Confessions (Tattoos & Tears Book 3) Read online

  “Hi, and I’m not beautiful, I’m Peyton.”

  The rest of the boys erupt with laughter. Feisty and hot...Fuck me, I am in so much trouble. I can feel my dick harden in my trousers. Fuck, this isn’t good. I want to feel the way she feels beneath me, I need her beautiful breasts pressed against my chest; I need to hear her scream my name, and I need to see her look into my eyes as I bring her to orgasm. Fuck me, where did that come from? Focus, dickhead. Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts.

  She extends her hand to me, and I take it in my tattooed one. I feel electricity shoot through my veins, feeling her tiny hand in mine and I can’t fucking breathe. I swallow hard and clear my throat before I can speak. Get your head in the game, Newbolt.

  “I’m Sam.”

  I reluctantly let go of her hand because I like feeling her soft hand in mine and I can’t take my eyes off her. Five feet three inches tall, tattooed, long, shoulder length, dark brown hair with purple streaks and the bluest eyes I have ever seen. They remind me of sparkling sapphires. She has a lip piercing and the most beautiful smile that make those stunning eyes of hers dance. My thoughts are interrupted by Jax.

  “You got owned by a girl, Sammy!”

  He takes her hand and kisses the back.

  “I’m Jax; any girl that can shoot down our Sammy, is definitely the girl of my dreams!”

  She laughs, which is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in all my twenty-nine years. Back off, Jax. She’s mine, fucker. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is going to be mine, I will make damn fucking sure of it.

  “I’m Peyton, pleased to meet you, Jax.”

  She smiles, and I think the ice I had around my heart starts to melt after all these years. Seb moves to stand next to her, as if he is her bodyguard or something. Is she fucking him? Are they together? Fuck me, I hope not, I clench my fists at my side. Rein it in, Newbolt; she isn’t yours...yet.

  “We should get started, babe. You take Jax and Sam, and I’ll take Brody and Lucas, is that all good with you?”

  She nods, and her eyes lock with mine. Inwardly, I am doing a very manly victory dance at the prospect of having her hands on me, and with that thought, my dick hardens. I hope to fuck she doesn’t notice, that would be...extremely fucking embarrassing.

  “Yep, that’s all good with me Seb. Do you have designs, or do you want me to draw something up?”

  I could listen to her voice all day. Fucking hell, man up, Newbolt. This most definitely isn’t one of those soppy romance novels that your mum reads. I relax my shoulders and saunter forward confidently.

  “I’ve got a rough idea, but I think I need a second opinion.”

  She smirks, and I begin to wonder what she finds so amusing.

  “Ok, that’s all good with me, Jax what about you?”

  Jax nudges me out of the way, we are always mucking around with each other. I love the boy like a brother, but he should know me well enough by now not to fuck with me where a beautiful woman is concerned. I grab him in a playful headlock and ruffle his precious blonde locks.

  “I’ll get her to tattoo ‘emergency exit’ on your arse if you’re not careful, Jax.”

  We both laugh, eager to entertain her. I want her to feel comfortable around me and not tread on eggshells to try and please me just because I’m a rock star.

  “Bring it on! It can’t be any worse than your lightning bolt.”

  Jax looks at her and leans in close to her. As he gets closer to her, my blood starts boiling and my famous temper spikes. Back the hell up, she’s mine fucker.

  “That’s where he got his band name from; he lost a bet, and he has a lightning bolt tattooed on his arse!”

  He winks cheekily at her. Come on, Newbolt; lay on the charm, with a fucking trowel if you must. Show her you are interested, reel her in.

  “I can show you if you want?” I say in my trademark husky voice, attempting to be flirtatious. I even throw in a cheeky wink. You charming son of a bitch.

  “In your dreams, rock star.”

  My mouth drops open, my dick hardens to the point of pain, and I think I might possibly be close to orgasm. No woman has ever been immune to my charms before, that’s a first. Usually, I bring out the husky voice and the dimples and then bam, they are swooning at my feet. After that, all it takes is a few choice words, and they’re on their backs, legs wide open for me. All the boys erupt with laughter again, and I place my hand on my chest.

  “You’re wounding my ego, sweetheart.”

  Bring out the big guns, Newbolt. I smirk, bringing out my infamous dimples

  “If you want to follow me.”

  Wow, she practically ignored me. I’m going to have to step it up a notch and unquestionably try harder with this one. I can’t let her slip through my fingers; she will be mine whether it fucking kills me...

  14

  Sam

  Present

  “He...he...he told me that you asked him to kidnap me.” She swallows a few times and then continues, “J.D made me believe that you never really loved me at all. He got inside my head and convinced me that you masterminded the whole thing. He said...he said you wanted him to hurt me, to make me suffer, that you wanted me dead, so you and he could finally be together.”

  She closes her eyes as if she’s remembering his words and tears are rolling freely down her cheeks. What the fuck? I can’t believe what I am fucking hearing. She thought I wanted her dead? That I wanted her gone? How could she believe something so sick and fucking twisted? I feel like I have been punched in the gut and that my head is going to explode. I feel like I am about to throw up and I can’t breathe. Fuck me.

  “How could you think that? I went through hell because you died; losing you destroyed me. I would have taken a thousand fucking bullets for you, Peyton. I worshipped the ground you walked on. We were having a baby! We were fucking engaged! I wanted you to be my wife, and we were going to get married. We were supposed to fucking have our happily ever after!”

  I raise my voice a few decibels louder, I can’t help myself. My head is fucking spinning.

  “So, what? Instead of coming to me and fucking asking me if it was true, you what? You decided what he said must be true? You took his fucking word over mine, and you made me carry on thinking you were fucking dead?”

  She scrubs her hands down her face and when she looks up her pained blue eyes lock with mine.

  “I was fucking hurt! I felt like my whole world had crashed down around me. You destroyed me! I was heartbroken, and I thought our relationship was based on a fucking lie, Sam. I was totally crushed when I had some fucking lunatic plunge a knife into my chest whilst telling me that you asked him to fucking do it! What the fuck was I supposed to think? When I eventually got away from him, I was terrified he would come back for me. So I just ran, and I didn’t look back. I wasn’t fucking thinking!”

  She sobs. As I listen to her words, I feel some of the earlier fire and anger I felt before I heard her explanation, leave me. I will never be able to forget what she did, but I think I understand her reason behind it.

  “You have to believe me, I didn’t want this for us, and I definitely didn’t want our baby to start his life like this, Sam.”

  She stops, as if she’s said too much, and my eyes widen. Our baby?

  “What? Whoa! Wait, back up a fucking second, our baby?”

  She nods her head and sobs. What the fucking fuck?

  “Oh God, Sam, I’m so sorry; I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn't have a choice. I had to keep him safe Sam, not just for me but for you.”

  I go to move, and the pain rips through my shoulder.

  “FUCK!” I growl, and she is at my side in a second. She reaches for my hand, but she stops herself, I can’t fucking process this. This is a dream and any second, I am going to wake the fuck up. “I-we...have a baby?” I stutter, and I can’t comprehend what I’m hearing. What the fuck? I clear my throat, and I subtly pinch myself. No, definitely not dreaming. “You had my baby?”<
br />
  She nods and gives me a watery smile.

  “We have a baby boy, Freddie. He’s so, so beautiful, Sam; he looks so much like you. He’s got your eyes.”

  Her blue eyes are filled with so much pride and joy when she speaks of our son. Fuck me, I am someone’s dad.

  15

  Peyton

  Three Nights Ago

  Tonight is Rancid Vengeance’s comeback gig at Madison Square Garden, New York City. I have made the six-hour journey from Santa Monica with Remy Logan, Ruby’s brother, and Freddie. I am currently putting the finishing touches to my outfit. I have styled my sleek red bob poker straight, and I am wearing a black beanie hat. I am also wearing a black vest, leather shorts, black patent Doc Martens, and a bright red Rancid Vengeance hoodie with the band's logo, a skeleton playing a burning guitar on the back of a motorbike, emblazoned across the front. I acquired it while I was on tour with the band all those months ago. I pull it on and roll up the sleeves. Remy has been quiet for the past few days after he reluctantly helped me purchase a ticket for the sold-out show on eBay. We are staying at a hotel close to the venue and Remy is holding Freddie.

  “Are you sure this is the right thing to do, beaut?”

  The truth is, after everything Sam put me through: asking J.D to hurt me, the kidnapping and all the bad things that followed, I want to see him one final time. I want to see him as the rock god I once knew and loved… before I cut him out of my life completely. I have to hear his husky voice over the microphone. I have to watch him while he has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand, and I have to watch the passion in his eyes as he sings to a huge crowd of his adoring fans.

  “We spent all that time and all that fucking money getting you a new identity as Louise Stonebridge from Myles, and you’re just going to fuck it all to hell by showing your face in the one place you shouldn’t be? Which is anywhere near Samson fucking Newbolt. Yeah, real smart move,” he says sarcastically.

  I run a brush through my hair and spin around to face Remy. The pain in his brown eyes makes my heart slam against my rib cage, and I rub at my chest to rid myself of the ache.

  “Babe, I have to do this, I have to lay Sam Newbolt to rest.”

  He takes a breath and laughs bitterly.

  “Just like he fucking laid you to rest?” he spits angrily, and I wince at the cold, harsh tone of his voice.

  “I’ll let that one go because I can see that you’re angry with me, but that was a low fucking blow, Rem, and you damn well know it,” I snap, feeling hurt at Remy’s cruel words. Remy’s never been cruel, not in all the years I have known him.

  “I’m not going to apologise for caring, beaut. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn and if I was a prick, but after everything that motherfucker put you through, I get that you still have feelings for him but...”

  He stops himself, puffs out his cheeks, and closes his eyes, as if to rid himself of his previous thought.

  “No, I don’t. Go on, Rem, don’t sugar coat it,” I say sarcastically.

  He gets up from the bed and strides across the room to the window, with Freddie in his arms.

  “No, you know what? It doesn’t fucking matter.”

  I move towards him, hating that I’m the one who put that look in sweet Remy’s eyes. The man who has taken care of my baby and me for the past year. Even though he’s acting like a jealous lover right now, I can totally understand his point. Damn you, devil’s advocate.

  “It doesn’t change what’s happened over this past year. I want closure, then I can end that chapter of my life and start a brand new one. Please understand that, Rem. I really love living in Santa Monica, and I’ve kind of gotten used to you being around.”

  He chuckles softly.

  “Is that your way of saying sorry and that you like me, beaut? Just a little tiny bit?” He jokes, and in that moment, our argument is forgotten, reminding me why we are friends in the first place.

  Remy can make a joke out of any situation, whether it is serious or not. He is easy to be around, and I do not know what I would have done without him this past year. He hugs me tightly, and I relish being in his strong, safe, arms.

  “Stay safe, stay out of sight. Don’t draw attention to yourself, don’t do anything reckless, and for fuck's sake, be careful.”

  I smile against him, at his concern and snuggle closer to him.

  “I’ll be careful, babe, I promise.”

  He kisses the top of my head and pulls away.

  “Call me as soon as you’re on your way back, and I’ll come and get you. Doesn’t matter what time it is, I'll be there.”

  I go to protest, and he narrows his eyes, pointing his finger in my direction.

  “No arguments on this one, I care about you. Me and this little dude just want you back in one piece.”

  I salute sarcastically, and he cocks his eyebrow.

  “Later, beaut.”

  He winks, and I blow him a kiss. I leave the hotel room with butterflies fluttering around in my stomach and a heavy heart.

  I make my way to Madison Square Garden, and the venue is huge. A sea of Rancid Vengeance fans are shouting their familiar chant.

  “Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance.”

  I get the familiar pre-gig butterflies, and I feel the buzz around the venue; the atmosphere is electric. I show my ticket at the door and try to keep my face hidden, as much as I can. I can’t afford to be recognised. I know I am taking a huge risk by even being here, but I need some sort of closure. I need to say a proper goodbye to Sam, even if it is from a distance.

  I follow the flow of fans into the arena, and I am astounded by the sheer size. I start to wonder if the boys are backstage. I imagine them all encouraging each other, drinking a few beers, and going through their pre-show rituals. Jax tuning his guitar, Lucas spinning his sticks, Brody in a world of his own, or on the bus shagging some random groupie. And Sam, ever the professional, silently and coolly keeping his nerves to himself.

  I make my way to a spot near to the stage and as I hear the support act, ‘The Devil’s Henchmen’, Draven Michaels' melodic scream fills the arena. I start to remember the time that Sam and I spent together. The familiar glint in his green eyes and the way the light caught his back tattoo and made it look like the wings of his phoenix were moving with each flex of his muscles. I think of his panty-dropping smile, his adorable dimples and the feel of the soft spikes of his hair against my skin. I start to remember the day we met, the first time I saw him on stage and the first time we made love. I remember the first time I told him I loved him, the moment I told him I was pregnant with his baby and the moment when he proposed to me in Las Vegas. All those precious moments showed me the sides of Sam Newbolt that no one else sees: the shy, vulnerable, sweet, kind lover that he was when we were together. At the same time, he was the fierce, protective warrior and the invincible, untouchable rock star… the one that let me in and welcomed me into his world.

  I am suddenly snapped out of my reverie, as I hear Sam’s familiar growl and my nerves start to kick up a notch. I start to wonder what the fuck I’m doing here.

  “Good evening, Madison Square Garden, how the fuck are we doing tonight? We’re Rancid Vengeance; it’s so fucking good to be back up on stage. Are you ready to rock? Let me hear you scream ‘hell yeah’.”

  My skin erupts with goosebumps, as I hear Sam’s familiar husky voice fill the arena and at that moment, I know without a shadow of a doubt, I have to stay. As the crowd around me erupt with a cheer of ‘hell yeah’, a panty-dropping grin spreads across his face, and I am mesmerized once again by his stage presence. I read on the internet that Rancid Vengeance have had a year away from the music industry, but seeing him up on stage now, it is like he has never been away. He is a born performer. Up on stage in front of his fans, is where he truly belongs. He is a true showman, and his presence commands attention. He is larger than life, just as I remember.

  “Yeahhh! Let’s fucking rock this place to the ground, giv
e me a riff, Flash,” he growls.

  Jax breaks out into his signature guitar solo and Lucas pounds an impressive drumbeat. Sam begins to sing, and his voice sends chills down my spine. I am transfixed by the music, the lyrics and the man performing in front of me.

  “I am lost to the music, lost to the void, lost to my eternal fucking sadness. Somebody, please throw me a lifeline.“

  As he sings, he loses himself in the music, closing his eyes. As he hits the chorus, Jax’s haunting guitar riff fills the venue. He opens his eyes, looking out at the crowd, and despite the other fans surrounding me, our eyes lock, green to blue. I am frozen to the spot, and I can’t move. My heart slams against my rib cage as his green eyes seem to recognise me. Shit, Remy warned me about this, I should never have come here. It is at that moment that I realise that I am standing completely still, not moving, and not cheering. I am just staring at the man who was once my whole world. His eyes roam my body in recognition. Does he know it is me? Fuck me; this was such a bad idea. With that thought, my brain sends a message to the rest of my body, and I begin to push my way through the crowd. I have to get out of here, quickly. My heart is pounding, and I feel an impending panic attack. I manage to get to the exit and desperately try to navigate my way out of the building. I can see an exit up ahead when I hear a sound behind me.