A Hero’s Haven

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A Hero’s Haven Page 12

by Tessa Layne


  CHAPTER 19

  August 12th

  Kate hit the last chord on the guitar as the lights went dark. The roar from the crowd crashed over her and carried her higher, higher. They’d loved the new material, sung along with her hits at the top of their lungs, cheered her band.

  A stagehand took her elbow guiding her along the glow tape that spiked the stage floor until she reached the sides. Offstage, she grinned at Cheyenne, offering a high-five. “Girl, you were on fi-re.”

  “You too,” Cheyenne crowed. “I need earplugs for the crowd.”

  Someone handed her a bottle of water. She cracked the lid and drained the contents in one long swallow. Excitement hummed through her veins. There was nothing, nothing like kicking off a tour in front of the hometown crowd. Except maybe ending it. She made a note to talk to Franco about booking a concert back here at the end of the tour. She grimaced internally. He’d have zero problems with that. The man only cared about the money she made him.

  “MORE, MORE, MORE,” the crowd screamed in unison.

  Pride surged through her as she looked at her band. She’d assembled the best musicians in the business. Any of them was easily talented enough to make a solo career, but they loved making music together. And they loved going on the road. The tour buses were lined up in the back lot behind the stadium, ready to roll out after the VIP party and drive all night long to Kansas City, the next leg on their tour.

  “Y’all ready to get back out there?” Kate smiled widely at the group. “Let’s do Only You, and then finish with Dance with Me.”

  Joey, her drummer, was the first to take the stage. He announced their return by kicking the bass drum to the rhythm of the crowd’s claps. As soon as they heard it, another deafening roar went up. Tiger and Brian, her bassist and rhythm guitarist, went next. Then Al, her keyboard player. Cheyenne went next, and as soon as Kate heard the driving rhythm of her bluegrass fiddle, she took the stage, letting the roar of adoration wash over her. She adjusted her guitar and joined in, doubling Cheyenne’s melody, then turning and giving it all to the crowd at the turnaround.

  Momma thought you were a bad boy, no good for me… but I knew better…

  And they were off and running, tearing through a song of teenage love and rebellion with driving force. The kind of music you blared with the windows down on a hot summer evening as you raced down back country roads. Just like they’d filmed in the music video that would drop tomorrow. The kind of music you lost yourself in, letting the words take you to a place full of possibility.

  Goosebumps cascaded through her as the last sound faded and the crowd went crazy. She was flying high, nothing could stop her tonight, not even the catch in the back of her throat she’d had for the last few weeks. She switched off her headset and approached the band. “Y’all, I have an idea. I wanna take Dance with Me more like a slow blues instead of a fast two-step.” She looked at Joey. “Think you can lay down a rhythm?”

  He tapped out a rhythm on the edge of the tom.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  Cheyenne arched a brow. “Your mom and Franco are going to shit their pants. You sure you want to rain down their wrath on opening night?”

  Kate was sick of the way they micromanaged her. She was determined to take more artistic control on this tour. Perform the songs the way she’d written them to be heard. “If she’s so pissed about it, she can march out on stage and try and stop us.”

  Joey laughed. “I’d bet a bottle of Michter’s US-1 to see that.”

  “On my count.” She turned back to the audience. “Hey there, Nashville. Y’all have a good time tonight?”

  Kate counted to three as the decibels went through the roof.

  “Aww, you know how much I love you. Thank you so much for helping me kick off our tour. Y’all are the best. I have a special treat for you tonight, you ready?” She cocked her chin over her shoulder, giving Joey the signal, and he laid down the perfect riff. Funky and soulful. She picked it up and fingered her way through the chord changes. Cheyenne came in with a mournful, otherworldly riff, making the violin tell a story of love and loss. Halfway through the changes, the roar from the crowd signaled they’d recognized the song.

  When I was a child, not more than six…

  Kate let the music fly through her, giving herself completely to the moment, to the crowd. If only she could capture this moment and bottle it. Hold onto it forever. Too soon, it was over, and she was taking her final bow.

  Her mother stormed up as soon as she stepped off-stage. “What do you think you were doing out there?”

  She glared at her mother. “Making music.”

  “You know better than to go off message like that.”

  Something snapped inside her. “This is a concert, momma, not a political campaign. And why not change things up? I didn’t hear the audience complaining.”

  “No. That will happen on social media,” Helene said acidly. “You need to give people what they expect.”

  “I need to be true to myself.”

  “Not if it costs you your career.”

  “It won’t. I know it won’t.” She knew better than to take on her mother, but this… feeling had been building for months. During all her work on the new album. She’d been chafing at the limits Helene and Franco imposed.

  Her mother’s mouth tightened, red lips forming a tight circle. “You know I only have your best interests at heart, dear.”

  She shook her head. “We’ll talk when I get off tour, but I’m going to start taking a more active role in everything.” Giving her mother a pointed glance, she adjusted her mic and turned back to the stage.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Her mother called after her, clearly outraged.

  “Giving the audience what they want,” she shouted without looking back, coughing at the tickle in her throat that had returned. “Okay, okay, okay, Nashville,” she said as she pulled up a stool and sat, strumming and checking the tuning. “I can’t stay all night, and neither can you. But I’ll give you a few more.” She’d be a little hoarse in the morning, but it was worth it to be out there, just her and the audience.

  Cheyenne met her offstage after she’d taken her final, final bow. “Way to stand up to the battle-axe,” she said.

  “She’s still my mom, Chey.”

  “Okay, sorry. But it’s nice to see you growing a little backbone.”

  Kate turned at the tap on her shoulder. One of the suits her mother had ordered up, spoke. Was he Ten? Ace? She couldn’t keep them straight. “Ms. Starr, I’m to escort you back to your dressing room.”

  She waved an arm. “Sure, sure.” She leaned into Cheyenne as they walked with the enormous man. “We need to get them some proper clothing. They look like spies.”

  Cheyenne laughed. “Yeah. Right out of James Bond. Down to the code names and buzz cuts.”

  “Meet you back here in ten? I just need to pull off the stage makeup.”

  True to her word, Kate stepped out of her dressing room ten minutes later, stage makeup and sweaty costume removed. She’d changed into a simple white dress, and kept her rhinestone boots and cowboy hat. Her mother had taught her well. The VIP room would expect a bit of glam with their photo-ops. The meet and greet passed in a blur of autograph signing, hand shaking, hugs and photos. Several champagne corks popped. Someone handed her a glass. And then all hell broke loose.

  “Kaycee, I told you not to give this concert tonight,” a terrible voice said. “Why didn’t you listen? All you needed to do was listen.”

  She spun. Terror froze every cell in her body. Mere feet in front of her stood a man in his thirties or forties. He could have easily been a fan, a dad, given his jeans and baseball cap. How many countless fans had she signed autographs for who looked just like this? Her heart stopped at the wild set of his eyes, and the weapon pointed at her. Her feet glued her to the ground. She opened her mouth, yet no sound came out.

  The world went into slow-motion and fast forwarded at the same t
ime.

  There was a shout. Several. The man swung around, waving the gun. Then a black blur followed by an explosion as the gun released. Screams came from all sides. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, clutching a broken glass, blood streaming down her arm, a large body next to her.

  “Man down, man down,” a voice shouted.

  “We got ’em.”

  “Get her out of here.”

  Everyone spoke at once. Her arm hurt like hell.

  Two arms scooped her up. “You’re safe. I’ve got you,” a voice spoke into her ear as she was carried away from the chaos. Confused and scared to death, she looked up and into the fiercely determined eyes of Deuce.

  CHAPTER 20

  Kate stared at him, slack-jawed. She was terrible at hiding her feelings. He could track what was going on in her head just by the expression on her face. “You look so different with your beard.”

  “Like a lumberjack from Maine, eh?” He let his Mainer accent thicken.

  “You had a buzz cut, and were so tight laced.”

  Cash winced. “I’m not so sure that’s changed.”

  Why wasn’t she angry? She should be condemning him, not looking at him with soft and curious eyes.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

  “I didn’t exactly make it easy,” he said drily.

  Her face twisted and red crept up her neck. She looked… ashamed. What the hell for? He was the one who’d failed her. “If I hadn’t been so shallow,” her voice lowered.

  “You’re not shallow,” he said gruffly.

  She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Come off it, Cash. I was. I can’t tell you the name of my roadies. I was too caught up in dealing with my mother and Franco, or the band. And I resented the intrusion of security, so I ignored them. One of you took a bullet for me, and I never even asked how he was.” She winced. “But I don’t understand. How could you say you nearly cost me my life?”

  This was it. The moment he’d avoided for far too long. A knot grew in his stomach. What would she think of him when it was all over? When she knew the awful truth of how he’d failed her? “Can we sit?” Tension knotted between his shoulders. He felt naked without the security of his beard. Exposed.

  Eyes wide, she stepped aside to let him pass. For an awful second, the same pit-of-his-stomach awareness he’d had the instant before they’d been ambushed, returned. He pulled in a deep breath, failing at quelling the fight or flight response surging through him. Legs propelling him forward, he dropped to the center of the couch, elbows braced on his knees. His breath came in harsh rasps as words jumbled through his mind.

  Kate pulled up a chair in front of him and took his hands. “I’m here, Cash. You’re not alone.” But he would be once he explained himself. The realization slammed into him, stealing his breath. He didn’t want to be alone. Not anymore. He gripped her hands like they were a lifeline.

  “Can I ask you some questions?”

  He dragged his gaze to hers, surprised at the softness there, the concern. “Anything.”

  “What happened… after? You taped my cut, and then the police were there, and it was a zoo until I was escorted home.”

  “Not much. I bandaged your cut. The bullet went through Ace’s shoulder, and he was good as new a few weeks later. I was put on… permanent administrative leave.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

  “Wait,” she said as the words sunk in. “You mean you were fired? I don’t understand. You saved me.”

  He shook his head, shame burning in his chest. “No. I didn’t. Ace and Guns saved you. I nearly cost you your life and the lives of my colleagues. The only thing I did right that night was carry you out of the room and provide first aid.” He’d gone over the details thousands of times in his head, looking for some small shred of evidence that he hadn’t been a coward, that hadn’t let down everyone in the room that day. All he could do now was explain himself the best he could. “But if you really want to understand why, there are other things I need to tell you.”

  Once again, he was back at the edge of the abyss, looking over into darkness he was all too familiar with. Would that feeling ever go away? He was so, so tired of this place. Of living with the constant fear that a noise, a question, a memory would drag him back. He puffed his cheeks, blowing out slowly. Maybe baring his soul would be like excising an infected wound. Once everything was out in the open, maybe then he could banish the demons and move forward.

  “Are you sure?” Her voice pulled him back. “You don’t need to torture yourself this way.”

  He nodded slowly, gut pulling tight.

  “When I was eleven, my mom took up with an asshole. He would get drunk and rage. One night–” Cash stopped and took a breath, reliving the memory like it was yesterday. “One night, he pulled a gun on my mom. I was there. And I froze. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.” He ghosted a smile. “My mom was brave. Stupid, really. She charged him, caught him off guard. The gun went off and shot a hole in her favorite painting but only grazed her arm. She was lucky.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head barely able to focus for the pounding in his veins. “I should have tried to protect her, and I didn’t.”

  “You were a kid,” she cried out, squeezing his other hand. “A little boy.”

  He shrugged. “I recognize that now, but part of me will always feel like it was something I did, I lacked. I was too scared to move.”

  “But you were a kid,” she whispered, voice catching.

  He winced, shaking his head. She didn’t understand. He had to make her understand. “But I was a big kid for an eleven-year-old. Almost as tall as my mom at that point. And I just stood there.” He shut his eyes, stomach churning.

  “And that’s why you decided to be a SEAL,” she murmured. “Because you wanted to keep people safe.”

  He nodded and fixated on their hands. Her tiny delicate fingers encased in his giant palms. God, what must she think of him? Some hero.

  “Then you survived an ambush, and some of your friends didn’t.”

  He nodded again, still unable to look at her. “And I recognize I was just damned lucky, but I keep wondering why? Why me? Especially when I come home and keep fucking everything up? I had no business asking for your assignment, and Bones knew it.”

  “Bones?”

  “Head of the security organization I was with. He knew it. He’d talked to me before. Seen my assessments. But I was convinced I could handle the assignment. I needed it. He assigned Ace to keep an eye on me. And Ace, rightly, sprang to action when I froze.”

  “But I still don’t understand what happened? I remember the man talking to me, and the gun, but everything was a blur after that.”

  It was stupid, the reason he froze. He should have known better, but he’d been too arrogant, convinced he could handle a little security detail. “Someone started popping champagne, and I went numb.”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth. “That’s what cut me. The champagne glass I was handed.”

  “Yep. I saw Williams pull the gun, and stood there. I just stood there,” his voice thickened and he covered his head, shame spiking through him, pressing on his chest like a weight. “Like a goddamned coward, while they did my job and took a bullet as thanks.”

  “But you pushed me out of the way, didn’t you?” There was a plea in her voice, as if she was looking for something good in him, something noble, from that day.

  He lost himself in the memory, drowning in it for the umpteenth time. “It was Ace. And he took the bullet.” He forced himself to look her in the eye. To accept whatever judgment she meted out. “I took you to safety. That was it.”

  She regarded him for a long moment, then cupped his cheek. “Oh, Cash. I’m so sorry.”

  Her movement took him by surprise. She was supposed to yell, scream, do something besides offer him kindness. He turned from her touch. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m the one that’s sorry. Sorry’s not enough. I’ve failed
over and over and over again to keep people safe.” His voice grew tight. “How can you trust me?”

  “I trust you because I’m crazy about you,” she hissed fiercely. “I’m falling in love you, Cash.” She blinked furiously, tears glimmering unshed as he locked eyes with her. “You are so brave. And you’ve overcome so much. And you never give up.”

  “I did after I got fired,” he whispered, cheeks burning. “I wanted to die.”

  She pressed her forehead against his. “But you didn’t. And you’re facing your fears. Every day. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you are.”

  “Kate. I want to promise you the moon, but I have nothing to offer you.” His voice thickened. “What if I freeze again?” He’d like to think he was over it, but he wasn’t so foolish as to make a promise he couldn’t be sure to keep. Especially to Kate.

  “You won’t. But if you do, then we’ll face it together. You’re okay. We’re both okay.”

  “How do you know?” His insides rocked like a boat in a gale.

  She placed a hand over his heart. His skin electrified under her palm, heart thumping against it. “I know it in here,” she murmured. “I feel it.”

  For a long time, neither of them moved. Cash breathed her in, drawing strength from her steady presence. He couldn’t possibly deserve her goodness, but he didn’t have the energy or the will to fight it anymore. He surrendered to the feeling growing between them. And when he tipped his chin and gently took her mouth, he poured all the love he had into their connection. He threaded his hands through her hair, letting the silky strands wash over him like a baptism. “Kate,” he spoke on a sigh when they parted.

  “Make love to me, Cash.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Cash’s eyes widened as the significance of her request sunk in. “Are you sure?”

  Her sweet big-hearted warrior. Always so concerned for her. Kate nodded. It was time and she was more than ready. “Make love to me,” she said more firmly.

 

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