Stand: A Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel

by A. L. Jackson

  He flinched. “That’s the problem with all of this.”

  “This?”

  “The fact I can’t stay away from you when I know goddamned well that is exactly what I need to do. I just…”

  He rubbed a knuckle across his pursed lips. “I can’t fucking stand the thought of that piece of shit out there, Alexis. That he’s still on the street. A danger to you. I need you here…with me…until I know that threat is eliminated.”

  Emotion gathered fast. “So…I’m here because you want to protect me?”

  I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or overjoyed.

  His voice turned gruff. “You’re here because this is where I want you. Fact I can give you something you want so badly on top of it? Let’s call that the cherry.”

  His confession took possession of the air. Desire throbbed, crackling between us and throbbing between my thighs.

  I was in so much trouble.

  Blinking, I tried to bring us back to common ground. “So…” I said, looking around and forcing a smile. “How do we do this? I’m actually kind of nervous.”

  It was the truth. I’d wanted to play for as long as I could remember.

  He took a step forward, as if he were stepping out of that thick knot of tension that kept him rooted to the spot. His tone shifted, turning so sexy it sent another shot of attraction tumbling through me. “What are you nervous about?”

  My teeth caught my bottom lip, and I bit down, trying to fight the flush I could feel climbing to my cheeks.

  “How could I not be? I haven’t a single clue what I’m doing, and you, this rock star…” The last of my words changed course, veering into something incredulous. “You want to teach me how to play. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that’s a little bit intimidating.”

  He came closer. So close I caught the faint murmurings of cedar and spice. The scent radiating from this beautiful boy was distinctly man.

  Overwhelming.

  I inhaled a shaky breath, his presence rippling through me when he took another step in my direction. He was so close I could reach out and fall right in.

  His voice turned hoarse. “Don’t ever want you to feel intimidated by me.”

  Too late.

  I forced myself to look at him where he towered over me.

  “Okay.”

  He edged back a fraction, angling his head away as he muttered quietly, “I’m the one who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  I got the impression that statement had nothing to do with music.

  “Come on,” he said. His big hand settled back to that spot at the small of my back. The second he touched me, my breaths became shallow.

  He led me around the living area to the far wall where a baby grand piano was situated between the long island bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the living space and the bank of windows.

  I couldn’t stop from reaching out and running my fingertips across the gleaming wood. The instrument wasn’t the normal glossy black. Instead, it was a deep red. Mahogany dipped in chocolate.

  Zee released a shuddered breath, and my attention darted to his face.

  Panic and fear.

  “What’s the matter?” I whispered.

  He roughed an agitated hand through his hair. “It’s just…been a long time.”

  A frown pulled at my brow. “You don’t…play?”

  His smile was pained. “Not in a lot of years.”

  I blinked at him, trying to see through the veils and secrets and mystery. I settled on the obvious. “But you miss it.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  I turned back to face the piano. “And still, you brought me here.”

  “Yeah,” he repeated.

  How was it possible to make sense of this conflicted man? I could feel it, his spirit being cut in two, as if he were desperate for one thing and terrified to claim it.

  And again, he was taking a leap for me.

  He cleared his throat, breaking up the intensity. “So…have you ever taken any sort of lessons before?”

  “Fourth grade music. Mrs. Lindstrom. I could play a mean recorder.” I smiled at him, wishing it might hold the power to erase whatever was tormenting him.

  He chuckled. “Impressive.”

  “I thought so.”

  “She teach you how to read music?”

  I cringed. “A little, but I honestly don’t remember much about it.”

  He nodded. “That’s okay. If you know how to read, you can learn how to read music. It’s like learning another language. It just takes time and commitment.”

  Time and commitment.

  I was all too willing to give it if it meant I got to spend more time with him.

  “That sounds…difficult.”

  Movement twitched that gorgeous mouth almost into a grin. “And here I thought you were up for the challenge.”

  “I am…I just…I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  A sound of frustration jutted from his nose. “Don’t think that’s a possibility, Alexis.”

  He sighed again before he reached down and pulled out the stool. “Sit,” he said, and I complied. He rested his hands on my shoulders. A shiver raced down my spine.

  What was he doing to me?

  “I’m going to give you some things to study at home before I see you next time. But for today, the thing I want you to take away is music is all about feeling. Yes, there are techniques and rules, and you’re going to learn all of those. But music lives above them. Beyond them. Despite them.”

  His breaths were all around me, his presence eclipsing me from behind.

  Energy lapped and pulsed, his heart erratic where it pounded at my back. He leaned in, arms caging, fingers poised at the keys. His muscles twitched and bowed, and I swore I could see the ink imprinted on his skin begging to play.

  The shiver of that bleeding star.

  “Lay your hands over mine.”

  My breath was a rasp when I did. Everything came alive, zapping and sparking in the air.

  I could feel his sharp inhale, the way his big body trembled where he stood behind me, the quake of his hands as he played a single chord.

  A gush of air rushed from his mouth as soon as he did, as if he were staggered by the sound echoing against the walls.

  I felt it the moment he gave, the enormity strike in the room when he began to play.

  Talented fingers flew across the keys, taking mine with them.

  They spun a web of beauty.

  A maze of sorrow.

  I shuddered, wanting to beg him to sing the lyrics. To show me it all. What lived in his mind and dwelled in his spirit.

  His voice grated in my ear. “Do you feel it, Alexis? It’s about tapping into the emotion. The pain. The joy. The love. The lust.” Those last words were rough, spinning through my senses. Heat pounded through my body.

  I moved with him.

  With the feeling.

  With the ebb and flow of his body.

  His fingers flew. The song growing in intensity. Something magical.

  “Do you feel it?” The words were a pant, as if he were captured. Removed. Lost in a place that, for a time, only belonged to me and to him.

  “It’s alive. A light shining somewhere in space, just waiting for us to harness it. To capture it. To give it a voice and life. Tell me you feel it.”

  “Yes.” It left me on a needy rasp.

  Because I could.

  I could feel it.

  I could feel the intensity. I could feel the beauty. I could feel his talent.

  A tremble of desire vibrated through my being, and I could feel his erection pushing into my back.

  Maybe it was only that, the lust that bled from the song.

  A song that was somehow both desperate and bittersweet.

  Foreign and somehow known.

  But I wanted to get closer. Turn and find what would be on his face. The passion and need.

  “Does it always feel like this? Every time you play?
Every time you’re on a stage?”

  The song slowed, his heart still a thunder, his breaths choppy and short. He hesitated before he finally said, “Only here…when I’m in front of a piano.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. I angled around the side of him so I could see his face.

  It dizzied my senses that were already overwhelmed. “Then why the drums?”

  Those brown eyes raged in a full-blown war. As if he were trapped in a vacant space between the power of that song and the shackles of his reality. “Because I owe my life to my brother.”

  At his admission, a breath parted my lips. I knew he was offering me a veiled part of himself. A glimpse into that place that too often went dim. Part of his truth.

  Bewildered, I searched his face and his expression and those hypnotic eyes. My mind raced with all the questions that seemed silenced on my tongue.

  Warily, he reached out, his hand splayed wide. He cupped the entire side of my face.

  I trembled, couldn’t breathe.

  “Lex.” It was a murmur that twisted my belly into a thousand intricate knots, while every other part of me came undone.

  Completely at his mercy.

  I swore I could see it, the desire that crackled in the atmosphere.

  A shrill ring sliced through the intensity.

  Zee jerked back as if he’d been burned. I blinked, fighting the flash of rejection that welled too fast and stung my eyes.

  How did he manage to make me question things I’d never questioned before? I’d never been the kind of girl to doubt my value or merit, yet there I sat with my head spinning.

  I had no clue where I stood, if I was falling, and if I was, where I was going to land.

  Because I found the only thing I wanted with him was to start.

  And every word out of Zee’s mouth pointed at the temporary.

  He raked a hand down his face. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?” I pressed, digging deeper, desperate for something. Desperate for him to let me into the place I could feel him steadily taking me to, whether he wanted me there or not.

  The words left his mouth like a dirty confession. “I’m sorry I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

  My voice was the softest plea. “What if I don’t want you to?”

  Bitterness curved his mouth, words tight with regret. “And what if I don’t have anything good to give you?”

  “Everyone has something to offer, Zee. Everyone. Living is a choice. We decide how we wake up each morning and face the day. Either we’re led by hope or ruled by fear. And I won’t let circumstances define me. Maybe I’m a fool, because I will stand or I will fall, but I will never, ever allow fear to clip my wings.”

  I glanced back at the piano, my spirit still dancing with the magnitude of his song that had been held back for too long, with the stark, blinding reality that for some reason this man had stopped living for himself.

  I turned back to look up at him. “Maybe you’ve just forgotten how to fly.”

  Pain lashed across his face. “No man is free if he’s already condemned.”

  His words struck me like sorrow, and I wanted to reach out. Hold him. Touch him. Beg him to touch me.

  His phone rang again. Cursing under his breath, he glanced at it, gripping it so tight I thought he would crush it in his hand. “I’m sorry. I need to return this.”

  Disappointment slowed my nod. “I guess that’s my cue, then.”

  Feeling like I’d run a marathon, dragged and pushed and pulled, I stood from the piano, reached down, and grabbed my bag. Slinging it over my shoulder, I headed for the door.

  “Shit,” he muttered quietly from behind me before his heavy footsteps were suddenly moving across the floor. “Fuck, Alexis, don’t go.”

  I sped up, that nonexistent self-preservation finally kicking in.

  He snatched me by the wrist and tugged me around, forcing me to face him. His expression a map of conflict and turmoil. His voice dropped lower. “Don’t go.”

  Sadness clutched my chest. “If I give myself, Zee, I give myself with all I have. With everything I have. I give and I give, and I let people take and take. But with you? I’m not sure I can handle you not giving in return, because I have no idea what it is you want from me.”

  Honesty. Sometimes it was brutal. Sometimes it was hard to confess. Sometimes it made you vulnerable and small.

  I was transparency. He was fog and mirrors.

  He fisted a hand, pushed it against his mouth as if he were trying to keep the words in.

  The second he dropped it, they rushed out. “I…I want to teach you. I want you to come back. I want…” He trailed off, leaving his intentions hanging in the air.

  He blinked. “Most of all, I need to know you’re safe. Until that bastard is behind bars, I need to know you’re safe.”

  I raked my teeth over my bottom lip, searching for ground when he’d already knocked me off my feet. “You confuse me.”

  A regretful smile pulled at his mouth. “Believe me, gorgeous, you confuse me, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Zee

  “So that means an additional three months?”

  From behind his desk, Anthony rocked back in his chair, attention jumping to each of us who were sitting in his office. “That’s what it would require. Some of the big cities will be two shows. They expect every stop to sell out. Nothing but coliseums and stadiums. The money is…” Anthony shook his head. “It would be insane to pass it up.”

  Crazy this was everything we’d ever wanted. What we’d worked and strived and fought for. The bullshit my crew had endured. The life my brother had been dragged into.

  The devastation and destruction. The victories and the triumphs.

  I’d been there for the lowest lows. Now we were sitting at the highest high.

  And I was certain I’d never sat through a heavier meeting.

  Lyrik looked at the ground where he rested his forearms on his knees. He rubbed a tattooed hand over the back of his neck, weary when he looked back up. “That’s a lot of time away from home, man. We were already gonna be gone for four months. Now you’re asking for seven?”

  Could feel the agitation churning through Austin where he sat to the side of me, it even clearer with the way he scrubbed both hands down his face. “Seven months. More than half a year.”

  Austin was our lead singer, and just like me, he had stepped up to take his older brother’s place in the band. Though their circumstances were entirely different since his brother Baz was sitting to the other side of him, there to support us through every decision we made.

  The guy was still just as much a part of this band as he was the day he’d stepped down to spend more time with his family and started producing our albums rather than standing out in front of them.

  He’d said his heart couldn’t take it, being out on the road and leaving his family behind.

  Which led us to the crux of things.

  Tension bounded off the walls, the room far too small to contain the friction that clashed and contended. The loyalty and devotion and commitment that was spinning and raging.

  Problem was, none of us really knew exactly what that meant anymore.

  Austin gave a harsh shake of his head, something like grief striking in his hoarse voice. “God…Sadie will probably be walking by the time I get home.”

  Austin’s wife, Edie, had given birth to Sadie three months ago. The baby girl was the light of his life.

  Grief got me by the throat. I totally understood. My days were always like that.

  Limited. Just glimpses and flashes into what could’ve been.

  Lyrik sighed and looked in Austin’s direction. “You think I don’t get it, man? You think I want to take off and leave Tamar and Adia behind for that long? Barely get to see Brendon as it is. This is just…brutal.”

  Anthony cleared his throat, his tone riddled with his own hesitation. “You know the only thing I want is the best for each of y
ou. The best for your families. But I’ve also watched you work your asses off for years to get to this point. I’ve seen the dedication and commitment to your goals. The blood, sweat, and tears that came with it. The sacrifice.”

  His gaze bounced around to each of us. “I know what it is you’ve told me you want, and this is it. The culmination. And it’s not like you won’t be able to come home on breaks, or your families can’t meet you wherever you are. I promise you, we’ll make this work.”

  I knew it was hard for him to push us in this direction. But he’d also always done what was best for the band. After all, that was what we’d hired him to do.

  Lyrik shook his head, dark hair in his face. “You know it’s not that simple anymore. We have babies we don’t need to go jetting into foreign countries. The girls…they have their own ambitions. Don’t want Tamar to think it’s her duty to follow me around the world just because I’m living my dream.”

  Baz lifted his chin to Lyrik. “But you know she’d do it for you if you asked her to.”

  Affection deepened Lyrik’s tone. “Of course she would. Just like any one of our girls would. Which is why I don’t want to uproot her when she’s happy. Settled.”

  Anthony thrummed his fingers on the desk, filled with his own agitation. “I’ll make sure there’s time for you guys to get a break at least once a month so you can come back home for a few days. Some of them I know we can fit in a week or two.”

  Lyrik tilted his face toward the ceiling, rubbing his throat, contemplating.

  Austin sighed and sat back in his chair.

  Everyone turned to Ash who’d remained silent the whole time. Dude was leaned over like he might be sick to his stomach, holding his head.

  He suddenly jerked his head up. “Is this what everyone wants?”

  Austin banged his head back on his leather seat. “It’s our fucking job.”

  “Yeah,” Lyrik agreed. “Nothing none of us didn’t expect. Just fuckin’ sucks when it sneaks up on you.”

  My knee bounced a million miles a minute, hating the idea of being gone that long. Not with the shit that was going down with Veronica. Not with her going off the rails and shunning the agreement we’d made.

  Not with Alexis.

  The thought hit me unbidden. It should’ve been warning enough. An omen I was treading on thin ice. The fact I was even considering her in the midst of everything I was already trying to balance was straight stupidity.