Interlude (Rockstar #4)

by Anne Mercier

  "All right," Ben murmurs.

  "We'll find something to do when we hit St. Louis and get the hell away from this fucking bus and those Burners fuckers," I tell them.

  "Cool," Kennedy mutters.

  Everyone agrees and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  "Let's get cleaned up and grab some breakfast at the next rest stop," Jerry suggests.

  "Sounds good," Jesse agrees.

  My stomach growls. "Yeah. I could go for some bacon. Lots of bacon."

  "You always want bacon," Kennedy chides.

  I grin. "Fuck yeah, dude. Bacon equals meat candy."

  Kennedy snorts.

  When the others are far enough away, Kennedy looks at me.

  "Crisis averted."

  I nod, but think, for now. The look in his eyes tells me he's thinking the exact same thing.

  Chapter Seven

  Jesse

  Past

  Thankfully the guys have all chilled out since the blowup and threats of the band breaking up. I don't want to do it, but I would. I won't let my brother get swept up into the life of drugs and all the bullshit Lucian and Burners have going on.

  St. Louis is a great break for us. We've got a house to stay in for five days, instead of three, since we don't have to get to Dallas for a week. The house is fucking huge, and right now we're all kicked back in the media room.

  A commercial comes on and there she is. I lean forward, my heart kicks up, and I can't take my eyes off of the screen. She's four years older now, curvier, and still so fucking beautiful.

  "What's with you?" Xander asks.

  I nod my head toward the screen. "That's her."

  "Her, who?" Ethan asks.

  "Lucy."

  Xander's brows lift. "The airport chick?"

  "Yeah," I tell him, still unable to look away from the TV where Lucy Russo is doing a suntan lotion commercial in a bikini. Her sun-kissed skin beautifully flawless, her breasts full within the confines of the not-so-modest bikini, and her perfectly rounded ass on display for all to see in the skimpy bottoms. I frown.

  "She's fucking hot, dude. Her ass is prime," Xander leers.

  "Motherfucker, talk about her ass one more time and you'll be swallowing your teeth," I seethe, seeing red.

  "Whoa." Xander holds his hands up. "Dude, you've got it bad and you don't even know her."

  I glance at him when the commercial ends. "I know enough."

  "Let's look up this Lucy," Kennedy says, grabbing his laptop. "Full name?"

  "Luciana Russo."

  Ben walks into the room. "I remember you talking about that chick. What's going on?"

  "She was just in a commercial and Jesse's going to kick Xan's ass for commenting on her ass," Ethan tells him, taking the beer Ben offers.

  "Dude," is all Ben says.

  "Shut the fuck up. I know, all right?" I tell him. Shit. There is something about her. I've never been able to forget her. Hell, sometimes I fantasize about her when I'm jacking off or fucking a random chick. I imagine the sounds she'd make, how she'd smell, how hot and tight she'd be. Fuck. Just thinking about her is getting me hard.

  "Luciana Antonia Russo. Born in Chicago. Let me skim this bullshit that I'm sure you already know. Ah, here we go," Kennedy announces.

  He starts naming off television shows and movies she's been in.

  Kennedy raises his brows. "That last one is still going. Three seasons worth."

  "I bet Cage Dude could get those to us before we get back on the road. At least we'd have something to watch on the bus," Xander suggests.

  "Hell yeah," Ethan agrees. "I heard that show is cool as shit."

  "I bet the movies are all romantic and shit," Ben murmurs unhappily.

  "Chick flicks," Xander agrees with a nod.

  I just look at them. "You fuckers don't want to watch 'em, don't watch 'em." I pick up my cell and leave the room.

  "Nichols."

  "Hey man," I say. This is fucking awkward. It shouldn't be. It's not like I don't ask the man for shit all the time. But this is different. This is about her.

  "What's going on, Jesse?" he asks.

  "Nothing much. Relaxing."

  "Good. I know this tour was a long one. We'll shorten the next one up."

  I nod, even though he can't see me. "Cool. We needed a break."

  "I'm sure, but I'm also sure that's not why you called."

  "No. I called because I know you've got connections," I tell him.

  "Are you in some kind of trouble?" Cage asks.

  "Nah, nothing like that man. There's this chick…" I begin, and Cage remains quiet. "Luciana Russo."

  "What about her?" Cage barks out, sounding almost protective.

  "I met her in the Chicago airport four years ago with her sister and… I don't know man, there's just something about her that's stuck with me." Christ. I sound like a total pussy.

  "Go on," Cage encourages.

  "So, yeah, me and the guys just saw her in a commercial and Kennedy looked her up. You think you can get copies of all her movies and that TV show she's in right now?" Yep, total pussy.

  Silence. One long beat of silence where I'm tempted to reach down between my legs and make sure my balls are still there.

  "I think that can be arranged. I can have them to you tomorrow," he tells me.

  "Sounds good, man. Thanks."

  "Anytime," he replies, and with that he hangs up.

  I stand there, leaning against the wall, wondering what the hell it is about this girl—no. She's a woman now. What is it about her that draws me in? I shake my head. I have no fucking idea.

  "What'd he say?" Xander asks, coming into the kitchen.

  "He's gonna hook us up. Should be here sometime tomorrow."

  He nods. "Good. Maybe it'll be enough to distract those fuckers in there from all the bullshit they've been pulling."

  I fist bump him. "Let's hope."

  I don't want to think about the alternative.

  "Damn, dude, your chick is awesome," Xander tells me as we take a break from our movie-a-thon. My chest fills with pride. She's not really mine—not yet—but I can't help but feel proud of Lucy. She's amazing.

  Kennedy leans forward. "Her cousin, Serafina Manzini." He turns the laptop around and all of our jaws drop. Ben lets out a wolf whistle.

  "A fucking model," Ethan says with a shake of his head.

  "Yeah," I say, rubbing my hand over my heart. "I wonder if they're the same nice girls I met in Chicago or if this life has changed them," I speculate aloud.

  "Don't know," Kennedy answers. "There's only one way to know."

  "Yeah," I reply, knowing he means to see her and talk to her.

  Xander scoffs. "Pussy."

  "Fuck off, man. I'm not ready to find out the answer to that question. When I am ready, I'll find a way to make it happen," I tell him with a sneer.

  "Whatever floats your boat," Xander tells me.

  "I gotta piss before we start the next episode," Ben announces.

  "I need a beer." And I need to forget about this woman. She's too young, I'm too fucked up, and I'd likely destroy her. Yeah. I need to forget about her—for now.

  Chapter Eight

  Cage

  Past

  Watching Sera turn on the runway, the scent of her perfume drifting over me, has my heartbeat picking up. The long, pale green gown flows perfectly with the lines of her body, flaring out to curtain her feet, gliding along like a silken cloud.

  She's beautiful, beyond beautiful. At twenty-one she's gorgeous. They've put her hair up in some fancy twist, curly tendrils framing her heavily made-up face—too heavily. I prefer Sera when she's just her. Natural. She doesn't need all those cosmetics to make her stunning—it's simply Sera.

  She spots me on the side of the runway with Giovanni and sends us a smirk and a wink. I'm tempted to wink back, just to see what her reaction would be, but I'm afraid she'd stumble out of shock. Here is not the ideal place to give her a hint as to my feelings for her.

/>   "She's unaware of why we're here," Gio tells me.

  I nod. "I know."

  "Those fucking Manzinis need to watch themselves. They mess with my family and we will destroy them."

  I merely nod again. "They come anywhere near Sera and I'll take them all out myself."

  Gio smirks. "Are you ever going to tell her?"

  I shrug. "In time."

  He nods.

  "How did you explain the extra security to Lucy?" I ask.

  "I just mentioned it was coming up on the anniversary of Lily and Tommy's death," he informs me.

  "Enough said."

  "Exactly. But our Serafina, she's not so easily convinced. She knows when something's amiss. She gets that from Carlotta. They both know too much all of the time," he scoffs.

  I grunt. "Nana Russo's mojo."

  Gio looks at me, amused. "What?"

  "Nana Russo's mojo. That's what Lucy and Sera call it."

  Gio lets out a laugh. "That's perfect."

  "And accurate," I say with a lift of a brow.

  Gio nods. "Too true. The woman is amazing."

  "And now that's passed on to Sera," I murmur, not sure if it's a blessing or a curse.

  He laughs again. "Good luck, Nickels. You're going to need it."

  Of that I've no doubt.

  Lucy and Sera are on the set for Crashed's latest video—the ladies' first—and they're both nervous as hell. I hide my smirk.

  "Ladies."

  "Hi Cage," Lucy says.

  "I'm so nervous," Sera confesses. "This is Crashed. God. It's so surreal!"

  "You'll both be fine," I reassure them. "Just do things how we discussed and you'll be great."

  Lucy blows out a breath and nods. Sera clutches my hand like a lifeline and I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side and kissing the top of her head. She smells so good, like coconut and pineapple.

  The guys walk on stage and after brief introductions, we get underway. I laugh to myself when I see Sera and Lucy singing the song out loud, the guys from Crashed watching them with amused stares. When the two girls start dancing, grinding, and jumping around, I knew I was right. These two girls are perfect for this video.

  When the music stops the guys clap, and Sera and Lucy blush and cover their faces when they realize what they just did. They both look to me. I'm sitting in a chair, my elbow propped on the armrest, my index and middle fingers sliding up my face while the others are curled beneath my jaw. Their fear is palpable. They think I'm going to be upset. These two. Such great women. Who can be mad at them for enjoying themselves? That's what the music videos are about.

  "Oh my God, Cage," Lucy begins. "I'm so sorry."

  Sera just groans and bites her lip. I'd like to do that for her. One day.

  I get up out of my chair and walk to where they're fidgeting. "What are you sorry for?"

  They both look confused, the band still amused.

  "You've no reason to be sorry. Your enthusiasm and love of music is why you were chosen for this video. While you did get a bit carried away," I say with a grin, while the band members chuckle, "some of that will make good footage."

  Lucy grins. "Yeah?"

  I nod.

  "Well then." She jumps around and hugs Adam Bentley, the singer of Crashed.

  "You two are a breath of fresh air. No more uptight models who want nothing more than to claw their way to the top, thinking fucking us will get them there. You two are sensational," he tells them with a wide smile. "Cage, you did good."

  I nod. Of course I did. I know my girls and I also know I wouldn't put them with just anyone for their first shoot. I considered putting them with Falling Down, considering their meeting in Chicago and the affect it had on both of them, but she's still too young and Jesse needs to find his way out of the hell the band has found themselves in as of late. I have faith he will, and when he does, then it'll be time to put the two in the same place at the same time.

  "Places and let's go again," I tell them, and Sera smiles at me. My heart leaps. I give her a wink and her eyes widen, along with that beautiful smile.

  She adds an extra sway to her hips and I catch the guitarist checking her out. When he looks my way I narrow my eyes and he nods in understanding.

  This time when they start up the song, the girls are on their marks, but their enthusiasm is still off the charts. This video is going to be a killer.

  After the filming of the video is finished, I don't see her for a while—nearly a month. She's been working and we've been holding the Manzinis at bay. We've formed a truce—which will be temporary, of course. The Manzinis never hold true to their word.

  She doesn't deserve that last name. She's so much more than that name implies. Serafina Manzini. She's beautiful with her long dark hair, dark eyes, and pretty pink lips—lips that were made to be kissed. By me.

  She's standing in the rain—correction: she's crying in the rain. I'm unsure if I should approach her or not, but when she sees me, her eyes widening, I know I have to go to her.

  She's furiously wiping at the mascara-smudged trail of tears on her cheeks. I reach for my handkerchief. She just stares at me, while tears continue to fall unchecked from her eyes. I reach out and gently wipe away the makeup from her face, even as more tears stream from those gorgeous brown eyes.

  "What's hurting you, Fee?" I ask, saying aloud the nickname I use in my mind. She looks at me confused for a second, then a small smirk forms on her lips. Thank God. I hadn't meant to say that, but seeing her distressed brought out the need to nurture her. The need to hold her close is strong, and if I could get away with it without there being any awkwardness afterward, I would do that very thing.

  "I—it's the anniversary of my parents’ death," she sobs.

  "I'm so sorry, Sera," I murmur. I should have known what today was, but I'd gotten distracted by business. I look to her, hurting so deeply, and then I say fuck it, and pull her into my chest. She wraps her arms around my waist, fisting her hands in the back of the jacket of my suit. She pours her soul into this purge of pain. I feel the grief releasing from her slender body as she weeps with a heart-wrenching, body-shaking intensity that has me holding her up when her legs buckle beneath her.

  When her sobs die down to soft hiccups, I continue to stroke her hair and murmur nonsensical comforts to her, even as the rain cascades at a steady pace from the sky.

  She begins to shiver and I lift her into my arms, carrying her to my car. I put her into the passenger side, buckling her seatbelt, then I head to the trunk for the blanket I store there. I return to her shaking form and cover her, tucking the blanket around her trembling form.

  I hurry around to the driver's side and turn the car on, turning the heat up as hot and high as it goes. It doesn't matter that it's in the seventies in California and I'm sweating. All that matters is Sera. Whatever she needs, I will give her.

  Instead of taking her back to Lucy's house, I take her to mine. Her head is still bowed, her hair hanging in wet strings, blocking my view of her pretty face. I pull to a stop, then make my way to her side of the car. I open the door and unbuckle her seatbelt. When I go to lift her into my arms, she immediately wraps her arms around my neck—that's when I know, without a doubt, I made the right decision.

  I greet the guard at the door and tell him, "Not a word of this to anyone," and he nods his assent.

  I carry my sweet Fee to my room, then make my way to the bathroom. I stand her up and she stays clinging to me.

  "Fee, you need a hot bath so you don't get sick from standing in the cold rain for so long. We have to warm you up," I tell her. "I'm just going to turn the water on and I'll help you, okay?"

  She looks up at me with those eyes that now resemble the color of cinnamon, her lips trembling, her face red from crying. She is, quite simply, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

  "Okay?" I ask again and she nods slightly.

  I turn on the bath water and remove my suit jacket that's dripping all over the fl
oor. I toe off my shoes and slip off my socks. I remove my tie, unbutton my shirt, then roll up the sleeves before approaching her.

  "You should change," she whispers. "So you don't get sick either."

  I study her closely, and see within her the same thing within myself, and that tells me I should change so she doesn't feel guilty or worry about me. All that matters is her.

  I nod. "I'll be right back."

  She sits on the bench in the corner and slips off her shoes.

  By the time I return to the bathroom in a pair of pajama pants, it's only been maybe two minutes. I hadn't even bothered with a shirt, but Sera's managed to undress herself completely by that time. Her jean shorts and halter top in a heap on the floor, along with her lacy undergarments.

  Hell. If I'd seen her in just those lacy underthings… Then it hits me. Fuck. She's naked under that towel. I grit my teeth and strengthen my resolve. This isn't about sexuality or attraction right now. It's about friendship and comfort and my dick will just have to accept that fact.

  I check the water and hold my hand out for her.

  She reaches out for mine, grasping it firmly, the other hand going to the knot in her towel, undoing it and letting it drop to the floor as she walks up the three steps to the Jacuzzi. I can't help the breath that stalls in my lungs, but either she doesn't notice it or pretends not to, as she steps to the Jacuzzi platform, then slowly, as her fingers continue to hold mine, she steps into the warm, bubbling water. When the water swallows her body and I can no longer see that perfection, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  I note her hair dipping into the water and I walk to the cabinet in the hallway. I grab some of Joan's hair things and walk back into the bathroom where I find Sera watching the door wide-eyed and afraid. When I enter the room, her eyes droop in relief.

  "Hey, hey," I murmur as I approach her. "I was just getting some things for your hair." I hold out my hand where pins and rubber bands and I don't even know what else are sitting.

  Her eyebrows pucker into a frown. "You have women's hair pins?"