Finding Forever (Found in Oblivion Book 7)

by Cari Quinn

  But this band didn’t come out with drums blazing, or even a guitar as the focus.

  No, it was a heartbeat and the crowd lived for it.

  “Who is that?” Molly said out of the side of her mouth.

  Jules had been a fan of their music for a long time, but she couldn’t say she knew all the people in the band. Life, her own band—there hadn’t been time to get to know them when they passed each other at award shows. She fumbled her phone out of her pocket, but almost didn’t want to look away.

  But her curiosity won. She quickly typed in Brooklyn Dawn and got their wiki page. “Oz Taylor.”

  “Isn’t he fucking awesome?” The girl beside Jules was practically vibrating in her seat. “I want him to be the father of my children.”

  Juliet’s lips twitched. “I hear you sister.”

  The girl looked away from the stage enough to actually look at who she was talking to and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. You’re—”

  Juliet held her finger up to her lips and winked.

  “And…” She peered around Jules to Molly. “I’m gonna die.”

  Jules patted the girl’s arm. “Only if you’re under that beast of a guy. Am I right?”

  The girl giggled and refocused her attention on the stage.

  By the time Jules looked up again there were two more platforms slowly moving down to converge on the stage. James DuCaine was on a glowing purple cube. Her badass dark hair flew around her shoulders as her head was thrown back and her soul came careening out of the guitar. Red leather hugged her whip-lean body and wicked black boots climbed her endless legs.

  Molly elbowed her. “I swear I’m not into chicks, but I’d marry her.”

  “I could be into chicks. I didn’t think I was into two guys before Tris and Randy.”

  Molly held up a hand and they slapped high fives again.

  The girl next to Jules was curled into herself practically rocking. “I can’t believe you guys are so fucking cool.”

  Sure she seemed cool now, but in about three hours she’d have spit up on her PJs and a hungry baby reminding her why corsets weren’t meant for new mothers. For now, she’d take the compliment and wear her badassery like the badge it used to be.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Molly’s voice rose. “Why don’t we have a setup like this?”

  Jules turned back to the stage. A massive purple blinged out Baby Grand came out of the floor with Lindsey York at the keys. She was half on and half off the bench. A gossamer fine skirt trailed down her crazy perfect legs as she brought every fan to their feet—including them.

  Lindsey was just as blinged out as her piano. Her skin was draped with her signature body jewelry. Diamonds and amethyst tonight. If that was the only remarkable thing about the singer of Brooklyn Dawn it might be enough in this pop world, but it so wasn’t.

  Lindsey’s voice soared to the rafters and blended with her passionate dance of fingertips down the keys. James—their badass lead guitarist—was a completely different animal on stage. She was snarky and sometimes cutting in conversations, but with a guitar in her hand there was nothing but pure love. The song was soulful and bluesy to counterbalance the powerhouse vocals that came out of Lindsey.

  Once the pieces of the stage came together Juliet finally noticed the drummer on risers twice as high as Mal sat on. This guy was a little leaner than their beast and seemed to be having a bit more fun that Mal did. No less talented but wow, what a difference. Jules looked down at her phone. His name was Cooper Dallas. She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t met him before, but mercy he was a fine specimen of male.

  He didn’t even bother with a shirt or a vest.

  He was all tan and powerful with a closely cropped head of dark hair, but what she noticed most was the smile. The guy hadn’t stop smiling once.

  James stepped off her platform and met Lindsey in the center of the stage as the song changed into another. The fans went into a rioting frenzy and sparks pinwheeled from behind the drums.

  Jules instantly cowered back into her seat as flashbacks bombarded her. Sparks flying, smoke thick in the room. Chaos and screams. So many screams.

  “Jules.” Molly shook her. “Jules? Are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes to Molly’s worried gaze. She had her hand on the back of Juliet’s neck. They touched foreheads for a moment and Jules nodded. The memories scuttled back into their dark corners. She knew they’d find her in dreams tonight, but for now they were back in their respective shells.

  The bass line. She’d concentrate on the bassline. That made sense to her. She found it in the middle of the chaos, in the middle of the melody and the backbone of the song course corrected her brain. It was what she understood, what she lived for once upon a time.

  And she would again, goddammit.

  She stood up straighter and the stage came back into focus. The overhead screens weren’t coming down, everyone was safe. And the fans were having a good time.

  Which is what she was going to do.

  She lifted her arms with the rest of the crowd as one of their early hits, “All I Wanted” thundered into the arena. Jules centered herself by looking out at the sea of faces. There were a few people on their phones, a few more worried about their beers than the music, but for the most part all eyes were front and center.

  Song after song reminded her of Warning Sign and the way they came together on stage. How the chemistry couldn’t be created—it had to be earned. It had to be built.

  James and Zane, their other guitarist, played back to back in a watery, graceful riff-off. Dueling fretwork was the spotlight for a long intro. Then Lindsey came out of a smoky corner of the stage. She’d had a costume change. A spider web of lace and onyx stones hugged her calves and twined up her legs in a bodysuit that hugged every curve of her body.

  Her voice was pure sin. Husky and yet clear as a bell. The show slowed down with a few spotlights on the band. Immediately phone torches and lighters glowed like starlight through the arena. It was haunting and beautifully simple.

  God, she wanted that again.

  The unity on that stage reminded her so much of her own band and what they’d just started to become before they’d nearly lost everything. Dammit, they could be this again.

  It wouldn’t be the same.

  It wouldn’t be even remotely the same, but it would be them. It could be something different. Maybe someday something better.

  It hurt to even think that let alone say it to anyone.

  But it did allow a kernel of hope to bloom in her chest. God, she’d thought it was going to stay empty, save for Joshua and Tristan. She thought she’d lost all the music inside her.

  If tonight was any indication, that wasn’t true.

  She swallowed down a lump that suspiciously felt like tears. She wasn’t going to go down that road. There was too much joy around them. So instead she swayed beside Molly as they enjoyed the rest of the show.

  Seventeen

  Jules waved goodbye to Molly and hurried into the house, walking carefully so that the sound of her heels didn’t echo. It was late. Super late. She definitely hadn’t intended to stay out this long on her first night out after having Joshua, especially since Tristan hadn’t been with her.

  Not that he needed to be with her twenty-four/seven, but she had figured their first night out post baby would be together. Doing something date-night ish. Like dinner at a fancy restaurant Tris did not manage—though no place lived up to his exacting standards—and going out to listen to music—though she critiqued every act they went to see—and hopefully, coming home to make out like teenagers before the babysitter had to go home and reality intruded once again.

  Instead, she’d spent the night with Molly, first at the Brooklyn Dawn show, and then after, grabbing a bite to eat at some new club on the Strip. There had been performers there too, but she’d been too relaxed to analyze much of what she’d heard or seen. Since she was pumping milk on the regular, she’d skipped the alcohol. Luckily,
she hadn’t needed any. It had been a damn long time since she’d gone out with a girlfriend and just had fun. Even if there had been a work component involved, it hadn’t felt that way. For a couple hours, she and Molly had just been carefree friends without jobs or responsibilities.

  As much as she’d liked letting loose and dancing at the show and then again a bit at the club, laughing and gossiping with Mol, reality had descended as the night waned. She missed her boy. Missed both her boys.

  She shut her eyes as the familiar hot wash of tears burned. Missed all three of her boys, but one she would never get back. No matter how much she yearned. If love could save someone, Randy never would’ve died.

  The house was disturbingly dark and quiet. Considering the time, Bess was probably sleeping in the guest room and Joshua would be out too. At least a little while longer. When he woke wanting his mama, she’d be there.

  Tristan obviously wasn’t home yet. It wasn’t unusual for him to not make it home until the middle of the night if they were short-handed at the restaurant or if they had a big event. She was still a little surprised he hadn’t texted her to warn her he wouldn’t be home when she got back, but then again, she’d been light on the check-ins herself.

  She’d meant to text him. Every time she’d been about to, she imagined him running around the kitchen, calling out orders, and she’d wondered if maybe he needed a night off too. Not from his job, but from her fussing at him as she tended to do far too often since—

  Just since.

  Now he wasn’t home and her head was spinning and she couldn’t quite bring the foyer into focus.

  God, she was so stupid. And silly. No wonder she’d hesitated to bother him. He probably couldn’t wait to get away from her harping.

  After having the baby, she’d done her best to transfer her smothering tendencies to her kid. That wasn’t particularly healthy either, but no one would question her worrying about her child. Tristan was a grown man. Perfectly capable of taking care of himself. So these past couple months, she’d been trying to hold in the excessive questions about where he’d be and when. With who. If where he would be was safe.

  Was anywhere safe? Deep down, she didn’t think so. Not anymore.

  She stripped off her wrap and dumped it in the front hall closet. No big deal. He was fine. It’s not as if someone had come into The Hollow and shot the place up. If something had happened, it would’ve been on the news. She would’ve gotten a CNN alert to her phone. And nothing.

  But this was why she didn’t know how to tell him about the tour. If he worried even a fraction as much about her as she did about him, her being gone so much would be beyond difficult. And not having her baby with her would probably kill her, but how could she ask Tristan to stay here alone while she went to play rockstar?

  Seeing Brooklyn Dawn tonight had shown her she wanted to play in their sandbox. She couldn’t lock down her desire to rock out on the same stages they were. It was a dream come true. For so long, Warning Sign had been waiting in the wings, and now the ideal opportunity had just tumbled into their laps.

  Except.

  So many exceptions.

  She rubbed her eyes and glanced at baby monitor on the table by the door, smiling faintly at the soft coos she could just barely hear. Joshua would be fully awake soon. And she’d be waiting for him.

  She’d just stepped onto the first step when the light in the living room popped on. She gasped and backed up, nearly falling off the step as she glanced over her shoulder at Tristan.

  Great. Now he’d probably attribute her clumsiness to being drunk.

  He was sitting in the big leather wingback chair, one leg bent over the other and his fingers forming a point as he tapped them together. “Hi there. Have fun?”

  For unknown reasons, she flushed. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong. She hadn’t even danced with anyone. Or so much as looked at another man. They didn’t exist for her. The only other man she’d wanted as much as Tristan was gone.

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  He made a show of looking at his watch. “An hour, give or take. Your son is sleeping peacefully, by the way.”

  Was she imagining the censure in his voice? She’d told him about her plans for tonight. It wasn’t as if she’d hidden anything.

  Except the fact she’d hit up the Brooklyn Dawn concert in the first place to scope them out for work, not just as a fangirl. Though now she was firmly in that camp as well.

  “I was just headed up. I heard him on the baby monitor.” Despite her uneasiness, she managed to smile as she walked into the living room. “That little coo he makes is adorable, isn’t it?”

  “The kid is pretty much adorable in all ways.” Tristan lowered his leg and sat forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. “When were you going to tell me you’re going on tour?”

  The dizziness was back tenfold.

  She sagged onto the sofa and resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands. “How did you find out?”

  From the way his gorgeous blue-gray eyes narrowed, that was not the way to begin. “Does it matter? All I know is that my wife didn’t tell me.” He frowned, and she wondered if the slip jabbed at him like it did with her.

  They’d committed to each other with Randy. It was as good as being married, except it wasn’t exactly the same. Before, it had been all they could have so they’d all accepted it and viewed it as the binding vow that it was for them.

  Forever and ever, amen.

  Now they could get married legally. But was it wrong? Excluding Randy even for this felt like a betrayal. But God, she ached for that piece of paper that would make it all seem just that much more real. Joshua already had Tristan’s last name, but she was eager for it too. She’d never believed she would be that woman who needed the usual trappings of marriage to be happy, and she didn’t. But she wanted the proof of their commitment right down to her name. Needed that security just as much as she needed baby monitors in every room and a fancy alarm system and every protection she could put in place to keep her family safe.

  “Do you want that?” she whispered, unable to look at him. “Do you want me to be your wife?”

  “I thought you already were in all the ways that are important.”

  “I was. I am. But reaffirming that commitment now that there’s two of us…” She rubbed her forehead and shut her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.”

  “But it does.”

  She opened her eyes and zeroed in on him, hating that she couldn’t read a damn thing in his closed-off expression. “For you as well?”

  When he didn’t reply, she fisted her hands. “Dammit, Tris, why won’t you talk to me?”

  “Why won’t I talk to you?” He let out a dry laugh. “You’re the one who snuck off tonight for a concert and stayed out far later than I expected without texting. You had to know I’d worry.”

  “Snuck off? I told you I wanted to go to a show with Mol. What part of that is sneaking?”

  “You didn’t mention whose show it was, or that you weren’t just going out with a friend to have fun. You were checking out the band you’re going on tour with. Across the fucking States, Jules.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet. Not officially. That’ll be this week. I mean, we’ll talk about who’s in and who’s out.”

  “You went to Brooklyn Dawn’s show. You know you’re in. They’re amazing, and you’ve been chomping at the bit to get back on stage. Christ, just look at you. You’re every bit a rockstar.”

  She rubbed the black cord necklace around her throat. She’d made the effort to get dressed up tonight, even if it had felt weird. Knee-high boots, leggings, black corset-type top that nearly killed her boobs, especially now that they were full of milk.

  He’d only seemed to notice what she had on just now. His eyes definitely weren’t dark with desire like they used to be when he focused on her. Or else it wasn’t only desire in them. He was pissed too.

  “It doesn’
t feel natural anymore. It’s not the same. Nothing’s the same, especially not me.” She reached up to tug out the pins in her hair and the thick, wavy strands tumbled around her shoulders. “I was like a kid playing dress-up tonight. I barely even wiggled into this freaking top. I have another ten pounds to lose—”

  “You look fucking gorgeous. Every ounce of you is just right. If it were up to me, you’d stay exactly as you are.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I still imagine how you looked pregnant and fuck, it was the most incredible thing ever. You’ve never been more beautiful.”

  She took a shaky breath. “Everyone’s going to be looking at me. Analyzing. I don’t want to be one of those features in the gossip rags—did she get her pre-baby body back? Maybe I can’t hack that life anymore.”

  Maybe I don’t even want to.

  “Anyone who’d say shit about you is crazy and blind and jealous. You’re a rockstar, just like I said. Beautiful and badass and so talented that you know you belong on that stage.”

  His unswerving faith in her made her chest hurt. “If only I had that same belief in myself.”

  “You did. You will again. You’re just getting your sea legs back after the baby.”

  “It’s not just that. You know it isn’t. Everything’s different now.”

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Do you? He died on that stage with me. I was so close to him and I couldn’t save him, couldn’t do a damn thing. For the rest of my life, I’m going to relive the night I lost him—”

  “The night we lost him, Jules. Not just you. If you think you loved him any more because I didn’t have sex with him, you’re wrong. We both had to learn to live without him. To figure out who we are in his absence and how we can go on.”

  “You weren’t on stage with him when it happened. You don’t know how that felt. The idea of going out every night and pretending everything is okay, that I’m okay, feels like the worst kind of lie. And maybe I’ll never be okay.”