Fractured Rock Read online

  Tate is an incredible songwriter, and not half bad when it comes to singing either. The four of them are so talented and, whether she had the family connection or not, she would be a fan.

  And being related to Tate has its advantages - especially at times like this. She had backstage access of course, but was also given a private car, and a suite in a rather posh hotel.

  Bria steps into the elevator and pushes the button for the eighth floor. Her boyfriend, Robbie left the concert early because he’d gotten a headache. He hadn’t been feeling well all day, even leaving dinner with the band early. She can’t remember him ever complaining of a headache before, but the last few days had been busy. Maybe he was a little dehydrated after all the traveling and running around town.

  Even though Shane and Tate had tried to scare Robbie away when she first introduced them the Christmas before last, he’d stuck around for the last year. When Tate had overdosed a few weeks later she fully expected Robbie to call it a day and run. But he didn’t. Instead he was there for her, helping her process what was going on with her brother.

  She dreads to think what it would have been like if he wasn’t in her life at that moment. Her parents and Shane were so focused on Tate, she felt a little alone. Robbie had helped her feel better. He was there for her to cry on or talk to, day or night.

  The other guys in the band had been amazing too. What happened with Tate hit all of them, especially Gregg. Seeing his best friend like that had been hard on him. There were many days he’d come back from visiting Tate in rehab and they’d go for walks, or just sit and take comfort from each other’s company.

  Bria stops outside her suite and pauses as she pushes those memories to the back of her mind again. It didn’t do any good to think about it. Nothing was going to change or improve by dwelling on what Tate did and how it impacted their family.

  Not that she blames him for reacting the way he did. Their cousin had driven Tate to the edge and watched as he fell over. All their lives changed when Dara targeted Tate and did everything he could to destroy him. As much as she wishes otherwise, some things can’t be repaired no matter how much you want it.

  Like her relationship with Tate. Things are still a little off between them. Bria doesn’t know if he can feel it too, but it’s obvious to her She hates the distance between them. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about it. There was enough to deal with already without throwing her own drama into the mix.

  Bria pushes the door open and drops her bag on the couch in the living room. The last thing she wants to do is wake Robbie if he’s getting some relief from his headache, so she creeps towards the bedroom and slowly opens the double doors.

  Her brain takes a little too long to process what she’s seeing. Robbie is in bed all right, but he’s naked. And he’s not alone.

  2

  Gregg takes the soft drink from the counter and sips it, already wishing he’d just gone back to his hotel room and had something a lot stronger to drink there alone. He’s not really in the mood for company. Usually, he’s all for going out and having a laugh, but since Christmas he’s heading more towards the miserable git camp. Every single time he thinks about Bria he goes all ‘woe is me’ which isn’t like him at all.

  It’s the last performance they’ll be giving for a few weeks so he can take it easy and keep his misery to himself in the privacy of his house. Tate is heading to Canada first thing in the morning to spend some time with his older brother, Shane. After the mess of the last few months, Tate and Chloe needed a break away from the stress and the drama. It would also do him good to have a bit of time alone with his girlfriend. They hadn’t exactly had an uneventful time together so far.

  When Dillon suggested going out for food after the show, Gregg assumed they’d be screaming over ear-splitting music and be squashed into the corner of a club while fans swarmed them as they ate packets of crisps. The backstreet rustic burger joint is nothing like that. The owner had locked down the restaurant for the night giving them the place to themselves. Dillon had no doubt compensated him for his trouble and Gregg couldn’t be more grateful. Being surrounded with screaming fans while you tried to eat was always a bit off-putting.

  They had privacy, an old-fashioned jukebox, and a kitchen with a competent chef at their disposal. This place is definitely going down as one of Dillon’s better ideas

  The hulking forms of their security personnel, Liam, Andy, Jason, and Ciaran, seem to fill the far corner as they watch highlights from a rugby match on their phones.

  After the events in August when Tate’s bat-shit-crazy cousin kidnapped him, Ellen and the rest of the band’s management team had put their foot down. Or feet down. Whatever. The decision had been made that the band wouldn’t be out in public without security. Obviously, Tate was less than keen about the idea of a babysitter, but even Chloe agreed it would be a good idea, so he eventually gave up arguing.

  The security guys are decent enough and intimidating as hell. Ciaran has been assigned to Gregg, Liam to Tate, Andy to Luke, and Jason has the pleasure of looking after Dillon. Lucky him! Keeping track of Dillon is proving to be a full-time job. Dillon was nearly as keen as Tate about it, but they were told to shut up and get used to it.

  Gregg grunts when he’s elbowed in the ribs. He glares over at Tate, grinning at him from the stool next to him.

  ‘You okay?’

  Gregg smiles but Tate isn’t fooled.

  ‘That was a shite attempt. I’m serious, mate. You’ve been quiet since the Christmas party. Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’m grand, Tate. Really. So, you all set for your holiday?’

  ‘You seriously think that’s going to work on me? I created that move. C’mon. There’s something up. Talk to me.’

  ‘I’m just tired. The last few months have been full on. We all need a break. Stop worrying about me. Your head should be on you.’

  Gregg winces as Tate’s face drops. ‘I’ve got a therapist and sponsor keeping an eye on my head. I’m fine so don’t throw that one at me. Just because I fucked up doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you.’ Tate pushes his glass away and turns the ring on his thumb, a clear sign he’s not thrilled about something.

  ‘My folks and Chloe do the same thing. You all have to stop treating me differently. I’m not going to relapse because you talk to me about your problems.’ He holds up his glass of juice and smiles. ‘I’m on track. It’s you I’m worried about.’ Tate nods to the glass of soft drink in front of Gregg. ‘How many of those have you had? Your blood sugar levels okay?’

  ‘Yes, Dad. They went a bit off kilter after the show, but they always do. I’m grand.’ He pushes the medic alert bracelet up his sleeve like hiding it will excuse the fact Tate’s probably right. The last thing he needs to do is start his time off by screwing with his diabetes by overdosing on soft drinks.

  Tate leans on the counter and examines him in a way that only Tate can. His friend had mastered the art of talking without actually talking.

  ‘Jeez. Okay, look I guess I’m just feeling a little... single.’

  Tate nods slowly then takes a drink of juice. ‘Right.’

  ‘Listen, I’m not looking for you to give me a hug or whatever. You asked and I told you. Done. Finished.’

  ‘No, I get what you’re saying. But me being with Chloe doesn’t mean I’m ditching you as a mate. You know that, right?’

  ‘I know, Tate. Really. And I’m so happy for you both. This is my problem. I guess I was expecting women to flock to me now that I’m a hot celebrity and all.’ He pulls a face to let Tate know he was kidding.

  Tate laughs loudly. ‘Oh, they’re flocking. You just don’t see them. You’ve been babysitting me for the last few months, and I appreciate that. I really do. I wouldn’t have gotten through all my shit without you. Hell, I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t stepped in when you did. I’m fine though. It’s time to look after yourself. Go out with the guys. Have fun.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ he says with a mock salutes
causing Tate to glare at him. ‘Sorry. I know what you’re saying. I guess I have been a bit of a dry-shite lately.’

  ‘Wouldn’t have used those words but yeah, you’ve been off.’

  ‘Message received. I’ll give myself a stern talking to.’ And try not to think about your sister the way I’ve been thinking about her.

  ‘Oi. You two joining us or what?’

  Tate scowls at Dillon. ‘We’re coming!’

  Gregg nods towards the table. ‘You go ahead. I’ll be there in a sec.’ Tate squeezes his shoulder then joins the others at the table. The chat with Tate hadn’t really helped him much. It probably would have if not for the Bria part of the problem.

  Now that Tate has Chloe, Gregg is finding himself with more and more time alone. He’s not complaining about the couple. How could he? He’s so fond of Chloe. She saved his best friend and he’ll always be grateful to her for that. When Gregg had collected Tate from rehab last May after his overdose, he honestly thought his mate was gone forever. She’d brought him back from the monstrous pile of shit he’d buried himself under and Gregg can’t remember Tate ever being so happy. It’s great. Really.

  So why does he feel like he’s lost out a little?

  Probably because he’s got fuck all in his own life and he’s feeling sorry for himself.

  Dillon slings his arm around Gregg’s shoulder and shakes him. ‘Cheer the fuck up. What’s got you all gloomy? You look bloody miserable.’

  ‘Cheers for that.’

  Dillon empties his glass then wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. ‘What the hell have you got to be miserable about? Sold out concerts? Topping the charts? Things couldn’t be better. The band is hot property at the moment.’

  ‘I know, okay. I’m just... I don’t know. Tired.’

  ‘Bollocks. You just need a proper night out. How about we check out a club when we’re done here? Tate will be heading back to the hotel in a bit so you can have something stronger.’

  ‘No, seriously Dillon. I’m absolutely not in the mood for a club. Bed sounds better.’

  Dillon sits down in the seat Tate had occupied and drums his fingers on the bar top. ‘No offence mate but I’m not into you that way.’

  ‘Oh ha ha,’ Gregg says dryly.

  ‘This about Chloe?’ Dillon asks, all traces of humour gone from his face.

  ‘Chloe. Why would it be about her?’

  Dillon nods over to the table to Tate and Luke. ‘Tate is spending more time with her which means less with you. Hey, I’m not having a go. It was the same when Luke got together with Pippa. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t just ditch me and disappear, but I saw less of him. Can’t remember the last time I went out alone with him.’

  Gregg stares into his glass and nods. ‘Yeah. I guess it’s going to take time to adjust. I am happy for Tate though.’

  Dillon drapes his arm across Gregg’s shoulders. ‘I get it. You don’t need to explain.’ Dillon signals to the waiter assigned to look after them. ‘Can I get more of those olives?’

  The waiter returns a few minutes later and places the bowl on the counter. Dillon smiles at him. ‘Thanks... sorry, what’s your name?’

  ‘Jordan.’

  ‘Thanks, Jordan.’ Dillon pops an olive in his mouth and leans on the counter as he chews. ‘So, Jordan. You looking after us for the night?’

  He nods. ‘I’m here until you’re done so if you need anything just ask.’

  ‘Is that right? That’s good to know. I will absolutely give you a shout if I need anything.’ Dillon winks at him and the waiter smiles as he goes back into the kitchen. Dillon leans back in the stool to watch him walk away. Gregg elbows him in the ribs nearly sending him to the floor as he momentarily loses his balance. ‘What?’

  ‘Do you ever stop? You were pretty much undressing the guy as he walked away. And what was with the whole ‘I’ll give you a shout if I need anything’ bit? Why do I get the impression you weren’t talking about more olives?’

  ‘I’m free and single mate.’

  ‘Yeah and that depresses the hell out of me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you have both guys and girls to pick from. If you can’t find someone to settle down with, what hope do I have?’

  Dillon turns to face Gregg. ‘Oh so because I’m bisexual that means I have a better chance of finding the elusive Mr. or Mrs. Right to spend the rest of my life with? Doesn’t quite work that way, Gregg. Besides, I’m not ready to settle down just yet. And moping about it won’t help you either. Cheer the fuck up. You won’t be attracting anyone with that sour puss on your face.’

  Dillon squeezes his shoulder then stands up. ‘Well, I’m going to love you and leave you. I’ve just thought of something I need. And no, it’s not olives.’ He chuckles and walks around the counter in the same direction the waiter went.

  Gregg goes back over to the table and sits beside Tate. ‘He is fucking unbelievable, you know that?’

  ‘Who is?’ Tate asks as he chews on a chip.

  ‘Dillon. He’s gone to have a private chat with the waiter so I wouldn’t go clearing your plate too fast. We might not be getting any more food until he’s done.’

  Tate rolls his eyes then looks at his watch. ‘Fuck. I better head back to the hotel anyways.’ He pulls out his phone and frowns at the screen before sliding it back in his pocket.

  ‘Problem?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Bria disappeared with Robbie before the concert ended and she’s not answering my call or texts.’

  ‘Oh yeah, like getting a call from her big brother wouldn’t put a dampener on her romantic evening with her boyfriend,’ Luke says.

  Tate glowers over at Luke. ‘Yeah, and less of the romantic evening shit. I don’t need that image in my head.’ He stands up and pulls on his leather jacket. ‘So, I guess I’ll see you lot in a few weeks.’

  Luke gives him a hug. ‘Have fun.’

  ‘Oh that’s the plan.’

  ‘You want me to grab Dillon?’

  ‘No. Leave him to... well, whatever he’s doing. I’ll give him a call tomorrow when he’s less occupied.’

  Luke sits back down leaving Gregg to walk Tate to the door, shadowed by Liam. They stand in the porch area as they wait for Tate’s car to arrive. Gregg stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shivers. This January seems particularly cold, but at least it’s not raining. He’ll take anything other than rain.

  Tate digs a woolly hat out of his jacket and puts it on. ‘You call me if you need anything.’

  Gregg rolls his eyes. ‘You’re meant to be taking time off. As in totally off. No band stuff.’

  Tate looks down at him. ‘I was talking about you, idiot.’

  ‘Charming. I’ll be just fine without you bugging the hell out of me. To be honest I’m looking forward to a month without you cramping my style.’

  ‘Your style? And which style is that exactly?’

  Gregg sticks out his tongue, ignoring the snigger from Liam standing behind them. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘That’s a comeback and a half. You been practising that?’

  ‘And there you go proving my point. It’s comments like that I’m not going to miss.’ But he will miss it. He’ll miss having his best friend around to irritate. ‘Seriously though, Tate, I’m–’

  ‘Fine. Yeah, I get the message.’ Tate hugs Gregg and steps out to the car as it pulls up at the kerb. ‘I’ll give you a shout in a few days.’

  ‘Just go and have fun.’

  ‘Will do. Why don’t you take your own advice while I’m gone?’

  ‘Fine. Just go before you get all mushy.’

  Tate climbs into the car with Liam and Gregg watches his friend drive away not sure whether he wants to go back inside the restaurant or go back to his room and... what? Wallow?

  He stares after the car feeling pathetic for missing Tate already. Ever since Tate’s overdose, Gregg had been with him as much as he could. Part of it was realising how close he came to losing
Tate and needing to keep an eye on him. The other part was missing the company. As an only child, Tate and his family were kind of like a second family to him. With all of them in Canada, he’ll be at a very loose end for the month.

  Well, all except Bria.

  He only found out before going on stage that she’s staying home while her parents and Tate are away. So not only does he not have Tate around to keep him occupied, he’s also got to dodge Bria for the month.

  He grimaces to himself and walks back into the restaurant. Might as well have one more fizzy drink before he goes back to his lonely hotel bed.

  3

  Bria quietly turns from the scene in front of her and walks out of the room, silently closing the door behind her. She leans against the wall and stares at the carpet while the images go around and around in her mind.

  Robbie is cheating on her. Right at this very moment he’s in bed with another woman. She looks over her shoulder at the door. Not just any woman - she’s pretty sure it’s the waitress that served them at dinner tonight.

  She absently pulls her phone from her bag and checks the screen. Tate just sent her a text asking where she is. Bria slips her phone into her bag, walks out of the hotel room and turns towards the lift at the end of the corridor. All she wants to do is get as far from that room as she can.

  Bria moves on autopilot through the hotel with no clear destination in mind. She stands in the lavish lobby area then spots the sign to the ladies’ toilets. She weaves through the guests and finally makes her way to the toilets, locking the cubicle door behind her. Bria sits on the toilet and lets the tears out, sobbing quietly as what she saw upstairs sinks in.

  Her boyfriend is having sex with a waitress while she’s hiding in the toilet. And he doesn’t even know he’s been found out.