Risk Worth Taking: Music For The Heart - Book Three

by Faith Starr

  Yes! He missed the right corner pocket. Finally, I could do some damage.

  32

  Drew

  Trying to kill time, I flipped through various channels on the television, bored out of my wits. Classes started up again on Monday. A part of me couldn’t wait to go back. If anything, school would occupy my mind.

  For the most part, my parents left me alone all weekend. Eric had a blast on his date so asked the guy out again; therefore, I spent my Saturday night watching the tube. Logan had texted earlier that the video shoot ran late, and he didn’t know when he’d be finished.

  Nothing caught my attention on TV. I settled on an entertainment show, figuring I’d catch up on the celebrity lifestyles. Not that I cared, but it gave me something to do.

  With my pillow fluffed behind my head, I played with the remote. It fell out of my hand when the reporter said there would be some footage from the new Steam video shoot after the commercial break.

  My heart raced and I clapped my hands, cheering for Logan, so utterly proud of him. He had gained enough fame to land on an entertainment show. Wow. He had come so far. I couldn’t admire him more for never giving up on his dream.

  The commercials went on and on. It drove me bonkers.

  Impatiently, I waited for the show to resume. I raised the volume when the reporter came back on the screen.

  “Our very own Lorraine Whitaker is on location with the band Steam. They’re shooting their new video for their latest release, “Still Dreaming of You.” Lorraine is taking you live and behind the scenes.”

  The scene changed to one that resembled a movie set. Trevor sat behind his drum kit, Joey held his mic, standing in front of his keyboard, and my beautiful Logan held his guitar. I couldn’t wipe the goofy smile off my face at his devilishly handsome appearance.

  “I am here on the set of Steam’s steamy new video to give you a sneak peek.”

  The reporter played some footage of the guys jamming and shots of Logan with the actress he had mentioned to me. He had conveniently left out the part about her being a supermodel. I reeled in my jealousy until a scene flashed of him with his arms around her, the two of them making out. Logan held her leg against his thigh and gyrated against her.

  My mouth fell open. It felt like déjà vu. I knew the video portrayed a make-believe scenario but this, the acting too real for words.

  Tears flooded my eyes. I wanted to change the channel but couldn’t, aching to see the ending.

  I didn’t think it could get worse.

  But it did.

  “Logan Trimble, Steam’s guitarist, met up with me during the shoot.”

  The reporter sat opposite Logan, the two of them sitting face to face. She asked him questions about the new song and other trivial stuff.

  “There have been a few pictures floating around on the Internet of you and a mystery woman. Care to share?”

  Bitch!

  “I keep my private life private.”

  Thank you, Logan.

  “This new video is quite provocative. How does it feel working with model Jessica Hauser?”

  Why doesn’t she just jump on his lap and fuck him with her clothes on?

  I couldn’t be the only person on the planet who saw the reporter’s obvious flirtation and liking of Logan.

  He put his hand out. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.” He chuckled.

  Is he serious?

  The reporter giggled; a stupid fake one too.

  “I guess you got to be the lucky one.” She teased him.

  “You don’t hear me complaining one bit.”

  Excuse me? I picked up the remote that had fallen on my comforter and shut off the television. That was not my Logan. My Logan would never behave so pompously.

  So which was the real Logan? The one he showed me in private, or the jerk he portrayed on television?

  Resting on my side, I pulled a few tissues from the box on my nightstand, and cried into them. I couldn’t do this again. Seeing that news story only confirmed it. Logan would be on the road for weeks, months at a time, and I would see similar reports nonstop. After all, he had been depicted by the media as Steam’s bad boy. I wanted to kick myself for falling so hard so fast.

  The following night when he called, I let the call go to voice mail. I couldn’t speak about my feelings regarding the entertainment story over the phone. I had thought long and hard since seeing the interview. As much as I hated to admit it, my mother had been right. Logan lived his life on the road, in the fast lane, whereas mine belonged here in Boringville. How could I have been such a fool to believe it could ever work between us?

  The sad realization had me moping around, bringing my horrific mood with me to the clinic on Monday. My parents kept asking me about my depressed state. I wouldn’t tell them they were right, so I blamed it on my hormones, PMSing, the only excuse I could come up with to get them off my back.

  Logan would be returning later in the day. I knew he’d reach out to me when he got home. Luckily for me, I had a late afternoon class, which would last until dark. I prayed those three hours in school would help divert my attention from Logan Trimble because working at the clinic did anything but.

  Mia brought me the form for the patient my dad had just finished with. “I’m giving you a heads-up, the lady about to come up here is a cuckoo.” She gestured, her finger going in circles to indicate the lady was a mental case. We had our fair share of them.

  I giggled.

  “Laugh all you want. You’ll see.”

  Mia took off for the next exam room.

  While entering the patient’s information, I realized it was the woman with the Teacup Yorkie. Christ. I must’ve been in the bathroom when she checked in and didn’t recognize her name on the schedule.

  “How’s Logi?”

  She shook her head as in so-so.

  “Dr. Sanders indicated he wants to see him again next week because he lost a pound. Logi’s a small dog, so every pound counts. He also indicated that for now, he wants him on a special high-calorie diet. You can purchase the food here as a convenience or at a local pet store. It’s your choice.”

  “I’ll get it here. Just add it to my bill. Hey, did you happen to see the entertainment news this weekend? Seems your boyfriend is hooking up with Jessica Hauser. She fucks anything with a dick.”

  Disgust overtook her. I understood, I felt the same. Still, I hadn’t expected all of that to come out of this woman’s mouth. Mia was right when she called her a cuckoo.

  “I must’ve missed the story.” I had no intention of commenting on the subject. I had done a superb job of keeping my emotions in check in front of patients and didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good track record.

  “Oh yeah, his tongue was down her throat and he groped her perfect model frame.” Her eyes widened as she spoke. This woman didn’t hide how she got a kick out of digging the news into me.

  “If you’ll please excuse me, I’m going to go get Logi’s food.”

  Mia happened to be standing in the lab as I gathered a few cans from off the shelf.

  Sweet relief.

  “Can you please do me a favor and check out the nutcase up front? I’m going to explode if I don’t go to the bathroom.” My hands trembled when I handed her the dog food.

  “Are you okay?” Her brow furrowed with concern.

  “I’m fine. But I have to pee.” I tightened my legs together to add to the believability of my made-up story.

  She took the cans from me. I knew she didn’t believe my lie about being okay, but I didn’t care. The bathroom would provide me with a breather.

  Once in the confines of the small space, I splashed cold water on my face.

  What the hell was that all about with that crazy lady? She obviously took pleasure in seeing me squirm.

  Not wanting to run into her again, I hid out in the john for a few minutes, hoping she’d be gone when I returned to my desk.

  Damn. There she stood up front, chattin
g with Mia, who gave me a sideways glance, begging for me to rescue her. What about someone rescuing me?

  “Dr. Sanders needs your assistance, Mia.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She bolted like a bat out of hell, leaving me stuck with the looney toon and her Yorkie.

  “Did Mia check you out and schedule Logi’s follow-up appointment?” I got right down to business, eager to move her along.

  “Yeah. She and I were chatting about Logan too. She’s also a big fan. We’re so jealous of you. Although, I do know how great he is in bed.” She whispered the last part, shielding her words from others with her hand.

  “Excuse me?” I did a double take, unsure if I had heard her correctly.

  “He fucked me after a show one night. What a head rush, right? That man packs a punch.” She thrusted her hips forward and smiled at whatever crazy memory she currently relived in her demented mind.

  “If you don’t mind, I have a ton of work to attend to and patients to check in.” I clasped my hands together in front of me.

  “Oh, of course. Listen to me, blabbing on about bedtime stories with Logan’s new fuck buddy. I apologize.”

  I’d had it with this woman. “Please don’t refer to me as that, and please don’t speak about Logan to me anymore. This isn’t the place for it.”

  “We could meet for dinner or something?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the clinic.”

  My father would have my head if he knew I kicked a patient out of his office, but this lady had totally crossed the line.

  “It sucks hearing the truth, doesn’t it? You’ll see. He’ll toss you aside. He throws all of his beauties in the trash, me included.”

  Oh my God. This girl spoke in deranged stalker-fan mode. Logan had to be warned about her when I spoke with him. I’d had a gut feeling about this woman from the beginning. I also had to tell my father to discharge Logi as a patient. I didn’t want his owner ever stepping foot inside the clinic again. And I’d make sure he knew that if he refused my request, I wouldn’t be present when she came in for her visits.

  I rose and ushered her to the waiting room, where I called in the next patient.

  The whack-job stormed out of the clinic in anger. The incoming patient raised her brows. I breathed in acknowledgment that both of our thoughts were on the same page.

  My nerves were fried by the time I left for class. I’d have to wait until I got home later to discuss the unhinged patient with my father.

  Arriving a little early to the university gave me some time to chill. I sat on a bench outside my building and listened to music from my earbuds. The minutes ticked by.

  The three hours sitting in class passed by second by agonizing second. I could barely keep my eyes open while trekking to the parking lot. I checked my phone for any missed calls or messages, finding one text from Eric and three missed calls from Logan along with voice mails. I had silenced my phone during class.

  Logan: I’m home. Please give me a call.

  Logan: Hope everything’s okay. Tried calling you last night, but never heard back from you.

  Logan: Where are you?

  I shoved my phone inside my purse and continued toward my car. That was when I sensed an off-kilter presence behind me.

  I clutched my bag against my chest and picked up my pace. My mother begged me to carry mace, since she knew I walked alone on campus in the dark, but I kept shrugging her off. Wouldn’t you know it, she was right again.

  The footsteps behind me got louder as the person got closer. Panic set in. My hands shook and my heart beat a million miles per second.

  Get to my car. Get to my car.

  Left and right, I surveyed the area, trying to find someone I could approach for help. There was nothing but darkness and emptiness along with the tapping of feet behind me.

  Fuck!

  Naturally, on this night the lot was quiet. It had been so full when I arrived, I had no choice but to park in the boonies, far from the building where my class was held. Big mistake.

  I adjusted my keys in my grip to use as a weapon if necessary.

  The footsteps got closer.

  My heart pounded faster.

  I sped up.

  The footsteps got louder.

  I ran.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  Until I reached my car.

  What the hell?

  My windows had all been smashed.

  I spun around to see if the person I sensed lurked behind a car or something.

  Nope. Whoever had been following me had all but vanished, gone like the wind.

  Oh my God!

  The words Stay away from Logan Trimble were scribbled on the windshield in red lipstick.

  Hugging my purse, I took off running as fast as my legs would take me, back to the main campus. Many students were scattered about. My hands trembled too much to hold my phone steady. Two girls passing by stopped when they noticed my shaken state.

  “Please call the police.” My voice quivered, my entire body shaking from nerves.

  One of the girls agreed to stay with me until the police arrived. She put her arm around me, comforting me as best she could.

  “Do you want me to call anyone else?”

  Unable to think clearly, I closed my eyes. “Umm… My boyfriend.” Is he? Whatever.

  How I managed to find his name under my contact list, a miracle in itself with the unsteadiness of my hands.

  The thought came to me that if he showed up, his presence would create a mob scene due to his celebrity status. Again, whatever. I’d deal with the consequences later. I asked her to call him. I couldn’t talk, my mind and body in too much shock.

  I didn’t tell the girl the specifics about the message written on my car or about Logan’s true identity, that information irrelevant.

  She handed me the phone. “He wants to speak to you.”

  “Lo…gan…you’re…not…going…to…believe…what…happened.” My words were broken up between tears, and choppy breaths.

  “Where the hell are you? What’s going on?” I heard his distress.

  “I’m at school.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “No,” I snapped.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “The police are heading here now. We’ll talk after I leave campus, but it’s important for you to know what’s going on.”

  “You can’t call me in a panic and tell me we’ll talk later, especially if the police are involved. You’re freaking me out. I’m coming whether you want me to or not.”

  “You can’t. It involves the band. The publicity would be bad.”

  The girl standing next to me cocked her head to the side, eavesdropping on my conversation, getting more interested by the minute.

  “About the band?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to get into specifics now.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the fucking publicity it brings. You obviously need me right now, and I’m coming for you. Please tell me where you are on campus.”

  After informing him of my location, I disconnected the call and buried my face in my hands, sobbing because of this unexpected turn of events.

  33

  Logan

  My keys couldn’t get in my hand fast enough.

  I jumped in my car and took off for the university. I had no clue what was taking place or what the situation was. Drew hadn’t given me any indication as to why she’d been crying on the phone.

  My nerves heightened the closer I got to my destination. I vigorously tapped the steering wheel.

  A thought flashed through my mind about the stalker girl who had sent me the notes. The last letter Camilla received stated she’d met Drew.

  Fuck!

  I slammed my hand against the wheel, praying for my higher power to keep Drew out of harm’s way.

  Talk about a massive campus. Luckily, I saw several police cars in front of one of the buildings, their lights flashing. I illegally
parked next to them, hopped out of my car, and ran to Drew. She had no color to her, standing with another student.

  “Baby.” I reached for her.

  When she caught sight of me she buried her face in my chest, crying. I held her in my arms, resting my head on top of hers.

  “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

  “It was awful.” She cried harder.

  One of the cops addressed me. “You are?”

  “Logan Trimble.”

  His eyes went wide as did the girl next to us. A big smile took shape on her face.

  “Your name is the one scribbled on Ms. Sanders’ vehicle.”

  “Excuse me?” Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I should have told Drew about the psychopath on my tail.

  She dislodged herself from me enough to get in on the conversation.

  “I think I might have a clue about who did this.” I spoke in a quiet tone. Drew as well as the cops standing around us gave me their full attention. “I also want to file a police report.”

  Drew tilted her head to the side. “For what?”

  “I’ve received a few suspicious letters from a fan. My manager informed me that since no threats had been made, I didn’t have a case. I’d like to show you the letters.”

  “I’m sure you have a lot of fans, Mr. Trimble, whom you receive letters from on a regular basis. What makes you think the fan involved in this incident is the same one you’re receiving suspicious letters from?”

  “Because this fan specifically mentioned she had met my girlfriend.”

  Drew covered her mouth. “You never told me that.”

  “The latest letter came over the weekend while I was in New York. I planned on telling you when I spoke with you but haven’t had the chance until now.”

  She pushed me. “Oh my gosh, Logan! You should’ve told me as soon as you heard about it. That lunatic followed me in the parking lot and destroyed my car. What if she had tried to hurt me?”

  My head fell in shame because I couldn’t dispute her point. I should have continued to reach out to her until I’d gotten hold of her.