Uninhibited : Savage Wilde Page 2

  “I’m saying you should take an extended vacation,” I advise.

  “Then we are splitting up,” she says through hazy, tear-filled eyes.

  “Jacey, fuck. Take from this what you want, that’s not what I said!” It feels as if everything I’m saying and trying to express to her is going nowhere. All she’s hearing is time apart and assumes that means calling it quits between us. Right now, I’m at the point where it could go either way and I’d be fine with the outcome.

  A man can only take so much of the green-eyed monster before he reacts.

  “Not in so many words, but I get the implication of their meaning. Will the band be okay without its manager?” So what, now we’re in business mode? Do we mean so little to her? Fuck this, I can’t do this anymore.

  “We’ll be fine, Jacey.”

  “Okay, then I’ll get packed up and book a flight.”

  Had I known those words would be our final ones for years to come, I would’ve made different choices.

  Jacey

  I go through the motions and exit the plane when it lands in my hometown. Flopping down on an airport terminal chair, the feeling of not wanting to go to my parents’ house hits me like a wrecking ball. I need some time alone to gather my thoughts. My life feels like it’s over. There’s nowhere for me to go where rumors and pointing fingers won’t be aimed in my direction. We live in a small town, and everyone will know and gossip about the fact I’m not with the Wilde siblings. Mentally, I know I’m not ready to face the ridicule and be on the receiving end of the townsfolk’s vicious, accusing words.

  I’m not a millionaire by any stretch of the imagination, but I have a large bulk in both my savings and checking accounts. I was saving up for the day that Rayne and I would put down some roots and want to purchase a home. I wanted to be able to go in half on the down payment, never wanting to be a kept woman. I’ve always believed in pulling my own weight in our relationship.

  I can’t survive on my bank account funds forever, but it’s enough to start a new life somewhere else. I’ll never be able to live in my hometown ever again and not feel strangled with the emotions of the past. I grab my bags and walk around, trying to decide where I’d like to try and start life over again and re-invent myself where no one knows who I am.

  Pulling out my phone, I open up a United States map, close my eyes, and plant my finger on a nondescript town far away from here.

  A new state, a new town, a new me.

  One without Rayne and the women I’ve always considered my sisters.

  It’s not going to be sunshine and rainbows in the beginning, but no matter what, I’m gonna make it work. I can do this. I will do this.

  With determination in my step, I make it up to the kiosk machine and insert the information. Once my ticket prints out, I once again check in my luggage and leave for a foreign place.

  To new beginnings.

  2

  Jacey

  Present-day . . .

  “Hadley Nicole!” I holler out at my two-year-old daughter who thought it’d be fun to draw on her bedroom walls. “Where on Earth did you find these crayons?” She’s more of a doer than a talker. She grabs my hand and leads me into my home office. Pointing at a basket I keep in here for her of activities and coloring books, I sigh in defeat. “Well, we’ll have to clean it up tonight when we get home. Are you ready for school?” I ask excitedly in an attempt to get her happy at the prospect of going to daycare.

  “No.” She crosses her arms over her tiny chest and pouts. ‘No’ seems to be a word she doesn’t mind saying out loud. As a matter of fact, I firmly believe it’s her favorite word. She seems to enjoy the way it rolls off of her tongue.

  “Hadley, don’t be like that,” I say with apprehension. We have good days where she’s excited to go play with her friends, then we have days like today when she has no gumption to leave my side.

  “Stay wiff Momma.” She stands her ground.

  “You can’t come to work with Momma today, sweetheart. I have a meeting with clients and have no one to watch you.” Why I even try to compromise with her is an courageous concept.

  “No school! Stay wiff Momma!” she hollers while stomping her foot.

  “I don’t have time for this today, Hadley.” Walking away from her, I count to ten to calm myself. “Get your bag,” I holler out over my shoulder.

  “I no wanna go,” she cries as she follows behind me, stomping the entire way, sounding like a herd of elephants.

  “Too bad, missy. Get used to it, that’s life.” Again, I try to talk to her as if she understands the concepts of life.

  “Life bad,” she declares.

  “You have no idea,” I mutter under my breath.

  This day seemed to drag on. It was productive, yet exhausting. As I pull into Hadley’s daycare, I mentally prepare myself to deal with my moody, opinionated two-year-old.

  “Momma!” she screams excitedly as I walk into her classroom.

  “Did you have a good day?” I ask as I scoop her up into my arms.

  “No. Wanna go homes,” she solemnly declares.

  Her teacher walks up behind me, shaking her head with a smile planted on her face. “She had a great day,” Mrs. Coleson states. “She really enjoyed building a castle with Play-Doh. She and Carson made it a contest. They laughed and thoroughly enjoyed smashing each other’s when finished.”

  “Carson’s my bestest friend,” my girl states.

  “He is?” I ask dumbfoundingly. I’ve never heard this boy’s name before.

  “He’s new, started today,” Mrs. Coleson advises.

  “Ah. A boy for a best friend, that is a road I wish you wouldn’t follow, little girl.” I tickle her belly and the room fills with her giggles. “Ready to hit the road?”

  “Yep,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck so tightly I have to fight for a gulp of fresh air. “Home, now,” my little squirt demands.

  “Home it is,” I proclaim. I think about what’s in the kitchen for dinner. Right now, she’s on a macaroni and cheese kick, but I’m getting a bit tired of it myself. Regardless, I’ll make it for her and put something else on for me.

  Rayne

  Another sleepless night filled with booze, easy chicks, and partying until the sun came up. This isn’t the life I envisioned for myself. By this time, I saw Jacey and me living the white picket fence, happily ever after life. I’ve tried to forget her over time by burying myself in any willing female’s body, but that has never worked out. I decided when she sent in her resignation that I would abide by her wishes with the note that followed. She asked that I let her be, let her live her life and move forward without my ghost following her.

  It’s been hard. My sisters didn’t talk to me for a week after they found out I sent her home, but that was to be the extent of it in my mind. She was to go home for a month, maybe two, then we’d reunite and things would have settled down. We could have a fresh start, maybe come out to the public as a couple—fuck what my publicist had to say. But just like life, nothing ever works out as planned.

  I wanted time to get away from the jealousy, to form a plan of execution to where she’d never have to experience those jealous feelings again. But those best-laid plans went up in smoke when I got that message. Then, hoping that maybe she was in our hometown, we went home during a break in our schedule. Only instead of seeing Jacey at her parents’ house, I was met with a fist to the eye from her dad. It seems she didn’t just cut us out of her life, she did it to them as well, and neither of her parents took it well. My sisters, of course, felt I got what I deserved for ‘chasing off the best thing that had ever happened to any of us,’ so they gave me no sympathy whatsoever.

  Shaking off my wayward, depressing thoughts, I turn to my side and shake the shoulders of the woman lying next to me. The blonde woman stirs a little with a wide yawn before finally opening her eyes all the way. When they land on me, I suggest, “It’s time for you to hit the road.”

  “But I thought w
e could have another go at it before I leave,” she whines as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

  “Not happening.” I diffuse any situation where I believe there’s the possibility of a woman getting attached to me. I do not need nor do I want that shit in my life.

  “But we were good together last night. We lit the sheets on fire,” she continues, running a finger up my bare chest.

  I scoff because she was mediocre at best. Sure, I got what I was looking for, but a lot of her reactions were faked, and I have a gut feeling that I’ll see her ‘story’ in the latest rag magazine next week. Some decisions shouldn’t be made when tequila’s involved and she was one of them, apparently.

  “Get going before I call security and have you escorted out.” It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this, and probably won’t be the last.

  “You’re an asshole, Rayne,” she huffs.

  “Yep, whatever you have to tell yourself, I’m good with.”

  “Jesus, aren’t you supposed to keep your fans happy and shit?” she questions.

  “I made you happy. Gave you several orgasms and a story to share with your girlfriends. Hell, you’re probably one of those bitches who’s gonna get a payday from our night.”

  The look she gives me tells me I’m right and I sigh, rubbing my hand down my face. Maybe I need to get one of those non-disclosure things signed before I take any of these groupies to my bed. I make a mental note to ask my publicist what she thinks, even though on most days, I hate her advice.

  It takes me ignoring her to get her ass into gear. I head into the shower and scrub away the feel of her skin still embedded on mine. When I exit the bathroom, I see that she’s gone and I thank my lucky stars.

  On to the next town and one-night stand.

  3

  Jacey

  The days drag on. It’s the same arguments with my daughter, same clients from hell, and venue’s that feel as if they’ll never end. “Miss Markum, I promise you, this will be a wedding fit for a queen,” I say dryly to my bridezilla.

  “It better be. We’ve paid you a fortune. Get my flowers right,” she continues, berating me. Maybe I chose the wrong line of work. I believed that since I managed a band, I could take on this job and excel at it. But most days, I want to pull my hair right out of my head by its roots. Party planning is more exhausting than endless nights of performances and parties.

  “I’ll have everything squared away with a single phone call,” I advise.

  “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, go there and take care of it personally?” If I could reach through this phone, I’d yank her false lashes from her eyes. This is the most annoying, infuriating woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

  “No. I’ve used this vendor exclusively in the past and have never had an issue before. I’m sure I can resolve it with a phone call. Now, have you made the appointment for the cake testing yet?” I know she hasn’t because I have three bakeries on speed-dial and I already called them to find out if Queen Witch had scheduled anything.

  “No, I haven’t. Is that really important?” I roll my eyes because she’s been involved in every aspect so far. Why would she think the cake wouldn’t be important? It’s one of the focal points at the reception, for fuck’s sake.

  “That depends. Do you want your guests talking about how the cake tasted or how you looked?” I inquire, hopefully appealing to her ego.

  “Well, I guess I better call them then.”

  “Stephanie, I won’t steer you wrong. This is your wedding day and the only way my business continues to grow is if my brides are happy. I promise the issue with the flowers is a minor one, and I plan to get it fixed once we’re off the phone. Other than that, and you figuring out which bakery will do the actual cake, we’re in excellent shape for your big day.”

  I hear her sigh over the phone before she says, “I don’t mean to be such a bitch, Jacey. It’s just that my fiancé’s family is so critical of me, if everything’s not perfect, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Does your fiancé sit back and let this happen?” I ask without thinking. I usually make it a mission not to interfere in my clients’ personal lives. This is a business exchange between parties, nothing more, nothing less. A business won’t thrive if you have the reputation of a busybody.

  “No, actually, he doesn’t, if he hears them, but I love him too much to put him in the position of having to defend me all the time,” she desperately states. “They don’t think I’m good enough or thin enough, and the fact that I only have a two-year degree from a local college nearly sent their Harvard-loving asses into fits.” I can’t help it; I giggle at the visual she’s giving me and soon we’re both laughing.

  “We’ll ensure everything is as perfect as we can make it,” I promise. “I’m sure they’ll still find something to complain about, but at the end of the day, you and he will be married and can do what you want.”

  “We’re planning on it. He hasn’t told them yet, but we’re relocating to Wyoming. He’s already bought a ranch and we’re going to raise babies and horses. Horses first, of course,” she replies.

  “Sounds like you two are just trying to get through this part, then. I’ll do what I can to make it go as smoothly as possible. Have you two decided if you’re going to leave for your honeymoon directly after the wedding?” She said they’d been indecisive on whether they were gonna leave immediately afterward or wait a week or two.

  “Oh, no, we're waiting for two days. Our favorite band is coming to town for a performance and we’ve got front-row tickets! I’m so excited! I’ve always wanted to see them in concert, and they’re coming here! To little old Hicktown U.S. of A.”

  “Oh, who pray tell is your favorite?” I can’t wait to hear this answer. It’s probably some orchestra or quartet—they seem the classical type, if you ask me.

  “Uninhibited!” Stephanie squeals. My life flashes before me. Tell me this isn’t happening. I’m in some sort of work-related nightmare. Have to be. There’s no way Rayne and the girls are coming to my town. They don’t play at small venues.

  Ever.

  “What? Here? Are you sure?” I blurt out the three questions in succession.

  “Yep, they’re putting on a charity concert for the children’s hospital. Plus, something was mentioned about finding their roots again. They’re tired of all the hustle and bustle of the big cities. They plan on staying here for a short time to work on new lyrics. I can’t wait to see what they come up with while visiting. I bet they haven’t seen a good sunset or witnessed a blanket of stars in the sky like what we have here.”

  “I bet,” I mumble, reaching down to pinch myself, hoping to wake myself up from this unwelcomed nightmare. Nope, I’m wide a-fucking-wake. I purposely picked a small town so I wouldn’t run into them, into him, and now they're invading my personal and private sanctuary.

  Fucking perfect.

  Rayne

  I’ve made some poor choices since Jacey left me that fateful morning. I’ve suffered some horrific consequences from those jumped-to-without-thinking-things-through choices. But none of those fucking compare to this, not one bit. They are pathetic compared to the pictures I’m holding in my hands. I woke up one morning and decided enough was e-fucking-nough.

  I stopped drinking and sleeping with random groupies.

  I wanted my life back.

  I wanted her back.

  I wanted to go back to the days when my life was filled with love and laughter.

  So, I did what any man in my position and predicament would do—I hired a private investigator to find her. When he met with me, my jaw dropped to the floor when I opened the sealed envelope and looked at the contents inside.

  Jacey has a kid.

  My kid.

  A daughter.

  I’m a father and she stole that from me. That’s the same day I told my sisters I needed some time to gather my thoughts and find myself again. The media believes, as well as my sisters, that I’m finding a small tow
n for us to lie low in and work on some new tunes for the band.

  We’re all tired and due for some peace and quiet, and Jacey just gave me that perfect place in spades.

  “Knock, knock,” I hear Justine holler out as she enters my hotel room. We have a suite with connecting rooms and doors. There’s a big ol’ living room and kitchen separating the four of us. “Have a minute to chat?” she asks me.

  “I always have room for my favorite sister,” I respond.

  “You say that to all of us. You don’t have a favorite,” she pouts while pointing out this well-known fact.

  “This is true, I love you all the same. Come in, take a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind, Justine.”

  She rushes over, plopping on the bed, bouncing a few times before crossing her legs and sitting Indian style in the middle of my bed. She begins playing with a loose thread on her shirt before finally looking up at me with those bright green orbs of hers. “So, Billie, Sibley, and I were talking.”

  “Oh fuck, any time one of the three of you starts a sentence that way, I know I’m in trouble,” I chuckle.

  “Hardee-har-har, big brother. We aren’t that bad,” she replies while giving me a glaring look.

  “Spit it out. Lay it all out on the table, Sis.”

  “Well, you see, we were just wondering why we’re staying in Hicksville instead of going home and spending time with the parents. Is something going on that we don’t know about?”

  “Shit,” I hiss, running my fingers through my hair. I was hoping they wouldn’t catch on to how weird this entire situation is. They usually just go along with my plans and don’t throw down the gauntlet. I didn’t want to have this conversation with the three of them until I had time to confront Jacey personally. This is going to fuck them up as bad as it does me. And I hate seeing my sisters upset or disappointed.