Let it Burn: Sons of Sinners Part 2 (A Rock Star Romance)

by Grace James

  Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh – I thought – aren’t you and him together? Sure looked like it in all those pictures.”

  “Yeah, we are…it’s just complicated.”

  Finn studied me for a second, like he was about to say something, but in the end he just nodded and said, “Okay, then. You ready?”

  “Yeah.” I started towards the wrought iron railings that surrounded the cemetery; they looked stark and cold under the moonlight. “Thank you for this, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome. I meant it when I said I’m always here for you. Especially for this.” He fell into step beside me and we started to walk around the perimeter of the graveyard.

  Soon, we came to the base of a tall tree with a low branch that skimmed the top of the railings. I was just able to grab it if I jumped – a helping hand from Finn made it even easier. Once I had a grip on the branch, it was simple enough to swing myself up and over. Since the gates were locked at sundown, that was the only way in to the cemetery after dark.

  And my visits always had to be after dark.

  They always had to be at 1AM, if we’re being precise.

  When I dropped to the grass on the other side of the perimeter fence, I glanced back at Finn, who was still standing at the base of the tree.

  “I’ll be here,” he said reassuringly. “Scream if you need me.”

  I gave him a small smile. It was good to know that somebody was close by. I wasn’t too hot on the idea of being out there by myself. I’d done it alone before I met Finn, but it was creepy as all hell. When Finn and I first started dating, I told him about what happened to Connor and he was incredibly sympathetic, insisting that he would always come to the cemetery with me, no matter what, so that I wouldn’t have to do it alone again. And even after we broke up, he was as good as his word.

  “Thanks again, Finn,” I said as I started to back away from the bars.

  “Stop thanking me. Go do what you need to do. I’ll wait.”

  I nodded and turned away to walk through the sea of silent graves. The night wind whipped around me and sent my hair fluttering across my face. Thanks to the lack of cloud cover, I could easily see where I was going. I wouldn’t need the flashlight I always brought with me.

  When I spotted Connor’s black marble headstone, I thought back to the first time I had scaled the fence to visit his grave. It was exactly three years before, just weeks after he had died…and the anniversary of the night we met.

  That night, I hadn’t planned to do it, but I had ended up there anyway. Alone and cold and crying. I had dropped to my knees on the damp grass and wept for everything I had lost: Connor, Blake, myself…

  Every year since then, I had come back at 1AM, because that was the time that Connor and I had gone to the abandoned bowling alley all those years before.

  I knew Connor would have appreciated the fact that I broke in to the cemetery every year to visit him. It was something he would’ve done, and that’s why I did it. It was my way of remembering him; of remembering all the fun we had together and all the crazy places he used to take me. Because, for a few short months back when I was nineteen, he had been my obsession. He had been my first. And even with everything that came later – all the deceit and the lies – I still felt that I needed to keep the memory of the man I met that night alive.

  When I reached his grave, I pulled the keychain that I’d bought a few days before out of my jacket pocket and placed it carefully on top of his headstone.

  The moonlight glinted off the wide, silver coin and I paused to re-read the motto that was engraved under the dark silhouette of Peter Pan: Lost boys never grow up.

  A lump rose in my throat; I blinked and warm tears dropped to my cheeks. “I saw that and thought of you,” I whispered as I knelt down on the grass. “It just…well, I guess it just struck a chord.”

  I reached out and traced my fingers over the lettering that had been cut into the stone, spelling out Connor’s name. Then I pulled a small bottle of Old Crow, his drink of choice, out of my purse and took a sip straight from the bottle. I winced as it burnt down my throat. “Ugh, I still hate this stuff,” I murmured, pouring the rest of it out at the base of the headstone, before adding the empty bottle to the row of others that were lined up just under his name. I clearly wasn’t the only one to bring bourbon to Connor’s grave.

  For a little while, I talked quietly about trivial things – movies I’d seen that I thought he would’ve liked; bands I’d heard that he would’ve appreciated – until the buzzing of my cell made me pause.

  When I pulled it free from my pocket and saw Blake’s name on the screen, I didn’t even think before I answered it.

  I really should have, though.

  “Hey, you,” I said softly.

  “Hey,” his deep voice rumbled down the line. “What you doing?”

  I hesitated as my eyes shot back to the dark headstone.

  I could still remember Connor’s funeral like it was yesterday; how Blake had stood apart from everyone else, a broken man…and how, in the few short weeks that he’d had been back in my life, it had become clear that the subject of Connor still caused him so much pain.

  “Um, I’m still at work.” I cringed as the lie came out of my mouth.

  He was quiet for a moment. “You are?”

  “…yeah.”

  “Huh…”

  “Are you still in the studio? Did you and Derren kill each other yet?”

  He didn’t answer my question. In fact, he didn’t say anything for a good thirty seconds.

  “…Blake?”

  “Gonna tell me why you’re lying?”

  A pulse of panic shot through my chest, and I did the dumbest thing it’s possible to do when you’ve been caught in a lie. I kept it up. “I’m not – what makes you think I’m lying?”

  His voice was a low and calm, but it was ominous, the kind of calm that happens right before a tornado. “Maybe ‘cause you weren’t at work a minute ago when I walked in there to surprise you.”

  Busted.

  Shit!

  All my breath left my body.

  “So, I’m gonna ask again,” he gritted out, anger starting to seep through his words. “Why the fuck are you lying to me?”

  I had nothing.

  I’d backed myself into a corner and there was no way out – so I started rambling, “I didn’t mean to, I just…I had to go do something tonight and I didn’t – I mean, I know you hate lies but it was for a good reason…” I trailed off because that sounded lame, even to my own ears.

  I heard him snort a humorless laugh. “A good reason? Riiight.”

  “I know how that sounds, but I promise –”

  “Amy, just tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

  If I wasn’t already aware, him using my real name told me that this was bad. Right then, I realized what a huge mistake I’d made.

  “Blake, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied –”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. Ya think?” His sarcasm was cutting.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “Just give me a chance to explain – please? Will you come over? I can meet you at my place in twenty minutes.”

  He was silent.

  “…Blake?”

  His reply was curt. “Twenty minutes. And you’re gonna tell me everything.”

  54

  After a few minutes of sitting there like a statue, staring at the moonlight glinting off the keychain on top of Connor’s headstone, I murmured my goodbyes and walked back over to the fence where Finn was waiting. I climbed back over and he helped me down from the tree. Then we walked silently back toward the parking lot.

  Just before we reached our cars, he finally spoke. “Are you going to be okay?”

  I had been chewing my lip and staring at the ground as we walked – but at his words I looked up at him and saw the concern on his face. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

  “You sure? You don’t seem okay.”

  “I got a call while
I was out there – from Blake.”

  “Ah.” He nodded like he understood now.

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “‘Ah’?”

  His lips twitched into a small smile, but when he spoke he sounded serious. “Did you tell him where you are?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Ah.”

  “What? What’s with the ‘ah’?”

  “Nothing,” he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets as we continued to walk beside the fence, but after a minute he apparently couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. “Look, Amy, he’s always in the news. I’ve seen a bunch of stories about him, about how he has a short fuse…and then there’s the way he apparently treated that model –”

  I cut him off, bristling on Blake’s behalf. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”

  “Granted – but there’s a lot to read. Not all of it can be wrong.”

  “Most of can be twisted, though,” I told him. “Blake’s a good guy, Finn. I know it probably doesn’t look that way if you don’t know him, but he is.”

  “I’m not saying he isn’t,” he assured me. “And even if I were, it’s your life, you get to choose who’s in it. But if you’re so sure of him, how come it’s not him here with you tonight?”

  “Because it’s complicated. Bringing Blake wasn’t an option, so I –” I managed to stop myself before I finished that sentence with, “brought you instead,” but Finn was a smart guy – he filled in the blanks.

  He snorted a brief laugh and nodded. “Okay. That told me.”

  I felt like a huge bitch. “Finn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just…there’s a lot you don’t know about Blake.”

  “Well, maybe,” he agreed quietly. “But I know that was his cousin’s grave you just visited. If anyone should have been with you while you did that, it was him.”

  “He wouldn’t have wanted to come,” I muttered defensively.

  Finn nodded silently as he pulled his car keys from his pocket; we were almost back at the parking lot.

  “He hates talking about Connor,” I tacked on. For some reason, I wanted to explain myself.

  Finn just nodded again, which didn’t make me feel better at all. A moment later, we reached our cars and came to a stop. “You going to be good from here?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, pulling my keys from my purse. But I didn’t make a move to walk away yet. “I really screwed this up tonight, didn’t I?”

  Finn’s face softened instantly. “Just apologize to him and explain why you did it. He’ll forgive you.” He reached out and squeezed my arm reassuringly.

  I didn’t share his confidence. “Maybe…”

  “If he doesn’t, he’s an idiot,” he said as his hand dropped away. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks –”

  He held up a hand, stopping me. “No more ‘thanks’. It’s getting weird.”

  I smiled a little. “Okay.”

  Finn leant forwards and dropped a quick kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you soon. I’ll come into The Academy and cash in all my ‘friend points’ on free drinks.”

  I made my eyes get wide, pretending to be shocked. “I knew you had an ulterior motive to all this!”

  He grinned as he opened the door of his Camaro. “What can I say? Guilty.”

  “Bye, Finn,” I said, starting to get into my own car.

  “Take care, Amy.”

  55

  I had barely kicked off my shoes and tossed my purse onto the coffee table before there was a loud banging on my apartment door.

  My heart was hammering and my palms were sweating as I went over to open it.

  Blake’s hands were braced against the top of the doorframe and I could see the muscles and tendons in his arms standing out, so he must’ve been gripping it tight. His jaw was set, his eyes hard as they locked on mine for a long moment.

  “Hey,” I said quietly. “Are you going to come inside?”

  He ignored the invitation. “Where were you?” His voice was gritty and low, like rocks grazing against concrete.

  I licked my dry lips. “…the cemetery.”

  That clearly wasn’t the answer he was expecting. I saw confusion and disbelief play across his face. “At one in the morning? You were at the cemetery?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bullshit.” The word was like a whip crack.

  “It’s not –”

  “They lock the gates a sundown. What were you doing? Sitting in the parking lot? Admiring the fucking view?”

  “No. I climbed over the fence to visit Connor’s grave –” I saw him flinch, and I faltered, but I forced myself to keep talking. “I do it every year. Tonight’s the anniversary of the night we met. He took me to this abandoned bowling alley near your old neighborhood. We spent the night on –”

  “Are you FUCKING SEROIUS?!” he roared, making me jump about a foot. He released his hold on the doorframe and took a step towards me. Involuntarily, I took a step back. “You went to deserted cemetery in the middle of the night to reminisce about the first night you fucked my cousin?!”

  His words were like a slap in the face. I couldn’t believe how cheap he’d made the whole thing sound. “I wasn’t reminiscing about fucking him!” I snapped. “I was remembering him. God, not everything has to do with sex!”

  “If that’s true, then why lie? What did you think? That I’d cry like a little bitch if you mentioned his name?!”

  “I just –”

  “Did you think I’d stop you going?”

  “No –”

  “Then why?! Just to screw with me?”

  “No!” I cried as I moved forwards. Trying to calm him down, I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders. They were bunched up like rocks under my fingers. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry I lied, okay? But I was trying to protect you.”

  That was a bad choice of words, apparently.

  He just exploded. “PROTECT ME?! I NEVER NEEDED ANYONE TO FUCKIN’ PROTECT ME – ESPECIALLY NOT YOU!”

  When he said that last part, the disdain in his voice ignited my anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

  “I look out for myself, Princess. I always have. I don’t need a spoiled little girl to do it for me.”

  As I stared up at him in silent shock, my hands slipped away from his shoulders. “How dare you?” I breathed. “You think I’m spoiled? What about you?! You’re the one who always gets his way!” My voice was rising with every word. “You’re the one whose ego’s so huge you can’t handle the fact that I had to go do something that didn’t involve you – everything has to be about YOU, doesn’t it, Blake?!”

  He closed the small distance between us quickly, jabbing a finger in my face as he invaded my personal space completely. “YOU FUCKIN’ LIED TO ME! YOU MADE IT ABOUT ME!”

  My anger was spreading like wildfire now. “By trying to keep you OUT OF IT?! Are you stupid?!”

  His mouth split into a snarl –

  “Amy, honey, is everything okay?” The kindly voice came from behind Blake.

  It was Mrs. Flint, my neighbor, standing just outside the door to my apartment, looking at me with worried eyes. She was eighty-five – but a young, incredibly energetic eighty-five – and she had been sweet to me ever since I had moved in the previous year. She was clutching a toweled robe around her and she had a phone in her hand, her thumb hovering over the buttons.

  “Is this man bothering you,” she asked. “Do you need me to call the police?” I saw her gaze flick over Blake, and she looked…scared.

  I understood why.

  He was towering over me, all powerful muscle, brute strength and rage.

  A hell of a lot of rage.

  The thing is, right then I think he must’ve realized how threatening he looked, too. His brows knit together, then he cleared his throat and stepped back from me a little. His voice was controlled when he said, “No, ma’am, that won’t be ne
cessary.”

  “Amy?” Mrs. Flint asked, refusing to take his word for it.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her, forcing a small smile. “But thank you for checking. I’m so sorry we woke you.” I felt horrible that this sweet old lady had been disturbed in the middle of the night because of our drama.

  “Yeah,” Blake spoke up. “Won’t happen again.”

  Giving Blake a final steely glare, Mrs. Flint said, “If I hear any more of your yelling, young man, I will be calling the police – whether Amy wants me to or not.”

  He nodded once. “Understood.”

  With a curt nod in return, she retreated from the doorway and back to her apartment. I hoped that I was as badass as her when I was eighty-five…or, like, ever.

  When she had gone, Blake and I stood in silence. It was thick and oppressive, heavy with hurt and anger.

  After a few moments, I moved past him to close the front door quietly. When I turned back around, Blake had moved and was sitting on the couch. His elbows were propped on his knees as he stared at the floor.

  I walked over and sat beside him – but a couple of feet away.

  “Know what the worst thing is?” he asked quietly, not waiting for me to answer before he continued with, “You went out there alone tonight. You could’ve been hurt climbing over that fence.” He looked up at me, blue eyes boring into mine. “And what if you weren’t alone, huh? Few years back a woman got raped in that parking lot at night.” He paused, gritting his teeth again, and I knew he was fighting to keep his control. “You’d rather put yourself in danger than tell me the truth. You have any idea how fucked up that is?”

  I hadn’t even considered that he would see it that way.

  Guilt clogged in my chest and tears formed in my eyes. The next words that came out of my mouth were barely a whisper. “I didn’t put myself in danger…I didn’t go alone. I took a friend with me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Which friend?”

  I forced the word from my mouth. “Finn.”

  I saw the shock play across his face as his eyes darted back and forth between mine. For some reason, that was way worse than the shouting. Then he snorted a rough laugh; dark, acid humor spiked the air around him. “Well, fuck. The hits just keep on coming.”