Part 18 (2/2)
”Getting better,” she mumbles.
”Better in the evenings, huh?” He sits in the armchair next to Jem and leans forward to poke him, grinning. ”Something you want to tell us?”
”No,” Jem retorts.
Bryn is teasing, but I swallow down the realisation growing as I watch for Ruby's reaction. Paling, she stands, hands trembling. ”I'm tired, Jem. Let's go.”
Bryn sinks back and watches as Jem stands too. ”I always know when you're hiding a secret, Jeremy.”
”Shut up,” he warns.
No.
A thousand f.u.c.king times no.
I've seen enough s.h.i.+tty TV soaps to guess Ruby's symptoms could be more than gastro, but she wouldn't be that f.u.c.king stupid. ”Ruby. Please don't tell me you're -”
”I'm not feeling well, okay! Just f.u.c.king leave it!” she snaps, not looking at me as she drops back onto the sofa. The ever-protective Jem immediately joins her.
”You are! You're f.u.c.king pregnant!” The world lurches when her denial doesn't come, as my mind drags in all the reasons why this is a disaster. ”For f.u.c.k's sake!”
Unsure I'll be able to keep my self- control, and not wanting Ruby to say the words, I grab another beer and leave. Outside the room I pause, my world shattering around me.
The band is screwed now.
We reach the edge of success and Ruby's f.u.c.king ruined this. Jem's ruined her. Ruby's as trapped as she was when d.i.c.khead Dan had her in his grasp.
Stupid, f.u.c.king... I shake my head against the anger and walk blindly away.
TEGAN.
The post-concert sales were crazy tonight; we sold out of all t-s.h.i.+rt sizes apart from XXL, which left some very p.i.s.sed off customers. I smiled sweetly and repeated the same excuse, handing people the flyer listing the online merchandise store. I swear one girl considered ripping off my Blue Phoenix t-s.h.i.+rt rather than go home without one.
By the end of that disaster, I have a huge headache and I'm running late. Finally finding a minute to myself, I check my phone for a message from Jax.
Nothing.
I text him, ask where he wants to meet, and return to boxing up the remaining stock ready for the next venue. Half an hour later, done, I check my phone again.
Still nothing.
Jax agreed we'd meet up tonight and we've discussed becoming more 'public' on a night out with the twins and a.s.sorted tour people. That way we can be together, but not obviously. All good as long as we aren't seen too close. Isn't this what he wanted?
When n.o.body is around the Green Room, I'm p.i.s.sed off - more at myself than Jax - at expecting him to behave like a normal person. Searching for any sign of him, Will or Nate I b.u.mp into one of the sound guys.
”Hey, do you know where everybody's gone?” I ask him.
”Ruby Riot guys have gone ahead to Menthe; a few of us are grabbing a taxi to join them. You want to tag along?” The tall guy points over his shoulder to a group of guys talking loudly nearby.
Tag along, like a lost sheep? I don't think so. ”No, all good. I'll catch up with my brother.”
Before he can respond, I storm away. Now I'm angry with Jax. I bet the boys headed out and took a few girls with them and I was surplus to requirements. Less than a week and he's bored of me already because I won't open my legs? b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
19.
TEGAN.
In two minds whether to show up at the club on my own, and let Jax know I don't give a f.u.c.k, I decide in-room movies and room service are the best choice. I'm in Paris and I've never visited the city before. I have plenty planned for tomorrow; a night of drunken drama with Jax isn't worth the waste of energy. Still, I leave my phone switched on next to the bed and snuggle under the luxurious duvet, dressed in my cotton pyjama shorts and vest, hair piled onto my head.
Living the rock star life. Ha ha.
I tuck into the bowl of chips ordered from room service and watch The Hunger Games; I missed this movie while I was travelling, heard it was good. Beats c.r.a.ppy chick flicks anyway.
My phone beeps, startling me. I rub my eyes and I glance at the TV. Great, I've missed half of the movie by dozing off.
I lick salt from my fingers and reach for my phone. A message from Jax. <can i=”” see=”” you?=””> Cheeky b.l.o.o.d.y... He needs to look elsewhere for his drunken hook-ups. I ignore him and five minutes later the phone rings with Jax's name on the screen.
”What?” I snap.
”Did you get my message?”
”The subtle message that you didn't want to see me when you didn't contact me earlier?” I retort.
”I did want to see you. I forgot.” Difficult to tell for sure, but I'd lay bets he's drunk. ”I remembered now.”
”It's 2 a.m., Jax! You're three hours late!”
”I didn't notice the time. Something happened.”
”Yeah, like you fell into a taxi with Will and Nate and went out drinking?”
”No. I'm not with them.”
”But you're drunk.”
”Kinda. Can I see you or not?”
”I'll speak to you later, Jax.” I hang up. He stands me up, gets drunk, then calls me at 2 a.m. What does he expect?
Heart beating faster with anger at his behaviour, I attempt to remember which scene I last saw in the movie and rewind. As I settle back down to watch, the conversation with Jax niggles. Why do this? We said no games. Well, I'm out. No more.
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