My Rock #4 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #4) Read Online Free

I was a fucking mess. Shit! I slammed my hand into the mirror on the wall.
    “ Ow ! Fuck!” I yelled that
out as my knuckles made contact, but afterwards, it actually made me feel better
to focus on how bad that hurt as the blood oozed out of it and ran down my
wrist. I just stood there and let it bleed and throb for a while. Finally,
after making a bloody mess of the bathroom, I went into my room and got a
bandana out of the drawer. I wrapped my hand up to stop the bleeding and
wondered what the hell to do. I could go buy some bleach…

 
    CHAPTER
FOUR
    ELLY
    I got to work a couple of hours before the results show
started. I had to set up, but also, I had to admit that I was hoping Tristan was
planning to come in early to talk to me. I may have been an idiot for thinking
it, but I really thought he would call and apologize to me for telling me to
shut-up. Especially in front of people, and especially after I was willing to
still be there for him. I knew he was hurting, but that was crossing a line. I
hope he paid attention to my text and he didn’t do anything stupid. I knew his
bad attitude was because of being sober for a couple of days. I was sure he felt
like hell, but it not my fault. If he was going to make it and kick the drugs,
he was going to have to start taking some personal responsibility. He seemed to
be really good at putting that on everyone else.
    I couldn’t help but wonder how the show was going to
go. He made such a scene and spewed profanity at the judges. Then the final act
where he threw his guitar against the wall was just beautiful. I saw Clint come
out of his office down the hall just as he did that. He didn’t look happy. I
wondered, if he made it through by some miracle, would the producers let him
stay? When no one was looking, I’d taken his guitar and put it away. I’d take
it to him later.
    I wanted him to win the contest. He really was the
most talented contestant and he deserved it…but, he needs help. I feel sick
inside every time I let myself think about how bad he looked the night before. If
he got voted off, I was sure that he’d throw in the towel and just go back to
using. I was pretty sure that the contest was the one thing that he had to look
forward to. I would have liked to believe it was me as well, but I that might have
given me too much credit. The bottom line was if he kept using, he was going to
end up losing everything eventually, maybe even his life. I couldn’t stand that
thought.
    I tried to act natural while Molly, Keith, and I
worked on setting things up. All the talk was about Tristan’s scene last night
and I got a couple of glances from Molly that looked…sympathetic, maybe? She
was discreet though, and I did my best to avoid having to discuss it. I could
tell that she was dying to ask me about it, but to her credit, she didn’t. The
rest of the staff didn’t know about Tristan and me, yet I felt like I kept
getting cornered by someone who wanted to talk about it. I did my best to act
neutral. Once everything was ready to go, and the contestants started showing
up, I got nervous all over again wondering what kind of mood Tristan would be
in.
    When he finally got there, he took a seat in the far
back while he waited for the contestants to get called on stage. He didn’t make
eye-contact with anyone and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He had to
feel bad, or be embarrassed about how he acted…he was just so stubborn that he
wouldn’t talk to anyone about it. He had a bandage around his right hand and I
wondered who or what he had punched. He was going downhill fast and all I could
do was sit back and watch. I was praying that he still planned on going into
rehab…I was afraid he wouldn’t make it otherwise.
    I wanted to go talk to him so badly and make sure
that he was okay…but people would wonder what I was doing. With Tristan being
everyone’s focus, they’d be asking a lot of questions that I didn’t want to
have to answer.
    “Hey!