Rise (Rock God 1)

Nuke frowns. “You don’t think, Gia. You just go after what you want.” He rubs the back of his neck as if I’m giving him a headache.

“Jesus.” He laughs, then shakes his head, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Am I gonna have to defend your honor? Because you poked the beast, and I don’t mean Rafe.” He motions his head toward Rhys’s door. “Granger is the fucking beast, babe. He’s everything you should have stayed away from.” He lights up and inhales.

I take the cigarette from him. I try not to smoke much since I quit a couple months ago, but I need one right now.

“No, you already defended my honor earlier.” I grin up at him and allow myself to look at the room. The suite is impressive, bigger than most houses. All white walls with dark native wood. Gorgeous purple orchids surrounded by succulents sit on the tables.

“What the hell?” I look up at the tall ceilings. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” I shake my head, suddenly tired, as I close my stinging eyes against the morning sun.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

I sigh and cock my head looking at him. “You’re a good friend, Nuke.”

“Yeah, I am.” He smirks, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and putting it out in his half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“So…” He leans against the back of the couch and looks at me. “What are you gonna do, Gia Fontaine?”

I inhale and drop my cigarette in the bottle, then look at him as I twist my wet hair back in a low bun. “I’m gonna win.”

GIA

Past – Eighteen years old

Scottsdale, Arizona

“Gia, meet me in half an hour at my room,” Nuke yells across the lobby. I roll my eyes at him as I pass. He bursts out laughing. A long line of women has formed in front of him, all of them waiting to be in his arms. He pulls a random one and holds her close.

I’m hungover, depressed, and so tired I can barely wave at him. Instead, I push the elevator button.

“Rookie. Come on.” He laughs at the face I give him. “If you change your mind, you know where—”

“I won’t,” I grumble. Sighing, I close my eyes and wait for the elevator. I’m not even fazed anymore by all the excited squeals and screams that follow the band everywhere.

I need a quick shower and sleep. After the awful events with Rhys two days ago, I’ve either been drunk or traveling. This morning I had to get up at 5:00 a.m. to shoot Cash working out. Rafe seems determined to make my life hell, and Rhys… I bite my lower lip, trying not to think about him. The doors to the elevator slide open and I wait for the five screaming women to get out of my way, pretending I didn’t hear one of them talking about Rhys’s pierced penis.

After I glance down at my keycard to check the room number, I push the button and watch the doors glide shut, snorting in disgust.

Two days.

For some stupid reason I allowed Nuke to get me drunk, and to be honest, I haven’t been sober since.

Until now, and I feel like shit. But if I’m ever going to make this right with Rhys, I need to be at least somewhat on my game. The elevator dings, and I feel like I’m ninety as I drag my ass off the wall and pull my bag to the room.

I seriously don’t know how everybody functions on tour. I’ve been here less than seventy-two hours and I’m about to collapse.

Opening the door, I relish the cool air in the room. Arizona weather is pretty much like California, so it’s sunny even though it’s December. Dumping all my stuff on the queen bed, I make my way straight to the shower. I can barely keep my eyes open as I scrub myself with the delicious-smelling coconut and vanilla gel. The shampoo is so good, I make a mental note to grab as many of them as possible.

Stepping out, I wrap a towel around me. I’m thinking room service. Can I order dinner this early? I’d love a hamburger with fries.

I’m about to pick up the phone when a knock on the door makes my heart leap to my throat.

“Shit.” I look down at myself. Having tossed the towel seconds ago, I’m naked. And my suitcase is still shut. Maybe if I don’t respond, they’ll go away.

A louder pound on the door is my answer. “Damn it.” I spin around and throw open the closet for a robe.

“What?” I snap as I peek out the door, my eyes narrowing on a tall, skinny woman dressed in expensive clothes.

“Granger wants to see you now,” she snips. Heat floods me for numerous reasons. One, she said the magic word, Granger. And two, how dare he send a fucking whore to get me, like he’s some kind of… king, god, rock star. Whatever, I refuse to participate.