“A couple of weeks after prom, I stopped by his locker and imagine my surprise when hanging in his locker, I saw a photo of the two of you in prom clothes. That’s when I figured out what the emergency was. His pathetic best friend from back home needed a date. And Dawson, being the sweet guy he was, dropped everything to take care of you.”
“I’m sorry,” I croaked out. “I didn’t know he was going to come.”
She glared at me. “I was forced to be patient again. But he never even talked to me more than a few words after that. I practically threw myself at him, and he didn’t even bat an eye.”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out a pistol. My heart stopped. She was going to kill me.
Waving it around, she said, “I grew tired of being patient. I started paying attention. I studied all your social media accounts and his. He always talked about your hair. So, I started dying mine. And I know how men feel about boobs. Yours were bigger than mine, so as soon as I turned eighteen, I got a boob job.”
She pressed her hands beneath her tits, lifting them higher. If they were ever small, they certainly weren’t anymore.
“And he liked them. I even got him to sign them after a show once.” She pulled down the neck of her shirt revealing Dawson’s signature across the highest part of her chest. “After he signed, I went straight to a tattoo shop and made it permanent.”
She was delusional.
“I was there when he signed that.” I nodded my head in her direction.
“Ding, ding, ding. I was there to rekindle an old flame. Imagine my surprise when I saw you by his side. There was never any mention in the news about him having a girlfriend, yet there you were. You were like a case of herpes, lurking beneath the surface waiting to flare up and ruin the moment for me time and time again.”
The gun pointed at me. Think, Izzy.
“So, you started to write him letters?” I asked.
“Oh, I’d been writing to him for years already by that point. My letters just changed,” she said calmly. Her tone a direct contrast to the frenzied pointing with the pistol.
“How’d you get that picture of us in Paris?” I asked.
“I thought you were supposed to be smart, Izzy.” She shook her head over my apparent stupidity. “I was there. I took the photo myself.”
“You just happened to be there when we were there?” I frowned at her.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I purposely trailed the band to many shows.”
I needed to keep her talking until I could figure something out. “How were you able to do that?”
“Well, you see, the guys always got extra tickets to give out to their friends and families. Jett frequently sent his parents a pair of tickets. They never went to see any shows. But when I found out they just let their tickets go to waste, I made my daddy get them for me. He owns the company Jett’s father works for. Daddy gave me the tickets. I didn’t go to every single show. I did have a life outside of Dawson. But I went to many like a loyal girlfriend should.” She tapped the barrel of the gun against her palm.
She walked to the door and pressed her ear against it.
Keep distracting her, Izzy.
“It was pretty clever what you did, turning the photo into a puzzle.”
“Thanks. I thought Dawson would enjoy the mystery. I never realized he didn’t even get my letters for so long. But now he knows. I finally caught his eye. I never meant for things to go this far. He was supposed to wake the hell up and leave you before now. I was planning our big reunion a few weeks ago when he was supposed to be here doing the special show for their Ohio fans. But once again, he abandoned me for you.” She shook her head sadly.
Oh, no. This girl was rapidly devolving. I needed to get the gun from her. But my hands were still tied. I wiggled some more.
“You know, we wouldn’t be here right now if I could’ve gotten up to full speed a little bit faster that night in South Carolina. You wouldn’t have had an art show at all. He wouldn’t have cancelled the concert here. He and I would be together right now. And I’d be helping him mourn the senseless death of his childhood best friend.”
This nut job had tried to run me over. The ropes around my wrists loosened a little.
“It was you who ruined my art and tried to run me over?”
“Yes. Sorry about the art. I’d much rather have just stolen it. You’re a very good artist. But I needed to send a message. And that painting of you two in Paris… so sweet.”
She walked over to the door again and listened for a moment. “Show’s still going, so we’ve got more time. I have their set list memorized. They have three more songs and an encore. Anyway, Dawson seemed to get the message. He left you. Everything was finally working. And then somehow you convinced him to leave me again and come to you. But I’ve learned a lot through these experiences. My love has grown stronger with the obstacles. And I know I can’t leave anything to chance anymore. I have to finish this myself.”
“You’ll never get away with this. I’ll scream. Security is everywhere.”
“No one will hear you with the concert still going strong. And security is too busy keeping the fans from getting backstage to come investigate an area that should be empty right now.”
“If you hurt me, you’ll break his heart. I thought you loved him,” I tried.
“Broken hearts heal. It may take time, but he’ll get over you. And when he does, I’ll be ready.”
Chapter 24
Dawson
Something was wrong. I felt it in my gut, in every cell of my body. I tried not to let it show or affect my performance. Our fans deserved my best.
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that Izzy was in trouble. Her unshakable headache was plaguing me. What if it was more?
Thank God for muscle memory because I sure as hell couldn’t remember the notes or lyrics to whatever we were playing.
Screw it. When we got to the bridge, I sauntered over to Brooks. His brow quirked up at me in question. He stepped back from his mic but continued to play.
I shot a look at the rest of the guys, silently communicating with them.
“What’s up, man?” Brooks mumbled to me.
“Something’s wrong. I can’t explain it. Just a feeling. I need to go check on Izzy,” I whispered.
“Go, we’ll improvise out here.”
“I’m sorry.” I unplugged.
Brooks clasped my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got you.”
I waved to the crowd and disappeared off stage. With fumbling fingers, I pulled my guitar off and passed it to one of the techs. I didn’t pause to listen to whatever explanation Brooks offered the crowd. But their answering roar filled the air.
I ran down the hallway. No one was around. My vision narrowed to just the door at the end of the hall. My dressing room.
When I got to it, I turned the knob. It was locked.
I reached in my pocket and dug out the key.
When the door swung open, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Izzy’s name froze in my throat. She was tied to a chair. My gaze roved the room rapidly.
In the back, where my stuff was stashed, a woman with pink hair was going through my bag. Cleo?
When the woman spun around, my heart stuttered to a stop. It wasn’t Cleo. She was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her. A gun dangled from her hand.
“Oh, hey, Dawson. What are you doing here already?” she asked, smiling brightly at me.
“This is my dressing room,” I offered with a shrug. Where was Joe?
“I know that, silly. That’s why I’m waiting for you here. You’re just early. Your show’s not over yet, so what are you doing here now?” She frowned.
“Uh… I wasn’t feeling very well,” I said with a grimace.
“Oh, you poor baby. Let me get you something to drink.” She moved to the fridge in the corner.
I turned to Izzy and mouthed, “Are you OK?”
She nodded. I reached my hand
in my back pocket to turn on my phone. I pressed the button to send an alert to Joe.
I quickly pulled my hand back when she turned around then came over to me. The woman handed me a water bottle.
“This little reunion isn’t going exactly like I planned. I’m sorry about that. I meant for the ugly part to be over,” she said as she waved the gun, indicating Izzy.
My heart leaped in my throat then instantly dropped to the floor.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. Then we can get out of here,” she said, moving towards Izzy.
“Why don’t we get out of here now? You can just leave her here.” I prayed that if I could get her away from Izzy, I could figure something out.
“But she’ll just come between us again,” the woman whined.
Come on Joe, I pleaded silently with the universe.
I reached out and brushed my hand on her shoulder.
“She hasn’t come between us. I’m here, and I’m offering to get out of here with you right now.” I forced my revulsion down.
“You offered to go to prom with me too. And then she needed you, and you cancelled on me. And when you carried me to the eighth-grade formal, you talked about her all night. When I gave LO their first paying gig, you dedicated the performance to her,” she shouted and pointed the gun at Izzy. “It was my birthday, and you dedicated your performance to a girl who wasn’t even there.”
Pieces were clicking. “Casey?” I asked in disbelief.
“I registered so little on your radar you didn’t even recognize me? That’s rich.”
“You’ve changed,” I sputtered.
“Yeah to the type of girl you like. I did it for you. Don’t you see, I’ve loved you from that first day in English class. She doesn’t deserve you. If I was your girlfriend, I would’ve shouted it from the rooftops. Not hidden you away like some dirty secret. And I never would’ve abandoned you when you were in rehab. I would be better for you.” Her eyes beseeched me.
“You don’t have to hurt Izzy. You know if you hurt her, you’ll go to jail. Then we can’t be together.” Trying to reason with a crazy person was not an easy task.
“But she loves you too. And you’re obsessed with her. It’ll be easier this way. Daddy owns a house in Comoros. They don’t have an extradition treaty with the US. I’d be safe there.” Casey nodded her head. “Yes, that’s what we’ll do.” She raised the gun and leveled it at Izzy.
I couldn’t let her hurt Izzy. Her finger flinched on the trigger. I didn’t stop and think. I just threw myself at her. As I knocked her to the ground, the gun fired, and the door flew open.
When we hit the floor, she dropped the gun, and I grabbed it. My hand trembled as I pointed it at her. “Don’t move.”
She burst into tears.
I got to my knees and crawled over to Izzy who was lying sideways, still attached to the chair.
“Flutterby, can you hear me?” Tears made my voice thick.
She opened her eyes.
“Are you hurt?” My free hand ran over her, checking for blood.
“Just where I tipped the chair over,” she said.
I untied her and helped her up. While still keeping a wary eye on Casey, I pulled Izzy into my arms.
“I thought she shot you,” I croaked.
“Shh. I’m OK.” She rocked me gently. “We need to call the police.”
That was when I remembered the door swinging open before the gun went off. I looked towards the door. Joe was slumped on the floor, a splash of red on his shoulder.
“Joe,” I shouted and scrambled over to him.
“Izzy, call 9-1-1 and take this gun. Don’t let Casey do anything stupid,” I ordered as I ripped my shirt off and pressed it to Joe’s shoulder.
He moaned and opened his eyes. “Is Izzy OK?” he rasped out.
“She’s fine. Don’t try to talk. Help’s on the way.”
The room was filled with the sounds of Izzy’s frantic call for help and Casey’s uncontrollable sobs.
* * *
Izzy and I were finally done at the police station. Casey had been arrested. Joe was resting comfortably at the hospital. Before we went downtown to give our statements, I’d insisted Izzy get checked out at the hospital. Thankfully, the blow to the head hadn’t caused another concussion. Izzy was also fortunate that she hadn’t drunk the entire cup of Rohypnol-laced sweet tea Casey had fixed for her.
“I’m exhausted,” I said as we signed the last of the paperwork associated with our statements.
“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. I sagged in relief against her.
“Want me to get us a hotel room?” I asked.
“I know it’s late. But can you take me home?” she asked.
“Sure. Let me message the pilot and ask him to file flight plans for South Carolina.” I pulled out my phone and pulled up the contact for the pilot Bas had arranged to fly us here.
She put her hand on my wrist, pushing my phone down gently.
I looked up at her before I hit send.
“Not my home. Not South Carolina. I want to go to our home in LA,” she said softly.
“Does this mean you’ll move in with me?” I asked, tears swimming in my eyes.
“You are my home. I’m tired of spending time apart when we don’t have to be. I love you and want to be with you every day. Take me home.”
She kissed me deeply.
“Yes ma’am,” I said when she pulled back. “Let me text everyone.”
* * *
It felt like an eternity, but really it was only an hour later we were on a private jet, taxiing down the runway. Izzy leaned against me, asleep. She’d passed out the moment we’d buckled up. I glanced at Brooks, Jett, Maddox and Wilder. My family.
“Thanks for covering for me tonight,” I whispered, trying not to disturb Izzy.
“Of course. I’m just glad you had that feeling,” Brooks said.
“Me too. I can’t even imagine…” my voice cracked, and I had to swallow hard to get rid of the lump blocking my throat. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, there’s no telling what would’ve happened.”
“You can’t think like that. You got there in time,” Maddox said, leaning forward to pat my knee.
“I still can’t believe Casey from our school was your stalker all this time,” Brooks said.
“Aren’t you glad you never slept with her?” Leave it to Wilder to bring up sex with the crazy chick.
I shuddered at the thought.
“I can’t believe the tickets I gave my family are what allowed her to stay close to you. I’m so sorry, dude,” Jett said, his voice full of regret.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know,” I said as the plane leveled out.
“So, how long’s Joe going to have to stay in the hospital?” Wilder asked.
“Probably just another day or so. Mom’s going to take care of him until he heads back to LA,” I replied.
The fasten seatbelts sign flickered off. The guys all shifted to head to the front of the plane where a gaming system was set up.
“Why don’t you go rest in the bedroom?” Brooks said as he stepped into the aisle. “She can’t be comfortable sleeping like that.”
I glanced down at her. Her neck was at an odd angle, propped up against me. Carefully, I unfastened both of our seatbelts.
“Flutterby,” I whispered in her ear.
A smile spread across her face, though her eyes remained closed. I brushed a kiss across her lips.
The smallest sigh of contentment slipped from her lips, and her eyes peeked open.
“Hi. Are we there yet?” she asked me.
“Not yet. We’ve still got over three hours of flight time left. But I thought you might be more comfortable napping in the bed. Want to go lie down with me?”
“Yeah.”
I stood and took her hands. Together we made our way to the small bedroom in the back of the plane. Once inside, I shut the door.
She turned down the c
overs and sat on the edge of the bed. I toed off my shoes then kneeled to remove hers.
“Scoot back,” I told her.
But she didn’t. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her mouth to mine. Our kiss was desperate and grateful. We were both so happy to be alive and together.
She pulled back. “Make love to me,” she murmured against my lips.
“Always.” And that was the truth. It had never been only sex with us. Since the very first time, it had always been making love. Even when we weren’t an official couple.
With reverent fingers, I undressed her, kissing each inch of skin I uncovered. When she finally was stretched bare before me, I got up long enough to strip out of my clothes. I started to ease myself over her.
She sat up, meeting me halfway. Her soft fingers glided over my skin, waking up every cell beneath her touch. Her eyes were staring deeply into mine as her hand slid down my torso and gripped my cock. I groaned before taking her lips with mine. She stroked me with a frantic rhythm. I kept our kiss slow, languid, matching the tempo of my touch on her body. My fingers dipped inside and circled around her most sensitive parts slowly. My touch adagio and hers allegro. We were in perfect counterpoint, rising to matching crescendos.
I moved my hips back, taking my cock almost completely out of her grip. Stretching my legs out on either side of her, I tugged her onto my lap. We were both trembling, nearing release. I needed us to be fully connected when that happened. Slowing my fingers on her body, I used my other hand to guide her center over me. In perfect harmony, she lowered herself as I thrust upwards. When we were completely connected, matching moans slipped from each of us into the other. It was a moan of completion, of oneness.
“This right here, us, this is forever,” I vowed to her.
I moved slowly inside of her, marking her as mine and marking me as hers, until we fell apart together.
Epilogue
Izzy
Several months later…
Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3 Page 31
