Wait (Bleeding Stars #4)

by A. L. Jackson

  My stomach soured, but I forced it down. “What’d he say?”

  Bewildered, her brow pinched, and she chewed at her lip. “That he knows what I did. Asked me if I thought he wouldn’t find out.” Everything began to leave her on a desperate rush. “I don’t know what he was talking about. How he found me.”

  Her face was suddenly back in my neck, the words mumbled at my skin. “But I’m terrified that he does.”

  Knows what she did?

  That thought spun around me before it sunk in like toxic waste.

  He thought it was her.

  Shit.

  He thought Edie was responsible.

  How did I always manage to fuck everything up?

  Every good intention gone bad.

  I wouldn’t let it.

  Not again.

  My mouth was at her ear, my own desperation falling from my lips while I made a million silent promises.

  I won’t let him hurt you.

  I’ll protect you.

  Keep you safe.

  “What did you tell him, baby?”

  Her head shook against my chest. “Nothing. I didn’t reply.” I wanted to scream. Tear out my hair.

  Instead I let the bitterness free. “I’ll kill him, Edie. I’ll kill him before I ever let him touch you again.”

  I felt her shake under my promise. I was quick to corral the fury. She was here for me to support her, not watch me come unglued.

  Same as I’d done that night.

  “I just want it to be over. For him to leave me alone. I don’t understand what he wants from me.”

  All the bullshit that marked our lives seemed piled around us. Promising to snuff out life and light.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Edie. I won’t.”

  She turned her head, her mouth pressed to my side. “I believe you.”

  Silence stretched between us. Baited and bottled with all the questions left unanswered.

  “Do your dreams still come?” she finally whispered.

  Opening up.

  Taking us back to where it all began.

  I ran my hand over the top of her head, cupping her neck.

  How was it possible that after that asshole contacted her tonight, she was turning her concern back to me?

  “Think they’ll always haunt me,” I admitted. “Do yours?”

  I already knew the answer. But I wanted to climb into the center of that fragile heart. The strength holding it together.

  Fingertips tapped across my chest like a tentative tune.

  “Almost every night. I wake up and feel so alone. Empty.”

  I edged back so I could read her face. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, fighting the moisture glistening in her eyes. I brushed my thumb along her jaw, encouraging her to continue.

  Her admission quieted like a secret. “I wake up floundering. Lost. Feeling so desperate to fill the void. To cover the ache. And absolutely terrified to take the chance ever again.”

  She swallowed around the tight emotion. “They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. I want to agree, Austin. I want to believe. I’m just not sure I know how.”

  Old insecurities wound me up like an antique clock. “Do you…”

  God. Seemed I’d lost the capacity to even speak. To go back to that time. Seventeen. Stupid and naïve. Still knowing with all of me I’d finally found what I’d been missing. The question was raw. “Do you still have it?”

  A sad smile graced her sweet mouth, and she gave me the softest nod.

  I swallowed hard. “Did you think of me?”

  Her reply was so quiet, so timid, I felt it rather than heard it. “Always. How could I ever forget you?”

  Affection pushed at my ribs, and I held her a little closer as I offered my own confession. “Won’t ever forget the day Ash brought you to the house…saying you were going to be staying with us for the summer while Sunder was on break from touring.”

  Sunder had just made it big, and my brother and the boys had gone and bought a mansion in Hollywood Hills, moving us from that shithole house into a luxury none of us had been accustomed to.

  My fingertips played through strands of her hair as I mused. “I remembered seeing you as a kid…but you’d been gone for so long. And there you were, the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. Looking so shy and unsure.”

  Wistful laughter rumbled in my chest. “And me? I could barely look your way, I was so lost. But then that night, I heard you crying. I was terrified, really. Looking around my dark room and wondering what the fuck to do. Had no idea how to deal with whatever you were going through. But still, I knew I was supposed to be there. That you needed me.”

  I blinked into the shadowy darkness of my room, the girl’s heart beating with mine. For a few moments calmed in this never-ending frenzy. “Crazy…I grabbed that catcher, not really thinking it through. But it was like instinct. The first thing that popped into my head.”

  Edie caressed those soft fingers up the hollow of my throat. Making me tremble. Soothing and provoking.

  I squeezed her tighter. “My grandma gave that to me, Edie. When I was eight. Couple of months after we lost Julian.”

  Lost.

  What bullshit.

  Grief balled at the center of my chest. “Other than Baz, she was the only one who’d recognized I was dyin’ inside.”

  Exactly like I’d deserved.

  “She’d stayed with us for a while, and the day before she had to go home, she’d come to me in the middle of the night. She’d heard me crying. She’d pressed it into my palm, whispering it like it was the greatest secret, telling me to always keep it close. She told me it was peace and safety.”

  My lips pressed into her hair, praying she’d understand. “And that’s what I wanted it to be for you.”

  Of course, the truth was, that’s what I’d wanted to be for her.

  Peace and safety.

  Not her demise.

  Her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips, gaze darting down to where she fiddled with the collar of my tee, as if she needed a distraction. “That’s the way it’s always made me feel, Austin. Every time I hold it. When I’m missing and hurting and alone. I hold it and I think of you. The comfort you gave me. The hope.”

  Fuck. I had the impulse to weep.

  I was the one responsible for ripping it away.

  For taking that good thing and crushing it in my hands.

  “I should have been there all along, Edie. Making you feel safe. But I never forgot. Never stopped missing what we had.”

  “I missed you so much.” She muffled a sob in my shirt.

  I hugged her closer, making promises I really hoped I had the strength to keep. “It’s going to be okay. I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

  “How?” she whispered.

  “Together. We’ll be okay if we do it together.”

  “When I got here…were you still awake?”

  I hiked a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  She ran her fingers across my chest. Tenderly. “Why?”

  A quiet chuckle left me. Humorless. “Because I felt a lot of stuff tonight, Edie. Being with you. Thinking about my brother. I…” I hesitated, hating this part of myself, the part I didn’t know if I could ever snub out.

  The worthless.

  The fucked up.

  The one who destroyed every damned good thing he was given.

  “I…was having urges.”

  Edie stilled, then set her palm right in the middle of my chest. Filling me up with that unending belief.

  You are good. You are good. I feel it here.

  That’s what she used to tell me on those nights years ago when I thought I’d succumb to the darkness, the girl breathing her light into my black soul, her hand always so steady where it was pressed over my erratic heart.

  That spot would always belong to her.

  I drew in a shaky breath. “I didn’t give in, Edie. Can’t. Won’t. But I figured p
icking out a song on my guitar was a better way to exert that energy than anything else.”

  A tiny smile that was almost awed pulled at one side of her mouth. “I always wondered if you’d start to perform.” She set back to tracing her fingers across my chest. Lighting me up. The way she did.

  “God, I was so shocked when I first saw you on the stage at The Lighthouse. But I can’t say I was surprised. It just seemed…right.”

  “It’s weird…playing. The kind of songs I write and where I do it. Used to have this crazy fantasy that one day I’d be up on a stage at my brother’s side. Playing with him.”

  But that was nothing other than a fool’s game.

  “Maybe that’s where you’re supposed to be. Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

  “Back to L.A.? Maybe. Make things right with my brother for good. Let him know I’m okay so he can stop worrying about me once and for all. Otherwise? No. You know as well as I do I don’t belong there.”

  That kind of world wasn’t for me. The money and the fame and the lifestyle. People looking at you like you were something when you knew with everything you had you were nothing.

  Pretty sure the only thing I’d do was turn around and let Baz down all over again.

  Wasn’t about to let that happen.

  Not ever.

  “But I can’t escape the music either. For so long I felt like an outsider in Sunder’s world. I fought the need to play for a longed damned time. But music…I guess it’s a part of my soul.”

  “So you play in small, quiet places.” She said it as a statement. With understanding. With no judgement.

  “Sometimes we settle, Edie.”

  Sadness wove into her tone. “Yeah, sometimes we do.”

  My confession seemed to mix a whole new brand of confusion into our mess.

  “What about you, Edie? You ever going back?”

  The shake of her head was vehement. “No. Never. L.A.’s the last place I want to be. Not with Paul there. Especially now.”

  Remnants of her loss burned like a fiery storm in the middle of my darkened room.

  She inched closer, her admission murmured dangerously low.

  Ripe with shame.

  Loaded with disgrace.

  “I miss my brother. So much. Does…does he talk about me?”

  Felt like a landslide of jagged rocks gathered at the base of my throat. I swallowed around the razor-sharp edges. “Told you I haven’t been home in a long, long time. And when I was there, a ton of shit was going down, so I wasn’t exactly a part of easy conversation. Think you leaving like that hurt him. Confused him. The few times you were mentioned, it was him wondering how you could just take off.”

  Wasn’t going to lie to her.

  Hadn’t heard him mention her name all that much. And it was always offhanded and quick to be dropped.

  He was either the world’s most self-centered asshole, which I’m sure just about every chick he’d ever crossed paths with would attest to, or thinking about her just hurt him too damned bad.

  My stake was on the last.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she whispered in defeat.

  I blinked hard. “If he knew, Edie…he’d understand. I promise he’d understand.”

  But that was the biggest obstacle of all.

  Edie didn’t want anyone to know.

  She’d been shamed and convinced into thinking it was better that way.

  So instead, she ran, because it was impossible to keep your past from being brought out into the open.

  Her voice fluttered out like soft ribbons that spun me in warmth. “Thank you, Austin. You make everything better. You always have.”

  Soft and true.

  Blameless and pure.

  This angel girl whose only crime had been giving into one night of bad.

  I just didn’t know how to rid her of the shame.

  Convince her she was nothing less than a victim.

  She burrowed into me. Each breath I felt against my heart, and each innocent touch burned my skin in want.

  God I wanted her.

  But for now…

  For now…

  I’d simply hold her where she knew she’d be safe.

  “Sleep, beautiful girl, sleep.”

  Age Seventeen

  Muted cries echoed through the walls.

  But tonight…tonight they were different.

  Fear clenched my spirit, my entire being consumed with the compulsive need to go to her and wipe away whatever it was that hurt her this way. What haunted those aqua eyes.

  Quickly sneaking out, I stole into the confines of her room.

  There she was, facing me, lying curled around a pillow in the middle of her bed with tears seeping free.

  But this time I knew she hadn’t woken from a dream.

  I climbed up behind her, wrapped her in my arms, wishing desperately I could do something to take away her pain.

  Erase it from her spirit and ease it in her soul.

  But this sorrow?

  It was bone deep. Written in her marrow.

  I knew firsthand that type of pain couldn’t so easily be scraped away.

  My nose nuzzled beneath her hair, my mouth at her ear, whispering ease. “You can trust me, Edie. Trust me. Whatever it is, I get it. I get it.” My voice dipped deeper as I pulled her closer. “Talk to me.”

  Hesitation tensed her body, before she clung to me tighter, her voice the quietest plea. “Promise me, Austin…promise if I tell you, you’ll keep my secret safe. Because I need you to know.”

  “I will never tell.” The oath fell without hesitation.

  What I wasn’t expecting was that secret to tear me into a million pieces as I listened to her confide it in me.

  Anger.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever truly felt it before.

  Not before then.

  Protectiveness rose up in me like the darkest storm.

  A consuming destruction that billowed and built.

  Hate.

  That piece of shit Paul.

  I hadn’t seen him in a year or so. Not since we moved to the new house in the Hills. But I knew him. The slimy bastard who was always hanging around backstage like he belonged. Trying to take what didn’t belong to him. Wanting to be a part of Sunder’s world while having absolutely zero to offer it.

  But this time?

  This time he’d taken too much.

  I hugged a trembling Edie as close as I could, whispering ease. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  In the middle of all those words I made a silent promise in my head. Paul Nagle was going to pay.

  My eyes popped open to the fading darkness. Dawn was nothing but a suggestion preparing to break.

  My heart raced like a thoroughbred horse, and every single muscle in my body was hard.

  Rigid and straining.

  A needy growl fought to burst free when I realized what’d drawn me from sleep. I tempered it, gritted my teeth in restraint.

  Problem?

  I was lying flat on my back, and her sweet, delicate body was tucked to my side, the girl too fucking close for comfort. She had one leg hooked around my waist and a fist tightly wound in my shirt.

  Heat burned hot, and the satiny underwear she wore did nothing to conceal the fact her pussy was pretty much grinding against my hip.

  Yeah.

  Perfect. Problem.

  I groaned, hating myself a little bit. Leave it to me for my thoughts to go straight to the depraved and corrupt.

  But the truth of the matter was my cock was harder than fucking stone.

  I had the intense urge to bang my head against the wall.

  Instead, I banged it against my pillow.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Fuck.

  When that didn’t work, I crushed the heel of my palm into my eye. Hoping the pressure might quell the overpowering lust. The all-consuming need to bury myself in all that sweet and soft.

  To get lost in the warmth tucked into my side.


  A tiny, breathy moan.

  This from that pouty mouth.

  And I was sure I just might die.

  No chance could I just lay there like some kind of saint.

  Because I was nothing more than a man.

  Begging for some kind of mercy that I didn’t disturb her, I unwound her gorgeous body from mine and slipped out from under the covers, sucked in a cleansing breath I hoped would rein it in, and tiptoed into the bathroom where I quietly latched the door shut behind me.

  Needing space.

  Distance.

  Or maybe a fucking brick wall with padlocks and chains.

  I scrubbed both hands down my face, before I pushed some of the tension out with a heavy sigh.

  What the hell was I supposed to do?

  God, this girl had me in knots.

  Wanted her so bad. But I knew better than to push her. Knew she deserved time and respect.

  My gaze traveled right.

  Shower.

  Yes.

  Shower.

  Hidden away in this tiny room with her on the other side, a cold one might be the only solution.

  I turned the faucet on high, all too quick to strip out of my clothes. I stepped right into the driving cold.

  “Shit,” I hissed, bracing myself against the spray of icy shards pelting from the shower head.

  I sucked in a breath, released it between clenched teeth, and forced myself fully under it.

  Head dropped and chest heaving as rivers of ice-cold water slicked down my shoulders and back.

  But it did nothing to lessen the need. Gave me no sanity or pacification.

  Because all I could think about was the girl on the other side of the door.

  My girl.

  In my bed.

  Wearing just her panties and my shirt.

  An angel I wanted to dirty.

  I always had.

  Love was messy like that.

  All of my restraint scattered. I gripped my cock. Squeezed the base. My mouth dropped open at the pressure of my hand against my rigid length.

  I was a fool to think it might be enough.

  Shit.

  God, I was a bastard, but there was nothing I could do before I was giving in, leaning forward and bracketing my forearm above my head to hold my weight.