Darling's Desire

by T. D. Hassett

  “Remind me not to piss you off; those nails of yours are kinda lethal.” Ross stopped at a locker, grabbed his shit, and they were ready to go.

  “Yeah, man you should’ve seen Luke Wilson of Rat Core mistake Darling for a groupie. He had her backed into a dressing room, but she took care of business. You got yourself a real wildcat.” Bobby laughed, slapping his brother on the back. Darling blushed furiously.

  “What the fuck! That son of a bitch laid a hand on her? Where were you and where is he now?” Ross turned, clenching his fists. She should never have had to defend herself.

  “No, dude, calm down—I just stopped to take a piss, but trust me, this little girl took him out but good. She did this Karate Kid chop and swinging back kick so hard to his nuts, I think he’s gonna have to take a leak out of his mouth for the next few days. Heck, my balls hurt from just seeing it.” Bobby laughed.

  Darling cringed. “He didn’t hurt me. He just seemed to think I was backstage for an entirely different reason, so I used my college gym class to discourage him,” she reassured, reaching for Ross’ arm.

  Ross was still going to kick his ass if he saw the ass hat tonight. That boy had no sense and was always pushing his luck.

  “You learned how to beat guys up in a college gym class?” Bobby asked arching his brow at her.

  Darling smiled before turning toward him. “I had to take two physical education classes to get my degree. I chose women’s self-defense for one of them.”

  Bobby couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What was the other class, urban combat techniques?”

  “Fly casting,” she answered, smiling far too sweetly at them both, sending his brother back into fits of giggles.

  They reached the back lot where tour buses were idling and tractor-trailers sat parked waiting to be loaded for the next stop. His personal stuff was shoved into his bag, and the crew handled his drums, so they were technically good to go.

  “Hey, man, thanks for doing this for me—I owe you one. You flying back home tomorrow?”

  “Oh, no problem. This was awesome. I’m going to grab a flight in the morning. It was great to meet you and hang out with you today, Darling.” Bobby waved and walked to his rental car.

  “Your other brother wouldn’t happen to be Gary or Ray would it?” she asked, watching Bobby go.

  He shook his head smiling. “Got one by each name as a matter of fact.” He led Darling to his Land Cruiser, anxious to get her alone.

  Chapter 32

  Ross flipped to the next page and added more notes and a few phrases of words he thought would be good lyrics. After another line, he took his reading glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t write very much of the music for Becket, but sometimes he just got a beat going in his head and the lyrics would flow. Link wrote his own guitar parts, or sometimes Tommy would, although Tommy could only write in guitar tablature; he didn’t read music the way Link did. That fancy Juilliard education had been good for something.

  He had never done much in the way of schooling. Dropped out as a teenager and took a job on a ranch. One of the perks to the job was an old drum setup in a storage shed. The owner of the ranch had a son who got interested in playing for a while and then gave it up. When that boy went off to college, the ranch owner told him he could have the drum set. But there wasn’t really room for a drum set in the double-wide trailer he lived in with his brothers, so the rancher worked a deal with him. In exchange for a little extra work around the property, Ross could use the drums in the shed.

  Eventually he found a couple of guys who played instruments, and they set up the place as a little band room. There were some talented musicians in East Texas, and he soaked up every word those older guys that came by to jam said. He married Lisa as soon as his paychecks were regular enough, and they got their own trailer. He played out with a couple of different local groups, but there wasn’t any money in it. Lisa liked the attention of being the wife of a guy in a band, even if it was only part time. She’d boss around the other guys’ girlfriends and haze local groupies. When he thought back, he realized that she was really a very petty and narcissistic woman, like Curley’s wife from that book he’d read a time back.

  Although he learned a lot on his own, he knew that if Tommy hadn’t picked him up at that bar and auditioned him for Becket, he probably never would’ve made anything of himself musically. He’d still be a ranch hand or maybe a foreman on the ranch by now.

  He glanced over at Darling, who was carefully measuring and writing down notes. She’d said she was working on some sort of recipe involving phyllo dough, whatever that was. It was nice, both of them working on their own thing in the same room. He’d never had that. Lisa had never been interested in the writing part of music and none of her hobbies included anything remotely domestic. Hell, the only thing she seemed to have liked was spending his money and partying. He cringed, remembering how he used to feel like such a big man back then because he could throw money around and support her wild spending.

  The ring of his cell phone forced his gaze away from Darling’s sweet backside. Tommy’s name flashed across the screen almost as if memories of their first meeting had conjured up the call.

  “Hey, mate, you about ready to get your ass in gear and come back to work? I’m sure you’re enjoying getting pissed every night and smacking your own balls, but we got shows to prep for,” Tommy razzed him in his colorful British accent.

  Ross took some time to translate what his friend and boss was asking him: Are you done drinking and fucking around and are you coming to work? Okay, got it.

  “Man, I would love to get over there. I’m just waiting on my visa still so I can travel. You know the holdup.” He shook his head as if Tommy could somehow see him through the phone connection.

  “What the fuck? John Ross, your visa is sitting there in the Boston office waiting for you. Get your shit in gear, pack up your shiny new sticks, and let’s go, man.”

  “Well, about time. Damn, I’ll book a flight for tonight and hook up with you guys in the morning. Where did you rent practice space?”

  “As long as you have been enjoying your extra vacation, all is well. Fuckin’ drummers.” Tommy laughed. “We’re rehearsing in bloody Camden, and we’ve got a sold-out show at the London Times Arena, fucking 68,000 screaming Becket fans. The neighborhood here is a bit dodgy, but you’ll love it. My mum, da, and kid sister will be at the first show—can you believe that? So hurry up so we can get in a few practices and tweak some shit.” Tommy laughed again and hung up. It was his way. He said what he said, gave them all a hard time about something, and got on with it. Ross had only worked with a few other major league bands, but he knew he was beyond lucky to be with Becket. The guys all treated each other like family, which meant they loved each other, but they could also really get on each other’s nerves and be total fuck-tards

  “Is your visa situation all cleared up?” Darling asked over her shoulder.

  “Yes, that was Tommy. He said my visa is waiting for me in Boston. I got to grab a flight, preferably tonight. I know we haven’t had time to talk about this, but I really want you to come with me for part of the tour. I don’t want to leave you here with all the things that have gone down.” He eyed her carefully, hoping she’d be excited.

  “So you want me to go with you because you’re worried about me? Is that the only reason?” Darling turned back to her cooking.

  Ross shoved his hands through his long hair and pulled his reading glasses off, dropping them clumsily to the table. “Hell yeah, I’m worried about you and yeah I want you to come—often and loudly.” He didn’t want to go beyond that reason, he wasn’t ready yet. He wouldn’t tell her that he couldn’t imagine not being around her, not watching her cook, not teasing her over little things. On the other hand it would be tough having her along on a tour. The rock festival the other night had been difficult enough. He wouldn’t be able to watch out for her all the time between shows, after-parties, practices, and
everything.

  Then again, Isabel and Madison were on the tour and with their kids in tow since it was summer vacation. Perhaps Darling could stay at whatever place they were renting? Knowing Tommy, he would have rented quite the flat or maybe even an estate for his wife and kids. There was no way he would have them crammed into different hotel rooms night after night. When they played a bunch of dates in Latin America, Tommy rented a huge hacienda for Isabel and the kids and had a helicopter fly him back and forth to the different tour stops. Ross was certainly rich, but he wasn’t quite Tommy rich yet. Besides, how would it look, him parking Darling in rentals across Europe—hell, he’d only known her for two weeks.

  “While I appreciate your concern and everything, I can’t go. I’m taking care of Beauty Belle here and really do need to get more organizing and packing and sorting done and work a bit more on my recipes. Thanks for offering. I’m sure a lot of other girls would love to go,” Darling said without a hint of emotion.

  How could she just turn him down like he was offering her a spare movie ticket? He was basically telling her that he wanted to be exclusive and continue living together, and she was just shrugging it off like it was rainwater on a duck’s back. Well, his mama didn’t raise a quitter, and he sure as hell would find a way to change her mind. He had plans to make and several more hours to get them done, but one way or another, his Darling was going on that plane.

  Chapter 33

  Darling poked her finger into the bowl and scooped a dollop of the filling she’d whipped up. She took a quick taste and shook her head; it just needed something more. She added the tiniest sprinkle of ginger and jotted down the addition in her notebook. This might be it. She took another taste and shook her head, disappointed that the filling was still not quite right. Damn Ross. He got her thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking. She was determined to figure out what she was doing with her life and go ahead and live it, and he had to go all protective big brother on her again. Inviting her to go with him on the tour because he was afraid something else would happen around the house and he’d feel guilty. She wasn’t helpless. She knew her mind and was willing to admit she was disappointed that he wasn’t asking her to go on the tour because he wanted to be with her. And now that she’d seen the things guys and bands got up to while playing, she was even more disheartened.

  Ross probably would have groupies all over him and be going to all kinds of parties. She knew she wasn’t part of that world; she wasn’t outgoing and daring like Madison. Deep in her heart she wished she were. She wanted to go on adventures, throw caution to the wind and not worry what hotel she woke up in the next morning, well, as long as it was with Ross. Maybe she had done it again. Maybe she had gotten involved with someone and started taking it far more seriously than the other party. Zack had seemed into her, and in the end he was looking for more of a friend with benefits casual thing. She just read too much into it. It might be that she was doing that same thing with Ross. Only he had been very upfront and honest with her. He kept reminding her that he was on his way to join the tour at any time, so she couldn’t be mad at him now that time was upon them.

  David knocked on the kitchen door, pulling her from her thoughts. She opened it up and Beauty Belle scrambled in, moving straight to her water bowl, lapping up a good amount.

  “Hi, Darling. Thank you for letting me play with your dog. I don’t have a dog. We played catch, and she does lots of tricks. She even chased another rabbit, but I think it got away this time. Did you know she does lots of tricks?” David asked as he stared at his own shoes.

  She wanted to tap him on the shoulder and make him look at her face when he spoke, but perhaps it was part of his disability.

  “She caught a rabbit before?” she asked, the whole bunny-gate episode suddenly taking on a new light.

  David nodded, but she decided not to press him.

  “Well, she’s a pretty cool dog. She can do tons of things. She knows dozens of commands and usually helps her owner take care of their baby, sort of the Nan of the Jack’s family.” She smiled at him, but he still wasn’t looking at her.

  “Okay, well, I got to get home.”

  “Wait, take these with you, they’re caramel brownies. I’m glad you and Beauty Belle had fun.” Darling bid David a good evening and locked the door behind him. It was sweet of him to come and play with Beauty Belle; he seemed to really like dogs. Too bad he didn’t have one of his own.

  Boom, boom, boom. Darling could hear Ross’ drumming all the way from the other end of the house. She threw out the mix she’d been working on. It was a lost cause. Her head just hadn’t been in the recipe. Not since he’d wandered off to play his drums and she hadn’t seen him the last couple of hours.

  After his drums arrived, she made it clear that he would be best served setting them up in the downstairs office. There were a couple doors between that room and her kitchen, so it wouldn’t be quite as deafening as if the drums were out in the open great room. Apparently since he hadn’t really settled into his ranch, he was practicing at some rented space in New York City when not doing tours or studio work. There must be some soundproofing, otherwise his neighbors would be apoplectic. She knew he was catching an overnight flight, so he’d be heading out in the next couple of hours. She wanted to talk to him, hold him…something, but she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. Just pull up your big girl panties and get the damn dishes washed up.

  Beauty Belle began barking furiously, pacing back and forth in front of the French doors in the living room. Perhaps the drumming was annoying her too. She called to the dog, but for once Beauty didn’t respond immediately and continued to howl and pace through the great room. “Beauty! What’s a matter, girl? You see squirrels or a bear out there? Come on.” Darling walked through the kitchen into the living room, stopping dead in her tracks at the loud pops and sound of smashing glass exploding through the patio doors. Shards of glass big and small rained down in the room, and Beauty lay on the wood floor not moving. Darling wanted to crawl over to her but was afraid to move. She heard another pop and saw the plaster split where the bullet lodged in the wall. Was someone actually trying to kill her?

  Chapter 34

  Ross barreled through the double doors of the study, sprinting barefoot over broken glass before dropping down on his knees by her side. His voice shook. “Are you hurt? Anything hit you?” He ran his hands up and down her arms and legs and through her hair, not believing she was okay. “Jesus, baby, answer me. Are you okay?”

  She gulped in a deep breath of air and nodded her head slowly. She struggled up onto her knees and shook a pointed finger toward Beauty Belle. “I’m okay, just scared. But I think Beauty Belle might be dead.” Her voice broke, and she started to shake. Ross pulled her into his arms, murmuring sweet words of comfort in her ear. After far too short a time, he stood away from her.

  “Baby, stay here. Let me just make sure there’s nobody out there, and then I’ll check Beauty Belle.”

  “No, just stay with me, let’s call the police.” Ross moved to step away from her. “Please, Ross, what if the gunman is still out there?” she whispered.

  “You stay away from the open windows. Stay down.” Ross took a few steps, leaving bloody footprints as he made his way out onto the deck. She was terrified for him, her heart practically beating out of her chest. Please let them be gone. Please let them be gone.

  Ross stepped beyond her line of sight. She began frantically counting the seconds, afraid of hearing another gunshot at any moment. It seemed like an eternity before he came around again and returned back through the shattered patio doors. He shook his head. “I didn’t see anybody, but it’s gotten damn dark. You call the cops. I’ll check on Beauty Belle. As soon as we can, we are getting the hell out of here.”

  Darling scrambled to the kitchen phone to call the police. For her own safety, she needed to get away from the lake house. She dialed 911 and spoke rapidly to the dispatcher. “Send the police right away. Someone just shot severa
l rounds through my house.” The efficient officer took down her address and asked if anyone was injured. “The dog I’m housesitting was hit, but I don’t know how bad. No one else. The shooter could still be out there, please hurry.” She hung up the phone and joined Ross back in the glass-covered living room.

  He was pushing his rolled up T-shirt against the Golden Retriever’s side. Darling could see the blood spreading across the fabric. “How bad is it?”

  “I’ve seen worse on the ranch. If I can get the blood to stop and get her to a good vet, hopefully she’ll make it.” He lifted her lip, exposing her pale gums, and frowned. “It looks like she got hit with one bullet and got some glass shards sprayed into her. She’s unconscious, probably in shock by the color of her gums and erratic heart rate, but she’s breathing.”

  Darling bent down and ran her hands through Beauty Belle’s soft fur. She brushed a loose piece of glass from the dog’s coat. “Poor girl, she must’ve seen or heard somebody out there and was barking in warning.” Darling’s eyes watered up, and she sniffled a bit. “The police are on the way. They’ll be here any second. I’m going to call the animal emergency clinic and see if we can get one of them to come here. I have a feeling the police are gonna want to take statements and not let us go.” Darling returned to the phone and checked the refrigerator magnet from the animal emergency clinic for the number. She explained the situation to the receptionist, who kept insisting that the veterinarian on duty couldn’t come there. She needed to bring Beauty to the office. She covered the receiver to update Ross.

  He shook his head. “Tell them it’s five hundred dollars cash to get their asses over here and take a look at this dog; otherwise they’re just a blister after the work’s done.” Within seconds of overhearing Ross’ offer, the receptionist changed her tune completely, and a veterinarian and veterinary technician were immediately dispatched. She hung up the phone, the wail of police sirens roaring in the distance. She ran to get some towels and some washcloths soaked in warm water. Ross needed to get the glass and dirt cleaned from his scraped bare feet. Did he even realize that he was so cut up?