As the cab took off, she dug her phone out of her camera bag and frowned.
“Something wrong?”
“No, just a few texts from my roommate, Emily, making sure I’m okay.” She wrote out a rapid message and sent it.
“She worries about you?”
“We check in. Safety thing.”
She’d taken steps to stay secure by not accepting drinks from men in bars and confirming she was okay with a friend. “Give her my number.”
She looked up. “Why?”
“You’ll be with me a lot, right? If she can’t reach you, she can reach me.” He’d begun to feel protective in his house, but after that scene in the club, he’d gone downright caveman. She’d been hurt somehow, but what really got him was the way she’d stood her ground despite the terror in her eyes. No compromise. She’d been clear—she was not taking that drink.
“You know, Cade, you’re pretty recognizable from being on Court of Rock. You might not want to give out your number to just anyone.”
He grinned at her, amazed at how quickly she’d recovered. “Is your roommate a crazy stalker type?”
“I’d say she’s more protective than stalkerish. Usually.”
The affection in Liza’s voice told him enough. “I’ll risk it. Give her my number.”
She did and slid her phone away. “Thanks.”
“So what’s the deal with your ex? Looks like he wants you back.”
She shook her head. “Not in the way you mean. We dated a couple months. He didn’t pry a lot into my past, and I was relieved. But then his father, who’s a state senator up in Sacramento and paying for Dillion’s education, got wind of our dating. Either searched the Internet or did a background check.” Turning away, she leaned toward the window. “His father found out my mother’s in prison, which led him to finding out who I am, and he insisted that Dillion stop seeing me.”
In prison. Given what Liza had told him earlier today, her mom had been there since Liza was fourteen. Six, almost seven years so far, which meant her crime had been serious. But what did Liza mean about who she was?
He opened his mouth, then shut it on his questions about her mom. Liza had pressed herself into the corner of the cab, her eyes fixed on the window. She fiddled with her wide watch, absently scratching the skin of her inner wrist.
She looked so damned alone and vulnerable.
He knew too well what that felt like. His mom had abandoned him to rot in jail, and Justice’d had no way to reach his dad who was trapped in a mental prison of his own. He’d never felt so deserted and powerless, so stripped of all defenses as he had then. If his own parents hadn’t wanted him, why would the world? It was one of things he loved about performing. When he sang onstage or met with fans, they wanted him and in some cases, even fought over him. The attention fed that lonely, scared boy in him and gave him a real sense of power. Now he was driven to attain a level of fame that would guarantee he’d never be that helpless again.
But seeing Liza tucked in her corner yanked at the pit of his belly. He wrapped his hand around hers and caressed her fingers to get them to relax. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” He could see how hard it was to talk about her mom, so he circled back to their original subject. “What’s this about him having a fiancée?”
“That’s part two of Daddy’s demand. Once he broke up with me, he proposed to the girl Daddy had all picked out.”
“What a pussy. You’re over him, right?”
“Oh yeah. And he made sure of it by what he did after he broke up with me.”
There was more? He rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “Do you want to tell me?”
“He wanted us to still have sex. He explained he couldn’t be seen in places where his father would get wind of it, and he’d have to go home to see his fiancée to keep the peace, but he’d shoot me a text when he was free.”
Un-fucking-believable. “I should have hit him. Hell, I should have pounded his face into the floor for that.”
Her hand tensed. “No fighting. It’s not your problem. Besides, I can handle Dillion. He’s mad because he lost his plaything.”
Swallowing his anger, he released her hand, put his arm around her and tugged her against his side. “You told him to go fuck himself, yeah?”
“Absolutely,” she said as the cab pulled up in front of his house.
Justice paid and walked Liza to her car. A low-grade dread settled in his gut—he wasn’t ready for her to leave. This girl fascinated him too damn much. Watching her power through her fears tonight had grabbed hold of him and wouldn’t let go.
Realizing they’d stopped walking, he got out of his own head and frowned at the ancient Toyota Corolla. “Is this thing safe?”
“It’s fine. I need to get it in for an oil change. Of course they’ll tell me I need seven more things, and I never know if they’re telling the truth or up-selling, because cars… I can put gas in, and that’s it.”
Justice blinked at the onslaught of words. Ironic that he had to pry information out of her for most stuff, but this she spilled out. Amused, he asked, “Cars make you nervous?”
She eyed him. “Do I look like an engineer to you?”
Oh yeah, she’d recovered. “Hmm, you’re wearing glasses, does that count? But I don’t see a pocket protector so…” He was fighting like hell not to drop his gaze to her boobs. He’d watched her all night, which fucked with his original plan to blow off some steam in a night of hard sex. Instead, this girl had him by the balls. But she wasn’t looking for a hookup.
“I’m a communications major, not a mechanical engineer. However, I’m proficient enough at math to know I can’t afford anything but the oil change. So I’ll give them the starving-college-student spiel, then they’ll ignore me to help customers who they have a better chance at up-selling. Good times.” She took a breath. “And I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”
Because she felt the connection and attraction too. He’d known it when she leaned back against him after confirming that someone had drugged her. Slowly her muscles had relaxed, her body soft and pliant in his arms, the peach scent of her hair making him ache to turn her around and kiss her. He’d leashed the impulse. As much as he wanted to taste her mouth and a hell of a lot more, a victorious pleasure had warmed him at winning a little of her trust. “Tell you what, after practice tomorrow, bring your car over and I’ll change your oil.”
She stared at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get it taken care of. I was just venting.”
He believed her. She appeared very capable, but changing the oil on an older car wasn’t a big deal for him, and it’d give him an excuse to hang out with her. Alone, not with the other guys around. He’d shared her enough tonight. To make her an offer she’d feel comfortable with, he said, “How about I do it in exchange for you helping me in the yard?”
Interest flickered in her eyes. “Helping how?”
He hadn’t thought it through that far. “I don’t know. Help me hire a gardener?”
She laughed. “How about I weed, prune and feed the roses, and take a look at everything else?”
Reaching for her car door, he smiled at her enthusiasm. “You really do like gardening, don’t you?”
“It’s fun, unlike cars.”
“We need to work on your idea of fun.”
She tilted her head. “I had fun tonight.”
Did she have any idea how sweet and pretty she looked standing there in the soft moonlight? “Are you surprised?”
“Yeah. You’re not what I expected, Justice.”
The words slid out of her in a confessed whisper and stripped the lid off his desire. It made him want to touch and kiss her, but he only allowed himself to stroke her cheek. “Same here. I’m attracted to you. More with each passing moment. Go home, Liza. Or this is going to move faster than you’re ready for.”
“I don’t know…”
“I know someone drugged you and likely hurt you.” A wave of fury burn
ed his veins at that thought. “I can tell you straight up, right now, I want you in my bed. But I’m not going to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow, you really aren’t subtle.”
“Nope. If you say no, it’s no. Just like you told me tonight you wouldn’t take a drink from me or any man. Got it?”
She studied him for a few seconds before answering, “Yes.”
A minute later as he watched her drive off, he had to wonder what the fuck he was doing. He was home in San Diego to win Court of Rock.
Not to get involved with a girl who had complicated written all over her.
* * *
What happened when five perfectionists practiced together?
Liza watched the answer as Simon and River got in each other’s faces, arguing about a bass solo versus guitar. An hour ago another argument had broken out about the correct way to say Scaramouche in “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
In another moment, they’d be laughing, or one telling the other they’d done something stellar.
Finally the practice ended, and it was time for Liza to talk to Simon. Ignoring her anxiety, she went up on the stage. “Guys, I need you for a minute.”
Simon glanced at his phone. “Make it quick. I want to be out of here before the next band arrives.”
Which would be Jagged Sin. “Well, first.” She couldn’t hold back her excitement as she held up her phone. “Have you seen your Facebook page? You already have almost four hundred more likes. All your engagement numbers are rising. I posted pictures from practice yesterday, plus at Screech’s last night.”
Justice took her phone and scrolled. “Damn, she’s right.”
“Good shot of me.” Lynx glanced over Justice’s shoulder. “My arms are buff around that blonde.”
Simon asked, “What’s the Savage Shout-out tag on the pictures?”
“That’s one of my ideas. I started with last night’s party at Screech’s. I linked to Screech’s Facebook page too, so people there could see you, and your fans can see the nightclub page.” While all of them studied their phones, she went on, “I outlined my plans and sent you all emails. I have your schedules. For this week, you only have the USS Midway aircraft carrier museum event on Saturday. Starting Monday you have a big week with some morning shows, the meet and greet autograph sessions at the school, the Indie Rock Broadcast interview, and I want to add in some shoots around town called Savage Shout-outs. We’ll go to various places and send a shout-out on social media from the location and use that tag.”
“Great cross promotion,” Simon said.
“Good.” That was the easy part. She steeled herself for the next item. “I talked to the Court of Rock promotions department. The new promo packages will be released Monday night during prime time, even though the show itself is on hiatus for the week. They want to really build up the anticipation for the final two shows after the break.” It was Thursday now, so that gave them a few days to prepare, if Simon cooperated. That was a huge if.
The man raised his head slowly, eyes like frozen amber. “Are they including what Ace said about my wife?”
“I don’t know.” The words hung there like an ax about to fall. “We need to be proactive and get ahead of the story.”
He stayed as still as a concrete pillar. “How?”
Wiping her slick palms on her pants, she said, “You have to tell the world first.”
“No.” He spun and stalked to the stairs.
Damn it. Liza chased after him and grabbed his arm. Desperation to make him understand beat so hard, she spilled out, “Do you care about her memory, Simon? Because let me tell you, if it comes out in an accusation that you were the reason she took her life, then it’s going to be ugly, and not just for you. For her…people don’t care if she’s a victim, they’ll rip her apart and judge her. Think they know what she felt and thought, and crucify her for being weak or foolish. They’ll find every detail of her life and spread it like a bad case of stomach flu. You don’t know.” Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard.
Don’t talk about it, Liza. You’re making it worse. People are judging you. Us. Just keep your head down and stay quiet. The pain and despair that had beat at her constantly was a horrible pressure in her chest. Liza hadn’t been able to escape the emotional pain, not even in sleep. Every day it had built and built with no relief. And she was hushed anytime she tried to express herself, leaving her afraid if she did, she’d be thrown out of the only family she had remaining. She remembered the unrelenting emotional pain of being silenced and judged, and how it had driven her to cutting herself in a desperate attempt to make it stop.
She shook it off and pulled herself together to do her job of helping Simon defend his wife’s memory. “She can’t speak for herself now. Give her a voice before someone else does it. If you care about her, stand for her. Because if you don’t, you’re handing Ace and Court of Rock a loaded gun, and you don’t know where, when or how they’ll fire it.”
Weighty stares pinged against her back, but she kept her gaze on Simon, willing him to hear her and understand. Unless he was so damned cold he really didn’t care. She held her breath, praying there was a beating heart under that ice.
The angry chill around him cracked, and he closed his eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
Relief eased her shoulder muscles. “The band has an interview with the local morning show on Monday. If you talk about it then, you’ll get ahead of any promo packages. But we have to keep it top secret. I’ll have an information packet from the show by this weekend, and we’ll figure out how you can reveal her story with the most respect.” She touched his arm again. “I’ll help you prepare.”
“Fine. I hope you’re right. It’s bad enough I let her down in life.” Simon headed down the stairs, with Lynx, River and Gray behind him.
Justice laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s clear out before Jagged Assholes show up for their practice.”
Snapping out of her thoughts, she grabbed her messenger bag, and the two of them walked out. Once outside, she noted the other band members had already left. “They didn’t waste any time getting out of here.”
Justice paused by the taillights of her car. He was a few spaces over. “Only way to avoid bloodshed. We’re trying to keep Simon and Ace separated.” Leaning his guitar against her bumper, he said, “See you at the house? I picked up some oil for your car this morning, so we’re all set.”
Did he have to look so hot? Liza couldn’t get the memory of dancing with him out of her head. The way he’d looked, his scent, and his arms holding her close. The feeling of Justice was too addictive. She’d barely slept last night thinking about him. Half of her screamed, Run. Don’t get involved. He’s a fame-chaser.
The other half couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of Justice. Even now, with the two of them standing a couple feet apart, his energy crackled over her, almost like a force field.
He made her feel alive, not shoved into a silent corner.
“You’re thinking too hard. It’s just an oil change, not a date.”
Except he’d told her last night exactly what he wanted from her, and damned if she wasn’t tempted. Getting involved with a rock star was dangerous to her. For three years, she’d had anonymity. Her whole experience with Dillion had threatened that when his dad investigated her. She’d been terrified he’d tell everyone who she was. Taking this job threatened it too, but she’d assumed she’d keep a low profile, and who would know? Yet she’d already told Justice that her mom was in prison. Don’t do it. Just don’t. “I—”
Brakes squealed and an engine roared. Liza spun, barely catching a glimpse of the massive chrome grill before Justice slammed into her. Lifting her off the ground, he lunged several feet, shoved her back against her car and pinned her there.
“Next time I won’t miss,” a voice shouted.
Her heart thumped, and her ears buzzed. Stunned, she tried to figure out what just happened. Tilting her head back, sh
e got a close-up view of Justice’s rigid jaw and cold eyes glaring to the right. “Justice?”
He shifted his gaze to her. “Did I hurt you?” He eased her onto her feet but stayed pressed against her.
Uh…she didn’t think so. “No, I just… What happened?”
“Ace and his drummer, Mick, gunned their truck right for us then swerved. Bastards.”
Liza couldn’t look away from Justice to see where Ace and Mick were now. With his body pressed against hers, his chest crushing her breasts, his breath fanning her face, flutters skimmed her belly. All her vivid awareness shifted from the threat of danger to the man who captivated her. She saw the second Justice felt it too. His gaze slid to her mouth. Would he kiss her? The moment stretched out, the air thickening.
Justice stepped back, opened her door and held it. “Lock your car. I’ll see you at my house.”
“But—”
He leaned down. “I don’t want them following you home and harassing you.”
“Would they do that?”
Tension threaded his gaze. “They want to win, and they can’t do it on talent alone. If they scare you off and claim our publicist quit, that makes us look bad, and we lose votes. They’re assholes, Liza. Stay clear of them.”
She glanced over to see the two men standing by their truck watching them. Cold dread dripped down her spine. What would Jagged Sin do if they found out who she was?
For that matter, what would Justice do?
* * *
Justice changed the oil, washed, and detailed Liza’s car, trying to burn off the anger.
And lust. Desire. A throbbing need that left him aching to kiss her.
It was bad enough Ace had gunned the truck toward him. But once the moment had passed, Justice had become powerfully aware of her soft curves pressed against his body and her full lips enticing him mercilessly.
Christ. He’d damn near kissed her right there in front of Ace and Mick. He didn’t want them using her. The girl made him lose his head.
Taking the chicken out of the hot oil, he put it on a rack to drain and got to work mashing the potatoes with butter. A soft sound caught his attention. Turning, he took in the view of Liza. After spending two hours working in his yard, her face was flushed, her eyes sparking behind her glasses. She’d cleaned up and changed out of the shorts and T-shirt she’d gardened in, putting on the jeans and shirt she’d worn to practice, sans the sweater.
Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1 Page 6
