Sound of Heartache ( Sound of Book 2)

by Roy, Chelsea

  “It just wasn’t the right time Brent,” Aimee told him softly. She glanced at his hands again and then took a step toward him. Or maybe it was toward the door he was still blocking. He wasn’t really sure what she was intending to do, but he knew touching her would be bad. Bad for them both.

  “Why is it the right time now? Why show up ten fucking years later?” Brent hated the vulnerability in his voice. He hated how it cracked and shook. He had given this woman absolute power over him once before and had nothing but heartache to show for it. He didn’t want to go down that particular road again, ever.

  “Because I knew you were ready.” Aimee told him, and stepped so close their chests were almost touching. He could feel the heat coming off her body, smell the light scent of her perfume.

  Up close he could see the passage of years. She was more beautiful than ever, age giving character to the woman’s features that the girl’s face had lacked. Her brown eyes were artfully lined and the lids bore traces of shimmery eye shadow. When they’d dated, she never wore any makeup and Brent had enjoyed her effortless natural look. This woman, though… She knew how to wear it without looking overdone.

  “You knew I was ready for what?” He ground out. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but dammit, she was really screwing with his head. Aimee blew out a breath and tentatively reached out and tugged his calloused hand into hers. Clasping his hand in both of hers, she stared into his eyes and smiled tremulously.

  “You’re ready to meet Brenna.” And with Aimee’s words, Brent felt the world come to a screeching halt around him. He had a daughter.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Aimee’s heart lurched sickeningly in her chest. She was so anxious she probably could have downed several Xanax and remained standing. She felt awful for springing this on Brent but there was no easy way to tell him about his daughter. She was concerned, though, about his pasty white complexion and the wheezing sounds coming from his chest. He didn’t protest as she led him to the velvet sofa and pushed him into it.

  Her bravado running out and her legs shaking badly from the adrenaline rush, she sank down next to him on the sofa. Brent’s entire body stiffened and he shifted away from her. She drew in a painful breath. It wasn’t like she had expected an open-armed welcome, but his distance from her was painful.

  In the relative quiet of the dressing room, she realized that sitting next to Brent was surreal. She had pictured their reunion so many times over the years it was hard to distinguish her fantasies from reality. Thanks to the invasive news media, her fantasies had always been very realistic, down to the eyeliner he’d gotten tattooed on at some point. She had memorized how he’d aged, what he looked like, and God help her, even who he’d dated. She hadn’t stopped waiting for the right time to come to him and she knew she needed to find a way to explain her words to him.

  “Will you hear me out?” She asked him quietly. She prayed he wanted to know what happened to her and their baby, or at least was curious enough to find out what had become of them.

  “Do I have a choice?” He mumbled, his head dropping into his hands. His body shuddered next to her and she wanted desperately to put her arms around him.

  “You can tell me to go.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t send her away.

  “No. I need to know.” His words were muffled. “I need to understand how you could do this to me.” His pain was there in his voice, sharp, and it jabbed at her. She deserved every bit of his anger and more.

  “When my mother took me away from you, I was right about what they would do. They put me in an institution. Filed papers claiming they needed authority over the baby because, as a minor, I wasn’t competent. They planned to take her away.” Ten years had passed since that God-awful summer but Aimee hadn’t forgotten a moment of it. Hadn’t forgotten the drugs they shoved down her throat to quiet her, hadn’t forgotten her fear that her parents would succeed.

  “What happened?” Brent’s gaze lifted to hers and Aimee was blown away to see tears standing in his emerald green eyes.

  “You saved me.” Aimee told him sincerely. She stopped fighting her impulses and leaned toward him. She couldn’t not be near him.

  “How the hell did I do that? I let you go!” His voice was tortured. Aimee grabbed his hand and linked her fingers through his.

  “No, Brent. No.” She squeezed his hand tightly.

  “I should’ve fought your mom. I should’ve done anything but let you get into that car and leave me.” Aimee brought his clenched fist to her mouth and kissed the knuckles, trying to stem the tears that were determined to fall.

  “The first few days were bad. They kept me pretty sedated because they considered me dangerous. After I’d been there about a week, they figured I had calmed down enough, so once a day I was allowed to walk the grounds. It was my free time. At first, the walks were supervised.” Aimee took a deep breath and blew it out. Reciting this was difficult. Living through it had been impossible. “After a month had gone by, they were pretty lax with me. They didn’t think I was going anywhere. I was pretty huge and wobbly. The supervised walks stopped. I was allowed to go alone. And who expects an eight-month pregnant girl to climb a wall? Nobody. But I did.”

  Aimee could recall the day she’d escaped from that awful facility with perfect clarity. She had planned so carefully and had waited until the fourth of July rolled around. Everyone had been distracted that day. Some were gone, spending the day with their families. Those who were working seemed resentful to be there. Aimee had slipped out for her daily walk at the same time she had done every other day. Without hesitation she had made her way to the fence that surrounded the facility. Heart in her throat, she had climbed over the eight foot wall with little more than help from tree branches and a grim determination to keep her baby. Dropping down to the other side had been a little more problematic, but once she was out of that awful facility, she hadn’t looked back as she walked off down the street.

  Because of the holiday, Aimee had spent the night holed up in the doorway of a brick building. It was a calculated risk, but one that had paid off. When the banks opened the following day, Brent’s bank account had been there waiting for her. That money had been a life-saver. Or Brenna’s life, as it were.

  She finished telling her story and looked at Brent to gauge his reaction. He looked sick to his stomach and his hand was clenching rhythmically in hers. She doubted he even knew he was doing it. “When…” Brent stopped. He cleared his throat. “When was Brenna born?”

  Aimee smiled hugely. “She’s always been a good girl. Always.” Brent gave a pained chuckle.

  “So I take it she waited until after your eighteenth birthday.” Like her, Brent had been focused on getting Aimee to the goal line. He’d memorized the dates just as firmly as she had.

  “She did indeed. She was a whole week late and came on July twenty-fifth. I’m probably the only mom in the world who wanted their baby to be late.” They both chuckled a little, their eyes watery. Aimee couldn’t tell how Brent was processing the information but he wasn’t kicking her out so that had to be a good sign. They were sitting in relatively companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, when the door to the dressing room blew open. Aimee gasped at the unexpected intrusion, but just as quickly relaxed when she saw Eric fly through the door. Eric came to a sudden halt when he saw her and Brent sitting together on the couch, hands clasped.

  “Damn.” He said. He pushed his hand through his styled blond hair. Aimee was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “Damn, girl, it’s so good to see you!”

  Eric quickly closed the remaining distance between them and pulled Aimee up, breaking her connection to Brent. Gathering her into his arms, he squeezed the hell out of her. Something that sounded suspiciously like a sob broke from him. Aimee rubbed Eric’s back in big circles, trying to sooth him.

  “It’s so good to see you too, Eric,” she whispered tightly into his shoulder. And it was. He had been such an important part of her life. He still smelled
like the Eric she remembered, faintly spicy and outdoorsy all at the same time. She had spent plenty of time curled up next to him on the couch watching movies and the smell of him reminded her of happy times.

  “Still don’t like it asshole,” Brent growled at him and the three of them laughed, breaking the tension in the room. Eric cradled her face in his hands and searched her eyes. Whatever he saw there caused him to lean forward and plant a sweetly gentle kiss on her lips. When he drew back, Aimee’s fingers pressed against the spot where his lips had been. That had not felt like a brotherly kiss. She opened her mouth to question him but before she could say anything, Eric grinned his teasing smile at her and broke the oddly tense moment.

  “Too fucking bad!” He taunted Brent. He slung his arm around Aimee’s shoulder. Brent stood up from the ugly velvet sofa and looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make it a group hug or if he wanted to punch Eric. Before he could do either, the rest of the band members and a gorgeous, curvy blonde woman crowded in the doorway of the dressing room. Aimee felt every eye on the room fall on her and she shrank into Eric’s protective embrace. She didn’t want to be judged by these people because they were important to Brent, but she was afraid they were doing just that. She felt Brent’s body heat as he stepped in closely to her other side and she blew out a deep breath. She could do this.

  “I fuckin’ remember you!” Jack growled out. Aimee shivered, an involuntary reaction. Jack quite possibly had the sexiest voice she had ever heard. She imagined there wasn’t a female alive who was immune to his growl. Probably a fair share of men as well. The gorgeous blonde elbowed him sharply in the ribs and hissed something only Jack could hear. She then smiled apologetically at Aimee and Aimee smiled back, trying hard not to be intimidated. She wasn’t sure what the other band members knew about her but they didn’t look overly hostile toward her.

  “We did meet once,” Aimee acknowledged. Jack waved his hand, dismissing her words.

  “You gave the band its name, you know.” He told her. Aimee’s eyebrow rose up. He gave her a lopsided grin.

  “I did?” She asked him, surprised. She didn’t know how it was possible for her to have played any part in naming the band. They’d met all of one time when he’d helped Brent and Eric defend her in a bar fight.

  “Hell yes you did. You told us at the bar, after we finished cleaning up those motherfuckers, ‘you sure cause a lot of destruction’.” Jack sounded smug. “It was the perfect name for us.”

  Aimee didn’t remember making that comment, but from the look on the other guys’ faces, she must have because they seemed to agree with Jack.

  “I’m flattered,” she said softly. She had always wished she had some kind of influence on the band since she was present at their very first meeting and it seemed as though she had, even if she hadn’t been aware of it.

  “You’re coming out with us tonight, right?” Jack asked her, although the way he said it made it clear he wasn’t going to take a refusal.

  Aimee knew why Jack made a perfect front man for the band. He was sexy as hell, intense, and determined to have his way. Still, Aimee wasn’t going to blindly agree to anything without making sure she was welcome. She glanced at Brent, who gave her a small nod of agreement. Brenna was staying the weekend with a friend, so Aimee didn’t have to rush home. She was dying to learn what Brent was like now and hanging out with these guys would put him in his element. She’d be able to tell whether he was still a good guy at heart or if fame had changed him for the worse. For a few years she hadn’t been sure the Brent she knew was still there. There were rumors of drinking and drugs and Aimee had worried he wouldn’t pull out of it.

  Before she could respond, Jack spoke again. “Els could use another woman on the scene besides the damn groupies that seem to trail us everywhere,” Jack told her. The woman stepped forward and offered her hand to Aimee.

  “I’m Jack’s Ellie.” Aimee had seen Ellie in the tabloids, so she was well aware of who she was and what she meant to Destruction’s front man. Aimee could only imagine how hard it was to deal with groupies on a daily basis and admired Ellie for seeming to handle Jack’s fame with grace.

  “You just had a baby. Congratulations.” Aimee offered as she shook Ellie’s hand. Ellie looked at her appraisingly and Aimee realized most conversations with Ellie probably didn’t lead off with comments on her baby. “I’m a pediatrician,” she added inanely, and then cursed herself for her stupidity.

  “Thank you. He’s adorable and I’m deeply in love.” Ellie’s voice softened as she spoke about her baby and she blindly reached back, visibly relaxing when Jack threaded his fingers through hers.

  “I know a little something about that.” Aimee told her softly. Ellie nodded, not smiling but not judging either.

  “I had a feeling you might,” was all she said. Aimee glanced at Jack again. His gaze was focused on Ellie and the look on his face was painfully intimate. He clearly adored this woman.

  Aimee had to clear her voice to loosen the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’d love to come out with the band tonight.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Aimee had lived in Vegas for just short of three years. She’d moved after accepting a job with a local pediatric clinic. During her stay in Vegas she’d never had an occasion to go clubbing. Her work schedule and Brenna’s activities just didn’t allow for much of a social life and Aimee was pretty okay with that. The club scene had never been all that interesting to her in the first place so she never felt like she was missing out. Now, staring down at the pulsing throng of people below her, Aimee felt like she’d been dropped into someone else’s life.

  The band had left the concert venue in an absurdly long stretch limo. The vibe among the guys was celebratory. They were all talking, their hands waving around, and trying to distinguish one conversation from another was impossible. It was clear the guys were pumped and needed an outlet. Aimee was amazed they had so much energy because they’d just finished hopping around a hot stage for two hours.

  When they pulled up at the Venetian hotel, Aimee realized they were headed in to party at Tao. Even in Vegas where everything happened, Tao was famous for their red carpet celebrity arrivals and skyboxes that sat atop the nightclub floor. Even though Aimee was dressed in a daringly short pair of shorts and a cute shirt, she worried about walking the red carpet under a microscope and being found lacking. Her hands shook with nerves and she tugged at the tips of her hair, spinning the long tresses in a circle around her finger. She hated feeling out of her element, but to be a part of Brent’s life, she was going to have to learn to deal.

  Brent glanced over at her and gently disentangled her finger from her hair. He laced his fingers through her own and swept his thumb over the back of her hand. Aimee’s breathing calmed and she was able to walk down the red carpet with a smidgeon of self-confidence. The band had a sky box, of course, and they were ushered in like royalty. Aimee had never been on the receiving end of such lavish treatment but from the nonchalant way everyone else was reacting, it was clearly part of the norm for them.

  Sitting in a plush oversized chair next to Brent, Aimee wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Brent’s weight was warm next to her, grounding her. His jeans-clad thigh pressed tightly up against hers in the chair and she was very aware of every movement he made. She fidgeted, feeling embarrassingly aroused.

  “You want to go dance?” Brent asked her, taking a long drink from the bottle of water gripped in his lean fingers. She’d been surprised when he hadn’t ordered alcohol like the rest of the guys. She had ordered her all-time favorite, a sweet-tart Midori Sour, and was halfway through the drink. She hated using liquor to bolster her courage but sometimes there was no way around it.

  “Do you not drink at all?” She asked him curiously. She had read tabloid after tabloid about his ugly descent into drugs and alcohol but there hadn’t been anything in the news recently. Aimee had taken the lack of articles as a sign that Brent had cleaned up
his act.

  “I do, some. Beer mostly. I’m not drinking tonight because I don’t want to miss or forget a single second of it.” Brent’s words surprised Aimee and caused a flutter deep in her belly. She knew he was invested in getting reacquainted; she just wasn’t sure how far their new relationship was going to extend. She couldn’t deny she wanted to take it pretty damn far.

  “Won’t you get mobbed if we go down there?” Aimee looked down at the hundreds, maybe thousands, of people crowded on the darkened dance floor. She loved to dance but didn’t get to do it with adults very often. Brenna was in dance and Aimee practiced the group routines with her all the time. Dancing with a nine year old was vastly different than dancing with a man she found to be compellingly attractive, though.

  “Nah. It’s one of the reasons we love coming to Tao. The floor is so dark nobody can tell who we are once we get down there.” Aimee glanced down at the crowd again. It was pretty dark down there. Making up her mind to be brave a second time that night, she stood and tugged Brent’s hand.

  “You’re on.” She said, smiling shakily. She couldn’t imagine being in Brent’s arms again and having his body pressed against hers. Dancing with him would test the limits of her restraint. The last couple of hours had been hard enough, being near Brent without touching him like a girlfriend or wife would. She felt so much for him she was having a hard time containing it and pressing her body against his on the dance floor wouldn’t make things any easier for her.

  Brent expertly led Aimee down into the press of bodies. He obviously knew the way from his previous times at the club and Aimee was content to let him lead. He kept a firm grasp on her arm so they wouldn’t get separated. Aimee was glad because if they did lose each other, there was no way they’d be able to reconnect without heading back to the sky box and she really did want to dance with Brent.