Hate Me Today (Save Me #3) (2 page)

Jason

One Year L
ater

I can sit here all day long, staring at this dark chunk of marble. It won’t change anything though. The letters that make up his name, his birthday, the day he died, they won’t change if I blink. Hell, I could close my eyes for an eternity but when I open them, everything will still be the same.

Except I try not to close my eyes when I’m here. The nightmares, they’re bad enough when I’m away. Here, everything is stronger. I can still feel how light headed I was, can taste the gin on my tongue, can feel the slickness of blood on my hands. The sound of metal screeching as it gets ripped apart still assaults my ears.

I still hear the last ragged intake of breath from beside me and the sirens screaming up the road behind me.

It’s crazy to think that two of the best people, the most deserving people that ever walked this earth, we’re taken from it too soon. I turn my gaze to the right and about four feet from where I’m kneeling in the grass
I see Alex’s headstone.

Some days I wonder if Alex knew what he was doing to me when he picked his final resting spot, but I chalk it up to coincidence because there is no way for him to have known. Those records were sealed
a long time ago.

I sit between the graves, resting a hand on both stones.

I can hide it, fake it with the best of them, but some days I’m just so tired of the bullshit that I crack. I scream, yell, fight and it seems like the only thing that makes it better is the thing that started all my problems.

I set a shot glass on both headstones, filling them before I fill mine. I try to come up with something awesome to toast to them, but as usual I fall flat. Choking out the words I love and miss you around the golf ball sized lump in my throat, I toss the shot back, feeling the burn as I swallow it down.

There’s probably a better way to remember two of my favorite people, but this seems fitting for me. Alcohol is always the way to go. I pour the contents of the other two glasses into the grass in front of the stones, setting the glasses back on top and make my way back to my truck.

The rest of the bottle sits between my legs as I drive. Good idea? Probably not but I don’t care. Today starts the second round of hell for me. I used to love touring. I loved the vibe, the perks, the insane amount of ass and alcohol I would get. Now it’s mainly me trying to do anything to avoid being around the new girl I’m playing for.

I need to keep playing though. I can’t just sit back and play on the weekends, that’s not who I am. I talked to Abby about it when they decided to step back for a while. She suggested sliding into the open slot with some new talent to help her out. I agreed, mainly because I’d do anything for Abby. She failed to mention I would be touring with this god damn cock block. Now I know better than to accept a position without more details. Touring with her last year was horrible. Every time I turned around she was causing some sort of scene that she shouldn’t have.

I don’t care if she almost died from some sickness, hell I don’t care if she’s the mother fucking Pope. Come between me and my good time and we’re going to have a problem. Add that on top of every other reason the bitch has given me to hate her and the problem grows.

I pull into the parking lot and cap the bottle as fast as I can, tucking it into my bag. Tuesday is here to drive my truck home and if she sees me drinking and driving, she’ll cut my balls off and hang them around my neck as a reminder.

“You ready for this?” Tuesday asks when I slide out of the truck, pulling my bag along with me.

I stare at her like she’s an idiot. “Seriously?”

She steps up to me, stretching to wind her arms around my neck and snickers into my neck.

“Hey, you told Abby yes, assface. You can always buy out of your contract.”

“False pretenses. Abby knew I hated her when she paired us up. Plus, I’m not backing out. That would mean that bitch will win. I’d much rather just make her life hell while I can.”

“Such a bully. Not cool, kid.” I shrug. “Maybe this tour will be easier. Last year she was new to everything and learning. Shit might be different this time around.”

“Shit’s still shit even if it smells different. As long as she leaves three things alone this year I might make it through without killing her.”

“Oh, just three?” she chuckles.

I count off on my fingers. “My booze, anybody I set my sights on and my bass. Leave ‘em alone and she’ll survive the next few months. Thank God for the few breaks we get. I’m gonna
have to come see Evan when I get back. I need some new ink. Where is the fucker anyway?”

I look around the parking lot like he’s just going to appear. There is no sneaking around when you’re Evan’s size. Tuesday smiles making me forget that I was having a bad day. She was sad for so long, I love that she’s finally happy now.

“He had an early appointment so he dropped me off. I had some stuff to go over with the crew anyway.”

“What are you doing here? Going over shit with the crew isn’t part of the PR description.”

I toss my bag next to the bus and lean back against my truck, wrapping my arm over Tuesday’s shoulder.

“Nothing really,” she shrugs. “Garrett couldn’t make it so instead of calling someone in, I told them I would run through with them since I was going to be here anyway. Garrett will fly out and meet you at the first stop.”

We chat for about ten more minutes before an SUV pulls in and Vanessa jumps from the backseat, some preppy blonde guy groping her from inside the car. She giggles like a Valley girl, the sound grinding on my nerves already and she hasn’t even been near me for five seconds.

“You need to do something to stay calm around her.” Tuesday looks up at me. “She hasn’t even said anything to you and you look like someone shoved a mic stand up your ass.”

“The only thing I need to do is find a new band to play for or get her to walk.”

“You could always just go full time in a suit,” she jokes.

“You just think my ass is sexy in a three piece.” I step forward so I can shake my ass against her, earning a slap to the head.

"Get your ass on the bus."

I kiss her cheek and trudge forward. I grab my bag and bass on my way and toss them next to my bunk as I climb in. I press my headphones into my ears, cranking the volume up on Hollywood Undead’s “Kill Everyone” as loud as it will go to drown out Vanessa’s annoying voice.

I wonder how long I will last before I snap. I’ll have to come up with some way to amuse myself in order to deal with her.

Vanessa

I bat Bryan’s hand away and close the door to the SUV, promising to text him when I’m back in town. I won’t. I never do. What’s the point of getting attached when I’m always working? I deal with too many guys on tour as it is
; I don’t need another one to deal with.

I feel Jason’s eyes on me, boring a hole into my back but I ignore him. This tour will not be the hell that the last tour was. I’m not the push over I was last time and I don’t plan on letting him get to me with his shit.

By the time I turn around, Jason isn’t anywhere to be seen but Jack and Devon come racing up to me. Jack sets his guitar down and wraps his arms around me. Devon holds his fist out, his fingers firmly wrapped around his drum sticks and bumps my outstretched fist.

At least these two like me.

“Where’s that hot little piece of ass you usually have tailing behind you?” Devon peeks around the edge of the bus, searching for my assistant Mandi.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I hear Mandi’s heels click against the pavement as she rushes from the car that just pulled in. She forgets her bag and ends up ru
nning back for it. Devon meets her half way, taking the bag from her and slinging it over his shoulder.

He’s had this cute crush on her since I hired her at the end of the last tour and will go out of his way to be near her. The guys like to make fun of him because instead of grab
-assing with the groupies that throw themselves at them, Devon’s busy following Mandi like a puppy.

I follow everyone onto the bus, making myself at home again in the small space next to Mandi at the table. Tuesday climbs up the stairs, smil
es as she passes me and slides up onto the counter.

“
All right, children. One, two, three, four…,” she does a head count, narrowing her eyes when she realizes Jason isn’t here. “Hey dick lips, get out here. It’s time to join the sharing circle.”

Jason grumbles but rolls out of his bunk, topless for some reason. I can’t help but run my eyes over his skin. The amount of detail in his tattoos is amazing and if I ever had the chance, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I would spend hours looking at them all. The thing that strikes me as weird is they’re all black and gray, not an inch of color anywhere. I get caught staring at his abs, completely missing when Tuesday starts talking.

“Hey Vanessa, pay attention to the teacher not Jason’s body. If you’re still lookin’ for the D later I’ll let you slob on my knob.”

“Blowjob jokes within ten minutes. I think that’s a new record, Jack.” I turn so I’m able to look at him over the back of the booth. “I promise you this time, pretty boy, if I wake up and that toothpick is near my face again, you’ll need a penis transplant. We clear?”

Jack reaches down, adjusting himself before turning his attention back to Tuesday.

“Anyway… I’m just here to lay down the law. We need this tour to go a little smoother than last year
's. So, these rules are here to keep you out of trouble.” She turns her head, pinning Jason with her eyes. “No bar fights, no pregnancy scares, no jail time. As much as I love you guys, I really don’t want to come out to see you because of something stupid and Payton doesn’t want to have to leave her kids to deal with stupid shit. So, please repeat the rules back to me and then I’ll leave you alone like the grown-ups you’re supposed to be.”

All five of us speak at the same time, trying not to laugh.

“No bar fights, no pregnancy scares, no jail time.”

Vanessa

This soon into the tour and the last thing I wanted to do was take a commuter plane so I could make this damn doctor’s appointment.

I hand the taxi driver money
, pulling my hood over my head as I close the door and stuff my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. I keep my head down, barely breathing in as I push my way through the mass of people. As soon as I’m through the automatic doors I pull a hospital mask over my face as fast as I can and scrub my hands with hand sanitizer.

“I have an appointment at ten forty with Dr. Close,” I say when I step up the receptionist.

Without even looking up from the computer screen the lady says, “Full name and date of birth.”

I bite my tongue to keep my attitude in check after the tone she uses. Which, believe me, is hard when you’re running on four hours of sleep from the last two days.

“Vanessa Camaron Knox. August second, nineteen-ninety-four.”

My name catches her attention and she finally looks up and smiles. Thankfully
, she doesn’t make a scene. Instead, she quietly places the bracelet around my wrist and tells me to take a seat and they will call me when it is my turn.

I have the urge to be a bitch and tell her that I know. I’ve only been doing this clinic shit for four years. I’m just thankful that it’s not twice a week anymore. Instead I hold my tongue and walk away. I try hard not to be a bitch and just let shit roll off my back because who needs it but something about being in this place drives me nuts.

Scanning the room, I look for the emptiest spot in the large crowded waiting room. The most open spot happens to be in the back of the room next to an elderly couple. I smile at them as I sit down. Not that they can see it behind this stupid mask, but at least I make the effort. That’s more than most of the people I meet on a daily basis do.

The old man’s eyes crinkle when he smiles back at me. I look down to where their hands are linked together and feel a bit jealous. The love they feel for each other is pretty obvious.

On some level, it pisses me off whenever I see anyone in love. Mainly because who knows if I’ll be around long enough to find it and yes, OK, I’m jealous that this old lady has a support system with her.

I used to have that. I used to have at least one of my parents, if not both, with me for every one of these damn appointments. Now I don’t even tell them when I have a doctor’s appointment because if I have to hear one more time how I should give up my career because I’m “still sick”, I might hurt someone.

“V. Knox. V.C. Knox.”

I look up to find Nicole, my favorite nurse smiling at me. I stand and follow her back into an exam room.

“So babe, bang any smoking hot rock gods lately?” she asks as she grabs everything she needs.

I chuckle behind my mask as she slides a needle into my arm to draw my blood.

“Christ, I haven’t even had time to sleep let alone screw around and have fun like that.”

Her brow creases as she puts the draw kit away and starts taking my vitals, suddenly getting serious.

“How much have you been sleeping lately? If you lie to me, I’m going to make sure next time I draw your blood it’s painful.”

I roll my eyes before dropping them to the ground, waiting for my reprimanding. “About four hours in two days. We’ve been non-stop.”

“Non-stop or not, Vanessa, you need more sleep than that if you want to stay out of the hospital.” Nicole goes on about how sleep is vital for my immune system. Yada, yada, it’s all shit I’ve heard ten million times over.

She finishes up, leaving me alone until Dr. Close knocks. “I hear you aren’t sleeping” is the first thing she says.

I smile, knowing Nicole ran straight to her because she was worried. It’s nice to have someone who actually worries but doesn’t demand I stop doing what I love. Plus, I think she would miss the stories I tell her about what goes on on the road.

I hold up my hand, stopping her before she even starts really talking. “I’ve already heard the whole speech so you can save the effort.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” she cocks her eyebrow at me for sassing her and looks down at my chart. “It’s causing problems. Your immune system is suffering from something. It could be the lack of sleep or you could be coming down with something but either way, we’re going to give you a transfusion to get your counts back up so you don’t get sick.”

I shrug and follow her down the hall to the transfusion room. It doesn’t take more than five minutes into the process for my body to break out in hives. Without fail we go through this
every time but they never listen to me and give me drugs beforehand. The nurse injects me with some Benadryl and it isn’t long before I’m passing out in the chair.