The man dipped his head in a curt nod. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”
Shawn howled and clapped him on the back. “Oh, I’m sure that we will.”
Martin Jennings climbed out of the front seat and adjusted his suit jacket before he waved an indulgent hand toward the entrance of the extravagant home. “You are our guests of honor tonight. Anything behind those doors is yours. Feel free to indulge. Our parties are invite only, so you can be sure of full discretion by all attendees.”
Disquiet rumbled in the periphery. Somewhere at the edges of Richard’s brain. He hadn’t ever been to a party where a disclaimer was a necessity.
But he was too excited to acknowledge it. This feeling coming over him as they climbed the ten massive steps that led to the double-doors that had to be twenty-feet high.
This was it.
They were being invited into this world.
The Mylton Records world.
Everything they’d been striving for was right there, within their reach.
Their music was good. Really good. But it was going to take a label like Mylton Records backing them to shoot them into the stratosphere.
One side of the double doors opened to the sprawling home, nothing but sky-high ceilings and modern furniture and wealth seeping from the walls. Music blared from the speakers that pulsed a frenetic beat through the entire house.
Place packed.
Wall-to-wall.
Bodies crushed in the space like it was some kind of trendy nightclub rather than a mansion in Beverly Hills which was a mindfuck in itself.
Lights strobed and music blared, and his heart rate ratcheted, trying to take it all in.
Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.
Sure, he’d seen his fair share of shit out on the road, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen the unmitigated evidence of it quite like then.
Girls half dressed. Sitting on laps. Dancing on tables.
Dudes totally buck and running through the house.
Some in collars. Grinning. Dancing.
Nothing but a freak show.
A tumbler full of glittering amber was shoved into his hand.
Martin Jennings lifted his above his head. “To Carolina George rising to their full, unobstructed potential.”
“Fuck yeah, I will drink to that!” Shawn shouted, and they clinked glasses before they were clinking theirs with his, and Richard was tossing back the alcohol in a bid to settle his nerves that rattled and shook.
A disorder that blew.
The liquid burned a fiery path down his throat and pooled in his stomach. He was quickly given another, and he felt those nerves unfurl into a shaky confidence as he tossed the next one back and followed Martin through the throng. He led them into another room that was just as packed as the last.
Lights cut into a low, dizzying haze, a daze of strobing white and blue lights that thudded over the room. Semi-private sitting areas made up of plush couches were tucked along the edges of the walls and a full bar sat at the far end of the room.
There was a raging dance floor in the middle.
Martin gestured for them to follow, and he led them to one of the alcoves at the very back. Richard sank down into the comfort of a couch, watching the mayhem that hammered and thrashed.
A woman appeared in front of them carrying a tray, dressed in a thong and these little shiny dots covering her nipples. She dropped off a bottle and three shot glasses before she disappeared back into the crush.
Shawn laughed this seedy laugh, cut him a look, and said, “Holy fuck. Told you, man. We’re about to be kings.”
Martin poured three shots. “To tonight.”
Richard tossed it back.
Welcomed the burn and the fire.
The night moved on, and that haze grew, his mind slipping and sliding and shifting the more drinks that he sucked down. The woman returned with another bottle, though this time she also set a little tray with a small pile of white powder onto the coffee table.
Martin sat forward and cut it.
“Tomorrow we make you superstars. Tomorrow you sign and you become part of the Mylton Records family. But tonight…tonight we celebrate. Tonight, you get to see who you’re going to be.” Martin sent Richard a glance. Something that almost looked like a warning.
And fuck.
Richard had the urge to get the fuck up and run out the door, all the way back to Dalton. But this—this was what they’d fought for. Years spent on the road. Half starved. Penniless.
It was one night.
One goddamn night.
What could it hurt to indulge?
Shawn didn’t hesitate to do a line when the tray was passed his way.
Richard did. He felt this shiver of dread that curled down his spine like a slick of ice. And he was wondering just what the fame was gonna cost when he leaned forward and dragged the poison through his nose.
The burn was different this time. A sharp sting that didn’t take all that long to shift into bliss.
A flush of power.
A rush of truth.
Fact that this was where they’d been heading all along.
Lyrics hummed through his mind and the beat of a bass drummed through his soul.
He grinned and sat back on the couch.
Tonight.
Tonight.
Shawn banged an agitated fist on his knee.
“You know who we should call?”
“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his chin.
“Lily. She’s a ton of fun.”
Richard guessed he was too far gone to catch what flashed in Martin Jennings’ eyes when he said, “I agree.”
Thirty-Two
Violet
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so exhausted and alive at the same time. My spirit soaring and my body aching.
Not that I was going to complain about that considering it was wholly due to the number of times Richard and I had reached for each other last night.
The man taking me again and again.
Loving me soft.
Fucking me hard.
Our reconnection taking us through every emotion.
The highs and the lows. The desperation and the savoring. The joy and the sorrow. The adoration and the lust. The laughter and the tears.
I should have slept like a rock.
Instead, I’d been
