The Mighty Storm (The Storm #1)
Page 32I’m quick to my feet, following after him.
“Jake, wait,” I call.
He stops just shy of the bedroom door, and turns back to face me. “Will you tell him today or not?”
I let out a light breath, wrapping my arms around myself. “I will tell him, but I can’t today,” I shake my head. “Not today. Please try to understand.”
Moving forward, I reach for him, but he shakes his head, no.
The rejection from him hurts more than I ever realised it could.
He walks out of the bedroom heading for the main door.
“Don’t leave like this, please,” I say, desperation in my voice, catching hold of his hand from behind.
He stares down at my hand in his. The look on his face makes me let go.
“I’m not the other guy, Tru.”
“I know, and I will tell him, I promise you.”
He looks down at the floor. “Are you going to bring him to the show?”
I press my lips together. “I can’t go to it and leave him and Simone here.”
“No. I guess you can’t.” His tone is sardonic.
“Do you not want me to come to the show? I can make up some excuse why–”
“No. Bring him to the fuckin’ show. I don’t care.”
Then it’s like an like an invisible force field settles down in-between us.
“I’ll do whatever’s easiest for you, Jake.”
“No you won’t. Telling him the truth is what would be easiest for me.” He gives me a firm stare.
I look away, ashamed that he’s right. Right that I won’t tell Will.
“Just do whatever you want, Tru. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
Then he’s gone and the door is slamming behind him, and I’m left alone, knowing I have to pull myself together and go downstairs to face Will. To act like everything is okay, when it couldn’t be any further from okay.
I glance down at the two bracelets on my wrist from the two men I love.
Now I just have to figure out which one I’m going to take off.
Chapter Seventeen
The show is insanely good.
I haven’t seen Jake since this morning. He’s avoiding me for obvious reasons.
I know it’s hurting him Will being here, and I hate it. I can’t stand the thought of Jake being in pain in general, but when it’s because of me it’s a thousand times worse.
I wish I could make it better for him. But right now I feel like I’m caught between a rock – Jake – and a hard place – Will.
For a change, I’m out front watching the show with Will and Simone. I thought it would be better than stage side for obvious reasons, and Stuart very kindly sorted me out some fantastic seats for the three of us.
We’re seated close to the stage with a clear view of the guys, and well maybe saying seated is wrong because Simone and I haven’t sat down since the show started.
It’s hard not to fall into the pull of the show, because Jake and the guys are on fire.
I’m just glad I wore my floral print cami top and blue denim skirt as it’s crazy hot in here tonight.
And I don’t think the heat is helping with my wrecking ball nerves, but then I’ve been this way all day.
I’m trying to keep thoughts of what happened this morning out of my head and to focus on Will, but it’s difficult, especially here now looking at Jake, looking so beautiful up on the stage.
Jake finishes up singing one of the new hits, ‘Pure Thing’ and slows things down to an easy stop.
The stage darkens. The lights killed.
There’s some whistles from the audience, but it’s so silent that you could hear the beating heart of a mouse.
I find myself holding my breath along with everyone else.
Then the spotlight hits Jake.
He looks like a God up there. So beautiful with the world at his feet.
Eighty thousand people and not a single sound to be heard. The stadium waiting, breath baited, to hear what will come out of Jake’s mouth.
A man with the adoration of the world at his feet, and in this moment I can’t exactly figure why he wants me.
Jake steps back from the mike and pulls his cigarettes from out of his back pocket, puts one between his lips, and lights it up.
Blowing the smoke from his mouth, he reaches down and grabs his bottle of beer from the side of his mike stand, taking a long swig from the bottle.
Garnering cheers from the crowd, encouraging him to down the bottle, even Tom is egging him on, so Jake being Jake downs the bottle and tosses it to the ground in front of the stage, as the crowd cheers.
I can tell he’s already been drinking a lot, that’s apparent enough.
He takes another drag of his cigarette and steps up to the mike.
The whole stadium is silent, once again, in anticipation of what Jake will say next.
He exhales his smoke as he leans into the mike, and starts to speak, “Okay,” he runs his hand through his hair, looking contemplative. “I know the guys are going to kill me for this … but I’m thinking of maybe mixing things up a bit, doing something a little different.” Jake leans back from his mike, looking at Tom with a question on his face, covering his mike with his smoking hand.
Tom wanders over to him, bass in hand. Jake says something in his ear. Tom looks up surprised, then nods once, at Jake.
The room is abuzz, the crowd wondering just what’s going on.
Tom jumps down from the kit and goes over and speaks to Smith.
Smith looks across at Jake and gives him a quick nod.
Tom walks back past Jake, putting his hand on his shoulder, he speaks briefly in his ear. I see Jake laugh, as Tom walks away.
Jake looks back out at the crowd. “Okay folks, sorry about that.” His beautiful voice echoes around the stadium. “We’re going for a song change, but one I think you guys will dig. We’re doing something a little different – it’s not one of ours. This song was out around the time that we were breaking into the music scene, and these were guys we admired – still do. It’s a personal favourite of mine.”
He takes another drag of cigarette.
“So all you ladies out there … no, actually guys too, how many of you have had your heart broken?”
Every hand in the whole place goes up.
“I’ve had my heart broken too, believe it or not, quite recently in fact,” he says.
Oh God.
“I’ll mend it for you, Jake!” cries a female voice from the audience.
Jake chuckles into the mike. “I might have to take you up on that, honey.”
“Say when and where, and I’ll be there baby!” yells the woman.
Then a collection of female voices all start screaming, vying for Jake’s attention.
My throat is starting to get tight. I’m nervous and on edge, to know where he’s going with this. I know he can be unpredictable at times, especially when he’s been drinking.
“Okay,” he lifts his hand quietening the crowd. “So tell me out of all those broken hearts, how many of them was because your guy or girl cheated on you?”
Holy shit.
Some of the hands go down.
“Bad shit, huh?” he says into the mike.
“Okay…” He takes another drag of his cigarette and drops it to the floor, putting it out with his boot. “How many of these hands up, have ever in their time, been … a cheater too?”
My heart drops through the floor. I can’t believe he’s doing this in front of eighty thousand people.
A huge majority of the hands go down. I bind my together in front of me.
I sneak a glance at Will, but he’s watching the show.
I can’t even look at Simone. I haven’t really had chance to talk to her about Jake. I gave her a brief overview while Will was in the toilet, but catching Jake in the bathroom attached to my bedroom, told her all she needed to know.
She’s not judging, and I love her for that, but she did say I need to make a decision. And she’s right, I do.
“Okay, well this song is for all of you who have been cheated on,” Jake continues. “And also for the ones they cheated with. The ones of you who were used and abused, filled with a shit load of promises, then left hanging dry. This one is for you guys...”
Denny hits the cymbals twice, Smith kicks in with the guitar, and Jake leans into the mike and starts to sing.
My whole body freezes cold, as he lullaby’s the lyrics to The Killers, ‘Mr Brightside’.
Holy fuck.
So he’s not only just talked about adultery in front of eighty thousand people, he’s now singing about it.
Singing about a guy who believes his girlfriend is having an affair.
He’s trying to tell Will. He’s trying to get Will thinking.
And in this moment, I’m filled with absolute anger toward Jake.
Then, as if reading my thoughts, he tilts his head to the side, staring straight in my direction, I didn’t realise he even knew where I was sitting.
I thought I at least had some anonymity.
Apparently not.
Now I’m standing here, open wide to whatever he chooses to throw at me. And I can’t move, I’m paralysed, as he openly sings in my direction.
Anger burns through me, turning to rage and fear.
He’s no right to do this. It’s up to me to tell Will, in my own time. It’s just cruel playing shitty games like this.
I’m just praying on the fact that Will doesn’t get music like we do. He doesn’t read the messages in lyrics.
I want to look at Will, I need to know if he’s seeing this or I’m right, like I’m praying and he doesn’t.
But I can’t move because I’m trapped in Jake’s stare. Like a rabbit in the headlights of a very beautiful truck, careening its way toward me.
I’m so very afraid at the game he’s playing, and I get a distinct feeling this is just the start of tonight’s games.
And when Jake does finally release me from his gaze, singing back to his adoring fans, I steal a glance at Will, and find he’s just watching the stage, completely oblivious as to what has just transpired up there.
Then I feel Simone’s hand take hold of mine.
I turn my head to look at her. She gives me a sad smile, then rests her head against my shoulder, as the song finally comes to an end. Jake finishing my first torture of the night
And I keep hold of her hand for the rest of the show.
After the show, I head straight to the after show party with Will and Simone. Ben had kindly offered to drive us, so we ride through the streets of Paris in his safe hands. He drops up off out front, with the offer to pick us up later, but I wave his kind gesture off and tell him to get back to the hotel and chill out for the night.
Showing my pass to the security we’re waved in.
We quickly grab a table, and I ensure it’s one with a good view of the door, so I can see when Jake arrives.