Unwritten

by Jen Frederick

  A loud, awful crack fills the air. His head jerks back as the base catches him across the cheek. He staggers, careening sideways. Blood lust surges through me. I charge forward, grabbing the next thing I can get my hands on, and bring that down on his head. Splinters of wood spray to the side. A discordant chord plays.

  “Dammit, that’s my fucking guitar!” someone screams.

  I turn feral teeth on the complainer. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Whatever he sees on my face scares the shit out of him, because he backs off. I bring the broken guitar back down on Marrow’s bloody face again and again and—

  “That’s enough, slugger.”

  I’m suddenly hauled backwards, courtesy of Adam.

  I glance at my hand to see that I’m holding only the neck and the guitar strings. The drum broke away and I didn’t even notice. I rub a palm across my face and look down to find that it’s speckled in blood.

  “Shit,” Adam curses. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  His face is as white as flour.

  “It’s not mine,” I inform him.

  He lifts the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe my face. His hands are trembling slightly. “I didn’t think it was. The ambulance is here.”

  “Already?” It seems like only seconds have passed. I start to shake myself. We’re both in a state. His fingers flex around the shirt. One hand bites into my upper arm as he holds me steady. I’ve never seen his jaw tighter.

  “They have one on-site for a gig as big as this one. They’re loading Rudd into it. You ready?”

  I nod and let the last of the guitar drop from my hand.

  “Is Rudd okay?”

  “He will be.”

  “I owe that guy a new guitar,” I say absently.

  “I’ll send him one of my dad’s.”

  “Okay.” I finally allow myself to lean into him.

  He heaves one deep sigh and then another as he tries to get control of his emotions. I bury the side of my face into his chest and try not to think of all the terrible things that could’ve happened.

  Two police officers and a handful of black-shirted guys with white letters spelling out SECURITY muscle their way toward us. One of them drops to his knees beside Marrow who is still out cold.

  “You do this?” A police officer takes a threatening step toward Adam.

  No way does he get to take credit for this. I wave my hand. “It was me.”

  “Maybe dial back the cheerfulness,” Adam murmurs from behind me.

  I ignore him and approach the officer. “I’m Landry Olsen and this is Christopher Paul Marrow. I have a restraining order that prohibits him from getting within two miles of me. Further, he’s on probation and is not supposed to leave Central City.”

  The officer pulls out a smartphone. “What’s his name again?”

  I recite it and every other detail I know about Marrow. With each word, the bands of fear that have been constricting my chest since Marrow’s first attack begin to loosen. By the end, when the Phoenix officers are loading Marrow onto the stretcher, I take the first free breath I’ve experienced in far too long.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Adam

  The metallic taste of fear lingers on the back of my tongue. When I heard Landry shout Marrow’s name, my heart stopped. I didn’t feel better when I saw it was Rudd on the ground, blood pooling around a nasty blade in his gut.

  Now that we’re here at the hospital, I can’t seem to let go of her. Davis keeps glaring at me.

  “Landry, come on. I want you to get that hand looked at,” Davis says, crouching in front of her.

  She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Seriously. You could have a cut.” He reaches for her but she jerks away.

  “I’m fine. All the blood was his. Marrow’s, I mean,” she explains unnecessarily.

  “All right.” Davis straightens, gives me another pointed look, then jerks his head to the side.

  He wants to talk to me, and while the hospital where our bandmate is currently being treated isn’t the optimal site, there’s no point in putting off this confrontation.

  Reluctantly, I release Landry and gesture toward the door.

  “After you.”

  He gives a sharp nod and stomps toward the exit door.

  “Where’re you going?” Landry calls out.

  “Stay here,” I say.

  She doesn’t listen.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Davis whirls on us. “That’s my question. What the hell is going on between the two of you?”

  Landry stumbles back from the fierceness of his tone. I steady her with a hand at her back.

  “Don’t talk to your sister like that.” Not even her brother gets to treat her like shit. Not while I’m around.

  Davis doesn’t want to hear from me. “How long have you been fucking him?”

  She flinches at the coarse talk, but doesn’t back down. “I’ve been sleeping with him since Texas.”

  He slams his hand against the wall. “And you’ve been hiding this the entire time?”

  “That’s enough, Davis. Not here.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ian get to his feet.

  He cocks his head. “Then let’s take it outside.”

  “Fine.” This fight between Davis and me has been a long time in coming. He’s been pissed off at me ever since I turned the commercial down.

  “Stop it, you guys.” Landry pops between us. “Rudd’s in surgery. You cannot be having a fistfight while your bandmate is fighting for his life.”

  Davis and I ignore her. He brushes by her and I follow.

  “Ian,” Landry hisses.

  Ian stays in the corner with his baby and his wife. His silence is agreement. Davis and I need to have this out.

  Davis slams the palm of his hand against the waiting room doors. Two more sets of doors and we’re out in the parking lot.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Landry yells. “Seriously, you guys are both idiots.”

  “You’ve been lying to me for a month. Tossing aside my ideas. Refusing to allow the band to move forward. You scared, bro? A real man would’ve told me.”

  I clench my jaw. A direct hit. A real man would’ve told him. I’ve been hiding behind Landry’s skirts, but not anymore. “Fine. You want to know? Your sister and I are a couple. Deal with it.”

  “Why don’t you deal with this.” He charges forward, driving his shoulder into my gut. I let him take me to the ground and give him one good shot at my face. Because every brother deserves that. But he only gets the one. I block his next blow and roll out from underneath him. Blood drips from the corner of my mouth.

  “Nice shot.” I raise my hands. “Let’s see what else you got.”

  “Would you two just fucking stop it! You’re making fools out of yourselves!” Landry yells.

  Davis ignores her and charges at me like a bull. He gets in a good punch to my side because I’m expecting one in my face but I swing out of the way to avoid the uppercut headed for my chin.

  “Would you two stop it!” Landry screams. “I beat Marrow and I swear to God, I’m taking a mic stand to your heads, too! This isn’t even about me. It’s about the music!”

  Davis pauses, her accusation sinking in. She’s right. It’s not about her. It’s about Davis wanting more control of the band.

  He jabs and I feint. I’m not going to hit him while his sister is watching, but I’m not about to get my face beat in because he wants more control. All my front men wanted to be in charge. They thought they knew best one hundred percent of the time.

  “This is my band,” I say unwisely.

  “Then you can sing your own songs, because I’m done.” Davis straightens. He turns to Landry. “I’m going home. You can come with me or stay with Adam.”

  She gives an anguished cry. He’s a dick for making her choose, but I’m the asshole who put them both in that position.

  “Fuck. Wait
.” I hold out a hand. “I’m sorry. Look, it’s been a while since I’ve had a band. I’ve been dicked over in the past, so I’m super protective of my shit. That’s wrong. I don’t want you to leave.”

  I’m saying this stuff to Davis, but it’s meant for Landry, too. But she needs the words as well. “Don’t go, Landry. I love you, and I’ll be fucking miserable without you if you leave.”

  Her face grows pale with shock and…is that horror?

  “You…love me?” she stammers.

  Fuck, is there a worse way for me to confess this? But it’d be stupid and lying to deny it. Besides, I don’t want to deny it, even if it loses me Davis. I raise my chin. Hit me with your best shot. “Yeah, I love you.”

  She stares at me. “Since when?”

  “Since…I don’t know. San Antiono.”

  “San Antiono?” She yelps.

  “Christ, yeah. Maybe before. How can you not know? I haven’t even looked at another woman since you showed up. Every song I sing, I’m singing it to you. Every time I’m up on stage, it’s to make you want me more.” I can’t believe I’m arguing with her about this. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Davis cross his arms and lean back on his heels as if he’s enjoying seeing me pour out my guts on the asphalt.

  “You didn’t even tell me you wrote songs for other people.” She throws up her arms. “I thought you thought we were hooking up.”

  “Well, we’re not,” I say tersely. This isn’t how I thought my declaration of love was going to go. A knot of tension balls up at the base of my neck.

  She starts blinking and then tears start flowing. “I was going to tell you that I loved you and Marrow ruined it all,” she cries. Her telltale blush quickly engulfs her entire face. She throws herself at me, digging her face into my chest.

  I nearly collapse with relief. I dig my hands into her hair and force her face up so I can kiss that beautiful mouth of hers.

  Before I can make contact, she jerks back. “Oh my God. I can’t believe we did this in front of my brother.”

  I glance over and Davis is still standing there. I glare at him. He glares right back.

  “I don’t care who the fuck hears,” I say for both the benefit of both the Olsens. “I think you have something to say, right?”

  “I love you, too,” she mumbles.

  I pull back and tip her chin up. “Again, for the kids in the back.”

  She twists around to face Davis, who’s standing there looking bemused. “I love him. Don’t leave the band because of me. Talk to each other and work it out.”

  She wriggles out of my embrace, but doesn’t run off right away. Instead, she pushes up on her tiptoes to plant a hard, tongue-filled kiss against my mouth. A kiss that rouses the beast in my jeans. He has no appreciation for time and place.

  I draw back and swipe my thumb across her wet lip. “I can’t handle anything more,” I tell her ruefully.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do any more than that, too,” Davis chimes in.

  Landry lifts her finger to flick her brother off.

  “If you two are done acting like five-year-olds, Rudd’s out of surgery,” Ian calls from the doorway.

  “This isn’t finished.” Davis stomps forward.

  Landry hears him. “Oh yes, it is. This is my life and I get to decide who I sleep with.”

  “There you go,” I say.

  “But, Adam, if you want Davis to be part of the band, then we all have to get along.”

  “Ha,” Davis exclaims.

  “You both need to shut up and focus on Rudd,” she admonishes.

  I drag a hand over my mouth and mumble, “Sorry.”

  Davis mutters something under his breath that may have been sorry or may have been fuck you.

  “What’d the doctor say,” I ask when I reach Ian. I give Jack a pat on the ass. He makes no sound. Little dude can apparently sleep through a tornado.

  “It’s good news. Nothing vital was hit. They had to remove his spleen and he has some ligament and muscle damage in his torso but they stitched it up and said that he shouldn’t have too many problems in the future.”

  “What does too many problems mean?”

  “He’ll have some tightness, maybe won’t be able to do as many crunches in the gym but Rudd’s convinced that his scar is going to attract the ladies.”

  A surprised laugh bursts out of me. “Of course he does. He must be feeling better, then.”

  * * *

  Inside the hospital room, a very pretty nurse is tucking the blanket around Rudd.

  “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?” Rudd is saying as we walk in.

  “Yes, a couple of times.”

  “It needs to be said a couple of times,” he drawls. “Maybe a hundred times so that whatever deity made you understands we appreciate her good work.”

  “You’re cute,” the nurse says, patting him on the shoulder.

  “I’ll take the compliment and your number.”

  She waves as she walks out.

  “I’m serious,” he calls out, sitting up. He groans and clutches his waist.

  I rush forward. “Lie down, you fool.”

  “I’m the fool?” he says but does as I order. “Heard you and Davis were out in the parking lot doing a little WWE.”

  “We were just messing around,” I lie.

  Davis crosses to the other side of the room. Rudd rolls his head in Davis’s direction. “Found out about your sister and Adam, huh?”

  Davis throws up his arms. “You knew, too?”

  “Duh,” Rudd says, lying back. “Everyone did.”

  “Everyone?” The two Olsens chorus together.

  Rudd grins. “You can tell you two are related. You’re both clueless as fuck.” He rolls his head on the pillow until he can face me. “Hey, man, I’m sorry about this. I know this is going screw up your plans. You should get a session guitarist to fill in for me.”

  A chorus of protests erupt. I gape at Rudd. “A session guitarist? I’m not filling your position. What would make you think that?”

  He shrugs. “You’ve got your plans for the band.”

  The band. Not our band. Rudd has played with me for over five years. I find a chair to settle my ass onto.

  “This is your band, too,” I say. “It belongs to all of us. Even Davis. While you’re recovering, D and I will kiss and make up.”

  “I hope I get to watch that,” Berry chimes in from the corner. Next to her, Ian smirks.

  “But Hollister mentioned Burning Man. That’s a big fucking deal,” Rudd moans.

  “We’d have to take a break anyway,” I inform him. “Because WWR has offered us an album deal.”

  “WWR?” He shoots upright. “Are you kidding me? What’d you say?”

  “That I had to talk to you all about it.”

  He flops back on the pillows. “Shit. I wish I could drink. We should be toasting this moment.”

  “I’ll write a new song. One about how the best things take you by surprise,” I joke.

  “Or Davis could write the lyrics while you write the melody and Ian and Rudd can lay down the beat,” Landry suggests.

  My lips curve up. I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her to me. “That’s perfect. See, this is why you need to stay with the band.”

  “Landry’s joining the band?” Rudd asks. “What’s her instrument?”

  “The horn,” she smirks.

  Davis groans but everyone else, including me, laughs for a good five minutes.

  The nurse kicks us out and I draw Landry aside.

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Well, I’m not. I was scared shitless.” I draw her into my arms. I don’t know if I can hold her enough. I bury my nose in her hair and take deep long draws until my lungs are filled with her scent.

  “I was scared, too.”

  “Really? You didn’t seem like it.” The vision of her running after Marrow will live in my head for a long time.

&
nbsp; “I was scared and then I was mad and then I was scared again,” she says, leaning in to me.

  I shift slightly, taking the welcome weight on my heels. “Adrenaline.”

  I bend down and seek out her mouth. She tastes like life and hope and all my tomorrows. My arms tighten around her when I think of how close I was to losing her.

  Her tongue slides against mine, and we spend countless seconds, minutes, kissing each other deeply. My hands drop to her hips.

  “We need to find some place private,” I murmur against her mouth.

  “Not another bathroom,” she replies. I feel her smile against my lips.

  “Stairwell?”

  “We’ll have to keep our clothes on.”

  “Can I put my hand down your skirt?” I’ll take anything. I rock my growing erection against her.

  Her small hand creeps around my hip to squeeze my ass. “Only if I can do the same.”

  “Done.” I grab her hand and drag her down the hall, stopping at the first exit sign I see.

  I sit down on a step and pull her on top of me. She straddles me, a knee on either side of my hip. Her mini skirt rides up. I might’ve helped it a little bit, just to make her more comfortable.

  “I thought you said over the clothes.” she scolds, but there’s a smile on her face.

  I squeeze her ass. “No, I specifically bargained for under the clothes touching.”

  She leans back to place her palms on my knees. The laces of her shirt have loosened and the fabric gapes invitingly. Beneath her eyelashes, she shoots me a wicked look. “Then lets make the most of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Landry

  “Are you okay with Adam and me?” I ask. Davis and I snuck out to get something to eat in the hospital cafeteria.

  Davis runs a hand through his hair. “Does it matter what I think?”

  I jam my fists against my hips. “Of course it does,” I reply indignantly.

  “If it mattered so much, why keep it a secret?”

  I exhale heavily. “Because I was worried about how you’d take it. You and Adam were mad at each other and I didn’t want to add to that.”