Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Eddie

"Wake up. Wake up!"

What the hell is going on? "What?" I spit.

"It's time to get up," she says, kicking the bed.

"Holy fuck, it's Groundhog Day," I grunt. "Fuck. Shut the damn curtains."

"Why? What's wrong with the sunlight?" she says louder than is needed. Her voice echoes through my head.

"Any point in asking for painkillers?" I ask, peering out from under my blanket.

"You can ask by all means, but I won't give you any."

"See? Fucking Groundhog Day. Which didn't end too badly, as I recall, so this might not be so awful after all."

"Get up and shower, Eddie, you fucking stink. We have things to discuss, especially after last night."

I just grunt at her. I know she won't leave unless I do as she wants.

"Fine," I say, getting out of bed.

I know I am stark naked under the blankets, but she doesn't, and I know she is curious after last night—you don't stare at a man's crotch if you're not. I give the monster a swing, just for entertainment purposes. The events of last night after she got in the taxi are vague... I remember her tagging along to the next club, but not much after that.

"Impressive, but does he also do party tricks?" she taunts, her face totally unaffected by my cock swinging around. Damn, maybe I was wrong last night. "At least you have one thing going for you," she quips as she walks from the room.

It is true the monster is impressive, although it usually gets a better reaction. Why do I care what some stuck-up bitch thinks about my cock? I know I have an "any hole's a goal" policy, but I bet her pussy has teeth that would like to bite my cock off. The thought sends shivers down my spine and my balls withdraw inside me. Bloody hell, I forgot about the blonde I brought home in the early hours of the morning—she's still out cold. I really need to move her on her way.

"Oi, get up. It's time to go," I say, giving her a little shake. She stirs and stretches, and I watch as her naked body comes into view.

"Well, good morning to you too," she says, staring at my crotch.

"Love, I have a meeting. It's time to go," I reiterate, but she doesn't look impressed. Besides, I'm a "fuck 'em and leave 'em" type of guy; I like a variety of pussy.

She slides out of bed and slips back into her mini dress. "You asked me to hold onto this for you last night," she says, holding up a little baggy of white powder. "Something about a mega she-bitch taking your goodies."

"Love, you're a fucking lifesaver," I say, taking the bag.

I head straight into the bathroom and rub some of the powder onto my gums before I stash it, then walk blondie out. I have my driver for the day take her home—after all, she stashed my drugs so the she-bitch didn't take them. That should prolong me from needing to leave the house.

Mickki, Brodie, Benny, and Drew are all in the kitchen when I walk in, so maybe we do have an important meeting this morning.

"Morning everyone. Lovely day, isn't it?" I say, pouring myself some coffee. Everyone just looks at me.

"Do you want to put some clothes on?" the she-bitch asks.

"No, but thanks for asking. We haven't officially met—I'm Eddie and you are?" I extend my hand, but she looks at it like it has some kind of disease.

"Callie. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying."

"Someone's not a morning person, I see."

"I like mornings just fine, thank you. It's being here that's the problem."

"I can fire you if you like. It'd be a win-win situation."

"You're not my boss, and I promised a friend that I'd help you, so here I am. Now, could you please go put some clothes on?"

"Too early to rock out with my cock out?" I taunt.

"Go get dressed, for fuck's sake. Not everyone wants to sit around here all day," Brodie says.

My housekeeper, Delilah, comes to my rescue. She's an older lady who lives in the house—she keeps me fed and the house clean, plus she's not afraid of me being naked.

"Here are some clean pants," she says, handing me a pair, but not before she slaps me on my arse and winks at me.

"You know I love you, right? When are you gonna dump that boyfriend for me? You know you want some of this," I tease.

"You youngins wouldn't know a clit from a G-spot at your age. I need a man who can handle all this," she says.

"Burned!" Mickki laughs.

As I join the guys at the table, Callie pipes up first. "As you know, I asked you all here so I can make the official announcement that I'm Eddie's sober buddy."

This just makes me laugh.

"You're a sober buddy?" I say through a fit of chuckles.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Eddie, because I don't see your bandmates laughing. And I don't see how them losing their careers because you can't control your drug use is funny either. I'm also glad you think almost overdosing is funny. Do you want me to keep going, or do you want to shut up and listen?" she rants.

With a zipping motion over my lips, I look at my bandmates. Their sour looks make me pause—I honestly didn't think they cared so much. It's not like they're fucking saints, so why is it "pick on Eddie" week? I must have pissed someone off.

"Now I'm here for as long as it takes. I've been pre-warned and have seen firsthand Eddie can be a pain in the arse, but apparently for some strange reason I'm told I'm his only chance at getting sober. I have everyone's numbers stored on my phone. If anyone has any questions, just shoot me a text."

"Are we done here?" I ask, standing quickly, my chair scraping across the floor with a squeal.

"You need my help, even if you don't know it yet. All the drugs and alcohol have been removed from the house to avoid temptation. Oh, and Eddie, Marcus removed the stash blondie left behind from your bathroom."

"Kill me now. Could my life get any worse? I don't have a problem. I can stop whenever I want."

"Really? Then prove it," she challenges me. Does she really think I'm going to fall for that? Silly woman.

"What do I get in return?" I say, raising my eyebrows at her.

"You get a healthy life, and you get to keep your job," she lashes back at me.

Undeterred, I stalk towards her. She may act tough, but she's still a woman and I'm a large bloke. Plus, her outfit choice needs to be re-evaluated, her shit-brown skirt is very unappealing—she could be a crazy cat lady by the look of her. Coming to a stop directly in front of her, I can clearly see derision in her eyes. It's almost like she hates being here.

"The label would be stupid to drop me, so this must be a scare tactic. I'm Eddie Diamond and I'm a fucking rock god. Do they think they're the only ones who can do what they do? Somebody else would snap us up. I'm wondering why you're here, as let's face it, you don't want to be. My first guess would have been you wanted to fuck me. I now know it's not that, but I will figure it out."

"So, that's a no to a meeting today, then?" she questions me, looking straight at me, but I can see the annoyance in her eyes.

"It's a hell no."

"That's fine. Your mother said you wouldn't go."

"You spoke to that she-bitch?" I shout, turning to face her again. She shrugs her shoulders. Fucking shit, fuck, shit. Someone told her that woman was my weakness. "Fine, one meeting," I say through gritted teeth, and giving Mickki and the guys the finger, I storm out of the room. Those arseholes must have sold me out.

What a bunch of crap. Still, I humour Callie and go to the stupid NA meeting. The only issue is that I don't have a problem. Their twelve-step program is ridiculous. It may work for some people, but it's done nothing for me.

The subsequent meeting with Oliver at our recording company is brutal. He makes it clear that he doesn't care if I'm a rock god, and Fontaine Records will drop me like a sack of shit if I don't pull myself together. The bottom line is if I don't at least try to get sober, I will have to go into rehab or they'll drop the whole band.

Reality hits me hard.

I can't let my brother down. He's the one person who made my sorry excuse for a childhood better, and he's my best friend. I told Oliver I would try. Doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy, though. Plus, what they don't know won't hurt them. Alcohol might become my new best friend.

Walking away from Fontaine Records, I find my driver waiting out the front, along with Damien. I have an appointment booked at a tattoo shop called Big Moe's House of Ink. A few years back, this sad sack came to one of our concerts to win his girlfriend back. Turns out he works at one of the best tattoo shops in Australia and he could squeeze me in thanks to Mickki—apparently, they still keep in contact. The drive takes a while, as Big Moe's House of Ink is about an hour or so out of the city.

Callie has been blowing up my phone, and I know I should answer; she's just doing her job, but it's fun pissing her off. She gets under my skin and not in a good way. Damien tells the driver to pull up around the back to avoid any photographers who may be lurking. Don't ask me how the fuckers know where I'm going, but the slimy arseholes always seem to be there. Doing a quick scan of the area, I'm happy to see it's free of the paps. We're greeted by a young guy.

"Hi, I'm Joe," he says, offering me a hand.

"I'm Eddie."

"As in, Eddie from Black Diamond," he says. Great, another damn fan. Can't go anywhere without people fangirling over me.

"You a fan?" I ask.

"Actually no, but a friend killed your music when we used to live together. She's here actually. RUBY!" he yells out.

"This better be good, Joe. My feet are swollen and I'm the size of a fucking whale," she says, and I instantly recognise her.

"Golden Pussy, what happened to you?" I ask, she was the girlfriend of the poor sap who was trying to win his girlfriend back. I also vaguely remember asking her to marry me.

"Eddie, wow, it's been a while. I'd say time has done you good, but I don't like to lie."

"You got fat," I say with a laugh. I mean, she's huge, like almost round.

"She's pregnant, and I'm sure you didn't come here to insult my fiancée," Dex says, walking over.

"No, but I would've to insult you, though. It looks like you're whipped now."

"Something like that." He chuckles, then rubs her belly and talks to her stomach. As I watch, I feel a pang of jealousy, but I shake it off as young Joe asks me what I'm after today.

"I want my song lyrics tattooed on my ribs with an origami style butterfly, and make the butterfly look like it's made from sheet music." I hand the quick sketch I've done to Dex. He looks and says he'll be back in a few with a finished design.

"Nice setup you have over there," I say, looking at the stage set with instruments.

"We get lots of musicians, and Dex plays a lot. Ruby's amazing too but won't admit it." Joe fawns over her.

"Shut up, Joe. I'm off to pick up Harlow before she drives Jash mad," Golden Pussy says.

"If you ever ditch the hubby and kids, give me a holler," I say with a wink.

"Not in this lifetime, Casanova," she says as she waddles out the door. She reminds me of a duck, and I smile to myself. Dex walks back out and shows me what he's drawn up and it's amazing. He takes me down to his station and sets the stencil on my ribs.

"Go check it out in the mirror, and if it's all good, we'll get started," he says.

"It's mad. Let's do this."

"This might tickle a bit—ribs are sensitive," he warns.

"Pain turns me on," I say, and he gives me a look which screams, keep your dick to yourself . I get myself in a zone because this shit hurts like a mofo. After about an hour, my phone rings, and it's a number I don't know. I usually don't answer them, but it just keeps calling.

"Hello?" I say cautiously. Maybe a fan has gotten my number again, and that never ends well.

"Where are you?" a female voice says.

"Where are you?" I reply.

"Can we not play games? Where are you?"

"Argh, motherfucker, that hurt." I wince at the pain shooting through my ribs. The outline was a piece of cake, but the shading hurts like a son of a bitch.

"Damn it, Eddie," she says.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"It's Callie. I've been waiting for you. This won't work if you keep disappearing all the time. If you leave, so should I," she chastises. After the NA meeting, we went back to the house. And I might have forgotten to mention I had an appointment for a tattoo following my meeting with the label, but I didn't want her tagging along.

"Where are you?" I ask her again.

"At your house, waiting for you."

"Well, leave," I say, trying to piss her off more, as it seems to keep my mind off the pain.

"Why would I leave?"

"Why would you stay? You just said, if I leave, you leave, and well, you're still at my house."

"I get paid to be here even if you're not, so get your arse back here," she snaps.

"Oh! So, it's all about the money, and I mean nothing to you. I feel used—like a cheap whore," I say, trying not to laugh.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," she says. I can hear the frustration in her voice.

"What fun would the easy way be?" I laugh before hanging up the phone.

"Angry girlfriend?" Dex asks.

"Ha! No... I prefer my pussy fresh, not overused." He shakes his head at me. "What? It's the truth. Plus, why lock it down with one woman and have kids and all that shit when I'm on the road more than I'm home? Pussy finds me and I have no self-control. I'm weak when they throw themselves at me."

"It's a bit cliché—rock star with lots of pussy, drugs, and drinking—but it'll only get you so far. A good woman and a family are truly all a man needs in this life because, trust me, life is short."

"I tried in some ways and failed. Believe me when I say that a woman and any spawn I could produce are better off without me. Everything turns to shit around me." Fuck me, who needs a shrink when I can self-analyse my life?

Once Dex is done and sends me on my way, I replay what he said about having a family. What type of woman would actually want to have a family with me? I'm all kinds of fucked up and I shouldn't subject a child to that.

The need to get high physically crawls under my skin. The constant high I'm always on has worn off and this depressive mood is pissing me off. I need a distraction and I've got to find one fast. I have to do something because going home to that woman will just drive me to drugs or getting so drunk that I'll turn to drugs. It's then I have an idea, and I make a call to Beth. After all the recent press issues, I honestly don't know what she'll say, but it's worth a try.