RAPT - The Price of Love: Everhide Rockstar Romance Book 3 (Everhide Rockstar Romance Series)

by Tania Joyce

  Our psycho fan helped find me? The one who’d stressed me out for weeks? She couldn’t unpack that information now. Nothing made sense. “I don’t care how you found me. I’m just glad you did.” Otherwise, after tonight, it would’ve been pointless. She would’ve been dead.

  Kyle scooped her hair back and cupped the side of her face. “Just so you know, I never would’ve stopped looking for you.”

  There was a distance in his eyes. She sensed he wanted to say so much more, but he didn’t. Was he mad at her for not listening to him? Was he blaming her for what had happened? Had he found out about the other letters? Shit. Her palms turned clammy and she fidgeted with the sheet. None of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t kept her caged like a bird and ordered her around. Sinking deep into the pillows, she closed her eyes. She didn’t have the strength to talk about that now.

  “You look tired.” He ran his fingertips across her forehead. “You need more rest?”

  “No. I’m okay.” She adjusted the pillows beneath her head, grateful to be able to move, even if only slowly. “Where’s Hunt?”

  “He’ll be here soon. He went home to get some sleep. It’s been a long couple days.”

  Days she couldn’t remember; there were only snippets of terror.

  Gerard Rivers—their archenemy of a reporter—filled the TV screen mounted above the end of her bed. What was Kyle doing watching Entertainment On-show?

  “Shocking new details have been released from Everhide’s publicist today after recent events surrounding the band’s lead guitarist. Gemma Lonsdale, who was rushed to the hospital on Saturday afternoon, was the unfortunate victim of a terrifying kidnapping. Speculations rose on Friday as to the whereabouts of Miss Lonsdale when she didn’t turn up to what appeared to be a private wedding ceremony between her and fellow band member, bass guitarist, Kyle McIntyre. Fans posted pictures of the broken-hearted heartthrob sighted in Lower Manhattan, being consoled by friends.”

  Gemma’s heart bled when photographs of Kyle kneeling on the sidewalk flashed on the TV. His face was in his hands. Wide-eyed disbelief was frozen on Hunter’s, Hayden’s, Kara’s and Lexi’s faces.

  Kyle’s grip tightened around her fingers. She never wanted to break his heart and she had.

  The news continued.

  “It turns out the situation was much more serious than being stood up at the altar. Witnesses saw detectives entering a townhouse in Montgomery, New Jersey, believed to be owned by one of the band’s close friends, Vicki Rogers, late on Saturday. Moments later, band members Kyle McIntyre and Hunter Collins were on-site and left in the back of an ambulance with Miss Lonsdale. Miss Rogers was arrested by police. Initial reports state that Miss Lonsdale had been drugged and held against her will. Their publicist has confirmed Miss Lonsdale is recuperating and the band requests respect for their privacy as they recover from the horrific ordeal. We wish Gemma a speedy return to health. We send her and the band our best wishes.”

  Gemma drew the sheets high over her chest. How humiliating. She prided herself on being strong and independent. Dealing with the scandals, rumors and gossip they faced was easy when most of them were lies. But this was a new personal low. This made her look fragile and vulnerable, and highlighted how quickly everything could be snatched away. Every step she made fed the media wolves. Nothing was ever private. “Of course this made the news.”

  Kyle grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. “Yeah. We had to get Kate to send out a statement. Our cell phones went into meltdown. Kate and Bec couldn’t handle all the calls.”

  She tugged at the neckline of the gown digging into her neck. Nothing about her kidnapping had been sugarcoated. But the last thing she needed was an influx of sympathy and pity from fans and the media. She just wanted to be alone, process what had happened.

  Pushing her fears aside, she hardened her heart. It was best to treat this as just another fiasco. “It’s been a while since we’ve done anything headline-worthy. Thought I better give Kate and Bec something to earn their keep. Wouldn’t want them to get bored.”

  Kyle puffed air through his nose. No humor touched his voice. “I’d sooner have them deal with us having sex in public again than something like this.”

  True. When they’d first started dating, their well-constructed lies and diversionary tactics had helped keep their relationship secret for months. Their inability to keep their hands off each other had led them to be busted by the paparazzi more than once. But there was no escaping this. It was as if she’d been strung up naked in the middle of Times Square. Having this nightmare exposed made her feel weak. And she hated that. Didn’t want people to see her like that.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Then thump. Her stomach sank to the floor. There was only one thing worse than dealing with the media. “If we’ve been in the news, I guess my mom called.”

  Kyle scratched his scruffy chin. “Actually, no. She hasn’t. Not even a text.”

  Welts of hurt pushed against her ribs. Her life was in danger and her mom didn’t care. Either she hadn’t been offered money for some bullshit story, or her daughter being kidnapped wasn’t scandalous enough.

  He reached inside his leather jacket. “You want me to send her a message?”

  “No.” She caught his arm. “Don’t bother.” Her mother had done too much irreparable damage over the years. Best she stayed away.

  “Good. She’d only upset you. But there are people here who do care.” He thumbed toward the door. “Lexi and Kara are outside. They’ll be stoked you’re awake. You want to see them?”

  Adrenaline spiked in her veins. Her breath seized in her chest. Her vision tunneled and blurred. She was back in Vicki’s room. Unable to move. Terrified. Vicki loomed over her. Red devil eyes.

  The door to her heart slammed shut. “No. I don’t want to see anyone.”

  “But they’ve been worried about you.”

  The tape on her arm pulled. She picked at the edge of it. She needed to get out of here. Her faith in friends had been shattered. “I’m not ready to see anyone.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “Gem, what are you doing?”

  She slapped his hand away and scratched at the tape. Harder. Faster. The walls grew closer. Every breath was a struggle. The room was too small, too dark. It smelled like a chemical factory. It was just like Vicki’s place. It wasn’t safe. “Get me out of here.”

  He grabbed her hands and drew her against his chest. “Gem. Gem. It’s okay. I got you.” He kissed the top of her head, held her close.

  Tears burned her eyes and she sobbed against his shirt, the emotion pouring from her in a current. “It’s not okay. I’m not okay.” Clutching onto his shirt, her chin quivered. “I want to go home.”

  “You can’t. You have to stay for another night or two.” The anguish in his voice speared her heart. The image of him on TV, devastated on the sidewalk was scorched into her brain. She didn’t want to put him through heartache like that ever again. He tightened his arms around her. “God, I’m so glad we found you. I was terrified I’d lost you.”

  That possibility had come too close. This was so screwed up on so many levels. How would she come to terms with what had happened? Be able to trust people again? Find herself, her strength? Her mind spun out of control; she was unable to see the path forward. This wasn’t like her. She always knew what she wanted and went after it. The past few weeks had done nothing but hinder and cloud her judgment. She needed her balance restored.

  She reached up to stroke his cheek, his soft stubble tickled her fingertips. “Kyle, I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

  But run was all she wanted to do. She wanted to get away from everyone and the mayhem in her mind. She’d been violated, tormented and drugged to the eyeballs. Rendered useless. She couldn’t see past the darkness. It grew thicker and closer. Somehow, she had to find her way back into the light. Problem was, she didn’t know where to start.

  ***

  For two days Gemma was prodde
d and pricked in the hospital. Blood tests, examinations, and an IV for rehydration. She was never alone—Kyle and Hunter took turns being by her side. They were the only people she wanted to see. She refused to see anyone else. The horrific kidnapping had rattled her brain like coins in a tin can. No other noise could drown it out and other people only exacerbated her fear.

  The next day at home, she still didn’t feel normal. Was it the drugs wearing off? Clutching a cushion to her chest, she curled on her sofa, staring at an unlit candle on the coffee table, trying to piece together the days she’d lost. She was alive because of Kyle. He’d told her about what happened with Taylah at the precinct. She’d never had anyone care for her so deeply before. Love her. He gave her his all. And it scared her. How could she do the same after being kidnapped? She needed to protect herself. Lock this fear away. Establish her resilience. He knew her better than anyone but if he saw how messed up she was, he’d run.

  How could she get married when she felt broken?

  Kyle lazed on the adjacent sofa, reading a Charles Bukowski paperback. Every conversation they’d had since she’d been rescued exhausted her. His never-ending “Can I get you something to eat?” “Are you feeling okay?” “Do you want to talk about what happened?” was a constant jackhammer in her head. The things she loved about him, his love, their connection, the way he made her feel safe and secure, smothered her again like a crude oil spill.

  Something had to change before she drowned.

  She wanted to blame him for what had happened, but it was her own stupid fault. Being kidnapped had happened so easily. So quickly. One horrid thought kept skipping through her brain . . . none of this would’ve happened if they weren’t together.

  She didn’t want to go there. Not ever.

  Kyle put his book down onto the coffee table and fidgeted with his watch. “Can I get you anything?”

  Every muscle in her hands tensed and she crushed the cushion to her chest. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” He brushed his hands over his thighs and stood. “Remember we’re meeting Richard this afternoon at four o’clock. I’ll just go check if our rescheduled flight has been confirmed for tomorrow night and send out the final invite details to our guests before I get changed.”

  Shit. Belize. The wedding. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Kyle stretched his arms above his head, flashed a strip of bare flesh beneath his T-shirt. Skin she missed touching, kissing, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. What was wrong with her? She had to fix this. Fix her.

  He went to step past her, but she grabbed his hand. Her gut plummeted to the floor. “Wait . . . we need to talk. About the wedding.” She tugged his hand and he sat beside her. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “With everything that’s happened, I think we should wait. Maybe a couple weeks. A month. Maybe even longer.”

  “What?” Air rushed from his lungs. “No.” He swiveled around to face her. “You’re fine to fly. The doctor gave you the all clear.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She closed her eyes, searching her brain for the right words. “I need time. To recover. Clear my head.”

  “Yeah, we can do that together. On our honeymoon.”

  “It’s not just about Vicki.” There were other issues that needed resolving. “It’s about us too.”

  “What are you talking about?” His voice sliced her heart slowly, one deep cut at a time.

  She picked at the threads of the cushion; it helped her to focus. “After we got engaged, we toured for nine months and did promo. Life isn’t normal when we travel. We know that. But organizing a wedding around shows, events and the threats—things went haywire.”

  “Our circumstances haven’t been normal. Even for us, it’s been hectic. I agree.”

  The show business she could handle. It was the lack of a decent break, him changing their plans, and her capture that had exhausted her. “My life wasn’t my own. I got frustrated by everyone telling me what to do. You were suffocating my existence.”

  He flinched as if she’d torn his heart from his chest. “I what? Suffocated you? How?”

  The agony in his expression made her feel worse than she already did. But she’d opened her mouth and her stresses flooded out. “All the extra security, the checking up on me, the wanting to go everywhere with me. It got too much.”

  “Is that why you lied?” He spoke through gritted teeth. “About the other letters?”

  She twisted the cushion tassel tight around her finger. Fuck. He’d found out about them. “Things were bad enough; I didn’t want them to get worse. I felt trapped, like Rapunzel locked away in a tower. That’s not me.”

  He took her hand in his. “I know it’s not. Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t know what I was doing and how much it affected you.”

  “I got tired of fighting.”

  His eyes, dark and glassy, bored into hers. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so blasé about the threats, I wouldn’t have gone so crazy making sure you were safe. I could tell you were worried, but you never took things seriously. You put up this wall to make out you’re invincible when I know you’re not. I was scared for you. We all were.”

  “Everything just got so fucked up.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

  She dug her nails into the palm of her hand. “You want everything to be perfect all the time, and it’s not. I’m not perfect. You’ve gone loco over our wedding. You want the perfect suit. The perfect cake. The perfect day for everyone. Except in the whole process, you lost sight of us. All I wanted . . . what we initially wanted . . . was for the day to be about us. Nobody else.”

  “I want the people who are important to us there to celebrate. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Because they don’t matter. It’s our day, not theirs.”

  The pain storming in his eyes tore her heart. “They do matter. They’d do anything for us. They’re our family. Why can’t you see that?” He searched her face for her admission, but it never came. His shoulders slouched. “Gem, what’s going on? We never usually fight like this.”

  She sank deeper into the sofa. There’d been too much heartache and pain since they hooked up. “Life’s changed. We’ve grown up, had an insane ride with our music . . . fallen in love.” Gemma threaded her fingers with his. “We’re still finding our groove as a couple. Neither one of us likes to compromise. We’re stubborn and pigheaded.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I can’t flick a switch and go from nearly dying to getting married. I’m not thinking straight. Please, can we wait at least a month or two until I’m in the right headspace?”

  She heard his heartstrings snap. Furrows as deep as the Mariana Trench appeared in his brow. “Gem, I don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve waited too long to marry you.” He clutched her hands in his. “My heart broke when you didn’t turn up at Richard’s. I hated myself so much when I thought I’d driven you away. When we found out you’d been kidnapped, I lost my mind. You got hurt because I didn’t protect you enough.” Through clenched teeth, he shuddered. “I didn’t do enough to keep you safe.”

  She ripped her hands free from his. “Haven’t you heard a word I’m saying? You can’t protect me every second of the day. It’s impossible.”

  “I should be able to. With all our resources and money and tech, you should be the safest person on the planet.” He stopped and the color drained from his face. “Or is there something else going on?”

  She sniffled and a shudder rippled through her veins. “Don’t you feel it?” She hated the way the words tasted in her mouth. “There’s this wedge between us. It’s been growing and growing.”

  “What wedge? The few disagreements we’ve had about the wedding? Your safety? You not listening? That’s not a wedge; that’s life. We haven’t seen eye to eye. I know that’s weird for us, but it was bound to happen. Don’t draw conclusions based on a few crazy weeks.”

  She shook her head slowly. “This isn’t a sudden thing. It’s b
een gradual . . . over the past couple months.” Shit. Could she crush him anymore?

  “Gem, no.” He curled his hand behind her neck and threaded his fingers into her hair. He kneaded at the knots at the base of her skull. His touch normally made her melt. But not today. “We’ve had a few arguments; nothing we can’t sort out.”

  Her eyes stung; her heart ached like a rake had ripped it to shreds. “Then give me some time. Some space.”

  “Don’t shut me out. Not now.” Tears glassed his eyes.

  Her pulse hammered in her ears. “How can you marry me when I’m a mess?”

  He closed his eyes. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Because I love you. I know you. Better than yourself. You’re tough. A fighter. My Gem.”

  She’d thought so too. But she hadn’t been strong enough against Vicki, had come too close to losing her fight. She needed time to repair. “You’re all I thought about when Vicki had me. I want to marry you. I just need to feel better before we get on that plane.”

  His hands fell to his lap and he gazed at the floor.

  Her stomach twisted into a frenzy of somersaulting knots. “I’m sorry. Please understand.”

  Pain chiseled his face, dug deep hollows into his cheeks. “Can you be honest with me?” Darkness consumed his eyes. “Do you want to fucking marry me at all?”

  She gasped, lost for words. How could he question that? “I do, but—”

  “But nothing. We could get married and recoup on our honeymoon. I know you’ve been through hell. I’m here for you.”

  He went to wrap his arms around her, but she pushed them away. “I need to do this on my own. I need to fix me. You can’t help with that.”

  She placed her hands on the sofa to stand, but he grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know.” Her lip quivered. “Out. Away. Somewhere I can breathe.”

  “You can’t leave.”

  “Stop telling me what to fucking do. I’ve lived long enough in this crazy world and in the public eye to know how to look after myself. I don’t need you fathering me. I don’t remember having a dad. I don’t need one and don’t want you to start.”