Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1

by Jennifer Lyon

  Liza had expected them to hate her, to put as much distance between her and them as they could. So why did Wendy have a tight grip on her hand?

  “Let’s move fast and get ahead of this.” Karl pulled his phone out and started typing. “Wendy and the entire Fury Run band…” He looked up expectantly.

  Wendy finished with, “The only thing more powerful than our love of music is our support of women. We stand shoulder to shoulder with our sister Liza Glasner.”

  He put his phone away. “Done.”

  Liza’s head spun. This wasn’t what she’d expected. They weren’t screaming at her or staring at her like she was a freak. The buzzing in her head dialed down, and her breathing eased.

  “What?” She swallowed, trying to get her thoughts in line, but she couldn’t think of a way to ask them if this was real and they believed in her.

  Karl touched her arm. “We’re your friends. I’ll fight you to the final minute of Court of Rock for my girls to win over your guys. I totally think Fury Run is the better band. But this bullshit?” He gestured to the TV. “We aren’t letting that happen. Gene Hayes is a scumbag pervert sporting a sick dick. And Alisha is a ratings whore who doesn’t care who she hurts.”

  Wendy nodded. “But you aren’t his victim anymore. You’re a woman who can fight back.”

  The impact filled her chest. She wasn’t alone or helpless. Two of her friends stood at her side, and her phone was going off nonstop too—that would be Emily.

  After the rape, she’d been isolated and scared. But Wendy was right, Liza wasn’t that same girl anymore.

  * * *

  In the hallway just outside the greenroom, a hand came down on Justice’s shoulder.

  He spun, rage banging in his head.

  Anger glinted in Simon’s eyes and bearing. “How long have you known who she is and not told us?”

  He needed to get to Beth, but one look at the four men staring at him, and reality struck full force. He’d screwed up. At least in their eyes. “She told me that first weekend.”

  “Fuck,” Simon said. “You didn’t tell us? Let us all get blindsided out there in front of the goddamned TV cameras?”

  Urgency jerked and popped in his muscles with worry for his girlfriend. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get to Liza.”

  The vein in Simon’s temple throbbed. “What the hell, man? Now you’re putting a chick before the band? Five days until the finale. Five. We just got hit with a ticking bomb, and you can’t focus.”

  Shit. He was torn. Could almost feel half of him being pulled one way and half the other. But Beth…he couldn’t leave her alone right now. “We’ll figure it out after I get her home.”

  “She can get a ride with someone else.”

  “No. Get off my ass, Simon. I just lost my shit on national TV after my girlfriend had her worst nightmare exposed to the world. I don’t need my band in my face.” He couldn’t fuck this up with Beth.

  Simon leaned in, rage burning in his gaze. “You put her before us. While I went on TV to spill my guts about Julie—the one thing I never wanted to talk about, but I did it for the band—you kept Liza’s secret. The very one that could ruin us now.” Anger vibrated between them before Simon added, “You’re turning her into a Yoko.” He spun and stormed out of the building.

  In his wake, unease settled. Lynx, River and Gray looked as torn as he felt. “I have to get to Liza,” Justice said.

  “That I get,” Lynx answered. “But not warning us? Not telling us that our publicist was part of a news story that could explode? Why, man?”

  Yeah, why? “I didn’t think of it. She told me, and it seemed like her business. In the three years she’s been at school here, no one bothered her about it. No one knew.” That wasn’t true though, Justice admitted silently. Her ex-boyfriend’s father had found out. But Liza had confided in Justice, and telling the others would have breached that.

  “Look, I like Liza. Hell we all do. She’s cool, and she doesn’t deserve this.” Lynx rocked back on his heels. “But, dude, this is our shot. Do you get that? This is it. We lose this, we lose the chance to sign with the label and hire Christine Castle. We’ll be back to begging for gigs.”

  His guts twisted. “I hear you. I’m in. I’m always in. I just need to…” What? He should be going with the band and getting a game plan in place.

  Lynx shook his head. “Sort out your shit, Justice. This isn’t the time to lose your head over a girl.”

  River hesitated as Lynx and Gray left. “Thing is, we had your back. Out there on that stage you lost it, and every one of us walked off with you. Not even a hesitation.”

  True. He’d known they would.

  “So let me ask you this, did you have our backs?” River left without waiting for an answer.

  Fuck. They weren’t mad at Liza. Nope, this was on him. He’d had information he hadn’t told them.

  The door to the greenroom opened. “Justice?”

  Forgetting everything else, he pulled Beth into his arms. “God, Beth, I’m so sorry.” Why the hell hadn’t he kept her out of that interview? Or protected her better in the restaurant instead of posing with fans?

  Everything was spinning out of control.

  She burrowed into him. “I’m sorry too. You walked out of an interview. After swearing at Alicia.”

  “She got off lucky. If she’d been a man, I’d have punched her.” The one he really wanted to go after was Hayes.

  Pulling back, she looked up at him. “Don’t do that. You have to…” She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. “You can’t punch anyone.”

  He felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. Her eyes were too wide, and the green in her irises appeared sickly under the overhead hallway lights. He imagined her at fourteen. She said she fought with her mom, so she’d been feisty. He could see it in her most of the time, streaks of boldness in her personality that matched the rebellious threads of red in her brown hair.

  Too many people hurt her as a kid. She was his now, and he was going to do better. “Wrong. If that asshole ever worms his way back into the states, I’ll do more than punch him.” Gene Hayes had raped an unconscious girl, and now he was trying to lay the blame on Beth.

  “I didn’t tell him I was eighteen. At least not that I can remember—”

  He cupped her face. “Stop. Now. You don’t ever need to explain to me. Not like that. You want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He’d try anyway. It ripped a hole in his guts to think about it. “But don’t you defend yourself. You were a kid.”

  “You believe me. So does Wendy and the other girls. And Karl.”

  “So does Emily and the guys in the band.” Rumors had swirled about Gene Hayes before that night. It didn’t matter how pissed they were at Justice, the other guys wouldn’t blame a fourteen-year-old girl.

  “The band, are they mad?”

  “Not at you,” he reassured her. “Let’s go home, Beth. You’re staying with me. On the way I want you to call Em. Make sure she stays at Ben’s, or she can come to my house if Ben’s not around.”

  “I already texted her that I’m okay and will call, but why should she leave our place?” She pressed her lips tight, sighed and answered her own question. “Because the media has my name now. They can find where I live.”

  Justice wrapped his arm around her, wanting to shield her from the fallout.

  Why had Hayes surfaced now? What was he after?

  How much danger was Beth in?

  Chapter 15

  Liza stared up at the ceiling of the guestroom, thoughts racing and bouncing around. Sharp claws raked the inside of her head. The bright bedside lamp made it worse.

  But closing her eyes…

  Terror knotted in her throat. She’d see it again—that hand holding out the pink frothy drink. Not wanting to take it, but her dad…

  Bolting up, Liza scrabbled until her back hit the wall. Drawing her knees to her chest, she grabbed her glasses off the table and searched the room.


  Nothing there. She was fine.

  Breathe. Calm down.

  She glanced at her laptop sitting next to her. She’d tried to lose herself in her story, but all she saw was Gene Hayes and that hand.

  That drink.

  Waking up in the hospital, vomiting, begging for her mom.

  A burn of pure, raw anger surged up, so powerful it screamed in her mind, hacking at her brain, until she could only think in red. The lies out of Hayes’s mouth in that video had ignited a physical urge to fight back by shouting the truth over and over.

  It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t trick anyone. She’d been a stupid girl who trusted her father.

  Don’t talk about it, Liza. People judge.

  She dug her nails into her wrists, drowning in the violent rage. “Get control. You have to be in control.” She whispered it over and over. “You can’t lose your temper. Control.” Dug her nails in deeper.

  Not enough pain.

  But she had a razor. In the hall bathroom right across from her door. Remember how it felt? Digging that chunk of glass into her skin, the pain flashing through her like a clean wave washing everything else out. She craved the relief.

  A tiny spot of blood bloomed on her wrist around her index fingernail.

  The sight of it shocked her senses. She ripped her fingers away, disgusted with herself. Dropping her head back to the wall, she stared up at the ceiling.

  “No. Just no.” She wasn’t that girl anymore and she wouldn’t let Hayes drive her to self-destruction. Liza had friends. She could call Emily, or Nikki or—

  Justice. She had Justice.

  She needed him.

  * * *

  Justice strode into the kitchen, opened the fridge and stared inside.

  For the seventh time.

  He fucking hated that closed door. Liza hadn’t said much, just that her head hurt and she was going to bed. He’d tried to get her to lay with him for a little while, but she went in the guestroom and shut the door.

  Slamming the fridge, he dropped his hands on the counter. The muscles in his neck and jaw were rigid. Would she leave? Every time he tried to go to bed, he feared he’d get up in the morning and she’d be gone.

  Vanished from his life.

  He couldn’t stay in his bedroom. Instead he had to keep watch to make sure she didn’t leave. But what if she was in that room cutting herself? The helplessness infuriated him. He couldn’t do anything but pace around his house like a caged animal. He raised his hands, ready to slap them down again, when he heard a noise.

  The sound of a door opening. Even his blood stilled. Was she leaving? At one thirty in the morning? Oh hell no. Justice strode out of the kitchen to find the living room and dining room empty. He could see Liza’s door open, and he sprinted into the hall.

  She stood at the doorway to his room, her shoulders bowed in her tank top.

  “Beth?” He closed the distance.

  Her head came up, and she turned around.

  Her face… Jesus, too pale and strained. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you sick?”

  “I… Can I sleep with you?”

  It punched him straight through the chest. She hadn’t left, hadn’t cut, she’d come to him and wanted to sleep with him. All his muscles unlocked, powerful relief pushing him to her.

  “Always.” He settled her in the bed and put her glasses on the side table by her phone. Turning on the bathroom light, he tugged the door partway closed. Once he snapped off the bedroom lamp, a slice of illumination cut through the dark. If she did fall asleep, he didn’t want her waking up in pitch blackness. Getting in, he pulled Beth against him and covered her.

  “Do you want to talk?” He brushed a hand over her hair.

  “Can’t.”

  Thick and raw wounds vibrated in that single word. Too many years of being silenced. “You came to me, that’s all that matters.”

  She trusted him, and that was everything. He couldn’t hunt down the man who threatened Beth’s world right now, so he did the only thing he could think of.

  He sang to her until she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Loud pounding woke Liza. Groggy, she tried to sort out where it was coming from and where she was.

  Awareness slid back in. She was in Justice’s bed, his arms around her. She’d slept with him. The last thing she remembered was him singing softly to her, and then…she’d slept.

  Another round of pounding cut into her thoughts. “Is that the front door?”

  “If that’s a reporter, I’m turning the hose on them.” Justice rolled out of bed, dragged on shorts and vanished.

  Alone, memories flooded back. Gene Hayes. What had made that weasel slither out from under his rock? Seeing him again had shaken her. She’d spent years trying to be anonymous, and now she was exposed. What should she do?

  “I brought donuts.”

  Liza shoved up to a sitting position and grabbed her glasses. “Em?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are you doing? You have class…” She looked at the clock. Almost nine a.m. “…in ten minutes.”

  “Screw class. Get up. Your boyfriend is making coffee, and my boyfriend is apologizing for us barging in.” She rolled her eyes. “Justice didn’t seem upset though. He told me which bedroom you were in. Said to take as long as we wanted.” Em sat on the bed. “You okay?”

  Her throat tightened. “I don’t know what I am.” She glanced toward her phone. Had her aunt or grandmother called? Had they seen the show or video yet?

  Em snatched it up.

  “Hey.” Liza tried to grab it, but Em leapt back, unlocked her screen and eyed it. “Missed calls from Court of Rock, Nikki and Keith.” She looked up, confused. “Who’s Keith?”

  “He owns Indie Rock Broadcast.” Liza got up and dragged on some clothes.

  “Oh right.” Em dropped her gaze back to the screen. “A text from Cassie.” She tilted her head. “That’s the girl we’re raising money for to bring to the show, right?”

  “Yes. And Sloane is covering what we can’t raise, plus a few extras.” Sloane had been all business when she’d called him, then she’d emailed him her itemized projected expenses, how much they had raised and what they needed. Liza got back, Approved, make it happen. The man got to the point. She liked that about him.

  “We need to be friends with her. Know what she says?”

  Locating a brush in Justice’s bathroom, she worked on taming her hair. “I would if I had my phone.”

  Em ignored her sarcasm. “Cassie texted, ‘I want to kick Gene Hayes in his lying mouth. I can’t kick that high, heck sometimes I fall down trying to walk. But I can take my leg off and smack that smirk off his face. Wink, wink, smiley face.’” Em laughed, her entire face lighting up. “This girl is funny.” The laughter died. “And sweet.”

  She really was. “Her mom is too.”

  Em’s face darkened. “Nothing from your family.”

  Liza sat on the edge of the bed. “I—” She cut herself off when her phone started vibrating.

  Em dropped her gaze to the screen. “It’s your aunt. Talk about freaky timing.”

  Liza’s stomach clenched.

  “You can let it go to voicemail.”

  Tempting, but instead she held out her hand.

  “Do you want me to stay in here?” Em asked as she gave Liza the phone.

  “No. Go have a donut.” She needed to handle this and get it out of the way so she could figure out her next step. Accepting the call, she answered, “Aunt Mari.”

  “Liza, where are you? I’m worried. The video is all over. People are talking…”

  Shame, guilt, and that sick feeling of regret weighed on her chest. She’d carried those feelings for so long, but over the last few years, they had eased. Now they were back. “I’m at Justice’s house.”

  “So it’s true? You’re dating that singer?”

  Obviously Mari saw Late Night with Alicia, or at least clips of it. What could Liza say? “Yes.”


  “What are you doing, Liza? I saw the other video too. You’re working for a rock band? How long have you been lying to us?”

  Wincing at the accusation in her tone, she said, “Not lying. I told you I was trying to get the paid position this summer.” Quickly, she explained that she was competing with other student-publicists to win the prize of the Tangent internship.

  “Hiding it is the same as lying,” her aunt snapped. “You’re dating a guy in a rock band. It’s like your mother all over again. A nightmare that won’t end.”

  “Justice isn’t like my father. He’s different.”

  “Different? There’s that picture of you at a bar, your shirt plastered to you. You looked drunk.”

  “I wasn’t drunk.” She paced the room, trying to control her growing resentment that she had to defend herself. Just one time, couldn’t Mari give her the benefit of the doubt? “I didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident, beer was spilled on me. I wasn’t even drinking that night.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m not doing anything different than any other college girl.”

  “You’re not any other girl. And now they know who you are. Is that what you want? Everyone to stare at you? To know that you went to that man’s house that night at fourteen years old? Dressed that way? Drinking? They’ll judge you, Liza, say you deserved it.”

  She deserved it. Something ugly ballooned in her chest and throbbed in her head. That was the implication over and over.

  You snuck out.

  You dressed like a slut.

  You took that drink.

  She closed her eyes, struggling for control. “What do you say, Mari? Did I deserve it?” The question shot out before she could think. Hadn’t she always wondered?

  “You have to ask that? I took you in, finished raising you. I was there through that trial, through it all. Of course I don’t think you deserved it. But we’ve tried to help you understand that choices you made that night put you in the situation. Just like choices you’re making now. Look what’s happened.” She took an audible breath. “You have to accept responsibility. You more than other girls.” She paused. “We love you, but this isn’t something we can support. I won’t live through all this again.”