Still Her (Turn it Up Book 2)

by Natalie Parker

  “Send Mike in, would you?” Sarah calls after her as she starts pulling cans out of cupboards. Only seconds pass before Mike strolls into the room, looking much more him in pressed jeans and a pullover. He heads straight over to stand behind Sarah, running his hands up and down her arms while she throws together a green-bean casserole.

  “How are you two holding up?” he asks, looking between Jack and me. “Have you heard anything more…?”

  “No,” Jack replies.

  “And can we just… not go there today?” I ask, shaking my head and rolling my shoulders as if I’m trying to get a wet blanket off of myself.

  “Alright,” he nods, seemingly reluctant. I don’t miss the look he exchanges with Jack, who has come to stand beside me.

  “You know what? We’ve got the perfect way to change the subject anyway,” Sarah intervenes, setting everything down before resting her hands on the counter top. “Jack…” she addresses him, but looks to the both of us as Mike’s hands rest on her shoulders. “Mike and I have decided that we want to name the girl baby, Isabel.” She keeps her eyes fixed on him now, looking like she’s trying to gauge his reaction. I look up at him, as I’m curious too, feeling a hopeful smile form on my lips. Isabel was Sarah, Melanie and Jack’s mom. She sadly passed away when they were little.

  Jack just closes his eyes and smiles. It’s a genuinely happy, closed mouth smile that Sarah and Mike return. “I like it,” he nods.

  “Really?” she asks with her smile wide and eyebrows up. “You’re okay with it?”

  “Of course,” he chuckles incredulously, shaking his head and giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s perfect…”

  JACK

  “It’s all right here. You can look at it now, or take it with you and go over it later if you want.” Mike’s voice has taken on a tone that sounds completely downtrodden, despite the heartwarming news he and my sister gave us earlier. We’re each holding a cold beer as we stand over the desk in his office where he has the proposal laid out. “We’re going to start with low-balling him of course, and I’ve been reaching out to other partners in my firm in the hopes of forming a team that can go up against his when he fires back.”

  God, it all sounds so intense and heavy as he says all this, yet the reality is staring up at me from his desk. My eyes scan through all of the legal jargon until they land at the number three quarters of the way down on the page. Shit. That’s a lot of money. It’s no object to me when it comes to protecting the woman who owns my heart, but she’s for sure not going to see it that way. She’s going to freak when she sees this amount. Even divided four ways between Maze and me and the other guys, it’s definitely a considerable amount, and this is just a jump off. Eli’s team will undoubtedly counter with a ridiculous sum. I can already feel this hitting me hard, and I know this entire process will tear Mayzie apart. It could drag on for months and it could take us years to rebuild, and I’m not talking about our bank accounts…

  “Have you guys thought any more about it? I’ve been in touch with Eddie…” he trails off when he mentions the detective.

  I release a breath that would rival a monsoon. “Yes, we’ve thought about it, but no, we don’t know what to do. And I already know what Morris wants us to do.”

  “Yeah,” Mike acknowledges, somberly nodding. “His interest in the case sort of… goes beyond professional.”

  “I know. Mayzie told me.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair and take a pull on my beer. I liked it better when I thought Morris was all business about this. Call me selfish, but I want the focus in all this to be completely on us. On Mayzie. “His plan puts her in danger, but this one… this one threatens her spirit,” I say, holding my hand out at the document. “She… doesn’t want to face him. And if I had my way, she’d never have to even look at him again, but I know she doesn’t want this.”

  “What puts my sister in danger?” Ian’s voice comes from the doorway to the office that Mike and I have our backs to.

  Fuck me. I lean on the desk and drop my head, stealing myself before turning to face my brother-in-law. This is not going to be fun.

  “My agent… wants Mayzie,” I tell him, hating the taste of every word that rolls out.

  “What do you mean, wants her?” he asks, his eyebrows drawn together as he takes a couple of steps into the room.

  “Don’t make me fucking say it, Ian.” I can’t even think it without wanting to pound the ever loving shit out of something.

  “He… what the fuck? Did he do something to her on that plane?!” His voice is rising just slightly.

  “He hasn’t touched her, but he’s been inappropriate, and there have been past cases of… sexual harassment against him.” I don’t mention any specifics. The less information her brother has, the better. Besides, I hate having to explain this to anyone. It’s magnifying the reality of this whole disgusting situation. “He’s threatening the band if he can’t…” I can’t fucking say it. I’m going to punch somebody in the face.

  “Have her,” Ian finishes for me, nodding spitefully. The words spoken out loud make me set my beer down before I hurl it across the room and I press my fist into the palm of my other hand in front of me. I take in a deep breath and hold it a moment before letting it out.

  “We’re taking care of it Ian,” Mike offers, trying to be helpful. “We’re working with a detective out of New York where Eli spends a lot of his time, and I’m seeing what I can do to get the band out of their contract so that they don’t have to associate with him any longer.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” Ian’s voice is menacingly low. “What the fuck have you gotten her into?” His eyes are ablaze and zeroed in on me. His insinuation really fucking tests my restraint.

  “I didn’t get her into anything, Ian. This is all on the actions of a pitiful asshole that we thought we could trust to be our agent, and I think you know damn good and well I will level anyone that touches her. If I had my way, that’d already be a done deal, except that my going to jail would hurt her more.”

  “Her or you?” He challenges, snidely.

  “Her,” I say plainly. “I know you have a hard time getting your head around this sometimes, but she loves me.”

  “Oh please,” he scoffs cynically, closing the distance with another step. “You’ve been nothing but selfish with her from the start. Marrying her after barely four months, bringing her into your whole rock world, and now look where she is!” He’s not lying. When it comes to Mayzie, I’m eternally fucking selfish.

  “You don’t know shit about our life, Ian. Every choice she and I have made has been together,” I fire back between clenched teeth. “And you’re testing my already fraying temper. Be thankful I care too much about upsetting my wife.”

  “You’re supposed to be protecting her,” he continues, undeterred. “That’s the job you took over from me and my dad when you married her, and you can’t even keep her safe from some sleaze in a suit! Speaking of our dad, wait until he hears this shit…” he turns his head as if planning to leave the room and then his face contorts in some combination of surprise and pain as his right arm gets wrenched behind him. Ian is standing so close to me, and because she’s so much shorter than he is, I didn’t see Mayzie approaching behind him. Still pulling his arm across his back, she brings her left hand up on his shoulder. The band I put on her finger years ago catches the light from the window as she pushes down and kicks at the back of his knee, bringing him down to the floor.

  “Ow! What the fuck?! Mayzie, what the hell is wrong with you?!” He yells from his knees.

  “You are not going to tell Dad anything. Hear me, bitch?”

  I stare in complete astonishment at the scene before me. How the hell did she do that? Has she always been able to? What the hell is going on here?

  I chance a look over at Mike who’s standing there, still clutching his beer with his mouth agape, looking as dumfounded as I feel. I’m shocked. Stunned. And unbelievably turned on…

  MAY
ZIE

  “Let go! Get off me!” the pussy yells from under my control.

  “Mayzie?” my mother’s voice calls from downstairs. “Ian? What are you guys doing up there?”

  “Play-ing,” I call over my shoulder in a sing-song voice.

  I hear her scoff and her retreating footsteps in response. “Nothing. In their late twenties and still act like total children around each other…” she goes on to explain to someone in the other room.

  I let go of my brother and step back to give him space to get up. All three men are staring at me speechless and bewildered as my brother holds his shoulder and rolls it around. I level him with a glare that warns him not to challenge me when I say, “You and me. Talk. Now.” I jerk my head in the direction of the door. He doesn’t protest as he walks past me and out the door still holding his shoulder. Baby.

  Before following him, I look over to my husband and give him a sheepish half smile. He gives me an amused smile back, his eyes warm as he sends me a look that says, you’re explaining that later. I smile and blink at him in response before walking out of the office, leading Ian into another room just a couple of doors down the hall.

  When we walk in, I close the door behind us. I look around and see that we are in the twins’ half-finished nursery. There are two cribs, each still needing to be assembled, their parts lying against the far wall. Above one is a wallpaper sample of baby dinosaurs hatching out of eggs and wearing diapers, and above the other is a swatch with butterflies in pastel pinks and purples. On the floor is a throw rug with the ABC’s also in a variety of gentle colors.

  This is actually the ideal place to have this conversation. The room, while unfinished, is too frickin’ adorable to fight in. Kind of gives you the warm-fuzzies. It will keep the hostility level down. Hopefully.

  Ian sits down in a white rocking chair with his elbows on his knees. “Mayzie, what the…” he looks around at the adorable décor, “heck is going on? Seriously, talk to me or I talk to Dad.”

  “Is there anything on this earth you’re good at other than being a tattle-tale?” I ask with a roll of my eyes. He pins me with a look that says he means business. “Alright…” I digress and tell him the whole story. Well, the watered-down version. I start with the plane ride and take him through the photo shoot. I downplay the bathroom lounge incident, but describe how very careful Eli has been not to say or do anything that could get him caught.

  “Dammit,” is all he can say when I conclude with the phone call in Richmond.

  “Yeah…” I agree. The telling of the story has brought down my defense a little, but I take in a deep breath to re-inflate myself before addressing the way he was acting in Mike’s office. “But Ian, you don’t know the first thing about everything Jack does for me, to keep me safe and make me happy. The only reason he isn’t rotting in a jail cell for assault and battery right now is because I care about him too, and won’t let him do that to himself, or the band that’s been there for him for thirteen years. That’s what marriage is: putting the other person first, and we’re both doing that. Get it?”

  “I get it,” he looks down at the cream-colored carpet. “I’m just… scared.”

  Wow. I’ve never heard my brother confess to feeling anything vulnerable before. Ever.

  “Seriously,” he continues, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I know,” I answer, trying to be soothing. “And neither does Jack. Seriously, he’d lay down his life…”

  A look comes over Ian’s face, like this realization is seeping in and taking over his thought process. He drops his head in what looks like remorse.

  “And Ian?” I nudge just a little and he looks back up at me. “Please take a minute to think about exactly what telling Dad won’t accomplish.” Besides, if he does tell him, I’m showing his next girlfriend the picture I took in middle school of him sleeping, cuddling a Care Bear with his hand down his shorts; a sleep habit he wasn’t aware of. He didn’t actually sleep with Care Bears, it was mine. I sacrificed poor Wish Bear for the sake of the photo, hoping it would come in handy one day. And oh, how it has… on many occasions.

  He considers this a moment before finally giving me a light nod of his head. Then, with perfect timing, there’s a gentle tap on the door.

  “Come in,” I call and the door softly opens, Jack leaning in the doorway. He shoots me a smile before his eyes dart briefly to Ian’s defeated form in the chair and then back to me.

  “Sarah’s going to eat all the pumpkin pie if we don’t get down there.” I release a giggle and give a gentle nod as he looks back to Ian again.

  Ian looks up at Jack over his shoulder. “Sorry, Jack.” Whoa. That was sincere. This room works wonders. Ian’s face is one of humble resignation.

  Jack looks at him with exhausted forgiveness in his eyes. “It’s cool.” He and Ian give each other a shoulder slap as Ian passes him through the door, probably intent on besting Sarah at pie hoovering.

  “So,” Jack begins as he turns back to me. “What was that in Mike’s office?”

  I shrug, trying to blow it off. “It was just a self-defense move. Okay, so Ian wasn’t attacking me, but he was pissing me off and it was high time he paid for all the noogies he used to give me.”

  “Where’d you learn that?”

  “Shane,” I nervously rest my hands on the small of my back. “He taught me a few moves… I asked him to.”

  “When was this?” he asks gently as he steps closer to me, looking down in my eyes.

  “Charlotte.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess I was afraid of it stressing you out even more than you already are; that it would make everything seem even more real, you know?”

  He looks around the room and nods, like he’s considering this.

  My voice is getting shaky and quiet. Talking about all this definitely makes everything more real for me. “It’s not that I’m planning on being in a situation where I’ll have to use them,” I say, trying to reassure him that I’m not preparing for the sting behind his back. “It’s just, Eli’s had a real affinity for just popping up places on this tour, and I don’t know…” I trail off, shrugging before finding words again. “Knowing these techniques just makes me feel better. Stronger.”

  Jack takes me in for a moment, his eyes wandering all over my face before speaking. “Well, the scumbag is right about one thing,” Jack brings his gaze back down to mine as his hands come up to hold my face. “You are smart. You’re brilliant. Baby, you’re so amazing.” He lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is deep. Sweet. Hard. Long. Like he’s trying to drink me in. It goes on for a minute or two before he finally, gently pulls away, leaving one last peck on my lips. He rests his forehead against mine and lets me in on one last thought. “And by the way… watching you take out your brother? That was seriously fu-,” he looks around at the room, “effin’ hot,” he finishes. I giggle at his choice of words. “Come on,” he says chuckling, and opening his arms to gesture at the adorable future nursery. “Look at this room, I can’t curse in here!” I let my head drop back in a giggle. With that, he takes me by the hand to lead me out of the room. “Come on, you need pie.”

  Screw that. I need a turkey nap. Okay, I need pie. But after that it’s a nap.

  19

  Jack

  The next day, Mayzie and I are back at our house, although she goes to Annie’s to spend a little time with her and catch up on what’s going on with Tyler and the pregnancy. We have a precious two more days here, so I’m doing every home project I can. I’ve basically been tinkering around the house in my sweats and trying not to stew over shit. Our stint in New York is drawing closer. I can’t make a decision about this, but soon, it’s going to be made for us. I keep telling myself that I’m not letting Mayzie alone in a room with that lowlife, no ifs ands or buts. But then I think about what our life might look like once he’s cleaned us out - Maze and me, and the rest of the guys. What we’ll do from there… The band migh
t recover just fine. We’ll just keep making music and build our way back up. But how the joint sacrifice will affect Mayzie… It will make her feel low, small, defeated. And God knows how long those feelings will last, and the toll they’ll take on her emotionally and mentally. I try to tell myself that the important thing is that she’ll be safe, but then I wonder if avoiding the risk will truly be worth it. I know she won’t feel that way… But how the fuck do I let my baby…

  The conundrum feels like it’s ripping my heart in two. Hence the reason I’m trying to keep myself busy and moving.

  I’m putting together a dresser that’s been sitting in a box in our spare room since before the tour when my cell rings. I toss my screwdriver down in the tool box and pull out the screw I was holding in my mouth as I pick it up. My mood lifts ever so slightly when I see on the caller ID it’s my friend George from The Shock Wave.

  “George, what’s going on man?” I answer.

  “Same shit. I wanted to see if you’re down for meeting up in Boston. You’ll be there for a couple nights, right?”

  “Yeah, first two nights are shows, then we get a rest before heading to NYC the next day,” I answer, heading over to the window. The plan is to fly over and do the big metropolitan cities on the upper East Coast before heading back across the Midwestern states. We’ll be leaving the dogs with Mike and Sarah for a couple of weeks, and then picking them back up during the holiday break in between.

  “Nice, we’ll be there doing that ‘Rock into the Holiday’ showcase. We missed you in L.A., and Erin wants to see Mayzie… What do you think? Will you have time?”

  “Yeah, yeah. When is this showcase?” I ask, pulling the curtain back to get a look at the grey sky that’s threatening to rain, or maybe even sleet.