Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1

by Jennifer Lyon

  Her trust had his chest puffing up. “I’m glad you told me.”

  Her expression dimmed. “I’m not sure what we’re doing here. I don’t want people to know who I am, and you…”

  Worry bit into his earlier pride. “I want the whole world to know me and our band. I have to make it. I have to.” His mom had told him he was nothing, a screwup. His dad couldn’t be around him and chose the streets over him. The only one who’d believed in him had been his grandmother. He couldn’t let her down.

  If he didn’t make it, he was a loser. Not good enough for his grandmother.

  Or anyone.

  “What are we doing then?” she asked. “We want different things. I wanted you to understand, I don’t know what I can handle. And you…you can’t be held back from your dream.”

  He couldn’t bear the idea of her walking out now. “We’ll figure it out. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.” She’d come to him, told him her secrets, that had to mean something. “Do you want to be with me enough to try? Or do you want to call it quits?” She had to want their relationship too.

  Had to want him enough to stay. He’d find a way to protect her. But right now, he waited for her answer, every beat of his heart growing more painful.

  It’d been hard enough when she’d walked out of his room earlier. He didn’t want to lose her.

  Finally she said, “I want you. For as long as it lasts.”

  He leaned down and kissed her, tasting the woman he was already starting to care about and need.

  Too damn much.

  Chapter 8

  Monday morning, Liza stood in the wings of the morning show set, desperately trying not to fidget. Had she made the right call pushing Simon to talk about his dead wife?

  Or would it backfire?

  Time to find out. She focused on the five members of Savaged Illusions sitting on the half-moon-shaped red couch with the show host, Missy, in the center. On her right were Gray, Lynx and River, on her left, Justice and Simon. They were all doing pretty well, although Gray was quiet on the end, the other four personalities overshadowing his calmer demeanor.

  Missy moved to the final question. “All the women want to know—are any of you guys in a relationship with some lucky girl?”

  River shouted out, “Dozens! Love you all, ladies!”

  The audience laughed.

  Missy focused to her left. “What about you, Simon? Is there a special woman for you?”

  Liza’s heart slammed up her throat. This was it.

  She had to be right, because if she was wrong, she didn’t think Simon would forgive her. And he was important to Justice, so she couldn’t let him down.

  Simon slowly leaned forward, settling his elbows on his thighs. He dropped his head for a beat, then raised his chin, his eyes on the camera. “Just one. My late wife. Her name was Julie.”

  The audience reacted with stuttered sounds of shock.

  Chill bumps rippled down Liza’s arms. Despite knowing he’d talk about his wife, the way he said it was a gut punch. So real, everyone in the room could feel Simon’s love and loss.

  Missy rose and motioned for Justice to slide over on the couch. The show’s host sat next to Simon. “What happened?”

  The camera tightened in on the two of them.

  Simon turned to Missy. “We were both ambitious and driven. Julie was an actress and dancer, and she’d gotten a callback for a made-for-TV movie. She was so excited. I was supposed to be there, but I got a gig. At the time I was pursuing a solo artist career.” Simon shifted his gaze to the audience. “She asked me to come home just for that night, you know? In case they gave her bad news. My wife had anxiety issues, but this was my chance too. I was opening for a huge name. So I told Julie I’d call as soon as I could, and I headed off to Vegas.”

  The entire room held their breath, waiting for Simon to go on. Liza was impressed with the morning show host; she didn’t jump in to fill his pause. She seemed to have excellent instincts, or she was just as caught up in the story as everyone else.

  Simon shifted on the seat, as if the memory dug at him. “That night I called her, there was no answer. So I performed my opening set. When I finished, I called Julie again, and still no answer. No messages or texts. I started to get pissed. I left a couple messages telling her to stop being a drama queen.”

  Liza squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God. Poor Simon.

  “I was angry,” he went on, his voice heavy with brutal regret. “But I had to go home and check on her. I got to our apartment about four a.m. So early…and too late. Too damned late.” He dropped his head. “She was dead from an overdose. I found her on the couch. She’d written all over her body in black marker, Too Fat. Casting director told me to my face, Too Fat. Everywhere I looked on my beautiful girl were the ugly words: Too Fat.”

  Simon pulled his gaze up. “Part of me died that day. I won’t love again. Can’t. All I have now is my music.”

  Missy said softly, “I think I can speak for the audience here in the studio and at home, we’re all heartbroken by the cruelty your wife suffered and by your loss.”

  Simon slowly nodded. “Thank you. Julie didn’t have to die. I’ll never forgive myself for not being there when she needed me. But there’s a bigger responsibility here. Words matter. I don’t care how big and powerful a person is, they don’t get a free pass. Words matter. And on that day four years ago, thoughtlessly cruel and needlessly vicious words killed my wife.”

  Missy turned to the camera. “We’ll be right back after these messages.”

  Staff swarmed the set, removing mic packs and ushering the guys out the door. Liza hurried out into the long hallway and caught up to Simon. Touching his arm, she said, “Oh, Simon, I’m so sorry. But you did something important today, telling the world that words matter.” Liza’s throat tightened in sympathy for that woman. She knew what it felt like when vicious words played over and over in your head, until the only thing that existed was the truth of those words. The need to just make them stop, to end the pain. But Simon had stood up for Julie, told the world his wife hadn’t deserved that. “Your love for her showed.”

  He stared down at her, his jaw slicing from side to side, fury and pain rolling off him. “Don’t sugarcoat it. I used my wife’s death to win. That’s who I am.” He strode out.

  A hand settled on her shoulder.

  She turned to see Justice staring after Simon.

  “I’d hoped he’d feel better. He did the right thing by getting control of the story before Ace or Court of Rock uses it for their own gain.” Liza added, “And he sent a powerful message that words matter and we all need to be responsible for the things we say.”

  Justice rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. “He knows that, or he wouldn’t have done it. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t forgive himself.”

  She didn’t have an answer for that. Almost seven years and she still hadn’t forgiven herself for wrecking so many lives. Even knowing the rape itself wasn’t her fault, she’d set it all in motion with her bad decisions. Just like Julie’s suicide wasn’t Simon’s fault, but some of his decisions likely made him feel he didn’t do enough to be there for her. “Maybe getting it out in the open will help.”

  As soon as the words were out, she internally cringed. She kept her secrets but asked Simon to reveal his. Hypocrite much?

  “Hey, Justice.” River strode up them. “We have a meeting in less than an hour.”

  “I’ll catch you guys there, going to walk Liza to her car.” Justice shifted his gaze to her. “Where are you parked?”

  “Public lot outside.”

  He took her hand, and they headed out into the bright sunshine.

  Curious, she asked, “What meeting do you have?” It wasn’t anything she had on the Court of Rock schedule for the band.

  “With Christine Castle.”

  It took her a second to place the name. Oh right, that was the woman Liza’d met briefly at Screech’s Nightclub. “The business manager.” />
  “Yep. She’s very interested in us now that we have a real shot at signing with Tangent. She’s driving out here from Los Angeles to meet with us, so she’s serious.”

  “You want to sign with her?” She tugged him toward her little car tucked among all the big SUVs. Stopping, she reached into her purse for her keys.

  Justice eased her back against the door, looming over her, body vibrating with a low-grade energy as he stared down at her. “What I want is to kiss you.”

  Her body answered with her own tremors. Not fear, oh no. Awareness. Anticipation. Why hadn’t having sex with him taken the edge off? How could she want him more?

  He leaned down, brushing his mouth over hers. His fingers slid into her hair and his tongue into her mouth.

  Her belly unknotted, melting the tension she’d been carrying all morning into a pool of warm desire.

  He pulled back. “I’ve wanted to do that since you showed up at the studio this morning looking so damned sexy.”

  She’d paired a long-sleeved, black-and-cream tunic with black leggings and ankle boots. “Me? You’re the one who had the audience screaming when the morning host introduced you.” Wait, was that jealousy? Not good. She had to keep some common sense and boundaries. She wasn’t her mom, she had her own life.

  “Fans are awesome. We couldn’t do this without them. But you’re the only girl I can’t stop thinking about.” He touched a tendril of her hair. “I walked you to your car for a reason.”

  “To kiss me?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I’m always thinking about kissing you. Licking you. Hearing your cries as I thrust into you.”

  She closed her eyes, sucking in air. The things he did to her—this couldn’t be normal.

  His palm settled on her cheek. “But also to ask you to go to dinner with me tonight.” He hesitated a second, then added, “Out to a restaurant, anywhere you want to go. You can tell me about your book.”

  “Books. More than one.” It was out before she could stop it.

  “How many? Never mind. Tell me at dinner.”

  She studied his face, searching to find what drove him. He didn’t have to do this. She’d already agreed to a sexual relationship. “You really want to know about my writing?”

  “Hell yeah, I want to know everything about you.” He shook his head, as if surprised at himself. “I was jealous of that book on Saturday night. Once you started working on it, you were so absorbed, like you’d been transported to another place.”

  That’s exactly what it felt like, and it’s what had kept her going during long nights or bad days. “Why does that make you jealous?”

  “Because you went there without me.”

  Stunned, she hissed in a breath, strange sensations rocking her. “That’s…”

  “Insane.” He nodded, as if confirming his own thoughts. “But true. So tell me about your stories tonight over dinner. Take me with you.”

  He wanted that? Her writing had always been the one place where she could escape to her secret world and she had full control over everything. While every moment with him Liza took another step out on that high wire over the unknown. He stripped her control, made her want, dream and hope. Self-preservation told her to run back, get to safety.

  But when she looked into his eyes and saw the need there, she wanted to keep going. “I’ll tell you…oh wait.” Disappointment crashed her back to reality. “I can’t go out tonight, or this week. I’m working on a group project for my communications class. It’s for our final grade. Every free moment will be spent on that until we turn it in on Friday.”

  “Damn, I won’t get you to myself for four more days?”

  Temptation rippled. She couldn’t blow off her commitments, but maybe she could go over to his house afterward? They’d be finished around ten or eleven and—

  And what? Screw him then go home? He’d see her as just a fuck buddy, and worse, she’d view herself as that. Firming her spine, she said, “Yes.”

  “I get it. So how about Friday night?”

  She hesitated. “I kind of have a commitment then too. But, um, you could come along. It’s dinner with my roommate, Emily, and her boyfriend, Ben. We meet at Wylie’s.” Would he want to go?

  He didn’t even hesitate. “It’s a date. I’d like to meet them.”

  A huge smile erupted on her face. “Emily’s bugging me about meeting you.”

  His eyes crinkled at the edges. “Wants to check me out, huh? Make sure I’m good enough?”

  She started to say no, but why lie? “Maybe a little. But she’s nice if she likes you.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  She thought of Emily when she’d found out Dillion broke up with her and made her that ugly offer. “How fast can you run?”

  “That bad?”

  “I sort of had to hide her car keys to keep her from going after Dillion. I put them in the freezer. By the time she found them, she got sidetracked by ice cream.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers, laughing. “I think I like her already. Everyone needs a friend like that.”

  Pleasure warmed her, and she got hotter when he kissed her again.

  Liza finally came up for air. “Thought you had a meeting? You know, becoming famous and all?”

  Color had darkened his face, and he narrowed his eyes. “You’re a dangerous distraction, Glasner.” He opened her car door. “Go before we both forget we have places to be.”

  “Good luck in your meeting. If Christine’s what you want in a manager, I hope she’ll sign you.”

  His eyes hardened with ambition. “She’s a shark, exactly what we want. She’ll make signing us contingent on winning though, to be sure she gets at least some income. This is just a prelim to discuss a potential business plan and strategies. We have to win.”

  As she drove away, the warmth of Justice’s touch faded beneath the memory of his fierce drive. He’d told her what he wanted.

  Fame.

  He was living in the spotlight. How long did Liza think she could hang around in that glow and not have it come out who she was? Then it’d all start again, the media scrutiny, the terrible things said about her. Her family would be furious.

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she headed toward campus.

  She didn’t want the fame part of Justice, she just wanted the man for as long as it lasted. Because one way or another, fame and stardom would pull him away.

  It always did.

  She just hoped her life, and that of her family, didn’t end up as collateral damage.

  Again.

  * * *

  Justice grinned at the group of women in the Beachside Java Shop. For three days, Liza’d had the band doing mini appearances around San Diego in between all their other commitments. Sure it took a lot of effort, but it was paying off with more and more fans showing up each time.

  “I’m a huge fan,” one of the women said. “We’ve been voting for you guys since the start of the season.”

  “We follow the Savage Shout-outs hashtag. I can’t believe we were able to catch you guys here,” another one added.

  Liza buzzed around them, taking pictures with the fans’ phones for them and getting a ton of shots with her camera.

  “Simon,” a third woman spoke softly. “I saw your interview on that morning show. You were so brave and touched a lot of people who’ve endured bullying.”

  Focusing all his attention on the dark-haired, slightly plump woman, Simon asked, “Including you?”

  She looked down. “Sometimes.”

  Simon gentled his voice. “What’s your name?”

  “Jane.”

  “Liza,” Simon called out. “Can you get a shot of us with my friend Jane here to post? Let’s show everyone how beautiful she is.”

  The woman lit up, her smile beaming.

  As they all gathered around the woman, Justice couldn’t help but stare at Liza as she moved around them, happily taking pictures. Simon hadn’t wanted to talk about Julie to rand
om strangers, no matter how well-intentioned. Liza had understood, and she’d suggested that when people approached him and mentioned the interview, he turn the attention away from his deceased wife to the fan. That worked, and it seemed to fill a need in him, one Liza had somehow seen.

  It amazed Justice that for a girl who’d been through so much, she managed to still have compassion and empathy.

  Or maybe that was what made her care so much. She had her own scars hidden beneath the watch.

  Whatever it was, it had him by the balls.

  Twenty minutes later, the crush of fans left, and the coffee shop quieted. He spotted Liza out on the deck, bent over her computer working. The bright sunlight highlighted streaks of red in her brown locks.

  It was all he could do not to stride out there, wrap her ponytail around his hand and kiss her. Possession burned through him, fisting his hands.

  How the hell did he want her more? Usually once he had sex with a woman, his interest faded. He was too focused on his career.

  But Liza—his Beth—got under his skin, creating an irresistible need to touch her, feel her. Every night, once he got home and settled into bed, when the house grew too quiet and his mind too loud with the impulse to go look for his dad, he called Liza. Just the sound of her voice calmed that frantic energy always snapping beneath his skin.

  God he wanted to get her alone and hear all about the worlds she created.

  “Liza was right.”

  “What?” He yanked his gaze away from the girl consuming his thoughts to Simon.

  “About the interview. As a preemptive strike, it took the punch out of that promo package the show’s been running for a couple days.”

  “Hell yeah,” Lynx added. “But using that footage was low.”

  It pissed them all off. A man’s dead wife should be off-limits. But that’s not how reality TV worked, and Ace was too dumb to realize the show execs didn’t care if he won or lost, they only wanted higher ratings. They were manipulating that dimwit as much as anyone else in the remaining three bands.

  “Let’s hope they don’t blindside us with anything else.” Justice shifted his gaze back out to the deck.