by Casey, Ember
“I have no idea.” Mick taps on his phone for a few moments before he starts to drive. “Somewhere out of the way. And discreet.”
“Sounds like a perfect honeymoon,” Pax grumbles, slumping against the seat. “Why’d she have to come back now?”
“That’s a rhetorical question, right?” Mick looks at him through the rearview mirror. “Because you already know the answer to that one.”
Pax folds his arms across his chest and stares out the window, shaking his head. “You’d think she could get a life. It isn’t like I didn’t make it pretty obvious—”
“You slept with her. For some people, that’s all it takes. A one-night stand turns into a lifetime obsession. We talked about it before you guys started, remember? You chose not to heed the warnings.”
“So you do blame me for it,” Pax growls. “That means everyone else does, too.”
“I don’t blame you for anything. Just asking you to take a little responsibility for creating that monster. That’s all.” Mick gives him a weak smile through the mirror. “It’s always good to take responsibility for everything that happens in your life. Even if it’s—”
“Even if it’s a stalker?” Pax interrupts. “Because I sure as shit didn’t invite her into my life.”
“Not like this, maybe.” Mick shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be trying to bestow life lessons on you in the middle of this.”
“Damn right, you shouldn’t.” Pax turns to me. “Can you believe this shit?”
“You did sleep with her though, didn’t you?” I tilt my head. “I mean, I’m sure you didn’t intend for this to happen. But you do bear some responsibility, right?”
“Now you, too?” Pax shakes his head. “How many times do I have to say that I did not want any of this?”
I reach for his hand. “I don’t think that’s the point at all. Mick is just saying—”
Pax yanks his hand away from mine. “You don’t understand, either.”
Mick sighs, shaking his head but not saying anything.
“Why don’t you explain it to me then, Pax?” I turn my body to more fully face him. “Explain everything to me.”
“I…” He frowns, glaring at me for a moment. “I can’t.” He turns to look out the window, effectively ending the conversation.
I let out a long breath, turning to stare out my own window. We’re heading outside of town, and the farther we travel, the more the scenery changes to what I remember of seeing of Arizona in photographs. The land is flat and brown with an occasional patch of scrubby bushes. I can’t imagine where we might be going, but I doubt it will be a five-star resort.
After a long, awkwardly silent trip, we finally pull up to a shabby building. There’s a dusty sign out front missing its first letter, but there’s no doubt at all that even though it reads ‘otel’, the missing letter is not an H.
We slide out of the car, and Mick turns to face us. “Sorry kids. But this is the best I can do on such short notice.”
Pax’s jaw drops open and he stares at the building.
Mick’s lips turn up into the slightest of smiles. “Happy honeymoon.”
Pax
I stare at the dingy room where we’ll be staying.
I guess it could be worse. There could have been a dead body shoved in the closet. Or rats in the corners. Or mysterious stains all over the bed. We should consider ourselves lucky that the only things we really have to complain about are peeling wallpaper and a stringy carpet. Of course, that doesn’t mean the owner isn’t a serial killer. I find myself glancing around the room, searching for cracks through which someone could spy on us. Or maybe a small camera wedged somewhere. Sophia and I have already had one video go viral—I don’t plan on letting that happen again.
I’m not a snob, really. The guys and I stayed in places a lot worse than this when we were starting out. But after a while, you get used to comfort and luxury. Is it so wrong to want a TV that works and a bed that doesn’t sink in the middle when you sit down on it?
All this because of Abby. I rub the bridge of my nose. I was an idiot to think that psycho was out of my life. I should have known that all this stuff with Sophia would bring her back out of hiding.
Mick and the guys think it’s my fault. But how was I supposed to know she’d turn into a stalker? It all started innocently enough—Abby was one of the first groupies I hooked up with after Twisted Throne started to gain some traction. She seemed so sweet and chill—and I swear, I never said anything to give her the idea we were doing anything but having a little fun. Looking back, there were a few red flags that first night—the way she stole my boxers, for one—but at the time, I thought it was hot. I had no idea what the fuck I was getting into.
When she showed up again, I tried to let her down easy—we both knew it was just a one-night thing, right? But she didn’t want to accept that, especially when I started hooking up with other women. What can I say? My band was finally hitting it big, and I suddenly had hundreds—even thousands—of women wanting to get with me. I was living the dream, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity to have some fun slip through my fingers. But Abby never seemed to get it.
Over the last few years, I’ve had a number of crazy fans—all of us guys have. Some of them would mob the tour bus, others would try to sneak into our private parties, others would mail us their panties or other intimate objects. Honestly, it comes with the territory—and to an extent, it’s kind of fun. But Abby always took it too far. The letters she mailed along with her intimate things were always a little threatening, and more than once she managed to sneak past security and into my hotel room. The final straw was when the guys and I returned to the tour bus one night and found her naked by the bunks, a knife in her hand. She was sobbing hysterically, and she threatened to kill herself if I didn’t tell her I loved her.
Needless to say, that was the night we realized a restraining order would be necessary.
It’s been a year since then. The restraining order seemed to do its job, and I figured Abby got the wakeup call she needed and would leave me alone from now on. As the weeks turned into months, I let myself forget about her completely. She was just another fan in the history of crazy fans.
I should have known better. I can deal with Abby if I have to, but it’s not myself I’m worried about. It’s Sophia. Any woman who’d slit her wrists in an attempt to force me to date her probably wouldn’t hesitate to hurt my new wife.
I glance at Sophia, who’s doing her best not to look too disgusted by our room for tonight. She’s probably never had to sleep in a place this grungy. I can only imagine what her snooty family would think if they could see her now.
“We should probably let Victoria and Nicholas know where you are,” I say. “So there isn’t some sort of royal manhunt.”
She nods, reaching into her purse. “I’ll call Victoria now.”
While she does that, I take a stroll around the room, opening drawers and peeking into the bathroom. This place is definitely gross, but there’s nothing growing between the tiles, and I don’t see any roaches skittering around. I’ll just have to think of it as an adventure.
Some honeymoon.
When Sophia hangs up, so looks over at me. “Are you sure all this trouble is necessary?”
“Sadly, yes.” I cross the room to her. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. This woman is…unhinged. And I don’t say that lightly.”
Sophia nods, her eyes falling to the bed. “There are probably worse places to have a honeymoon.”
“Yeah. Like a landfill. Or a morgue.”
I can tell by the sudden look of sadness in her eyes that I’ve said the wrong thing—leave it to an idiot like me to joke about a morgue when her father is in the hospital.
I pull her into my arms. “It doesn’t matter where we are. As long as we’re together, I don’t care.” I lean down and kiss her, looping my arms around her waist, holding her body against mine.
“How long unti
l we leave for Austin?” she asks between kisses.
“A few hours at least,” I tell her.
“Good. That’s plenty of time.”
“I like the way you think.” With a grin, I pick her up and carry her over to the bed. Like I suspected it would, it dips beneath her weight, but it’s something both of us are willing to live with right now.
I lower myself on top of her, kissing her deeply. I still can’t believe that this woman is my wife. That I get to hold her in my arms every night.
And I’ll do anything to keep her safe. I’ll sleep in a dingy hotel room every night for the rest of my life if I have to. I’d give my own life to protect hers.
And as I bury myself in her, I realize just how much everything has changed.
Sophia
We lie tangled together in silence for a long while after making love. I’m not sure how to get him to open up to me—to reveal all the secrets he’s been keeping from me. He still hasn’t told me the details of what happened with the woman he sings about every night. And now there’s another woman from his past complicating things.
But as I lie in his arms, nothing seems to matter. The world around us melts away when I’m with him. I can’t understand why, but something about being with him feels right.
Pax kisses my forehead. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
I tilt my head to look up at him. “As are you.”
He gives me a crooked grin. “I love you, Princess Sophia. I don’t think I need to be drunk to say it anymore.”
I can’t help but return the smile. “And I love you, Pax Donovan. I don’t think I’ve said it to you at all before.”
His grin widens. “You haven’t. But you haven’t needed to. I already knew.”
“You knew?” I slap playfully at his shoulder. “You only think you knew.”
“No. I knew.” He winks at me before kissing me again on the forehead. “And I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I think things are going to turn out okay. If we can make it through everything that’s going on now, we can make it through anything.”
I smile up at him again before nuzzling against his chest. Maybe he’s right—maybe this is just a test, and if we can make it past the challenges we’re facing now, the rest of our life together will be perfect.
We lie together for another long moment before my phone begins to ring.
I startle, sitting up and reaching over to the bedside table to grab it.
Pax looks down at it before I answer. “It’s an unknown number. You probably shouldn’t—”
“If it’s about my father, someone may be using another phone.” I shake my head, sliding my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hello?” I wait for a response, but there’s only silence. “Hello?”
Pax’s eyes widen, and he grabs the phone from my hand, pressing the button to hang it up. “I told you, if you don’t recognize the number, you shouldn’t answer.”
“What are you talking about?” I grab the phone from him. “Like I said, if it’s an emergency, someone could—”
He interrupts with a sharp shake of his head. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
He sighs. “Abby…my stalker. She’s smart.” He shakes his head again. “I don’t know how she does it. But she can figure out where you are by calling your cell phone.”
“Ah. And how exactly would she get my telephone number?” I can’t help but smile. “It isn’t as though many people have it. In fact, it isn’t many at all.”
He frowns. “But I have it. And she…” He lets out a long breath. “She’d figure it out. I thought…I thought she was better. She’s been out of treatment for a while, and I haven’t heard anything from her. I mean, I wasn’t even thinking about her. But she can be…dangerous.”
“So she’s violent? And you weren’t thinking about it?” My brow furrows. “How can you forget about something like that?”
“She isn’t…violent. Not exactly. Well, she wasn’t violent with me. But I could see…” His voice trails off, and I can see the concern in his eyes. “She wouldn’t hurt me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m not really worried about myself. But you…” He pulls my hand into his, kissing the back of it. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I don’t understand this at all. Why would a woman become so obsessed with a rock star that she would become violent? What purpose does that serve?”
He shrugs, giving the back of my hand another kiss. “It doesn’t. And I know, it doesn’t make sense. But she isn’t sane. She’s sick. I just…” He presses his lips into a forced smile. “Maybe we should worry about something else. You could call one of your brothers and see how your dad’s doing. I’m sure Andy would love to hear from you.”
“Very funny. But I just spoke with Victoria, and she says there’s no news. Which I suppose is a good thing.”
“A very good thing.” He smiles down at me. “I hope you know I’m not trying to make light of the situation. I just want to make you smile.”
“I know.” I reach up and touch the side of his face. “And that’s why I love you.”
“You know…” He turns his head to kiss the inside of my wrist. “I don’t think I can ever hear you say that enough.”
“I love you, Prince Pax.”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh God. Yeah, I don’t think I need to hear that one.”
I grin. “Prince Pax? Well, if we’re to remain married, you’d better get used to it.”
He chuckles. “I like the sound of Sophia Donovan a whole lot better.”
“Hm, I do like that. But I think people are going to like your new name a lot more.”
He shakes his head, still smiling down at me. “Prince Pax. Nah. I’ll hold out for King Pax.”
I laugh. “You’ll be waiting a very long time.”
He kisses my hand again. “You’re worth the wait.”
The sound of my telephone interrupts our moment, and Pax looks down at it.
He shakes his head. “It’s an unknown number again.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
He frowns at the phone for a moment, glaring at it before he slides his thumb across the screen to answer.
He looks at me as he speaks. “Abby. You need to knock this shit off.”
Pax
I know it’s her. She doesn’t even have to say a word, doesn’t even have to breathe, and I know it. I can deal with her shit, but I’m not letting Sophia go through any of this.
“The police have been alerted,” I say into the phone. The person on the other end still hasn’t spoken. “And we’re getting the restraining order reinstated as we speak. Don’t mess with me, Abby. And don’t you ever call this number again.”
There’s a long silence on the other end—long enough to make me worried that I’ve made a mistake, that I’ve just told off some poor Montovian sap who was only trying to reach Sophia with news. But then a familiar voice speaks up.
“Pax, after everything I’ve done for you—”
I hang up immediately, my blood going cold at the sound of her voice. Any lingering doubts I had about whether or not Abby was behind this are gone.
Sophia is watching me with a wary expression. “What just happened?”
“It’s her,” I say, throwing the phone down and getting off the bed. “We need to get you a new phone. Or at least a new number.”
“We can’t do that. I need to be able to contact my family.”
I curse under my breath. Under any other circumstances, I’d tell her not to worry about her family, but I can’t exactly ask her to give up contact with them when her father’s in the hospital.
“Then we’ll just have to double our security,” I say. “Have them watch us twenty-four seven. And whenever I’m at rehearsal or performing, we’ll put them all on you.”
“You’re the one she’s obsessed with,” Sophia points out.
> “But you’re the one she’s targeting. The graffiti and now the phone calls… It’s obvious who she’s focusing on. She’s probably convinced herself that you’re the only thing standing between her and her ‘happily ever after’ with me.” I run a hand through my hair. Of all the things I thought I’d have to deal with when Sophia and I got married, this didn’t even register. If I’d have known I’d put her in danger in any way, I would have agreed to the annulment.
I drop my hand. Maybe there’s still a chance to make this right. Maybe if we have this marriage annulled—or get divorced, or whatever we have to do to get out of this—our problems will all disappear. Abby will shift her attention away from Sophia. Sophia will be able to reconcile with her family. Hell, her father’s health might even improve when he hears the news.
But when I look at Sophia—at those big eyes and that soft face looking up at me—I know I can’t do it. I’m too much of a selfish bastard to walk away, even if I know it’s in her best interest.
“We’re getting more security,” I tell her firmly. I wish we could go back to a few minutes ago, when we were joking about my royal titles.
She doesn’t look excited by this, but she agrees with a nod. “If that would make you feel better.”
“It would.”
She leans back against the pillows. “If anything, I think this shows us how much we still need to talk about. Between this Abby and Kayla—”
“This has nothing to do with Kayla.”
“Which I’d understand a lot better if you’d actually talk to me. I don’t think—”
She’s cut off by the sound of her phone ringing again.
For a second, neither of us moves. But when she starts to reach toward it, I lunge forward and grab it off the bed before she can.
Once again, it’s a blocked number. I consider just rejecting the call, but in the end, my anger wins out. I answer.
There’s sobbing on the other end. During the time Abby was stalking me, I learned all her tricks, but even if I hadn’t, or even if I thought for a split second that these tears were genuine, they wouldn’t work on me now.
