Chapter 10

Two days on the road and Tate was getting antsy. He wasn’t sure if the withdrawal symptoms were getting to him, or if trying to act normal for so long had the mask he wore fitting too tight, but he needed some space. Some time away from the guys. Some quiet.

Instead, his phone buzzed just before they hit a rest stop. And the text he read pushed the restlessness to panic.

Ray: I’m not enjoying the silent treatment. I was hoping you’d get in touch on your own, but you were happy to get away, weren’t you?

Bile filled Tate’s throat. He could almost hear the threatening tone Ray always used when he suspected Tate was ready to say “Fuck it” and stop playing his demented game. He needed to call him. Now.

Not on the bus, though. He couldn’t risk someone overhearing him. He forced a smile as he approached the front and Jesse glanced up from the driver’s seat.

Jesse let out a soft laugh. “Takes some getting used to again huh, kid?”

“A bit.” Tate inhaled slowly. “Just need to stretch my legs.”

Nodding, Jesse opened the door. “No problem, but stick close. We’re at the edge of a small city in Colorado called Durango. We’ll stay here for about four hours. Get a nice meal, stock up. If you need to do some shopping just make sure you keep an eye out for the vans. We’ll head out in about twenty minutes.”

“I won’t be far.” Tate dashed down the steps, ducking into the sparse woods by the parking lot, making sure not to lose track of the bus as he walked in deeper. The weather was still pretty mild, so he was fine in just a T-shirt, but forcing himself to dial Ray’s number sent a chill down his spine.

The endless ringing set his teeth on edge. If Ray didn’t answer…

“You’ve finally found time for me?”

Tate eyes burned as relief melded with loathing. “I promised I would. But the guys haven’t seen me in a long time. I’m hardly ever alone. I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Ray let out an irritated sigh. “And you’re going to wish you were here when I tell you what I just got. One hit and you can’t be touched without getting hard. The whole world disappears and you just want to fuck. I had to try it myself since you aren’t here. But I found this cute twink to take your place. The way he sucked my dick… I’ve realized you haven’t been trying hard enough. You’ll have to make it up to me.”

Tate wasn’t sure what was worse. Some guy taking his place and getting messed up because of Ray, or what Ray would expect when he got home.

Home. Damn it, when had the word started filling him with so much dread? Ray’s place wasn’t home.

Only…it had to be.

He swallowed hard. “I don’t have a lot of experience, but I do try. I can do better.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Ray’s tone softened. “Have the cravings been bad? Since I assume you passed your test, you can take the edge off. I’ll make some calls…”

“Thank you, but I’m okay. And there could be another test any day. Reese is having us do more. She doesn’t trust us.” Lies. All lies. But he could live with them. The last thing he needed was Ray hooking him up with one of his contacts and getting him fucked up on tour. There was no way he could hide that from the band. Not while he was too stoned out of his mind to care.

But he was tempted. Which made him hate himself even more.

The right hit and he wouldn’t feel like he was being slashed open from the inside. Would forget how it felt to be healthy and want nothing more than cookies.

Cookies would be good now. Really good. But I can’t go back to the bus yet…

Besides, he’d finished his cookies, trying hard to let them kill the urge to find another high. They hadn’t worked at first, but slowly they were starting to. A week, maybe two, and he would be himself again.

“Maybe you should get a new manager.” Ray’s tone turned thoughtful. “Imagine how much fun the tour would be if you could share some of your favorite candy with your friends.”

Candy. Tate hated when Ray called the drugs he forced on Tate ‘candy’. What he’d called it when Tate had been too young and stupid to know better. But he made himself laugh. “Yeah. That would be cool.”

“See what you can do. I’ll be in touch.”

With that, Ray ended the call. And Tate felt like he could breathe again.

Until he heard a voice in the distance, coming closer.

“You seriously want to talk about the violin?” Dariel let out a rough laugh. “Be real, North. You’re hoping I haven’t heard the rumors and you’re too lazy to scope out the local offerings.”

“Rumors?” North sounded confused. “What rumors?”

Tate inched behind a tree, peeking out as the men stopped in front of a large rock, Dariel settling back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Man, you really don’t know?” Dariel shook his head. “Word has it you’ve got some weird flesh-eating disease. My condolences.”

North’s lips parted. “I have a what?”

“I suspect you pissed someone off.” Dariel shrugged. “I enjoyed the walk and all, but that worries me more than whatever you might have. I don’t do rebounds. It gets messy.”

“This isn’t a rebound. I’m offering to suck your dick.”

“And I’m tempted. You’re a good looking man.” Dariel reached out and squeezed North’s forearm. “But you’re complicated as fuck and I’m not that desperate. Good luck with whoever’s got it in for you. And don’t look for a violinist. XVI Hours has a cohesive sound and you won’t find another me.”

When Dariel left North, it took everything Tate had not to go over there and demand to know what the hell North was doing. First the drum tech, now the only single guy in Winter’s Wrath besides Tate? Why was he being so fucking cruel? Did North think Tate could watch him mess around with everyone close to him and not be hurt?

He doesn’t know you’re here.

But he had to know Tate would find out.

Someone called for North and he took off toward the parking lot. Tate waited for a bit, then followed, watching North get into one of the two vans that would go into the city for groceries and whatever else the crew or the band might need.

Without thinking too long about what he’d do next, Tate slipped onto XVI Hours’ bus. He didn’t see any of the band. Good. He ducked into the bathroom. Checked the shampoo bottles for the one that smelled like North. What could he put in there to make him suffer? He’d use food coloring if he had it. Maybe glue. Something that smelled horrible?

Tears blinded him as he searched the bathroom for anything that would give him some sense of justice. Stupid justice that wasn’t justice at all because he’d done this. He’d cut North off in a way he’d hoped would stick. And it had. And now it was fucking killing Tate to see how easily the man had moved on.

“Can I help you with something?”

Tate dropped the bottle of shampoo, splattering it up the leg of his black jeans and the shower wall. He stared at the tall bodyguard. Vanessa. Her name was Vanessa. And she didn’t look too friendly.

“No, I was…I ran out.” He scrambled for a good excuse. “North uses my favorite kind and I figured he wouldn’t mind me borrowing some.”

“Well, North is in the van, which I had wait when I saw you come in. Should I go get him?” Vanessa’s brows lifted when Tate quickly shook his head. “I see. Now, let’s try the truth.”

“I gave you the truth.”

“I doubt that. But perhaps this is something you and my client need to discuss.”

“No.” Tate’s pulse pounded in his skull. He couldn’t talk to North. Couldn’t see him more than he already had to. “It was gonna be a prank, all right? A stupid prank. I’m sorry. I should go.”

“Yes. You should.” Vanessa’s tone hardened. “And now that I know you pose a risk to my clients, I suggest you stay off this bus. I will be discussing this with Balthazar.”

She was gonna tell Ballz? This could not be happening. Damn it, why had he been so reckless? If she told Ballz he’d want to know why Tate wanted to mess with North. And if he started talking to someone like Ballz, he wouldn’t stop. He’d tell him everything. And then the band would find out. And then he’d be fucked.

Which would put North and Connor at risk.

He wanted to protect them.

Instead, he’d let his emotions get in the way. North got to move on. Even if it hurt to watch.