“I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see those two talking again,” Naomi says also watching Theo and Marcus walk down the hall, laughing and joking together before they disappear into a room I’m yet to see.
“Is this the part where you ask me not to take him away again?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee. The caffeine is certainly helping to wake up my sleep-deprived brain.
She tilts her head a little as if she’s studying me. “I’m happy he’s found you. I’ve never seen him like this. He looks at you like the stars shine in your eyes.”
“But?”
“But I love Theo. I want to marry Theo. And he won’t marry me without his brother there. He doesn’t feel like a whole man without his family around. You should have seen how excited he was to come and see Marcus today. Don’t let that brash exterior fool you, the man is a puppy dog, and he lives for his loved ones.”
“You’ll still be able to see him. He’s just retiring from the public eye.”
“And look what happened when you popped up again. If Marcus disappears then reappears for our wedding, it’ll become a circus. And I know it sounds selfish, but it’s supposed to be about me and Theo.”
“I get it. I do. I just…I don’t know how to make this work. This kind of attention doesn’t go away with an interview or two. It’s constant harassment. Physically and mentally, I can’t go through it again. And I feel blessed to have found a man who understands that.”
“At what price?”
My eyes burn and I look away.
“Listen,” Naomi says, her voice gentle as she reaches out and touches my arm, “I’ve been on the wrong side of the press as well, so I get it. When Marcus had his ‘fuck you’ moment, all the press wanted to do was talk to us about what happened. But Theo, myself and our other band members decided that we would simply refuse to comment and ignore the whole affair. It was hard for me, because I got a fair bit of hate mail from fans who thought I chose the wrong brother. But, you know what? Fuck them. They don’t know me. They don’t know Theo, or Marcus for that matter, and they certainly don’t know you. Don’t let them win.”
Shaking my head, I lean back and fold my arms over my chest. “I wish it were that simple, Naomi. But it’s not. Do you even know why they hate me so much? Do you remember what I did?”
She nods. “Yeah. I do. It was everywhere.”
“Then you know how bad everything got. It wasn’t just hate mail and questions. I couldn’t go anywhere without someone calling me ‘whore’, ‘bitch’, ‘psycho’ or some derivative of all three. I had things thrown at me, my car, my house. I was spat on. God only knows how long it would have gone on for if I hadn’t decided to lie low and change my name. It’s the only way I could make it stop.”
She takes a breath to say something to me, but Theo calling from the other room interrupts us. “Nomes, get in here and see this setup he has. It shits all over the garage.”
Calling out that she’s coming, she stands and places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “I know this is hard for you. But if you can stick it out, maybe we can all get what we want instead of Marcus being the guy who loses everything he’s worked his life towards.”
Tears prick in my eyes as I swallow back my emotions and nod. “OK.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she says quietly.
I sit and finish my coffee on my own, running through my conversation with Theo and Naomi along with every moment since Marcus and I met. I love him. I love him so much my chest aches when I think about him. My ideal life is quiet and secluded, something a gregarious man, whose first instinct is to reach for a guitar will eventually despise. He wants it now, but what about in five, ten years? Will he look back and resent the loss of his fancy lifestyle and private recording studio? Will he look at me and regret his choice? I will ruin you. I don’t want to be his downfall. I don’t want to be the woman who robs the world of Marcus Bailey’s soulful voice.
My hope wants me to stay right here, wait for them all to come back, pretend that everything will be fine. We’ll just ride it out and live together happily ever after...until he resents me…
Fuck. Naomi is right, I can’t take him out of his world. And Theo is right, the press will never stop coming for us, we’ll always be running. I was right in the beginning. This can’t work. We are oil and water. And I’m not strong enough to tell him I need to leave and actually go through with it. And he wouldn’t let me go if I did.
There’s only one solution.
Picking up my bag and shoes, I walk quietly through the foyer and call the lift. I wince when it dings open, stepping inside with my heart beating wildly, leaving like the chicken-shit-scum-of-the-earth bitch that I am. I’m sorry.
Seventeen
Marcus
“I think this is the first time I’ve actually hated you, Marcus,” Naomi says after a while. She’s joking of course, referring to my recording room.
I had it built in so I can put down a demo track whenever it suits me without having to organise studio time. I haven’t had much of a chance to use it. But I did manage to record the song I was working on for Theo. He loved it, called it my best work. Then he asked if I was sure about walking away. “The world needs your talent,” he said.
“What about what I need?” I responded. Then I handed him the recording and told him it was his. That was all I was willing to say about it.
Naomi and Theo play around with the equipment, chattering about ways to upgrade the studio Theo built them at home. They’re totally geeking out together, and it’s adorable. But I have someone my heart wants more than music. “You two have fun,” I say, leaving the room to get back to Lisa. I’ve already been away from her for too long and my hands tingle, craving the feel of her skin.
“Sorry about that…” I say to the empty room. “Lisa?”
The lift dings. Shit. My heart thuds and my mouth goes instantly dry as I race towards the sound, getting there just in time to lock eyes with her as the lift doors close.
Fuck. “Lisa,” I yell, running to the lift and hitting the button. But I’m too late, it’s already on the move. “God-fucking-dammit!”
The only choice I have is to take the stairs. Flinging the door open, I burst out onto the landing and run down at breakneck speed. The whole time I’m racing the elevator, praying that she is OK, that the press hasn’t gotten to her before I do. I’m gonna drag her back up here and tie her to the damn bed. What is she thinking?
Reaching the downstairs lobby, I burst out the door and check the lifts. It’s still moving. Fuck!
“Sir?” Serge questions as he sees the panicked look on my face.
I flick my gaze to him, just as the press outside sees me through the glass entryway.
“Marcus!” they call out, cameras flashing as they push against the police barricade. Holy shit. The crowd has doubled since yesterday. And there're protestors now as well. They’re holding up signs with pictures of Lisa with an X over her face. One has a rather graphic one of her as a spider with my head in her mouth… what the fuck is wrong with people?
Shaking the images from my mind, I turn on my heel and re-enter the stairwell, racing down to the parking garage and hoping that I’m not too late.
Lisa
A few minutes earlier…
“Lisa!”
My mouth drops open and I stumble backwards in surprise. Marcus. He saw me. Shit. Fuck… oh god, I think I might vomit. What am I doing? Crap. I lean forward on my knees and breathe for a moment, convincing myself that I’m doing the right thing. He’ll hurt for a while, but he’ll throw himself into his music and write a series of massive hits. Then he’ll go on tour and fuck so many groupies he’ll forget all about me. I’ll go live my quiet life with my dog and all will be right with the world again.
But first, I need to get out of here.
My heart wedges itself in my throat as I travel down. My plan is to make it to the parking garage and escape through an emergency exit. I just ha
ve to hope that I don’t set off any alarms.
Fuck. I’m a total bitch. I hate the idea of Marcus hurting because of me. But I can’t let my hope of love and a happy ending get in the way of what the right thing is. This isn’t a movie. It’s real life. I need to be logical. I need to protect him from his own stubbornness.
Regaining my composure, I stand up fully and smooth my hand over my hair. The lift pings and comes to a stop on the third floor.
“No, no. Keep going. Shit.” Dropping, my head, I dig through my handbag to find my sunglasses and hide my face.
“Leisel.” I snap my head back up and curse the universe when I’m once again looking into the blue eyes of Jonathan Masters. “What a pleasant surprise.” He grins as he steps in next to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He grins and bounces a shoulder nonchalantly. “Just visiting a friend. A lot of press out there today. She feels like she can’t go outside.”
“And how does your fiancée feels about this friend?”
“She’s at a spa or something. As long as she has the ring and the Platinum Card, she doesn’t question anything I do.”
“Ah, true love,” I sigh mockingly. The lift opens in the car park and I step out in front of him. Pausing for a moment while I survey the area for a way to get out.
“Lost your car?” he asks.
“No, I’ve just lost my mind and my right to a quiet life, but as long as you’re happy…” I retort. Just seeing him again makes me so angry. I feel like running a car into his house all over again.
“Listen, Leisel. Despite everything that’s happened, I don’t hate you. I’m actually sorry the press are after you again. And if you need help sneaking out, I’ll help you.”
I respond with a suspicious look, which garners a laugh from him.
“Come on Leis, you know me. I may be a philanderer, but I’m not a vindictive person. I would never throw you to the wolves. You can hide in the back seat of my car and I’ll get you out of here. That’s what you want isn’t it? You’re trying to run off again?”
Meeting his eyes, I nod.
“Then let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to trust him, but he seems like the best option for me at the moment. “OK”
Marcus
A loud metallic echo rings out through the cement garage as the door bangs against the wall and I step out into the cool air of the underground. The sound of a car going over the speed bumps draws my attention and I race toward it.
I catch it as it waits for the metal security gate to open and knock on the driver’s window.
“Shit. It’s you,” I say, slightly out of breath from running.
“It is me,” Jonathan Masters, Lisa’s ex-fiancé and the start of all this crap, replies, looking me up and down like I’m some kind of freak who’s wasting his time. “Is this about an autograph? Do you want one?” He’s a dick.
“Is she with you? Did you see her?” I ask, trying to get a look inside his car, but his window is barely down and I can’t see much more than his face.
“Is who with me?” He drives forward slightly when the gate’s alarm goes off because it’s been open for too long, and I walk beside his car, refusing to let him go without answering me.
“Who the fuck do you think? Leisel. Did you see her leave?”
“You know Leisel? Is she here?”
“Who the fuck do you think all this press is for?” And as if he doesn’t know me.
“Me. Obviously.” He chuckles before moving the car again and once again, I move with him, keeping my hand on the edge of his window.
“Even you can’t be that conceited. Did you see her or not?”
“Not. Now if you’ll let go of my car, I’d like to get out of here. Paparazzi tends to mess up my wax job.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Mate, I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt. If you’re lying to me, the next time a car goes through the front of your house, it’ll be me behind the wheel. You feel me?”
“One hundred percent, mate,” he says, putting his car in gear and speeding off just as someone in the crowd shouts my name.
“It’s him. It’s Marcus Bailey.”
I turn to run back into the parking garage, but the fucking door has already closed, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a plain T-shirt. No shoes. Nor do I have my keys so I can get back in.
Fuck.
Lisa
“You can sit up now. We’re clear,” Jonathan says after we’ve been driving for about ten minutes.
I pull the blanket off me and get up from the floor of the back seat, looking around cautiously.
“Leis, relax. I’m not lying to you. If you’ll remember, I never once threw you under the bus publicly. I never spoke out against you, and I dropped all the charges against you. I was pissed off, but I didn’t want your life turned upside down the way it was.”
Sliding onto the actual seat, I pull my seatbelt on and look out the window. “I know. I did it all to myself.”
He looks at me via the rear-view mirror. “You always did have a temper on you.”
“And look where it got me. I hate this fame game, Jonathan. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I guess that’s because you’ve always been famous. When you come up from nothing, it makes it a little more rewarding.”
“I don’t want to be known for anything. I just want to be left alone,” I reply, looking down at my hands.
“What are you going to do about Marcus Bailey? Are you leaving that behind too?”
I close my eyes, squeezing my emotions back before they flow out of me again.
‘I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt’
The comment, and the distress in his voice keep replaying in my mind. There’s this intense heaviness in the centre of my chest that aches and nags at it. It wants me to go back to him.
I swallow against it, wishing it would go away. “Yeah. I have to leave it behind. He’s just like you. It won’t end well if I stay.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“No offence, but after you broke up with me, I wasn’t chasing after you like he just did.”
“It doesn’t matter. Every way I look at this, I can’t see it working without one of us giving up on something that’s important to us. For me, it’s my privacy, and for Marcus, it’s his career. One of us would be forced into unhappiness. How can that work?”
Marcus
“Oh my god! It’s Marcus!” Someone screams and all of a sudden, I’m being pawed by many sets of hands, grabbing at my shirt, my arms. The cops immediately come to my aid and push the grabby people back. My shirt is in tatters.
Flashes are going off everywhere, making it hard to see what’s happening. The yelling and the questions are this cacophony that makes absolutely no sense. I’m thrust through the front door of my apartment building, almost tripping from the momentum.
I keep moving forward, feeling awful that all of this is happening because I’m living here. The other residents must hate my guts right now. No one knew I was here until yesterday. I had hoped I could come back to Australia and have some sort of a home for a while instead of living out of hotels. I guess that’s just not going to happen.
“Hey Serge,” I say as I walk barefoot towards him.
“Mr Bailey,” he replies with a nod, acting completely professional despite my appearance.
“Do you think you could give me a hand to get back upstairs? I didn’t bring my keys.”
“Certainly, sir.”
As I ride up in the lift, I seriously have to fight with myself to keep from bursting into fucking tears. Why did she have to take off? Why couldn’t she stay, talk to me and sort this out? I get that she’s scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But she ran. She fucking ran. Without me.
“Fuck,” I ye
ll, slamming both hands into the side of the lift. “Fuck.” I do it again and again before dropping my head against the cool of the metal. “Fuck,” I whisper, just breathing to calm myself until the lift reaches my floor.
The moment I make it inside my apartment, Theo and Naomi are on me. “What happened? You’re on the fucking news again.”
“She took off,” I reply, zero emotion in my voice. I’m numb. I’m fucking numb.
“She what?” Naomi gasps. “Oh no.”
Moving with purpose, I collect my keys, wallet and put on a pair of shoes and a new shirt.
“I feel like this is my fault,” Naomi says, watching me in the doorway.
“How is it your fault?”
“Because I asked her to consider what she was doing to you,” she squeaks. “I only meant for her to think about sticking around so you didn’t have to leave. I never meant…”
“Fuck,” I yell, pegging my torn shirt across the room. “Fuck. When are you people going to realise that I’m doing this because it’s what I want? Can you seriously tell me that either of you wouldn’t do the same if it meant you could be together?”
They look at each other and Theo nods. “You’re right, brother. I’d go to the ends of the earth for her.”
“Well, me too. And now I have to go back out there and try to find her before this shit storm gets even worse.”
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I really didn’t—”
“I know.” Standing in front of her, I pull her into my arms and hug her tight. “And I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’ve been an arsehole, and you didn’t deserve it.” I release her and turn to Theo. “Neither did you,” I say, holding out my hand.
He takes it and pulls me into a hug. “Water under the bridge. Now, let’s go out there and find your girl.”
“What?” Naomi looks between us.
Theo stands up and grabs his keys. “We need to take him. They’ll follow his car.”
Rock (Beautiful Book 4) Page 18
