Piper: A Last Score Spin Off

by K. L. Shandwick

  Piper

  A Last Score Spin Off

  K.L. Shandwick

  Copyright © 2018 K.L. Shandwick

  All rights reserved.

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, band names and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or names are used within the fictitious setting. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, band names or locales are entirely coincidental unless quoted as artists.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  The End

  Other Titles by K.L. Shandwick

  About the Author

  Find K. L. Shandwick on Social Media

  Acknowledgments

  Editor: Andie.M. Long Editing & Proofreading

  Cover Design: by Francessca Wingfield

  Cover Images: Anuki @ A.Chumburidze Photography and K.L. Shandwick

  Cover Model: Joseph Wareham

  Beta Readers: Elmarie Pieterse, Sarah Lintott, Donna Trippi Salzano

  Proofreader: Lisa Perkins, Sue Noyes

  This book is a work of fiction, Names, places, characters, band names and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or names are used within the fictitious setting. Any resemblance to actual person’s living or dead. Band names or locales are entirely coincidental. All artists quoted are in context of this fictional setting.

  Prologue

  Piper

  You only get one life. Period. Living it the way you want comes down to how willing and able you are to make it happen. You have to want something enough for it to become a need.

  What I desperately wanted, I craved so much; it became living matter inside me. Every day it continually gnawed away at my gut, creating a feeling of driven angst inside.

  Life hadn’t been easy so far, but then again, I’d never known anyone who didn’t have rough patches in life. Personally, I never truly lived until I came to Dignity House.

  Before then I had merely existed. Since that time I had become a survivor with an innate knowledge deeply embedded in my brain from my time at home. Back then I felt lucky to survive—and felt I was meant for nothing more.

  Unafraid at the thought of hard work, I had strived for my place in this world and with the incredible opportunity fate had thrown into my lap, my new life was definitely all about change.

  For this I owed a debt of gratitude to the memory of my mom to live my life exactly how I wanted, regardless of how others thought it should be lived, and to make sure I used my freedom to make my own decisions.

  If I’d known having guts would have led me this far, I’d have pushed my mom sooner… harder. Then again, maybe if we had found the courage to leave at any other time, I would not have landed as soundly on my feet as I did.

  Never in a million light years did I think for one minute the pendulum of hope I had clung to would have swung me in the direction of Gibson and Chloe Barclay.

  Growing up in a hostile environment full of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, was infinitely oppressive. Colin, my mother’s partner, reserved the right to his sole opinion and ruled us with fear; but fate intervened in the guise of a simple pamphlet offering help, and now my life could not be more different.

  Loved and cherished, my life since then has been full of privilege and rights, where freedom of expression is not only encouraged but expected.

  Every last one of the people who watch over me are protective and caring and expect nothing in return. Teaching me how to treat one another with respect, to value myself, and helping me learn to value the opinions of others. Most importantly, they taught me how to respect and protect myself.

  Knowing me well became part of my problem because it gave me the challenge to convince those I valued and loved that I was mostly healed and more than capable of striking out on my own.

  For the majority of the time I stayed with the Barclays I was quiet—still shy in some ways—and if I’m honest, a little mindful of the world I had grown into. But as time went on, I learned to open up when surrounded by the people I trusted, or the time when I could care less who stood in judgment—when I sang.

  Mom always said the more you practiced something the less feared it would be, and I had begun to see her point when it became certain the only way I would overcome fear would be to face my insecurities and fight them.

  “If you were mine. I wouldn’t be happy to let you go out there on your own,” Simon voiced, in his lazy dulcet tone. I scowled with narrowed eyes because he had supported what Gibson had said.

  Obviously, I knew this reaction would be a possibility. Who was I kidding? I was sure Gibson had felt it was a slap in the face I had chosen to go with a small indie record label instead of the vision he had in his head for me.

  It wasn’t that I was being rebellious or anything. Most people would have paid a fortune to have a seasoned rock star on their side, and I more than most should have been a people pleaser where Gibson was concerned. Why? Because Gibson was my hero.

  When he agreed to be my legal guardian prior to my eighteenth birthday I was speechless, lost in mourning, and eternally grateful. There were no words to describe how much love was stored in his huge soft heart, hidden behind his tough exterior.

  Since then, he’d done all and anything he could think of for me, making sure my life ran as smooth and stress free as was humanly possible. Until this.

  Fighting the rising anxiety, I watched a tight line immediately form across Gibson’s mouth and my chest tightened. I knew before I voiced my choice he wouldn’t be happy with the decision I had made.

  One glance and I knew he was majorly pissed. Anger radiated from his tense upper body toward Simon instead of at me. Gibson had missed the point that Simon’s comment was in agreement with what he, himself, had said.

  “Keep the fuck out of it. She’s not yours, and never will be,” he snapped back. Fragile nerves still at play inside me made my body jump at his raised tone and I stared anxiously as he gave Simon a dark pointed glare.

  Cocking his head to one side, Gibson looked toward me, winced and frowned. My heart ached at the sad expression on his face. Not
ing my stiffened frame, his eyes softened, and he breathed in deeply before he sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

  None of what was happening between us was Simon’s fault. It was Gibson’s reaction to my future plans that had made Simon the target for his frustrations.

  I knew Gibson thought he knew best… and even though I had considered that maybe he did, I wasn’t prepared to surrender to what Gibson had in mind for me and my career.

  Although I called Gibson by name, he and I viewed each other as father and daughter since I had no other. Always ready with a hug and a chat, I’d usually felt safe and protected by him; but the edgy vibe he gave off was different whenever his bandmate Simon was around. I had no idea why.

  Sometimes I wondered if Gibson felt threatened by Simon because I tended to agree with Simon more than I did with him. Then again, Gibson viewed my decisions from the perspective of a parent instead of a potential peer like Simon did.

  My eyes glanced nervously between the two men and I wondered why Simon didn’t argue back. Given he knew Gibson better than me, I knew he must have had his reasons. Instinct had taught me Gibson was nearing a meltdown when he had stopped shouting and sat in silence.

  Glancing at Simon’s impassive stance, I realized Simon thought if he said anything else there was a distinct possibility the situation would become more inflammatory.

  Witnessing the quiet stand-off between the two men wasn’t easy, and for the first time since my mom and I had sought sanctuary at Dignity I felt anxious in the company of a man.

  Eventually, Gibson braced his hands on the table, pushed his kitchen chair back and stared directly into my eyes. I steeled myself in defense as adrenaline pumped through me in anticipation of what he had to say.

  Quietly, he stood and ran both hands through his hair again before dropping them to his thighs with a helpless slap. A long sigh relaxed his shoulders like he felt defeated and he turned away from me.

  Shaking his head, he strode over to the refrigerator and yanked hard on the door handle. My eyes darted to Simon who was watching him, before he stole a secret glance in my direction. With a wry smirk he raised his eyebrow in a ‘what’s with him’ kind of way.

  Feeling shy, I rolled my eyes, my heart pumping rapidly in my chest—part with anxiety and part excitement from staring at Simon—when he flashed me a sexy smile and winked. Instantly, my heart flipped over and I took a second to relish in how handsome he was.

  Allowing my eyes to tick over his face, a shot of euphoria rushed through me, leaving me shaky and my thoughts little muddled after our innocent little non-verbal secret conversation.

  When I realized I was still staring, I noted his eyes were locked in a gaze neither of us appeared willing to break. Something about the way he looked at me had changed.

  Electricity shot through my body right to my core and left me breathless. Then I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing.

  Another attack of shyness gripped me, and I was instantly self-conscious of his scrutiny. Now you’re just being stupid, Piper.

  Cross with myself, I sat waiting for Gibson to speak, to break our gaze which was becoming uncomfortable. The thrill of what I was imagining passing between Simon and I, left me buzzing as I continued to be mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

  When I could no longer stand it, I lowered my gaze. Fortunately, the glass of wine I had been drinking earlier was still half full. Taking it between my hands, I focused intently on my glass like it was suddenly the most fascinating liquid in the world as I fought to hide the effect our encounter was having on me.

  In truth, I had a big ‘thing’ for Simon McLennan, Gibson’s bandmate from M3rCy. It was obviously a ‘stupid’ thing because not only was he twelve years older and the most stunningly handsome, sexy as sin guy in the world, he had also been linked to most of the beautiful, high profile, and influential women in the world of celebrity.

  There wasn’t the slightest possibility a man like him would be remotely interested in anything I had to offer. Jesus, Piper get a grip. So, what he smiled and winked. How many women have dropped their panties for him with that move?

  I swore that given my limited experience of boys, I was prone to foolish ideas about exploring my sexuality with someone like Simon. I scoffed at the thought, and both Gibson and Simon’s eyes darted toward me. When I said nothing, another silence stretched between us all.

  Ever since I’d lived with Gibson and Chloe, Simon had been a regular visitor to their home. It felt odd he had chosen to spend so much time with Gibson, but not having a girlfriend, I expected he felt at a loose end sometimes.

  It suited me to have him around, and I was surprised at how kind, caring, and patient he and Gibson were at helping me cultivate an original sound, and encouraging me when I said I wanted to make a career of it.

  Most aspiring singers would have given all that they had for the incredible opportunity to learn from the very best.

  Gibson Barclay and Simon McLennan from M3rCy were my very own captive audience at home. However, sometimes, it had felt like a curse on the occasions one or the other of them ripped apart what I was most proud of.

  Ultimately, I accepted their advice in regard to my music because they knew infinitely more about being paid to make music than me.

  Trading secrets for success, Gibson and Simon had given me most of the tools necessary to succeed in my quest for a sustainable career in the music business.

  From kindergarten to date, it was the one skill I had paid particular attention to, and it had been my saving grace in the darkest of times.

  A wave of bittersweet memories of my mom’s sad life reminded me how that bastard Colin took her music away to control her, but it hadn't prevented her from instilling a love of music in me, and I was prepared as I’d ever be to put my music to the test.

  Trusting Gibson Barclay had been a huge gamble because I'd been left terrified of men. Yet as huge and powerful as Gibson was, I trusted him and Chloe much quicker than I ever expected I would. As time passed, I knew Gibson was the one man who would never fail me.

  From that point, he had my utmost respect. I owed the man my life. It was the main reason I wanted his blessing and understanding as to why I had decided not to take his offer when I knew all he ultimately wanted was the very best for me.

  Being on the right side of Gibson’s protection sometimes came at a price. Like my relationship with Simon.

  At first, I thought when Gibson interjected in our conversations it was cute; like he was a tad jealous of Simon growing close to me. I almost told him once I loved him as a father figure and Simon would never be his competition.

  One night prior to another visit from Simon, my view on things changed when I accidently overheard Gibson telling Chloe she had to watch Simon around me. I was only two steps away from being within their sights and I stopped in my tracks.

  Tuning in to Gibson’s clipped tone I heard him say, “I fucking hate it.” There was a pause in the conversation. “You know what he’s like, darlin’. He destroys women,” he scoffed. “It pains me to say it, and I love the guy to death, but I’ll kill the fucker if he makes a move on her.”

  “Gibson, stop it. You’re overreacting. Calm down, or you’ll give yourself an ulcer,” Chloe said in a flat tone, “And keep your voice down, Piper will hear you,” she added, more urgently.

  “Keep my voice down? What the fuck? I’d rather she was clued in.” I heard his heavy feet pacing and imagined how annoyed he would look doing that, “Trust me he’d have that pretty little peach flat on her back and be balls deep inside her before she knew what was happening, given half a chance.”

  My jaw dropped, and I covered my mouth with my hand as my heart banged in my chest. Even though no name was mentioned, I instinctively knew he was talking about Simon with regards to me.

  Hearing him talk in such crude terms shocked me to my core. Hurt and embarrassed, I continued to eavesdrop as Chloe and Gibson discussed whether I was
a virgin. I felt mortified to hear them talk about intimate details concerning me. He then asked Chloe to warn me off Simon and guys like him.

  “I’ve seen first-hand how he treats women and trust me he’s fucking barbaric.” Shock jolted my heart at Gibson’s description of his friend; the words he used were horrible. “He’s a horny asshole with low morals, and I hate her being around him,” he continued in his gravelly voice that barely contained his anger.

  Even though I had done nothing wrong, I felt ashamed at his words. Dread settled in my belly. How can I face any of them knowing what Gibson thinks?

  How am I supposed to behave casually around the two men I had placed my trust in, given Gibson’s assessment of what Simon is?

  From my perspective, I wasn’t the only one fantasizing about Simon. Gibson was talking nonsense. I figured he had to be.

  How could he believe a worldly man like Simon would have the slightest interest in me? The plain, small-town girl who had been brought up in restricted circumstances? I sure as hell didn’t.

  At twenty years of age, I knew there were certain life skills and rights of passage I had totally skipped. I knew this made me seriously deficient with social situations and the opposite sex, but I was only twenty and figured I had plenty of time to catch up.