front of my black T-shirt, blending into the cotton fabric like it'd never been. It only takes him a second to come back, smashing his hand into my right cheek. I end up biting my tongue, hard, reaching up and smacking him right in the lip ring. That can't feel good, right?
“You little fuck,” Turner growls, going at me with a vengeance that's been a long time coming. Ever since that night he slunk off of our bus, before he became a constant plague in my life, I was ready for this. And so was he. Just something about Turner and I doesn't mix. Maybe it's all alpha male, mating ritual bullshit, but it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, we can't coexist, not really.
“Turner!” A split second after I hear his name called, he's being hauled off of me and pulled back by Ronnie and Jesse. They do a good job, too, managing to avoid his wild flails as he attempts to break free. They've done this before, I see. “What the hell?” Ronnie asks, releasing his friend and pushing him gently back into the wall. “This guy got knocked down by a tornado . Can you leave your little spat until after his concussion heals? And what about your bullet wound, hmm? Did you forget about that one?” Turner just looks down at me and grits his teeth. One hand comes up and feels the blood under his nose, and then, then he smiles. What the fuck?
“Need help up?” Sydney asks, holding out her hand for mine. I look at it and then back up at her. What the hell does she think of me now? I still, still, still have a freaking erection.
“I think I'm okay,” I say as blood dribbles down my chin and joins Turner's on my shirt. Great. I run my hand down my mouth and pull it away, gazing at the red shimmer with a frown.
“Not bad, for an emo bitch,” Turner says and then he moves away, strutting through the curtain, wearing his bloody nose like a badge of pride. Ronnie rolls his eyes and follows after, taking the Jesse guy with him. Naomi stays though and looks down at me with a sour expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” she asks me as I wave Sydney's hand away and struggle to my feet. The room spins and their faces crack and blur, but I nod anyway. It's dumb as hell, not my MO at fucking all, but here I am trying to act all macho and shit. That's not me.
“I'll be okay if I sit down,” I admit, watching the curtain blur as another face pops through it. It's Hayden. She looks me up and down with a sneer, tilting her chin up and putting a hand on her hip. She's got on these ridiculously tight, hot pink leather pants that Naomi almost flipped shit over. Her thong is hanging out the back, and she's paired it with a black crop top that doesn't look a fucking thing like rock 'n' roll. Hayden looks more like a Britney Spears wannabe at this point. I don't ever want to tell her that, but it's true. I push last night out of my mind. I don't even want to go there.
“There are some chairs behind the water cooler. Come on, I'll take you over there.”
“Thank you, Sydney,” I say as I meet Hayden's blue eyes. I can imagine what this probably looks like to her, like I just picked another woman at random, like she doesn't mean a damn thing to me.
“You're fucking pathetic, Dax, you know that?” Hayden quips, and then she's gone, disappearing in a sea of laughter and false greetings. I alienated her and she's dealing the best way she knows how. Crap. I've gotta spill what I know to Naomi and whoever else, Ronnie, Lola, Turner. I feel like everything is spinning out of control, and if I don't take charge soon, my ticket will be up and I'll be finding out really fucking fast what secrets of mine Stephen has come up with.
I snag a ride back to the hotel with Milo and practically race up to my brother's room. I'm going so fast that one of the security guards actually grabs me and does a full pat down. No surface left untouched, I'll tell you that. So by the time I actually do get in Trey's room, I'm fuming. And so sopping friggin' wet downstairs
“You little fuck,” Turner growls, going at me with a vengeance that's been a long time coming. Ever since that night he slunk off of our bus, before he became a constant plague in my life, I was ready for this. And so was he. Just something about Turner and I doesn't mix. Maybe it's all alpha male, mating ritual bullshit, but it doesn't matter. Whatever it is, we can't coexist, not really.
“Turner!” A split second after I hear his name called, he's being hauled off of me and pulled back by Ronnie and Jesse. They do a good job, too, managing to avoid his wild flails as he attempts to break free. They've done this before, I see. “What the hell?” Ronnie asks, releasing his friend and pushing him gently back into the wall. “This guy got knocked down by a tornado . Can you leave your little spat until after his concussion heals? And what about your bullet wound, hmm? Did you forget about that one?” Turner just looks down at me and grits his teeth. One hand comes up and feels the blood under his nose, and then, then he smiles. What the fuck?
“Need help up?” Sydney asks, holding out her hand for mine. I look at it and then back up at her. What the hell does she think of me now? I still, still, still have a freaking erection.
“I think I'm okay,” I say as blood dribbles down my chin and joins Turner's on my shirt. Great. I run my hand down my mouth and pull it away, gazing at the red shimmer with a frown.
“Not bad, for an emo bitch,” Turner says and then he moves away, strutting through the curtain, wearing his bloody nose like a badge of pride. Ronnie rolls his eyes and follows after, taking the Jesse guy with him. Naomi stays though and looks down at me with a sour expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” she asks me as I wave Sydney's hand away and struggle to my feet. The room spins and their faces crack and blur, but I nod anyway. It's dumb as hell, not my MO at fucking all, but here I am trying to act all macho and shit. That's not me.
“I'll be okay if I sit down,” I admit, watching the curtain blur as another face pops through it. It's Hayden. She looks me up and down with a sneer, tilting her chin up and putting a hand on her hip. She's got on these ridiculously tight, hot pink leather pants that Naomi almost flipped shit over. Her thong is hanging out the back, and she's paired it with a black crop top that doesn't look a fucking thing like rock 'n' roll. Hayden looks more like a Britney Spears wannabe at this point. I don't ever want to tell her that, but it's true. I push last night out of my mind. I don't even want to go there.
“There are some chairs behind the water cooler. Come on, I'll take you over there.”
“Thank you, Sydney,” I say as I meet Hayden's blue eyes. I can imagine what this probably looks like to her, like I just picked another woman at random, like she doesn't mean a damn thing to me.
“You're fucking pathetic, Dax, you know that?” Hayden quips, and then she's gone, disappearing in a sea of laughter and false greetings. I alienated her and she's dealing the best way she knows how. Crap. I've gotta spill what I know to Naomi and whoever else, Ronnie, Lola, Turner. I feel like everything is spinning out of control, and if I don't take charge soon, my ticket will be up and I'll be finding out really fucking fast what secrets of mine Stephen has come up with.
I snag a ride back to the hotel with Milo and practically race up to my brother's room. I'm going so fast that one of the security guards actually grabs me and does a full pat down. No surface left untouched, I'll tell you that. So by the time I actually do get in Trey's room, I'm fuming. And so sopping friggin' wet downstairs
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