“Never,” I promised, my voice full of conviction.
The cab quickly found the hotel. I jumped out after paying the driver. I tried to look like I belonged in the hotel, but a few eyes watched me nervously. I hit the call button on the elevator and tapped my foot while I impatiently waited.
Once I hit the third floor, I scanned the placards on the wall, finding that her room was to my right. It was at the end of the hall and I knocked quietly, hoping she’d just look through the peephole and let me in, but I was wrong.
“Go away, Ace,” she said, although it came out muffled through the thick door.
“Open the door, Presley,” I demanded, not caring that my voice deepened.
“Why?” she asked.
“Just let me in,” I pleaded, raising my arm to lean on the door frame. There was no sound coming from the room, no indication she was going to let me in. “I’ll sit out here until you have to leave.” I slid down, plopping my ass on the ground. The chain on my wallet scratched the door as I found a comfortable spot to hole up until she was ready to leave.
Chapter 9
Presley
Why was he here? And who the fuck sold me out? I bet it was Garrison. I knew Brian would rather throw his body in front of a bus than see me date a rock star.
He’d been out there for twenty minutes and I wasn’t going to let him in. I’d been crying, just letting my emotions out, and when he knocked, I thought it’d been one of the guys. But when I looked out the peephole, I was shocked to see the man I’d been infatuated with for the past month standing there looking like walking sex.
He wore black denim jeans, a white bandana tied to his belt loop. The chain for his wallet was also attached to that same loop. It made me want to tuck my finger in it and pull him toward me. I wanted to be close to him, to smell the unique scent of Ace Ryker. Jesus, he was like some aphrodisiac. I swore the man’s scent could be bottled and sold. Women would kill for that…God knows I would.
Fuck! I really needed to stop thinking about him and his scent, or that damn Witch’s Spawn shirt he was currently wearing. He’d taken the sleeves and sliced them off, leaving the sides open just enough that if he turned the right way, you could catch a glimpse of his sexy ass man nipples.
It took me another ten minutes before I finally gave up and opened the door, because I wasn’t a total bitch. I couldn’t just let him sit out there in the hallway.
“Are you okay?” he asked, jumping up as soon as the door started to open.
“I’m fine,” I said after a long sigh. He was concerned, and that made my hardened heart crumble. I didn’t understand these weird feelings I had toward this man.
“You’re not fine,” he said, pushing past me to walk in the room. His eyes scanned every surface, looking for something. “Why the hell did you run off?”
“I needed to be alone,” I explained. “I get…overwhelmed sometimes, Ace. It’s really nothing.”
“Are you doing drugs?” he asked, scanning the room once more.
“What?” I gasped. “No!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, running his hands through his curls. I was jealous of his own damn hands. Do you know how many times I wanted to do that exact same gesture? To run my hands through his hair? Shit! Stop!
“I understand,” I said, taking a seat at the end of the bed. There was a chair against the wall and about a foot from the edge of the bed. Ace took a seat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“I used to run off too,” he admitted. “When I got overwhelmed. I used to come to places like this and get high. I’d get so fucking trashed that someone would find me a couple of hours before the show and try to sober me up.”
“Damn,” I breathed. I knew he’d suffered from addiction, but I hadn’t had any idea as to how bad.
“You…you scared me,” he said softly, finally looking into my eyes. “I wanted to make sure you were alright…and safe.”
“Thank you,” I said, crossing my legs.
“I didn’t mean to scare you…when I touched you,” he apologized. “I just feel something when you are around, Presley. I like it when you are close to me.”
“I know,” I admitted, my voice only above a whisper. “I feel the same way and that scared me. I needed time to think.”
“And what did you think about?” he asked, a small smile playing on those sexy lips. I couldn’t very well tell him that I’d thought about him naked, pushing into me…making me his. No, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell him that an hour ago, I’d been in this very bed with my fingers buried in my pussy as I called out his name when I climaxed.
“I really don’t know,” I chuckled. “I haven’t been with another man in years, Ace. I seriously don’t even know how to be with someone.”
“It’s not that hard.” He smiled, reaching over to take my hand. The moment we touched, I felt his warmth seep into me. His fingers rubbing softly across the back of my knuckles sent a jolt of power through my arm…landing directly in my soul.
“For you,” I snorted.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, causing my cheeks to blush.
“You’ve been with so many women,” I answered honestly. “I’ve seen the pictures online and in magazines. I haven’t ever really had anything like that. It’s…it’s hard to explain.”
“Then try,” he pleaded.
“I can’t,” I said, wanting to tell him everything…to tell him about my life.
“Start with the scars, Presley,” he growled. “Tell me about them.”
“Ace,” I warned. “I…I can’t.”
“Damn it, I hate that word when it falls from your lips,” he cursed, releasing my hand and leaning back in the chair. I wanted to lean forward and take it back, just to have a lifeline to hold on to while I attempted to come clean to him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling completely defeated.
“Why do you say you can’t do something?” he asked, shaking his head in disappointment. I hated that look on his face. “I’m sorry, but a woman who is the best female rocker in recent times is going to sit there and tell me she can’t do something? Seriously, Pres…like seriously…telling me you can’t do something is the biggest crock of horseshit I’ve ever heard. Look at all you’ve accomplished in the last two years.” I couldn’t believe he talked to me like that, but then again…this was Ace. He was so straight forward. Out of all of the rock stars I’d ever met, he was one of the most genuine ones. He wasn’t a complete asshole.
“Yeah,” I sighed, tossing my hands in the air. I let them fall unceremoniously into my lap before I continued. “That’s my business life, Ace.”
“Then this has nothing to do with the band?” he inquired.
“No,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
“Tell me, Presley, or I will think the worst,” he urged.
“I’m better than I was,” I began, not able to look him in the eyes. “But I still have issues…trust issues…with men. I’m surprised the guys even let you come here.”
“I didn’t give them the option of not telling me where you were,” he smirked.
“Wow, they must really like you,” I chuckled, plucking at the comforter on the bed.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
“It’s a very long, painful story,” I said, looking at my hands. They were shaking and my palms were sweating. I glanced at my phone and remembered the most recent message from my father.
I want you to legally change your name. I don’t want your stupidity to ruin my career.
“We have a few hours,” he whispered, leaning forward again. Tilting his head, I was momentarily entranced by his dark brown curls. “Presley?”
“I’m sorry.” I blushed, shaking my head.
“Please?” he begged. I looked into his eyes and I swore in that moment, I could see his soul. Ace was open to me…raw. He wanted my trust…and I wanted to tell him.
Garrison’s words echoed in my head, “Hiding these events gives pow
er over to him.”
“My…my father…” I paused, swallowing a huge lump in my throat. I could do this without breaking down. “He’s the worst type of alcoholic. My earliest memories were of him getting drunk within an hour of arriving home from work.”
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“It seemed like I stayed in trouble and he was the one to always deal out my punishments. As I got older, I thought that I was a sinner because of the teachings from the church we went to on Sunday. The Sunday school teachers told me that God loved all of the children, only punishing those who were bad. I thought that I was bad for a very long time. When I was about twelve, I started seeing things for what they were.” I had to stop, because my breathing was getting ragged and the tears were flowing despite my wishes.
“Did he put the scars on you?” Ace asked, his voice deep and his lips were set into a fine line.
“Yeah,” I huffed, shaking off the memories. I reached up and touched the back of my neck. “I have many more than you know.”
“Son of a bitch!” he roared, gasping when he realized I’d jerked back from his outburst. “Oh, shit. Presley, I’m sorry. Please, baby. I’d never hurt you. I didn’t mean…”
“No, it’s okay,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I know you wouldn’t. You just startled me.”
He let me compose myself, not asking for me to continue, but I could tell that he wasn’t going to let me stop now. I couldn’t let my dad control me anymore, and I was afraid that he would until the day he took his last breath.
Or I took mine.
“My father is very wealthy, works as a CEO of a company. He is a narcissist. Up until I was sixteen, he made me believe that the world revolved around him. He told me once, after he’d beat me almost unconscious, that he was above the law and men with money didn’t go to jail.”
“What about your mother?” Ace asked, his voice full of compassion.
“She made excuses for him,” I replied. “All he did was throw money at her, and a good shopping trip would make her forget about her daughter who was in her room, recovering from his abuse.” I laughed harshly, remembering all the things she’d say as excuses.
“She used to tell me that he didn’t mean to break my ribs or leave me with choke marks around my neck. She actually used the age old excuse of trying to make it look better than it really was by telling me he loved me. She’d turn things around, convincing me that the assaults weren’t as bad as I thought. I later realized the toxicity that bled into our lives was affecting her mentally…that was something that she had convinced herself to do in those situations to keep the peace. God! What mother does that? If I had a child who was being beaten to nearly the point of death, I would kill my husband, not make excuses for him!”
“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, scooting the chair closer. I had to look at the ceiling, blink a few times, and remember to take deep breaths. I didn’t need to have an anxiety attack because of the memories. And they were just that…memories.
“I’m okay,” I replied, leveling my gaze back on his face.
“When did you leave?” he asked.
“I was nineteen.” I smiled, remembering the first few weeks of freedom, after I recovered from my injuries. “Garrison was a friend of mine. He’d graduated a year before me, and I’d once confided in him when he saw a bruise on my neck. He was heading out on tour with his band at the time. He’d given me a key to his place, begging me to go there if things got too bad. Well, they were always bad. It’s just that this one time…it was really bad.”
“What happened?” he urged, reaching out to take my hand.
“I have a hard time with affection, Ace,” I admitted, looking up at his beautiful eyes when he released my hands. I didn’t want him to let me go, so I reached out and took them back. “But for some reason, I like it when you touch me.”
“I like feeling your skin touch mine too, Presley,” he said, giving me a sad smile.
“He’d choked me two nights before, leaving bruises around my neck. You could see the imprint of his fingers,” I said, touching the very spot on my neck, just under my jaw. I looked into his eyes for encouragement, taking a deep breath so I could finish the story. “I wasn’t allowed at the dinner table when I had bruises. He didn’t like seeing me…it disgusted him. My mother would bring me food on the fucking fine china. I still hate that stuff.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. My throat tightened and I had to take a few deep breaths to continue. I had to tell him without throwing myself into a blubbering mess. It took a lot of control, but I continued with my story, reliving those last days all over as if they were happening again right in front of me.
“The night I left, mom had brought my food and I ignored her, only saying I wasn’t hungry. He came into my room in a fit of rage, grabbing the plate and throwing it at my face. I dodged it and I guess that set him off. I woke up hours later in my own blood. They’d left me there. I was able to sneak out and I walked across town to Garrison’s apartment. He found me there. I’d been out cold for almost two days. I guess I had a small concussion. Ever since then, I’ve been on my own.”
“Oh, Presley,” he gasped. When my eyes met Ace’s, there were tears in his. The backs of mine prickled, and I felt the warmth slide down my cheeks. “Please, let me hold you?”
All I could do was nod before he wrapped me in his arms, and in that moment, I didn’t want him to ever let me go. I couldn’t even explain why I felt so close to Ace. There was no reason for me to trust this guy, but deep down inside, I wanted to open up to him. Letting out all of the bullshit in my life was always therapeutic, but I never wanted to burden anyone with my issues.
I didn’t tell anyone about the nightmare I’d had the night before. That was one of the many reasons why I escaped as soon as we arrived. I needed time to sort out my thoughts because that dream had turned me inside out with fear when I woke in a puddle of my own sweat.
As Ace held me, I squinted my eyes to keep from remembering, but like a bad movie set on repeat, the nightmare played over and over in my head. In this one, my father was cursing me out only inches from my battered face, laughing at the fact that I found a boy who I thought loved me. He kept saying that I wasn’t loveable…that I wasn’t fit to be anything other than a whore like my mother.
“Breathe,” Ace cooed in my ear. I did as I was told, focusing on his voice. It didn’t take long before I felt my heartbeat slow and the tears stopped flowing from my eyes. He released me reluctantly and took a seat next to me on the bed. I smiled shyly when he brushed the wetness off of my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” I began, but Ace cut me off with a finger pressed to my lips. The move was so silly, I chuckled behind his finger.
“Don’t ever apologize for having emotions,” he said. “We all have demons, Presley, and shit we have to work through to be who we are. So, don’t ever tell me you’re sorry for crying.”
“Thank you for coming here,” I blurted.
“I wouldn’t have been anywhere else,” he said, kissing my forehead.
“We need to get back, I suppose.” I sighed, but didn’t pull away from his hold. Why the hell did I feel so secure in his arms?
“I’ll call a cab,” he offered, standing up to remove his phone from his back pocket. “Do you want to clean up a little before we go?”
“Do I look that bad?” I frowned, looking toward the bathroom.
“You’re beautiful,” he told me, like it was obvious.
I blushed and made my way into the bathroom. Mascara was smudged under my eyes and my lips were puffy from all of the crying I’d been doing. I grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed my face, not bothering to grab any makeup from my bag. I’d let the swelling go down on the ride back to the buses where I could reapply everything before going on stage later that night.
“The cab is here,” Ace announced, standing in the door of the tiny bathroom. He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it and follow him out of t
he room.
It wasn’t until later on after the show that it occurred to me that Ace had diffused my bout of depression just by his presence. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, because I was finding it harder and harder to stay away from him the more time we spent together.
Chapter 10
Ace
The scenery passed outside the window of the bus like a movie set at a high speed. Trees and buildings were nothing but a blur. My thoughts were miles away on another bus, solely focused on the heart of a woman that had ripped open her soul to me, allowing her pain to spill at my feet.
Presley had been abused as a child…and as an adult even. To live in that environment for nineteen years would have to have done some serious damage to even the strongest person. The thought of her father almost killing her sent a rage through me. It brought back all of the memories of my friend, Ella, and the hell she’d lived through for only a year. She’d paid the ultimate price…with her life.
“Hey, bud,” Coraline said as she entered the lounge area in the back of the bus. Her short pixie hair was in disarray from her sleep. She pushed a cup of coffee in my hand and took a seat next to me, leaning her head back on the leather couch.
“Hey,” I replied, blowing across the top of the hot liquid. I watched as the steam rolled off and disappeared into thin air. I really wished the thoughts in my head would do the same. I’d been up all night, tossing and turning as I tried to dislodge the pictures shown at Ella’s killer’s trial as they flipped through my mind’s eye. God, it was gut wrenching how much she had suffered.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I groaned. “Just got a lot going on up here.” I pointed to my temple.
“I know.” She shrugged, turning sideways so that she could look into my eyes. “Just want to make sure your head is in the right place.”
Fatal Temptations (Fatal Cross Live! Book 2) Page 7
