Sound of Heartache ( Sound of Book 2)

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Sound of Heartache ( Sound of Book 2) Page 8

by Roy, Chelsea


  “Aimee?” He called.

  “In here.” Her voice was muffled through the walls, but Brent could tell she was in their room. When he walked down the hall, he was surprised to see their door closed. Aimee didn’t usually close it unless they were going to bed for the night and it was barely eight o’clock. He pushed the door open and his heart stuttered in his chest.

  Candles were lit on every surface of the room, giving it a soft glow. Some of them must’ve been scented because a lightly spiced scent filled the air. Aimee sat on her knees in the middle of their bed, some sort of sheer nighty floating around her.

  “Christ,” he’d croaked. His dick was instantly hard. Although he and Aimee were still having sex, it had tapered off considerably the more awkward she felt.

  “Is this okay?” She had asked him hesitantly. Her hands rose to rub her belly. “I know this isn’t the most sexy thing, but it’s what I’ve got to work with.” Her beautiful lips turned up into a shy smile that sent any remaining blood southward.

  “More than,” he’d reassured her, coming to his senses. He shut the door behind him and locked it. They were alone in the apartment, but there was no telling when Eric would be back home. Brent didn’t plan on any interruptions.

  “I want to try something,” Aimee told him, after he’d stripped down and knelt on the bed in front of her. His erection was red and swollen, the tip leaking pre-cum. With both of them on their knees, he hovered above Aimee and could see the ripe swells of her breasts spilling out of her nightie. It was sheer enough that her nipples, darker with pregnancy, were clearly visible.

  “Yes. Whatever it is. Yes.” Brent would’ve agreed to anything. He didn’t care, he just wanted Aimee.

  “Can I ride you?” She’d asked him hesitantly. “There aren’t a lot of positions that work for us right now and that’s one we haven’t tried yet.”

  Wordlessly, Brent had maneuvered their bodies so that he was pressed up against the headboard at an angle. He wasn’t completely flat on his back which meant he could still kiss Aimee. After straddling him, he’d been thrilled to find out she wasn’t wearing any panties with the sheer gown. She’d been wet for him and it hadn’t taken much work until she was panting against his fingers.

  Once he was comfortable that Aimee was ready, he’d speared his hips up, thrusting into her tight heat. Her head had fallen back and she’d cried out, loudly. Having the tips of her hair brush against his thighs was incredibly erotic and had ratcheted up Brent’s arousal. His hands grabbed onto Aimee’s hips and instead of an up and down motion, he’d rocked her back and forth so her clit rubbed against his pubic bone. It seemed to only take minutes before she’d tightened down on him and came, panting his name. After that, he’d slammed his hips up against hers once, twice, and then a third time before he was emptying himself into her.

  Brent jolted back into the present when Aimee pinched him. “I can feel that against my hip you know,” she told him, laughing.

  He laughed too. “I can’t help it. Last night was incredible. Thank you.” She just shook her head at him and allowed herself to be pulled back onto the sidewalk. He kept his arm wrapped around her.

  “What do you want to do tonight? Want to go out to celebrate now that finals are over?” Aimee was smiling up at him sweetly and Brent felt such a strong surge of love for her that his breath caught. He pulled her up against his side and waggled his eyebrows lecherously at her.

  “How about we stay in?” He suggested, purposely leering at her.

  “I suggest you remove your hands from my daughter.” The voice was female and colder than winter in Antarctica. Brent immediately wrapped himself protectively around Aimee and pulled her tighter to him. He was trying, with little success, to shield her belly from the tall well-dressed woman glaring at him. Given the striking physical resemblance to Aimee, he guessed this was her mother.

  Aimee’s body tried to swing around but Brent’s arms tightened around her further. Aimee seemed to realize what he was trying to do and buried into him while glancing over her shoulder at the woman.

  “Mom, this is my boyfriend Brent. You don’t need to talk to him like that.” Aimee stated calmly. Brent could feel her trembling against him and knew this was bad. Epically bad. He didn’t know how she managed to keep her voice so even.

  “I do when his hands are all over my underage daughter.” Brent flinched at the venom in Aimee’s mother’s voice. Clearly, though their looks were similar, Aimee and her mother were two very different people. Brent had never heard Aimee talk to anyone like that nor did he think she would ever.

  Aimee pressed a kiss against his neck and then turned in his hold to face her mother. The gasp the woman emitted was shockingly loud when she spied Aimee’s pregnant belly.

  “Brent is going to be around a while,” Aimee told her mother. “It would be good to get to know him.” Her voice continued to remain even but Brent knew this was a show of bravado and nothing more. He suddenly realized she was terrified of this woman.

  “He won’t be around at all,” her mother hissed at Aimee, taking a step forward. “Get in the car.” Brent noticed a large Mercedes idling at the curb and wasn’t sure how he’d missed it.

  “Mother, no.” This time there was no mistaking the fear in Aimee’s voice. Her hands were sweating and cold at the same time and he gripped her fingers tightly.

  “Mrs. Lansing, Aimee plans to stay here through the summer. She has a doctor established already. I think we should sit down and discuss this rationally or you should leave. It’s not good for Aimee to be upset.” Brent tried to keep his own voice level but it was damn hard. He hated this woman for frightening Aimee.

  “And I think you should step away from my daughter before I have you arrested for statutory rape. I’ve got the proof right in front of me.” The woman’s voice remained icy, her words igniting Brent’s fury.

  “Arrest me, then. Aimee and our daughter are worth it. I’ll make bail and by the time it goes to trial, Aimee will be over eighteen.” Brent was no slouch when it came to the legal system. Since Aimee had told him months ago her parents would react in just this way, he’d brushed up laws relevant to the issue. He wasn’t coming into this fight unprepared.

  “Yes but by the time you make bail, Aimee will be long gone and you will never see her again. And that’s the way it will happen young man. The only difference is if you do it with or without an arrest record.” Brent’s stomach dropped and panic began to set in. The woman was talking about forcibly removing Aimee from him.

  “Mom, please.” Aimee implored the woman brokenly. Brent hated hearing the defeat in her voice, hated having to beg this unforgiving woman for anything.

  “Aimee, no!” Brent whispered harshly. He had a sick feeling he knew what was about to happen.

  “Aimee, you’ve left me no choice.” Brent watched as her mother calmly removed her cell phone from her purse. Aimee turned in his arms and placed her hands on his cheeks, caressing the three day old stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave because of finals. Tears were rolling silently down her cheeks.

  “You need to let me go right now.” Aimee whispered urgently. “I’ll protect our baby and find my way back to you. I’ve got the money in the account you opened for me. I’ll figure out a way to do this. Trust me.” She implored him. He and Aimee had tried to consider every angle they might need and they finally figured the best he could do was open a bank account with her as a beneficiary so if she ever needed funds, she would have some available. There wasn’t a huge amount in there, but enough to get by on.

  Brent was shaking his head at her, his gut rolling. Everything in him screamed not to let Aimee go. “No, Aimee. What if your gamble doesn’t pay off? What if they take the baby?” He couldn’t bear to lose the baby and knew it would devastate Aimee for the rest of her life if she was forced to give their baby up.

  “Trust me,” she reiterated, her face awash with tears. “Please.” Her voice broke on the last word and Brent yanked her into a hu
g.

  “Aimee, now. Or I call the police.” Brent burned inside with fury toward this cold, unfeeling woman who was, in his mind, kidnapping her daughter. Sniffling, Aimee pulled back from him and dug into her backpack for her keys. She handed them to him, her hand shaking so badly she almost dropped them to the ground.

  “Get my stuff for me?” She asked. He nodded. He knew her parents would stop funding the apartment immediately and if Aimee was able to make her way back, she’d be living with him. She would want familiar things around her.

  “I love you.” He told her, desperate for her to hear it one more time. She squeezed his hands gently and began backing away from him. Brent’s body was vibrating with the need to reach out to her, to anchor her to him.

  “I love you, too.” She told him, before turning toward the car sitting at the curb. Brent watched in stunned disbelief as Aimee got into the car with her mother and it pulled smoothly away from the curb.

  PART TWO – REVELATIONS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Brent strode off stage and handed one of the roadies his guitar. Most of the time he actually cared what happened to his equipment, but today he couldn’t seem to work up the energy. His mind was completely focused on what was waiting for him backstage. Keeping his shit together long enough to finish out the performance had been hard enough. Nothing mattered now except seeing Aimee.

  He strode down the semi-dark hallway. He knew the look on his face was less than friendly when staffers began stepping out of his way. Memories of the last time he’d seen Aimee were flashing through his mind like they were movie clips on a reel. His body seemed to relax upon itself when Mac finally came into sight, standing sentry at his dressing room door.

  “She in there?” He asked his friend. Mac nodded.

  “She didn’t give me any trouble. It was almost like she was expecting it, you know? It was weird.” Brent nodded. Aimee would’ve been expecting it. Mac didn’t know the whole story and Brent wasn’t ready to lay it bare. “Anyway, she’s been in there about half an hour,” Mac told him.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate your help. I’ve got it from here.” Brent clasped the larger man on the shoulder, thankful Mac worked for Destruction. He’d hate to be on the dude’s bad side.

  “No worries. Have a good night.” Mac clasped him back but it felt more like a forceful shove. If Brent hadn’t been used to Mac’s overpowering ways, he would’ve gone flying through the door.

  Brent reached for the door and realized his hand was shaking. His heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chest and he realized he hadn’t been this nervous in… well… ever. He slowly pushed the door open, stepped into the room and closed the door, leaning his body up against it. His eyes swung around the brightly lit room searching for Aimee and he almost slumped in relief when he saw her sitting on the velvety sofa. Aimee’s eyes were trained on him and they stared at him hungrily.

  Christ, Eric had been right. About it all. Her shorts were damn short and from the way she was sitting he could see miles of long leg and hardly any of the denim. He pressed his back harder against the door so he didn’t immediately leap onto her and took his time sweeping his eyes over her. He didn’t feel badly for it; she was just as busy looking just as hard at him. He struggled with what to say to this woman who had held his heart for so many years. He didn’t know how to vocalize even one of the million questions he had zinging through his head.

  “So…” he finally settled on, and felt like palming his face in his brilliance. After ten years of searching for her, missing her, and this was what he came up with?

  His voice seemed to break some sort of invisible spell over Aimee and she shot to her feet, twisting her hands in front of her. “Hi Brent,” she said, a small smile curving her beautiful lips.

  “You took the money.” He said. God, this was a disaster in the making. He really had no idea how to be coherent with what he wanted to say to her. Brent knew everything would come out a jumbled mess unless he could pull it together.

  “What money?” She asked, confusion drawn on her pretty face.

  “The money I saved aside for you and the baby. I kept checking that account, and kept adding to it because you were using it. And you kept withdrawing it, but never from the same place.” This had been one of the most frustrating things to him. She had been withdrawing money from an account he had set up, but the withdrawals had come from all over the country. There had never been any rhyme or reason to the withdrawals and it had taken him a long time to realize that and stop searching each town they’d occurred in.

  “I did. You paid for my college,” she confessed softly.

  Brent reared back, floored. As he’d become more successful, he made sure the deposits had continued and he had increased the amount he set aside for Aimee. Those deposits had been his only connection to her and he’d been hesitant to break it. He had always known that Aimee would only take the money if she truly needed it so he never questioned the legitimacy of any of the withdrawals.

  He took a hesitant step toward her. She held her ground and regarded him steadily, her brown eyes soft and familiar. His heart ached with the knowledge of everything that had happened in his life between now and the last time he’d seen her. It felt like a chasm too wide to cross.

  “But you stopped taking money out about three years ago. I’ve kept adding money in, but you haven’t taken any out. Why?” This question was uppermost on his mind, aside from the very obvious elephant in the room. But he wasn’t ready to ask about their baby yet so he would talk about the money and why she’d stopped taking it. When the withdrawals had stopped, he had been frantic. It had taken Eric weeks to reassure Brent that Aimee was okay. He was irrationally angry at her for causing him to panic about her well-being yet again. Sometimes he felt like the only thing he’d done over the past decade was worry about Aimee.

  “I finished school. Once I was done, I didn’t want to take anything else from you. I hated using the money in the first place because it wasn’t fair to you.” She sounded regretful.

  “I worried about you again when you stopped,” he admitted hoarsely. Aimee’s mouth turned down and she twisted her hands together.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said softly. Brent took another step forward and Aimee’s only reaction was a slight widening of her beautiful eyes.

  “Did you finish med school?” He asked her, hoping she had gotten to see her dream through in spite of everything. She’d had such a passion for it and was crazy good with science. Aimee’s face softened and a true smile lit up her face. Brent caught his breath. Aimee at seventeen had been beautiful. Aimee at twenty-seven was breathtaking.

  “I did. I’m a pediatrician. It’s not glamorous like a surgeon or anything, but I love it.” Brent could hear the sincerity in her voice and he was deeply, fiercely glad it was him who had financed her dream. He always intended it to be that way; he just had imagined them together while he made it happen for her. Still, it was damn good to hear she had done it.

  “The band Eric and I started practicing with turned out to be successful.” He told her, quirking his lips. He remembered their big fight over banning her from their first gig and his smile grew. She laughed a little, sounding relieved, and he knew he needed to drop the subject of the money.

  “I’ll say. I always wished I got to see you guys play when you first started up but between school and…” she paused and swallowed loudly, “everything else going on, it just wasn’t meant to be. I’ve always regretted that.”

  Brent nodded at her, knowing she did regret it. They wouldn’t have fought so fiercely about it when she was pregnant if it hadn’t been important to her. Still, it seemed like Aimee was going to ignore the giant pink-colored elephant in the room. Because of her continued avoidance, his gut pitched and churned over the different possibilities. The Aimee he knew faced things head on.

  “You’re here today.” He said, more of a question than a statement. Aimee nodded and her head dropped down, hiding her eyes from h
im. He was standing close enough to see that her pulse was thudding rapidly in her neck.

  “I am here today.” Her hands twisted once again. This was a new nervous gesture, one he hadn’t seen before. Part of the adult version of Aimee, a person he didn’t yet know. “I’ve had tickets for quite a while. Once your tour dates were announced I knew I had to come.”

  “You’ve followed my career, then?” He asked. He didn’t know why it was more painful to him to hear her say she’d followed him than finding out Aimee she hadn’t. He supposed it brought home the fact that she could have reached out to him at any time and had chosen not to. What he didn’t understand was why she hadn’t. Had she not loved him?

  “I have. At first there wasn’t a lot to go on. San Diego local news mostly. But you guys gained notoriety pretty quickly after the first year.” Aimee was looking everywhere around the dressing room but at him and Brent felt himself getting angry at her again. She was setting some kind of record with him, pinging all of his triggers, because he was never really angry with anyone.

  “So you knew where I was. You could’ve come back,” he accused bitterly. He wasn’t surprised when Aimee nodded, admitting she had chosen to stay away. She wasn’t going to avoid her own part in this mess and she’d never been a liar. That wasn’t her style, or at least it hadn’t been. Hell, he didn’t know her now at all. Not really. He only knew the girl she’d been such a long time ago.

  Brent was having trouble breathing, he was so angry. Knowing he had loved her and looked for her while she had avoided him hurt like a mother fucker. His fists clenched at his sides and he saw her gaze flicker to them. She stiffened her shoulders, and met his eyes. He forced himself to relax. No matter how angry he was, he would never hit her. Ever. The wall, maybe. But not her.

 

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