The Wild Interview Read online

  “Shh, come on. You don’t need to see this. Let’s get you out of here,” Damon murmurs, and still holding me he edges us out of the door as I watch Blake lean against the wall, he doesn’t even lift a finger to help the man.

  “Wait, they are going to get into trouble,” I tell Damon as I spot the people with the cameras pointed at them.

  “They don’t care, they are more bothered about getting you away from him,” Damon growls, and that's when I realise his body is shaking. Looking up, I spot the anger in his face too.

  I hear a moan and look back to see Kingston rising to his feet, his chest heaving and his fists covered in blood as the guy who attacked me sputters and gasps on the floor. Blake kneels down next to him and starts whispering to the man, but Kingston blocks my view by coming up to me. I let him and he gently tips my face up, the touch feather light, even after he just proved how strong he is. He seems to realise he has blood on his hands because he goes to pull away, but I lean into his touch, needing the comfort right now.

  He smiles but it seems forced. “Let’s get you out of here. Blake will get the others.”

  I nod, and between them, they shelter me and walk me out of the club. The valet takes one look at them and scrambles to go and get the car. Shivering from the cold, I take shelter in their bodies, and their arms instantly tighten around me.

  When the car pulls up at the curb, they waste no time, not even letting the valet open the door. Kingston slides in first and Damon pushes me in next. I crawl in and Kingston wraps his arm around me, pulling me to his side. Damon gets in next and slides until his whole body is against me. I snuggle between them as we wait. Two minutes later, a very silent and still angry looking Blake moves into the front seat and pulls away.

  “The others—” I start and he meets my eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “Are getting the other car, let us just get you home.” His voice softens at the end and I nod, leaning my head against Damon.

  We’re silent on the ride home, and I stare out of the window as Kingston twines his hand with mine as Damon plays with my hair. You would have thought that after what just happened that I wouldn’t want to be touched, but I crave their touch.

  When we pull up at home, they slip out and both turn to help me. I smile and a breath seems to woosh out of them. I let them help me as Blake unlocks the door. When I step through the door, I kick off my heels and Blake reaches down and puts them on the shoe rack, not even seeming to notice he did it.

  “I’m going to get in my pajamas,” I mumble and my voice cracks. I don’t wait for them to reply before I start up the stairs, only to stop halfway up, my eyes locked on the steps as I blow out a breath. “Thank you,” I say softly and then walk quickly away.

  When I get in my room I shut my door, and instantly slip out of the dress, I’ll never wear that fucking thing again. I head straight to the bathroom and flick on the shower, setting it to scalding so I can get rid of the feeling of that guy on my skin. I shimmy out of my underwear and into the spray, tipping my head back so it runs down my face getting rid of my makeup, which is no doubt smeared anyway.

  I scrub at every inch of my body and at some point during that, I start to get angry. It’s fucking awful that a girl can’t even go out and have a good time without some idiot thinking they have a right to touch someone without their permission. People like that think women are made just for their cock and they have a right. It's horrible, and it happens every fucking day. I can count on both hands the amount of friends I have that have similar stories, men too, and they don’t always have someone there to stop them or protect them like I did. I’m lucky. Flicking off the shower, I step out and wrap a towel around my body, groaning at myself for not bringing pajamas in here with me.

  Stepping out into the bedroom I freeze when I spot Blake laying on my bed, his arms under his head and his feet bare as he stares at the ceiling. When he doesn't look at me, I grab some pajamas and shut myself back in the bathroom, needing that barrier to compose myself. Once I am encased in my fluffy pajamas I feel a bit better.

  Moving back into the room I hesitate, and Blake looks over at me, taking in my wet hair and no longer tear-stained face. He nods and I sigh before padding over to him, jumping down next to him. I mimic his position as we sit in silence.

  “You okay?” he eventually asks, and I jump when his pinky finger wraps around mine. I look between our bodies and quickly look back at the ceiling.

  “Honestly? No, but I will be.” I sigh again and he hums. “Thank you. I can only imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

  “That’s what family does,” he says softly, and I swallow hard. Does that mean I’m part of the family? Before I can ask, the door bangs open and the rest of them stream in. All in various stages of panic and anger. Liam and Leo look terrified until they spot me. Then their shoulders slump, even as they glare at everyone and everything.

  I pat the bed and everyone piles on. Liam claims the spot next to me and rolls into me, laying his head on my shoulder. Leo curls up around us both and lays his head in my lap while Damon, Kingston, and Emmett lie at my feet.

  “We’re going to need a bigger bed,” I joke and they all laugh, a desperate edge to it.

  I close my eyes, feeling safe and happier with them next to me. I feel Blake start to pull away and I clutch his hand, my eyes locking on his as he freezes. “Please stay,” I whisper, letting him see how much I need him here.

  He nods, his eyes searching mine. He turns on his side, still holding my hand, and stares at me as I close my eyes again. Falling asleep surrounded by them.

  I wake with the realisation that I’m not alone in my bed, and not only that, but I’m definitely not in my single bed at my parents’ house. I peel open an eye and my memories slam back into place as I see a mound of bodies surrounding me. Okay, that sounds bad, men, not bodies. Saying bodies sounds like I went on a murder spree.

  Hahaha, okay Gabby, get your shit together. No one likes a psychopath. I free my arms from the grips of the various men surrounding me, and push myself up into a sitting position. My head is pounding, and not because of the alcohol we consumed at the club. I groan as I remember the events from last night. This is not going to go down well, especially just after we get approval from the board, and then the boys get into a fight. Fuck’s sake! Calm down Gabby, you can manage this. You managed to talk your way out of dancing naked into the university library with only a copy of Music Management for Dummies clutched to your chest, you can sort this. I take a deep breath and look at the guys sleeping softly on the bed next to me. All except Blake that is, who is awake and watching me from the chair in the corner of the room, like some sort of creepy watchman.

  “You okay?” he asks softly, careful not to wake the guys up. At least, that’s why I think he’s talking softly, he has never used that tone of voice with me before. Soft and Blake aren't words you would usually use together. Even looking at him, everything about him is hard and sharp. I realise I’m staring at him when he raises an eyebrow at me, with his usual little smirk forming on his lips. I think over his question, am I okay? I nod slightly at him, wincing at the pounding in my head. My hand raises to the back of my head where the asshole from last night slammed my head into the wall, I should probably see a doctor about that.

  “I think so,” I answer quietly, my voice rough from sleep. I rub my face with my hands as I think over everything I’m going to need to do to field today’s shit storm. “Today is going to be hell.” Blake frowns and nods in agreement.

  “Yeah. I’m not sorry about what I did to that guy. But I’m sorry it’s going to cause you issues.” I blink at Blake. Blimey, I must have hit my head harder than I had thought. Did he just apologise?

  The guys around me start to wake at our quiet words, Kingston groans a little and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. I smile a little, he’s one of our biggest guys and doesn’t say much, but he’s really just a big teddy bear. Liam and
Leo are cuddling each other in their sleep, and Damon looks very angelic sleeping curled around my legs at the bottom of the bed. I realise I don’t care that today is going to be shit, and that I’ll be questioned and shouted at. These guys are worth it, they have worked hard, and yeah, they shouldn’t have beaten that guy up. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but they did it to protect me.

  With a sigh I look at the clock on the bedside table, it’s still early, but we need to get to the rehearsal space. I still have a lot to organise to get the tour ready for next week, not to mention the backlash that’s bound to hit from last night. I untangle myself from the guys and try to climb off the bed without stepping on anyone. I manage it, only tredding on one of them and nearly falling off the bed once in the process. I stand up with a flourish like I’ve just completed a gymnastics move, and bow at Blake as he raises his eyebrow at me.

  I hurry into the bathroom to freshen up, glad that I’ve started keeping some clothes in here. I’m so used to the guys walking in while I’m half naked, that I’ve begun leaving comfy clothes I can quickly throw on in useful places. Trying to tame my hair is futile today, so I give up and pull it into a ponytail. When I walk back out into my room, I see that all but Leo and Liam have left, the two guys still fast asleep curled in each others arms. An idea comes to me, and an evil little smirk flirts across my lips. I grab my phone from the bedside table where I had left it to charge, and snap a photo of the two of them before posting it to the group chat. My phone instantly starts vibrating as the replies start coming through.

  Damon: Look at the little angels.

  Emmett: Bless their little cotton socks.

  Blake: They are going to kill you when they see this.

  I smirk and slide my phone into my back pocket, before grabbing the edge of the blankets covering them and whipping them away.

  “Come on sleeping beauties! Breakfast downstairs, we leave in thirty!” I call out before running from the room, giggling as a pillow gets thrown in my direction.

  Breakfast was rowdy, as usual, and apart from a few concerned looks in my direction, the guys didn’t treat me any differently than how they usually would, which I’m grateful for. I don’t want to be treated like china after last night, I just want to carry on as normal. After we have all eaten, we pile into the two cars and head to the rehearsal space, my nerves rising the closer we get. I’m not sure what’s going to be awaiting us when we arrive, and my fingers are twitching for my clipboard so I can start planning. We climb out of the cars and I unlock the doors. The fact that the place isn’t crawling with press is a good sign. I smile at the guys, and their nervous looks tell me everything I need to know.

  “Go start warming up. I’ll deal with everything.” They hesitate and I roll my eyes at them. “Go! Before I get my clipboard and hit you with it!” I demand, and that causes them to crack a smile, Kingston even winks at me as they head off to the rehearsal studio.

  I reach my office and unlock the door, groaning as I see the voicemail light flashing on the work phone. I ignore it for a moment and turn on the laptop, bringing up the Wild Boys email account, I groan and drop my head into my hands when I see fifty-three emails in the inbox. A cough brings my attention to the doorway and I see Mark leaning against the frame.

  “Hey Sweetness. I hear things got a little out of hand last night?”

  “Shit. How did you hear about it?”

  “I got a call from a very pissed off Mr. Jones.” I groan at his words and bang my forehead against the desk. I wince as pain flashes through my head and a wave of sickness washes over me.

  “Woah, Sweetness, are you okay?” Mark’s concerned voice reaches me and I glance up at him from where my head rests on the desk.

  “Not really Mark,” I tell him on a sigh, before pushing back in my chair and turning to face him, explaining everything that happened at the club last night.

  “Shit,” he comments after I’m finished explaining. “You’re the girl in the picture.” My blood goes cold at his comment and I narrow my eyes at him.

  “What picture? Explain!” I order.

  Mark pulls a rolled up newspaper out of his back pocket and passes it to me. All across the front page is the headline:

  ‘BOYS GONE WILD OR HEROES OF THE NIGHT?’

  A large picture of the guys from the website, plus a grainy picture of Blake and Kingston barreling into the ladies room, are plastered next to the article. In the very back of the picture you can see a woman being pinned to the wall of the bathroom by a guy. Oh shit. Okay, it’s okay Gabby, breathe. This is bad, but our bacon may have been saved by that picture. I bring the paper closer to my face and stare at the picture. You can’t tell it’s me, so that’s a plus. I sigh and start reading the article so I can begin some damage control.

  The article mentions the guys and that they are the local ‘bad boys’ from a travelling ‘male show,’ and that while they have a bad reputation, perhaps they are cleaning up their act by swooping in to save the young lady in the picture.

  Okay, it could have been worse, way worse, I can deal with this.

  I chat with Mark for a little longer before he leaves to let me plan what I’m going to do.

  Just as I’m about to make a call, the work phone goes off and I can almost guess who it’s going to be. I glare at the phone, hoping it will stop ringing. It doesn’t. With a sigh I reach forward and pick it up.

  “The Wild Boys, Gabby speaking, How can I help? Oh, Mr. Jones, how can I help you?”

  Needing a break, I walk from my office to the rehearsal studio, pausing at the entrance way to watch the guys dance for a moment. If you strip away all of the fancy costumes, flirting and dirty moves, the guys really are talented dancers. I knock on the door before walking in, smiling at the guys’ reactions as they see me, their grins and greetings warming me.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Blake asks from the corner of the room, his scowl in place as he walks towards me, arms crossed, his skin glistening with a fine layer of sweat from dancing.

  “I spoke with the board. They weren't happy.” That was putting it mildly. Mr. Jones had shouted and ranted down the phone for ten minutes before he let me speak and defend myself. They questioned my capabilities, my ability to do the job, just as they have begun to trust me, blah blah… Eventually, I had managed to explain that the woman in the photo had been me, and that the guys had actually saved me. I then proceeded to tell him my plan, and how I was going to sort this. That made him go silent for a while, before he had to admit that I had a good plan. I then proceeded to go ahead and make the arrangements, it was a lot of work on top of everything else I had to do, but it’s necessary. “But I’m awesome so I’ve manage to sort it.” One of the guys snorts and I narrow my eyes, trying to work out who it was. Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms as they gather around me.

  “So what’s the plan Boss Lady?” Damon asks with a smile.

  “I have reported the incident to the police, but I’ve been asked not to be named in the enquiry. I have also arranged a press conference, you guys will be speaking about how you’re working with the police to find the guy that attacked the woman at the nightclub.” They are silent, blinking at me like goldfish, so I continue, “We spin this on it’s head, we make you look like the good guys. But there can be no more fights. Agreed?” My eyes land on Blake, knowing I have to get him to agree, otherwise all of this is pointless. He stares at me for a moment, and I worry he’s going to say no, before he sighs and nods.

  “Agreed.”

  I smile sweetly at them. “Good, because the board members are on their way over to speak to you all.”

  After lunch it settles down a bit, with the board gone and everyone back to rehearsing, I find myself with Mark, drinking coffee again. It’s becoming a ritual of sorts. Though sometimes I do feel like I’m on The Jeremy Kyle show. Wow, okay, I need more coffee. Downing the last dregs, I get up and make another as Mark watches me.

  “Rough night?” he jokes and I turn to glare him, p
ointing the spoon filled with coffee at him.

  “Don’t tempt me old man, death by coffee. It could happen,” I warn ominously and he laughs, choking on his coffee as I watch him.

  “I thought you were a bloody daisy when I met you, now you’re threatening to kill me with coffee.” He continues laughing and I ignore him, mixing my coffee and sitting back behind my desk.

  “A daisy huh? Where are you from?” I find myself wanting to know everything, it’s a strange job to pick.

  He grins and sips his mug. “All over really. Grew up in Yorkshire then we moved south to Essex, and then pretty much everywhere you can imagine after that. When I was sixteen my dad’s mate offered me a cheap job moving some sound equipment for a gig. Been doing it ever since, never went to uni or anything. This became my life, it’s all I know.”

  “No kids, no wife?” I ask, blowing on my coffee as the first one starts to kick in.

  “In my line of work? Nah. I had to be ready to leave at the drop of hat, it never really worked to settle down.” He looks into his mug as I stare at him.

  “Do you regret it?” I find myself asking.

  “Yes and no. I wish I had kids, I would spoil them and I think I would make a good dad, and no because I love my job. I get to see the world and every day is different. Plus, those kids out there have become mine, and now you too.”

  I grin even as my heart flips at that. “You would make a great dad.” We share a smile as we sip our coffee. “You known them long?” I find myself probing.

  “Since they started this venture. They did a couple of shows, but it didn’t really go anywhere until they started pitching their ideas to anyone and everyone who would listen. Finally, they got a break and I got paired with them. They are hard workers and good boys.”

  I smile at the tenderness in his words, he loves them. “I like them, even if sometimes I want to kill them.”