Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6) (17 page)

I
look around, silently taking a head count of everyone on board. Hunter has
already taken command of his ugly ass recliner and the remote control. Aiden
and Grayson are setting up the Scrabble board at the table with Mike and Jared
arguing over what crazy shit the losers should have to do. Chase and Ireland
are sitting side by side on the couch, talking in hushed voices.

Maneuvering
over Hunter’s outstretched legs, I sit on the open cushion beside Chase.
“Where’s Cam?” I ask, looking around for her, but see her nowhere.

“Said
she was feeling a little dizzy and sick to her stomach,” Chase says on an
exhale. “Went to lie down in back to see if it passes.”

“Girls,”
Grayson says, angling his body in the booth seat of the table to look our way.
“Please don’t tell me Aiden and I have to play alone. Keep it interesting, will
ya?”

Ireland
immediately pushes to her feet, “I’m in.” Grabbing Chase’s arm, she yanks her
up. “Let’s see if we can show these boys the definition of X-rated.”

“Oh!”
Chase squeals, sliding into the seat. “Chicks versus dicks. Pass the tiles and
place your bets. This shit is about to get real.”

Baconfest Incident
Report

Ireland

The
last two days have been a shit fest. I have done everything in my power to
avoid Dominick, but it’s not easy. He is always around.

Now,
we’re back on the bus and he is my designated security detail.

After
crying every tear I had in me, and then some, I woke up the next morning with
clarity. After everything he has put me through, for all the pain of eight
years’ worth of heartbreak, it’s his turn to pay.

Drawing
my tiles, I bite my top lip as I arrange them on my little wooden rack. I never
thought in a million years I would actually enjoy playing some stupid board
game like Scrabble, but Shaft does it up right. The dirtier the word, the
better, and the wagers are always legendary.

“L-I-C-K,”
I say, naming each letter as I place it on the board. “Lick,” I purr, feeling
Dominick’s eyes on me.

“Good
for eight,” Jared says while Mike writes the score on the little dry erase
board on the fridge below ‘Chicks’.

“You’re
up, Dicks,” Mike laughs, leaning against the counter.

“Hey,”
Hunter calls out, still flipping through the channels on the flat screen
mounted to the wall. “What’s the wager?”

“If
we win,” I say, grinning big. “Every single one of you guys have to dress up
like Disney princesses and sing karaoke with Jasmine when we get home.” Leaning
on my elbows, I smile wider. “Make-up and all. On video.”

“And
if we win,” Gray challenges, scrubbing his chin.

“None
of you ladies can take the afternoon off for ‘retail therapy’,” Aiden
interrupts him, grinning smugly. “The rest of the tour.”

“Hey,”
Chase says, shocked. “No, fuckin’ way.”

“Hell
yeah,” Gray agrees. “This could be my saving grace from a jealous shopping trip
deprived wife.”

“Done,”
I say, waving her off. Looking at her, I wink. “This is in the bag, girl. Just
like your next pair of designer heels will be.”

***

By
the time it is dark outside and the last of the tiles have been drawn it is
neck and neck. Hunter has left the sanctity of his recliner to cram his ass
into the tiny kitchenette space to watch the last round play out.

“Time
to wrap it up,” Aiden says, cracking his knuckles. “Eleven minutes and I’ll be
sitting in a booth shovelin’ down boneless wings by the handful.”

Grabbing
four of my tiles, I arrange them in order with the tiles I’m borrowing from
words already down. All eyes go to the board before everyone laughs. “Flaccid?”
Hunter asks, gripping onto the counter and bending at the waist as he roars
with laughter. “The only female on this bus who Dominick ever laid a finger on
and she throws down the word flaccid!” He falls to his knees, clinging to
Mike’s pants leg before grabbing onto the table and meeting my eyes. Tears
stream down his face, as he attempts to catch his breath. “I love you,
seriously. The love,” he says, his chest heaving, raising his hand as far up
above his head as he can. “So much. I just. It’s great.” Falling to his ass, he
leans back against the counter and flicks his wrist. “Okay, boys, lay it down
hard.”

Aiden
grabs his tiles, arranging them around before leaning back satisfied with
himself. “That blank tile is another ‘M’,’ he says, smiling.

“R-I-M-M-I-N-G,”
Mike says, then looks again to make sure he read that right. “Rimming? Really?”

“Mhm,”
he replies, crossing his arms behind his head.

“It’s
actually a very intimate, very erotic act,” Cam says from behind us, making us
jump. She yawns. “Sorry for disappearing guys, I felt horrible.”

“Feel
better, Baby?” Aiden asks, his eyes going straight to her and filling with
concern. “Can’t have you coming down with something.”

“I’m
fine now, actually,” she says, stepping over and sitting on the edge of the
couch. “Hungry.”

“Okay,”
Mike says, tossing down the marker. “Dicks, you have fought hard, so hard,” he
chuckles, shaking his head at his own damn joke. As usual, Mike is the funniest
man in the room. To himself. “Chicks, as the fairer sex tends to do, you have
brought us all to our knees with your dirty minds and fantastic banter. Final
score is: 143 Dicks. 146 Chicks.”

“Goddamn
it,” Aiden growls, slamming his fist down on the table. “Give me that fuckin’
board and marker. You’ve added this shit wrong or somethin’.”

“Oh,
Aiden,” Cam giggles. “Always such a sore—”

“Sore
is a term you’ll be very familiar with, my love, if you finish that sentence,”
he fires back with a wink and an evil smirk.

Cam
shivers, her face reddens in a blush. The heat and tension filling the room all
around us. My eyes meet Dominick’s, watching me. I expect him to look away, but
he doesn’t. His eyes rake over me as the bus stops and I push to my feet.

I
haven’t said five words to him since the other day. The silence between us
drives me crazy, but what is there to say?

As
usual, the moment the bus comes to a stop, everyone is ready to bail out the
door like evacuating a burning building. Shoving in front of me, Hunter shouts
something about taking the bacon hostage. His shoulder slams into me, sending
me off balance and headed face first for the pavement.

“Shit!”

Everything
spins in slow motion as I prepare to make an imprint on the parking lot of some
truck stop in Kentucky. Just as I contemplate the gallons of concealer it will
take to hide the tragedy that will be my face, two thick arms grab me around
the middle, pulling me forward into a hard gray and red flannel covered chest.
Shifting the hair from my face, I stare up at my savior from a busted up face.
Blinking rapidly, I stare up into deep green eyes and a smile all wrapped up
with a dark brown beard to match.

“Um
thanks,” I say, steadying myself by grabbing his forearms. “Uh…”

“Anytime,
Darlin’,” he replies with a sexy southern drawl. “My name’s Aaron.”

Shit.
That’s right. He’s the new bus driver…

“Are
you okay?” Dominick asks, rushing up to us and grabbing me. Spinning me in his
arms, he looks me up and down. “Hunter, you fuckin’ moron. There’s no fire.”

“I’m
fine, Mack,” I say, shaking free of his hold.

Dominick’s
eyes harden. Turning his attention to Aaron, he pulls me into his side.
“Thanks, man. I’ll take it from here.”

What
the fuck is this? If he whips out his cock and pees on me to mark his
territory, I’m going to douse it in gasoline and have myself a wienie roast
right here in the parking lot.

If
he is mad, jealous, or just plain having his time of the month and needs to be
a bitch, I am really not certain. But, I kind of like it. After years of him
not giving one shit about what he put me through and, suddenly, I have his
undivided attention and it feels pretty damn good. Though, who knows what is
going on in his head. For all I know he could just be pissy he wasn’t there to
catch me himself and be the hero. If that’s the case then, whatever. The shoe
is on the other foot for once and I really love the fit.

“You
know what?” I say, shoving him away again. “I’m good; I’ll take it from here.”
Walking over to Aaron, I smile at him. “Aaron, I’m Ireland. How about I buy you
dinner. It’s not every day a man steps in and stops me from being hurt,” I say,
glancing at Dominick to make sure the dig hit where it was supposed to.

Aaron
smiles, holding out his arm for me to wrap my around. “Why thank you, Darlin’,”
he says, “I’d love the conversation. Sure got lonely up there, listenin’ to
y’all have so much fun in back.”

Catching
Dominick’s face as he holds the door open for us, the scowl he is wearing is
just enough proof to have me smiling from ear to ear as Aaron and I walk into
the diner and grab seats beside Cam and Aiden.

“Sorry
I tried to kill you, Ireland,” Hunter says, apologetically sitting at the next
table over from us. “There’s a billboard out there that says Baconfest. I got a
little excited.”

“No
harm,” I wave him off. “No foul. I’m sure it’s not the first incident report at
Baconfest.”

“Touche,”
he agrees, nodding his head.

Dominick
takes a seat beside Hunter, while a brunette with ‘Asli’ written on her name
tag takes our drink orders. His eyes are fixed on me. I can feel the heat of
his stare burning into my skin, but I don’t dare look over his way. Instead, I
focus my attention on Aaron while he tells me all about growing up on a ranch
in Texas.

Frontman Advisory
Panel

Mack

Drinking
my soda, I stare down the bearded knight in flannel as he openly flirts with
Ireland. His country accent and sweet, southern demeanor has her hanging onto
every word he says, as if he’s a shiny new toy.

This
isn’t going to work for me.

“Down
boy,” Hunter says, elbowing me. “We didn’t pack your muzzle.”

“Every
time he touches her, or she laughs at one of his stupid jokes, I want to punch
him in the throat.”

“Yeah,”
he laughs, “I been there. Want my advice?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m
not holding groupie auditions to fuck her out of my system,” I say, honestly,
rolling my eyes.

“Nah.”
Hunter shakes his head, studying Ireland as she sits at the next table. “It’s
gone way beyond that now. Not even a buffet of anal lovin’ fuck sluts can help
you now that she’s gotten in here,” he says, slapping my chest.

“Okay,
mister know-it-all,” I say, glaring at him. “What would you do if you were me?”

“Well,
let’s see,” he says, sizing me up. “First, I’d be sure to burn that stupid
fucking shirt.”

“Never
mind,” I say, fixing my eyes on her again. “Forget I asked you shit. I forgot
you can’t be serious.”

“Sorry,
okay? Sometimes, I just can’t help myself,” he says, reaching over and pinching
my cheek. “You make it so damn easy to get you all fired up.” Looking over at
Chase across the table, he smiles. “You know, man, sometimes, you gotta truly
fuck it all up before you realize what you’d be givin’ up.” Reaching over, he
covers her hand with his and squeezes. Chase’s eyes soften as she returns his
smile. “She sees somethin’ when she looks at me that I’ll never be,” he says,
as a tear rolls down her cheek. “But, I’ll give all I have, until I take my
last breath, hoping that I can be even a fraction of what she deserves. My
advice is swallow your pride and fight for your girl.”

“Oh,
honey,” Chase sniffles with a laugh. “You really should write a book.”

“Chase!”
Cam shouts as she and Ireland stand to their feet. “We’re going to the ladies.”

“Why
is it that when one woman has to pee, they all have to?” Hunter asks Chase when
she stands and grabs her bag without hesitation.

“Because,”
she says, bending down and kissing his cheek. “That’s where we practice kissing
and have pillow fights in our underwear.”

“Your
cruelty hurts.” Hunter clutches his chest. “You can’t toy with a man about shit
like that, Tiger Lily. It sets expectations that can never be met with anything
other than sad, bitter, disappointment when he sneaks a glimpse inside as a
woman comes or goes and sees no girl on girl action.”

“Pervert,”
she sighs, slapping his arm as she passes.

“Well,
no matter what changes,” he smirks, slapping her ass playfully. “That’ll stay
the same.”

My
eyes stay on the girls until they disappear behind the ladies’ room door. “So,
Aaron,” Hunter shouts, interrupting the conversation Aiden and he are having
about a new zombie movie. “You really grew up on a farm and shit?”

“Uh,
yeah. Sure did,” Aaron answers, turning to glance over our way. “Pop is the
third generation to run the Cheyenne Prairie Ranch. It’s more than a farm, though,”
he corrects him. “It’s a legacy. Seventy thousand acres of history passed down
through the hands of my mother’s side of the family. Over half of what we do is
self-sustaining and goes right back into the local community. Mama bakes and
has a little shop on the edge of the property; my sister makes the best
preserves in three counties. Best eatin’ you’ll ever do. That’s actually how
she met Pop. He stopped in, bought a slice of her caramel apple pie, thirty-eight
years ago, and never left. Grandad put him to work and the rest is a love story
that I’ll tell my kids one day.”

“Oh,
he’s good,” Hunter mutters, lifting his lemonade to his lips. Downing half the
glass, he shakes his head. “Next piece of advice from the Frontman Advisory
Panel,” he says, arching a brow at me. “Speed up your game plan. He keeps
talkin’ and Ireland will be blowin’ him under the table before the waitress
brings the check.”

Two
waitresses head our way carrying trays weighted down with plates of food. My
eyes go to the still closed bathroom door. Plates are handed out, arranged
around the tables, while drinks are refilled. The guys dig in, obviously used
to the women disappearing to the bathroom for this long. However, I’m not. I
don’t fucking like it at all. I don’t like her being out of my sight. Pushing
to my feet, I nod at Jared and Mike before heading across the diner to see what
is keeping the girls.

Listening
outside the door, I can hear muffled female chatter, but nothing I can make
out. Call me nosy, but every man really does want to know what women do in
there for so long.

We
know it doesn’t take that long to pee.

“Food’s
here, ladies,” I yell, tapping on the door. “Let’s eat so we can get back on
the road.”

Hunter’s
words repeat in my head. The insecurities that I have always buried deep, he
was all too eager to admit to me just now. He doesn’t feel worthy of Chase,
doesn’t understand the things she sees in him, but yet, here they are. Happy,
in love. If anyone has had his share of fuck ups in life, it’s Hunter
Chesterfield. That is the main reason I bonded with Hunter so quickly when I
was brought on here by the label. We are a lot alike, using our humor and charm
to avoid the tough shit and keep it light. Jokes and pranks quickly became my
escape from reality. It gave me something to fill the void of what I knew I
couldn’t have.

The
chaos of our very fast-paced life makes it very easy to get lost in everything
around you. Now, though, there is no ignoring the truth. I need her. Whether I
deserve her or not, doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not a choice, it’s necessity.

The
bathroom door swings open, the three girls slamming into me, all gasping in
surprise. “Sorry,” I say, taking a step back. “Didn’t want your food to get
cold.”

Chase
and Cam thank me for the heads up, quickly stepping by me to head back to the
tables. Bracing my arm on the wall, I stop Ireland from following. Closing her
eyes, she blows out a breath. Her lips moving slowly as she counts to ten.
Turning her body, she presses her back to the wall before meeting my eyes.
“What?” she asks, a bit of the bite that I have missed, back in her voice. “Do
I not get to eat now?”

“I
can’t stand us like this,” I say, stepping closer. “Tell me what to do.” Unable
to help myself, I brush her jaw with the back of my other hand, needing to
touch her, desperate for the connection.

“No,”
she whispers, turning her cheek away. “There is no us.”

Cupping
her jaw, I brush my thumb over her cheek, catching a tear as it spills down.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Baby. Eight years ago, you were the first woman to
ever look at me like I was worth a damn. I fucked that up because I was a
stupid kid who thought he knew best. Anyone you’ve been with since, you’ve
secretly wished was me. Each one left you only feeling more and more empty
inside. I hurt you. Cut you deep, and I’d do anything to change that, but I
can’t. All I can do is prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning in, I
tip her chin upward, and brush my lips over hers lightly, groaning the second
her taste hits my mouth. My hand slides down her throat, stopping on her chest.
Her heart hammers beneath my fingertips as she looks up at me.

“There
is no us,” she repeats, sounding like she is trying to convince herself just as
much as me. “If you want to do something to make things right, you can leave me
alone. You can let me go and we can go back to hating each other.”

“I
can’t,” I say, wanting to pull her in my arms and make her believe me. “And you
can’t say anyone else will ever make you feel the way you feel when I touch
you.”

She
shakes her head. Pushing off the wall, she adjusts her bag, hoisting the straps
back onto her shoulder. “You act like you have a choice, Mack.” The words I
have said, over and over to her, come back to bite me in the ass in more ways
than one.

Knowing
that I can’t stop her without making a scene, I step back and let her pass, but
not without letting her know one thing. “Ireland, I’ve never had a choice. It’s
always been you; I’m done denying that. You’re the only choice.”

Her
hand presses against her chest, as she breathes. I wait, putting all my hope
into her saying something, anything, but she doesn’t. Instead, she turns her
back and heads back to the table without another word. She takes her seat
beside Aaron. He smiles at her, and my blood boils. His eyes go straight to her
tits, eyeing her like she should be laid out on his plate and not the turkey
club he ordered.

Motherfucker.

Scrubbing
a hand over my face, I resist the urge to bash his face in for now, telling
myself that I’m getting through to her. I turn for the table, a flash of white and
blue catching my eye from the floor. Bending down, I grab the little white
piece of plastic with a blue lid covering one end. My eyes widen when I realize
what it is.

A
pregnancy test.

And
according to the little guide on the side, the two lines staring me in the face
mean it’s a positive pregnancy test.

Shoving
the damn thing in my back pocket, my eyes go to the people who are not just my
friends, but my family. I glance at each of the three women as they sit there
eating. One of which is having a baby, but not one of them is giving anything
away. My mind begins to go wild with the possibilities, but there is really
only one question.

Who’s
the mommy?

***

“Thanks
for helpin’ me get everything in place for Jasmine,” Hunter says, slapping me
on the back as we make our way up to the staging area where everyone else is
hanging out before the show starts.

After
dinner, our first night away, I called to check in with Henry and got bad news.
Jazzie had taken to her room with Bits and refused to leave it. Even for
cookies. This sent Hunter and I into overdrive. For the last few days, he and I
have been working on a little something guaranteed to put a smile on her face.
Between knowing we had a sad kid, the state of things with Ireland, the
scandalous pregnancy test that I have yet to mention to anyone, and Aaron, the
bearded bastard, you could say I have had my hands full.

I
have begun narrowing down my potential baby baking suspect. Out of the
potential five women, two aren’t even here, so they were eliminated quickly.
Ireland, I immediately cross off my list of suspects because the idea of any
other man putting his dick in her makes me want to buy semi-automatic weapons
and I can’t exactly go to prison today. Someone getting her pregnant? Just the
idea of it makes my chest ache. That only leaves Chase and Camaron.

Things
with Ireland and I haven’t changed much. She keeps herself busy. If she isn’t
chatting with the girls, or working on music with the guys, she is spending
time with Aaron. You know, anything that involves ignoring me or pissing me off.
She knows, all too well, I can’t stand that prick, so she has made him her new
best friend.

I
am not going anywhere and I have made that very clear. Though I am giving her
space to process what I have said. It also puts some room between her right
hook and my face.

Eventually,
it will all be worth it. Right?

“Something
good needed to come out of this shitty day,” I say, checking the time and
shoving my phone back in my pocket.

Everything
has gone wrong, each step a constant leap of faith and strain on my sanity. The
road crew managed to damage one of the big speakers, along with one of them
putting a huge crack in one of the pieces to Aiden’s kit. Which they kept from
us until this morning before the band is scheduled to do their sound check.

Aiden
rightly lost his shit and nearly beat a roadie named Austin to death with his
bare hands. This clusterfuck of a situation meant Camaron and I spending an hour
on the phone trying to find replacements. Putting the band over two hours
behind by the time everything was said and done and Aiden on the warpath for
having his iron clad schedule broken.

“Damn
straight,” Hunter whoops. “Though watchin’ Aiden lose his shit always puts a
smile on my face. Don’t get crazy Aiden often now that Cam can reel him in so
easy.”

“Of
course I’ve hit it more than once. That cute little bassist can’t get enough of
me, man,” the unmistakable sound of Aaron’s voice echoes through the hall
causing the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck. “Girl sucks cock like
she’s tryin’ to strip the bark off a tree. No doubt I’ll be gettin’ myself an
eight second ride later on tonight after the show.”

Then
silence.

“Is
that...” Hunter asks after a minute, but I stop him before he can finish.

“Sounds
like he’s on the phone,” I seethe, ready to tear the bearded bastard limb from
limb.

Rounding
the corner, my eyes land on the bearded bastard. “Eight seconds? Huh?” I ask,
making him jump like a little bitch. He whips around to face us, eyes going
wide. “If you can’t hold on any longer than that, Man, it’s a waste of her
time.”