Pause (ROCK HARD Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  “What do you want, Angus?”

  “Why do I have to want anything?”

  “Because you’re a wanker.”

  “At least I’m not a murderer.”

  Ah, there it was.

  “Lindsay, would you give us a minute?” I asked, though my eyes never left Angus’s face.

  “No.” She moved closer to me, a scowl creasing her pretty face. “I don’t think I should leave you two alone at all.”

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet?” Angus gave her a piteous look. “You were all about flirting with me and now you’re going to protect your man?”

  “He’s my friend,” Lindsay shot back. “And I wasn’t flirting, I was being nice.”

  “Whatever. Hefty lass like you should be glad I gave you the time of day.”

  “Get out, Angus,” I hissed.

  “Public club. Can’t make me leave.”

  “I’m going to get Lance.” Lindsay ran toward the backstage area but my eyes still never left Angus’s face.

  “You hate me, and that’s fine, but you had to insult her? She has nothing to do with us.”

  “If she’s important to you, then hurting her is almost as fun as hurting you.”

  “Give it your best shot, mate, because I have nothing else to say.” This could only go one way and I couldn’t allow him to goad me into something that might send me back to prison.

  “Scraping the bottom of the barrel with the ladies, eh? None of the skinny ones’ll have a murderer, I reckon.”

  “Why don’t you fuck off?” I shot back. “You know damn well the accident didn’t happen the way—”

  “Not even an apology!” Angus hissed, cutting me off. “You killed Freddie and never even said you were sorry. And you still don’t.”

  Before I could answer, Tyler, Bash, Ford, Zaan, and Lance came running over to us, surrounding me and eyeing Angus.

  “What’s going on?” Tyler asked.

  “The lot of you gettin’ into bed with this guy.” Angus wrinkled his nose. “How do you look yourselves in the mirror, knowing what he’s done?”

  “Really none of your business,” Tyler responded. “Let’s go, Stu.”

  “That’s right,” Angus called. “Have your pansy-ass mates protect your pathetic arse. Not man enough to take me on yourself, eh?”

  “Stu, go on back,” Lance said to me. “We got this.”

  I would’ve done anything in that moment to be able to grind my fist into Angus’s face, but I didn’t want to go back to prison. I didn’t move, though, standing my ground as our eyes locked.

  “Do it,” Angus said, making a quick come-hither motion with his fingers. “Go on, then. You know you want to.”

  “Christ on a cracker, can I deck this moron?” Ford drawled, making his accent as slow and Southern as I’d ever heard it.

  “No one is decking anyone,” Lance said. He motioned to someone and then the club’s security was there.

  “All right, buddy, you’re out of here,” the man said.

  “Fuck you.” Angus snatched his arm out of the man’s grip and turned toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “We’re not done, Stuart. Not by a long shot.”

  I turned and walked toward the back of the club, out the side door and straight to the bus. I climbed in and drove my fist into one of the cushioned seats. I hit it a few times, trying to breathe while simultaneously fighting the pain and fury raging through my system.

  I thought I’d gotten past this, but it was never going to end. One of the many reasons I couldn’t allow myself to feel anything for Lindsay. I could barely protect myself; how would I ever protect her?

  15

  Lindsay

  The cute guy at the bar with the Scottish accent had seemed harmless enough, buying me a glass of wine and flirting with me. I hadn’t recognized him as the former drummer of Waking Wonder at first, but he’d aged and, frankly, he’d never been the hot guy in the band. I’d never had eyes for anyone but Stu, so it wasn’t until Stu started walking toward us that it all clicked.

  Now it made sense and I was as furious as I was hurt.

  Hefty lass like me?

  Fuck him. I wasn’t that hefty. Sure, I wasn’t a size zero toothpick, but in clothes I looked pretty damn good. You couldn’t see the extra pounds and rolls unless I was naked, and frankly, the hottest guy on the planet liked seeing me naked. Whether it was a relationship or just sex didn’t matter because he could get laid any time, any place, and I knew if I told him I wanted him right now, he’d be all in. So fuck Angus and every other guy who’d ever called me fat.

  Stu Killorn didn’t think I was fat.

  But right now I had much bigger problems. Well, maybe not problems, but Stu had stalked out of the club like he was going to explode, and I’d followed him without even thinking. Now that I’d reached the bus, though, I hesitated for a moment. What if he didn’t want to talk to me? I’d been sort of flirting with another guy, a guy whom I now knew was using me to somehow hurt him, and it had caused a scene. It wasn’t my fault because I was technically free to flirt with whomever I wanted—Stu made it clear he wasn’t willing to let there be anything serious between us—but I didn’t like being used. Especially when it had all been harmless fun. I was never in a million years going to sleep with someone else while on tour with this band.

  I opened the door and started to climb the steps when Stu called out, “Whoever you are, I need five minutes alone. Just leave me be for a bit.”

  “Stu?” I peeked my head around the corner. “May I come up?”

  He was leaning back in one of the chairs, bottle of Jack Daniel’s at his lips, and he scowled at me. For a second, I thought he would say no, but then he waved me up with an impatient swipe of his hand and took a long drink of J.D.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I sat beside him. “I didn’t know who he was at first and—”

  “This,” he interrupted, wiping a dribble of the caramel-colored whiskey from his lips with the back of his hand. “This is why we can’t be together. Not because I don’t care about you. Not because I don’t want you. Because I can’t fucking protect you.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I can’t protect you from arseholes like him. From most of the world, who think they know me, who call me a murderer. And I’ll be damned if I let fuckheads like him hurt you.”

  “He can’t hurt me,” I protested. “Seriously—guys like him mean nothing. I’m a single woman who was standing at a bar and a guy asked to buy me a drink. I told him no, that I was leaving in a few minutes anyway, but he said it was okay. He didn’t mind buying a drink for a pretty lady even if we were only going to talk. So I said sure and then after a few minutes he told me he’d known you back in Scotland. He didn’t tell me he was your drummer, even though I eventually figured it out, but he said he knew you from your clubbing days in Inverness and told me a funny story about you riding a motorbike to a gig with your guitar on your back.”

  Stu took another drink of J.D. “Yeah, because his van broke down and that was the only way for me to get there. He had to make three trips with his mum’s little Honda to get his drum set to the club.”

  “I’m sorry he used me to find a way to get to you, but I don’t understand why he thought flirting with me would hurt you?”

  Stu narrowed his gaze. “Don’t play coy, lass. Not with me. Definitely not now.”

  “I’m not! We’ve said a million times this is nothing but sex, which is why we agreed to stop doing it. So even if you were lying about that and have been sitting awake at night pining away for me, how would he know that? I’m assuming you two don’t talk.”

  “Not hardly,” he snorted, taking another pull from the bottle.

  “Then how?”

  “I’m guessing there’s been talk about us on social media since I saved you from the stampede that night. I don’t pay attention to the media at all, except a bit of world news, because I know most anything said about me is negative so it’s not worth it
. I hadn’t realized there was scuttlebutt about whether or not we’re a thing, though.”

  “There is?” I was completely dumbfounded.

  “Most likely. As I said, I don’t look.”

  Our eyes met and I folded my arms across my chest. I was angry. A little at him, for being so obtuse about this thing with us, but more at the world for treating him so badly. Yes, someone had died because of him, but it was an accident. He wasn’t the first person to do something dumb, not even the first rock star to do something dumb, so why couldn’t he get past it? He’d done his time, paid his dues both physically and monetarily, and it was time for him to get his life back.

  “I’m not afraid of them,” I said after a moment. “The press, your old band, whoever it is that you think is going to try to hurt me because I care about you. I don’t know what kind of spineless women you’ve dated in the past, but that’s not me. I don’t run from hardship. I don’t abandon my friends because life isn’t rosy right now. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t walk away from this chemistry between us because you have a past.”

  He put the bottle of Jack down with a thump, his eyes glittering with anger. “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about! You don’t know who I am, you don’t know what I’ve been through.”

  “Then fucking tell me.”

  I’d expected anger. Maybe even raised voices. Potentially our first fight. There was no doubt he’d reached a boiling point and I figured it was better for him to explode at me than someone who might use an incident to hurt him. Instead, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “I cannae, lass.” He was a little drunk now and his Scottish brogue was low and gruff, as if admitting that hurt him somehow.

  “Why?” I got up and walked over to him, straddling his legs and slowly sitting down. I put my hands on either side of his face and looked into his gorgeous brown eyes. “Why can’t you talk to me?”

  “Because it bloody hurts and I have to carry the pain alone.”

  I shook my head. “No. No, you don’t. I’m here. And according to your friend, along with more than a few others, I have hefty enough shoulders to carry some of that burden with you.”

  His hands settled on my lower hips, fingers trailing along my ass. “You’re beautiful, Lindsay. And the next bloke who calls you hefty will have me to answer to.”

  “So you can defend my honor but you can’t tell me you care about me?”

  “I’ve told you in more ways than one,” he said gruffly. “Or at least I’ve tried to show you.”

  “Sex isn’t showing me feelings. You’ve fucked a billion women.”

  “Maybe not quite that many,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss me. “But in terms of showing you how I feel, yeah, I have. Sleeping together in the same bed. Face-to-face lovemaking. I don’t do that, Linz. Not since before the accident.”

  His kiss was sweet. Tender. And I leaned into it, taking his tongue and sucking the remnants of Jack Daniel’s from it. I wasn’t a fan of the whiskey, but it tasted delicious on his tongue.

  “Okay, they’re not naked,” Lexi said, making us both jump. The rest of the gang came onto the bus behind her and I slowly crawled off of Stu’s lap, but he pulled me back down, just facing out this time, undoubtedly to hide the raging erection I felt pressed against my ass now that I was against it.

  Everyone took their usual seats and Stu took another pull from the bottle of Jack.

  “You all right?” Tyler asked once we were on the way to the hotel.

  Stu gave him a lopsided grin. “Angus blames me for every little thing that’s gone wrong in his life since the accident. For myself, I don’t give a shit what he thinks or says, but when he goes after someone I care about…” His voice trailed off. “I have six months left of probation and I can’t get into anything with him. But someday, when I’m not at risk of going back to prison, he and I have some shit to talk about.”

  “This tour is almost over,” Bash said, “but when we head out again, we’re going to beef up security. Again.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem,” Lance said with a grin.

  “What’s that mean?” Stu asked.

  “I was going to sit down with everyone in the morning,” Sasha said, standing up, “but it seems like we need a little good news tonight.” She paused, her lips twitching with excitement. “Onyx Knight is interested in having us open for them on the road this fall.”

  “Which means security will be amped up by default,” Lance said.

  “Holy shit.” Ford looked impressed. “That’s fucking awesome!”

  “Bloody hell.” Stu ran a hand through his tousled hair. “That’s big.”

  “Nobody’s Fool is hot,” Sasha continued. “The guys from Onyx Knight came to the show in Nashville and said they were impressed. They’re heading to Europe now and it’s too late to organize something international this quick, but they’ll be back in September and Casey and I are having a Zoom call with them tomorrow afternoon to work out the details.” She called her mother by her first name when they discussed anything business-related.

  “I’ll email you guys the show dates and locations, so you have an idea what the plan is, because this is pretty much a done deal. Also, I’m negotiating with the manufacturer to ramp up merchandise production. With you going on a major tour, you’ll be selling T-shirts and whatnot and the one generic shirt we have available now isn’t gonna cut it.”

  Talk turned to the tour, but I tuned them out, watching Stu’s face as the rest of the band discussed plans. By the time we got to the hotel, everyone seemed to have forgotten all about the incident with Angus and were excited about the new tour development. Stu was quiet, though, and I slid my fingers into his. He tried to be so tough, so strong, but it was all an act. He turned on the charm and was usually loud and funny, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But now I knew better.

  I saw something different in Stu. From my perspective, he was a man who desperately needed someone to love him. Maybe not romantic love, and probably not even someone who cared about him the way I did, but someone who would see past the pain and horror of the last few years of his life. Someone, something, had to start the healing process for him because every fiber of my being told me he was in terrible emotional pain.

  “You want to go upstairs?” I asked him as most of the group moved to the hotel bar. “We have a conversation to finish. One way or the other.”

  His eyes met mine and he nodded, squeezing my hand as we walked in the other direction. “Your place or mine?” he asked.

  “Mine,” I said, digging out my key. We got into the elevator and to my surprise, Stu pulled me close. Not in a sexy way, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me to his chest and then rested his chin on top of my head. Neither of us said anything the whole way up to the tenth floor, and then he just held my hand as we walked to my room.

  It was dark inside and when I went to turn on the light, he shook his head. “Can we leave it dark, lass? I’m in a bit of a dark mood.”

  “Okay.”

  He padded over to the bed, kicked off his combat-style boots and then stretched out, holding out his arms to me. I took off my own shoes and crawled over to him, settling against his chest. It seemed to be the place we were most comfortable; he liked holding me this way and I loved hearing his heart beat.

  “Angus was always a bit of an arsehole,” he said after a moment. “Talented drummer, decent backup singer—not much of a songwriter, but he had all the elements we needed. I didn’t want him in the band at first, but Freddie talked me into it. That was a thing with us. Me wanting to be cautious and Freddie talking me into throwing caution to the wind. It was usually a disaster, but we always had a blast. Until the end anyway.”

  I didn’t say anything, merely ran a hand along his shoulder and bicep, and let him gather his thoughts.

  “They all abandoned me,” he said after another long hesitation. “Every last one of them. Angus, Gavin, who was our singer, our roadies,
our friends…my girlfriend.”

  “You had a girlfriend?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “Aye. Lisa. Met her at an art gallery in New York, fell in lust, invited her to go on tour with me, invited her to move in…” He paused again. “After the accident, she never even asked me what happened. She never came to a single day of the trial. She just distanced herself, told me she was going home to New York until things blew over. And that was it. Never saw or heard from her again.”

  “Bitch,” I muttered.

  “My parents hung in there until I was found guilty. Then they distanced themselves as well. Dingwall isn’t that big of a town and I guess the gossip, Freddie’s friends and family around town, was too much for them. And then I was alone. In prison. With just my gran on the other end of a phone line, a million miles away. And a lot of scary fucking inmates.”

  “Were you…scared?” I whispered, nestling deeper.

  His arms tightened. “Bloody terrified.”

  “Was it…bad?”

  “I went into survival mode. I had money, unlike most of the guys, so I could buy cigarettes and soda for some of the blokes who could offer me a bit of protection. I mean, at the end of the day, there’s no such thing, not really, but I knew a couple of guys who weren’t bad people, just got caught up in some mess, like I was, and they understood what it was like to not be a career criminal and end up in prison anyway. Nothing is free, though, and I guess I was too famous and good-looking to go unnoticed.”

  I mentally cringed as I tried to read between the lines. “Good-looking?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you… I mean, did they…” I couldn’t say the word rape and just clung to him, my heart breaking for both of us because I felt his pain in my soul.

  “Nay. Not like you’re thinking. More like, you know…” His voice cracked a little. “Allowing a bit of…touching.”

  “Oh, baby.”