Real Ugly (Hard Rock Roots #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Turner Campbell

Naomi Knox is a murderer.

The thought doesn't bother me as much as it should. I get the feeling that the people in the video had it coming and try not to delve too deep into that line of thinking. She'll tell me about it. I can tell from her body language that she's already accepted that she has to spill her guts for me. If I find out they molested her though, I might go ballistic. Any man that thinks he can take a woman without her will disgusts me. Pathetic.

I trail behind Naomi and finish my joint, ending up standing in awkward silence next to her drummer friend while he glares at me, and she stashes the phone bits somewhere in the back of the bus. I do my best to ignore him, pretty fucking sure that if something starts between us, it's gonna end up ugly.

I take deep breaths to calm my nerves and try to bring myself down from the nervous high I've been on all night. That video seriously screwed with my head. I mean, I admit to myself how I feel about this chick and then I get railroaded with crap like that? What a load of bull. Whoever sent it had some pretty fucked up intentions in mind. I point at the fridge and keep my eyes off that emo dude's face and on Naomi's ass as she bends down and messes with something under her bunk.

"I'm gonna grab a beer." I reach for the fridge door and yank it open, grabbing a couple cans and tossing one to Knox when she starts back this way. She catches it in her hand and then drops it in her purse, pausing next to me to reopen the fridge. She grabs a six pack and then gestures at me to follow her outside again, past groups of loitering people, trailers, buses, until we end up sitting on the curb as far from the action as humanly possible.

Behind us, the highway flashes with lights and rumbling engines, busy and getting busier. In the distance, I can see the sun rising up from behind the mountains. I pop the top on my can and swig it.

"I'm going to be blunt with you, okay?" she says, and I shrug.

"Haven't seen you as anything but," I tell her as I study her face and wonder when she'll figure out that I'm after her, for keeps this time. A smirk curls my lip, but I force it back. I can't let her know that I've come to this abrupt decision. She'll think I'm fucking nuts. I think I'm fucking nuts. Everybody does. But shit, when the heart wants something, it'll do anything to get it, and right now, mine's in a fucking frenzy.

"Well, I was born, put up for adoption, adopted." She puts her beer to her lips, and I watch as her throat works, swallowing the alcohol down like it's water. When she's finished, she takes a deep breath and crumples the can, tossing it into her purse and starting in on a second. I rush to catch up. Turner Campbell doesn't get drunk under the table. Nuh uh. "My adoptive parents were killed in a car accident when I was seven." She smiles tightly at me. "Am I going too fast for you?" I lick my lips and lean in close.

"You go as fast as you want, baby." My fingers trace down her upper arm, and she shivers. "But when you're finished, I might have you go back for all the little details." I smile, and Naomi curls her lip at me. She acts like we never fucked, and it annoys the shit out of me. I wonder if she's doing it on purpose. She can't lie to me though. No matter how she acts, what she says, what she does, I saw her eyes wet. Thinking back, I figure she probably thought I meant something else. But all that dryness there was lit up for a brief second. I do my best to keep the smirk off my face.

"I want to know why you give a shit all of a sudden, why you care to know all those little details. What do you want from me, Turner?" I lean back with a sigh and put my arms out behind me.

"Okay, so they died and then what?" I ignore her question.

"Then I'm no different from every other troubled foster brat. I was bounced from place to place, ended up with a family who liked to fuck their own daughter, starve her, and beat her unconscious. When they came for me, I got rid of them. And then I went searching for you, found you, and left with an even bigger problem. I got an abortion and then I moved around the country for awhile." Naomi pauses and shakes her head hard, like she just wants to forget everything that ever happened to her. "I ended up back in Tulsa which was either a curse or a blessing, haven't decided which yet." She stops again to narrow her eyes. "Hayden and I formed Amatory Riot and then I ended up here. Any questions?"

I just sit there for a moment trying to process. Jesus Christ. Not exactly what I was expecting. I open my mouth several times and end up snapping it shut without saying a thing. What is there to say to that really? So I fall back on what I'm comfortable with. Flirting. I run my fingers through my hair which is disgusting as shit. First thing I'm doing when I'm done here is taking a shower.

"Tons, but first, I want to know something else." Naomi sets her beer down and digs out a smoke, holding it delicately between two fingers as she stares off into the distance with clouded eyes. I watch her for a moment and then I look around, checking to see if there's anybody watching. We're pretty well hidden here, drenched in shadow surrounded by brightness, lost in plain sight. I do my best to hold back a grin. I can imagine all sorts of things we could get away with over here. Doubt Naomi would be up to any of it though. "What did we do that night?"

"Pardon?" she asks, blowing smoke out in rings. My cock goes stiff immediately. Smoke rings are kind of a fetish of mine. "You mean sexually?"

"What else is there?" I ask which garners me a sour look. She still doesn't respect me, fine. I can wait for that, but at least I'm not getting angry anymore. As soon as I admitted to myself that I was interested in Naomi, that stopped right away. I try to think of that as a sign that I'm not fucking around here. This is real life shit. "Yeah, sexually."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not telling the cops you stabbed your parents with scissors." Naomi jabs the cherry of her cig against the cement so hard that her fingers come back bloody, scraped raw by the rocky surface.

"Turner, listen to me right now. If you can't remember what happened that night, that's your problem. I'm not going to sit here and relive it with you. Look, I gave you my life story. That should be enough." I raise my brows at her and feel another stir of heat in my stomach. Okay, so maybe the anger didn't stop completely, but it's better. Anybody else talking to me like that ... Let's just say, it wouldn't be good.

"You gave me a ten second rundown, that hardly qualifies." With a snarl she stands up and spins around to face me, taking her purse with her, getting ready to run away again. Fucking me didn't change her opinion of my character, I guess. Or she wasn't impressed. I look up at her and lick my lips. If I'm going to win this girl, I'm going to have to use a different approach. The Turner Campbell style is better equipped to rounding up groupies. I stay quiet.

"Turner, listen up. That girl I warned you about before is my foster sister, Eric's sister. She's the one that sent you the video." She pauses and chews the inside of her cheek. She's already backing up, getting ready to leave. "The reason I warned you about her is because she might be dangerous. She's ... fuck, how do I put this? She's obsessed with me." Naomi pauses and looks me straight in the face. "To the point where she was hospitalized for it. Now she's following me and she's doing ... strange things. I'm going to say this once, so I hope you'll hear me out: be careful."

"You serious?" I ask her, but I can already tell from her facial expression that she is.

"Watch your back, Turner," she tells me as she turns away. "See you onstage."

I hop to my feet, ready to follow after her and then force myself to stay back. I've gotta get mentally prepared for this falling in love crap. This shit's a lot harder than I first thought. Besides, the war of love can't be won with greasy hair and sweaty fucking pits.

I head back to the bus to rethink my game plan.