Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1

by Jennifer Lyon

  And now she was supposed to give him up? That was what her aunt wanted, for Liza to give up the one thing she hadn’t had since that awful night of her rape.

  Gathering her hair his hand, he tilted her head back. “I’ve never felt this before—a raging passion mixed with that massive tenderness that makes my heart feel too damned big in my chest. You’re my song, that one that every singer craves and can’t stop singing because it fucking owns them and they want the whole damn world to know it. You, Beth, you’re my song.”

  Her heart fluttered wildly, like a swarm of beautiful fireflies bursting to life in the darkness.

  “I don’t want to come between you and your family, and I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you this—you’ll always have a place here in this house if you need it. Anytime. Whether we’re together or not. You won’t ever be homeless. So if you need your family, then…” He sucked in a breath, sadness devastating his eyes. “I’ll let you go. But you aren’t going back to them because you think you don’t have a home.”

  “No.” The word erupted from her chest, from the place where fiery love broke free. “When I said what do I do? I just meant it hurt, Justice. Not that I’d choose my family.” She placed his hand over her heart. “Feel that thump-thump? Do you know what I hear every time my heart does that?”

  “What?”

  “All in.” She clutched his hand tighter. “I’m all in with you because I love you. I love your fearlessness, the way you back your friends and care for your father. I love that you have the blue jay tatted over your heart for your grandmother. You believe in me, but more importantly, you make me believe in myself.” He hadn’t said he loved her, but he deserved to know the truth and that she wasn’t bailing on him.

  He swung her up, planting her butt on the counter. “You love me. A rock star.”

  The fact that he added rock star poked at her. He’d told her once…the world only wants the hero, not the man. Justice was trying to turn himself into a hero—a rock god that people would love and not leave. She had to make him understand.

  “No. Lots of women love the rock star.” Liza took his face in her hands. “But I love you, Justice. The man who is striving to live up to his name. You almost slammed your fist into the fridge because my rapist escaped his punishment that you consider justice. That’s the man I love.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers. “You had your chance, baby.”

  “For what?”

  His gaze burned into hers. “I’d have let you go if that’s what you needed. But now you’re mine.” Pulling back, he added, “I love you, Beth, and I’m not letting you go.”

  They really were all in.

  * * *

  Four days later, Liza was completely exhausted. She’d picked up Cassie and her mom, Patricia, from the hotel and ferried them to the auditorium to meet the guys. Now she was driving them back.

  Cassie looked over at her. “Is it always like this? All these reporters and stuff?”

  Outside the auditorium, reporters and their vehicles clogged up the parking lot and surrounding roads. She ignored it. After a talk with the DA in Beverly Hills, she’d agreed to not make any statement. If Hayes filed to get the case overturned, the DA would likely retry him. If she made a public statement and said the wrong thing, it could cause problems in her future testimony. Liza chafed at not being able to defend herself, but she understood the ramifications, and so she’d cooperated, refusing to talk to the media.

  What bothered her more were the small groups of protesters with their ugly signs.

  Recant!

  Bring Gene Hayes Home!

  False Accusations of Rape!

  They could say anything they wanted about her. Nothing ever seemed to happen to them.

  As they passed by a group of three stringy-haired men holding signs, Cassie shuddered next to her. Shoving her long brown hair away from her heart-shaped face, she frowned. “How do you endure this?”

  Pulling out of her own thoughts, she looked at the girl. Cassie was pretty in that girl-next-door way, with deep-set hazel eyes and a tiny scar across the bridge of her nose. She’d been shy meeting the band, but after ten minutes she’d loosened up, played bass guitar and even sang with them. The guys had had her laughing in no time.

  The girl’s laughter had made her mom cry. Liza wasn’t doing much better. That was Savaged Illusions at their best. Liza had secured permission to use the auditorium for an hour before the crew set up for dress rehearsal. She’d gotten a ton of pictures, then she and Cassie had chosen the two she wanted posted on social media. It had been all up to her. Liza wouldn’t have posted any pics unless she was okay with it.

  Cassie had amazed them all with her obvious resilience and fun sarcasm. And this girl asked her how she coped? “Same as you, I guess. No one gave us a choice, did they?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been kind of feeling sorry for myself.”

  The shame in her voice pissed Liza off. “Cassie, do you think I didn’t?” She took the girl’s hand. “Many times I wished I’d died that night. That I just never woke up and had to face it all.” Too late, she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. She glanced in the backseat to Patricia.

  Cassie’s mom looked tired but nodded reassuringly. Obviously Patricia encouraged her daughter to express her feelings, no matter how grim or scary. Unlike Liza’s aunt and grandmother. But that wasn’t entirely fair either. They’d been through years of frustration and pain with her mom, and in their minds, all the tragedies of that night were a result of her mom’s actions from as far back as college. They’d been desperate to keep Liza from going down the same path.

  Now wasn’t the time to think about them.

  Returning to the girl, Liza added, “I’m here, and I’m making the best of it. You can do it too.” She squeezed her hand. “But it’s okay to acknowledge that something really crappy happened to you and that sometimes it plain sucks.”

  “Do you think that after this is over, I could still text you sometimes? I won’t do it a lot, but you know, sometimes?”

  Liza smiled. “I’d like that. By the way, my friend Emily wants to meet you too. She thinks you’re funny.” She told Cassie how Em had snooped in her phone and found the text.

  “Some people kind of hate when I joke about my leg. It makes them uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe they should try walking a mile on your leg.”

  Cassie laughed. “That was awful, Liza. Seriously.”

  Grinning, she made a turn and said, “I’ll practice and get better.”

  “Hey, so the guys, are they nervous about tonight? Do you think they’ll win? I want them to win. I mean Fury Run is good and all, but Savaged Illusions, I just love their music.”

  It made her head spin how fast Cassie went from mature beyond her years to a teenage girl. Liza’s stomach writhed with nerves, anxiety and everything else. They had to win. “I love their music too. And yeah, they’re nervous. Seeing you today was really good for them. It gave them a break from the pressure and mounting tension.” After pulling into the hotel entrance, she stopped right at the door. “Okay, tonight there will be a limo coming for you guys. Cassie, the driver is going to stay with you. If you need assistance or people are too close or shoving, he’s there to help. He works for my friend Sloane, and you can trust him. With them will be my other friend, Nikki. She’s going to be your guide. She knows the auditorium and routine, so she can help you guys through the security checks and anything else you need.”

  Cassie leaned over and hugged Liza. “I can’t wait.”

  Patricia squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you, Liza. This whole trip means the world to her.”

  Once they were on their way into the hotel, Liza drove to Justice’s house, where she’d been staying since the Hayes video released. The one time they’d gone to her apartment to get some of her stuff, reporters had been lurking around. Now she just wanted a little time to herself. Justice and the guys were at a lunch with Christine Castle, wh
o was in town for the show and to sign them if they won. They all had so much riding on this, for Savaged Illusions’ big break and her to get that internship.

  A while after the harsh conversation with her aunt, Liza had called her grandmother, hoping to mend fences and offering to have them meet Justice. Maybe if they got to know him… But Grandma refused.

  Had they been looking for an excuse to cut her out of their lives? What would she do if she didn’t get that internship? She wouldn’t be able to finish her degree in the fall quarter without those credits.

  She sucked in a breath. One step at a time. She’d work, borrow money if she had to and figure it out.

  Turning down Justice’s street, she breathed out a sigh of relief. No reporters that she could spot. They were all at the auditorium, or maybe another, more interesting news story broke. Once she parked, she grabbed her purse, got out her shiny key Justice had made for her and rushed to the door.

  She noted that the rosebushes had perked up, stroking her pride. Any free time she’d had, she’d spent working in the yard.

  Quickly Liza shoved the key into the deadbolt when she heard sounds behind her. Footsteps. Uneasiness tightened her neck muscles.

  “Liza?”

  Adrenaline spiked at the unknown voice, and she spun. “If you’re a reporter—” Her words froze in her throat. This was no reporter. The man was easily six feet, but scars covered one side of his cheek and temple above his ragged beard. He wore a shabby jacket, stained jeans, black athletic shoes and a battered backpack was slung over one shoulder. His hair was mostly gray, but his eyes…a mix of blue and gray so familiar to her.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll leave. I just…” He shook his head. The left side of his face didn’t really move. “I’m sorry.” Turning, he retreated.

  She snapped out of her surprise. “Mr. Cade?” Justice’s father. “Don’t go, please.” How did he know her name? Caution warred with her excitement. She didn’t know this man.

  He slowed and faced her.

  She ordered her thoughts and asked him, “You know my name?”

  “I saw you on the interview with IRB and on the news. I wanted to meet you.”

  Her stomach clenched. What did he think of her? “The Gene Hayes video?” The question popped out before she could think. Inside her, rage and ugly insecurity clashed and fought.

  Anger blazed into his eyes. “I don’t listen to a rapist who fled the country I fought for. My friends and comrades laid down their lives so he could have a right to a trial and he runs? Coward.”

  “Oh.” What else could she say? Clearly she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Justice is in a lunch meeting, but I can call him. He’ll come home.” She shoved her hand in her purse, happy to have a plan and a way to help after all Justice had done for her.

  “No. Don’t.” He threw his hands up, retreating. “I can’t see him. Can’t talk to him.”

  Her excitement withered beneath the raw agony in his voice and the pain in his eyes. All thoughts of herself fled. “Why? He loves you. He misses you.” She desperately tried to make him understand. “Mr. Cade, he’s keeping this house because it’s your home. He wants you here, you just need to trust—”

  He shook his head. “Not me. It’s not me. You don’t understand.”

  His angry frustration pierced her good intentions. Liza lowered her arms. He’d sought her out for a reason, and she really doubted it was to be told what he must know about his son.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She pulled in a breath, grasping that she was making assumptions about Justice’s dad, not unlike strangers had done to her. “I don’t understand, and I’m not giving you a chance to talk to me.”

  The tightness around his eyes eased.

  “I won’t call Justice.” Not right now anyway. “Please, Mr. Cade—”

  “Noah.”

  “Noah.” Justice’s middle name. “Why did you want to see me?”

  “He cares about you. I saw the way he looked at you in the interview.” Tapping his hand against his thigh, he added, “How is he?”

  The hunger in that question reached past any concerns about her own safety with a man she didn’t know. She was close to Justice, and his father was trying to connect to his son through her.

  She didn’t know why he couldn’t just talk to Justice, but it was clear he was locked in a prison as surely as her mother was. What did he want to know? “He’s going after his dream to be in a rock band.” Duh, he knew that already. “He’s in a good place, I think. He and the band are really tight. They fight, man do they fight. But the thing is, Justice knows they have his back.”

  “Like on Late Night with Alicia when they walked off.”

  Pride had deepened his voice, and Liza guessed he followed Justice closely.

  “Yeah. The band was pretty pissed at him.” It bothered her that she was causing trouble. “He hadn’t told them who I am. They felt betrayed.”

  His bushy eyebrows lowered. “He’d do the same for them. Don’t they understand that? Justice won’t leave a man behind.”

  Interesting way to phrase it. But Noah was a former Marine, so she guessed it made sense. “They must know it. One of the first things Justice told me was that he didn’t want to get signed to the record label and then leave his band behind. He’s loyal to them.”

  “That’s the boy I remember.”

  “He wouldn’t leave you behind either.”

  The glaze of memory in Noah’s eyes vanished, replaced by sharp intensity. “I know.”

  Two simple words vibrating with a wealth of meaning. It took her a couple beats, then she gasped with understanding. “That’s why you left. Why you keep leaving.” He thought he’d be a burden of some kind. A weight. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Noah, Justice had told her, had been severely injured and had PTSD. He’d been through a hell she couldn’t even pretend to imagine. “It’s not that simple, is it?”

  “No.”

  What could she do? “Noah, do you have a place to stay? Is there something I can do to help you? If you need anything—”

  “Just for Justice to be happy. Take care of him, Liza. I failed him, and so did his mother. He needs you.”

  This man loved his son. She needed to keep him engaged with her until she could figure out what to do next. “How do you follow his career? You obviously know a lot.”

  “I have a phone and service.”

  Of course, Justice had told her that.

  “I have one more thing to ask you,” Noah said.

  “Sure.”

  “Tell him to stop looking. Forget about me. I’m his past. You and the band are his future.”

  Sad conviction ached in his voice. He believed that was what was best for his son, even though he hungered for any scrap of information about Justice. It hurt to witness his private hell. She wanted to ease him, but she wouldn’t lie. This was too important.

  “I’m sorry, Noah, I won’t do that. Not now, not ever. Justice won’t do it anyway.” She took a risk, moving closer to Noah. “You’re his father. A man he looks up to.”

  “Not anymore.” He looked around the front yard, at the house, the sidewalk. Anywhere but her. “If you won’t tell him to forget me, then tell him I said good luck tonight.” He pivoted and walked partway down the driveway.

  “Noah, wait.” She kept her voice calm and followed him. She didn’t think Noah Cade was dangerous, and he didn’t appear insane. He’d held a perfectly reasonable conversation. But he was troubled, haunted and clearly wary.

  “What?”

  “Justice is singing a song he wrote tonight.”

  A real smile tilted up the good side of his face. “Thank you.”

  The gratefulness in his words touched her. His craving for information on Justice was almost a visceral thing. “It’s a song for you. One he’s hoping you’ll hear.” She took a breath. Was she doing the right thing? “Would you consider coming tonight?”

  The agony in his face tore at her. �
�I can’t talk to him. I just can’t.”

  She thought fast. “Okay, I have an idea.” Staying a few feet back, she outlined it, hope filling her chest.

  The man’s eyes, so like Justice’s, stared at a spot somewhere behind her. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Moving closer, she touched his arm. “That’s okay if you can’t. Let me give you my cell phone number. If you come, let me know, and I’ll get you in and out. You won’t have to talk to anyone but me.”

  He pulled out his phone, swiftly recording her number. Yeah, nothing wrong with this man’s mental faculties. Once he was done, Liza added, “Noah, I’m going to wait to tell him I saw you until after the show. I hope you’ll come. But if you can’t, I’ll tell him you tried.”

  He watched her, his gaze so like Justice’s. “You really do care about him.”

  The words escaped before she thought them out. “So much it scares me.”

  “The song. Have you heard it?”

  “It’s called ‘Expired Hero.’ It made me cry.” Silent tears she never told Justice about. “He’s desperate for you to hear it. He needs you to.”

  He angled his head down. “I don’t know.”

  * * *

  Liza hung back as the Savaged Illusions band did preshow interviews in the backstage media pen. The reporters with access credentials clustered around while their photographers took pictures. Out in the auditorium every seat was filled, and a crowd of fans lined the parking lot. Protesters against her were out there too, carrying their signs full of hatred.

  The Gene Hayes video had changed everything. But no, she wasn’t thinking about that tonight. This was Savaged Illusions’ big moment.

  One reporter asked the guys, “Did you see that Jagged Sin has thrown their support behind Fury Run?”

  Simon turned, the lights catching the black stitches standing out against his cheek since he’d refused to wear a bandage any longer. “Don’t hold that against Fury Run.”

  Liza smothered a laugh. That was the perfect answer.

  “Do you think you can still beat them? Jagged Sin has a strong following. That’s a lot of votes for Fury Run.”

  “Not strong enough. They were cut,” Lynx pointed out. “The fans will make their own decisions.”