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Pause (ROCK HARD Book 2)

Page 20

by Kat Mizera


  “Because it’s a game.” His eyes glittered. “And now you’re going to pay for ruining my fun.”

  I crouched a little, watching him intently. I was drunk, but not so far gone I wasn’t in control, and this guy was nothing but a weasel. Any bloke who forced himself on a woman wasn’t much of a man and I wasn’t at all worried about him hurting me. I could take care of myself for the most part, prison gangs notwithstanding.

  He lunged and I fell back, rolling to the side and jumping back to my feet. He was lunging and stabbing the knife in my direction wildly, as if he was on something, and part of me just wanted to run back inside and get the fuck away from him. Hopefully, the young woman I’d saved had gone to get help and not just headed home or something.

  “All you rocker punks think you’re the shit, taking all the women and not leaving any for the rest of us,” he growled. “And a murderer like you shouldn’t get more pussy than a nice guy like me.”

  As always, the past reared its ugly head and I contemplated whether or not to make a run for it. Was I that much of a coward after my stint in prison, that I couldn’t even stand up for myself anymore? I wasn’t particularly afraid of the guy but in the back of my mind, I worried about doing anything that would impact my probation.

  “She was here by herself, which meant she was trying to get laid. I was giving her what she wanted since none of you rocker dudes wanted her.” He threw himself at me, and though I managed to knock the knife from his hand, it ripped across my forearm before clattering to the ground. I brought my left hand up, catching him on the underside of his jaw as we tumbled to the asphalt. We rolled over a few times as each of us vied for dominance but I managed to get my right arm free and hit him hard and fast a few times in a row before I heard Tyler shouting my name.

  Then I heard the sirens.

  29

  Lindsay

  It was a little after eight in the morning and I’d just sat down at my desk when Madeline came in, a serious look on her face.

  “Have you been online yet?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Why?”

  “I’m on my way to the airport. Our favorite Scottish guitar player got himself thrown in jail last night.”

  “What?” I gaped at her. “Stu? Are you sure?”

  She chuckled. “Of course, I’m sure. I was his one phone call.”

  That stung, but I managed to mask the hurt as I nodded. “Is he okay? Do you know what happened?”

  “Not a hundred percent sure, but from what I gathered, he came across some guy trying to rape someone in the parking lot of the hotel, he got involved, there was a fight, and someone called the cops.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “I’ll call you from Santa Fe.”

  “Is he in trouble?” I whispered, suddenly a little choked up. I couldn’t even imagine what he was going through if he was sitting in a jail cell somewhere.

  “I don’t think so, but that’s why I’m flying out instead of handling it from here.”

  “But did he spend the night in jail? I mean, is he still in jail?”

  “He spent most of the night in the hospital getting stitches and being looked at. Then they took him downtown for questioning, but no, I don’t think he’s in jail. If anything, he’s probably in a holding cell or interrogation room.”

  “He has nightmares,” I said softly, my eyes filling with tears. “Please don’t let them keep him in there. Do whatever you have to do, Madeline. And please don’t tell him I told you about the nightmares—he’ll hate me even more.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

  Then she was gone and I immediately called Lexi.

  “He’s okay,” Lexi said as soon as she answered. “Just a few stitches in his forearm.”

  “Oh my god, Lexi, is he in jail?”

  “Kinda, but Tyler, Ariel, and Kingston hired some local lawyer who’s there with them, raising hell. The guys and Kingston are with him, and you know Ariel will make sure he’s taken care of, even if she has to stand on a table and sing for the cops.”

  “Has the girl who was being attacked come forward to corroborate his story?”

  Lexi hesitated. “Not yet but Tyler knows what she looks like because she went to him to tell him there was trouble. Someone had already called the cops, though, and in the time it took the guys to get out there to help, she’d disappeared.”

  “Where were you?”

  “The married woman in the group, whose husband isn’t around, went to bed,” Lexi sighed. “Lance woke me up a couple of hours ago.”

  “I’m so scared for him,” I whispered. “He still has nightmares about prison and he can’t go back.”

  “He won’t. He didn’t do anything wrong, and from the outside looking in, he’s the only one who got hurt, so hopefully they’ll sort it out.”

  “Madeline is on her way to the airport.”

  “We know, but we didn’t want to take a chance they try to railroad him, so Tyler hired someone local right away.”

  “God, I’ve made such a mess of everything,” I said, closing my eyes. “He needs me and I can’t even be there for him because he’s still mad at me.”

  “You need to see him in person,” Lexi said softly. “Get him to talk to you. It’s not going to happen while you’re thousands of miles away.”

  “I know, but we’re both working and it’s not easy to take time off at a new job when your job has already done so much for you.”

  “No one held a gun to Madeline’s head and forced her to hire you, give you a loan, and move you into her house. She’s a millionaire, badass attorney who kicks the snot out of people daily. You think this is a hardship for her?”

  “No, I don’t, but I also don’t want to take advantage.”

  “She knew when she hired you that you and Stu were together and were going to need to see each other now and then. Didn’t she even say that she would find reasons to send you on tour with him?”

  “Yeah.” I stared out the window, wishing there was something else to say. “I feel like I ruined one of the best things to ever happen to me, Lex. I love him. More than I ever thought I would.”

  “I know. And I think he loves you too. There haven’t been any women, just FYI.”

  “What?”

  “Okay, maybe there are women. I’m not with him twenty-four seven, but I’ve personally seen him turn down at least five or six since you guys broke up. Women backstage who were all over him and he just shook his head, said something funny, and walked away. He’s never done that before. And yes, they were attractive. Exactly the kind of women he used to go for.”

  I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected to hear that at all. Maybe there was hope. Even if he’d been screwing everything that moved, I couldn’t be mad about it because we were done. He’d made that abundantly clear.

  My phone beeped, indicating I had another call and I stared down at an unfamiliar international number. Wasn’t forty-four the country code for the United Kingdom? “I have to go, Lex. I’m getting a call from Scotland. I’ll call you back.” I quickly disconnected and answered the other call. “Hello?”

  “Lindsay? Is that you?” A woman’s voice crackled on the other end and I recognized Stu’s grandmother.

  “Gran?” It felt too weird to call her Judy.

  “Thank goodness. I can’t reach Stu and I’m seeing word on the news of another arrest—what’s happened?”

  I told her the little I knew.

  “Why aren’t you there with him?” she demanded. “He needs you.”

  “We, er, well, we’re not together anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on top of this, and my boss is on her way to make sure he’s okay. She’s one of the top attorneys in the country, so it’s better for her to go anyway, but he’s not talking to me so I wouldn’t have gone regardless.”

  “What happened?” she asked quietly.

  I took a breath and told her everything.

  “He’s so bloody stub
born.” Gran sighed. “I’m sorry, love. He takes everything personally.”

  “Can you blame him?” I asked softly. “After what he went through?”

  “That’s becoming a tired excuse,” she said firmly. “It’s done. He’s paid his dues, both to society and to the family, even though he didn’t do what they said. Freddie was always the troublemaker, always dragging him into this and that. Sometimes it was good trouble, like the band—that was all Freddie’s idea, you know? But mostly, it was drugs and mischief and the like. And from the time they were wee lads, he always found a way to get Stu to take the blame. Maybe because Stu was everything he wasn’t. Yes, Freddie played bass, but he wasn’t half the musician Stu is. Wasn’t a songwriter, wasn’t much of a singer, and when Waking Wonder started making money—and very few people know this—Freddie took lessons to get better because he realized the music industry would tear him apart. But the success? It was all Stu and Gavin. They were the magic. Freddie and Angus were their backups, so to speak.”

  I hadn’t known any of that. As usual, Stu hadn’t told me. He never freakin’ told me anything and it made me mad all over again. I was hurt, and willing to acknowledge I’d screwed up, but Stu wasn’t blameless. Keeping so many secrets was hard on a relationship. How could I not need to know about the past in order to help us forge a future?

  “I wish he’d trusted me enough to talk to me,” I said at last. “In the end, that’s what it boiled down to. I may have betrayed his trust by going to Gavin, but it was done out of love and concern. Him not telling me anything, ever, made it impossible for us to grow as a couple. Maybe that’s why I did it, because I knew the past would be there between us, unless and until I found a way to bring it to light.”

  “You have to go to him,” Gran said. “Even if he doesn’t want to talk, he has to. And as soon as his phone turns on, I’m going to tell him the same. But can you get on a plane, lass? Do you need money?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I have money. And a corporate credit card. I can go.” I made a rash decision. “But if I’m going to get on the same flight as my boss, I have to hang up. I’ll call you later, I promise.”

  “Go, Lindsay. Go get him.”

  I disconnected and called Madeline. “Can I still make it to the airport if I call a shuttle?” I asked her as soon as she picked up.

  She chuckled. “I already booked you a seat on the flight. I was going to give you five more minutes to get your head out of your ass. I’m still downstairs getting coffee.”

  “Seriously?” I demanded, getting to my feet. “But I don’t have anything with me. You could have told me and I would’ve brought an overnight bag.”

  “I keep a bag at the office for these types of emergencies, but don’t worry—you can pick up a few things at the airport.”

  I looked down at myself in my button-down blouse, pencil skirt, and high heels—my feet were going to be toast by the end of the day. That was okay, though. Stu was worth it.

  I hurried downstairs and found Madeline out front just as a Town Car pulled up and a driver got out to get her bag. She motioned me over and I jumped in the back next to her.

  “You should have told me you wanted me to go,” I said, giving her side eye.

  “You should have demanded to come with me. Those are the types of things I’m talking about—growing a pair and standing up to people.”

  “It wasn’t about standing up to you,” I protested. “This was about Stu and me. He doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Then what changed your mind?”

  I smiled. “His grandmother.”

  She smiled back. “Ah. Well, all right, I’ll give you a pass on this one.”

  Once at the airport, I bought a small overnight bag that was overpriced but good quality since I’d undoubtedly use it again, considering the job I now had. Then I went to one of the stores and bought toiletries, a USC T-shirt to sleep in, and a hairband because my long hair got tangled if I slept with it down.

  I’d need jeans and flats if we were in Santa Fe more than a day, but they had to have stores there. Right? I hoped so.

  I spent most of the flight studying for the bar, since it was familiar and comfortable during a time when I was anything but comfortable. The thought of seeing Stu again made my stomach ache in anticipation of rejection. His grandmother had given me hope, though. Not much, just a glimmer, but she knew him better than anyone and if her advice was to go to him, then that’s what I was doing. Too bad I was terrified.

  As the plane descended, Madeline glanced at me. “You okay? You’re pale as fuck. Do you get motion sickness?”

  I shook my head. “Just lovesick.”

  “You should be thinking of this as your chance to make things right. Chin up.”

  I nodded. “I’m trying.”

  “Does the name Marty Belian mean anything to you?” she asked.

  “Sure.” I smiled. “You think I have a best friend who’s a musician and don’t know all the greats? He was the lead singer of Marty and the Dukes. They do that song ‘Have to Get Up’ and a few other great songs.”

  “That’s right.” A faraway look moved across her features. “He was my fiancé. A very long time ago. The early eighties.”

  “He died, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. He had epilepsy. We liked to take baths together in our house in Nashville. He’d called me before I left work and said he was running the bath, would be there waiting for me.” She paused and looked away. “There was a traffic accident. I was delayed by nearly an hour. When I got home, he’d drowned in the tub. He had a seizure and couldn’t get out to get help. Coroner said he must have hit his head. For years I blamed myself. I should have told him to wait for me. I should have taken a shortcut and not gotten on the highway. So many should-haves. I would do anything to have him back. Anything, Lindsay. Now you have the chance I never had—to be with Stu. No matter what you have to do, do it. Take it from someone who knows—you’ll never get over it if you don’t.”

  30

  Stu

  Everything happened in a blur once the cops had arrived. I was bleeding and pissed, but no matter how tough I tried to be, I was instantly taken back to the night of the accident. I tried to tell the police what had happened, but just like four years ago, they weren’t listening. I was the tattooed rocker and Mr. Potential Rapist was a clean-cut preppie whining about how I swung first. He had the knife, though, and I was unarmed, which helped. Then Tyler showed up and as much as I hated to admit it, it was a relief to let someone else handle things with the cops.

  If I was honest, they terrified me. Not because I thought all cops were bad, but because they’d instantly sided against me when I hadn’t been the one driving and had been absolute jerks throughout the trial. Now I avoided police like the goddamn plague; my whole body tensed whenever I was around them. Even the ones who were at our shows specifically to protect us.

  Sitting in a police station half the night had made all my fears that much worse and I fluctuated between nauseated and panicked. Tyler had called a lawyer while I was at the hospital getting stitches, and the guy showed up pretty quickly. Luckily, with him there, when they took me down to the station for questioning, it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. But it definitely wasn’t good either. A couple of the cops were nice enough blokes, asking about Nobody’s Fool and snapping a few selfies with both me and Tyler, but I was still scared spitless on the inside.

  By morning, when the whole thing still hadn’t been sorted out, anxiety started creeping in. I didn’t know what the other guy was saying, but so far the young woman I’d saved from him hadn’t shown up and part of me wanted to kick myself for getting involved. This was nothing like last time, of course, and it wasn’t in me to stand by while a man attacked someone, but bloody hell, why did I have the world’s worst luck? I’d have been better off having sex with the lass from the bar.

  I drummed my fingers on the table, starting to get impatient. I’d been here all goddamn night and all
I’d had to eat or drink was a bottle of water. At least I was in an interrogation room, not a holding cell, but I was getting antsy. Not knowing whether or not I was going to get arrested was killing me. I had a few weeks left of my probation and if I got arrested now, I could potentially have to finish out my prison sentence. And I wasn’t going back. Not for anything. I’d go on the run and live off the grid if it came down to it, but I wasn’t going back there.

  By lunchtime, I was starving, light-headed, hungover, and exhausted. I’d been alone in this damn room for hours and now I had to take a piss. Irritated, I stood up and tried the door. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was locked, and to my surprise, it wasn’t. There wasn’t a guard outside either, so I looked around and saw a bathroom at the end of the hall. I went in, locked the door, and did my business. Then I washed my hands and face, relieved to have a moment of privacy.

  I heard someone shouting my name outside and almost chuckled at the irony. I’d sat there for five or six hours without anyone looking for me, but the minute I’d had to take a piss, they sounded the alarm. I came out of the bathroom and nearly collided with a panicked-looking young deputy.

  “Mr. K-killorn.” He was white as a ghost.

  “I had to take a leak,” I told him. “And the door wasn’t locked.”

  “Oh. You were supposed to ask.”

  “There was no one to ask.”

  The young man’s cheeks turned red. “I, er, was getting coffee.”

  “I’d love a cup. You got one for me?”

  He seemed flabbergasted at the question.

  “Am I not allowed coffee?”

  “It’s all right, Stuart. You’ll be out of here in a few minutes.”

  I looked up and had never been so happy to see someone as I was to see Madeline Aronson.

  “Ms. Aronson.” My local attorney, a heavyset bloke named Theodore something, in an expensive suit, came bustling down the hall. “So glad you’re here. I think I’ve taken care of things on this end. Shall we talk in here?” He motioned to the room I’d been in and we all went back in there, though I stood up this time since I’d been sitting for hours.

 

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