by M. H. Soars
“Well, we had a fight.”
“Is it serious? Are you breaking up?”
“For fuck’s sake, Bas. You sound like a fifteen-year-old girl.”
“Piss off.”
“I don’t know how to do this.” My confession comes out in a rushed breath.
“Do what? Be in a relationship?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not the best person to seek advice from.”
I sense a troubled tone in my friend’s voice, but I have my own shit to deal with right now.
“Do you feel like having a drink?”
“It’s not even noon yet.”
“So what?”
There’s a pause and I’m about to tell Bas to forget it, when he finally replies. “Yes, sure. Why the hell not?”
“I’ll be at your place in fifteen.”
I end the call. It never occurred to me to call Sebastian, but I’m glad it’s him I’m meeting. He will keep me in check, and maybe I can get him to give me some pointers about Saylor. What the fuck do I have to do for her to trust me?
SAYLOR
It goes without saying what happened in the morning killed any feeling of euphoria among our group. Tabatha and Remi are also pissed at me for not wanting to report the incident to the police. The only person who seems to understand is Sticks. I have the feeling she also carries a big secret and can relate to my predicament.
Allan doesn’t push the police issue, but he does ask a lot of questions which I’m sure he will report back to the PI he hired. I don’t have it in me to argue with him about it, at least not today. One particular question that gets stuck with me though is whether I believe my biological father is involved in those threats. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He’s a politician and in my book, they are all rotten.
Monni has made room in his busy schedule to personally take care of our look for the evening. The band is only performing one song, the duet with Oliver, and our stylist decided to put me in a softer, more romantic get up. It’s an off-white cropped top that leaves my midriff bare and a high-waist, billowing skirt of the same color with dual front splits that go high up the thighs, showing a lot of leg when I walk. Peach colored highlights were added to my hair which has been styled to perfection with soft curls going down my back. There’s nothing rock n’ roll chic about my look.
Oliver is making his rounds, talking to people and purposely avoiding me. I try to remain indifferent when women approach him to openly flirt. There’s been speculation in the media already about our relationship, but when did that ever deter skanks? I know not all of women who go after Oliver are sluts, but jealousy is running freely through my veins, and I can’t help the ugly thoughts popping into my head.
It’s not like I’m not receiving male attention on my own end, but I just smile and pretend to be interested in whatever the guys who come to talk to me are saying, just to be polite. I feel numb, not even getting the fangirl feels when artists who I have admired for so long congratulate me for my music.
A guy wearing gigantic headsets on his head and holding an iPad in his hand lets us know we are expected by the stage in five minutes. Oliver materializes next to me, placing a hand on my lower back and leaning down to whisper in my ear.
“Don’t be nervous.”
I turn to look at him, bringing our lips dangerously close. “I’m not nervous.”
Oliver’s eyes drop to my mouth and he swallows hard. “Good.” He takes a step back, looking at me intensely. I wish I could read his mind.
No time to dwell on it, our time is up. The girls and I take our places on the darkened portion of the stage, just like we rehearsed earlier, while the host says a bunch of gibberish to entertain the audience before introducing us. On cue, the band starts the intro part of the song. I don’t have my guitar with me, which makes me feel completely naked. The producers didn’t want any type of barrier between Oliver and me. This performance is supposed to be sexy, we’re invading each other’s space.
I’m afraid my voice will fail me when I sing the first verses alone while the spotlight is on me. But it comes out as it should, and with each verse, I gain confidence. Oliver enters the stage when we come to his part, and the audience goes wild. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a come-hither look. I forget about our fight. I forget we’re supposed to be mad at each other. All I feel in this moment is heat, desire, and love, so much love. It’s exactly what the song is about. Music can do that, transcend you to a better place.
Oliver stops behind me and curls his arm around my bare stomach, pulling me closer to him. Goose bumps erupt on my skin as he sings close to my ear. I forget there’s an audience, that millions of people are watching this on TV. It’s only about Oliver and me on the stage right now, how his touch makes my skin burn, how my heart is ready to burst out of my chest.
We sing the final verses looking into each other’s eyes, and I pour all of my feelings into those words. I want Oliver to know how much I love him, even if we’re done after tonight. My heart is beating at the speed of light and there’s a buzz in my ears. The song ends and the audience erupts into applause and whistles, but the world has ceased to exist. It’s only Oliver and me.
I’m taken by surprise when his arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me flush against his body for a full on, sexy as hell kiss. We weren’t supposed to do this, but hell if I’m going to fight it. The kiss doesn’t last more than a few seconds. I bet no one can mistake now that the chemistry, the sparks between Oliver and me, are one hundred percent real.
My face is in flames, but my mortification is meaningless when I read the raw desire in Oliver’s eyes and a ‘To-Be-Continued’ message in his gaze. I’m so ready to get out of here.
Thirty-Two
OLIVER
I kissed her on that stage in front of millions and I don’t regret one bit of it. Let the world know that Saylor Blue Carter is mine. That outfit Monni picked for her left me in a constant stage of semi-arousal the entire night. On that stage, my erection was full on. Even if the cameras didn’t show that to viewers at home, they captured the burning desire on my face, of that I’m sure. Fuck it. Let them see it.
In silent agreement, we leave the premises as soon as we are able to, and I hate we drove in separate cars. My cock is throbbing inside my jeans as I follow Saylor’s SUV taillights, wishing she would drive faster. I call her because I need to hear her sexy voice.
“Hey,” she says.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
“You just called me to say that?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“My cock is so hard, sugar. I can’t wait to plunge it into your sweet pussy.” There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line and that brings a grin to my lips. “Tell me how wet you are.”
“My panties are soaked.” Her voice is raspier than usual and I know desire is doing that. My cock twitches.
“Are you touching yourself, sugar?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck.” I open my zipper and free my rock hard erection. I need to find some release. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m stroking my clit. Hum, I wish it were your fingers gliding down there.”
“Soon, sugar, very soon.” I begin to pump my cock, spreading pre-cum over its length to make it easier.
“What are you doing, Ollie? Are you being naughty?” Her breathless voice comes through the speakers.
“You bet, sugar. I wish it was your mouth wrapped around my cock instead of my hand.”
“Oh, God. I’m coming,” she says and that drives me over the edge. I grunt and pump faster, the one hand on the steering wheel having to work extra hard to keep my car inside its lane. I work my cock until I make a mess out of my jeans. Totally worth it, though.
I slow down and take my gaze off the road for a split second to look for tissues. I’m not sure where we are exactly, but I’m glad the road is somewhat devoid of traffic. I snap my attention back to it w
hen I hear a car zap past me. It swerves sharply to the right, hitting Saylor’s SUV on the side and pushing it off the road before speeding away.
“What the fuck!”
Saylor’s car hits the gravel at full speed and I’m afraid it will spin out of control, but she manages to prevent that somehow, stopping the vehicle at an odd angle a few feet ahead. I hit the brakes and I’m out of my car in the next second while my heart feels like it’s going to burst through my chest.
“Saylor!”
The front side of the Range Rover took the brunt of the impact and when I open the driver’s door, all I see is the deployed airbag and Saylor’s unmoving form.
“No, no, no. Saylor, talk to me.”
I push the airbag out of the way and I’m glad to find Saylor’s eyes open. She has a gash on her forehead that’s bleeding a bit. Her gaze seems confused. I want to run my hands all over her body to make sure she’s okay, but I don’t know if it’s going to do more harm than good.
She turns her face to me slowly with wide eyes. “That car came out of nowhere.”
“It pushed you off the road on purpose.”
I try to keep my voice low, but the sudden anger pumping in my veins makes it difficult.
“Help me get out of here, please,” she says.
I do as she asks, and when she’s finally out of the mangled car, I hug her tight. It kills me to feel her body tremble, to see her so shaken up.
“We need to report this, sugar. Enough is enough.” Her body tenses up and she pulls back. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise, Saylor. That was an attempt on your life.”
She steps away from my embrace and walks back to my car, opening the passenger side door and getting in. I follow her, closing the door and turning to look at her. She stares ahead at her wrecked car.
“You can’t call the police, Oliver.”
“Saylor…”
She turns to me, “You can’t call them because I lied.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I lied about the attack. I wasn’t alone that day. I didn’t kill the monster who tried to rape me.”
“Who did?” I ask even though I have a feeling I know the answer already.
“Mandy did.”
I rub my face with my hand and stare at the road. “You lied to protect her.”
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with someone trying to kill you?”
“Remember that first note? It mentions Mandy. I tried to deny it at first. I convinced myself the ginger it was referring to was Connor not Mandy. But it has to be her. Someone out there knows our secret.”
“Do you think it could be your father?”
“I don’t know. But you see, that’s why I can’t go to the cops.”
I glance at Saylor again. My heart feels as heavy as it did when I was told Harry had died. I couldn’t save him, but I will do everything in my power to keep Saylor safe. I reach for the tissue box and slowly, I begin to clean the blood on her forehead.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I committed a crime, Ollie. I didn’t want to turn you into an accomplice.”
I stare into her eyes. I see bravery and the fierce will to protect. Saylor is a warrior, an Amazon, and the feeling I’m undeserving of her love comes unbidden. I lean over the console separating us and kiss her as gently as I can, while out of nowhere, my eyes prickle.
She moves closer to me, and if the car wasn’t so small, I would pull her across the console completely so she could sit astride me. We make do with what we have and keep exploring each other’s mouth as we have never done before, unhurried and reverently.
When we break apart minutes later, I don’t try to hide the tears that have rolled down my face. Saylor wipes them off with her thumb without saying a word. I take her hand and kiss her open palm.
“Move in with me.”
“What?” Her voice comes out as a squeak and I smile.
“You already spend most of the nights at my place anyway. Let’s make it official.”
Saylor keeps staring at me without saying a word and my heart takes off. Nervousness makes my mouth go dry. I’m a fucking lost cause when it comes to this woman.
“Okay.”
I shake my head because I can’t believe my ears.
“Just to clarify. That means, bringing all your stuff to my place, and dealing with my arsehole attitude twenty-four seven.”
Why are you trying to dissuade her from the idea, idiot?
She smiles. “Yes, I get the gist. You would make a terrible salesperson, you know?”
Thirty-Three
OLIVER
I tell Allan what happened after the show, at least part of it, because he needs to be aware of what’s going on. I’m keeping Saylor protected no matter what.
“Let me get this straight. We can’t call the cops and you can’t tell me the reason. So what am I supposed to do?” He crosses his arms and watches me through slits.
“Get the PI working around the clock. I want to know if Saylor’s arsehole father is behind it.”
Allan’s eyebrows shoot to the heavens. “You truly believe her own father would try to kill her?”
“He’s a politician, Allan. Those crooks are capable of anything. He has a lot to lose if his dirty secret comes to the surface.”
Allan’s gaze turns inward and he nods. “I’ll ask my guy to work exclusively on the case.”
“Good. I also want to hire security guards, not only for Saylor, but for everyone in the band.”
“Did you talk with Saylor about this? Did she agree?” He already knows how stubborn she can be.
“Not yet. But I will.”
Definitely not the answer Allan was expecting if the deep furrow of his eyebrows is any indication. He turns his gaze to the laptop and begins to type away.
“Now that you pulled that stunt during last night’s performance, we really can’t afford for you and Saylor to fight. Downloads of your single have gone through the roof on iTunes and the gossip sites are having a field day. It was a good marketing move, I gotta say.”
“That wasn’t a stunt meant for extra publicity,” I say through clenched teeth, annoyed that Allan would even imply what I did was for business reasons only.
“Well, it worked out that way. It’s all good really. I have received tons of emails and phone calls already. Everybody wants to know more about your relationship with Saylor. My contact at the CW is very interested in featuring a couple of Wreck of the Day’s songs in their shows.”
I just nod but I’m half listening to Allan. I can’t focus on business matters now when I’m still fucking worried about Saylor. Last night, when we got back here, we tried to forget—or put aside temporarily at least—the ugly reality. Saylor’s gash turned out to be just a superficial scratch and it didn’t warrant a trip to the emergency room. Her wrecked car was a different story, and it took me forever to find a tow truck driver who would collect the vehicle without a police report. But everything has a price and I managed to get a hold of a sketchy character through an old acquaintance who was willing to do the job.
I head back to my bedroom—I guess I should be calling it our bedroom now—and I find her in the same curled up position from when I left her earlier. I close the door behind me with a soft click, but I don’t approach the bed, choosing to remain by the door so I can watch her sleep for a little longer. It’s funny how life can pull a one-eighty on you within such a short period of time. I could have never imagined that I would care for someone so intensely, so deeply, six months ago. Yet, here I am, ready to lay down my life if it means keeping Saylor safe. I rub my chest when I feel a sudden heaviness there, an ache, just by remembering what could have happened last night. I can’t lose Saylor. I will not survive.
SAYLOR
I keep my eyes closed and pretend to be sound asleep, but I can feel Oliver’s stare just the same. I heard when he entered the room and closed the door lightly. He hasn’t
approached the bed and I didn’t hear him move, so my guess is he’s rooted by the door.
I don’t want to announce I’m awake. I don’t want to look into his worried gaze. Last night, I saw what my death would mean to him. His eyes had fear in them I’ve never witnessed from him before.
I can’t do that to him. I love him too damn much to give up like a coward. Liv’s mom believes in me. It’s high time I started believing in myself as well. I have to be brave, I have to face my fears. But he can’t see my expression right now. I don’t think I can hide what I’m thinking. I might cave in and confess it all. I don’t want to worry him even more right now, not before I have a concrete plan in place. I’m calling Derek today and asking for that referral.
I’m Saylor Blue Carter. I’ve survived every curve ball life has thrown at me, I can conquer this illness as well.
Thirty-Four
SAYLOR
The next day, I tell Mandy about the threatening notes I received and about the dead rat in the box. I have no choice. She promises to be careful, but she doesn’t react as badly as I thought she would. Her therapy sessions must be working really well. She has confidence now she didn’t before. She doesn’t mind the bodyguard either that I asked Oliver to get her.
Life passes in a blur in the next week. No more anonymous letters, no more attempts on my life, but it doesn’t mean I’m in the clear. Oliver is ever vigilant, he doesn’t let me out of his sight unless Tony, my personal bodyguard, is with me.
Oliver is convinced my father is behind it. If that’s the case, it means he has no interest in really harming Mandy. The thought gives me a little peace of mind. It’s moronic to think that way, to be relieved my psycho father is the one trying to off me. I take what I can get. It’s better the devil you know—kind of—than the one you don’t.
Wreck of the Day continues its way to the top. We release another single, a more upbeat song that gets included in the soundtrack of an upcoming teen comedy movie. That solidifies the band’s success on its own merit, not on the fact I’m Oliver’s girlfriend.
