Toxic: Logan's Story (Torn #4)(22)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

This is for you, Mikey—for all the times you tried to control me. I can’t be controlled or contained. My stepdad tried for years, and he never managed it.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

This is for you, world—for f*cking me over every time I turn around.

Thump. Thump.

Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

My drumsticks hit the drums one last time, and the crowd roared as the song ended.

Fuck you, world.





Sweat coated my body as we ended the last concert of the tour. I was sticky and gross, but I didn’t give a damn. The adrenaline pumping through my veins made me feel invincible. As I stood to walk offstage, I glanced back at my drum kit longingly. She’d been my best friend for the past year, and I wasn’t sure how I felt now that I wouldn’t be with her every night. Good God, I need to get laid before I start whispering sweet nothings to my foot pedal.

Drake finished up with telling the crowd how f*cking awesome they were just as I reached the edge of the stage. I could hear the crowd, most of them female, screaming and begging for us to come back onstage—or more like, begging Drake to come back. I didn’t know how Chloe did it. Those bitches knew he was married, but they didn’t seem to care. Night after night, show after show, they would continue to throw themselves at him. He’d gently push them away as they tried to climb on top of him. It was gross, and it made me want to vomit.

Chloe never said anything in front of the guys or me, but I knew it caused tension between Chloe and Drake. It would cause tension in any relationship, but she had known what she was getting into when she married him. She’d seen it happen all the time when they first met, but now, it was amplified tenfold. I knew that both of them were relieved now that the tour was officially over.

We’d played for almost nine months straight. I was exhausted, and I knew the guys were too. I couldn’t wait until we were big enough to have a say in our tour dates. For now though, the label was concentrating on making us as big as possible, and so far, it seemed to be working. Just as I’d suspected, the U.S. tour had been a huge success, so the label had lined up a U.K. tour as well. Thankfully, they’d decided to keep it to three months instead of six, like the U.S. tour. I was exhausted. Now that the U.K. tour was over, all I wanted to do was get back to L.A. and sleep for ten years.

The guys followed me offstage. Without missing a beat, Drake walked straight over to Chloe and picked her up. I couldn’t help but grin at the way she squealed. He brought his mouth down onto hers, and the rest of the world was lost to them. I felt a little twinge of jealousy as I watched them. Out of all of us, I always thought it would be Eric who settled down first. He was the…calmest one of our group. Adam and Drake were the man-whores, and I was the one who didn’t have any emotions whatsoever, so Eric had been the obvious choice. Instead, Drake had traded in his man-whore card for a certified and sealed Chloe card.

I was happy for them most of the time. I really was. Drake deserved some happiness, and Chloe was one of the nicest girls I’d ever met. I tried to tell that to the jealousy running through my veins, but it still reared its ugly head. I couldn’t help it. Sometimes, I hated that they were so happy while I was alone and miserable. Maybe if they hadn’t f*cked Logan over so hard, I’d be with him now. Maybe I would have been in his arms at this very moment. So many maybes.

I growled in aggravation as I walked past them and down the hall to my dressing room. I had it bad for Logan. I knew it, and after our talk before I’d left for the tour, he knew it, too. I just wasn’t sure what would happen once I saw him again. Truthfully, I was kind of scared to see him again. It had been over nine months since I saw him last. He’d been a wreck then, and I wasn’t sure what I would come back to. We’d texted and talked a few times, but I could never gauge his mood.

As soon as I closed the door to my dressing room, I sagged in relief. I loved this life, but it was always so f*cking loud. The only time we would have any peace was when we were on the bus, traveling from show to show. Even then, it would never be completely quiet. We’d been working on our next album as we toured, trying to figure out which of our old songs we wanted to use while working on new ones as well. I didn’t know how many times I’d thrown my pillow at Eric and Adam because they had been playing their f*cking guitars at four in the morning while I had been trying to sleep.

Peeling off my clothes, I walked to the back of the room. I f*cking smelled, and the shower in the back of the room was calling—no, screaming my name. I turned on the water and waited until it was scalding to jump in. I moaned in relief when the spray hit my back. I took my time with scrubbing every inch of my skin before shutting off the water. I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out into the chilly room. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I shivered as I walked over to where I’d left my clean clothes earlier.

I dropped my towel, and I pulled on my jeans and a loose-fitting Escape the Fate T-shirt. I’d had it for years, and it was worn in places, but I didn’t give a damn. It was comfortable, and after wearing a miniskirt and a practically see-through, skin-tight shirt all night, my body was begging for comfort. I was slipping my feet into my favorite pair of Converse when my dressing room door opened. I looked up to see Chloe poking her head in.