CHAPTER FIVE

MCKINLEY

Mia and I go to the bathroom, so I can apply a heavier layer of foundation under my eye, which, according to her, is already starting to bruise. And I know there’s a lecture coming in five, four, three…

“McKinley, he fucking hit you. This is called escalation, and it’s not going to stop until one day you’re dead.”

I roll my eyes at her dramatics as we walk into the bathroom. “If dreams come true.”

Grabbing my foundation from my purse, I dab it under my eye, as I look in the mirror at the physical proof of his cruelty. It was only a matter of time until he did this. I’ve always known the day would come. I just didn’t think it would be so public. The humiliation of the lead singer of my favorite band witnessing it is real.

“I’m serious. Has he hit you before? You don’t seem surprised or angry, and that’s not a normal reaction.”

I reapply my lipstick before responding to her, as she stands with her hands on her hips.

“No. He shoved me, but this is the first time he has hit me.”

She shakes her head with disapproval. “It won’t be the last time.”

I shrug my shoulders and say, “Let’s go. If I’m not there while he’s on stage at all, he’ll lose his mind.”

The fact that I went into another man’s dressing room won’t be ignored. I knew that when he picked me up into his arms, and told myself to kick and scream until he put me down, but I didn’t. Because something about him was safe and warm. Nobody has ever stood up for me like that before, and I liked it. Even if I have to pay the price for it later, it was worth it.

“And kick the shit out of you.”

I ignore her, even though I know she may not be wrong. Confirming her suspicions will only make things worse. I know Erik is an asshole, but there’s so much tied up in him, I can’t just leave. He owns the house we live in, as well as my car. I would be penniless. And he’s basically my boss. As the Personal Assistant to the Glass Monkeys, he signs my paychecks. So I know she thinks I should end things, but it’s not that simple. She’s my best friend, and has been since we met at the gym, and bonded over our ogling of what she calls the meatheads. Think over the top muscular hot guys that probably should be on romance book covers. I knew when we spent an hour on ellipticals beside each other, choosing which guys we’d select for our own ‘why choose’ romance, that we’d be friends forever.

Mia loops her arm with mine and says, “Let’s go before we make the prince of darkness angry.”

I can’t help but giggle. “Wasn’t that Ozzy ?”

“Soooo,” she drawls, with the longest ‘o’ in history before continuing, “Care to explain why we’re in box seats tonight, when our seats were in the tenth row?”

Immediately, I blush, and hope she doesn’t notice. When Jagger told me about our upgrade in seats, I wasn’t sure how to feel. It’s exciting, of course, to be right in front of the stage, but I’m not sure how to explain it to Erik if he asks about it. I know Mia will make it out to be something it’s not, but I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.

“I think Jagger wanted to be nice after what happened. Enjoy it, I don’t think it’ll ever happen again. They’re pity seats.”

That’s really only true for me, though. Mia has a ton of money and has offered me cash more than once to leave Erik and start over again. According to Forbes magazine she’s worth half a million dollars, which made my jaw hit the floor. Firstly, because that seems like it should be private information. Secondly, because half a million dollars?

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs, with a knowing smile on her face.

We make it to the auditorium, and this Jimmy guy meets us there and takes us down to our box seats, which I happen to know are expensive tickets. I’ve wanted to see The Dark Notes live since their debut album seven years ago, and frequently played with ticket prices online. It’s like window shopping for concerts, I suppose. Box seats are always almost three thousand dollars, but my broke ass couldn’t even afford the three hundred dollar seats, so being this close is literally a dream come true. I’m dying to tell my best friend what happened in his dressing room, but I won’t, because I’m afraid she’ll tell Erik, in hopes he’ll dump me. She would do nearly anything to get him out of my life, and I can’t blame her. If our roles were reversed, I’d do the same thing.

His kiss and touch were like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Erik has never made me feel like that, and if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I would’ve let him at least kiss me.

We get to our seats, and stand as Erik and his band are finishing up, with what I know is their last song. Their set has not changed in the last three years, so I know it like the back of my hand. They leave the stage and Mia yells in my ear, “Time for your new boyfriend.”

I roll my eyes. “Not even,” I yell back.

He was being nice to me out of pity, not because he was interested. Besides, I know Jagger Wild has a different woman every night. Every city is a new pussy to slide into. His exploits are widely reported, with more than one groupie giving a tell all interview. And Erik or not, I don’t want to be a part of that. I don’t want to be nothing more than a notch on anyone’s bedpost. Besides, regardless of what he said in his dressing room, I’m not the type he goes for. All the pictures in the tabloids are skinny blondes. I do not fit the bill. Honestly, if he didn’t feel bad about my boyfriend hitting me, he probably would’ve been all over Mia. All men seem to love her. She is so beautiful, and walks around with a glow that only a super model could. I’m not really jealous of her beauty, but I am jealous of her confidence. What it must be like to walk this earth, knowing you’re always the most stunning woman in the room, is not something I’ll ever experience. The funny thing about her though, is she never makes a woman feel less because of how she looks. I’ve never seen her look down on someone because they aren’t as pretty as her. She always says everyone has something beautiful about them. If someone is ugly, it’s not visible from the outside. I love that about her.

I should probably feel bad that I missed the majority of my boyfriend’s concert, but I don’t. I’m used to him treating me like crap, but he has never hit me. I think I have every right to be angry, although he won’t see it that way. And I’m not really mad even though I know I probably should be. The truth is I’m empty. I feel very little when it comes to him. My heart left this relationship a long time ago. I’m stuck but removed. I can’t explain it to Mia, without concerning her more than she already is, but the physical pain is almost a relief. Abuse is strange that way. For me, I think being able to physically see the pain, instead of just feeling it inside, provides some sort of solace that my brain knows it shouldn’t.

The house lights go so dim we can barely see in front of us. Then lights appear on the curtain. One skull, then two, then three, and finally four. Suddenly there’s a video behind the band of a woman being chased by a man in the woods, and I smile because I know this song, and it’s one of my favorites. ‘Primal’ was their first hit several years ago.

The screen goes up, curtains open, and lights hit the stage. First blue, then red, and nearly every color in the rainbow, as Jagger walks to center stage wearing black leather pants, a diamond studded belt, but no shirt, and looks at me almost like it was intentional, and winks at me.

Mia grabs my arm. “Oh my God!” she squeals, causing my cheeks to heat to the color of the red lights on the stage. I glance around and the place looks every bit as sold out as the sign claimed outside. It’s not surprising though since they sold out the last two tours.

“He’s staring at you, girl. What the fuck happened in that room?” Mia glares at me with a demanding expression.

“Nothing.”

I stare back, because he’s on stage so it’s not weird, right? He looks gorgeous. Sweat beads on his upper body as he sings the words to their third song, never taking his eyes off me. Once again, I remind myself I have a boyfriend, and besides I don’t want to be the flavor of the night, because I know when he goes to Phoenix tomorrow, he’ll be bedding a new woman. I know his game all too well, so I need to keep my legs closed and my brain functioning.

They finish the song, and someone brings him a towel and a guitar. He wipes the sweat from his brow, and tosses the towel to the side of the stage, before speaking to the crowd.

“Hello, California! It’s good to be home!”

The entire auditorium erupts with cheers, as if he came here specifically to see them.

“I have a problem… with a woman,” he rolls his eyes, “Can I talk to you about that?”

Again, his words are met with screams of approval, and I’m pretty sure they’d love anything he says.

He walks across the stage, looking out at his audience before hanging his head down dramatically.

“I met this woman tonight and wow, she’s fucking gorgeous.”

Looking back up, he says, “She turned me down. Ladies, would you turn me down?”

Of course, the place echoes with yells of ‘no’. One woman actually throws panties on the stage. I’ve obviously heard of women doing this, but I’ve never seen it before.

“Do you think a song might change her mind?”

The crowd clearly thinks so as the music of a rather familiar song plays. I shake my head, with uncontrollable laughter, as he starts singing Closer by Nine Inch Nails . I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of their other songs before, but this one I know. I think everybody does.

Jagger walks over to where I stand with Mia, and throws his guitar over his back in one of the sexiest moves I’ve ever seen. Squatting down in front of me, he continues singing the words to the filthy song as I blush uncontrollably. Moving to his knees, he belts out the chorus while staring into my eyes. My heart is pounding furiously as I gaze back at him, ignoring the fact that Mia is watching me with curious eyes.

I’m hoping Erik is busy somewhere, and not watching this display of over the top behavior, because he will be pissed. Right at this moment, I don’t care, because Jagger makes me feel like I matter. I know it’s only a one-night stand he’s offering. Still, no one has ever put so much effort in taking me to bed.

He winks at me as he ends the song. “That was romantic, right?”

I shake my head. “You’re insane!” I shout.

Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he leans over the stage and speaks into my ear, “Haven’t you heard, filthy girl? The crazy ones are the best fucks.”