Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(50)
I slowed, even though my pulse raced inside of me, and I pulled back to see her beautiful face. Beautiful, tired, and filled with all the sadness in the world. “You were amazing,” she said, before I could ask her if she was okay, stupid question as it was. “I have waited a lifetime to see you both on stage like that, and it was, honestly, more than I ever dreamed.”
“For me too, Bella,” I told her, adjusting my hold so I could keep her against me but also wipe away the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye. Leaning in, I pressed my lips to her cheek and whispered, “Do you want me to kill him? I know people.”
A snort of sobbing laughter came from her. “You idiot. You are people.”
It didn’t escape my attention that she hadn’t exactly turned my offer down regarding Grayson’s demise, but I knew her well enough to realize that, despite her anger at him, she loved that dangerous asshole and it would destroy a part of her if he were gone from this world. For that, and out of my own respect for him, I wasn’t going to interfere. At least not yet.
Billie wiggled against me, and I reluctantly released her. Since waking in the hospital, I’d lost my ability to separate myself from her, and our time on the plane had only made it worse. It felt like she was mine again, and fuck if letting her go, especially when she jumped straight into Rhett’s arms, didn’t tear me up inside.
A hand landed on my shoulder. “It’s okay, bro. I know the feeling.” Jace’s smile grew bigger. “And while I enjoy seeing you suffer, I also suffer, so I’m not going to rub it in.”
“You’ll be rubbing one out tonight,” I snarled, feeling a slide of anger in my gut.
“Don’t I fucking know it,” Jace groaned, before he shook his head and stopped looking Billie’s way. “For real, though. Thanks for tonight. I’ve never let myself think about us being on stage together, because I already had too many shattered dreams. But fuck… it was better than I’d expected.”
His words brought back my excitement, and as I rubbed a hand over my face, I attempted to pull myself together. “It was everything. My father will probably try to murder me for this, but I would do it all the exact same way again, no matter the consequences.”
“We’ll figure out something regarding Giovanni,” Jace said, his expression souring. He’d never liked my father, and the feeling was mutual. But Jace was no longer a punk-ass kid. He was rich and famous, and he had a lot of resources as well. It wasn’t an even fight, but with me by his side, the odds were a hell of a lot better than we’d ever had.
Something to consider once we’d finished this tour.
The celebration backstage picked up until it was near deafening. Billie was right in the middle of it all, some of the dark clouds in her eyes fading as she grew more excited—helped in part by Grayson stalking off and disappearing not long after leaving the stage.
“Party tonight!” Jace shouted, a bottle of Champagne in his hand as he shot the top off, sending the liquid bursting free. “VIP is set up in Club Lovin’. The limos leave from the hotel in two hours.”
He chugged from the bottle before handing it to me, and despite my absolute fucking distaste for this fairy piss of a drink, I took a swig. I was a rock star today, and those bastards were messy and free.
For the first time in my life, I was going to be the same.
When we left the venue, fans lined the drive out, and when our SUVs sped away, people were screaming and trying to jump over the barrier. “Holy shit,” I said, shaking my head. Jace, Billie, and Rhett were in the same car, and they just laughed. “Is it always like this?”
Jace dropped his head back, a broad smile on his face as he took another drink from the bottle. “Every fucking time. It’s like a shot to my heart and my fucking dick.”
Billie snorted. “Well, that explains the first night I came back to your band suite. That chick had vocals that gave you a run for your money.” She let out a low laugh before her voice grew breathier. “Jace, oh Jace. Fuck me, fuck me you fucking rock star.”
Rhett laughed so loudly that it drowned out the end of Billie’s words, and Jace just shook his head. “What can I say, groupies love some cock. Jace’s cock, to be more specific.”
“The fact that you speak about yourself in the third person,” I added drily, “tells me that you’ve been famous for too long. Someone needs to beat that shit out of you.”
“You can fucking try, asshole” he shot back, and instead of wanting to beat him, I was resisting the urge to hug him. Having my best friend back, even if his ego was the size of the stadium we’d just played in, was knocking my emotions around.
Jace finished the bottle then, dropping it to the ground before he opened a small panel in the middle of the car. From there he pulled a decanter and four crystal tumblers. “We need to toast tonight,” he said, dropping a shot of whiskey into each. “This was a long time coming, and we actually killed it.”
“I should kill you,” Billie said shortly when she grabbed her glass. “You used my fucking song without my permission. I expressly told you that you couldn’t.”
Jace swiveled in his seat to meet her glare. “What? We had a moment. You totally gave me permission.”
Billie spluttered on her first sip of the expensive whiskey. I’d already tasted it, and it was smooth, so her reaction was all about Jace’s comment. “What moment? You looked at me, and I offered my commiseration and told you to sort your fucking band out.”