Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

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Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians Page 79

by Chase, Deanna


  I knew I was probably sounding like a whiny shrew, and I understood that Tor was trying to save money. I was too. It’s why I’d almost doubled my workload, but I at least could work from home while doing it. He was at the shop tattooing all these sexy, silly young things, getting to see their naked asses and breasts because apparently ass and breast stamps were the new cool.

  “The artists are great, but girl, you know that’s not why he’s here. Look, I’ll send him home early today, okay? Let him know his little Barbie doll is going crazy without him there.”

  I blew out a raspberry. “Shush. I’m not going crazy, I’m just—”

  “Going nucking futz, yeah, I get it.”

  “Oh jeez, and that doesn’t even make sense.” I rolled my eyes. “I think you meant to say fu—”

  “I meant exactly what I said, now you need to go take a bath and tell Miss Piggy to hurry up ‘cause Auntie Zoe is growing impatient.”

  I laughed. “Stop calling her that. And I think I’m going to take a walk. Dr. Gold says that can help sometimes.”

  “Fine, but be—”

  The call cut off with a shrill beep beep beep in my ear. Growling, I tossed the stupid thing onto the couch cushion beside me.

  I really did need to get a new one. What if I needed to text Tor with the “It’s Time” message? Disgruntled, and very annoyed because all I could keep picturing was Tor’s hands on some skanky little slut, I heaved my fat ass off the couch and shuffled to the closet to fetch my purse with the bottle of pepper spray inside of it.

  Tor was just a teensy bit obsessed with my personal safety. He probably wouldn’t be happy to know I was about to go out at dusk, but I lived in a safe area that was heavily populated with tourists and, as a consequence, cops. I felt perfectly safe to walk a few blocks on my own.

  Grabbing my broke-ass phone, I was about to shove it into my purse when it rang. Frowning, I flipped it over. It was Marianna.

  I had about a second internal debate as to whether or not I should pick it up, but ultimately I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  “Hey,” I drawled.

  “Ja—. He is—. Not—. H—”

  I winced as the static pierced my eardrums. “I can’t hear you. Marianna? Hello? I can’t hear you,” I repeated again when the static again filled my line.

  “You—”

  And then the line went dead.

  My internal worry button went screwy. Something about that phone call felt very, very wrong. Knowing I didn’t have a choice but to call back, I decided to walk outside and call her there. Sometimes the reception was a little better when I wasn’t in my apartment.

  Needing that walk more than ever, I quickly locked my front door and headed out of my apartment building. The second I stepped outside I called, but the call dropped almost immediately.

  I was too close to the building still. Moving away from it until I was closer to the parking lot where it was more open, I tried again.

  This time it went through.

  The connection wasn’t much better, but at least I could hear her. She was shrill, screaming the same words over and over. “Jamie. Angel just left. He’s in his car and is threatening to kill himself.”

  “What?” My heart hammered in my throat, eyes going wide. “What do you mean, he’s going to kill himself?”

  “He is not doing good,” she sobbed, voice choking and breaking. “We can’t find him. We’ve been looking for hours, but I have this gut feeling that says he might try to go see you before he does.”

  My eyes shot to the street beside me, watching car after car drive by. There was no sign of Angel anywhere.

  “Mama and Papa are freaking out.”

  Disbelieving what I was hearing, I shook my head. “Why? Why would he come here? He must hate me by now.”

  “Jamie,” she sobbed, “he never hated you. Angel just didn’t know how to appreciate you. But now that you’re really gone, it’s done something to him. I’m so scared.”

  “But he’s not here, Marianna. He hasn’t come.”

  “Oh God. Oh God,” she muttered over and over. “If he does come, can you call us, please?”

  “I will, but I don’t think he’ll—”

  “He will,” she stated with conviction. “I know he will. I’m really scared this time, Jamie.”

  The call dropped again, but I didn’t need to call her back. Staring at the brick wall in front of me, I had a terrible, sick feeling that Angel might really do it this time.

  Might really try to end himself. It made me ill, made me question if cutting him out of my life the way I had was the right decision after all.

  Angel had been unstable for years, but not because he was going to commit suicide, mostly just with taking risks.

  His face that night at the theater wormed itself into my mind’s eye. Not sure what I should do, I stood frozen with indecision. I couldn’t call—my phone was crap. I couldn’t go over there—trying to drive right now wasn’t happening.

  All I really could do was hope and pray that they’d find him before he did it. But something inside of me, some tiny little voice in my head, made me look closer at the cars parked in the lot of my apartment building.

  I saw many of my neighbors’ cars and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when my stomach took a leaping nosedive. Parked just ten yards away from me and slightly obscured by Carter’s black Dodge Ram sitting on a lift kit was a green minivan. Narrowing my eyes, I was pretty sure there was no Angel inside, and that creeped me out worse than anything.

  Glancing over my shoulder as a sudden prickling of unease slid down my spine, I wondered where he could be.

  I dialed Marianna’s number as I began a slow backpedal for the safety of my apartment. She picked up immediately.

  “Hello?” she asked in a breathless rush.

  “Marianna, he’s here somewhere. I see your van in my parking lot, but I don’t know—”

  Something hard and sharp pressed into my lower back.

  “Hang up the phone now and follow me.”

  ***

  Tor

  Stretching my arms above my head, I looked over at Zoe as the she-cat walked her way to me. Her eyes were intense and serious. Hopping onto the edge of my desk, she gave me a tight smile.

  “Go home,” she said without preamble.

  I chuckled. “One more customer and then I will.”

  Shaking her head, she gripped my shoulders and jerked. “The Barbie is sorta going nutso. I don’t know a whole lot about pregnancy, but I’m thinking she’s going slightly insane cooped up.”

  Popping a piece of cinnamon gum in my mouth, I had no problem imagining my Jamie pacing the length of our tiny living room. “I’ll take her for a walk when I get home.”

  “Too late—she’s out walking the block.” She huffed on her nails, then buffed it on her tagging inspired black crop top with neon lettering on it.

  Sighing, I cracked my neck from side to side. I’d been bent over more than nine hours today. I ached and only wanted to be home with my woman, but I wasn’t going to bail again. I’d been doing too much of that lately. We needed the money and I’d made a promise that when I hit ten thousand in savings, I’d ask her to marry me.

  With tips tonight, I was now at nine thousand nine hundred and seventy-five dollars. Even if I didn’t make that last twenty-five, I was going to ask her when I got home. The money was a surprise, a down payment for our future home.

  A bigger loft, a townhouse, even a single-family dwelling. It didn’t matter to me so long as she and I were together. I just wanted to take us someplace bigger and a little safer than downtown Austin, not to mention away from where Angel would know where to look for her.

  Not that he’d been much of a problem lately, but there was no such thing as being too cautious, either.

  “That woman,”
I sighed, “too independent by half.”

  Zoe chuckled. “Yeah, but you love her for it.”

  Nodding, I scrubbed a hand across the whiskers of my face. The baby would be coming any day now. I was filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. “I do,” I murmured and then smiled at her. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Ohhh, secret.” Candy came sidling over to us. In the past three months she’d been trained by Zoe to be the replacement piercer. Now that Zoe was gaining a clientele for her tattooing, she didn’t feel able to juggle both.

  It’d been a lot of fun listening to those two constantly bickering.

  Her purple contact lenses almost glowed beneath the bright florescent lights Ryko had installed last week. Candy was going through a Goth phase lately, forgoing her bubblegum-pink hair color for something much darker. Her hair was a shade of black so deep it rivaled Zoe’s natural raven hue.

  She and Ryko had split, so far as I could tell, and she and Zander had been spotted hanging out more frequently. Not that it was any concern of mine, but I didn’t hate Candy, and Zander was definitely not the loyal type.

  But if she was happy, then who was I to argue?

  Leaning against the back of my chair, the latex body-hugging suit she wore made her breasts seem like they’d pop free with one heavy inhalation of breath.

  “Do share.”

  Zoe just rolled her eyes. “Candy, it’s really impossible to hate you when you just don’t seem to get the hint that I don’t like you.”

  Candy laughed. “Ah, c’mon, Zo. You’re happy with your cowboy. I’m not dating that douche Ryko anymore, so what’s the problem?”

  Zoe just sighed then looked at me and waved her hand. Maybe the forced time spent together had softened Zoe to Candy after all. If those two could eventually learn to get along, then I had hope for Jamie and myself.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the velvet black box.

  “Oh shit,” Candy breathed.

  Zoe didn’t say anything. Just snatched the box from my hand and flipped it open, staring at the humble ring inside. I’d not been able to afford what I’d really wanted to get her; it was just a simple quarter-carat diamond nestled inside my mother’s sapphire-encrusted band.

  I’d promised myself after my mother passed that this ring would only go onto the hand of the one I knew deep down was it for me.

  And Jamie was that.

  I rolled my wrists, waiting to hear their verdict.

  Candy whistled as the bell above the door jingled, heralding the arrival of another customer. “That’s one lucky broad, Tor.” She winked, and then sidled off to go make friends with whoever had entered.

  “Well?” I broke the silence, shaking my head as the anxiety tore me in two.

  Zoe’s smile began as a mere flicker and then spread into something brilliant and wide. “She’s going to love it. I can’t believe she’s going to get married before me. I’m almost jealous. Almost.”

  Feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, I took the box back from her. “She’s not said yes yet.”

  “Do you doubt she will?”

  Another client entered.

  We weren’t able to talk much after that, as my final customer of the day finally came in. Thankfully the tattoo was small, just a quarter-sized butterfly on her left shoulder blade. I’d be done in thirty minutes and then I’d be home.

  I’d sink into Jamie’s wet body and after she came, I’d propose.

  I couldn’t wait to begin the second chapter of my new life. Father, lover, husband…

  Life was good.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Jamie

  Angel had shoved me into the passenger’s seat of the car, keeping his gun trained on me as he’d walked around to the driver’s side and gotten in. My worst fear was that he’d drive us off someplace that no one would know where to look for me.

  I could only hope that Marianna had heard her brother’s words before I’d been forced to hang up. Covering my belly with my arms, I sucked in a sharp breath. “Angel, what in the hell are you doing?” My words trembled, my pulse was speeding out of control, and the contents of my stomach were heaving.

  He still wouldn’t look at me and I wanted to cry for being so stupid. So trusting, for thinking I could ever fix this man. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible I reached for the door handle, wanting nothing more than to run far away.

  “You shouldn’t have come outside, Jamie. You should have stayed in your apartment, stayed away from me. I was going to leave you alone.”

  Those words gave me chills, filled my blood with threads of black ice that made me feel like I couldn’t take a proper breath.

  “Don’t hurt me,” I whispered.

  He snarled and finally turned to me. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

  “You’re fucking high again!” I screeched and instantly regretted it, but my fear was turning to fury. Because this was all so stupid. So pointless. I was finally happy, finally in a good place—this couldn’t be how things ended.

  Realizing I had to keep my shit together, I took a deep, calming breath and tried again. “Angel, why?” I pleaded with him when he refused to answer. Still grabbing for the door.

  “No,” he growled, glancing at my hand. “You’re not getting out now. You’re going to watch this. You wanted to walk away, leave me alone, this is what’s happened. This is what I’ve become. Are you happy now, Jamie? Does that bastard make you happy? Huh? Is that why you left me? I did the math—you look like a fucking whale. You were screwing him while I was lying in that bed fighting for my life.”

  My mouth was hanging open, an anger like I’ve never known flooding me. I’m not a violent person, but if that gun were in my hands I’d shoot him. I hated Angel in a way I never had before. He’d been the one screwing around on me the entire time we’d been together. For years I tried. For years, sacrificing what I needed, what I wanted to try and keep him from sinking into his demons, from drowning in them. Tor had been right all along.

  And I’d been such an idiot.

  My voice cracked when I asked him what he meant to do to me.

  “I don’t know.” His jaw clenched and then his eyes squeezed and for a second I was tempted to grab the door and run out of there, but I couldn’t run.

  I could barely walk without tripping over my feet.

  My poor baby. What had I done?

  Choking back a sob, I hugged my belly, feeling a fluttering between my legs and the stirrings of cramps gripping my insides tight.

  Oh God.

  Not now.

  Not yet.

  Licking my lips, I forced myself to calm. Tucking my shaking hands beneath my butt so that Angel wouldn’t see it. Losing my head would not end well; I didn’t know what he was high on. Not meth—he’d be tweaking and jerking in the seat. Maybe crank, but he wasn’t jittery.

  A loud banging on the rolled-up window made me scream and Angel flinched, automatically bringing up his pistol and aiming it at the scared face of his father gazing wide-eyed between the two of us.

  Just seeing the anxious eyes of Mr. Romero made my own burn with relief and self-revulsion, because for a second I was happy that the gun wasn’t aimed at Tor. Any second now he’d come back home. He knew the van color, he’d know. I just knew he would know, and if Angel saw him, then what?

  I might be able to walk away from this, but I didn’t think my Viking would.

  Dizzy, ears ringing, and smelling the mineral scent of blood, I knew my blood pressure was spiking. My lower back was aching. This wasn’t good.

  For me. For the baby.

  “Angel, open the door!” Mr. Romero cried out. “You don’t want to do this, son.”

  “Get the fuck away from us, Dad!” Angel brandished the gun around and I knew enough about guns to be able to tell the safety wasn’t o
n.

  My lower lip trembled.

  “I want to talk. It’s all we’re doing. Talking, okay?” Angel shook his head; he wasn’t saying it loud enough for his father to hear, more just muttering it to himself, which was even more terrifying.

  “Jamie.” Mr. Romero’s voice cracked as his gaze turned to me. “Mija, are you okay?”

  There was a stain of something dark on Mr. Romero’s tan collar, and his upper lip looked cracked. Had he and Angel gotten into a fight earlier?

  “Tell him you’re okay, Jamie!” Angel turned the gun on me and I cried out.

  Raising my hands, I nodded quickly. “I’m okay. I’m okay, Mr. Romero. We’re fine. Just talking. Just…talking.” I dared to reach out and brush my arm down Angel’s bicep.

  He was unnaturally calm, allowing me to pet him, and I realized that maybe my touch was actually soothing him.

  Giving his dad a watery grin, I nodded, but prayed in my head that someone somewhere had already called the cops.

  “Papa!” Marianna’s voice cut through the night and I winced, ready for Angel to lose his shit all over again as his sister rushed to the door, but he didn’t.

  I continued to stroke his arm and he was so unbelievably still under my touch. I didn’t know what to do.

  I had this horrible vision of me trying climbing out of the still-unlocked car and getting shot in the back. I couldn’t even roll out of the way.

  Never in my life had I thought this might happen. Never. Not with Angel, my high school sweetheart. The love of my high school life.

  The man I’d sworn would be my white knight, the one I’d built such dreams and hopes with. College, kids, a perfect life. Full of laughter and love, with maybe an occasional bump in the road because that was life, never without its pain, but so long as someone was there to help me weather the storm, we’d be okay.

  Happy.

  I’d held on to that fantasy for so long that I’d failed myself, failed the Romeros, and failed Angel. Because I’d never allowed him to learn how to move on. I’d always been there, ready to take whatever scraps of kindness he’d hand out because I just knew that the nightmare, his new reality, was temporary.

 

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