“What? What master tapes?” Sam began to realize that there was more to this than she knew.

“Oh, please…I played that gig so you could see the real deal. She recorded mine and Pete’s shit. You were there. Don’t play dumb, Blondie. Those tapes should be mine.”

“I think you’re missing something, James. Brooke would never go back on her word.”

James leaned in until his nose was almost touching the blonde’s. “Then why aren’t they in my hands, huh? I should probably just hold you in my hands until she gives them over to me,” and with that, he placed both hands on Sam’s upper arms.

“James, I’m sure there’s a simple reason…” She tried to make him understand until the pressure on her arms was too great. “Hey, not so hard… get off of me.” Sam twisted, trying to break his grip.

James ignored her protests and held on even tighter. “Seems only fair… I had my hands on her… now, it’s your turn.”

“You’re lying,” Sam spat out. “She’d never let you manhandle her. She’s not like that…” Sam closed her eyes and turned her head away from James, as he failed in his attempt to kiss her. She pushed against his chest. “And neither am I.”

James leaned in towards her ear and whispered, “Don’t tell me she never told you about why we broke up. I can still remember it now…how soft her skin was underneath my hands.” He watched as Sam turned to face him, opening her eyes. “How about that tiny birthmark on the small of her back, under that tattoo… or how about the other one on the inside of her right thigh. I’m sure that she’s let you see it, too. Hasn’t she?”

Green eyes narrowed, showing the rough waters of a churning sea ahead with a single gaze. “What are you getting at, James? Anyone that has seen her in a bathing suit could tell you…”

“Come on, Sam. Don’t be so fucking naïve. You can’t tell me that you honestly believed that you were Loran’s first.” He smirked, then looked away from her for a second before starting his verbal assault again. “Did she ever tell you about her pitiful suicide attempt after she left me…I mean, the group?”

The blonde looked off into the distance as one single tear slowly rolled down her cheek. Before Sam could answer, she caught the glimpse of a moving body as Brooke came running down the stairs. Faster than she could brace herself, James was roughly pulled off her and was being pushed to the floor.

“You get the hell away from her, you bastard.” Brooke turned her attention to Sam. “Are you okay, Baby? Did he hurt you?”

“Loran to the rescue as always, eh Brooke?” James stood up, making a show of brushing the imaginary dirt off of his pants.

Brooke let his remark slide by, choosing to ignore him and concentrate on Sam. She placed her hand against Sam’s cheek and wiped the tears away with her thumb. “Tell me, why are you crying?”

“You think you own that white charger you keep between your legs, don’t you?”

The dark-haired woman turned around and started toward him until she was stopped by the small hand that grabbed for her, holding on tight, not wanting to let her go. “What in the hell are you talking about, James? Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Yep… just like you to forget who put that charger there, Babe.” James winked and blew a kiss in Brooke’s direction. “I told her all about us. Everything, Brooke.”

“What us? There was never an us.” Brooke turned around to face Sam. “Baby, he’s lying. We were never together.”

“Sure, I’ll play along if that’s what you’re telling her. But do you think she’s that gullible?” James taunted with a smile.

“No, she’s not gullible. She also knows that I wouldn’t lie to her, unlike you.” Brooke’s disdain for her one-time friend was very evident. She looked away from James, only long enough to catch Sam sniffing back a tear.

“Me, lie?” James threw his arms up in disbelief. “Why, I’m the best lay you ever had and you know it.”

The ex-drummer whirled around, starting towards James until the tug of small hands brought her to her senses. “You lying bastard. I never slept with you… no matter how hard you tried.”

“Brooke, you’re so full of shit. Do I have to remind you how you were when you were drunk? You loved it. You loved me. Hell…you would have loved any one.”

Blue eyes turned to silver, glowing in their intensity with hatred for this man. “I might have been drunk, but I stopped you, you bastard. I didn’t love getting drunk that night. I sure didn’t love you dropping that shit in my drink. And I sure did not love waking up with you naked in my bunk on the bus, trying to get me out of my clothes.”

Sam’s eyes flashed from Brooke to James and back again, realizing that what they were saying could be considered the same as date rape.

“You were my best friend, you prick. I thought out of anyone, I could trust you. Boy, was I ever wrong.” Brooke turned around to look at Sam, hoping and praying that she wasn’t buying into any of James’ shit. “Sam…you know that you’re the only one I’ve ever been with. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

Sam nodded, her eyes never leaving Brooke’s. “Yes, I…I know that.”

“Come off it, already, Brooke. You know I was your best lay. And you’re right about one thing. You were wrong…wrong in thinking that this little trollop could keep you satisfied.” He watched as Brooke slowly turned around to face him while he continued, “Yeah, you’re running your little brainwashing program, just like you did with Petey.”

“You listen to me, you sorry son-of-a-bitch…you say anything you want about me. But I will not have you talk about Sam like that. Peter is a grown man who can take care of himself. It was his decision to leave, not mine.” Brooke’s body began to tremble in anger and she prayed that she’d be able to curb her urge to rip his head right off, here and now.

“Whatever, Loran. You’ve got everyone wrapped around your little finger. But not me. No, Brooke, not me… I know the truth.”

“Oh yeah? And what is this so-called truth, you fucking drunk?” Brooke leveled her gaze directly at James.

“Yeah, right. And tell me, Brooke… was it your decision not to honor our agreement?”

“What are you talking about?” Brooke fumed in anger. “What agreement?”

“I’m talking about the FUCKING MASTERS,” James screamed out. “Where are they? You owe me, Brooke. You owe me big.”

“The masters were sent out this morning before nine.” Brooke shook her head. “Why am I even bothering to talk to you? Get out of my house and leave us alone, you damn drunk.”

“Drunk… you think this is drunk? This ain’t drunk, Brooke…this is shit assed angry.”

Brooke took in a deep breath and then let her voice grow in volume as she pronounced each word. “Get out of my house, NOW.”

James merely laughed at her as he began walking around the living room, picking up various items and examining them. “I aint’ no fucking employee of yours to order around. Go tell Peter to do your bidding.”

“You’re trespassing on private property. You are not welcome here.”

“That’s a shame. I remember a time when you begged me to let you play. I should have fucked you over then and got all that bullshit out of you…showed you what it was like to be a real woman. A woman who could beat out the rhythm on a set of drums and fuck all night long.”

Brooke shrugged her arm out of Sam’s grasp and walked over to James, deciding to try and beat him at his own game. “You? You’ve got to be kidding me, you needle dick, son of a bitch. I’m more man than you could ever be and more woman than you’ll ever get. Besides…” she leaned in closer to him and spoke in an almost whispered tone. “I can fuck all night long now, without your help.”

“You fucking, Dyke…”

Brooke laughed as she saw his temper flare. “And Hell…I don’t ever go limp.” The tall woman raised an eyebrow in challenge as she flexed her long, sinewy fingers in front of his face.

“I ought to…” James started, the anger now getting the best of him.

“Ought to what? Not my fault if I can fill a pair of Levi’s better than you.”

James turned, taking a step away before quickly reversing his direction, winding up to throw a punch at Brooke’s face. “Then you can take this like a man.” He let go with all his strength, throwing his weight behind the forward motion of his fist.

Brooke grabbed his fist in her hand before it ever made contact with its intended target and squeezed it with all her strength. “You first.” The coldness of the moment was reflected in her gaze as she squeezed harder, feeling slightly guilty that she was hoping to crush the bones beneath her hand.

“Brute strength, Brooke. That’s all you ever were.”

“What’s wrong? Jealous ’cause you have none?” Brooke gave the hand in hers one last crushing squeeze before flinging it away.

“Just like every drummer in the business. What I’ve got is what you’ve always wanted… and you know it.”

“Wrong… why should I waste my time on you when I’m better at it?”

“Oh, excuse me, the great Loran is never wrong. Well, except for when you decided not to fuck me.”

“James…you couldn’t handle it. Your dick would go limp before I could even blink. That is… if I could even find it.”

James grabbed his crotch, suggestively. “Care to give that a test?”

“No…it’ll never happen.”

Sam moved forward to Brooke’s side and wrapped her hands around Brooke’s upper arm. “Come on, Brooke. He’s drunk. Just let him leave.”

“Yeah, Needle dick… let go of your sock roll and get the hell out of my house.”

“Sock roll huh? Well if that cock ain’t good enough for you…then maybe this one will be.” Before Brooke could move out of the way, James sent a right upper cut in the direction of her chin. His blow landed and Brooke soon followed sharply with an elbow to his nose, merely as an impulsive instinct.