Hell Bent (Rock Bottom #1) (11 page)

I shouldn’t be here... I shouldn’t be here...  Why the fuck are you here, Bennett?

The fact that I know I shouldn’t be pulling down Abby’s driveway just makes the fact that I am even worse. Stepping out of my truck, I drop my cell phone on the seat beside me and grab the envelope from Izzy. 

Tugging my hat off my head, I tuck it brim first into my back pocket and jog up the stairs. I don’t even have a chance to knock before Jameson rips the door open.

“What are you doing here?” he growls.
Why is he angry with me? I didn’t do shit.

“I need to talk with Izzy, and this is where Willow told me she was.”

“She’s not here.”

“Really, because I’m parked right next to her truck.”

“Unavailable,” he bites out, attempting to close the door in my face but Abby quickly steps in the way.

“That’s enough, Jameson.”

“I’m not here to cause problems,” I explain, stepping back a few steps when he balls his fists by his sides. I seriously have no clue why he is upset with me. I’m the one that should be pissed off here.

Using what seems to be every ounce of strength in her, Abby pushes Jameson out of the way and closes him inside. Huffing in aggravation at the door, she steps away and slides up onto the porch railing.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just upset about everything that happened and he’s taking it out on the wrong people.” Her eyes drop to her hands before drifting toward the building that houses their studio.

“I don’t even know what actually happened. I’m all too familiar with how tabloids misconstrue things and she refuses to talk to me. So can you please fill me in?”

Pursing her lips, she denies me the only thing I’ve wanted for weeks: answers. 

“Abby, I’ve talked to her once since I’ve been gone. Fuckin’ hell, she had Meg tell me I was going on tour and needed to be ready to go the next day. She refuses to see me, refuses to answer my calls, and she avoids my questions when I break down and email her. Then she goes ahead and sets me up with this crack-ass manager that I had never even met let alone know if he’s any good.”

“She’d never set you up with anyone that wasn’t good.”

“I know,” I admit. “But that’s not my point.” Dragging my hands through my hair, I lean back against the side of the house and try to calm the aggravation I’ve had pent up inside for the past month. “She agreed to work with me directly, but the second something happened that she didn’t like, she bolted. I just want to hash things out—like why the fuck she gave me permission to cut the song that started this shit—and get everything back on track so we can start recording again while I’m home.” 

“I can’t tell you anything, Bennett. It isn’t my place, and who knows what the hell she is doing in there since she kicked us all out, but Izzy is in the studio.” I step away from her without waiting to hear if she has anything else to say. Grabbing the collar of my shirt, Abby pulls me to a stop so I have to listen. “If you upset her you’re gonna have to have to deal with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod, keeping eye contact until she finally decides to lets me go.

Bolting off the stairs, I race across the driveway and am inside the entrance to the studio before I can even think about what I’m doing or what I’m going to say. When I step through the door, the last thing I expect is to see Izzy sitting in a chair in the booth behind the mic. With one hand wrapped around the back of her neck and the other tangled in the hair on top of her head, she belts out the words. They sound familiar, but it takes me a minute to realize that they are lyrics from her father’s book. I watch, completely mesmerized as she sings with tears pouring from her closed eyes. It’s heartbreaking, yet completely incredible. When she finally opens her eyes and notices me, she slaps her hand down on the portable mixer beside her and the track stops, leaving us in deafening silence until she speaks.

“You don’t know how to take a hint, do you?”

I slam my hand down on the microphone button so she can hear me. “Not without an explanation.”

“What the hell do you want an explanation for?”

Dropping down into the chair, I scrub my free hand down my face. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you’re ignoring me. Or maybe why you shoved me into a tour and leaked my song without even letting me know you were doing it.”

“Because people needed to know what they were getting from you so you didn’t do the one thing you were afraid of: tanking,” she cuts me off, wiping her face dry. “I told you I would do everything I could to make sure that didn’t happen, and I am.”

“You’re right, you did. But you’re not doing it with me like we agreed.”

“I can’t,” she whispers softly but the microphone picks up every bit of agony in her voice. The sadness seeps into my heart, making me want to do anything I can to take it away. Even with tear-stained cheeks, messy hair, and her oversized sweater, she’s fucking beautiful. 

“Yes you can, you just refuse to admit what I already know.”

Izzy drops her head into her hands, hiding her face from me. “You don’t know anything.”

“I know that you refuse to work with me because that kiss scared the hell out of you. You’d rather shut me out than figure out what the hell there is between us.”

Her head shoots up, looking at me like she didn’t expect me to bring it up. There is no way I couldn’t bring it up; it’s all I fucking think about, and if it wasn’t for this wall between us right now I would try it again. I don’t give a damn about her age anymore or who she is—I’ve never had someone stuck in my head like this.

“You think you can’t because you’re scared.”

“You’re fucking right I’m scared,” she yells. “I’m scared because my life is falling apart. I’m a fucking disaster, and I don’t want to bring you down with me.” Standing up quickly, the chair tumbles to the floor behind her and my eyes follow the path her hands take to her slightly swollen stomach.
When the hell did that happen?
As I’ve come to notice she always does, she attempts to cover the way she truly feels with anger. When I move to go into the booth so I can be closer to her, she stops me. “The press would eat you alive if they knew you were getting into bed with the girl who not only keeps fucking up her own life, but put the life of her baby on the line. The baby, by the way, that was fathered by your best friend the night I turned eighteen. Single-baby-momma-drama doesn’t fit into your schedule.”

“Greg? Are you sure?”

“Haven’t slept with anyone since then.”

I want to hit something, anything, to take away the growing anger inside of me. The fact that Greg’s baby is growing inside of the girl I’m falling for is killing me, but knowing she hasn’t slept with anyone since is good to know.

“Does he know?” I finally ask. Her answer doesn’t really matter to me, but I need to know if they’re going to try to work something out for the baby. I want her, pregnant or not, but I won’t step on the toes of my friend.

Izzy nods. “Called him before I even left the hospital.”

“What did he say?”

“I think his exact words were ‘I’ll never claim the baby of a dirty whore’.”

Every bit of irritation I was feeling toward her for ignoring me turns to rage at the man I have considered my friend for over fifteen years. How could someone I considered a friend, who I thought was a good guy, turn out to be such a piece of shit? I slam my fists against the console and try to breathe through the need to find Greg. It doesn’t work, I doubt anything would work, and as much as I want to stay here and figure things out with Izzy, I can’t.

I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’m across town and on Greg’s road. Every traffic law known was probably broken on the way, but I didn’t get pulled over and that’s all that matters. Throwing the truck in park, I jump out and race toward the building, not caring at all that I’m parked half on the lawn. I bang my fist roughly against the door until he finally answers it. 

Before he has a chance to open his mouth, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward—directly into my fist. It doesn’t take him long to recover and retaliate, but as quickly as I can, I spin us and tackle him to the ground. Pinning his arms under my knees, I let my rage about what he said to Izzy come out in the form of punches to his face while screaming at him. I don’t stop until someone pulls me off, forcing me face down with my arms pinned behind me and handcuffs are snapping around my wrists.

“All this over what? A bitch?” Greg screams at me, spitting blood out of his mouth.

I turn my head to the side so I can see him and am pretty damn happy with the damage I did to his face. “You son-of-a-bitch, you’re so
god
damn lucky that I’m in cuffs right now because I would rip your fucking dick off so you couldn’t screw over anybody else.”

Spitting blood from his mouth again, he shakes his head. Looping their arms through mine, the officers pull me to my feet. “She’s a dirty whore, Bennett. One that I would never fucking admit to sleeping with. Remember that when you think about the fact that you just ruined a lifelong friendship over her.”

“Considering you’re the last person to touch her and you’re calling her a dirty whore, you might wanna take a look at your own hands.”

I’m not exactly sure how long I’ve stood here after Bennett stormed out, but I know it’s been too long. For the longest time, I can’t even catch my breath because I am crying so hard. It isn’t until Abby steps through the door that I manage to slightly pull myself together.

“So based off the tears in your eyes and the way he tore ass out of here, I’m gonna take a shot in the dark here and say that didn’t go how you hoped.”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. Bending, I pick up the chair and settle back into it, tucking my legs up under me. Abby settles on the floor in front of me and leans back on her hands, waiting for me to continue. “It didn’t go as planned, I know that for sure. I yelled, he told me I was scared, and I wasn’t very nice when I told him I was pregnant. For half a second he looked like he was OK with it, as weird as that is, but then he asked what Greg said and when I told him, he went ballistic.”

“You told him what his best friend called you?”

“I’m not going to lie to him, Abby. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

She laughs and when I glare at her it only makes her laugh harder. “Pretty girl, you don’t see it, do you?”

“My stupidity? Yes, I do. It stares back at me every time I look in the mirror.”

“Mistakes don’t make you stupid, baby. I was referring to the fact that he’s falling for you.”

“No, he’s not. I promise, and even if he was it doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t matter because it would never work between us. If our age doesn’t tear us apart, our lifestyles will. Or perhaps the fact that I’m carrying another man’s baby.

Abby begins to say something but my phone rings, cutting her off. “Blocked Caller” flashes across my screen so I slide my finger to answer it. As soon as I say hello an automated voice asks me if I would be willing to accept charges for a collect call. I plan on hanging up and ignoring it, thinking it’s a wrong number, until Bennett’s voice comes on and tells me who it is.

“What’s wrong?” Abby asks. I hold up my finger and accept the call.

“Jail?” I yell. “You were here less than a half hour ago!”

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes, Izzy.” His voice is muffled—making him sound like he has something covering his mouth—but even through that I can hear a tinge of smartass in his answer.

“Did you call me just so you could make me yell at you again? Yelling stresses me out, Bennett. Did you know that stress is bad for a pregnant woman?”

The line goes silent for a minute, and I can almost picture his face falling like it did when he was here, making me regret my words.

“Can you please come bail me out, and I will pay you back the second we leave?” he mutters, sighing quietly when he finishes talking

“Don’t you have a manager or a friend or family member that can come get you?”

“Probably, but I called you.”

I want to say no. I
should
say no. Nothing about this situation can be good but I can’t seem to make the correct words come out of my mouth. When I tell him that I’ll be right there and hang up, I blame it solely on the hormones. I don’t even give Abby a chance to tell me not to go or tell her what is going on before I grab my stuff and head for the truck.