White Trash Damaged Part 17

"What? You said yourself he insisted I come. That doesn't sound like a guy excited about having some other woman's hands on him."

Donna stepped to the side, and I had a perfect view of Tucker's face. The nearly naked model was straddling his lap. I gasped as Eric leaned in next to my ear to whisper.

"That's because he shot this scene yesterday. He never intended for you to see it. Donna insisted they reshoot it."

I glanced up at him, his face an inch from mine as his eyes locked onto mine.

"He didn't know." Eric's words rang loudly in my ears.

Pain ripped through my chest like someone had actually stabbed me and twisted the knife. My hand flew up to my heart and landed on the locket Tucker had given me as tears filled my eyes.

The director shouted out a command, but all I could hear was the harsh rapid pounding of my heart in my ears.

I looked up at Tucker as the music began to play. The sheet sagged low on the woman's back, revealing bare skin. Tucker gripped the handle of the bike with one hand, his other roaming over her flesh as he sang into her ear.

My heart is full and my door's always open You can come anytime you want I felt my knees grow weak. It was a song he had often sung to me, and my knees began to give out from under me.

I wasn't cut out for this. And suddenly I felt that all-too-familiar feeling, that heavy urgent need to flee. Eric slipped his arm around my waist and held me up against his side, his fingers lightly rubbing over my hip.

"Don't run. These girls can smell fear like sharks. If you leave, they will see it as an invitation to go in for the kill."

"I don't think I can watch this."

"It's all a show. I know he thinks I hate him, and sometimes I do." He chuckled softly. "But I consider you a friend. Tucker wouldn't hurt you."

I sighed, leaning over to give Eric a hug as Tucker glanced at us. I gave him a weak smile, but he didn't return it.

"I think he regrets me being here now."

"He just doesn't want you to be upset. He didn't expect this today. It was supposed to be band shots. I told Donna to call him to let him know, and she said she would." Our eyes met, and we both let out a laugh.

"Well, I think I know why that call was never made."

I was staring at Eric, letting my jealousy start to melt away when I was yanked away harshly, tripping over my own feet and falling back on the hard concrete floor. It took a moment for me to realize what had happened. Tucker's fist swung at Eric as he wrapped his arms around Tucker's waist, pulling him down to the ground. I felt myself scream, the sound coming out ear-piercingly loud.

"Why the f.u.c.k are you touching my girl?" Tucker yelled as he gained the upper hand and swung at Eric.

"s.h.i.t man, we're friends!" Eric yelled back as he shoved against Tucker's chest.

"She is nothing to you." Another blow from Tucker hit Eric in the mouth, causing his head to bounce off the concrete floor with a loud thud. The twins grabbed Tucker by his arms, yanking him hard off Eric who pushed to his feet and charged Tucker. I screamed again, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Both the men's chests were heaving as they struggled to regain composure.

"I want you out," Tucker yelled.

"I was just leaving." Eric spit blood from his mouth at Tucker's feet as he shoved by him and walked past me without looking at me.

"Out of the band!" Tucker's shout froze Eric in his tracks. He spun around, glaring back at my boyfriend as I sat frozen between them. The room was completely silent apart from the sound of Tucker's rough breathing.

"You don't mean that," Eric said, no longer shouting, and I could see the hurt in his eyes.

"I do."

Eric glanced down at me, and I knew he was ready to lose it. He had nowhere else to go, and no matter how he had acted in the past, this band was his family. His eyes widened as he realized I had been knocked down during the scuffle, and his gaze turned murderous.

Tucker watched and laughed sardonically as he pulled out of Chris's and Terry's grip, equally p.i.s.sed off, and I couldn't fathom why.

"She can go with you." He turned and stalked off to the dressing-room door, slamming it, causing the sound to echo throughout the cavernous s.p.a.ce. I looked at all of the people who stood around me, sadness in some eyes and satisfaction in others. Tears blurred my vision, and I felt the heavy sobs begging to rip from my chest.

Eric sank down next to me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, and I shook my head no, but it was a lie. Physically I was fine, but my heart had been stomped and ripped from my chest. I felt like I was dying, and I wished someone would put me out of my misery. He held out his hand to me, softness in his eyes. "Come on."

I slipped my hand in his, letting him pull me from the ground as I groaned. My tailbone throbbed, and I knew my lower back would be bruised. Eric led me toward the exit.

"Don't look back," he whispered, and I nodded, not having any intention of looking at any of those people. I fought the urge to run, but I wasn't even sure I could with the pain in my back.

As we stepped out into the warm night air, the first sob ripped through me. Eric squeezed my hand tighter and continued to pull me away from the building.

"Not here."

I let him guide me as my mind swirled. Tucker was mad at me? I was the one watching my boyfriend practically have s.e.x on top of a motorcycle. Eric had only tried to comfort me and rea.s.sure me that Tucker loved me.

"I don't know what just happened."

"I do. I'm sorry, Ca.s.s. This is my fault. I never should have even gone over there. . . ."

"No." I stopped, pulling my hand free from his. "I can talk to whomever I want. He should trust me."

"It's not you he doesn't trust." Eric laughed sadly.

"You never did anything to him. You don't deserve to be treated like an enemy."

Eric scratched the back of his head as he stared down at his shoes.

"I deserve it." Sadness marred his voice.

I rolled my eyes, hating that he was slipping back into his anger and depression.

"No, you don't. So you're kind of an a.s.shole sometimes. What he just did was no better than anything you've done."

Eric laughed and shook his head as his eyes met mine.

"Of course you wouldn't know."

"Know what?"

"Tucker and I have a complicated past."

"Define *complicated,' because my past is as complicated as they come."

"Not here." He glanced around the parking lot before spotting something off in the distance. "Come on." He grabbed my hand again and pulled me across the expansive maze of parking lots.

My legs were quaking, and my back was throbbing as we reached a little dive bar called Corner Pocket. I followed Eric inside as my mind raced, wondering what he was going to tell me. He wasn't the type to open up, so I knew whatever it was, it was a big step for him.

He didn't say anything as he scanned the tiny bar. He walked up to the counter and ordered us two shots of Jack Daniel's and a c.o.ke for me. I waited as the bartender filled his order, and I looked around at the smattering of patrons. I noticed a jukebox off in the corner on the other side of the bar and rounded it to see what kind of music they had. I wanted to listen to something sad, something that reflected the way I felt inside. Hollow, hurting.

Suddenly I felt so lost. I had no idea what was going on with my life anymore. Everything seemed to have fallen into place a few days ago, and just that quickly it had all disappeared out from under me. It was my biggest fear. After my father left when I was younger, I was always afraid of being alone. That was one of the reasons I couldn't leave Jax. Anything felt better than being alone. And now I was facing that reality once again.

"Here." I jumped as Eric's hot breath blew over the back of my neck, startling me. He reached around me holding a shot gla.s.s.

I took it and let the liquid burn fire down my throat. He handed me the soda with a smirk, and I slurped it down, grateful he had gotten me a chaser. I wiped the back of my hand over my lips as I took in a deep breath.

"You almost drink like a rock star." He laughed, but his eyes were sad.

"You wanted to talk?" I asked as I looked over the tables.

"You want some music?" He dug in his pockets and pulled out quarters. "I asked the bartender for change."

"Thanks." I smiled back, even though happiness was the last emotion I felt. I turned back to the jukebox and picked a few old country songs I remembered from childhood. No one did sadness like country crooners.

We made our way to a small table in the corner. Eric folded his hands together and looked down at his fingers, not saying anything. I didn't want to pressure him, knowing he probably felt as bad as I did after being kicked out of the band.

"He didn't mean it," I said, hoping I didn't need to elaborate and speak Tucker's name.

"Yeah, he did." Eric looked up, his eyes reflecting the pain in mine. The warmth of the alcohol began to warm my body, and I relaxed in my seat.

"I don't care about me, but you getting hurt is crossing a line."

"I'm used to it." I knew how bad that sounded, and I wished I could take it back.

"I know he didn't mean to knock you down." His jaw clenched. "But he did, and he deserves to get his a.s.s kicked for it."

"Please, no more fighting." I knew Tucker hadn't meant for me to fall-that wasn't what upset me. Eric nodded, understanding my need to let it settle.

"When I was in high school, I loved life." He smirked at the memory. He held up two fingers and the bartender nodded at him. "I need another drink for this."

"Did you all go to high school together?" I asked as the bartender set two shot gla.s.ses full of amber liquid in front of us.

"No." He took his shot and drank it back, not even grimacing at its harsh taste. I did the same, but my lips puckered, and I took another drink from my soda.

"I went to Radley High, home of the Rockets. I was on the football team and everything."

"I can't picture that."

He laughed.

"A lot has changed since then."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"I had the perfect life, the perfect girlfriend. She was . . ." He didn't finish his thought.

"What happened?"

"She moved. Broke my heart. First love is a b.i.t.c.h, but we stayed in contact. I loved her. I couldn't let her go. She was my whole world."

"That must have been hard."

"I would have done anything for her." He smiled, his eyes glazing over as he held up his fingers again to the bartender. "We only lived twenty minutes away from each other, but when you aren't old enough to drive, it might as well be a million miles. Living in different school districts made it worse. We tried to see each other on the weekends whenever we could. Eventually our parents got sick of driving us. My mom tried to tell me it was a good thing. I could focus on my future." He shook his head and leaned on the table. "She was my f.u.c.king future." The bartender sat down our drinks, and Eric took his like it was water.

I swallowed hard, preparing myself to down the drink.

"Don't think about it. Just do it."

I did, and the shot went easily down now that I was beginning to feel the effects of the others. Unfortunately, being intoxicated only magnified the sadness in my gut. I didn't want to think about Tucker.

"You drifted apart?"

"Nah, absence makes the heart grow fonder. I called her constantly, I wrote her songs."

"You had it bad." We both laughed as the song switched and a new one began to play. Eric listened as the singer began to tell of her own heartbreak.

"When my brother died . . ." His jaw muscles jumped under his skin, and I knew it was hurting him to talk about it. My eyes lingered on his swollen busted lip. Regardless of their issues, I knew Eric saw Tucker and the others as his brothers . . . and he had just lost them as well. "I went crazy. I wouldn't talk to anyone. I only wanted her. I stole my mother's car. I had my permit at the time, even though I was seventeen. That's another story."

"I still don't have my license," I confessed, and Eric let out a guttural laugh. I smiled, letting the alcohol sway my mood.

"Why the h.e.l.l not?"

"I never had a car." I shrugged. "Tucker doesn't really have time to teach me. Not that I could drive that stupid bike."

He laughed, but I stared down at my soda, hoping I could keep from crying.

"I can teach you," he said, his tone level and serious.

"Thanks . . . but you don't have a car either."

"Technicality. You need to learn to drive. You need to be independent."

"Huh . . . I never really thought about it. So when did you get your license?"

He frowned and adjusted in his seat.

"I didn't."

It was my turn to laugh.

"Keep it down. You're going to ruin my street cred." He rolled his eyes. I signaled to the bartender, and Eric c.o.c.ked his eyebrow at me.

"You're not the only one who wants to numb the pain." I shrugged and took a sip of my soda.