Riot: Hudson Ryker's Story (Black Hearts Still Beat Book 5) Page 3

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I crossed the room and knocked on Hudson’s door. He didn’t answer, but it wasn’t locked, so I let myself inside.

  “Fuck—Molly?” He gawked at me.

  “We should probably talk. Look, I’m sorry if I—”

  “Not everything is about you, you know,” he spat the words.

  They hit me like a physical blow, and I reared back. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Hudson, I…”

  “You can go.” He folded his arms beneath his head and focused on the ceiling, refusing to look at me.

  I didn’t blame him.

  I’d shut him out. He’d been nothing but understanding. He’d held me every single night we were in Long Island. He’d waited for me to tell him… to open up and explain what had happened to send me running to Atlanta that night.

  But I couldn’t.

  When it had come down to it, I hadn’t been able to do it.

  “Hey.” Hudson slipped into my room. Or I suppose it was our room since he spent every night in here with me.

  Everyone suspected we were sleeping together, but they were wrong. Hudson held me while I slept. I couldn’t explain it, but his touch kept the monsters at bay, giving me some respite. I still tossed and turned, but he was there every time I bolted upright or cried out.

  “Hey,” I said, weary all the way down to my bones.

  “So, it’s the last night…” he said, searching my face for answers I didn’t have.

  “Yeah. Eva said she’s going to talk to Letty.”

  Hudson stripped down to his boxers without a second thought. There had been a time when I would have salivated at the sight of his lean, cut body. The tan skin pulled taut over his rippling muscles, and the intricate ink swirled over his chest. But that was then… before.

  Pulling back the sheet, he waited for me to nestle into his body and wrapped an arm around me. “You know, Molly girl, you’re going to have to talk to someone eventually.”

  “I… I know.”

  “I’m here, I’m right here.”

  “I know,” I whispered again, my chest tightening at the unspoken plea in his words.

  But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him.

  Part of me suspected he knew—that they all knew. I was changed. Withdrawn and skittish. Scared. But no one pushed. Not even Eva.

  Then he whispered back, “I’m sorry, Mol. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  He knew.

  Hudson knew and he was still here, holding me.

  I didn’t know what to make of it.

  What to make of him.

  But I knew whatever had once existed between us was gone.

  Because the girl who had once hoped to tame the Black Hearts drummer…

  She was gone.

  HUDSON

  The Stade de France wasn’t all that dissimilar to the venues we were used to playing back home. It was bigger, sure, but it was the lilt of French accents echoing through the vast space as the roadies and stagehands got everything into place, that really stood out.

  “I’m here, I’m here.” Alistair Portman, our manager, appeared, looking more than a little flustered.

  “Ali boy.” Levi leaped down off the edge of the stage and greeted him. “You’re looking… sweaty.”

  We all snorted, and Alistair fumed. “Yes, well there was a mix-up at airport security.” He loosened his tie. Dude always insisted on looking the part even in the eighty-five-degree heat.

  He hadn’t been able to fly out with us. There was some big meeting he’d needed to attend back at Razorsharp Records HQ in Atlanta.

  “But I’m here now. What did I miss?”

  “We’re running behind.” Letty approached, running her eyes over the set list. “There was an issue with lighting, but it’s sorted now.”

  “Good. I need a drink and then you can get me up to speed. Everything good here?” He motioned between the four of us. Five, including Eva.

  “Everything’s fine.” She smiled, but Alistair didn’t look convinced, searching out our newest recruit.

  “And that situation?” he asked, scrubbing his jaw.

  “Ali.” Eva sighed. “I thought you were okay with this.”

  He held up his hands. “I am. I just… well, it’s my job to make sure we don’t have any distractions.” His concerned gaze flickered to me. “We have a lot riding on this tour.”

  He didn’t need to tell us twice. We all knew the deal.

  We’d scored a big endorsement with Masterpiece a while back, but it had been touch and go for a minute when Levi slipped off the sobriety wagons and relapsed. We couldn’t afford another screw up.

  I glanced over to where Molly was handing out bottles of water to some of the roadies. She wore a smile, but I knew it was fake. I knew because she had the kind of smile—real smile—that was hard to forget. The kind of smile that imprinted itself on your mind, on your fucking soul.

  So yeah, the smile she wore was as fake and as forced as they came. But it wasn’t my problem. She’d made that as clear as a fucking day.

  Even if I’d had to remind her earlier in the hotel suite.

  Guilt snaked through me, but I ignored it. I didn’t owe her anything, just like she didn’t owe me a damn thing. But she’d caught me off guard coming to check in on me. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it, so I did the only thing I was good at.

  I lashed out.

  Fuck.

  Her being here, us being around each other twenty-four-seven. I was beginning to think it was a disaster waiting to happen.

  But it was too fucking late now.

  She was here.

  I was here.

  And neither of us were escaping anytime soon.

  “Go again,” Levi demanded, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “Dude, we already played it twice.”

  “Yeah, and it was off key both fucking times.”

  “It was not—”

  “I swear to God, Ryker. Just do your goddamn job.”

  “Okay, okay,” Damon intervened, as usual. Just like he did whenever tempers were frayed. And right now, I was two seconds away from driving my drumstick up Levi Hunter’s fucking ass.

  “It wasn’t off key. It was near damn perfect. He’s just being—”

  “Hudson, leave it.” Damon silently implored. “Go get a drink or something. We’ll take five and when we come back, we’ll run it again.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled, climbing out from behind my kit and stretching my legs.

  I loved performing. Loved that moment right before the lights came up and the opening beat dropped—usually by my own fucking hand—and the anticipation crackled in the air, rising above the hum of the crowd.

  But rehearsals… sometimes, like right now, rehearsals sucked ass.

  “You sounded good out there,” Letty said, handing me a bottle of water as I climbed off stage.

  “Yeah, tell that to Levi.”

  “He’s just feeling the pressure. You know as well as I do, the opening show sets the tone for the tour. He just wants it to be—”

  “Perfect, yeah, I know.” I ran a hand through my hair and glanced over to where Phoebe was rubbing Levi’s shoulders, whispering words of reassurance and encouragement into his ear no doubt.

  She’d only been with us a few months, but she had slotted in with ease. I liked her; we all did. She calmed Levi. Settled the storm inside him. She was his anchor.

  His person.

  “Hud?”

  “Yeah… what?” I barked a little too harshly.

  Letty frowned. “You sure you’re good?”

  “Jesus, Panem, get off my ass already. I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

  “You know one day, I’m going to crack that tough shell of yours wide open.” A playful smirk tugged at her mouth.

  “Nah. You don’t want to know what I’m hiding under all this.” I swept a hand down myself, giving her a Hudson Ryker trademark smirk.

  She saw right through it but didn’t say anything. Likely because she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to stand around sharing feelings or any of that shit. I wanted to throw myself into the tour, into performing and do the one thing—the only fucking thing—I was actually good at.

  When I sat behind my drum kit, sticks in hand, foot poised on the bass drum pedal, I wasn’t Hudson Ryker, high school dropout and good for nothing, I was something.

  Somebody.

  I was a motherfucking rock star.

  I didn’t need anything except a heavy beat and a hungry crowd.

  That’s all I would ever need.

  The rest was just white noise, a way to kill the time and forget all the other shit. The parties and girls and all that stuff, it was fun, sure. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t fill the void.

  This… this filled the void.

  This made me come alive.

  It made me feel worth something.

  “You’re a good guy, Hud.” Letty went on. “One of the best. Don’t sell yourself short. You know, now Rafe and Levi have found their—”

  “Don’t even go there, Let. This rock star isn’t looking to settle down. Too much pussy in the ocean for that shit.”

  Letty chuckled, but her expression quickly dropped as something caught her eye over my shoulder. I didn’t need to turn around to know what—or who—had her attention.

  I felt her.

  Molly.

  Fuck.

  I glanced back and our eyes collided, hurt written all over her face.

  “I… I was just… getting more refreshments.”

  “You don’t have to do that, you know. The venue has people—”

  “I don’t mind.” She focused on Letty, refusing to meet my eyes.

  I didn’t blame her.

  Me and my big fucking mouth.

  But it was better like this, better if the line was redrawn between us. I wasn’t like Rafe and Levi. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to let somebody in. Even if for a second, I’d wondered…

  Wondered what it might be like.

  “I’ll just…” She thumbed in the opposite direction and took off as if the devil himself was nipping at her heels.

  “I see things are—”

  “Do me a favor, yeah, Let?” I said, and she gave me a small nod.

  “Anything.”

  “Look out for her.”

  Because I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t be that person for her.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked as we all piled into the black SUV.

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could eat a horse.”

  “Seriously, Hunter. At this rate, Phoebe will have to put you on a diet.”

  “Don’t look at me.” She chuckled, laying her head on Levi’s shoulder.

  “You do realize he’s probably replacing one addiction with another.” My brow lifted.

  “Hud, don’t be an asshole.” Damon glowered.

  “What? It’s true. He’s clean, sure. But he’s constantly eating. He’s got—”

  “Do you know what, fucker? I don’t even care. I’m sober. I’m happy. If I start getting a muffin top, I’ll have to get some stretchy pants. Isn’t that right, Bee?” He hooked his arm around Phoebe’s neck and dropped a kiss to her head.

  She let out a big yawn and Levi frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, babe. I’m tired. Must be jet lag.”

  “We can get an early night.”

  “Like hell we can,” I said. “It’s our last night of freedom for a while, we’re going out.”

  A chorus of groans filled the car. Letty looked up from her cell phone, finally joining the conversation. “It’s too late to organize—”

  “We have security. We can be incognito.” I didn’t want to go back to the hotel and sit around watching Rafe with Eva, and Levi with Phoebe, it was fucking depressing.

  “So… who’s in?”

  Molly didn’t even acknowledge me, staring out the tinted windows watching the city roll by. She’d avoided me since overhearing my conversation with Letty. I didn’t try to apologize. What was the point? I needed to focus on the tour, on ignoring the constant texts from my mom, and Molly needed to do whatever the hell it was she needed to do.

  “Seriously, no one wants to get out and see the sights? Damon?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll go with the majority.”

  “Fuck that. It’s Paris. Paris. We can’t just sit in the hotel and—”

  “Fine.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m in.”

  “Right choice. Rafe? Eva?” They shared a look and I murmured under my breath. “This is supposed to be the best time of our lives. We’re living the fucking dream and you four are too wrapped up in each other to care.”

  “You’re just jealous you haven’t got pussy on tap,” Levi shot back.

  “Leviathan Hunter.” Phoebe gasped, flushing from the tips of her ears to the curve of her neck.

  “Honeybee, it’s cute you’re embarrassed but there’s no hiding the way I make you scream.”

  Levi brought his mouth down on hers, kissing her hard, giving zero fucks we were all crammed into the SUV.

  “You coming or what?” I turned my attention back on Rafe.

  “I think we’ll pass tonight.”

  Of course they fucking would.

  “Just you and me then, Donnelley. Hope you’re ready to paint the town red.”

  “Hud,” Letty started. “Alistair—”

  “Ali boy can go fuck himself. I need a drink.”

  And I needed not to be surrounded by all the puke-inducing PDA.

  “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” I glanced around the hole-in-the-wall dive bar Stalter and Johnson had brought us to. Letty had wanted to call ahead and make proper arrangements, but we’d reassured her we could be discreet. And Stalter said he knew a place where we wouldn’t be accosted.

  There was discreet… and then there was this.

  “Yeah, well, just be thankful I’m even here,” Damon grumbled.

  “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “My problem?” His brow arched.

  I drained my beer and slammed it down on the bar. The old man who served us, clearly not recognizing us from Adam, glanced our way. “Sorry,” I mumbled, mouthing, “Another.”

  He nodded and got me a fresh beer.

  “Merci beaucoup,” Damon said.

  “Merci beaucoup,” I mocked. “Who the fuck are you right now?”

  “You’re a dick.”

  “At least I use my dick. When’s the last time you dipped your end in something other than your fist?” I leaned back against the bar, rubbing my eyes over the handful of other people drinking. All old balding men. Not a woman in sight.

  Where the fuck had Stalter brought us?

  “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

  Damon’s question caught me off guard and I asked, “Do what?”

  “Pick up some French hottie and dip your end in her?” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

  “French women are hot.”

  “You think all women are hot.”

  “Touché.”

  “You didn’t answer my question…”

  Turning back around, I dropped my forearms on the bar and lowered my head. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to make a point?”

  “What are you doing, Hud? With Molly?”

  “Nothing. I’m not doing a goddamn thing.”

  “But in Long Island—”

  “She needed a shoulder. I was happy to oblige.”

  “A shoulder?” He barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

  “Look, what do you want me to say? It’s better this way. I can’t give her more than I have to give.”

  He laid his hand on my shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe what you have to give her is enough.”

  I clicked my tongue, bringing the beer bottle to my lips. “I’m not cut out for that life. Never have been, never will be.”

  I’d seen what love could do to a person. How it could seep right down into their soul and poison them, rotting them from the inside out.

  “You know what happened to your mom—”

  “Don’t.” It came out a harsh breath.

  “She’s sick, Hud. She’s always been sick.”

  But she wasn’t sick.

  She was heartbroken.

  Ruined.

  And she would never recover.

  MOLLY

  “Mornin’.” Eva gave me a warm smile as I joined her at the breakfast counter in their suite. “Sleep well?”

  “Okay, I guess. You?”

  She flushed, dipping her head and I managed a small chuckle. “That good, huh?”

  “Rafe is—”

  “Rafe is what?” The guy in question appeared wearing dark gray sweats and a fitted black tee. I didn’t think I’d ever seen the Black Hearts bassist look so casual before.

  “Your girl was just telling me how well she slept,” I teased, ignoring the pit in my stomach.

  “Was she now?” He cupped the back of Eva’s neck and kissed her. “Morning, Starshine.”

  They were so freaking cute, and no one deserved happiness more than Eva.

  But watching them hurt.

  It hurt because I knew I would never have that.

  Not now.

  Not after everything.

  Bile washed in my stomach, churning like a laundromat.

  “Molly?” Eva’s voice held a note of concern.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Any sign of Hudson yet?” Rafe asked no one in particular.

  “He’s still sleeping.” Damon wandered out of their room, looking a little worse for wear.

  “Late night?”

  “Don’t ask.” He gave Rafe a strange look, his gaze moving to me.

  “Anyone for more coffee?” I rushed out, needing to keep myself busy.

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  “Rafe? Eva?”

  “Sure.” She pushed her mug toward me, and I set out making a fresh pot.

  Levi and Phoebe joined us next, Letty and Alistair too. Until the only person missing was Hudson.