“I was in high school. Everything is traumatic when you’re a teenager.” She smiled and covered his hand with hers. It was the first time he’d ever admitted any part in the fiasco of her past. “I’m an adult now. I’ll be fine.”
He studied her face. The tension drained from his features. “When did you become so strong?” He smiled and shook his head before turning to the door again. “At least let me try to shut down the tabloids. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out where you live.”
“Okay. Go ahead.” She shrugged, knowing he was right. Even though she had changed her name, it wouldn’t prevent them from finding her.
“Maybe you should go away. Stay somewhere they can’t find you,” he suggested.
She thought about Elijah, the way the media hounded him, the way he’d been unable to escape their prying eyes. Running wouldn’t solve anything. She’d been lucky to evade them for so many years. She didn’t want to hide anymore. She was proud of who she’d become.
“I’m not leaving. I just got home. Besides, they’ll find me wherever I go.” The decision lightened a little of the sadness weighing her down. “I’ll find a way to work through it. It’s Elijah I’m worried about. He’s a good guy, Dad, and he’s being punished for trying to help me.”
“Don’t worry. I’m on it.” Robert squared his shoulders and lifted his phone to his ear, charged with renewed purpose. They shared the briefest of smiles. He might be uptight and intimidating, but he was her dad and he loved her.
Once the door shut behind him, Cadence jumped to her feet and locked the door, securing them inside their protective bubble. She returned to her seat and blew out a sigh of relief. “Is it me, or do you feel like a hurricane just blew through here?” Cadence removed the clip from her hair to let it fall freely over her shoulders. “That man needs a Xanax or Valium or something.”
“I need to lie down,” Lauren said, overcome with mental exhaustion. She stumbled into her bedroom and fell face down on the bed, too tired to undress or unpack. Cadence followed her, a comforting presence in the midst of chaos.
“What a weekend, huh?” The mattress swayed under Cadence’s weight when she sat on the edge of the bed next to Lauren’s prone figure. “So what really happened?”
“It was great and terrible and the best time I’ve had in years,” Lauren said, voice muffled into her pillow.
“Did you have rock-star sex?” Cadence asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice.
“Oh, yes. I’m so sore I can hardly move,” Lauren confessed, feeling the ache and pull of overworked muscles. She rolled onto her back, letting the past few days drift back through her mind. “But it was so much more than that. We walked on the beach. We talked and held hands. We went to a vineyard and… He’s nothing like I thought he was. I really like him, Cadence.”
“Oh, sweetie. No.” Cadence stroked a hand through Lauren’s hair, the gentle touch soothing. “You’ve got a sex hangover, that’s all. It happens all the time. You had hot, random sex, and the next thing you know, your hormones are on fire and you’re contemplating having his babies.” She laughed. “In a few days, you’ll be able to laugh about all this. Except maybe that airport picture. But everything will fall into place. You’ll see.”
“It’s hard to believe that when the whole world is a witness to your life.” Lauren rolled onto her side and stifled a yawn. “Everyone will know—or think they know—what happened. They’ll assume the worst.”
“The people who know and love you won’t care and that’s really all that matters. Don’t you think?” Cadence stroked a delicate hand over Lauren’s forehead, smoothing back the hair from her face.
“I don’t know.” Lauren met Cadence’s eyes, seeking reassurance and finding it in their familiar depths.
“I know,” Cadence said firmly. “Look at this as a chapter for your memoirs and let it go.”
“He said he’s going to get his shit together and then he’s coming back for me.” Lauren raised a hand to stifle a yawn, exhaustion creeping over her and weighting her limbs.
“Really? He said that?” Cadence pulled back, an expression of awed disbelief clouding her face.
“Yes.” Sleep tugged at her eyelids. She gave one last deep exhale and fell into the welcome abyss of anonymity.
A thin sliver of light beamed through the window in Elijah’s cell every morning. He looked forward to it with pathetic eagerness. It was the only indicator of life outside the four white walls of his cell. He yearned for sunshine and blue skies and open spaces. Once a week, the guards gave him a fifteen-minute visit to the exercise yard where he could feel the warmth of the sun through a skylight, but it was a poor substitute for fresh air. The rest of the time he spent alone in his cell.
Two weeks passed before his trial. No one came to see him. The other inmates disliked him, threatened to poison his food, and made his solitary confinement a necessity. Nothing sucked more than his own company. He’d been frightened of being alone for the majority of his life. Now he was forced into solitude with someone he didn’t even like—himself.
At first, he thought he might go insane. To keep the negative thoughts at bay, he made use of the time by working out, thinking about all the ways he’d fucked up his life, and all the ways he’d be a better person upon his release.
Late at night, when the lights extinguished, he thought about Lauren. The way her skin smelled, the silky slide of her hair through his fingers, and the way she’d clutched his back when his cock was buried deep inside her. Thoughts of her provided an oasis from the hell of his existence.
He wondered if the press had latched onto her, surrounding her house, following her to work, stalking her private moments. His gut ached knowing he’d destroyed her carefully constructed anonymity. He’d seen the sheer panic on her face when the paparazzi called her name and knew she’d never be able to survive his lifestyle. But maybe—just maybe—he could create a new life, one she might be able to embrace as her own. This small kernel of hope buoyed him through the endless days to follow.
Reprieve came to him in the most unexpected manner on the day of his trial. He’d gone to meet his attorney only to find Robert Ellington waiting in the room instead. He was much shorter and stockier than Elijah expected but bore an air of striking confidence, the kind brought about by success and power. The two men stared at each other, one dressed in an impeccable black suit, at the top of his career, and the other wearing a baggy blue prison uniform, living at rock bottom.
“Let’s skip the introductions and get down to business,” Robert began. He opened a folder on the table between them and shuffled through the papers inside. “I don’t usually waste my time with petty celebrity criminals, but my daughter seems to think you’re something special. Your attorney owed me a favor, and I’m calling it in right now by being here.”
“I don’t understand,” Elijah said. “Did Lauren send you here?” He frowned and ruffled a hand through his hair. “I don’t want her associated with any of this. It’s my mess. Not hers. She needs to stay away.”
“She knows nothing about this visit, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Robert’s shrewd eyes bored into him. “And just so we’re perfectly clear—I’m here for her. Not you. Understand?”
Elijah nodded. Relief flooded through him. “Is she okay?” The answer meant more to him than he realized.
“She’s getting by, but this isn’t easy for her. She can’t even leave her house right now.” The protective heat in Robert’s gaze reassured Elijah. Her father would take care of her.
“I had no idea who she was,” Elijah said, returning Robert’s stare with equal intensity. “Or I would’ve protected her from those bastards.”
Robert leaned back in his chair and placed both hands on the table in front of him. They continued to assess each other. After a minute, Robert seemed satisfied with Elijah’s answers. He closed the folder, and the stiff set of his shoulders relaxed. The air of tension eased between the two men.
�
��You’ve got quite an interesting background, Crowe. It seems you have an outstanding warrant for your arrest from two years ago involving an altercation at a bar on Sunset Boulevard. This is also your second battery charge. The prosecution thinks you’ve got a history of violence. They’re tired of all the negative press around their leniency toward celebrities and they’re prepared to make an example out of you.”
Elijah swallowed hard, a cold sweat forming on his palms. He didn’t remember much about the Sunset Boulevard incident, except brief flashes of a drunken fan charging at him with a broken beer bottle in his hand and cracking him over the head with it. Moose had arrived in time to whisk him away on the tour bus. He hadn’t given any thought to the incident since then and had no idea there was a warrant out for him. The battery charge happened when a paparazzo had stepped in front of his car, wrangling for a photo of him, and he’d run over the photographer’s foot by accident. He rubbed his hands over his thighs and blew out a deep sigh.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“You are in a shit ton of trouble, son. Lucky for you, I’m here to help you out.” A small smile twitched the corner of Robert’s mouth. “But you’re going to have to do a favor for me in return.”
CHAPTER 32
LAUREN STRETCHED out on the sofa in the living room and stared at the TV with blank eyes. Two weeks had passed since Elijah’s arrest without word from him, and it was the day of his trial. She needed a distraction from the gnawing ache inside her. Not knowing the verdict was killing her. The injured photographer had splashed pictures of his bruised and bloodied face all over the Internet. Lauren offered to testify on Elijah’s behalf, to tell the court there was no way one punch could have caused that amount of injury, but Elijah refused. She wanted to be there to support him, but it was a closed courtroom.
Cadence slipped into the chair next to her and flipped through the pile of utility bills and unopened mail. She’d been out for a run, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. She’d been running a lot lately, like some inner demon possessed her. And she always returned with a secret smile.
Lauren studied her, eyes narrowed. No one enjoyed running that much. “How was your run?”
“Fine,” Cadence said, the smile returning.
“Ha. I saw that. You look like the cat that ate the canary. What’s up with you lately?” She loved Cadence, but all her cheerfulness was wearing a hole in Lauren’s depression.
“Nothing. Not everyone is sad and mopey.”
“I’m not sad,” Lauren replied, returning her attention to the TV, knowing it was a lie.
Her phone dinged with a Google alert. She opened it with a mingled sense of dread and hope, but her spirits fell when she read the opening line. Elijah had received a sentence of ninety days in jail, one year of anger management counseling, and two years of probation. The public felt the lenient sentence was a direct reflection of his fame and unleashed a torrent of unflattering comments beneath the post.
Reading the insults hurt, but it was the statement issued by Elijah’s publicist that cut her. “Elijah Crowe and Ms. Vincente are friends, nothing more. He regrets the unfortunate incident and wishes Ms. Vincente the best in her future endeavors.”
She had to read the statement three times before she could get through it. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Cadence took the phone from her hand, read the statement, and then tossed the phone in a drawer. She sat next to Lauren on the couch and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Lauren, but maybe it’s for the best.”
“Maybe.” Lauren swiped at the tears and drew in a shuddering breath. “I guess I expected it. I just wanted to believe there was something more than sex between us.”
“I’m going out tonight. You want to come?” Cadence tugged on Lauren’s toe. “Some of the guys from work are having a get together at Jameson’s Pub.”
“I don’t think so.” Lauren shifted away from Cadence’s touch. The thought of sitting around strangers, trying to pretend her life wasn’t in shambles, didn’t sound appealing. Her gaze shifted to the window and the street outside. “Are they still out there?”
Even before Cadence answered, Lauren knew the answer. A handful of stubborn photographers continued to park across the street, cameras at the ready. One desperate soul had stolen their trash the day before, hoping to find something of interest. It made Lauren sick to her stomach.
“You can’t hide in this house for the rest of your life,” Cadence said. Her voice took on a playful, pleading tone. “Come out with me. I promise you’ll have a good time.”
“No, thanks.” She had no energy to feign interest in anything outside of sleeping and television. The only reason she left the house was for work, a trail of photographers in her wake.
“Suit yourself.” As Cadence moved toward her bedroom, the house phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” Lauren said. They’d had their number changed, plagued with requests for interviews and pictures. She expected a new onslaught with the release of Elijah’s verdict and statement. Cadence shook her head and picked up the receiver anyway.
“It’s for you. You need to take it.” She held the phone out to Lauren.
“Ms. Caldwell? This is John Gould. I represent Elijah Crowe.” The unfamiliar male voice took her by surprise. “He asked me to contact you.”
Lauren’s breath caught in her throat, and it took a few seconds for her to find her voice. “Is he okay?” she finally managed to ask.
“He’s in solitary confinement, but he’s doing well,” the attorney said. “And at this point, he feels it would be in your best interest if you stayed away until release.”
“Oh,” she said, face dropping. It hurt more than she expected. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.
“But he wanted me to tell you that he’s good, and he’ll see you when he gets out. If you’re still interested, that is.” The attorney’s voice held a note of embarrassment.
“Yes,” Lauren said, smiling for the first time in days. “Tell him yes.”
A month dragged by with leaden feet. Lauren did her best to pick up the pieces of her life. The fickle media latched onto the adulterous affair of a box office movie star and left her in the shadows. People moved on. Life returned to normal.
When she arrived home from work on the one-month anniversary of Elijah’s sentencing, she found the news and media plastered with Elijah’s image. The music label had dropped Elijah. Seven Drift was cancelling their remaining tour dates, and the band would be going on hiatus “to pursue other interests”. She knew Elijah must be crushed. She felt responsible. If she’d only told him sooner about her past, they might have avoided the wreckage at the airport. The guilt ate at her. She dropped her head into her hands. All Elijah wanted was a chance to fix his life, and she’d ruined it for him.
“Are you going to this?” Cadence breezed into the room holding a small, square envelope, interrupting Lauren’s thoughts and pulling her back to the present. “It’s tomorrow night.”
“No.” Lauren returned her stare to the TV. The invitation was to one of her father’s dinner parties. They hadn’t spoken since the incident, and Lauren didn’t bother to reach out to him.
“I think you should go,” Cadence said, fingering the expensive linen card stock between manicured nails. “You need to leave this house.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re starting to smell.”
Lauren launched a pillow at her. “Shut up. I took a shower this morning.”
“I’m just saying you need to get over this. Go to your dad’s party. At least you’ll get to meet some new people.” A worry line furrowed her fair brow. “I’m worried about you.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Probably not,” Cadence replied.
“Fine.” Cadence was right. Sitting around the house, getting fat, and moping wasn’t going to get Elijah out of jail or improve her mood. She needed to start putting her life into order.
The next night, she put on her best dress and made the hour-long drive to her father’s estate. She hated those events, the judgmental stares, the knowing looks. Yes, she was her father’s bastard child, and yes, she’d had a glorious affair with a rock star. It happened. She owned it. It was no worse than any of the nefarious things lawyers did behind closed doors.
Lauren paused in the foyer of the mansion and swept the throng of people with her gaze. Dark woodwork gleamed with the reflection of crystal chandeliers. A string quartet played classical music, the soft notes floating below the hum of civilized conversation. Curious eyes turned to stare and whispers trailed after her.
“Glad to see you, honey,” her father said and bent to place a kiss on her cheek. With a glass of Scotch in one hand and Debra on the other, he disappeared into a cluster of men Lauren didn’t recognize.
Lauren worked her way across the room and sighed in relief at the sight of familiar broad shoulders. Trent stood near the doors to the patio. The instant their eyes met, Trent looked away, as if he didn’t recognize her. She placed a hand on his arm. He frowned down at her before schooling his features into polite reserve.
“Trent? Thank goodness you’re here. I’m happy to see a friendly face.” She rolled her eyes and breathed a sigh. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” He shifted away from her touch. Her hand dropped to her side, fingers clenching. “It’s so nice to see you again. Have you met my fiancée, Whitney?” His hand went to the back of a petite blonde with perfect makeup and a brittle smile.
“Oh, no. I haven’t.” Lauren cleared her throat and forced a smile before extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Whitney said. Her hand was cool and small. She smiled up at Trent with the perfect mixture of admiration and awe.
“Whitney, I want to introduce you to Mitchell and his wife,” Trent said. “Please excuse us, Lauren. It was a pleasure to see you again.”
They turned and retreated before Lauren could speak. Whitney turned to Trent, her voice hushed but audible. “Now, who was that exactly?”
Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 87
