Defile (Civil Corruption Book 2) Read online

  And I was going to make her see that if it was the last thing I did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Declan

  Shooting off a group text twenty minutes after we all got back to the hotel, I barely gave the guys a chance to settle in before demanding an impromptu meeting.

  Me: Band meeting. My room. Now.

  Mace’s response came in a second later.

  Mace: Fuck you. I’m beat. I just wanna crash.

  Me: You can crash after. Get your ass over here.

  Pacing the living area of my hotel suite, I waited for those good-for-nothing bastards to start showing up.

  Garrett: Piss off. Gwen just agreed to marry me. We’re celebrating. Shove your meeting up your ass.

  Well that was fantastic news. I was thrilled to my bones for those two, but they’d have forever to celebrate. What I needed had to happen now.

  Me: Congrats, brother, but pump the brakes on the celebration. This is important. I wouldn’t interrupt otherwise.

  I knew that would get them and, sure enough, five minutes later there was a furious pounding on my hotel door.

  “This better be good, you cockblockin’ son of a bitch,” Garrett grunted as he dragged a deliriously happy Gwen into the room behind him.

  Killian and Mace waltzed in a few seconds later.

  “Spit out what’s so damn important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow so I can take my ass to bed,” Mason grumbled. Obviously a day of drinking his sorrows away was beginning to take a physical toll.

  “So, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I think it’s time to hire a new manager. Chris was a piece of shit, and I’m glad we fired his ass, but we need to replace him.”

  Killian’s eyes went to the ceiling as he groaned like a damn baby. “Are you serious right now? This is really what was so damn important?”

  “Yeah, because I think I’ve found the perfect one.” All eyes came to me, each brimming with curiosity and skepticism.

  “Who?” Mace asked hesitantly.

  “Think about it,” I replied. “Who’s the person who basically started this for us? Who’s the one person who had only our best interests in mind?”

  “No. No way,” Garrett snapped. “Don’t even think about it, Deck. Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

  “Who’s he talking about? What am I missing?” Gwen asked, looking to each of us in complete confusion.

  “Leave her the hell alone, brother,” Garrett continued.

  “Tell me she’s not the best option,” I pushed.

  “I’m not saying she isn’t the best option. She busted her ass for us. But that was before you fucked it all to hell.”

  “Wait, just hold on,” Killian cut in. “Let’s just think about this for a second. I mean, she’s the one who lined up all those gigs for us when we first started out, right? And she’s friends with that Camden Knight dude, so she’s obviously got connections. And we trust her. This might actually be a good idea.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Mace laughed sarcastically. “He approaches her with this, and she’ll string him up by the goddamn short hairs” he added, pointing in my direction.

  I nodded, knowing damn good and well he was right. “That’s why I suggest we do it as a group. With Gwen here for a bit of female support.”

  “Whoa.” Gwen held her hands up, palms out. “You’re talking about Tatum? Like your ex-girlfriend Tatum? The one who looked like she wanted to cut your balls off and feed them to you?”

  “That would be the one,” Garrett mumbled, looking like he wanted to do the exact same thing.

  “And how exactly am I supposed to offer any kind of support?”

  “Don’t you women like solidarity in numbers or some shit like that?” I asked her. “Come on, guys. You know I’m right about this. And you can’t tell me you don’t want her back with us.”

  The three men in the room went quiet, looking down at their feet in contemplation, and I knew I had them. Tate was important to each and every one of them. She was like their sister, for Christ’s sake. I wasn’t the only one who lost her.

  “So how do you suggest we do this?” Garrett finally asked minutes later, and I almost pumped my fist in triumph.

  “You mean how do we get her to agree to this fucked idea?” Mason scoffed. “Offer her more money than she’ll know what the hell to do with, maybe?”

  “We’ll talk her around,” I answered confidently. I was pretty sure I was getting ahead of myself, but I didn’t give a shit. I was going to find a way to make this happen. “Tomorrow morning, nine. Be prepared to grovel if that’s what it takes.”

  “Where are you goin’?” Killian called after me as I started for the door.

  Looking over my shoulder, my hand on the doorknob, I replied, “Well someone’s gotta tell her we’re having a band meeting in the morning, don’t they?”

  Then I walked out without so much as a backward glance.

  I remembered the trellis being a lot sturdier when I used to climb it back in high school. I wasn’t sure if it was because the wood had worn with age, or because I had about forty more pounds of muscle on my body than I did back then, but either way, I held my breath as I climbed toward Tate’s window, praying the goddamn thing didn’t crack and leave me with a broken neck on the ground.

  Making it to the top, I pulled in a relieved breath and tested the window, shocked as hell when I found it unlocked. It had been a long shot, coming to her parents’ house. I wasn’t even sure she’d be there, but as the light from the moon poured into the dark bedroom, the first glimpse I got was of her fiery hair draped across the pillows. My heart clenched at the sight of it, but that wasn’t the only thing I noticed.

  Used to be Tatum slept freely, her long limbs stretching out and taking as much space as possible. When we slept together, she always stayed curled around me, but if she was alone, the whole bed was hers and she utilized every inch.

  That wasn’t the case now.

  Now, most of her queen-size bed was empty. Tatum was asleep on her side, her knees tucked tightly against her chest with her hands wedged beneath her face in a prayer position. At the sight of her sleeping in a protective little ball, the tightness moved from my chest to my stomach. I wasn’t sure what made her change her sleeping habits, but there was no doubt that it was somehow my fault.

  I couldn’t stand seeing her like that. Even in sleep she looked vulnerable. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to take back the mistakes I’d made in the past and be the one she clung to at night.

  Unable to resist the pull of her—the same goddamn pull I’d felt since I first saw her when we were seven—I moved as quietly as possible across the room. I had no right to do what I was about to do, but I couldn’t stop myself. She didn’t look comfortable, and every fiber of my being was screaming out to make it better.

  Kicking off my shoes once I reached the side of the bed, I slowly lifted the covers and climbed in beside her. The smell of vanilla and citrus invaded my lungs, and I could’ve sworn I’d been pulled back in time. It was the same scent she’d worn for as long as I could remember. In the past, when it had been my right, I used to bury my face in her hair every chance I got and pull that fragrance into my lungs.

  I got close enough to feel the heat from her body radiate against mine. It was as intense as a physical touch. I fisted my hands against the overwhelming desire to reach out for her, but then she moved in her sleep, rolling to her other side and shifting until her face was nuzzled into my chest and her legs tangled with mine.

  It took everything in me not to cry out my thanks that, despite her hatred for me, Tatum’s subconscious still craved me as much as I craved her. She had always been my favorite drug, and now that I had her pressed against me once more, I was certain there was no chance of curing my addiction. And I didn’t even fucking want to.

  Twining my arms around her, I pulled her even closer. The feel of her curves nestled against me made my cock stir to life. Tatum Valentine al
ways had the best goddamn body of any woman I’d ever seen. All lush and curvy, she was built like every man’s dream woman. With ass and tits to spare, a tiny waist you could easily grab hold of to lift her up, long legs that were made to wrap around my waist as I drove my cock into the tightest, hottest pussy on the planet—everything about her was pure, unadulterated perfection.

  The muscles in my jaw ticked from how tightly I was grinding my teeth together. This had been a huge mistake. The urge to slide my palm beneath the back of that flimsy T-shirt just so I could feel her skin was almost too much to bear.

  Breathing deeply, I concentrated on giving her comfort, not taking anything for myself like the selfish bastard she thought I was. Eventually my body calmed down, and I was able to relax.

  With her unique scent in my nose, and her warm body beneath my hands, I felt like I was whole once again. I had no business being there. I should've left. I should’ve given her what she’d asked for and stayed away, but seeing her again earlier that day was like finding the missing piece of my heart that had prevented it from healing properly all these years.

  Several minutes later, she hummed and twisted to her other side. “Mmm,” she mumbled sleepily. “I don’t care how uncomfortable that twin in the guest room is, Cam. You can’t sleep in here. Go away.”

  The muscles in my body strained for a split second before I reached out and pulled her back flush to my chest. Then I spoke. “You know, baby, I might’ve gotten jealous that you mistook me for another man if you hadn’t been telling him to get out of your bed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tatum

  I’d been having the best dream.

  It was dark. The only light in my room was from the moon shining bright outside my window. But I didn’t need sight to know who it was in my bed. I knew exactly whose hair I was pulling, whose back I raked my nails down, whose tongue dueled with mine as my body received the most intense pleasure.

  But when those stormy blues met mine, I couldn’t shake the sense that this was wrong. What we were doing was wrong. Even in my dreams I knew Declan was all kinds of bad for me.

  The dream eventually faded, and a tiny niggling of consciousness crept in. Along with the heat of someone’s body. Still half asleep, I moaned and rolled to my other side to get away from the person who’d taken up most of my bed. “I don’t care how uncomfortable that twin in the guest room is, Cam. You can’t sleep in here. Go away.”

  It was being yanked across the mattress into a solid wall of chest that woke me completely. Then the person holding me in a vice grip spoke, and my blood turned to ice. “You know, baby, I might’ve gotten jealous that you mistook me for another man if you hadn’t been telling him to get out of your bed.”

  My scream was quickly cut off by Declan’s large hand as he whispered in my ear. “Chill out, Tate. You’ll wake the whole goddamn house up.”

  With that, my momentary terror gave way to blind rage. Spinning around as best I could, I started smacking the shit out of Declan, landing open-handed slaps wherever I could reach. “You stupid son of a bitch!” I whisper-yelled. “You scared the hell outta me!”

  “Jesus Christ, Tatum!” he hissed. “Calm the fuck down.”

  “Calm down? Calm down? You broke into my house in the middle of the night and climbed into my bed! I will not calm down, you psycho!”

  My assault was quickly cut off when Declan moved fast as lightning, pinning my arms against the pillow above my head. His body straddled mine as he leaned closer, his face just inches away.

  “Relax,” he commanded. “I came in the same way I always have. You left the damn window open for me, for Christ’s sake.”

  I felt my eyes bug out so far I was afraid they were going to pop right out of my skull. “I didn’t leave it open for you, you arrogant prick! I haven’t checked that lock in years.”

  A cocky smirk tipped the corners of his mouth upward. “That’s ’cause your subconscious has been waiting for me to climb back through all this time.”

  What happened next was nothing more than my body’s reaction of him being a massive jerk. It was a reflex, pure and simple. My knee came up swiftly, connecting hard with Declan’s frank and beans. And as he let out a bark of pain and rolled off the mattress onto the floor, I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilty. I was actually pretty damn proud of myself as I peered over the edge of the bed and saw him curl up in the fetal position, clutching his manhood and gasping for breath.

  The bedroom door burst open a second later, light from the hallway spilling in to reveal Cam, dressed in nothing but a tight pair of gray boxer briefs, with one of my dad’s golf clubs held over his head. “What’s happening? What’s going on?” he asked frantically, his eyes searching for an intruder. “I’ll kill ’em. Where’d they go?”

  I pointed down at the ground casually just as Deck let out an agonized “Fuckin’ fuck me. I’m dying. Jesus Christ.”

  “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I sighed, pushing myself up to sitting. “And will you close the damn door already?” I snapped at Cam while flicking on the lamp on my bedside table. “Last thing I need is for my parents to wake up and come rushing in here. Dad’ll get one look at Declan and shoot him on the spot, and I really don’t want to have to visit him in San Quentin.”

  Camden stepped farther into my room, lowering the golf club as he kicked the door shut behind him. “What the hell, Tate? You actually let this fucker in your house?”

  “Of course I didn’t,” I sighed with a roll of my eyes. “I woke up with him in my bed. He climbed through the window.”

  Cam’s expression morphed into one of rage as he jerked the golf club back up. “You sick bastard! I’m gonna—”

  “Whoa, stop!” I jumped off the bed and put myself between the two men. “Jeez, Cam. What are you going to do, huh? Murder Declan Forrester with a nine iron?”

  “Uh, yeah!” he snapped. “The creepy fucker breaks into your room in the middle of the night and crawls into bed with you while you’re sleeping? No jury in the world’ll convict me.”

  Declan moved behind me, letting out a groan as he slowly lifted himself off the floor. “What’s this asshole doing here, Tate? And why the hell is he practically naked?”

  “That’s none of your goddamn business,” Cam threatened in a low, menacing voice.

  “Sure the hell is, seein’ as you’re standing in my woman’s bedroom in nothing but your underwear,” Declan growled.

  “Not your woman, asshole. Not your anything. She’s been mine for the past five years.”

  Wait. What?

  When Deck took a step forward, Camden’s hand came out, resting on my lower belly and guiding me behind him like he was my own personal protective shield.

  I noticed Declan’s eyes immediately hone in on that hand, then grow dark as thunderclouds. “You’ll want to take that hand off her, bud, before I do it for you.”

  The two of them stood toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose, and I briefly recalled thinking they were very similar in build before the reality of the situation finally dawned on me. Forcing myself between them, I placed a hand on their chests and shoved with all my might.

  “Enough,” I hissed warningly. “Whatever pissing match you two feel like having isn’t happening right now, and it’s definitely not happening here. Back off.”

  Surprisingly enough, they both listened, each one taking a single step backward to put more space between them.

  Turning to look Declan right in the eyes—a huge mistake on my part, since those eyes had a way of slaying me—I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  His attention shifted from Camden to me, and his face went from granite to soft with the flip of a switch. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here with the intension of crawling into bed with you. It just… happened.”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I lifted my hand while giving my head a shake to clear the tumultuous jumble of thoughts floating around inside. “Just answer the question, please.”

  “There’s a
band meeting tomorrow morning at nine.”

  “The hell’s that got to do with her?” Camden barked from behind me, not helping the situation in the slightest.

  “Man, you want to stay the fuck outta shit that’s none of your goddamn business?”

  At Declan’s words, I felt Cam bristle, anger pouring off him in waves. “She’s my business.”

  “Deck,” I said firmly, gaining his attention once more. “He’s right. Your band’s business doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  Something flashed across his face, too fast for me to recognize before he blanked his expression. “That’s where you’re wrong, Tate. The guys need you to show in the morning. I know you hate me, but you don’t hate them. You really want to let them down?”

  He hit right where it hurt, right where he knew it would have the most impact. Damn him. He knew I couldn’t let those guys down.

  “All right,” I relented on a sigh. “Where do I meet you?”

  Declan smiled triumphantly. “Four Seasons on Market. Presidential suite. Nine o’clock.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him I’d be there when Camden spoke up. “I’m going with.”

  “The hell you are,” Declan growled. “What part of ‘band meeting’ didn’t you understand?”

  “And what part of ‘she’s my business’ didn’t you understand?”

  I’d officially had enough. My head was killing me, I’d just had the day from hell, saying goodbye to a man who was like a brother to me, and I didn’t have the energy for this to continue.

  “He’s coming with me,” I cut in. “Take it or leave it, Deck.”

  “Fine,” he replied stonily. “But keep your guard dog on a goddamn leash. It’s a nice hotel.”

  With that, he strolled back to the window, casual as could be, and climbed out, disappearing a few seconds later.

  I spun around on Camden, both of us snapping, “What the hell?” at the exact same time.