Seductive Chaos (Bad Rep #3)(29)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

Then we pushed and shoved our way to the front where I knew Cole could see me.

Their music started low and languid. Cole’s deep, throaty growl into the mic echoed around the room. The crowd went instantly quiet, the light of a hundred cellphones lighting up.

I knew they were going to be amazing as always, though I couldn’t help but pick up on a very significant difference. It wasn’t anything anyone in the crowd would notice. It was only something close to those on stage would be aware of.

Cole stood out front, his hands clasped around the mic, his eyes closed. Garrett and Mitch stood behind him, their faces turned down to their instruments. Jordan sat at his drums, his mouth set in a firm line as he beat in time to the strains of the music.

They looked like a rock band.

But they each looked miserable. They were musicians that fed off each other. They were always looking and communicating with one another before, during and after every show.

Tonight it was like watching four separate individuals up there rather than one cohesive unit.

There was a major rift going on. And for the first time I truly worried for the fate of my favorite band. Because this didn’t seem like something they’d easily fix.

But then Cole opened his mouth and I stopped worrying about the boys’ drama and allowed myself to get lost in the show.

“I’m here to own you, bitches!” Cole purred, his voice a dark promise. He growled again, Jordan picking up the beat on his drums. Garrett slid his fingers along the strings, making them scream.

“And you’re going to let me. . .because you f**king want it! You’ll f**king love it!” The girls started going crazy and I was getting jostled from behind as a wave of arms and hair and perfume pressed forward, trying to get closer to the man who had us enthralled.

“Can I have you?” he screamed into the crowd and in one voice we all screamed back.

“YES!”

Then the music erupted and I forgot how much the man standing above me infuriated and confused me. I simply became like everyone else. I worshipped him. I desired him.

I wanted him to own me.

Cole curled his hands around the microphone and leaned out toward the writhing mass. Garrett’s head was down, his blonde hair covering his face. His arms taut as he played like he had just made a deal with the devil. Mitch’s face was now tilted toward the ceiling, his eyes closed as if lost. And Jordan was a machine, pounding the drums in an exhausting rhythm.

But we were all waiting for the magic. For Cole to start singing. And when he did I knew, without a doubt, it was something special. I understood why the record label was pushing him forward. Why they were trying to market him above the other guys. Mitch, Garrett, and Jordan were amazing. They were talented and without them, the band wouldn’t exist.

But Cole was something else entirely. He was sex. He was destruction. He was raw and desperate.

My god, he was fantastic!

Festering and bleeding I’m dying in vain

Spoiled and lost, my soul black and stained

You despise, you destroy, you maim, you control,

I hate you for the life you claimed and you stole.

Filth and defile

Loathe and revile

You dig inside and

Kiss my rotten smile.

I murder your memory,

slash it away

I rip your face from my mind,

Whatever it takes.

The blurred lines of the past,

Eat away at the truth,

Chase me, claim me,

Tighten the noose.

Filth and defile,

Hate without guile,

You pull out my insides,

And break my broken smile.

I want your death,

I want your pain,

I want to be bound

I want your chains.

Filth and defile,

I drown in denial,

You rip me apart

You kill me with a smile.

Kill me with a smile. . .

Cole ended on a long, tortured wail that made my insides shiver. This was one of Garrett’s more morbid songs. Thank god he was with Riley now. His new stuff was a lot less scary.

Being at a Generation Rejects show was an experience unlike any other. And despite the tension that seemed to echo from the stage, it was electric. It was frantic. It could be consuming.

And I wanted to enjoy it. And I would have if not for the sea of screaming, and sometimes shirtless women just waiting to become the object of my annoyance and desire’s new plaything.

I stared up at the man making love to the crowd from the stage and wished I could stop craving him. Stop wanting him with every fiber of my being. But it was like asking me to stop watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. There were some things out of my control.

Then Cole looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine and he winked. His smile lighting up his face in self-satisfied glory. When he looked at me like that, it was as though he were seeing only me. And that I was the girl he wanted out of anyone he could be with.

I was enough.

I hated him for these glimmers of tenderness that made keeping emotional distance downright impossible. It was hard to hate the man when you loved the heart.

Shit, what was I thinking?

I winked back; shaking my hips a bit in the way I knew drove Cole wild and he widened his eyes and pointed at me, singling me out.

It felt good. It made me feel special.

The girl beside me started to squeal loudly in my ear. As if Cole’s sex-drenched smile, as if his attention, were for her.

Sad, delusional girl.

My face started to redden and my fingers turned into claws. The rage-fueled she-beast was waking from her slumber. The possessive, territorial dragon was ready to take this chick out.

I leaned back and elbowed the twit sharply in the gut, digging my bone in with enough strength to make her gasp. Then I body checked her out of my way, using my ample ass as leverage.

She fell on her butt with a loud screech. I looked down at her with a smile, just as self-satisfied as Cole’s had ever been. I wiggled my fingers in her direction and she glared at me, though with no retaliation.

Maysie looped her arm around my waist and pulled me farther to the side and away from the throng of people.

“I’m not wearing the proper clothing for a bar brawl. So watch it,” she warned. I shrugged, turning my attention back to the boys on stage.

The rest of the show passed without further incident. As soon as The Rejects were finished, the house music came on while they quickly broke down their equipment. I drank a few more beers, enjoying the nice alcoholic haze that had descended.

Cole was at my side soon enough.

“You ready to get out of here?” he whispered in my ear, brushing my hair off my neck and putting his lips over my steady pulse.