Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (18 page)

“You don’t seem to get it, no matter how many different ways I try to put this to you.” Dave was flat out pissed off . “The fat bitch is bad for our publicity.”

All of the women standing with Cece gasped in disbelief as The Boobs and her friends “ooh’ed” and then giggled. She couldn’t believe these women were actually enjoying another woman being berated and yelled at like this.

Nick was turning red from his anger. “The fat bitch is, first, not fat, and second only a bitch to you. Third, she’s my girlfriend and my fucking muse. That entire fucking album we’re almost ready to record in the space of a month is all songs she inspired. So if you think for an instant this woman I’ve got tucked in my arm is bad for publicity, you’re a big asshole than any of us thought.”

“I’m going to make sure that Quentin throws her out, and she can’t ever come back.”

Nick stepped up to him. “I will see your ass in the street and out of my band before you can even take the first step toward Quentin if you think you’re going to do that. Quentin thinks you’re as much of an asshole as I do.” He pointed at the five girls standing there. “If a single one of those things step out of line just once tonight, I will hand you your ass on a silver platter and tell you to tongue-fuck your own asshole and like it. And then I will open the door and spill all of your asses out into the cold and out of the band.” Dave opened his mouth to find Nick’s finger in his face. “One step, Dave. Just one. They keep their hands off me, and they don’t talk to Morgan.”

Dave stared at him, then quietly spoke. “You wouldn’t dare kick me out of the band. You could never find someone to replace me.”

“Try me, dickmitt.” Nick stared him down.

“Try me too, fartknocker.”

Everyone jumped. Vatori was standing against the wall, arms folded, watching the whole thing go down. No one had realized he was there. Cece saw Lisa sigh and watch him like a hawk as his every muscle rippled, moving closer to Morgan.

“Dave, if you haven't been able to figure it out, you've been skating on thin ice with all of us for the past few months. You're not gaining any point by pulling this doorman shit.”

“
Look at her!!
” he yelled pointing to Morgan.

Vatori turned his head and out and out ogled Morgan. She was a beautiful woman—hips and curves and generous breasts. Full lips, chocolate brown eyes and hair. Cece knew she was drunk because she had the sudden urge to do naughty things to her, and she didn’t normally find that women caught her interest. Surprising everyone, most of herself, Morgan stepped out of Nick's arms and struck a pose.

Everyone, including Cece, offered up a clap of appreciation.

“What about her?” Vatori asked. “Look at those tits. How Nick isn't latch on right now making himself at home I don't know. They're scrumptious.” On cue, Nick grabbed her, pulled her in, stuck his face in her cleavage and started motorboating her. Morgan enjoyed it, laughing loudly.

“You know what's even more sexy than her tits?” Chantal offered. “The way he looks at her. The way he eats her up with his eyes. The way he's not afraid to offer her a public Brunski.”

“She is fat!” Dave’s anger was consuming. “She can't even shop at a normal store! How is she attractive at all? None of our fans want to see this vat of lard wobbling around with our entourage! She's probably just as stupid as she fat. She's going to wreck the whole band and our look. You need to lose the fat whore.”

“Don’t you dare call my sister a fat whore!” Nicole screamed at the top of her lungs. Cece could see the damage was done. Morgan slumped, and tried not to cry. She stepped up to Dave and slapped him across the face, hard. The sound echoed in the hall and no one moved until they realized a few seconds later that Morgan was running away, out of the building.

“Morgan!” Nick broke into his own run, trailing after her.

Vatori turned and looked at Dave. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s
fat.
”

“Ript, Van, take care of this shit,” he said, waving over the other two members of the band. “I have to go make sure that Nick doesn’t let her get away.” Vatori turned and headed for the door to follow behind the fleeing couple.

Cece watched as The Boobs and her friends closed in on Dave. She looked over at Emmy and the two of them, in unspoken agreement stepped up to stand with Van and Ript staring at Dave. He glowered at the four for them standing there, and finally spoke. “You know she’s fat. She’s ruining our image.”

“The only person ruining our image, Dave, is
you
,” Ript explained. “Leave. Get out of here before Nick comes back and removes your balls. He’s going to, and you know it.”

“I’m the only one who brings women worth a damn back here,” he snapped.

“Take the bimbos and leave,” Emmy growled.

Cece pulled Emmy back. This was her party; she shouldn’t be handling this. She pushed between two of the women. “You’re leaving, now.”

“Who are you, telling me what to do?” He gave her stink eye.

Cece stepped up into his face. “I am someone you don’t want to fuck with. You are taking these women and their bad enhancements, and you are leaving. Now. You are not going to ruin this night any further with your stupid, shortsighted, puerile idiocy on the state of my friend’s body.  Pack your shit and get out. Get me?”

Dave stared at her, confused by his reaction to her command. Cece didn’t do it often--pull out her Domme in the real world--but this ass was not going to ruin their night. This was a hiccup, a bump they could get over and get back to drinking and having fun if she could get him to leave.

He finally broke the stare and looked around at the five women, and Cece could see they were confused by this as well. Dave moved, clearly deciding that getting away from the situation was the best option at that point. “Come on, ladies. I know a better place to party where we don’t have to party with all these whale watchers.”

Nicole surged forward, and Cece caught her with a flick of the arm. Emmy leaned in, and Cece heard her whisper, “Don’t engage him, Nicki. He’s not worth it.”

Dave shoved through the crowd and the group of hangers-on followed him. He motioned them to wait for him while he ducked into the room. The group of women that Cece was with—nine of them—and two men, stared hard at the women while they waited for him. Cece could tell the women were uncomfortable and it was no less than they deserved. They had stood by while Dave insulted another woman.

“Starfuckers,” Rachelle mumbled.

“What?” Ally asked, quietly.

“Starfuckers,” Rachelle repeated. “Star collectors? Same thing.”

“What does that even mean?” Nicki asked.

“Come on, I’m not that much older than you are,” Rachelle laughed. “They are people who hang on to famous people, sleep with them, and move on. Star collector.”

“Who thought of that?” Ally asked.

“The Monkees,” Ript said.

“Who?”

Rachelle cuffed Ally on the side of the head. “Really? Your sister is a musical genius and you don’t know who the Monkees are?”

Nicki and Ally looked at each other, turned back to Rachelle, and answered, “Nope.”

“Get the hell out of here,” Van laughed. “Go. Get out!”

“She could take the last train to Clarksville,” Cece suggested.

The tension in the group flowed out at her suggestion, and everyone started laughing. The other five women standing there couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on, and Dave looked even more angry when he walked out of the dressing room to all the people there laughing. The women followed him and his guitar case down the hall to where the door was hanging open, and headed out of the building. He motioned the women ahead of him, and Heather stepped forward.

“Hey, Dave!” she called.

He turned, and as if they were all of one mind, everyone standing there flipped him the middle finger. Cece laughed with the group as Dave slammed the door behind himself, impotently. It immediately popped back open, but he didn’t care. He just kept walking.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Emmy said. “Now. Where is Morgan and where are our drinks? In that order!”

“How’s the case going?” Cece asked.

Emmy hiccupped. “What case?”

“Lance and Eric?”

“OH! Jesus, I am drunk,” Emmy admitted. “I was so preoccupied all day with Paul and ma mere, it didn’t even occur to me you were talking about that.”

Cece, Morgan and Emmy were outside of the club, needing a touch of fresh air after all the drinks and drunken chatter. Cece gestured with her bottle. “What’s going on with them?”

“I’m putting them on the Montenegro Estate paperwork. Deed. I couldn’t fucking believe Uncle Charlie never told me I had a goddamn three million dollar estate in Montenegro. And a fucking trust set up to take care of it. I didn’t know dad had that kind of money. Saya and I are going to go over there in a few weeks and check the place out. I’ve never been, and she hasn’t been in twelve years.”

“That’s so cool,” Morgan said. “You have an estate in Montenegro. That sounds… classy.”

“What about the others? Lance, Eric…Jillian?” Cece asked. After seeing what Lance and Eric had been up to
that
day nearly killing Nathaniel, she really wanted to know.

Emmy put her head back after taking a sip of her drink. “Okay let’s see. Jillian plead nolo contendere, and she was given two years on the kidnapping, and a bunch of minor stuff. Once again, Lance had sweet talked a woman into thinking he was a great guy even if he was planning a kidnapping and murder. She said--and both Nathaniel and I believed her-- she didn’t think Lance would kill me.

Emmy continued after another sip “Eric is in for fraud, extortion, child endangerment, accomplice to attempted murder after the fact, and just a crap ton of other stuff that Hagberg has found against him. He’s pleading guilty to enough of it that he won’t see the light of day for about fifteen years. And I have a permanent restraining order on him.” She shrugged. “Not that the order will actually do much, but it’s a legal step that needs to exist.”

Emmy paused and ran her finger over the rim of her glass for a moment. “Lance. Fucking Lance. He’s up for attempted murder one, extortion, fraud, terrorism, terroristic threats, industrial espionage and, best of all, three counts of murder one. Once he heard all the charges brought against him, and realized everyone at the party saw him try to kill Nathaniel and kidnap Sylvia and me, he gave up Tash’s body, and two others he had killed and dumped. He’s got life. He’s three times life, plus fifty or so when you get all the other stuff added in. He will never see the light of day again. Amen. Rot in hell, you asshole.”

Emmy spit on the ground.

Cece was taken a little aback by her virulent curse, but at the same time, Lance Dayton had almost murdered her fiancé and had wanted to murder her. Cece and Morgan exchanged glances, both taking a sip of their respective drinks, then Morgan cleared her throat.

“So. Does Nathaniel let you spank him?”

Cece nearly choked on her beer. Emmy laughed hard, and Morgan looked confused and possibly as drunk as Emmy. Cece finally managed to swallow the beer and really laugh. “Morgan. What the hell possessed you to ask that?”

Morgan looked at the glass in her hand. “About four Long Island Iced Teas and six beers.” She turned to look at Emmy again. “Come on, it’s just the three of us for some fresh air. Spill.”

Emmy raised a finger and cleared her throat. “It’s only because I like you and I’m asbtolutfely shiffaced that you’re getting this out of me.” She took a sip of the cosmo in her hand. “Yes. All the time.”

Morgan whooped and tried to high-five Cece. Cece wasn’t sober either and when the hand came at her, she moved out of the way, and Morgan managed to slap her shoulder instead. Emmy snorted, and that started a whole new round of laughing.

Cece regained herself first. “
Nathaniel Walsh
lets you tie him up.”

“Tie him up, tie him down, flip it, smack it, rub it, tease it, withhold it, ride it and suck it,” she listed. “I’m sure I mished one.”

“Totally serious?” Morgan asked.

“Why would I lie about tying up my fiancé?” Emmy giggled. “He is fucking aaaaah-mazing in so many different ways. I don’t think we’ve had sex without about four orgasms yet. And let me tell you… teashing him how to spank me and use all the toys? Un. Fucking. Believable. He put a blindfold on me the other night and I’m not going to tell you another thing about that, but holy shizz.” She pointed to her breasts. “He worships these puppies, and damn. Damn. I am sho glad I didn’t let anyone else near them before him. They wouldn’t know how to handle them.”

“He’s not threatened by you taking over?” Morgan was genuinely curious.

“Psssht.” Emmy waved a nonchalant hand. “What’s to be threatened about? He likes it. He knows he’s going to get his, and I get mine. A real man can take it tied up. A real man knows exactly what he wants in the sack and likes it when his woman does too.”

“You’re not just in the sack.” Cece mumbled.

“You’re absolutely correct,” Emmy said, like a game show host. “He likes the shower. I like… uh. Yeah. Let’s not,” she paused to belch politely, “go there.” She looked over at Morgan. “And like you’ve got room to talk. Where did you go before?”

Morgan grinned. “I had to prove my bj prowess to my boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Did you really fall off the piano?” Cece asked.

“Augh! Nicole!” Morgan yelled.

The three of them collapsed in laughter against the wall as the door creaked open and a head popped out and gazed around. A moment later the rest of Donovan appeared from behind the door. “Ladies.”

They all started laughing again, and Van seemed very confused. Cece motioned for him to give them a minute. He walked out and let the door close. “What’s going on out here?”

“Girl talk.” Morgan seemed confused for a moment then nodded, assured she had said the right thing.

Cece was a little start struck still; she was hanging out with local celebrities and had been let into the inner circle. Morgan was already used to it so it was easier for her to recover. “Who are you looking for?”

“Sal, actually,” he answered.

“He’s probably off macking with Lisa,” Emmy stated.

“Macking?” Cece laughed. “We
need
to update your vocabulary.”

“Are we back to making out?” Emmy hiccupped. “Because I really do prefer that.”

“Yes, I think that’s fine,” Morgan said, coming off another sip of her Long Island Iced Tea.

“Oh, Emmy!” came a scream from inside. The door flew open again. Ally popped her head out and found the four of them standing there. “Emmy, your lover is here to pick us up.”

Emmy hiccupped again. “Don’t… don’t call him that. I hate that word.” She drank the remainder of her cosmo as shot and held the glass out for Cece to take. “I have to go home. It’s past my curfew. I sure hoping there’s going to be punishment.”

“Gawd!!” Ally cried and banged the door shut. They still heard her. “Insatiable! You two are insatiable!”

Cece caught Van laughing and shaking his head. “You are all bananas with the sex, aren’t you?”

“Every last one,” Cece answered.

Van looked at Morgan. “By the way, Oliver totally realized what was going on backstage. He hung around to torture you.”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open as her face flushed red. Cece found herself trying not to laugh again. “No! Oh my God, why? Why couldn’t you just have left that out!”

“Because I like to see you utterly embarrassed,” Van answered with a shrug. “You and Nick are out of control for each other and it’s fun to watch.”

Morgan was hiding her face in her hands. “Why, why did you share.”

“Oh, poor Wisconsin--” Cece started.

The door popped open again, and Nick’s head popped out. “Hey, kitten. There you are. I have to steal you for a while. Emmy, Nathaniel is looking for you out front.”

“We’ve been informated.” Morgan hiccupped. “Excuse me ladies, my man wants some attention.” Cece and Emmy laughed her off, but Emmy suddenly dove for Morgan and wrapped her around her. “Thank you so much for such an awesome, incredible night of drunken normalcy!”

“You’re welcome,” Morgan laughed. “We’ll do this more oftener.”

“You’re next so, yeah.” Emmy laughed. Morgan cuffed her shoulder, and Emmy staggered back a step, laughing hard. Nick held the door wide, and Morgan walked in--but not before she slammed Nick into the wall, kissing him hard. She continued her walk into the building and Nick’s smirk took over his face as he glanced at Cece, Emmy and Van. He waggled his eyebrows and followed her a moment later.

Cece looked at Emmy, and shrugged. “I’m drunk enough to ask. Is your sister gay?”

Emmy nodded a bit. “There’s a ninety percent chance of that.”

“She hasn’t come out yet?”

“Not to me,” Emmy said. “I’m not even sure she knows yet. She’s just fifteen. It’ll happen when it happens.” Emmy took a sip off the last of her drink. “The bigger question, I think is if Rachelle knows she’s gay.”

Cece bobbed her head. “You’re right about that. She’s in a hetro contract, isn’t she?”

“Yup.” Emmy nodded. “I mean, she could be bi.”

“With the way she gravitated straight to your sister?” Cece asked. “She didn’t even give this hot ass a second look.” She hooked her thumb at Van. “And not looking at the hot asses in this band is just a crime against humanity if you’re hetero.”

Emmy leaned back and took a solid look at Van’s ass. “True.” Van gave her the side eye as Emmy and Cece started laughing. “Somedays, I think it’s sin I’m engaged. Then I tie my husband up, and I remember why I am.”

“Ally’s right,” Van said. “Insatiable.”

“You just hope you can find a woman you can’t keep up with,” Emmy smiled. “Are you--”

Van hand shot up, silencing them. Almost as if someone had throw a switch, they were completely quite and listening. Cece felt her buzz die down a bit as the night’s quiet surrounded them.

Then they all heard it.

“…no…”

Faint and quiet, but close by, it was a woman’s tone. They could hear a half-assed struggle going on, somewhere near. Van put a finger to his lips and he headed for the corner of the building. Cece followed with Emmy just next to her. She could tell Emmy was a lot more sober than a moment before as well.

As they got to the corner of the building, the struggle became clear, but no louder. The pleas to stop were muddied in an alcoholic haze and the sounds were all muffled. “No, stop, stop. Don’t. Please.”

“You’re so drunk you won’t remember in the morning.” Distinctly a male voice, gruff and hopped up on emotion of some sort, Cece didn’t like it—and saw the realization of what was going on slide over their faces at the same time.

Donovan vaulted out from behind the corner of the building before Cece or Emmy could grab him. The only thing they could do was follow him around into the darkness there. There was a light above the trash bin, which was now over-flowing, and it created hard shadows on the ground. The sound of the struggle came from the other, darker side of the bin, and they followed Van around.

What they found was a total nightmare.

A hulking mass of humanity with a black hoodie was kneeling on the ground between a woman’s legs. Her pants had been ripped down. Not off, but down and out of the way. His hands were on his erection as he tugged on it, not even realizing the three of them had come bounding over. The woman had two swollen eyes, a broken nose and split lip. She couldn’t see for the swelling, and was just rolling her head back and forth whimpering.

Van drop-kicked the guy in the side of the head while Emmy stepped back and pulled out her cell phone. Cece ran over to the woman and yanked her up and out of the way, against the wall of the building. Van’s kick had startled the would-be rapist and he had hit the ground hard, his head echoing. It didn’t take him down for good though, and a moment later the hulking mass of humanity stood and slowly turned to face them.

A car squealed around the building, distracting them, and two men tumbled out of it. “Emmy!” one of them screamed—distinctly Nathaniel’s voice—and they ran over to where they were standing.

While Van was distracted, the would-be rapist elbow dropped his shoulder and knocked him back and away. Upon seeing Nathaniel and the large man with him, the hooded figure turned and started running into the dark of the parking lot behind the building. Nathaniel waved his companion after him as he raced for Emmy. Cece held the injured and totally inebriated woman as Van dropped down next to them.

“Are you all right?” Nathaniel asked, grabbing Emmy and pulling her close.

“I’m fine, fine,” she managed through her inebriation. “I knew you had Quinn with you, that’s why I called you back here.”

Van was running his hands over the woman, examining her. She was squirming and crying and trying to get away from his touch. Cece leaned down. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothed. “We’re here to help. Donovan is just checking for broken bones. I’m Cece. Relax.”

Nathaniel had his phone to his ear, and was chatting with what Cece assumed was the 911 operator. She looked at Van, and he had a look of some relief on his face. “Nothing broken,” he offered. “But she been beaten hard. There’s probably internal injury.”