“I went to get my journal and he just kept insisting he didn’t think it was Jadyn.”
“What if it wasn’t?” he asked.
I stuck my hands in my hair and pulled. I felt like I was losing my mind. “Are you seriously siding with him?”
Parker grabbed my hands and pulled them toward his lap. “I’m not siding with anybody. I just want you to step back from your anger for one second and imagine if it wasn’t her. What if Randy or one of his guys got in our room and planted it? Wouldn’t you feel shitty for accusing Jade then?”
“The facts speak for themselves. I don’t care if it’s shitty to accuse her. I live by the phrase, ‘Apologize later.’ I am going with my gut here, and my gut says it was her.”
“Okay, babe. Then it was her. What do you want to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean are you going to let it ruin your day, the tour, your life? Are you going to confront her? Are you going to let it go? What’s next?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well sitting here with all this anger isn’t going to do anybody any good.”
He was right. The words were harsh to my ears, and it was certainly something I didn’t want to hear, but I couldn’t deny the truth.
“Subject change.”
“Verbal dodgeball?”
I nodded. “Deflecting the conversation from me back to you. Tell me more about Kimmy and your family.”
“I figured you’d at least let me get away with twenty-four hours before I’d have to give you more,” he said dryly.
“Nope. Spill it, my friend.”
“I’d rather not get into the subject of my family right now. Suffice it to say that Kimmy was adopted into my family and we grew close.”
I thought back to the snippets I’d written in my journal and the connection I had made. “Does she have anything to do with why your tattoos are all Chinese symbols?”
His eyes darted to mine. “Good guess.”
“What did you have to protect her from, Parker?”
“I already said I didn’t want to get into it.”
“So you had to protect her from your family?”
He stood from the bed and started pacing.
“You want the story? Here’s the goddamn story.” I was frankly shocked at his tone. I watched as his eyes moved around the room. His focus was on anything except me. I didn’t want to hear it like this, whatever his story was. I wanted him to tell me because he wanted to. But I’d pushed him, and now we’d gone too far to turn back.
He walked over to the minibar and pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey. He shot it down before he started talking.
“I feel like I’ve been protecting people my entire life. Always from other people. Always people I care about who need someone looking out for them. Let me begin with my asshole father.”
He heaved in a deep breath, as if this was a struggle for him. He stopped near the window and gazed out. He leaned forward, his hands on the windowsill. I couldn’t help but take in his tall frame. He was always strong, but leaning forward on straight arms, elbows locked, showed his vulnerability. His black shirt stretched across his sturdy shoulders. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to stop him from telling his story. I wanted him to know that he could wait, that he could tell me on his own terms. That he could come to me, that I would hold him while he spoke whenever he was ready.
And just as I opened my mouth to stop him, he continued talking.
“My dad resented me because it was my fault my mother couldn’t have another child after me. So they adopted Kimmy. Everything was fine when we were young, and then around the time we were in middle school, my dad lost his job. Rather than trying to find a new one, his life’s goal became getting to the bottom of as many bottles of alcohol as he could. He was a mean drunk—mean to me, mean to Kim, mean to my mother.”
He stared out the window, thinking about his past. His voice lowered. “Eventually it killed him, all the drinking. But not before he inflicted pain on everyone around him.”
“Oh God, Parker,” I said, wishing I had some way to comfort him. His body was rigid.
He stared out over the city of Chicago, the Windy City that he had called home for the majority of his life. I was trying to give him space, but I wasn’t sure if space was what he needed from me.
“I both love and hate coming back here. I hate what it means, what it represents. I hate my dad. I hate what he did to Kimmy, to my mom. To me. He was trash, and I grew up having to protect my sister and my mom.” He was lost in thought, expressing his innermost feelings aloud to me. This was a major breakthrough for us. It marked the first time he openly let me in.
But I could tell how difficult this was for him, and I felt guilty that I’d pushed him into talking.
His voice broke when he spoke again. “Except I failed where my mom was concerned.”
Failed? What did that even mean? I wasn’t sure how to break his monologue to ask. He’d revealed much more than I’d bargained for when I had started this conversation. I’d just wanted him to let me in. I had no idea what I’d been asking for, but if this was who he was, I needed to know.
I needed to know because I loved him. I wanted to know the beautiful parts of him, but I wanted to know the ugly parts, too.
I wanted it all.
“When my dad started drinking, I started writing. My lyrics are based on my life. My dad thought I was a sucker for trying to protect the people he was trying to hurt. He made me want to give up on everything, especially when he told me what he really thought about his son becoming a musician.”
His reference to being a “sucker” was immediately clear. The words tattooed on his torso flashed through my mind.
“Trial and Error” wasn’t about some broken relationship he’d had with a woman.
It was about his father.
I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure how to put the lid back on the can of worms I had opened. I had started this, and now that I knew the truth, I needed to see it through. I needed to find a way to provide the comfort that Parker deserved. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want sympathy. He was too masculine for that shit. But he needed to be loved.
And as angry as I’d been about the lies for my protection and the omissions of truth, I knew that I was the one meant to love him.
I could sense the hatred he felt for his father. That had to be why he’d grown so close to my own dad. He’d only had his father’s presence in his life until he was in middle school; after that, he’d had to grow up far faster than anyone should have to in order to protect the women in his life. I still didn’t know what he had meant about his mother when he said he’d failed to protect her, but in time, I was sure I’d learn the truth. But this time I wouldn’t force it. This time it would be on Parker’s timeframe.
I stood and walked over to him. I touched his shoulder gently. He still gazed out the window, and our eyes met in the reflection of the glass.
“He killed her, if you’re wondering.”
I didn’t say anything, but I trailed my fingertips from his shoulder down his torso, and then I slipped both of my arms around his waist and gave him a hug from behind.
“It was an accident, but I blame him. I’ll always blame him. Do you have any idea what it’s like to blame someone for something that no one can ever change? I thought once he died that I’d forgive him, but I didn’t. I thought I’d pray for him to rest in peace, but I can’t.”
“You don’t have to, Parker.”
“I wish I could.”
I tightened my arms around him. The only thing I could think of to say was the one cliché I hated when I’d lost Katie. As I tried to think of the right words, he continued.
“She’d just taken the garbage can to the curb. It was dark out. She was in the driveway, and he didn’t see her when he pulled in from whatever bar he’d been trolling.”
I pressed my cheek against the back of his shirt.
“And that’s how you lost her?”
He nodded. I didn’t see it because my eyes were squeezed shut, but I felt it.
“How old were you?”
He didn’t move. I felt his voice hum through his back. “Twenty-two.”
“My age. She’s only been gone six years?”
“Yeah. And my dad drank himself to death the night of her funeral.”
The words almost slipped out. I’m so sorry. But my apologies for his past wouldn’t bring back his mother any more than it would bring back Katie. “I had no idea.”
He finally turned to face me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and wrapped his arms around me. “How could you?”
I shrugged.
“I didn’t want to burden you with the shit I’ve dealt with. It’s hard enough losing one parent, but to lose two within a week of each other? Fucking unbearable.”
“How long did it take you just to feel normal again?” My cheek settled against his heart. The strong, steady beat of it comforted me.
“How long have we known each other?”
“Almost three months, I think.”
“It took me until about three months ago.”
I pulled my cheek from its soft resting spot on his chest and looked up into his eyes. They radiated warmth and authenticity.
“Do you really mean that?”
He nodded, his serious eyes never leaving mine. “It’s what drew me to you. You were the first person I met who made me forget my fucked up family and my fucked up past. You made me look toward the future. It was why I couldn’t stay away from you.”
I pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his lips before I spoke. “You could have any girl you want. Why me?”
“I can’t explain our connection, Jimi. It’s deeper than lust and more than sex. That was all I ever had before I met you. But you give me this peace I’ve never had before. Before you, something was missing. But it isn’t missing anymore. You’re my home. You’re my family. You’re the one on my mind from the second I wake up until I fall asleep, and then I spend the night dreaming about you.”
I felt hot tears prick behind my eyes. He basically just told me that the day we met was the day he was able to start living again. How does anyone deal with words like that? It was an honor I wasn’t prepared to handle.
While I’d felt us moving into the direction of something serious, I was able to blame an awful lot on the fact that my dad had hired him to watch over me. We’d done our share of talking, but this day would be forever immortalized as the day that Parker finally opened up to me. I met his sister, I learned about his parents, and, most importantly, I discovered who Parker James really was beneath the attractive exterior.
He was just as beautiful on the inside. He was damaged, just like I was, but we were working on helping each other mend the brokenness.
eight
The Chicago shows were perfect. The tour took us through a journey of the Midwest to Milwaukee, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and Louisville, and then we headed toward Florida for shows in Jacksonville, Miami, and Tampa.
Randy had been unusually quiet, but it was probably because my dad had stepped up security. George was permanently on Parker and me, and in his rare absence, Bruno was on us. My dad hired a few extra men George trusted to keep all of us safe, and our rooms hadn’t been breached since the night my journal had been stolen.
Nothing changed where Jadyn was concerned. I still didn’t trust her, and I avoided her as much as I could. It was a difficult task given the fact that I was her husband’s assistant, despite the fact that George had taken over for me in the interest of Parker acting as my personal bodyguard.
I was still piecing it all together, but I had my suspicions that things weren’t over between Jadyn and Randy. Something told me she continued her involvement with him. Maybe her job was gaining information on me so Randy could make his move. Stealing my journal of all things would certainly accomplish that.
Except my journal was really just snippets of thought. The only person who would really understand its meaning was the writer.
After the night Parker had confessed his past to me, we’d managed to grow closer to the point of being inseparable. It was convenient anyway since my dad wanted him near me at all times with the exception of when he was working, which was fairly often.
I wondered often what Vinnie, Fitz, and Garrett thought about all of it. Even though Parker and I had grown close, I still didn’t know the guys very well. We tended to spend all of our free time together, mostly naked. And since our bus was separate from theirs, even though we were traveling together, I didn’t know them any better than I had before we’d left for the tour.
Our tour was nearing its end, and I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do with myself once it was over. Parker had started the dialogue in my mind about whether I had ambitions beyond working at Vintage, and I was sure that I did. In fact, part of me wondered if owning my own store like Vintage was a possibility. I’d surfed the website of the community college near my house, but I wasn’t even sure what degree I would need. I had no concept of how to run a store because I’d spent so much time living in my own world and not caring what came next.
It had been an empty existence living day-to-day that way, and it had taken the right person to motivate me to get out of my rut. And now that I’d opened my eyes to the fact that there could be so much more out there for me, I wanted to explore it. I wanted to take some chances and see where my ambitions took me.
But aside from a career for myself, I also wondered what was waiting back home where Randy was concerned.
“Wondered” wasn’t the right word.
“Feared” was a little closer to the truth.
I was terrified of what waited back in California, but I couldn’t dwell on it.
Even though my relationship with my dad had been strained ever since the journal incident, I trusted that he always had my back. He’d always do what was best for me, even if I didn’t like the decisions he’d made or the way he’d reacted. He’d always do whatever he could to keep me safe, as evidenced by the fact that there were always at least two people watching over me.
I missed privacy. I found myself taking extra bathroom breaks, or spending a few extra minutes in the shower (although most of the time Parker was in there with me). I knew the end of the tour didn’t necessarily spell the end of security surrounding me, but I was ready for it to be over. I was homesick. I was tired of sleeping on a bus or in a hotel. Granted, I didn’t have a lot to complain about where our hotels were concerned, but there was nothing quite like sleeping in my own bed.
With Parker.
“You ready for the last night?” Parker asked. We were hanging out on the bus in the parking lot of the Smoothie King Center on the Fourth of July in New Orleans, Louisiana, as Parker broke into my thoughts.
“Me?” I sat up from my lazy position nestled in the crook of his arm and looked at him.
He nodded.
“Sure. You?”
“Yep. Playlist is a little out of order tonight, so I’ll have to meet with the guys early.”
“That’s fine. I have some things I can take care of for my dad, anyway.”
“I thought Vanessa was handling it.”
I shrugged. “It’s the last show and it’s a holiday. He’s got more demands.”
“Take George.”
I rolled my eyes and earned myself an irritated look from Parker. “I know. You don’t have to tell me every time.”
“You’re irritable today.”
“How’s that different from any other day?”
“Touché.” He chuckled, and I punched him in the arm before he stood and stretched. I saw his abdomen peek out from under his black shirt. Just the glimpse of the cut muscles hidden beneath that shirt caused my mouth to water.
But we had work to do.
We headed toward the backstage area of the arena. Parker located the boys from Flashing Light, and then we parted ways as George led me s
traight to my dad.
Gideon sat on a couch, his legs stretched out and his feet resting on the table in front of him. His ever camera-ready wife was snuggled into his side much the same way I had been with Parker only moments earlier.
I rolled my eyes.
“Can’t we all just get along for the last night of the tour?” my dad asked.
I sighed and sat in a recliner chair, my eyes focused on the television that wasn’t even on as I hoped that someone else would join us in the room aside from the typically silent security team.
He tried a different tack for the conversation. “Did PJ tell you about the party tonight?”
“What party?”
“And she breaks her silence.” He grinned at me.
I’d been short with my dad ever since the journal incident, but he knew as well as I did that it would eventually pass. I was hurt that he’d sided with his wife over me, but I tried to look at it from his perspective. It was hard when the very smug Mrs. Price was cuddling into him.
Parker and I hadn’t really discussed what we’d do after the show. I tended to go with the flow, and sometimes that meant parties, but more often than not, it meant our group hanging out by our buses. Black Shadow could still rock the hell out of a sold-out arena, but they weren’t the party animals they’d been back in their twenties. Now most of them were married, some with adult children and others with lost loves under their belts.
People tended to think that big name rock tours were non-stop parties, and while that was true for some bands, this was a group of professional men who still knew how to have a good time. The bands typically kept to themselves for no other reason than the fact that they were each focused on their music with the goal in mind of making each show better than the last. Some of the guys in Pure Adrenaline had gotten close with some of the boys from Flashing Light, but that was largely without Parker. Mostly because Parker was always with me.
One night I’d asked him what he’d thought of that, whether he felt like he was missing out because he was always by my side as my hired protection.
And he’d said the words that would remain in my heart forever. “I’d rather be here with the woman I love than out partying with people I’ll never see again.”
Vintage Volume Two Page 5
