by L. P. Maxa
“Dylan. I love you for this. Really baby, I do. I don’t know where you got the gun, but I need you to put it down.” I would not have her ruin her life to try and save mine.
“It’s fine, babe. My dad was worried being on tour could be dangerous so he brought me my pistol. He’s thoughtful like that.”
My dad looked at me, his eyes full of anger. “You better get your whore on a leash.” Dylan cocked her gun in answer to his insult. He held up his hands. “You crazy bitch.”
“You have no idea.” Dylan pulled a knife out of her pocket and tossed it on the ground on his feet. “My dad brought me that too. Go ahead. Take it.” He picked it up and held it out in front of him. She shook her head, smiling. “I guess I should add stupid to that list of characteristics. We probably have about sixty seconds until security gets here. They’ve no doubt heard the gunshots. So you have two choices. Either you leave, and never EVER try and contact my boyfriend again. Or, I start crying like the ‘crazy bitch’ I am and tell everyone that you came at us with a knife.”
I was stunned into silence. I felt like I was floating outside my body watching my girlfriend hold my dad at gunpoint. I mean, it was fitting right? I came from crazy; of course I fell in love with crazy…
He looked at the knife in his hand, realization crossing his face. His expression turned to disgust as he looked at me. “You were always weak. Always hiding behind your mother. Guess you found a new cunt to protect you, huh, son?”
Dylan let out a sad sigh and then shot my dad in the foot.
“Dylan?! What the fuck? Drop the gun!” Chase came running towards us, with four other security guys tailing close behind.
She put the safety on and then turned the gun around, handing it to Chase. “He, uh, tried to stab me.”
Chase narrowed his eyes, looking her over from head to toe. “Where?”
Dylan looked down and ripped the pocket on her blazer, “Right there. He missed.”
I raised an eyebrow. Holy shit. “I fucking love you.”
She put her arms around my waist and looked up at me, her eyes full of love and humor. “Thanks for finally letting me meet your family, babe.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dylan
Chase called the police and they hauled Smith’s dad off to jail. It was his word against all of ours, and no one was going to try and help that man. It took me a while to calm Smith down, and it took even longer for me to get him to tell me what happened with his mother. Apparently his dad had shoved her and she hit her head on a table on the way down. It knocked her out cold and when she wouldn’t wake up Smith begged his dad to take her to the hospital. He’d been ignored. So a twelve-year-old little boy had loaded up his bleeding mother and tried to take her himself. He hit a tree. She didn’t make it.
I wanted to tell him that in all reality it was probably the blow to the head that killed her, but I didn’t really know if that would help him or not, so I kept my mouth shut. He cried, and I promised him that it wasn’t his fault and that it didn’t change how I felt about him. He made me promise not to tell the rest of the band. I agreed, on one condition: that he see a therapist.
We spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, I think seeing his father…standing up to his father had really helped him.
It broke my heart that this was the story Smith didn’t want to tell me. That this was the tragedy that was hanging over his head. He’d tried to save his mother’s life, but he’d spent the past fifteen years thinking it was his fault she was gone. It was gut-wrenching. And it explained so much. As if coming from a family that doled about meth as Christmas presents wasn’t bad enough, let’s add in abuse and death. It was a wonder that Smith was still standing. And it was a testament to how strong he really was. I was so lucky to be loved by him, that he chose me.
The next morning we were all sitting at the hotel, having breakfast and drinking mimosas. The band knew that we had run into Smith’s father, but that was all for now. He didn’t want any more drama, and I didn’t blame him. I squeezed his knee under the table, bringing him back to the present and putting a smile back on his face.
“You guys were so nice to my parents last night. Thank you.”
Lexi stole a small sip of my mimosa while Dash wasn’t looking. “Your family is great, Dilly.”
“Thank you.”
Smith shook his head. “Cher, I don’t know how your dad does it.”
“Does what?”
“Has three daughters. That look like y’all do. I’d lock you up and throw away the key.” He put his hand on Dash’s shoulder. “I feel for you, man.”
My eyes went wide. Holy shit. Did anyone else just catch what he—?
“Why? Why would you feel for me? It’s a girl isn’t it? We’re having a girl.” Dash was standing at this point, towering over Smith, daring him to lie.
Smith opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. Finally, he gave up and just smiled, shooting me an apologetic look before saying, “It’s a girl.”
Dash hauled Lexi up and showered her with hugs and kisses. “We’re having a girl, Kitten.”
She turned her tear-filled eyes to me. “Really? It’s a girl.”
I nod. “It’s a girl. I peeked, I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, the tears spilling over. “No, this is perfect. This is the perfect way to find out.” Dash set her down and she shrugged. “Loud, unexpected, and by surprise. Perfect.”
***
Smith and I were lying in our bunk. We had just started season two of The Walking Dead. His hadn’t mentioned his dad or the incident since last night. (Other than to ask where I’d stashed my gun.) And honestly, I didn’t know if he ever would. He readjusted the iPad on the pillow we had it propped up on. “I can’t wait until we get home and can watch this on an actual T.V. while we lie in bed.”
I stayed silent, waiting for him to say something else. Smith often spoke first and thought later.
“I, uh, I mean…” He took a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”
I hid my smile. “I think we do.” I reached out and pressed pause. The screen froze on Reedus. I was more than happy to leave it just like that.
Smith growled and pressed play, waiting until Carol came on before pressing pause again. “So…um…I know you have your apartment in Florida.”
“I do.”
“We don’t advertise this, but the band bought a big section of land outside of Austin a few years ago. It’s a couple hundred acres. Anyway, Dash and Lexi are meeting with an architect next week to start building.” He was playing with my fingers at this point, nervous. “So, you know, if you, uh wanted to…we could maybe—”
Luke kicked the wall by our feet. “For the love of God! Just spit it out.”
Smith kicked the wall back but turned to me. “Would you want to move in with me?”
“Yes.” There was no question, no hesitation. I wanted to be where this man was. I could work from anywhere, granted I might have to take a few tests to get my license switched over…but it would be more than worth it.
He kissed me. “I love the fuck out of you.”
“I love the fuck out of you too.”
Epilogue
Smith
Dylan had been right all along; I was strong. I was a survivor. I’d had a horrible childhood. I’d been on and off drugs for as long as I could remember…but the second I had a reason to change, I had. She might not think she saved me, but she did. And not because she stood up to my father, but because she made me want to be the man she deserved. Don’t get me wrong, I was sure I’d still have bad days. Days when the pull for escape would be there, but instead of drugs I’d pick up my guitar, or my girl, or hell maybe even my kid one day.
The tour had been over for about a week. The label rented us a huge house near the beach back in Florida as a reward for a job well done—and trying to get into our good graces so we would start the new album.
Dylan and I spent some time boxing up all her stuff and making sure everything would be ready for the move when it came time. This house we were in was fucking spectacular and I think everyone was more than content to stay here until our houses were ready. Plus, Dylan could still work and Lexi could use Dr. Solomon for all her appointments. You’d think we would be sick of each other by this point. But it was like we were so used to being stacked on top of one another, separating completely would be a shock to the system. I was in the kitchen, making coffee and Dylan was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping tea and looking at counter top samples online. I told her she could pick out everything for the house. All I cared about was that our shower had a large bench seat and our bedroom was soundproof.
The iPad dinged. “Smith?”
“Hmm?” I was had just taken a sip of coffee and opened the newspaper.
“That was an alert. An article just popped up about Jared and the trial…”
I went to stand behind her and we read it together.
“Jared James, former drummer of the Devil’s Share has pled guilty to all charges regarding his attack on Alexis Grant and his own cousin, Smith James. It’s unclear at this time if he did so as part of a plea bargain or not. We will—”
I closed the screen. I didn’t need to read anymore. It was over. There would be no trial; I wouldn’t have to see my dad. Lexi and I were free. We could move on and never have to deal with this again.
Dash walked into the room, his phone is his hand. “Did you see this?! Jared pled guilty!”
I nodded, still slightly in shock. “Yeah, we just read it.” I looked behind him, searching for Lexi. “Did you tell Lex?”
“No, I’ll tell her when she wakes up. I’m so damn relieved.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy. The stress of the trial wouldn’t have been good for her and the baby.”
Dash chuckled, “Are you kidding me? Lexi is going to be pissed. She was looking forward to it. She fucking hates the way your family treats you. She wanted to nail your dad’s ass to the wall.”
I laughed and peeked over at Dylan. She winked. There was no need to nail his ass to the wall, because my girl already took care of that. I knew that the band would find out eventually that my girlfriend shot my dad, but I just didn’t want to bring him up. Didn’t want to bring him into this happy content life we were all living right now.
Dash set his phone down and tapped Dylan on the hand. “I’m actually going to need your help with something.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Dash couldn’t contain his smile. “I’m going to ask Lexi to marry me.”
There was a loud crash in the living room, and then the front door slammed shut. I walked to the window and saw Luke climb into his car and peel out of the driveway. I turned back around, “I take it you hadn’t told Luke yet?”
Dash let out a deep sigh. “No. I didn’t really think I needed Luke’s permission to ask my pregnant girlfriend to marry me…” He stalked off down the hall, shoulders tense. That was going to come to a head, and soon.
There was a knock at the door, Dylan moved to get it but I stopped her. “I’ll get it, Cher. Luke probably forgot his house key.” I kissed her head on my way out of the kitchen. I had to walk through the dining, around the living room, and down the entry hall before I reached the door. Told you this house was huge. I opened it, fully expecting to see a pissed off Luke. But there, standing in front of me was a chick. She was older, maybe sixty-five? And wearing a pantsuit. She looked like an attractive grandma.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, does Jacks Cole live here?”
“That depends. Who are you?” Crazy stalker? No, he doesn’t live here. Long lost family member? Sure, stay on the porch and we’ll call our lawyers. Odd fetish prostitute? Yeah, let me get him.
“My name is Diane Harris. He won’t know who I am but it’s very important that I speak with him.”
She seemed a little older than the women Jacks usually fucked over, but who was I to judge? Woman scorned? Yeah, let me get him. “He’s here…let me just go see if he’s up…”
She gave me a small smile. “May we come in?”
We? There were two of them? This was weird, even for Jacks. “Sure.” I held the door open wide, stepping back so they could enter.
“Thank you.” She held her hand out to the side. “Come on, dear. I’ll be right here next to you.”
I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Please God, let this woman be talking to another old lady. Or even a man. I don’t care as long she is not talking to— My thoughts were cut off when she stepped inside holding the small hand of a little girl with the most beautiful black hair I had ever seen.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L.P. Maxa lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband, daughter, three rescue dogs, one stray cat, and a fish that keeps dying and she keeps replacing so her toddler doesn’t notice. She loves reading romance novels as much as she loves writing them. She’s new to the writing game but has published four books in her first year alone. Inspiration can come from anywhere: a song lyric, a quote, a weekend with friends. The tiniest things spark amazing stories.
Did you enjoy this book? Drop us a line and say so! We love to hear from readers, and so do our authors. To connect, visit www.boroughspublishinggroup.com online, send comments directly to [email protected], or friend us on Facebook and Twitter. And be sure to check back regularly for contests and new releases in your favorite subgenres of romance!
Are you an aspiring writer? Check out www.boroughspublishinggroup.com/submit and see if we can help you make your dreams come true.
