Page 12 of Symphonic Synergy
Girlfriend. A word that most people used casually. But for me, a girl who’d had no one to care for her, those two syllables were life-altering. Because Piper had said I belonged to her.
“Make sure my girlfriend gets treated well,” Piper yells to the roadies as she wraps an arm around the groupie from the other night—the groupie who had her face shoved up Piper’s pussy like it was her source of oxygen.
I hated the groupie.
I despised Piper.
If it were possible to burn two people alive by looking at them, they would be in flames and, hopefully, excruciating pain.
The blonde groupie bats her eyelashes and preens like she’s somebody. How the fuck is Piper okay with the girl hanging all over her when she marched off to fuck the guys from Gutless Void as soon as the opportunity presented itself? It would serve Piper right if the little groupie humiliated her. I should’ve invited the redheaded to be my little girlfriend for the rest of the tour.
“Who are you trying to set a blaze?”
I jump at Iggy’s deep timbre.
“No one.”
I push past him to the stage and pretend I’m looking at the lighting, which I know next to nothing about. My job doesn’t even require me to be backstage at all, but here I am, stalking my ex-girlfriend and her new plaything like a little psycho. I’m so fucking pathetic.
Iggy chuckles. “Gotta give it to you. You’ve got good taste. Piper Hughes is pretty fuckin’ hot.”
An obnoxious smile creeps onto his face as I whirl around and jab my finger into his solid chest. “You don’t need to worry about how hot she is.”
Iggy laughs, holding his hands up. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I’ve got nothing but an urge to shove my foot up your ass.”
“Denial is a river in Egypt.”
I glare at Iggy. “That’s a stupid saying. It’s The Nile, not denial, so it makes zero sense.”
Iggy’s head tilts, and I’m sure he’s dramatically rolling his eyes beneath the gas mask. “Anyway, you bang her yet?”
“Who?”
“Oh, come on, Kaye, you aren’t this obtuse. You know who I’m talking about. Piper. Have you banged her yet?”
I step forward, forcing Iggy to take a step back. I must admit I enjoy how these four big men fear little old me. “Unlike some people, I don’t shit where I eat.”
“Hey, I don’t shit where I eat,” Iggy says, outraged.
“Is that why you’re not talking to Marley?”
Iggy straightens his shoulders and clenches his fists. I’ve struck a nerve, which is saying something since Iggy’s nerves are Teflon-coated.
He grips my shoulders and turns me around until Piper is the only person in my line of vision. “Focus, Kaye. Keep your eyes on the prize.”
“The band is the prize,” I whisper, tasting the bitter truth of the lie wrapped around the tip of my tongue like venom.
“Music is the fuel, but love is the prize. Look at Cain and Lars. They’re much happier than the rest of us because their lives are full. Billie completed them. As cheesy as all that shit is, it’s a hard truth. Life without love is no life at all.”
My eyes flutter shut, and I push back all the emotions surging inside me: anger, lust, rage, fear, love, and regret. “Sometimes, love can’t win. Sometimes, too much is stacked against you. Sometimes, love tears us apart.”
CHAPTER 8
Piper
Two weeks on the road, and Kaye has avoided me at every turn. Which is annoying because I only asked the groupie to tour with me to get on Kaye’s nerves. Make her crack like a pinata.