Rhett Silver, and I eagerly accepted his embrace when he reached for me. He’d already handed his guitar to a waiting roadie, so his hot hands went straight to my ass, lifting me up so his mouth could crush against mine.
For a moment, I forgot where we were. I forgot who we were and who Rhett’s best friend was. But reality was quick to smack me in the face in the form of Tom Tucker.
“You’re within full view of the backstage pass holders right now,” he sneered, “and I saw more than a few phone-camera flashes. I thought poor little Billie was supposed to be hiding her location.”
I cringed, burying my face in Rhett’s sweaty tank top, but he didn’t put me back down. Hell, he gripped me even tighter. But maybe that was because he was using me to shield his rapidly hardening dick from prying eyes.
“Give her your hoody, Tucker,” Rhett demanded instead.
Tom gave an indignant sound, but Flo elbowed him, and he reluctantly took it off. Flo seemed to know what Rhett meant, draping Tom’s hoody over me so I could hide my face while we passed the backstage groupies.
