Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

GREY

I gather all the broken pieces to myself, pulling them toward me like a mother hen with her chicks.

"That looks bad," a familiar voice says.

I look up and find Sloane on her haunches, her pale arms wrapped around her knees. Blue eyes train on the destroyed flash drive.

"Sloane," I gasp.

"I don't think you can find someone good enough to repair this one, Grey."

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You tried your best. " Sloane unwinds her hands and I shriek, falling back and crawling away from her.

Her hands are gushing blood.

"This isn't your fault," Sloane says, stepping toward me. "None of this is your fault."

"No." I wrench my head back and forth.

Sloane stops abruptly. Her voice trembles as she lifts her hands. "Grey… what is this?"

"I don't know." My chest heaves. "Just… just stay over there while I figure this out."

"Grey, help me." Sloane stretches her hands out.

"S-stay over there."

"Grey…"

My back hits the wall.

I can't crawl any further.

Fear claws its way up my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut, rocking myself. "I'll fix it. I'll fix it. I'll fix it."

"Grey. Grey!"

I feel someone shaking me and open my eyes to find Cadence stooping over me. Her expression is filled with concern.

"Cadence?" I breathe out. Glancing over her shoulder, I see that Sloane is gone.

"Zane gave me his key card and told me you'd need someone right now." She pushes my hair back and sets her hand on my forehead. "You're burning up. Grey, are you okay?"

" Yeah, Grey." Sloane appears behind Cadence's shoulder, dripping blood on the carpet. " Are you okay?"

I swat Cadence's hand away.

She holds her wrist, stunned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" My mouth opens wide and I struggle to inhale. "I need to fix things. Just give me a second and I'll fix it."

Cadence clamps my arms when I try to move.

I look up at her, frantic.

"You're okay. Everything's okay. We'll figure this out." She loops her arms around my head and pulls me into her shoulder to hug me.

Why is she comforting me?

I'm her teacher. I'm the adult.

I'll fix it.

I'll fix it.

"Everything will be okay, Grey. I promise," she whispers again.

But I know she's lying.

Because when I look down, I see Sloane's blood on my hands.

ZANE

The lights of the bar shift to neon green then pink and yellow. The deafening music rattles the glass cups on the shelf. The very clear ‘must be twenty-one or older' sign hangs proudly behind the bartender.

But what the hell are rules to me?

I never cared for them before.

And I sure as hell don't give a damn now.

The music imbues my body and makes my heart quake. The bass line is fire. Finn would go nuts over the melody.

I bob my head to the beat. My neck isn't moving in time to the rhythm. There's too much liquid in my skull. My brain is sloshing around the way rubber duckies dance and dip in bath water.

The beat drops and the drums pack in the melody, filling the song with power.

"Yeah!" I slip out of the chair, my eyes on the dance floor.

Who the hell wrote this song? We need to buy the rights to it immediately.

My elbow slides against the glossy-smooth surface of the bar and I almost faceplant. Someone wraps their hands around my biceps.

It's dark in the club. All I can see through my smeary gaze is a dress full of sequins. It's a woman though. That much I'm sure of. The tits spilling out of her disco-ball wraparound is an eyeful.

Not bad.

Damn, but you know who has the best tits?

Grey.

It was torture sitting in her classes, watching her wear those starched tops and modest button-downs, when I knew what lay beneath them. Hell, even if I hadn't seen her hot-as-sin body writhing under mine that night, her curves in class would have tempted me.

She's stacked. Fabric and buttons can't hide how stunning her body is.

The girl pushes her face close to me, assaulting me with her heavy perfume.

"Are you Zane Cross? From The Kings?"

"What?" I yell.

She leans closer, her tits rubbing against my arm. "You're him, right? Zane Cross?"

I stumble back and grin lazily. "Who's asking?"

Her nose scrunches. "I'm Priscilla."

Priscilla has a caterpillar on her eyelashes. Does she know that? There's a literal bug two centimeters away from her eyeballs.

"So, are you him? Zane Cross?"

"No, I mean yeah. Zane. I'm Zane." I grin harder, trying hard not to laugh at her ridiculously long lashes.

"I knew it."

She says something I don't hear because I turn away to demand another bottle from the bartender.

When I face her again, she's practically glued herself to my hip and is on the tail end of a long speech.

"Huh?" I grunt.

"I asked the DJ to play your song."

"What?" I yell.

"This is your song!" she yells. "I requested it."

That makes so much freaking sense.

Damn, this song is good.

I move toward the dance floor and take out my phone. It's instinctual for me to film myself. I stopped after things got serious with Grey. It's not like I could invite the world into my relationship with her. Not unless I wanted Jinx to start sniffing around and for all my crazy female fans to form a Grace Jamieson hate group.

But me and Grey are over now.

There's nothing stopping me from pulling out my camera and letting the world know that I'm back. If I can't have her, at least I can have this as a poor, but adequate substitute.

I go live on my favorite app.

"Guys, listen to this! They're playing our song!" I yell.

Around me, everyone starts screaming, waving and jumping to the beat. Pamela presses into me, smiling up at the camera as if she knows a cameo in my livestream will bring her a year's worth of clout.

I hold the cell phone up, letting it bounce up and down with me on the live. Immediately, my watch count explodes.

In a flash, I'm joined by Parker's other friends. Or maybe I'm joined by her pet octopus. Because suddenly, there are hands on me everywhere.

For a few, blissful seconds, the world is colorful and exciting. My heart is racing and there's nothing else in my head except for the music that connects us all.

But it doesn't last.

The song ends and the adrenaline rush slips away as fast as it appeared.

And once again, I'm nothing but the selfish piece of crap again.

The darkness is pressing in on me. There are too many bodies. Sweat flinging around. BO from someone's pits.

Smiles start to crack on the faces around me. Haunted, glazed eyes stare back like mirrors of mine. It's awful. This darkness, these aggravated shadows, this whiff of internal torment.

But the club, the party life, this is my home. When did I stop thinking this was a good time?

I love you too.

The words I whispered to Grey resonate in my head.

There's a spear in my heart, a giant, harpoon bigger than the one that took down Moby Dick. And it's making itself known again.

I end the live.

The hearts filling my screen disappear.

Black.

Like my soul.

My thoughts are rushing, which means I'm too sober.

I leave Pringle and her octopus group. Their shadows chase me down all the way to the counter.

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink?" Panoma says. I glance around and we're alone. Somehow, she managed to beat her friends off and now she's the only one sinking her manicured claws into me.

I gesture for the bartender to attend to her.

He nods.

"You look way more handsome in person than you do online." She leans forward, spilling more of her cleavage.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No, you're just handsome. "

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting off the echoes of Grey that are still lashing through me.

Paige offers a sultry smile. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, a lump in my throat that means I'm about to do something embarrassing—like cry.

"Aw, who was she?"

I press my lips together, refusing to utter Grey's name.

"It's alright." Paisley presses into me, undulating her hips like she's giving me a lap dance standing up. In a soft, inviting whisper, she breathes into my ear, "I can make you forget her."

Immediately, I shove her away.

Her twelve-inch heels can't keep up with her backward trot and she falls to the floor.

I look down at her in disgust. "Who said I wanted to forget her?"

"Priscilla!" Disco Girl's friends shoot over and pick her up off the floor. They all shoot me angry stares.

Priscilla? I thought her name was… actually, I forgot what her name was the moment she told me.

Humiliation mottles her features. Disco Girl scrambles to her feet.

I start to walk past her.

But now that she's gained the attention of her friends and the people close by, Disco Girl starts waving her hands.

She grabs me and surges into my face. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I growl out, staring down and watching the fear flit into her eyes. Slowly, I let my gaze rove her barely-there dress to her jiggling breasts and finally to her caterpillar eyelashes. "Someone like you will never match up to her."

She sucks in a breath as if she's never been rejected before. She's pretty enough. I bet all she ever had to do was push her body on a guy and he'd hand her the world. Well, I lost my world tonight, so I don't have anything to give her.

Annoyed, I wrench her hand off and stalk outside.

The heavy sound of footsteps chases me. Two bulky guys twice the size of regular human beings charge outside.

I grin up at them. "Gentlemen, how can I help you?"

"He's the guy who pushed me," Disco Girl says, hustling out behind the giant on the left.

"How dare you push my sister." The guy growls as he grabs me by the collar.

I stare up calmly. "Bro, I don't know if you've noticed, but…" I lean forward and whisper, "your sister's a ho."

His eyes widen.

"No shame in that. I love ho's. Some would call me the male version?—"

His fist rears back and, when he lets it loose, the hairy knuckles bludgeon the side of my face.

"You wanna keep talking?" He shakes me.

Blood spurts from the side of my mouth. I taste the metallic tinge and I laugh.

"Freaking maniac," he snarls. "You think this is funny?"

"Again." I motion to him. "Hit me again."

"Psycho." He slams me in the face. More blood gushes.

My body slams into the pavement.

I spit to the side.

Red mingles with the garbage lining the path.

Damn, it hurts. Every nerve in my body flares with alarm. The signals push through my tendons to my mind, turning my head into an all-consuming ambush of fiery pain.

I'm not thinking about anything but the agony, the throbbing in my skull and the stars dancing in front of my eyes.

It's perfect.

"Again," I croak with a smirk.

"Ah!" The guy roars.

His sister grabs him before he can pummel me. "Don't! His dad is Jarod Cross. If you kill him, they'll send their lawyers or worse."

The giant considers me and then points, "Don't let me ever see your face around here again."

"If I ever see you again, I'll kill you. "

Remembering Grey's words twists the knife in deeper.

"No." I scramble toward the giant, on my knees like the rat that I am. "Hit me. Hit me!"

Disco Girl looks disgusted.

Her brother scoffs and storms back inside.

Behind me, two tail lights pierce the night.

A car door slams.

Two pairs of feet rush toward me.

"Zane!" Sol calls.

But Finn's the one who gets to me first. My brother kneels down, his face hard to read in the shadows.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "What are you doing here?"

"You went live with your location tagged, you moron." Sol cringes when he sees me. "What happened to your face?"

Silently, Finn rises. His lips are set in a thin line and his eyebrows are dogged and firm.

I grab his arm.

He looks down at me and I know, if I let go of his hand, he's going to barge into the nightclub, hunt down Disco Girl's brother and beat him to within an inch of his life.

"Don't bother," I slur.

Slowly, Finn's shoulders relax and he reaches an arm around me, indicating that I should stand.

"Did they hurt your wrist?" Finn asks.

I glance down at my sling.

Finn continues to scold me in that low, monotone voice. "You know the chances of you playing drums again is next to impossible, right? You want to worsen those odds?"

"Who cares if I play again?" I ask wearily.

Finn rears back like I hit him.

Sol's jaw thuds to the ground.

"What happened to the guy who laughed when the doctor said he might not play anymore? The guy who swore he wouldn't give up the drums for anything?" Sol demands.

I glare at the blood spattering on the pavement.

Sol lets out a low whistle. "Zane Cross losing his mind… over a girl? Is this really happening?"

"Let's go," Finn snaps.

Together, he and Sol help me to the car. When we get back to the hotel, I eagerly head to the suite, hoping I'll get a glimpse of Grey.

But the room is cleared out.

The flash drive bits disappeared.

Grey is gone.