Fury

by Tammy Coons

  “How much longer until we get back?”

  “An hour at this rate,” he stated bluntly. As they took a curve in the road there was a sudden a loud pop. Steph shrieked and Phillip counter steered as the car veered toward the ditch.

  Once the car came to a halt, Phillip slammed the car into park and got out. Steph sat in her seat shaking uncontrollably. Phillip yanked the car door open and grabbed the keys. A moment later he stuck his head back in the car. He was soaked.

  “What’s wrong?” Steph’s voices shaking.

  “Flat.” He slammed the door shut.

  Steph watched him as he walked to the trunk.

  “Bugger all!”

  Steph lunged out of the car.

  Phillip leaned against the car with his head down. “The key broke off in the lock!”

  “You mean we have no keys and a flat tire?” She shivered.

  “Yes and evidentially no cell phone reception,” Phillip snapped. “We have to walk.”

  “Where? It’s an hour into Dublin and thirty minutes back to the estate.”

  “Yeah, and that’s by car, not on foot. Get your things. I saw a cottage around the last bend!” Phillip yelled over the sound of the rain and the thunder.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Steph headed back to the car.

  “Ok then. Stay and freeze your arse off.” He began walking.

  Steph held her ground for a moment, and then grabbed her camera bag and purse. She followed, cursing him under her breath. Barely able to see, cold rain relentlessly beat down on them. Just when it seemed like they had been walking forever, Phillip stopped and waited for her to catch up.

  “There’s the cottage,” he informed her. Steph ran for it, and could sense Phillip close behind her. They approached a small, white washed cottage with a thatched roof partially hidden by bushes. The yard looked unattended and dust covered the windows. They hurried onto the porch and gasped to catch their breath. Phillip knocked on the door.

  “I highly doubt anyone lives here.” Steph was frustrated as she peered at the yard and the porch which was in major disrepair.

  Phillip wiggled the doorknob and the door creaked open.

  “Do you really think it’s safe to go in?” Steph’s teeth chattered.

  “Would you rather stay outside and catch pneumonia? At least it’s dry,” he snapped.

  He walked into the tiny structure and was enveloped by darkness. A moment later, Steph followed him. Once inside, she sat her camera bag and purse down and apprehensively walked forward. She squinted, but couldn’t see anything. She stopped for a second, and then continued forward boldly.

  “Phillip?” She reached out and touched something that moved. She screamed when Phillip grabbed her. His laugh was gentle.

  “It’s just me,” he said letting her go. “Do you have a lighter?”

  Relieved, Steph exhaled deeply. Phillip’s voice was surprisingly soothing. She dug until she found a lighter in her purse and flicked it on. Phillip stood before her, his hair slicked back and his blue eyes flashing brightly. He held out several half burnt candles; Steph lit them one by one.

  “You scared me to death,” she mumbled. Phillip placed candles around the room. As Steph’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a trunk against the far wall. She opened it and found that it was full of blankets. As her eyes began to adjust to the candlelight, she took in the rest of the rooms contents: a small table, a fireplace and several pieces of furniture draped by dustcovers. Phillip removed one from a chair, causing her to sneeze.

  “Sorry.” He flashed a cocky grin. Under the sheet was an old rocking chair. He continued around the room and uncovered two additional chairs and a cracked full length mirror. “Somebody’s got seven years bad luck.”

  He sat down on a second pile of blankets he’d found. Steph gingerly sat in the rocking chair and began searching for her cell phone.

  “Shit,” she blurted. “I forgot my phone at the hotel.”

  She threw her purse to the floor.

  Phillip glanced at her then removed his jacket.

  Even though she felt overwhelmed and frustrated, Steph couldn’t help by admire his large tattooed biceps.

  “No reception, remember?” He casually looked around. “You know with some new drapes this place wouldn’t look half bad.”

  “I’m freezing.” Steph’s teeth chattered as she rubbed her hands together.

  “I guess I could chop down a tree.” He walked to the window. He picked up one of the sheets and began wiping away the thick layer of dust.

  “That would be fine if the trees were dry,” Steph snapped.

  “Maybe if our cells worked we could ring Davey Boy and he could come to your rescue again,” Phillip retorted.

  “What is all this Davey Boy’ crap?” Phillip didn’t reply or even look in her direction. Steph stood and opened the door. It rained heavily and lightening lit up the charcoal hued sky.

  “We’ve got to get to a phone!” She slammed the door shut and began pacing. Phillip settled against the wall on the blankets, appearing completely underwhelmed.

  “Go ahead if you want.” He rolled his eyes. “I was planning on waiting for the rain to let up, but if you’re determined to leave...”

  “Fine, I will! I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

  “Then just sit down and chill out.”

  “I cannot wait to get back to the hotel—” Before she could finish her sentence about getting a dry change of clothes, Phillip interrupted her.

  “And back to David?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” She stopped pacing and faced him. He leaned against the wall casually, his hands interlaced behind his head. Even though Phillip was being an insufferable jackass, the sight of his impressive arms and magnificent jaw turned her on. Instantly her mind replayed their tryst on the plane and she felt her desire for him awakening. His eyes mocked her condescendingly, and she detested herself for wanting him so badly.

  “I suppose you’ll deny David spent the night in your room?”

  Steph looked at him thoughtfully and to her amazement he seemed jealous. Maybe Cheyenne was onto something after all. She decided to test her theory. “Yes, he did.”

  Phillip slowly climbed to his feet and though the candlelight made it hard to be sure, Steph thought his gorgeous features seemed flushed.

  “Judging by the look on his face he had a smashing time.” He scowled at her.

  “Well you know…I aim to please.”

  In a flash, Phillip closed the distance between them. He towered over her and her heart lurched in her chest. She looked up into his eyes and the pain she saw in them caused her to immediately look away. Consumed with regret, she decided it was time to soften her tone and end her game playing. Her temper often clouded her judgment; she remembered her brother endless lectures to stop and think before she spoke.

  “He slept in the chair. He has a girlfriend he calls every day. Not every woman in the world is going to fall on her back just because the man’s a rock star.”

  When he didn’t reply, she stole a glance at him.

  Phillip stood silent and seemed to ponder this turn of events. He was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from him, and his potency was disturbing. Confused by her conflicting feelings, she had the overwhelming urge to run.

  “You know, I think I will wait in the car after all,” she announced and rushed out the door. The minute she stepped off the porch, she slipped in the mud and fell. Humiliated, she covered her face with a muddy hand wishing she could simply disappear. A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Phillip stood over her and, as he leaned down, the rain dripped off his face and onto hers.

  “Come inside.” His voice was gentle as he offered his hand. Steph batted it away.

  “Get away from me,” she cried.

  Phillip sighed and offered his hand once more. Reluctantly, she reached out and grasped it. She looked up at him feeling dreadfully vulnerable. As she stood up she began to
slip again and Phillip embraced her, steadying her body with his. They stood together in the rain staring at one another. A million words seemed to pass between them, though neither one of them spoke. Phillip reached out and brushed mud from her cheek. Rain ran down his rugged face and Steph’s eyes went to his parted wet lips. Remembering how he tasted, she could see Phillip’s breath and knew it was chilly but she felt warm all over. His face neared hers. Her heart racing, Stephanie tilted her head back, and their lips met. The sky lit magnificently, echoing their electricity, and thunder echoed around them. They pulled apart lingering for a moment.

  “We’d better get inside.” His expression was serious as he glanced at the myriad of lightning strikes nearby. He led her back into the cottage and once inside, Steph opened the trunk of blankets, shivering violently. Phillip easily ripped the rocking chair apart, and placed the wood into the fireplace. Meanwhile, Steph wrapped one of the blankets around her body and attempted to shed her wet clothes. Once finally undressed, she clutched the blanket around herself as she draped her wet undergarments over a nearby chair. Phillip approached her and with a glance at her bra and panties on the chair, he blushed deeply. He took her hand and led her to the blanket pile in front of the tiny fire he’d built.

  “Sorry about the fire. I never did do well in Boy Scouts.”

  Steph smiled. Phillip found another blanket and stood, looking from the blanket to Steph.

  “Could you turn around so I can get out of these wet clothes?”

  “OK.” She turned away, but watched him undress in the broken mirror. His bronze, muscular body lived up to his sex god image, and Steph wished she could break out her camera.

  “Are you enjoying the show?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him directly.

  They locked eyes, silent for some time. As he joined her by the fire, she thought about his gentle nature with his family and his visit to her room when she’d been feeling ill. His contradicting behavior frustrated her, but right now she felt frustrated in an entirely different way.

  He reached out and stroked her cheek and his lips brushed hers. Steph’s hands instinctively went to his strong chest and she traced his ripped muscles with her fingertips. A small growl escaped him and his kiss deepened. Steph pulled away and stared into his eyes which traveled hungrily downward, and she realized her blanket had fallen open. She attempted to cover herself, but Phillip stopped her hand and shook his head. His eyes glittered with delight as he pushed the blanket down over her shoulders. His mouth trailed from her jawline down her neck to the soft flesh of her breasts. As he ran a hand down her back, she shivered at his touch. He pushed her back on the blankets, kissing her forcefully. His lips traveled down her body, lingering on the succulent flesh of her breasts. Squirming deliciously beneath his mouth, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling his lips to hers. Her thoughts raced as his tongue touched hers again. As she tasted him, she couldn’t help but feel that his lips were made for hers. Steph thought she could spend every waking moment for the rest of her days kissing this man. Thrusting her girly sentiments aside, she rolled over on top of him covering his body with wet taunting kisses. She felt him wrap her hair around his hand as if it were a rope. His aggressiveness aroused her more and her enthusiasm matched his as she enveloped him with her mouth.

  “Stephanie,” Phillip moaned.

  Pulling at her hair, it appeared he was no longer able to stand the temptation. She allowed him to bring her face up to his and saw his eager eyes heavy with lust. Lifting her and positioning her on top of him, he brought her down roughly onto his rigidness. Steph cried out in pleasure. His hands caressed her breasts as they ravaged each other like depraved animals. She reveled in the passionate way he reacted to her every move. When Steph’s orgasm overtook her, she clawed at Phillip’s chest, inspiring him to explode. She collapsed on his chest and heard his heart pounding wildly. He kissed her tenderly and rolled her over onto her back. Feeling euphoric, she delighted as he pulled her into an embrace. He wrapped a blanket around them both, cradling her in his arms. They entangled in another passionate kiss, while outside the storm raged on.

  Cheyenne stood by the window in her room, staring out at her rainy view of the mountains. The day had taken an ugly turn, and she was upset and regretful that she’d taken chances with her career. As soon as she’d returned to her room, Adam Brier called. Ian had called him telling him about the situation. Furious over the way she’d represented the magazine, Adam stated that the story had better be ‘award winning’ or her career at The Sound Wave would be in jeopardy.

  Glancing at her watch she saw it was 4:00 pm and felt relieved Steph would be back soon. Dialing Steph’s number, she frowned when she heard it ring in the next room. Evidently Steph had been pretty freaked out about her trip with Phillip if she’d forgotten her beloved cellphone. Sighing, she sat in front of her computer and began surfing the web. Had it not been for the rain, she’d have explored Dublin further on foot, lockdown or not. Cheyenne considered that in some ways, Ian seemed jealous of the relationship she and Steph had developed with Fury. The band treated Ian like a nagging wife. The sound of sirens approaching outside pulled her from her theories.

  Hurrying to the window, from her vantage point she couldn’t see anything. Deciding to ignore Ian’s request and investigate, she made her way to the elevator and down to the lobby. Once there, she spotted Goddess talking to the police.

  Now what did she do?

  Goddess looked in her direction and waved.

  “What’s going on?”

  “This is Cheyenne Carson. She’s a journalist. Maybe she knows him,” Goddess told the policeman.

  “Did you know Sam Ridgley?” one of the officers asked.

  Cheyenne shook her head.

  “Who?”

  Goddess was wide eyed.

  “He was one of the roadies. They think he jumped.”

  A waved of realization washed over her. Sam was the young roadie Steph had talked to backstage.

  “Oh, w…wow,” Cheyenne stammered in disbelief.

  “Ms. Carson, Goddess told us that you and a Stephanie Brier are here doing a story on Fury. Do you have any information about Mr. Ridgley?”

  “We never met. I believe Steph spoke with him one night backstage.”

  “And where is she currently?” the police officer asked.

  “She’s not here but she'll be back soon.”

  He handed Cheyenne a card. “Please, have her call me.”

  Cheyenne glanced at Goddess. “Goddess, can I talk to you?”

  “Go ahead, we are finished for now,” the police officer said. Cheyenne pulled Goddess in the bar.

  “Did you see anything?” Cheyenne whispered.

  “Yeah… it was weird, I was walking along and splat there he was.” Goddess shrugged.

  “That’s morbid.”

  “You asked. I’ve got to get ready. I’m going out tonight.”

  “Goddess?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why is it that no one in L.A. knows who you are?” Goddess’s eyes immediately met Cheyenne’s.

  “I was wondering when you would ask me that question.” Goddess’s demeanor changed and her speech seemed crisp and different. “Everything will be clear to you very soon, Cheyenne. Can I ask you not to talk to anyone else about this conversation?”

  “I suppose. But I am doing this for Adam Brier, not for you.”

  “Ian is going to call you to a conference room tonight and announce to the band that you are leaving after Rome. I thought you might like the time to prepare.”

  Without another word, Goddess walked out of the bar and left the hotel through the lobby.

  Cheyenne watched her go, ruminating. Her gut told her to trust Adam, and this was not the time to stop trusting her gut.

  Ian watched the bedlam from his window. Paralyzed with regret, he wondered how he’d allowed himself to get involved in such mayhem. He’d managed to destroy his personal life years before, and now
his career was in shambles.

  “Do you realize how sloppy this was?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “Murder is sloppy,” Duncan said from behind him.

  Ian shook his head.

  “You disgust me.” Duncan laughed, making Ian’s skin crawl. The phone rang and he picked it up. The police. He made arrangements to speak with them and hung up.

  “Please leave me and don’t let anyone see you.”

  Duncan shrugged then left the room.

  Ian turned to Rodney and Steve, who sat in his suite.

  “He was calling the redhead.” Steve seemed nonchalant. “He left us little choice.”

  Ian surveyed Steve, then Rodney. He mustered the courage to proceed.

  “I called Mr. Brier and he is sending all the records we wanted to see. As soon as I get them I will be in touch,” Ian whispered. “It sounds like she is who she says she is.”

  “Alright, perhaps she’s not a mole. Still, I really think this was a big mistake on your part, Ian,” Rodney replied. “Cheyenne is smarter than she looks and I think she’s onto us.”

  “I really don’t know when she would find the time with all her cavorting.” Ian’s animosity for both men was obvious, but he no longer cared to hide it. His career had become a farce due to his association with them, and what little relationship he’d managed to maintain with Fury was slipping away. Cheyenne’s presence had only complicated his precarious alliance with his band.

  “She’ll be gone soon, gentlemen. I need to go to the airport and take care of the arrangements for the product. Soon this will all be over and we can go back to doing what we’ve done before,” Steve smirked.

  Ian knew he wouldn’t relax until Cheyenne was back in Chicago.

  Phillip woke with a yawn and rolled over, discovering Stephanie was no longer at his side. Sunlight shone through the grimy windows and it appeared as if the storms of the day before were behind them. Digging in the pockets of his discarded pants for his cell phone, he slipped the jeans on. Finding his phone, which now had reception, he discovered it was nine am. Phillip wasn’t surprised, remembering how late into the night they’d enjoyed each other’s company. As he put his arm into his shirt sleeve, he poked his head out the door. Steph was sitting on the porch steps wearing only a t-shirt and his boxers. She was looking out at the clear blue sky. Joining her, took her hand.