by Jenna Jacob
One I could easily fall head-over-heels in love with again.
Clenching my jaw, I snatched his wallet off the nightstand. With a heavy heart, I stroked the soft black leather. Another mountain of shame rained down on me as I flipped it open and withdrew the stack of hundred-dollar bills tucked inside. I gaped at the money and quickly estimated I was clutching three or four thousand dollars…hell, maybe more.
A foreboding chill slid down my spine.
The day I was released from the youth detention center, I’d made a vow to never steal from anyone again. Before getting caught, I’d convinced myself the things Syd and I had stolen, and I pawned in other towns, was simply for our survival. But locked away in that cold, empty cell, I’d realized that our enemy hadn’t been hunger but the rush of getting away with something forbidden. Well, that and pride. If we had shoved our arrogance aside and accepted Emma’s offer, our lives would have turned out totally different.
But would they have been better? Maybe.
Would we have stayed together? Hopefully.
Would I have become a famous artist? Who knows.
Would Syd have become a rock god? Yes. Music has always been part of his DNA.
But we didn’t accept her offer, and the life and love we’d shared, cherished, and embraced vanished like smoke on the wind.
My aching heart skipped, and I wiped a useless tear from my cheek.
With trembling fingers, I peeled ten of the hundreds from the stack before shoving the rest away while my vow to never steal again circled my brain.
“Yeah, well, I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to rip into him for leaving me that night, either. Guess it’s my turn to break all the promises this time.”
Unfortunately, my justification didn’t work. Shame flooded every cell in my body as the little voice in my head piled on even more choking guilt. He saved you, fed you, got you medical attention, and this is how you repay him?
“I don’t have any other option,” I wailed as my soul ripped in two.
Shoving the bills inside the pocket of Syd’s leather coat, I tossed his wallet on the nightstand, then picked up the pen and pad of paper next to the phone.
By the time I finished writing my apology and promise to pay him back, tears were streaming down my cheeks. I had to leave to keep from dragging Syd down. But a black hole of mourning was eating through me, consuming the fantasy of salvaging the love we once shared.
We’re not sixteen anymore. The bitter reminder careened through me as I stood and numbly strode down the lavish hall. When I reached the door, I peered out the peephole. The hallway was completely deserted. It was now or never.
Hoping against hope that Syd would forgive me, I turned the knob and briskly walked to the elevator. Impatiently waiting on the conveyance, I swiveled anxious glances over my shoulder while silently praying that Syd or one of the others didn’t exit their suites.
The elevator arrived with a loud ping that made me jump. As the doors slid open, I zipped one last glance down the hall and stepped inside. When I reached the lobby, I tucked my chin, paraded past the front desk clerk and straight outside. As I’d hoped, the valet attendant was still on duty.
“Need your car, ma’am?” the young man asked. When he raised his head and saw the bruises on my face, the professional smile slid away.
“Waiting on my insurance company to issue me a rental. Some idiot ran a red light a few days ago and T-boned me. My prized Prius is completely totaled, and my face…well, you can see for yourself, it’s not very pretty.” As the lies rolled off my tongue, the young man grimaced. “But I could use a cab.”
“Sure thing. Where do you need to go?”
“Is there a bus station in town?”
“City or Greyhound?”
“Greyhound, please.”
“Yes, but it’s downtown. That’s about thirty-five miles away.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind the ride.”
“Okay. Any luggage?”
“Nope. I had it shipped home while I was in the hospital.”
“All right. Give me a minute and we’ll get you on your way.”
The valet stepped out on the sidewalk and issued a shrill whistle. Seconds later a taxi pulled to the curb, and the young man opened the door for me. I knew I should tip him, but I only had hundred-dollar bills. Syd’s hundreds.
“Greyhound bus terminal,” the valet instructed the driver as I thanked him with a weak smile and slid onto the taxi’s rigid seat.
As the cab pulled from the curb, I peered out the window to the top floor. Had Syd come back to the suite? Would he be hurt, angry, or relieved when he discovered me gone?
Likely a combination of all three.
If he wanted to rip me a new asshole for running out on him—not that I expected Syd to show his face in Diamond City again—he knew where to find me.
“You get in a bar fight or something?” the cabbie rudely asked.
“Car wreck,” I replied, sticking to my lie.
The driver grunted as I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes.
Chapter 5
Syd
I washed the bile burning the back of my throat down with another sip of whiskey and tore open the next envelope from the stack.
I’d lied when I told the guys I’d seen more horrific shit in my life than they could imagine. The gang wars, murders, and drug overdoses I’d witnessed on the streets of Detroit paled in comparison to the sick, twisted shit Zattman had inflicted on so many poor, defenseless women. Knowing that Caris had been victimized, terrorized, and abused by the sick fuck gutted me in ways I hadn’t thought possible.
As I poured the photos out into my hand, my stomach clutched and my blood boiled.
“Oh, god, no!” I barked, dropping the photos as if they were snakes. “This girl is dead. She’s dead and that cocksucker’s fucking her.”
Burk blanched as he glanced at the photos by my feet, then quickly looked away. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
I wanted to puke, as well, and frantically swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth.
“H-how?” he stammered. “How can someone do shit like that? What’s so fucking twisted in their brain that they have to…”
“He’s insane or possessed by evil.” I sighed.
Burk warily eyed the stack of envelopes still left to open, then issued a muffled curse. Then he tossed back another gulp of whiskey, emptying his glass. The man rarely drank, and watching him down shot after shot told me he wasn’t dealing with our task well. I wasn’t, either, but I knew the images would haunt him deeper and longer.
“Look, why don’t I take the rest of these back to my room and finish going through them.”
“I’m good,” Burk answered, coughing on the booze’s burn.
“Yeah, but you’re gonna be shit-faced in another ten minutes. I don’t need Sofia shoving a skewer through my balls and roasting them over an open fire.”
“She knows what we’re doing. She’s the one who set out the liquid fortification.”
“I know, but…”
“You just want to go back and check on Caris.”
There was no sense lying. I’d made it clear she was special to me. “Yeah. I’m gonna try and talk her into coming to New York with us.”
“You want her joining us on the road?”
“At least until she’s healed.”
“I think it’s a great idea. Caris needs friends now. I know Mia will bend over backward to help her work through the shit Zattman did to her. Those two have a whole lot more in common than the spawn of Satan.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they’re both in love with my band brothers.”
“You’re drunk,” I drawled.
“Am not. I see the way Caris looks at you.”
“What look? You mean the sneer and glare that screams she’d love to cut off my junk with a dull butter knife?”
“Think what you want, man, but Caris looks at you t
he same way Sofia did me before I swept her off her feet and stole her heart.”
“Man, you are way drunker than I thought,” I scoffed. “Caris hates my guts.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Not.”
I flipped him off as I called down the hallway, “Sofia? Sorry honey, but your man is shit-faced.”
“Shhh,” Burk hissed loudly. “You’ll wake her.”
“Good. I hope she comes out and rips you a new asshole, ’cause that shit would be so fun to watch.”
“And you would watch, you slimy cockbag.” Burk grinned, then sobered as he glanced back at the envelopes. “Go on, take ’em. But if they get to be more than you can handle, text me. I’ll come to your room this time.”
“Deal.” I nodded.
After retrieving the photos from the floor, I gathered the envelopes and returned to my suite. The minute I walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. Tossing the photos on the coffee table, I rushed down the hall. The second I saw Caris’s door hanging open, my heart began thundering in my chest. Praying she was in the bathroom, I dashed into her room. Nothing. I then raced to the balcony, but she wasn’t outside.
Please let her be in my bed.
Turning on my heel, I sprinted to my room. As soon as I rounded the corner and saw a note on my pillow, denial screamed in my brain and exploded from my chest in a desolate howl.
I should have known she’d run, but like a fool, I thought she’d stick around and let me try to make things right. I never should have believed the doctor when he said Caris would sleep all night. Either she had one hell of a tolerance for sedatives or the little vixen hadn’t taken the meds.
I stormed to the bed and snatched up the note.
Syd,
I’m sorry to run out like this, but I have to get home. Thank you for all you’ve done for me tonight. I would be dead by now if not for you. I was wrong about you. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry, but I took a thousand dollars. Don’t worry, I’m not a thief anymore. I will pay you back, somehow. I promise.
Take care of yourself.
Caris
P.S. I lied. I still love hearing you sing, not Burk.
Her last line twisted my heart and sent rejection-laced rage blistering through me.
“Bullshit. If you still loved to hear me sing, you wouldn’t have taken off,” I roared.
Yanking the lamp off the nightstand, I heaved it though the air. The thud that filled the room as it crashed against the drywall was so satisfying, so freeing, I grabbed the phone, snapping off the cord, and sent it sailing next. The pathetic ding that echoed off the ringer lacked the depth I needed to placate my fury.
Undaunted, I picked up the fancy high-backed chair beside the bed and heaved it hard. As the thunderous explosion reverberated through my chest, I let out a maniacal cheer.
Wildly scanning the room to see what other inanimate objects I could sacrifice to my god of rage, I heard heavy banging from the door of my suite.
“Cock sucking party crashers,” I grumbled as I stormed down the hall and yanked the door open.
“What the fuck is going on in there?” Ross snarled, wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a scowl nearly as fierce as mine.
“None of your business,” I bit out and started to slam the door in his face.
But the big bastard was faster and stronger. Expending zero effort, he shoved me and the door open before stepping into the foyer.
“When my sleep is interrupted by what sounds like a herd of elephants trying to crash through the wall behind my head, it becomes my business,” he barked. “Where’s the girl?”
What? Was the prick insinuating that I was roughing Caris up?
“Do you honestly think I would—"
“Where is she? I want to see her now!”
“Me, too,” I replied, hating the tremor of weakness in my voice. “She took off.”
“Ross? Is everything okay?” Harmony called from the hallway.
“Go back to bed, princess. I’ll join you in a few,” Ross answered, poking his head out of the door before gripping the knob and closing it.
“Go back to bed with her, man. I don’t need you to hold my hand or change my tampon.”
The big drummer smirked and clapped a beefy hand on my shoulder. “No, you need me to help salvage what’s left of the room you’re destroying. I’ve been there, done that. Remember?”
“Like we could forget?”
When Ross had been addicted to cocaine, years ago, he’d gotten high as a kite and totally decimated a five-star hotel suite. Way worse than what I’d accomplished thus far.
“Then you should remember the media frenzy it created, too.”
“Let ’em print whatever they want. They will anyway.”
Ross chuckled. “Damn, man. Have you been absorbing my bad attitude all these years and masking it behind a bunch of stupid jokes?”
Poor fucker. He was totally clueless that my bad attitude had been developed at birth. I’d simply chosen to keep it from the rest of the world, especially my band mates.
“Come on,” Ross urged, steering me down the hall. “We’ll assess the damage and you can tell me why she bailed on you. It was because of your lame-ass jokes, right?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” he drawled as I led him into the room. Ross let out a long, low whistle. “Well, I suggest we call the front desk and tell them you’re not going to pay for the room.”
“Huh? They’re going run twenty grand or more through my credit card.”
“Not when you tell them you were trying to kill a mouse.” Ross winked. “They’ll comp you. Hell, maybe the rest of us too.”
“This is why you’re an asshole. I’m not going to lie and make up some—”
“Your choice.” Ross shrugged. “But don’t come crying to me if Quinn decides to fix your image problem. You might not get as lucky as the rest of us when we all fell cock over asshole for the women he dangled in our faces.”
“Lucky for me, I don’t have an image problem.”
“You will once the press finds out about this shit show.”
I scowled. “How big did you say that mouse was?”
“Around five foot three, with soulful dark eyes that have seen far more than they ever should have.”
“Yeah, and it’s all my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Ross asked, stacking up pieces of the shattered chair.
A part of me wanted to confess all my ugly sins, but self-preservation and pride overruled. Okay, so it was mostly fear that stopped me. I didn’t want to rip off my mask and risk rejection from him or the others.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” I shrugged and reached for the lampshade.
Ross plucked it up first and frowned. “It does matter. It matters a lot if it’s making you destroy shit. But if you’re not ready to talk about—”
“I’m not.”
“Fair enough. Then I vote we clean this shit up and get some sleep.” He placed the shade on what was left of the chair’s seat and sent me a grim nod. “If or when you’re ready to talk, I’m here for you, bro.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” And I actually did, for the first time in years.
When Ross’s world fell apart, I was pissed and hurt that he turned to drugs instead of us for help and support. We’d hoped that once he’d gotten clean and sober, we’d get our easygoing, happy drummer back. But we didn’t. We got a codgity, (Emma Halloran’s favorite word) antisocial asshole. He’d stopped laughing and smiling—unless he was on stage performing. The drugs had taken away Ross’s lust for life. Nothing or no one could reach him until Quinn had dropped Harmony Sharp in his lap. The beautiful, soft-spoken mountain woman with her synergistic crystals and motivational philosophies finally touched his sleeping psyche and brought the giant back to life.
And…I might have helped just a little. I knew by the sparks flying thro
ugh the air the instant Ross and Harmony clapped eyes on each other, we were all in for one hell of a show. Harmony was the epitome of pure, sweet innocence—until Ross defiled her seven ways to Sunday. I knew she flipped every switch the man possessed. Oh, he’d tried to push her away, like he’d succeeded with us, but I wasn’t going to sit back and let that happen. So, I’d poked the stubborn beast by making a few lascivious comments about tapping Harmony’s sweet ass. Thankfully, the other guys had stepped in before Ross beat me to a bloody pulp.
But in the end, Ross made the right choice and let Harmony inside his damaged soul. The change in him since was nothing short of miraculous. I wasn’t even jealous that the big prick and his girl were now making plans for their wedding.
I’d had the chance for my happy ever after with Caris and blown it.
“I think that’s the best we can do,” Ross announced, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Thanks for your help.”
Sympathy crawled across his face. “Whatever happened between you two happened for a reason. If you can’t get her back, learn the lesson she was meant to teach you and move on.”
I arched a brow at his enlightened statement and smirked. “You’ve definitely been around Harmony too long. Please, don’t start handing me crystals and shit.”
Ross flipped me off as we both stood and brushed away the drywall dust. “She is rubbing off on me, in all the right ways.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “I’m happy for you…for both of you.”
“Me, too.” Ross nodded. “Night, man.”
“Night.” I waved as he strolled down the hall and out the door.
Sitting on the edge of the bed again, I picked up Caris’s note and read each word, over and over. With soul-numbing acceptance, I realized we were even now.
I’d left her.
She’d left me.
The end.
But it wasn’t the end. Not for me. I couldn’t erase the memory of that soul-stealing kiss we’d shared in the shower.
Earth to dumbass. If she gave two shits about you, she would have stuck around and tried to patch things up, not stolen your cash and sneaked out in the middle of the night, a little voice in my head mocked.
