Between Loves (The Pendant Series Book 2)

by Austin, Cynthia

  How did the press get this photograph?

  The headline almost made the whole thing worse, if that was even possible.

  Lead vocalist of the up and coming band Unspoken Words

  wasn’t so unspoken last night.

  When push comes to shove you don’t want to be anywhere near lead vocalist Ray Ryker. Longtime girlfriend Sidney Sinclair learned that the hard way after the rock star was charged with drunk and disorderly and domestic abuse charges. Watch out ladies, he may be single now, but is he really the gentleman we all dreamed of?

  I slammed the laptop shut and laid my head across the desk. No wonder Ray blocked me from his life. I almost ruined his career. Ray was never going to forgive me for this.

  I had one thought. We were over.

  Chapter 14

  Who Are You Anyway?

  I decided to play the role that was expected of me and although it was a fabrication at first, eventually it came to be the truth, and my new life began to take shape. I was no longer that helpless girl too infatuated with her first love to grow a backbone and stand up for herself. That introverted sheepish girl was gone and in her place stood an imitation of what I once was.

  I was now just a fraud.

  Detective Albright would call periodically to give me updates on the case but nothing ever broke.

  “I just need one interview with Mr. Ryker, but those lawyers of his are out of this world. He has this whole staff of high powered attorneys that continue to put up road block after road block. It’s amazing what a little bit of money and power can do for someone.”

  I guess Ray was inaccessible to more than just me.

  I sat in the detective’s dark, dreary office as he briefed me on his investigation. It had been close to a week since I had entered back into this world as a productive citizen and I had decided to stop by the police station on my way to work and see what leads may have been established on Nouri’s case. Or lack thereof.

  Of course going after Ray was ridiculous. Chrissy was right, it was obviously the meds talking when I had suspected him for a millisecond that day in the hospital. Ray would never have hurt me. There was only one person who could have been responsible.

  “Have you gotten a chance to interview Lilly Lavelle yet?” I questioned the detective while gripping the Styrofoam cup of coffee.

  Just mentioning her name made my entire body tense up. I patted my jean pocket and began to relax once I felt my pill bottle inside.

  The detective shook his round face as he sat back in his swivel chair with a look of exasperation. “Ms. Lavelle is ten times harder to talk to than Ryker. It’s as if I’m chasing a ghost. I can’t find any record of a Lilly Lavelle living in the entire Los Angeles County.”

  He tossed some papers across his desk as if it were a white flag he was throwing down in surrender. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, but unless your boyfriend starts talking, it looks like we may never know who was behind the murder of your grandmother’s nurse.”

  There was a slight pause while the detective struggled with how to phrase his next question. “Have you decided whether or not you would like to press charges against Mr. Ryker for the domestic assault?”

  His question took me by surprise. Never once did I toy with the idea of pressing charges against Ray. I had done enough damage already just with the media coverage. Not to mention the photographs that made it ten times worse. The articles made Ray out to be a monster, as if his own hands caused the damage to my forehead. The press had no idea that I was already injured when Ray and I struggled a bit. Ray never meant to hurt me physically, there was no way.

  Then a very selfish thought came to my mind. I looked up and met Detective Albright’s glare full on and asked, “What if I did press charges against Ray? Would I get to see him again?” I quickly modified my question to make it sound less desperate and more causal, “I mean, I would have to see him in court, right?”

  The look of an apology washed over the detective’s face and he explained that even if I did decide to press charges, the D.A. still had a chance to drop them and it was very likely that they would.

  “Why?” I asked, astonished. The proof was there, pictures and all. Why would they drop the case?

  “Let’s just say that Black Millennium Records recently donated a hefty sum of money towards the Noddington Heights Police Department. The donation will basically keep us employed for the next two years.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Ray’s record label paid off the city’s police force in order to keep him from ever seeing me again. And the police force accepted? This news couldn’t be much worse. Even though I never thought Ray had intentionally meant to hurt me, it still angered me that my injuries didn’t seem to matter.

  To anybody.

  The joys of living in a small town amounted to an inadequate police force that was very susceptible to bribes. I thanked the detective and left for work. It looked like I was never going to see Ray again, and even worse, whoever Nouri’s killer was—they were going to get off scot free. I just hoped they didn’t return for me.

  Samael’s coming for you, Sidney. Don’t let the dreams or his charm fool you. It’s all lies.

  No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake my mother’s warning. What if my dream wasn’t a dream at all, but more a premonition? Then than means Samael is already here. That I have already met him…I pushed the disturbing thought from my mind. Adrian showed up around the same time my dreams began, could it be more than coincidence that he holds the same alluring green eyes as the man in my dreams? No way. If he was, then that would mean he was responsible for my injuries and that was something I would never believe.

  ***

  At work, I brushed my hand against the black rubber belt causing the products to slowly come down the line. One by one I began scanning the items: Diet soda, bananas, milk, four pre-made ham and cheese sandwiches…

  It was Sunday evening and all I could think about was getting off work in the next twenty minutes, going home, eating dinner, and going to sleep.

  Sleep was my salvation these days.

  I placed the items in a paper bag and pressed the button on the register for the total. I robotically replied to my customer, “That will be $19.84.” I yawned, finally bringing my head up to meet his gaze.

  I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw that black hair falling in front of those unmistakable green eyes.

  “Adrian.” I gasped. My mind was racing as I quickly attempted to reassemble my thoughts and pleaded with my inner self not to make a fool of me. “Uh, how have you been?”

  He handed me a twenty-dollar bill and I quickly stuffed it into the register and began counting out his change.

  “Confused,” he answered. “You sort of disappeared on me.”

  I handed him his change and glanced inside the paper bag and rolled my eyes.

  “Seriously? This is the same load of crap you bought the first time I met you. Are you incapable of eating anything substantial other than sandwiches?” I joked, intentionally ignoring his last statement.

  He shrugged and grabbed the bag. “I’m not much of a cook, just doing what I gotta do to stay alive. See you around.”

  Before I could even gather my thoughts, my inner self unleashed itself and the pent-up words escaped my lips before I had a chance to modify them. “I get off work in twenty minutes. Do you want to take a walk with me later?”

  Holding my breath in anticipation I could feel my cheeks turning vulnerable red.

  “Sure,” he said, as that familiar smile returned to his lips. “I’ll meet you at the front of the store in twenty minutes.”

  ***

  All I could see was his silhouette and the red glow from his cigarette. We had been walking for a couple of miles and decided to stop and rest at the cemetery. He brought the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag.

  After letting out a cloud of smoke he asked, “What if life was nothing more than a dream?”

  I sat in the da
rk for a long time while I pondered his question. I’d often had the same thought about life, I’ve thought about it even more since I met him. How else could it explain how I had initially dreamt this man up, and then he had appeared as someone very real to me? I mean not exactly, my dream guy and he had different names, but Samael did harbor some strong similarities to Adrian.

  “I suppose it could be,” I answered.

  “My words can change your life, Sidney, if you’d only start to believe them.”

  Another pause while he inhaled his toxicity. “They can also destroy you, if you let them.”

  I rolled my eyes as I embraced myself for more of his riddles.

  Even in the dark, Adrian noticed my lack of interest. “Don’t turn your head away like you don’t care to listen to what I have to say.”

  He had some anger in his voice. He appeared to be in one of his moods again. I hated it when he spoke to me like this. He was the most intelligent person I had ever met, and we did get lost in deep conversations about crazy things I could never talk to anyone else about. But sometimes when he spoke in these riddles it drove me crazy. There was more behind his words and it bothered me that he couldn’t just say the words he wanted to.

  “Is this world really where you want live?” he asked.

  I snorted and then kicked the rocks next to my feet, “As if I really have a choice, Adrian.”

  Ignoring my sarcasm, Adrian continued with his nonsense, “I read a story once, it was a long time ago and of course I don’t remember all of the details, but I do remember the point of the story. There was this woman, and her life seemed to be falling apart.”

  Sounds familiar.

  “Throughout the entire story, she was being haunted by some entity. I can’t remember how exactly, maybe through dreams or some kind of medium.”

  Sounds very familiar.

  “Anyway, long story short…” He smirked and looked over at me. “Mainly because I don’t remember it. The girl woke up, and when she did she was in the place of her dreams. That person haunting her was her real self. She lived a life of eternity and every time she fell asleep she would dream up this entire fictional life. What if that’s really what happens? What if no one really dies here but instead they just wake up?”

  He took another drag of his cigarette and then flicked it onto someone’s plot. We both watched the red glow fade into nothing. Adrian hopped off of a little statue platform and slowly started to walk toward me. I scooted over so there was enough room for him to join me on the wooden stairs.

  He sat down and looked into my eyes, searching for something. Understanding, perhaps.

  “That sounds too good to be true,” I whispered.

  It was a great story, and for a microsecond, I was pretty tripped out about how much I related to it, but to just be able to wake up and have all of this crap be a dream? I’d woken up every morning for the past month wishing this was one big dream but it’s not. I’m still stuck in this town with my sick grandmother and Ray still hates me. This story didn’t relate to me at all.

  But it did make me want my pills. Pulling the bottle out of my purse, I tossed two pills into my mouth.

  Adrian narrowed his eyes, looking at me in disbelief. “Really? You’re the one who said so yourself that day in my car; that perhaps life is just some kind of illusion. That we leave when conditions are no longer sufficient.”

  I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. It was getting cold out here. “If life was a dream, I would have been able to force myself awake and out of this nightmare already.”

  Adrian sat back and pulled out his pack of Marlboros. He shook the pack and snatched a cigarette with his mouth. He was about to light it when I grabbed it.

  “I hate it when you smoke,” I pleaded.

  Adrian turned his head and smiled his crooked smile at me. He put the cigarette back in the pack and put them in the pocket of his jeans, then took my hand in his. I loved being with him, even when he got all worked up with his crazy talk. It felt good just to sit here with him, in the dark, lost in our thoughts, holding hands…

  He pressed his nose against my hair and inhaled deeply, “Where did you go?”

  The question overwhelmed me with a deep sadness. I took a breath and let out a long wistful sigh. Adrian squeezed my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine as he smiled at me.

  I answered him truthfully, “Crazy, I guess.”

  He let go of my hand and ran both hands through his shiny black hair. Looking up at the stars he answered, “But you’re back now.”

  I let myself breathe again. “Yes, I’m back now.”

  He took my hand in his again, “That’s good, because I really missed you.”

  I gave myself a pep talk, Come on, Sidney. You can do this. Tell him how you feel. Tell him!

  Adrian looked over at me, waiting for me to say something.

  Avoiding all eye contact, I replied, “I really enjoy spending time with you.”

  And I think maybe I’m falling in love with you.

  Adrian smiled and gave my hand a tug, pulling my body closer. His body heat wrapped around me like a blanket. “I like spending time with you too, Sidney. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I know.”

  I had so much more to tell him, but I just couldn’t force the words out of my mouth.

  I also couldn’t end the night without knowing the answer to the question that burned in my mind.

  “Are you still in love with your old girlfriend?” I asked, this time I forced my eyes to stay on his. He smiled his crooked smile and gave me a slight nod of his head.

  “I’ll always love her, Sidney,” he answered. “Now come on, we better get you back home. Besides, I need a cigarette.”

  He laughed as he nudged me with his arm.

  Chapter 15

  Getting Over You

  I wasn’t the first person to have my heart broken and I knew I surely wouldn’t be the last. People break up every day. They may feel sad momentarily, but eventually they get over it. Their hearts mend and they move on with their lives.

  Time heals all. Well, most of the time.

  I knew I was no different and eventually I would get past this. But right now, the road to recovery seemed like a cross country trek and I didn’t know if I could make it to the finish line. Of course I went through the motions everyone expected me to do. I awakened each morning, which was a struggle itself. I took care of Granny, went to work, and came home to go to bed. Sometimes, if I could force myself through the motions, I hung out with Chrissy and we had our girl talk. But as time wore on, it was clear I was slipping away from my best friend. She just didn’t understand the hurt I was going through.

  I wore a smile and laughed enough to satisfy those around me who believed I was making good progress without Ray in my life, but the truth was, I felt more like a robot than a person.

  I fell into the same childhood ritual of falling asleep to my mother’s old favorite, a CD by Jewel.

  Normally I didn’t care for that type of music, but the album reached the depths of my soul and seemed to speak volumes to me. Perhaps it just reminded me of my dead mother. When I was a kid I would sometimes close my eyes and pretend the voice coming out of the speakers was my mom singing me to sleep. Now, in my current situation, I still listened to my mother’s album, but a different song caught my interest for a very different reason.

  It was a song about a boy named Adrian who had come back to town and everything changed upon his arrival. Ever since I had met Adrian, I couldn't get that song out of my head. It had always been a quirky talent of mine to find a way to make each and every song relate to my life, but this one took the cake.

  ***

  Everyone wants a good story. They don’t care if you hurt, if you cry, or if you bleed. As long as it’s good, they’ll be by your side cheering you on. I guess that’s what happened with Ray and me, because nobody gave a crap about my boyfriend’s band until I met Adrian. After that ni
ght at the cemetery, my life—scratch that—our lives had changed forever.

  The month of September was now coming to an end. The trees were beginning to shed their leaves and the hills were still golden yellow, thirsty for water as they desperately yearned for the fall season to arrive. I still hadn’t spoken to Ray, but another one of his songs was being played on the radio and their debut album had been produced and was released earlier last month.

  I guess after his arrest, he had gone back to L.A. and put all of his concentration into that album. He recorded the final three songs and amended the one the label had not agreed with.

  His music had changed. What used to be soft harmonious love songs played with drums and the electric guitars had now been transformed into a darker style fusion of dissonance and cacophony. The word love was replaced with hate and vocal screams echoed about revenge before dropping back into the melancholy chorus.

  The fans ate it all up and demanded more as they seemed to hang onto every word Ray sang.

  I hung onto just one word.

  At first the word was hate. But slowly it changed. Because it was never a definitive hate. He would sing lines like, “Maybe I should hate you.”

  If ever there was a time to hang onto a word, the time was now and the word was maybe.

  The word held so many possibilities. Like maybe he doesn’t hate me. Maybe he would still forgive me. But if that was the case then why did he block my number? Why hasn’t he tried to call me?

  Needless to say, every fan added to Ray’s list became my nemesis. They hated the person who could bring such a man as Ray into disparity. They never stopped to consider the fact that every story had two sides. I was voiceless in that world. This was his universe now. He was the dictator.

  The band’s new single had a video that MTV would play late at night and I’d be a liar had I claimed ignorance about it. Of course, I had watched it over and over again. The song was too beautiful not to enjoy it.