I picked up my keys, grabbed my suitcase, and threw it on the bed. Only to sit next to it, realizing I didn’t know where to go. Or what to do next.
They said they’d blacklist him not just from their label but from the entire industry if he doesn’t.
Cam would lose not just his position as a country music star, he’d have to disband his crew—the men he’d fought with all those years ago, who trusted him to provide them with a livelihood. I knew Cam well enough that he’d want to remain loyal, especially if I were pregnant.
I placed my hand over my stomach, hoping, wishing, I was. But, at the same time, my life grew more complicated by the hour.
The best thing I could do for Cam, for his family, for Chuck and even my parents, was leave.
I started to laugh. The hysterical, ugly, broken laugh that I’d heard once before—during my “psychotic break.”
I forced my mouth shut and stiffened my spine.
Time to leave. Yes, leaving, finding something I could focus my attention, my energy on…that was smart. I packed quickly, trying to ignore my shaking hands.
I made phone calls as I packed, swallowing down the bitter pill of regret that once again, my life was not mine to lead.
“No time like the present for a little road trip!” I sing-songed into the empty, quiet space just before I began to tremble from the weight of the terrible choice I’d been forced to make.
30
Cam
I finished my set and bowed off the stage. Time for my encore. I rolled my head, trying to ease the tension that built there as the day progressed. I really needed to talk to Jenna.
Much as I wanted to be there with her, for her, my label made that impossible. Which left me only one choice.
I stepped back on the stage to a great cheer. I smiled, my heart warming at the adulation. Time to see where the fans’ loyalty lay.
I glanced over at Chuck and Erika as the roadie handed me my guitar, my nerves making my guts turn molten. Man, I hoped I’d made the right decision because both their paychecks—and many others—depended on me to do right.
I stepped up to the mic. Time to man up.
“You like my guitar?” I asked.
The crowd roared.
“Couldn’t quite tell if you approved.”
The volume went up a lot of decibels. I waited for the noise to die down.
“My gal Jenna Olsen made it for me.”
The yelling all but stopped. My stomach cramped, but I maintained my smile as I began to stroke out a few chords to a well-loved song.
“From all the posts on social media, I get the sense some of y’all don’t like Jen all that much.”
Some boos filled the room, along with words I’d never say about a woman. I gritted my teeth.
“And that’s too bad. She’s not only an amazing artisan, she’s also one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
No more boos but the crowd remained stubbornly silent.
“Had a meeting with my record label today,” I said, keeping it conversational. “They told me if I kept seeing Jenna, they’d cut me loose. Make sure I never made music again.”
This time the crowd grumbled, some gasped. Others hissed.
“But, see here. I didn’t serve my country for years to be told what I can and cannot do in my free time.”
People shifted their feet. I picked up the pace of my tune and the band behind me joined in.
“I happen to love Jenna. She’s what makes me happier than I’ve ever been. So, I told the record label they can keep their fancy contract, fancy tour, and fancy bus. I’d rather sit on a porch swing with my gal, drinking sweet tea as we watch our tots in the yard than kowtow to a bunch of suits.” I stopped playing as did the band behind me. “So, I guess, I’m announcing my retirement. Y’all have been great. Thanks for supporting me in the past. Too bad we had to end it here.”
I slid my guitar down, my hand still around the neck as I walked off the stage, my footfalls loud in the stunned silence.
Chuck kept his arms crossed, but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. “Best speech you ever gave, chief.”
“Too bad Jenna couldn’t be here to hear it delivered in person.” I laid my guitar in its case, snapped the locks and picked up the handle. “Can you drive me over to her place now? I have a hankering to kiss her pretty lips.”
Chuck’s smile bloomed. “Sure hope I find a nice lady I’m that in love with someday. Seems a pretty good place to be.”
“Will be. Once I hold her in my arms.”
I tossed Chuck my truck keys as I pulled out my phone. Jenna didn’t pick up her phone when I called her again.
A twinge hit my loosening neck muscles. Jenna always answered her phone.
I called Katie Rose.
“You heard from Jenna?” I asked as soon as she picked up.
“Not since she and her lawyer headed to the police station.”
“What? When was that?”
“Y-you didn’t know about that?” Katie Rose stammered.
“Hell, no. I got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Umm…”
“Spit it out. I’m on my way over to her place now, and I don’t know what I’ll be walking into.”
“You’re going to be so mad at me,” Katie murmured on a hiccup.
Probably I was. I sighed, running my hand through the short hairs on the back of my neck. “Lay it on me.”
She did. I tried to stay calm and breathe through her recitation, but I couldn’t help cursing a time or two. Damn Jenna’s father for acting so rash and damn Ben, too. These men were mucking up my selfless gesture.
Could have told her you loved her when you had the chance, one of the voices in my head whispered. I tried to ignore it.
Katie Rose said, the first bit of panic threading through her voice, “You haven’t seen her all day? She was upset earlier, like really.”
“Like, how really?” Now the panic began to seep into my chest.
“I don’t know. She shut me down. Said she was closing the shop next week—”
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“Well, yeah. I mean. I didn’t think it was weird. Now I’m…I’m scared.”
Not as terrified as me. My chest ached and my guts iced, just like they used to before a serious firefight.
Shit.
Why hadn’t I thought about how deep the loss of her grandfather immediately followed by her father would cut her?
I’d told her I was there for her. But when she needed me most, I wasn’t.
Last night I thought she needed the space, but I started today in meetings that didn’t let out until I was already late for sound check at The Moody Theater. I hoped I’d been smart to lay my relationship with Jenna on the line during my first—and likely last—Austin City Limits performance.
Time would tell if my fans stuck by me or were swayed by Ben’s craziness and tabloid headlines. Right now, I couldn’t worry about that because all my head space was taken up with worry about my gal.
Why hadn’t I pressed harder after the funeral? Her eyes held such desolation.
Because pushing her then meant accepting her broken bits, helping her find a way to heal them. She’d warned me. From the beginning, that first dinner together, she attempted to explain. I just didn’t want to see…didn’t want that kind of responsibility again.
“Is Mitch with Jenna?” I asked Chuck as we pulled onto her street.
“No. She told him to go home a couple of hours ago.”
I cursed and Chuck dipped his head, lips pressed together in a grim line.
I tore into the building, probably looking at least half-crazed. I beat on her door until my hand throbbed, but she didn’t answer.
I took the stairs two at a time and my leg burned even more than my hand when I returned to the lobby.
“You seen Jenna?” I asked the concierge.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Grace. Ms. Olsen left a little while ago.”
>
“Did she leave a message? Anything?”
Chuck started and turned to stare at me, mouth gaping. Yeah, that bad, my friend.
The younger man blinked, his mouth twisting as he clutched at his papers. “No, sir. She didn’t. She just said she wouldn’t be back for a while.”
“No.” The words tore up my throat, ripped from my chest, already leaving a deep, primal, unquenchable ache. I should have told her I loved her. I should have got up and walked out on the label earlier instead of trying to pacify them.
But I didn’t. I’d wanted Jenna on my terms—with my career intact and my fans adoring. When I finally had to choose, I waited too long.
And Jenna was gone.
Unsure what else to do, I called Jenna’s brother, Jude.
“Have you heard from your sister?”
“No. I assumed she was with you.”
“She’s not at her place.”
“You hear that, Mom? Jen’s missing.”
I heard a scuffle, a choked sob. Not that I cared. Mrs. Olsen played a part in this, too.
“Micah’s calling her now.”
We waited in strained silence. “She’s not picking up,” Jude said.
“She doesn’t have a car. It’s totaled,” I heard Mrs. Olsen say.
“Where could she be?” Micah rumbled in the background. “We’ll go out, start looking.”
“I’m on it,” I said.
“This is my fault,” Mrs. Olsen sobbed. “I didn’t think. I didn’t think about how she’d react to her father’s actions. I told her today…at the station none of this was her fault… She has to know that.”
No, she didn’t. Everyone in her life said they cared about her but then slashed her with carelessness—me included. She ran away to Seattle but was forced back here by more cruelty. She buried herself in work, a clear attempt to eliminate the need for relationships, for emotion.
Why was I just seeing this now?
After hanging up the call, I slammed my hands on the clerk’s desk.
Damn me nine times over for a complete fool.
He started, but he’d paid attention to my call.
“How did Jenna leave?”
“By courtesy shuttle.”
“To the airport or a car dealership?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see anything other than the front of the vehicle and the man’s shirt. Ms. Olsen had a suitcase with her.”
“She could be anywhere,” Chuck muttered.
I headed toward the door, intent to get out there, do something. Find my gal before…
“What are you doing?” Chuck grunted, finally catching up.
I ignored him, turning in a circle on the busy downtown street instead. I headed back toward the parking lot, planning to get in my truck and…do something. Where would she go? Seattle. To Nessa and Abbi. Seemed likely. Chuck scrambled around people, cursing me in more creative speech than I’d heard even in the military.
I glared at my phone, willing Jenna to call me, to let me know where she was, how she was. I stumbled to a stop. “Find a goddamn phone.” I pulled up the application on my phone.
The benefit of spending days together was I’d learned her passwords. I tried the first and it failed. Without stopping to think, I slammed my fist straight into the side of the building in front of me, barely registering the pain in my knuckles and whole hand.
After thinking for a moment, I typed in a second.
Fail.
I sucked in a breath and blinked back the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. “I can’t lose you, sugar. You’re my everything.”
Of course. I typed in the first two words of the song I’d sung for her that first night at her guitar shop, and then the 00 she put at the end of every password I’d ever seen her use.
My breath trickled out slow, just this side of a sob. She’d turned me into a blubbery fool, and I couldn’t care less if people thought I was insane. I was crazy about that crazy girl I’d managed to let slip away.
I clicked on the locate button and jumped up with a fist bump, landing with a hiss and tucking my injured hand into my armpit.
“Chuck, can you find me some ice? I need to get to Luckenbach. Now.”
Chuck hurried off, returning as I hitched myself into the driver’s seat of my truck. “Thanks, man. I’m pretty sure I broke it.”
“Better get it looked at, then.”
“After Jenna’s safe.”
He walked around toward the other side of the vehicle and opened the door while I settled in and turned on the ignition with my one good hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Coming with you since you won’t let me drive. To guard you. You know, what you pay me to do.”
“Not this time.” Chuck glared, hauling himself upward. “No, Chuck. Follow in another car if you need to but no way. Close the door. I have a lot of speeding to do.”
“Cam, I can’t let you...”
“Shut the goddamn door!” I yelled, revving the engine.
Chuck glared but did as I said. He jumped back with a curse as I peeled from the spot.
31
Jenna
I had no plan, just the knowledge I needed to leave before I pulled Cam and the rest of my family down any further.
Needing a distraction, I turned on the car stereo and out blared an Old 97s song, one of Cam’s favorite bands. How unfair that the first song the Bluetooth picked up was that one. I whimpered at the lyrics to “Streets of Where I’m From.”
“Hearts paving streets. Country music is the best at break-up songs.”
I fumbled with the buttons until Eminem’s “The Monster” roared from the speakers.
“I really love you, Camden Grace. I wanted to be happy.” I gripped the wheel harder and I screamed it again, then again, until my throat raged raw. Still I screamed.
That’s when I had to pull over. Out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but prairie and too much night pressing in, pressing down on me.
I hated the dark. I leaned my head back against the seat and frowned up at my sunroof, trying to make out a star through the thick blanket of clouds.
Rain, maybe a thunderstorm. And I was out in it. Alone.
Because Cam didn’t love me. Not enough to tell his label to take a hike. Not enough to even call me today to check in.
I blinked back the tears.
“All right. Now’s not the time to throw that pity party.”
Actually, it totally was. I hated to drive in storms. Hated the way the thunder boomed like a gun.
I glanced over at my pills. Twenty-three of each. I could dump them in my mouth, take them all right now and end my misery.
I picked up the bottles. My hands shook with longing—with the need to just do it—put myself out of this miserable loop.
Cam’s words to me last month flowed through my mind, over my skin, heating me from the inside as my skin contracted with the shiver of rejection. “Skin to skin with you is better than anything I’ve ever felt. Better than any heaven could be.” He’d kissed me so softly, and I’d believed him.
I set the pills down and covered my belly with my palm. Until my body betrayed my deepest wish, I wouldn’t put the tiny sliver of hope at risk.
“We’re in this together, baby,” I said, trying not to choke on the words Cam had said to me so many times.
Probably nothing was there, but I needed the reason to keep driving, keep breathing. Just keep going.
I pulled back onto the highway, finally paying attention to where I was. Not too far from Luckenbach. I snorted, cutting off the next round of hysterical giggles that threatened to burst forth. Stupid of me to fall so hard for a country singer. Every city or town in the humongous state was listed in some country song—and had to do with a lost love or broken-down pickups.
“Don’t you die on me, car.” I tightened my hands on the wheel of the brand-new sedan. “You’re not a truck, the rainstorm hasn’t hit yet, so this isn’t an a
ctual reenactment, got it?”
Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and I realized, just like that Garth Brooks song, fate still hated my guts.
I checked into a motel, mainly for the novelty. I’d never stayed in a tiny place like this. It was the first option I’d come to with a vacancy sign and the lightning struck so close to my car I freaked out and ended up in the parking lot before I had time to blink.
Now that I was settled into my room, showered and still so damn achy from the long interrogation today, I settled a notepad on my lap and chewed on a pen cap.
I had plenty of money, thanks to Pop-pop leaving me the shop. If I sold my chic condo, I’d turn a tidy profit.
I picked up my phone and dialed Nes’s number.
“I can’t go back to Austin. That town’s jinxed for me. Can I…”
“Jump the first plane and get your ass here now. We’ve got the extra space, and you know I want you here with me. Who else am I going to have ramen with?”
Tears pooled in my eyes. Nes said what I needed to hear.
Lightning slashed across the sky and Nes’s voice grew tinny.
“I didn’t catch that, Nes.”
“…when you’re here…Dane said…” Too much static.
The ache in my heart seemed to expand. I wanted that—what Nes and Dane had. What Abbi and Clay built. The loving family Kai created with Evie. The ache turned into a searing pain that ripped through my stomach.
“No,” I moaned.
“What’s wrong?” Nessa’s words were clear and scared.
“Stomach. Ouch!” I sat up with a gush of fluid wetting my legs. No. No! Blood. Everywhere.
“Nessa. I’m bleeding.”
“Where? How?”
“I think… I must be miscarrying.” The last word was a keening wail that Nessa matched with a shriek of my name.
I dropped my phone to the bed, holding my stomach as the next deep, terrible ache bit into me.
“No,” I moaned. “No.”
“Jenna!” Nessa’s scream filled the room and my head, but I couldn’t do more than sob and gasp as the last tiny dream, my tiny tendril of hope, slipped from my body.
Deep in the Heart Page 22
