by Livia Grant
He’d stopped singing mid-sentence. He vaguely realized the band was still playing the accompaniment, doing their best to cover up his gaff as if this were all a planned part of the show, which was utter bullshit.
Snapshots from a different time in his life crowded his brain as the nearby media jumped up to snap photos of the frozen singer. The light flashes acted as a wake-up call that he was in a very public place, the center stage attraction, as a room full of fans witnessed his astonishment. He shook his head, trying to shake the rushing memories out and willing the lyrics to a song he’d sung a thousand times or more to come back to him.
But instead of lyrics, he thought about school bus rides and elementary lunch rooms. Flashes from Friday night football games and late night band rehearsals in Ryan’s family garage— always his best fan, Sami, never more than a few feet away as she looked at him as if he were the center of her universe.
It was when memories of their last night together crashed in on him that his surprise turned to anger. This was the woman who had turned on him—throwing away everything good without a backward glance. He’d thought he’d come to grips with her betrayal through therapy. Seeing her here being surrounded by security made him know he’d been a fool to think he was over her deception.
Jonah stood frozen until the security guards started pulling Samantha away from the runway. She kept craning her neck, fighting to stay behind. Fighting to maintain their visual connection.
Fuck if I’m going to let her get away again. She owes me answers, goddammit.
Without a plan, Jonah closed the last few feet at the end of the runway and jumped out into the crowd turning his confused fans into an impromptu mosh pit. He struggled to get his boots on the floor as dozens of hands clutched at him, happy just to touch their idol. He never took his eyes off the burly security guy currently manhandling Sami towards the exit of the club.
She was getting away.
His forward progress was halted by a concerned Jaxson who had stepped into his path.
“What the fuck, Cash? You’re in the middle of a show here, dude.”
Jonah reached out to his friend, pulling him close to talk into his ear in order to be heard over the chaos erupting in the club.
“I need to stop that woman from leaving.” He pointed at Samantha, giving the nearby press a confirmation on exactly what, or rather who, had grabbed his attention.
“Seriously, your booty call is gonna need to…”
Jaxson never got the chance to finish his sentence. His anger spilling over, Jonah grabbed the front of his friend’s tuxedo, pulling him chest to chest.
“Fuck you, Jax. This isn’t a booty call, dammit. I have to talk to her.”
The men had known each other long enough that Jonah recognized Jaxson’s acceptance of his odd request.
Chase had joined them and all three men swung to watch Samantha fighting security in an attempt to break free.
Chase questioned, “You mean Samantha?”
Hearing her name out loud rocked him. He had so many questions. Why was she here? How did Jaxson and Chase know her?
To their credit, his friends formed a human plow in front of him and began pressing through the crowd with Jonah on their heels. Security almost had her shuffled to the revolving door marked VIP entrance when Jaxson waved and started shouting at them to stop.
“Blake! Hold up!” The security detail must have heard through the din because they stopped a few feet before the door, just next to the VIP coat check counter. The crowd was thinning the farther back in the club they got until Jonah could finally walk freely without being groped by passing fans.
Sensing their friend’s need to reach the frightened Samantha, Jax and Chase separated, allowing Jonah to take long strides, closing the final distance between them quickly. It took all his effort to stop himself from grabbing her up—to kiss her or to squeeze the life out of her, he wasn’t sure which.
The band’s instrumental rendition of the ballad Jonah had written for the very woman now standing only an inch from him felt like the soundtrack for the dramatic scene playing out. The club lights had been dimmed for the show making it difficult for him to read her despite their proximity. Long seconds passed with neither speaking.
As his eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting, he could see the fear bordering on panic flitting in her eyes. He should have felt vindicated by her fear, but her vulnerability instead awoke a protective persona he’d abandoned years before.
“You came.” He choked the words out.
Her eyes widened before she answered with a simple, “I came.”
His left hand reached out and squeezed her right bicep on its own accord. “Why?” The venom in the single word matched the strength of his bruising grasp. He was grateful she had on long sleeves. It would be too dangerous to touch her skin.
When she stood frozen, a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, he reached out with his right hand, grabbing her other arm and shook her. “Why are you here, dammit? Why now?”
Her panic was taking over. He recognized her starting to gasp for her next breath, and old memories crashed in, spurring him into action.
“Where’s your inhaler?” he questioned as he released her to grab for her cross-body purse, scrambling to find her medicine.
She was shaking her head, trying to answer through her breathy gasps. “…Didn’t bring it. Don’t need it… anymore.”
“Like hell, you don’t,” he shouted, angry at her for endangering herself and then even more angry at himself for giving a shit.
Jaxson pressed closer, “Listen to me, Cash. We have first-aid supplies on every floor. I have an EMT on my staff. You need to get back to the show and let me handle this for you.”
Jonah hated his options. He wanted no part of climbing back onto that stage and going on with the show as if he hadn’t just been figuratively kicked in the balls. He could see her turning pale. His indecision was delaying getting her the help she needed.
He tore his gaze away from Samantha to stare into his friend’s eyes. “You swear to me you’ll help her?”
“You have my word,” Jaxson promised.
“She’s not to leave until the show is over and I can talk to her, got it?”
“Got it.” He saw the promise in Jaxson’s eyes and knew he really did have a good friend who was jumping in to help even though he had no clue what was really going on.
Samantha objected, “It’s too late, Jonah. Why not just let me leave?”
He grabbed her arms again, pulling her fully against his body until their faces were so close he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek. He fought the urge to kiss her.
“You and me… we have unfinished business, Miss Stone.”
She flinched at his use of her surname.
He forced himself to release her, letting her fall back against the coat-check counter as he turned to his friends.
“Keep her backstage.” Jaxson nodded just as he added on, “And we’ll need someplace private as soon as the show is over.”
Jaxson grinned, “I have just the place.”
With a final glare at the woman he never thought he’d see again, Jonah stepped back, getting in a final shot before returning to the stage. “That’s great. Let’s hope it’s sound proofed or the press may get an earful, eh Samantha?”
Chapter 3
“Really. I’m feeling better. Please, take this off. I need to leave.” Samantha’s voice was muffled by the oxygen mask affixed over her mouth and nose. Embarrassment mingled with regret, serving up a dangerous cocktail of emotions. She tried to lift the mask off her face so she could make an escape before Jonah finished the concert, but the medic was having none of it. She could hear the pounding beat of the heavy rock music in the distance and was still unaccustomed to the thrill of knowing Jonah was under the same roof as her.
The tattooed man who looked more like he belonged in a motorcycle gang than working at an upscale dance club reached to place the blo
od pressure cuff on her upper arm. He then put a stethoscope on the inside of her elbow, pumping the cuff up, and slowly letting the air out while listening. Once he was done, he removed the cuff, then put his fingers on the inside of her wrist to count her pulse.
A minute later, he took the pressure cuff off first and then finally the oxygen mask. “Looks like the medication helped. Your pulse is normal and your blood pressure is back in a normal range at one-twenty-five over eighty-five. Still a bit high, but it’s coming down.”
Sam was anxious to leave before Jonah could arrive and destroy the last shred of their friendship by taking out the anger she’d seen in his eyes on her. She pushed to her feet as the guy whose name she thought was Travis turned his back to pick up the medical supplies he used from the brand-new first-aid kit laying on the desk in front of them.
Only when she turned to head towards the door did she see the tall Jaxson Davidson standing in front of the closed door, blocking her escape. He leaned back against the six-panel door, his arms crossed in front of him and legs crossed at the ankles as if he were trying to relax, but she wasn’t fooled. His penetrating glare scanned her, looking for answers to questions he hadn’t even asked yet.
Sam pulled to a quick stop, locked in a visual showdown with the famous model.
He spoke first. “Thanks, Travis. I’m glad we hired you. I suspected we might need an EMT one day, but I never dreamed it would be on opening night.”
The burly medic stood several inches taller than his boss. “Yeah, I’m happy to help, but I’m sure Maxine is ready to kick my ass for being gone so long. Time for me to get back behind the bar.”
Jaxson pushed upright, stepping aside to let the medic out, but careful to close the door quickly, making it clear Samantha was not allowed to leave. At least not yet.
The wall surrounding the door Jaxson stood in front of was one long wall of windows. She could make out people walking past the smoky glass, not paying any attention to what was happening in the large, opulent office.
“It’s one-way glass. Don’t worry, the press can’t get any more pictures while you’re in here. In fact, they aren’t allowed on the third floor. Period.”
It hadn’t even crossed her mind to worry about the press. A new panic set in realizing with Cash Carter’s fame, there was more than a small chance that her father might see an article or two on his daughter’s previous friend and crush. It wasn’t every day a star jumped off the stage in the middle of a show to chase after someone in the audience.
There was nothing she could think of to say, so she held her tongue as she looked around the office, taking in the large, open seating area, the three desks that formed a U-shape, and the wall of bookshelves. A long conference table took up the center of the room, giving the space a bit of a boardroom feel. A single door opened to a small bathroom. She was surprised to be in their private office.
Jaxson was advancing on her. He walked slowly, as if afraid to frighten her. She glanced up at him to see a small smile light up his handsome face. Being so close to a celebrity made her jumpy… well more jumpy that she already was.
“I don’t want to pry, but I confess. I’m curious. I’ve known Cash for a few years now and I’ve never seen him jump off any stages to chase after a woman before.”
Flashes of the dozens if not hundreds of stories flitted through her memory—always with pictures of Jonah with a beautiful woman on his arm, or in the case of last month’s National Enquirer, on his lap.
Shit, I don’t want to be his story of the week.
“Yeah, well maybe you just don’t attend enough concerts.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it.”
She pressed again. “I’d like to go home now.” She hesitated, before adding a soft plea. “Please.”
For the first time since the medic had left Jaxson glanced away, looking uncomfortable. By the time he trained his eyes back on her, the look was gone and dominance had returned.
“I’ve agreed to hold you here until Cash can speak with you and that’s what I plan to do. I can, however, at least make sure you are as comfortable as possible while you wait for him.” He pulled his right arm up to crook his elbow towards her. “Would you please join me for a short walk?”
Samantha hesitated long enough she could see doubt in Jaxson’s eyes. She had the feeling if she made a real stink, he would let her leave, yet there was an invisible magnetic pull holding her in place.
God, she wanted answers. Why had he left her the way he had—without saying goodbye? Without even short notes to keep in touch. I mean she understood why he’d taken the money. He’d never hid his dreams of making it big. It hurt like hell to know he’d chosen success over her. Was there really anything he could say to her to explain it away? Not really.
Jaxson gave her the time she needed to sort through her complicated feelings before she reached out with her left hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, letting him pull her into motion.
The music got much louder as soon as the door opened. They were on a balcony of sorts that jutted out into the air. Only when they got close to the railing did Sam see they were now on the third floor of the dance club. He paused long enough for her to peer over the edge to look at the stage two stories below.
She could see the drummer sitting, surrounded by his equipment. The other members of the band played and sang while stationary. All except Jonah. He was out front singing, this time a guitar over his shoulder as he played the melody of their newest release, Revenge is Sweet.
She’d heard the song many times, but tonight the edgy lyrics took on a new meaning as Jaxson pulled her back into motion, looping around the entire oval shaped balcony towards a door labeled PRIVATE. The last strain she heard as the heavy door closed hit her hard.
As nice as Runway was, the opulence of the private location they had just entered caught her attention. She tried not to make a fool of herself by gawking at the gold plated sconces decorating every few feet with a soft lighting. Her high-heeled boots clicked on the marble floor as they neared a single door at the end of the hallway.
She watched as Jaxson first inserted an electronic keycard and then stepped forward to let the retinal scanner take a picture of his left eye. The door popped open with a quiet snap, and he pushed it open and swept his arm out as if to welcome her to precede him.
The click of the door locking them in had her pulse spiking again. She was truly alone in a locked room with a man she knew next to nothing about, other than what was printed in magazines or on the entertainment shows. As nervous as that made her, knowing she’d be just as alone with Jonah when he finished the show was worse.
When she stalled, Jaxson moved ahead, leading them through the short hallway and into a mammoth bedroom, whitewashed in subtle shades with just a few colorful throw pillows on the bed and couches to lend a splash of color. The huge bed had to be custom made. She’d never seen a bed like it and to her embarrassment she must have stopped to stare at it long enough that Jaxson commented.
“Chase, Emma and I plan on staying over sometimes.” He offered his answer matter-of-factly as if the picture of their steamy threesome piled naked he’d just painted in her mind was normal.
She knew she was blushing like an innocent and she hated it. She didn’t want Jonah’s friend to think she was judging them. She quickly turned away from the bed to take in the sitting area with a wall of shelves surrounding a fireplace with a flatscreen TV above the mantle.
“It’s a bit chilly in here. Let me light the fire. Have a seat. I’ll turn on the closed circuit coverage of the show. I’m sure you’d like to catch the end of the concert.”
Samantha collapsed into the plush white leather chair, relieved to get off her feet. She watched as Jaxson used the remote to turn on the concert. When he turned to face her, the gas fire crackled in the hearth behind him. He walked towards her and handed her the remote control.
She was disappointed when he sat on the coffee table directly in front
of her, blocking her view of the concert on the gigantic flat TV behind him. Sam wanted him to leave, desperate for a few minutes of privacy to try to pull herself together after all that had happened. It wasn’t to be.
He’d left the volume low, all the better for the conversation he was determined to drag her into.
“How are you feeling Samantha?”
She hesitated, afraid to tell the truth that she was freaking out at the thought of being alone with Jonah in this room with the unprecedented bed. Her eyes must have darted in that direction because Jaxson picked up on it.
“Would you prefer I have you wait for Cash in a different location? Some place a bit less… “ He stalled. “Private?”
It wasn’t the privacy that worried her. It was his anger.
Her voice came out a bit wobbly. “The privacy is good. I think we’ve already made a big enough public spectacle of ourselves tonight.”
Jaxson smiled kindly, “It was exciting. It’s not every day Cash decides to treat his fans as a mosh pit.”
She cracked a smile at that, remembering how surprised she’d been as he had flung himself off the end of the runway with complete faith he wouldn’t smash into the dance floor.
“Can I at least get you a drink or something to eat?”
She answered truthfully. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to eat or drink right now. I’m a bit nervous and I’ve already had several glasses of champagne.”
He hesitated, looking like he wanted to press her harder to talk with him, but then thought better of the idea. He finally stood and handed her the remote.
“I guess I’ll get back down to Chase and Emma and leave you here to collect yourself. You are safe here, Samantha. No one will bother you until I return after the show with Cash. I’ll be coming with him.”
He pinned her with a knowing glare as if to let her know he wouldn’t be leaving her alone with Cash until he knew she’d be safe. Relief swarmed her at the realization and then guilt. Guilt that she had to acknowledge she was actually afraid of the Cash Carter persona she’d met tonight. He was unknown to her and that made her feel uneasy.
