by HELEN HARDT
What a fucking mess.
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to regret saving my brother that day. I regarded him now, mentally and physically fit, a business owner, an artist.
A damned good man.
He didn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess I had created.
“Did you ever wonder how I made it in rock and roll so quickly?”
“Of course not,” my mom said. “You made it because you’re so talented.”
Always a mom. Always singing my praises. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.”
“She’s not blowing smoke up your ass, Jer,” Ty said. “Your voice is amazing. It always has been. I used to be jealous as hell of you.”
He wouldn’t be jealous for long. Pretty soon my big brother would hate me.
“Thanks, Ty. But there are thousands of vocalists in LA, many more talented than I am, who never make it.”
“So you got lucky,” Mom said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing’s wrong with that. But believe me, what happened with Zeb and me isn’t that simple.” I heaved a sigh. “I met a woman. An heiress. You’ve probably heard of her. Alicia Hopkins.”
“Of course we’ve heard of her. You were splashed all over the tabloids with her a few years ago. We’d have to be blind not to have noticed.”
“Just so you know, there’s nothing between Alicia and me.” Nothing except nasty sex. Which to me was nothing. Nothing at all.
“Of course, Jeremy,” Mom said. “She’s way too old for you.”
“Too much of a catty bitch for you too,” Ty agreed.
How he knew that I had no idea, and I wasn’t about to ask questions. Not when I was about to destroy his life.
I cleared my throat. “Zeb and I met up with her and she made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. She funded our entrance into rock and roll, made us into stars, but she asked something in return.”
They both stared at me blankly. How could I say this to my mother?
“We had to be at her beck and call for…sex. Whenever she wanted. For as long as she wanted. We could be with whoever we wanted as long as we were there when Alicia called. Which meant we could never fall in love.”
My mother went pale.
Tyler touched her arm. “This is not a big deal, Mom. He’s talking about LA.”
“He’s talking about selling his body, Tyler.”
I hadn’t expected her to take this well. She was my mother, after all. But the worst was yet to come.
“That’s the least of it,” I said. “She seemed to like me better than Zeb, and she got kind of possessive. When I tried to pull away from our original agreement, she found a way to make sure I never strayed.”
“Did she blackmail you?” Tyler asked.
“She did.”
“What did she have on you?”
Though I squeezed my eyes shut, a tear ran down my left cheek anyway. Fucking pansy. “She did some digging. She found out about you and Harley Massey, and that I was your alibi. So she dug some more, and she got some high-priced PI to find evidence that you were at Harley’s that night.”
“What evidence?”
“A hair that was found at the scene. A blond hair.”
“She’s lying, of course,” my mother said.
I shook my head. “She’s not. That’s not how Alicia operates. I saw the hair strands, and she let me take one of them to a lab for DNA analysis. I gave the lab a lock of my own hair, and asked if the blond hair came from my sibling. I don’t need to tell you what the results were.”
“She could still be lying. She could have gotten Ty’s hair from somewhere else and paid the PI to tell you it was found at Harley’s. Wouldn’t they have tested the hair after the…incident?”
“No. They wouldn’t have thought twice about it because I had an alibi,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “None of this is your fault, Jer.”
My level-headed brother was a far cry from the crazy-eyed maniac I’d found the night of Harley’s death. I’d done the right thing, damn it. I’d given my brother a chance at the life he deserved. He was a good man.
“Ty, I’m not going to let you go down for this. I’m not going to let any of us go down for that piece of sludge Harley Massey. If you hadn’t killed him, someone else would have.”
“Don’t say it like that,” my mother said, biting her lip.
She never could use the word kill, or murder, instead calling that night “the incident.” My poor mother was about to get a heavy dose of reality if Alicia Hopkins had her way.
“The phone call you got was a warning to me, Mom. A warning to me to stick to my agreement with Alicia, or she’d make the evidence she has public.”
They both stared at me, eyes wide, faces pale.
The next words were difficult to say.
“She seems to think I might default. That I won’t be her puppet any longer.”
“Why would she think that?” my mother asked.
I sighed. “I’ve met a woman.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Heather
Zane’s house was even more ridiculously decadent than Jett’s. We didn’t spend much time in the house, though, as the party was taking place in his amazing backyard, complete with swimming pool and giant hot tub. A maid quickly led us through the abode and out back.
A table filled with oysters on the half shell and tropical fruit was elaborately set up on his wraparound redwood deck. Men and women alike frolicked naked in the pool and hot tub. And of course there were plenty of women making out in the middle of everything.
A stage was set up, but the band members weren’t on it. I spied Bernie Zopes in the hot tub with a blond groupie, but I didn’t see Zane or Tony.
Or Jett.
He could be anywhere. Even up in one of what I was sure were myriad bedrooms on the second floor of Zane’s mansion.
I couldn’t go there. I wanted so much to have faith in what Janet had told me—that Jett was somehow different with me. That he might have true feelings for me.
I’d shared with him a part of me that I hadn’t shared with anyone—something I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to share with anyone.
I had no regrets. Only sadness that I might never experience anything with Jett again.
Janet and Lindy disrobed quickly and joined in the fun. Susie wasn’t quite as eager, but she did remove her red halter top. I’d seen her naked many times. We were roommates, after all. But seeing her breasts bouncing at what was likely to become an all-out orgy freaked me out a little. I really didn’t want to witness her having sex. Too weird.
But before I knew it, she pulled on my arm. “Come on! Let’s go swimming!”
In barely an instant, she’d shed her shorts and flip-flops and dived into the pool.
Leaving me standing there at the edge, fully clothed, looking like an idiot. Might as well go swimming. My body was as good as the rest of these women’s were, and it had all original parts.
I bent down to undo the strap on my sandals, and—
“Shit!”
I tumbled into the lukewarm pool, my mouth wide open.
I came up choking as a masculine hand reached toward me. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you like that.”
I took his hand and climbed out of the pool, my clothes dripping wet and my straightened hair already forming those dreaded ringlets that would turn to frizz as soon as they dried.
I hadn’t even looked to see who he was when he said, “I’m Zane Michaels.”
I looked into his eyes. Yes, he certainly was. Gorgeous Zane Michaels. The ultimate rock pretty boy.
But he was no Jett Draconis.
“Hey, I recognize you,” he said. “You’re the one Jett jumped off the stage to save the other night.”
I opened my mouth to say something, I wasn’t sure what, but only a choke came out.
“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “Just swallowed some water. I’m fi
ne.”
“I’m really sorry. Come on into the house. We can put your clothes in the dryer.”
He didn’t mention what I might wear in the meantime.
I followed him into the house where he led me to the most luxurious laundry room I’d ever seen. It was like a mini laundromat with two industrial frontload washers and two dryers. How much laundry did Zane Michaels have?
“My laundress has the day off, but hopefully I can figure this out.”
Apparently enough to employ a “laundress.” Was that word even used anymore?
More so than when I’d visited Jett’s home, I was now aware of just how much money the members of Emerald Phoenix actually made. Sadness swept through me. This only illuminated the sheer differences between Jett and me. We truly lived in different worlds.
“So where’s Jett tonight?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Haven’t seen him, but I’m sure he’s here somewhere. We’re doing a casual concert at midnight, and he knows he needs to be onstage outside a half hour before that.” He eyed a clock on the wall. “And that’s in fifteen minutes.” He stared at me. “So are you going to take your clothes off?”
I wrapped my arms over my chest to hide my hard nipples. “Sure. Do you…have something I could put on?”
“Why? Everyone’s naked anyway.” He made no move to leave.
“You want me to just undress. Here. In front of you.”
“Sugar pie, if you think I can’t see your whole body through those wet clothes, think again.”
And still, he didn’t move.
“I guess I’ll just wear wet clothes, then.” I turned.
He quickly blocked the door. “Hey, don’t be like that. I’ll find you something.” He sorted through a basket full of laundry, pulled out an Emerald Phoenix T-shirt, and sniffed it. “Smells clean. You can put this on.” He held the shirt out to me.
It was big and would probably cover all of me. Good enough. “Now, if I could have a minute of privacy please?”
He chuckled and turned his back. “Sure, babe.”
I undressed and put on the T-shirt as quickly as I could since I didn’t trust him not to turn around and sneak a peek. Jett spoke highly of him and his talent, but I didn’t know the man at all. He didn’t turn around, even though his back quivered slightly with what I assumed was laughter.
Asshole.
“Okay,” I said once I was safely robed in the T-shirt, which hung halfway to my knees, thank goodness.
He turned and threw my wet clothes into one of the dryers. “Looks like it’ll take about a half hour. Your clothes will be dry in time for our concert, though I warn you, every other woman here will be naked by then.”
I couldn’t think of anything intelligent or snarky to say to that, so I said nothing.
Didn’t matter anyway, because he kept talking.
“You know, I’ve known Jett a long time, and I’ve never seen him so enraptured by a woman.”
Enraptured? Not really a word I expected to hear out of rocker Zane Michaels’s mouth. Classical pianist Zeb Frankfurter’s? Maybe.
“Jett told me how you guys went to school together.”
“So you know we’re well-educated musicians, huh?” He laughed.
“What’s so funny about being well-educated musicians?”
“Nothing. Rock and roll is its own kind of art. It’s just not what either of us ever thought we’d be doing.”
“Do you have regrets?”
“Are you kidding? Look at how I get to live. Hell, no, I don’t have regrets. But Jett’s another story.”
“What do you mean? Does Jett have regrets?”
“Not about getting into rock and roll.” He cleared his throat. “Look, I’ve said too much, but I feel like I should say one more thing.” He paused.
Had he changed his mind?
Then, “If Jett decides not to have a relationship with you, it’s not because he doesn’t want to.”
I widened my eyes as tingles erupted all over my still-damp skin. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean exactly what I said. And that’s all I can say.”
“Zane, no. That’s not fair.” After what Janet had said…and now this… Was it truly possible that Jett had feelings for me? And that, for some reason, he couldn’t act on them?
Zane moved toward the door. “Sweetie, that’s all I can say. And you look fucking hot in my shirt, by the way. If it weren’t for Jett, I’d be all over you.” He left.
I was oddly flattered by Zane’s comment, but more intrigued. From what I knew of Zane Michaels, if he wanted a woman, he went for it. If he wanted me but was leaving me alone because of Jett…
Elation filled me.
I looked up at the clock. Only about a minute until the band would take the stage.
I’d see Jett.
I ran back outside.
Zane, Bernie, and Tony were on the outside stage with a few tech people. They’d all removed their shirts, and their bare chests were sights to behold. Nothing compared to Jett, of course, but still…
“Testing,” Zane said into one of the mics. “Hey, J, we’re ready to rock and roll! Get over here!”
I looked around, expecting to see Jett push through the crowds to get onstage.
He didn’t appear.
People began to chatter, wondering where he was, when a woman forced herself onto the stage and took the mic from Zane.
I gasped. Alicia Hopkins. I hadn’t even known she was here. This certainly wasn’t her kind of scene. Or was it? Janet was convinced she had lied to me about Jett staging the bomb threat. Damn. I should have asked Zane about that while we were talking.
She had some kind of strange interest in Jett.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alicia said into the mic, “I’m sorry to tell you that Jett Draconis won’t be performing this evening.”
My heart lurched. Was Jett okay?
Huge cries of “Boo!” rose through the air.
“You may not be seeing him for a while,” she continued. “Rumor has it that—”
Zane grabbed the mic out of Alicia’s hands and he must have turned it off. He spoke to her, and it didn’t take a genius to tell from his body language that he was mad as hell.
Alicia rushed off stage.
“No need to worry,” Zane said into the mic. “Jett is fine, but unfortunately he’s not here this evening. Luckily, I have a pretty darn good set of pipes myself, so I’ll be doing the leads and Tony here will take over on lead guitar. You all ready to rock and roll?”
The crowd cheered as the band began.
I walked back into the house and got my clothes out of the dryer. They were still slightly damp, but they’d do. I texted Susie—my phone had survived the pool, thank goodness—to tell her I was leaving and then headed toward the door.
Until a hand grabbed my arm.
I turned and stared straight into Alicia Hopkins’s perfectly made-up face.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jett
“Are you in love?” my mother asked.
I closed my eyes. “Yes. I am.”
“And if you begin a relationship with this woman, this other woman will…” My mother sank her head into her hands.
I swallowed—or attempted to—the lump that had formed in my throat. “I won’t sacrifice you for anything, Tyler. I promise that. You either, Mom. I won’t pursue a relationship with Heather.”
“Heather. A beautiful name. What is she like?” My mother asked.
“She’s intelligent. And beautiful. And headstrong. And determined. She has a master’s in creative writing from Northwestern.”
“Sounds perfect for you,” Tyler said.
She is. But I didn’t say it aloud.
“I have an amazing career, and I have you guys,” I said. “I don’t need a relationship. You know me. I never saw myself as a husband or a father.”
I did now, though. God, did I. I never thought I’d want kids, but the thought of
a little girl and little boy with Heather’s auburn hair made me feel warm and gooey inside. I’d start them on guitar and piano as soon as their manual dexterity allowed, probably by age five. Maybe one would like to write like Heather. Maybe one would have a singing voice, like I did.
A beautiful fantasy. It would never be my reality.
My brother was saying something, but I hadn’t heard it.
“Well, Jeremy?” my mother said.
“I’m sorry. Say that again, Ty.”
“Have you tried talking to this Alicia? Can’t you reason with her?”
I laughed. “Reason with her? That’s not an option, Ty. This is a woman who always gets what she wants and enjoys playing with other people. She does it for sport. She’s never had to work a day in her life.”
“What if I went out to LA with you,” he said. “We could talk to her together.”
No way would I put my brother in touch with Alicia. He was doing well, and I wouldn’t risk his mental state.
“That’s not an option,” I said.
“Why not?”
“It’s just not,” I said with force.
Neither of them questioned me on that again.
“I’ve arranged for us to see an attorney here in Chicago tomorrow afternoon to talk about options. He comes highly recommended. I have plenty of money and will pay for the best attorneys for all of us. So at least we have that.”
“I can’t let you go down for something I did,” Tyler said. “I can’t.”
“We all did this, Ty,” my mother said. “Jeremy agreed to give you an alibi, and I agreed to keep the whole thing under wraps. We had clear heads when we went into it, and we knew what we were doing. It felt like the right thing at the time.”
“I wasn’t right in the head. If I had been, I wouldn’t have let you do it. Once I got mentally healthy, I considered going to the cops.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t allow it,” Mom said, her eyes protective and feral. “I begged him not to.”
I smiled at her and patted her hand. “Hey,” I said to Tyler. “I’ll never regret it. Look at you now. And we don’t know what will happen. It’s been almost seven years. It’s possible that Alicia is bluffing and won’t do anything. If I stay away from Heather, which I will, why would she? And even if she does, maybe the DA won’t prosecute. Or maybe the attorney can make a case for self-defense or something.” I turned to my mother. “And you’re the most innocent in all of this. All you did was keep a secret to protect both of your sons. You most likely won’t be prosecuted at all.”
