I fixed everyone a plate, including the kids. As I served each person, Violet’s gaze followed the plates. I made her another one, smaller this time. She beamed as I placed it in front of her, and then she dove in. “I’m beginning to really hate you now.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” I grinned.
Everyone finished eating and Violet didn’t rush off. The girls huddled near the kids and I grabbed my guitar, figuring Liam and I could jam a bit. Xander rushed me and I moved the guitar aside so he could climb into my lap. I positioned the guitar in front of him. “Just like last time, I’ll handle the part at the end and you brush the strings.”
Xander got his hand ready and I hit the first chord for Mary Had a Little Lamb. In my peripheral vision, Violet participated in an animated conversation with Faith and Emma, but every now and then, she glanced over at us. I wondered what she was thinking, how long she’d stick around.
A few minutes later, a shadow covered the guitar and Faith bent over to muss Xander’s hair. “It’s way past your bedtime, buddy. We gotta go.”
“Scarlet’s bedtime too.” Emma scooped up her daughter and threw her on a hip.
Hugs made the rounds and they filed out, leaving Violet and me alone again.
“I really should go too. Probably shouldn’t have had the second helping. All my energy is going toward digesting it.” She put a hand over her mouth while she yawned.
Damn. “I’ll walk you out.”
Just like the night before, I slowed as she neared her car. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to swoop. I stuffed my hands in my jeans pocket to ward against the chilly fall air. “Hey, what sounds good for dinner tomorrow?” Risky move, but if she said no, at least I’d know that she didn’t return my feelings and I’d have to keep them in check. I’d rather know now than weeks up the road after I was more invested.
“Surprise me.” She beamed and spun to get into her car. Then she turned around again. “You should probably know that after that horrible dinner tonight, I’m well on my way to detesting you.”
“Ditto.” I flashed her a smile and waved as she got into her car and drove away.
Chapter Eleven
Violet
With nothing vital on my schedule for the day, I stayed in bed the next morning way longer than I should have. Images of Sebastian and the sweet way he played guitar with Xander enveloped me like a soft, warm blanket that didn’t want to let me go. Before that, I’d been wondering if it was wise to see Sebastian again outside of work. But then I’d watched him with the kids and that had sealed the deal. What guy kept toys around the house for when his friends visited?
The good kind of guy.
I couldn’t wait to have my first bite of whatever he prepared for dinner later today.
As I climbed out from under the covers, I felt like a total slacker. I hadn’t slept well in weeks. Except the last two nights. And I had Sebastian to thank for finally being well rested. I’d gone to bed on a full yet settled stomach and had fallen asleep almost immediately. The nausea still teased me occasionally but thanks to the tea, I hadn’t vomited in days.
I chugged some water, then grabbed my running shoes, slipped into some yoga pants and a tank top, then pulled on a sweatshirt. It was winter, after all. I had a few more gulps of water while I toasted some bread so I didn’t get too hungry, then I brushed my teeth.
After grabbing my house key, I stuffed it in the tiny pocket of my yoga pants, clipped my cell phone on my waistband, then took a few more sips of my water and headed out the door. I locked up and walked down the long driveway to the sidewalk. The back of my neck tingled and I whirled around to see a girl in a black hoodie leaning against the fence and staring at me. Something about her brown eyes seemed familiar, called to me.
I watched her for a moment, wondering if she’d break eye contact with me, but she didn’t. I’d heard stories about criminals using seemingly helpless girls to trap unsuspecting women or hijack their cars. But if she was genuinely in need…“Do you need help?”
“Yes.” She didn’t move, didn’t even take her hands out of her pockets.
I quickly scanned the area, looking for a white van or anything suspicious. “How can I help?”
“I need information on Sebastian.”
Crazed stalker fan? And how did she know I knew him? How did she know where I lived? “How did you connect him to me?”
“You were on Periscope with him. You were also photographed with him recently at a restaurant. The Dish gave your whole name and I searched for everything about you that I could possibly find. Figured out you were Aidan Madison’s daughter, found the address to his office, then followed him home.”
My breath caught in my throat. She was either psychotic or desperate. Or both. “Why go through all that for info on Sebastian? I mean, you could always read up on him, like you did me, or find out if there’s a small venue where he’s appearing, talk to him at a Meet and Greet.”
“If I meet him, I don’t want a crowd.” She shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. “But before I even think about that, I have some questions.”
This was getting weirder and weirder. Instinct told me, though, she wasn’t the average stalker, if she was a stalker at all. “Does Sebastian know who you are?”
She twisted her lips into a frown and her gaze dropped, her face disappearing into the hoodie. “Yes.”
I softened my voice. “Before I tell you anything or arrange a meeting, I need to know who you are.”
Her shoulders shifted, pulled back and she raised her chin to meet my gaze. “I’m his sister, India.”
I gasped loud enough that the girl could hear from several yards away, but she didn’t seem fazed by it. Cool cucumber. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” As soon as she let the hoodie slide away, exposing her thick, dark hair, I saw the unmistakable resemblance to Sebastian. Identical smoky brown eyes, same thick wavy hair. She even had his face shape and skin coloring. And his stunning good looks. I cleared my throat. “Never mind.”
“Will you help me?” she asked, her eyes silently begging me.
I rocked back on the heel of my sneakers, mulling over my options. She’d been on her own for three years and who knew where she’d been or what kind of a life she’d lived. Could I even trust her in my house?
“Hey, are you hungry? Maybe we can go out for a bite to eat. My treat.” I smiled and started to head back toward the guest house for my purse.
She shook her head with vigor, the waves of her hair swishing against her shoulders. “I don’t accept charity.”
That was encouraging. At least I didn’t have to worry about her trying to squeeze Sebastian for money. “I mooched a couple of dinners off Sebastian recently, so I could pay it forward. Someday, you can pay it forward too. I need to grab my purse.” I vanished through my front door, snagged my purse, then darted back outside. She was still there. Whew!
“My car’s this way.” Without giving her a chance to say no, I made my way down the driveway toward the Lexus. I hit the fob and unlocked the door, jerking my head toward the passenger side.
She grabbed the door handle, then hesitated. “Is he a good guy?”
“Yeah, I think so.” A slow smile spread over my face. “Actually, he’s pretty great.”
The lines between her brows disappeared and I was pretty sure she almost smiled. She got in the car and strapped herself in. “I feel bad for making you miss your workout.”
“I have a light day. I’ll do it later.” I negotiated the Lexus out of the driveway and turned onto the street. “Any place in particular you’d like to eat?”
“Wherever.” She turned away from me and silence filled the car.
I pulled into the parking lot of a nearby diner that I knew had good pancakes. And they served real maple syrup, not the corn syrup garbage restaurants usually served. I was totally craving the real thing after Sebastian had slipped it into the salad dressing and my tea.
India may have had questions for me, but I could
probably see those questions and raise her a few more. But I held back. Sebastian would go crazy if he knew she was alive and in my car. If I said the wrong thing or asked the wrong question and she bolted, I’d never forgive myself. Neither would he.
Inside the restaurant and seated across from me, her eyes scanned the other patrons before zoning in on the menu.
“Do you have a place to live?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
I set my menu aside and locked gazes with her. “A good place? Are you safe?”
She blew out her breath in a long sigh. “I don’t know how much information I want to give you, because I know you’ll tell Sebastian and I haven’t completely decided yet that I want to see him.”
Though I didn’t want to push, she’d opened the door and I couldn’t resist. “Why wouldn’t you want to see your brother?”
She scoffed. “He left me there with th-them.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes.” Tears filled in her eyes and she pressed a trembling fist to her mouth.
“Hi, I’m Winona and I’ll be your server today.” The plump brunette smiled. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”
“Coffee, please.” I eyed India who didn’t look like she was capable of speech. My heart ached for her. How awful their parents must have been to her and Sebastian. The fact that he wasn’t thoroughly screwed up was probably a small miracle. I focused on the waitress. “Can you bring her some water until she decides?”
“Certainly.” She pocketed her pad and pencil, and took off.
“So where have you been the last three years?” I had a feeling she wouldn’t give me much. But maybe I’d get a tidbit, enough to know she wasn’t in serious trouble.
“I haven’t been on the streets or selling my body for drugs, if that’s what you want to know. Before I ran away, I researched my options to see where I’d end up if I got caught. Did you know that you can get into trouble for harboring a runaway?”
“Ah.” I nodded. “You don’t want Sebastian to know who helped you, so they don’t get into trouble.”
Since India didn’t comment on that and our conversation had stalled, I could use this time to put in a good word for Sebastian. “He told me your parents wouldn’t let him see you. That by the time he got the paperwork together to try to get custody of you, you’d already disappeared. He searched all over for you. Two private investigators later, and he still couldn’t find you.”
India’s face fell and she let out a whimper as her head slowly sunk toward the table until her forehead pressed against her wrists. The fabric of her hoodie muffled her sobs and I reached out my fingertips to stroke her hair and pat her quaking shoulders. She didn’t flinch from me.
After a long moment, she sniffed and lifted her head. She dabbed her face with a napkin and gave a watery laugh. “I didn’t know. I thought he’d abandoned me.”
“No.” I gave her hand a quick squeeze and withdrew. “He was devastated when he lost you.”
She nodded and sucked in a deep, trembling breath then whispered, “I want to see him.”
“I can take you directly to his place.” My chest nearly burst with excitement for Sebastian and my own desire to reunite them. But India didn’t seem totally stable and I didn’t want to overwhelm her. Softening my voice, I kept it casual.“Or we can wait. We can call first or just show up, however you want to play it.”
“No. I have to be sure.” She gnawed on a thumbnail, her eyes flitting around the room. “Someplace neutral. I want to be able to leave easily if I need to.”
“Okay.” The girl was jumpy and my nerves were wrecked from worrying if she was going to bolt at any moment. I was so close. “I could ask him to meet us here.”
“No, too public.” She patted her hoodie, making sure it was covering her head again.
I pursed my lips and searched my brain for somewhere she’d feel comfortable that wasn’t public or his house. “Maybe after we eat, we could go back to my place and hang out. Watch some TV and relax. Have a snack later. You know, just chill until you’re ready to see him. He can come to my house.”
The waitress returned and India ordered orange juice and waffles. I went for the pancakes, my mouth watering so much I had to swallow in a hurry so I didn’t spit on the table. The waitress pattered away and returned a moment later with India’s orange juice, and gave me a coffee refill. I took a moment to open up the tiny containers of half and half and dump them in my cup. After a taste test, I refocused on India. “Well?”
“Okay.”
My breath hitched. Unless India cleared out while I wasn’t looking, Sebastian was about to meet his sister after three long and very sad years.
Chapter Twelve
Sebastian
I’d always loved answering fan mail. It could get tedious at times, like when I was busy on tour, but when I didn’t have a lot going on, I loved talking to people. The weirdos were a different thing altogether. I moved all those emails to the “Psychos” folder and skipped to the next one. The normal fans were, after all, the reason I was a musician. What was the point in creating art or music without an audience? I wrote and played for them as much as for myself. Therefore, they were a part of my life. I wanted to talk to them.
My stomach growled and I hit the send button, shooting off an email to a teenager in Detroit. I closed my laptop, anxious to refuel, and my phone dinged. I dug it out of my pocket and checked the screen. Violet? I clicked on her name.
Want to come over for lunch?
Lunch, huh? I scratched my chin and stared at the text. We hadn’t made plans for today, other than dinner later. And if we got together before that, I had assumed I would be the one to initiate it. Well, I wasn’t going to question my good fortune. Good timing. I’m starving. Should I come over now?
Okay.
I wasn’t sure I appreciated the lack of enthusiasm in her text. But she wouldn’t have invited me over if she didn’t want to see me, right? Something was up. Bad news maybe? Some skank saying she was having my love child? I wouldn’t find out unless I got my ass to Violet’s house. I considered changing into something nicer than sweats, but that would take time. My stomach growled again, making the decision for me.
I grabbed my keys off the coffee table and headed out the door. Not wanting any paparazzi to find me so easily—thankfully they hadn’t figured out my new address yet—I didn’t take the Bugatti. Too high profile. I hopped into the Land Rover and headed out. Fifteen more minutes until food. What if she hadn’t ordered the pizza yet? Damn, I really should’ve had a snack before I left.
I parked the LR4 on the street in front of Aidan’s, scanned the vicinity for suspicious activity—like my bandmates planning a prank—then got out of the car when nothing popped out as unusual. After strolling up the driveway, past the main house to her little house, I knocked.
She opened the door, then glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t open it wide enough for me to come in. After another quick glance behind her, she opened the door a little wider. “Hey. Thanks for coming over.” She chewed her bottom lip.
Since when did you thank someone for coming over for lunch? And Violet wasn’t smiling. My bet was that she had an ulterior motive of some kind. This didn’t bode well for my stomach. And why was the place closed up? The only light filtered through the thin fabric of the closed curtains. And as nearly as my nose could ascertain, there was nothing cooking on the stove. “This isn’t about lunch, is it? What’s going on?”
“Actually, pizza should be arriving in a few minutes. But I have to run out for a bit.” She mashed her lips together, fidgeting and glancing again toward what was probably the door to her bedroom.
“You invited me over and now you’re leaving?” I blocked the door before she could escape. “What’s going on?”
Her whole body stilled, then she laid a hand on my chest, met my gaze and brought one hand up to cradle my face. “Do you trust me?”
I nodded, my stomach tightening. This w
as big, whatever she’d planned for me.
“Then let me go. I have some errands to run. Text me when you’re ready for me to come back.”
“Then I’d be texting you right now.” She attempted to skirt around me and I clamped my fingers around her wrist. “So you leave and I just sit here and wait? Not even a hint as to why I’m here?”
“There’s someone here to see you.” She reached up on her tiptoes and brushed my lips with hers. “It’s a good thing. Save me some pizza or I will shank you.”
She slipped out the door, leaving me completely baffled. There was someone else in her house? I spun to see a small figure in the doorway. The hoodie slid down to rest on her neck and my lungs froze. My throat burned and I wasn’t sure I could talk.
“Hey,” she said.
Was this some kind of joke? Or was this really my sister? The silhouette of her hair and her figure both looked like she could be my India. But shadows covered her face. I wanted to walk to her and make sure, but my brain couldn’t find my feet to send the command to move. My brain was really screwing up, because if this was India, my brain needed to tell my eyes that I wasn’t sad. Yet they watered and I was afraid that if I got closer and looked into this girl’s face, it wouldn’t be her. And I’d lose her all over again.
“It’s me. India.” She took a hesitant step forward and the sun breaking through the microscopic holes of the drapes cast just enough light for me to see for myself.
Tears leaked from my eyes and my throat swelled too thick for air or anything else to pass through. “India,” I croaked.
“Yeah, it’s me.” She closed the distance. Her chin quivered and her lashes clumped from tears.
“Oh, my God.” I scooped her up by her tiny waist, lifting her into a hug and squeezing as I buried my face in her hair. “India.”
I let myself go, weeping all over her and probably holding her way too tight, intent on never letting her go. Ever.
The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2) Page 10
