Coming Altered: Welcome to Carson, Book Four

by Renee Harless

  “Cassidy, first, I want to apologize about what you saw behind stage. I’m not even sure why they were waiting on that side, but, unfortunately, that sort of interaction is what they expect, what the groupies, expect. I didn’t reciprocate and I very well…” he continues until Cassidy cuts him off.

  “I know, Harlan. I get it. I truly do. But I just wonder…” she says as she shyly tucks her chin towards her chest.

  Scooting closer to her, he tilts her head back with his finger under the soft skin of her chin.

  “What do you wonder, sweetheart?”

  She turns her warm gaze up to him and replies, “I wonder what will make it stop. Do you have to have a girlfriend? Be married? Dead? Or is it going to be like that all the time? I’m just not sure I can handle that.”

  “Hey, look, we’ve been on the tour for three weeks and this is the first instance of this happening, right?” he asks gently. She nods her head solemnly and Harlan continues, “And, sweetheart, you have to know that the moment you ask for it to stop, any of it, I would make it stop.”

  Her eyes widen in surprise, the same expression as his when he hears the words coming from his mouth unexpectedly. He knew she is worth risking everything for, but it’s the first time he’s tried to make her understand.

  “I would never ask you to do that. Music is your life,” she pleads.

  Truthfully, he isn’t sure he would be able to walk away either, but as the idea floats through his mind he does see the appeal of living in a town like the one she grew up in, everyone knowing your business, but in a good way. That thought causes Harlan to shake his head when he remembers the ultimate reason for the catastrophe that the night ended in.

  “Now, do you remember the pictures?”

  Her eyes squint as if puzzled, but as her face turns an unsettling shade of white and her shoulders begin to shake he knows that she remembers.

  “Oh, God,” she exhales on a breath as she brings her knees towards her chest and rests her head against her thighs. “Were people really saying those awful things about me?”

  Harlan thinks about lying to her whispered question, but he knows better. He needs to tread carefully on the already fragile scenario or he will lose her for good. And that is something he doesn’t think he can handle at the moment.

  “I wouldn’t read what any of those articles say because they know nothing about you or about us.”

  Turning her attention back to him she rests her cheeks on her knees while her arms wrap around her bare legs.

  “That’s easy for you to say, they didn’t call you a band whore.”

  “Cass, they think you’re screwing your brother… can’t you find a little humor in that?” he adds as he smirks towards her, trying to lighten the situation.

  She takes a few moments, but as his words sink in she cracks a smidgen of a smile and Harlan feels himself relax.

  “See?” he admits. “It’s kind of disgusting if you think about it. Your brother is kind of homely looking; I mean, if I had to choose between me or him I’d do me.”

  She giggles for a few moments and then jokes, “You’re so weird.”

  “I may be weird, but I got you to smile. So, tell me what is really bothering you.”

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” she asks and as he nods his head she takes a deep breath and begins, “I never wanted to be a celebrity, I just wanted to dress them in my clothes. I don’t like when I feel like my life is out of control and that is what this feels like. Like someone is now watching to see when I screw up. And it’s not just me I’m worried about. Ryker and I have always agreed to keep our family from the press, especially with the family expanding. None of them asked to be subjected to any of this media attention,” she gestures wildly with her hands. “I read enough tabloids to see that they’ll dig up whatever they can to destroy someone and, until this moment, I was never concerned with any of those articles focusing on me. And once they figure out Ryker and I are related, the vultures will descend onto Carson and our small town will never be the same.”

  “Cassidy, you know you can’t control any of that.”

  “That’s the point!” she exclaims as she straightens her body in annoyance. “I don’t have any control over it and I’m going to spiral, Harlan. I can’t live my life like that!”

  Harlan watches as the look in her eyes change and he feels the room shift as she resolves to an outcome she can control, an outcome where he isn’t present. Well, that isn’t something he can tolerate.

  Taking a chance, he leans forward and scoops Cassidy into his arms while standing from the bed.

  “What are you…?”

  “Sh…,” he says as he silences her forcefully while waltzing through the bathroom, turning so that her feet don’t knock into the door jam, then stepping through the kitchen before depositing her on the couch. Just as he sets her down, the bus rumbles to life and jerks forward to indicate that they are leaving the arena.

  “Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” Harlan declares as he steps back through the kitchen and starts rummaging through the oak cabinets.

  Grumbling to herself Cassidy quips, “Imagine that,” earning a chuckle from Harlan.

  Finding the ingredients he is searching for, he lays out the cinnamon and sugar onto the counter before searching for the bread and butter. He can feel her eyes burning into him, that bit of a hum vibrating through him every time she glances his way.

  “What are you doing?” she asks as he closes another cabinet, her emotions dissipating into a steady calm.

  “Looking for your bread.”

  “Oh, it’s in the drawer beside the fridge.”

  “Thanks.”

  Harlan locates the soft baked goods, takes a few slices, and places them in the toaster before replacing the bread back in the drawer.

  He turns and stands with his back towards the toaster, facing Cassidy, his arms crossed along his bare chest. The two stand in a seemingly sexual standoff, neither moving towards each other, but their eyes communicating their wants, needs, and desires. As Harlan feels his cock stiffen at the thought of taking her back to the bedroom to show her how much he hungers for her, the toast pops up from the appliance, startling both of them.

  He tears his gaze away and gets to work making one of his favorite snacks as a kid. He brings the plate of sugary goodness to the table in front of Cassidy and sits down beside her.

  “Cinnamon toast?” she questions with a gleam in her eyes.

  “Yes. It was one of the few snacks my mom would make whenever she was around, so whenever I’m on the road it’s been sort of my comfort food. I can make you something different if you want,” Harlan states as he reaches for the plate in her hands.

  “Don’t you dare! I love cinnamon toast. It’s been ages since I’ve had it. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

  The two eat the snack in silence, watching the road pass by through one of the windows across the way. As they finish up he grabs her plate and sets it on the coffee table while he watches her from the corner of his eyes lick her fingers clean.

  A growl starts building deep within his chest, but before he has the chance to act out his needs, she turns her body towards his and rests her head along the back of the couch.

  “Harlan?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “What happens now? What am I going to do about my business, my family, us?”

  “You don’t need to worry about any of that. Your business is going to be fine because you’re so fucking talented that your clothes sell themselves. Your family is probably laughing at the ridiculousness of what the papers are saying and if I remember your parents correctly, they probably have the town up in arms ready to shoot down any new visitors. And us, well…I’m going to take you back to that bedroom and worship every inch of your body until you’re screaming my name and forgetting all the mess of today.”

  “But what about your career, I don’t want to jeopardize…”

  “You don’t worry about
my career, that’s what I have a manager for. It’s all going to be fine, Cass.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do,” Harlan promises as he scoops her up again, causing a small burst of laughter to escape from between the frowned lips on her face as he heads to the back bedroom where he plans to spend hours tasting and worshiping every square inch of her body.

  Every inch that he swears he will make his.

  HE SWIPES HER SWEATY palms against her dark denim jeans and tugs down the brim of her ball cap to conceal more of her face. In the week since the articles posted, the press has been standing watch at every show stop, begging and screaming for Cassidy to make an appearance. She’d stay cooped up in the bus until the shows began and then she would make her escape with Anthony to Harlan’s designated side of the stage.

  But today is different. She needs, no has, to get out or she is likely to rip off the head of the next person that speaks to her. And Cassidy considers herself a homebody, but this current situation is a little extreme, even for her.

  Opening the bus door, she lets the bright light of the sun wash over her body, instantly heating her in the Texan air. Across the street stands a Waffle House and Cassidy is willing to give a leg to have a large, syrup drenched waffle.

  Just as she steps down from the bus’s stairs she hears someone shout, “Hey!” causing her to twist off the stairs and fall towards the asphalt. Luckily for Cassidy, she lands in the strong arms of Harlan, ready to catch her after shouting his welcome.

  She swats at his arm as he rights her and she advises, “Don’t do that,” as he chuckles at their exchange.

  “It’s nice to see you out. For a while there I thought you had turned into a vampire since I only saw you at night.”

  “Very funny. I saw the sign for Waffle House and I got a craving.”

  Tucking his hands into his black jeans as he rocks back on his heels Harlan asks bashfully, “Mind if I join you?”

  The thought that she has caused this confident man to question himself burns her to the core.

  Taking a deep breath, she smiles as she agrees and doesn’t even pull her hand away as he entwines their fingers together.

  Why does everything with him feel so right? she asks herself as they walk across the street.

  They take a seat in a back-corner booth and luckily none of the crowd notices them. As the older waitress approaches and takes their order Harlan flirts aimlessly with her and Cassidy can’t help but laugh, the feeling of being light and free almost addictive.

  Their food is delivered just as quickly as they ordered and they discuss the remaining two weeks of the tour and a special show just announced for the band in Vegas in two months.

  “Are you excited about that show? I know we haven’t gotten to talk about it much.”

  “Yeah, we’re usually preoccupied,” Harlan adds causing heat to rise onto her cheeks. “But, yes, we’re all excited. I mean, we’ve played in Vegas before, but not at a festival this size. It will be a great experience.”

  “Well, I am excited for you all, you’ve worked so hard. And Max said it is going to be televised so at least I’ll be able to watch it.”

  Harlan’s fork freezes a few inches from his mouth as he stares at her in confusion and disbelief.

  “Well, I was kind of hoping you’d be there…in person. It’s kind of a tradition now.”

  “Oh,” she utters as she swallows her last bite of waffle. “I mean, I didn’t think, but I’m sure I can clear my schedule for a few days. It sounds like fun,” she adds with a smile, her desperation to be with him pulsating through her veins.

  Harlan returns her grin with a wide-smile of his own and her heart thumps in her chest. It’s the same reaction every time. Her pulse pumps in a musical rhythm of its own whenever she’s with Harlan, and she is truly terrified of that beat ever ending.

  As they finish their late breakfast, Harlan’s phone chimes on the table signifying a message from his mother.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes at the call.

  “It’s ok, please take it.”

  Harlan answers the call and Cassidy tries not to eavesdrop on the one-sided conversation, but she’s surprised to hear how curt he is with his mother on the phone. A minute or so pass and Harlan ends the call with a scowl on his face.

  “Is everything alright?” she asks concerned.

  Harlan sighs and leans back into his seat, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Everything with my family is complicated.”

  “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve been known to be a good listener.”

  “Normally, no,” he admits. “But with you, yes. I want to tell you.”

  “Ok,”

  “My family and I only get along now because it’s a necessity to them, but when I was growing up they weren’t around much. They’re the President and Secretary of their Moto Club the Brass Sparrows. Truthfully, until I was five, I wasn’t sure who my actual parents were ‘cause I was tossed around the members so much.

  “I mean, I remember my mother being around somewhat, but my father was always off doing his club duties. When I hit sixteen I left. It wasn’t something I ever wanted to be a part of, though I do love bikes, but not enough to devote my life to them.”

  “The way you feel about music.”

  “Right, music is my soul. And I guess that’s where my parents and I came to an understanding. When I turned sixteen I told them what I planned for in my life. They sent me to a friend of theirs and I learned more about music than I ever cared to know. But it was the first time in my life they actually showed that they…”

  “Cared.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I get it. It’s hard to feel passionate about something that holds no interest to you, especially when the people that desire it most should have been around more while you were a child. I’m sorry for that, Harlan.”

  “Thanks, but it’s over now. We keep in touch, but things are strained as they are looking to fulfill the legacy. They never had any other children and had planned to leave it all to me.”

  “There has to be other options.”

  “There are, but they’re not something my parents want to entertain at the moment.”

  Cassidy sits back in her bench, riveted to Harlan’s story of his childhood, to the neglect. Her family is filled with such warmth and love that she has a hard time understanding the opposite, but witnessing the hurt in Harlan’s eyes is enough for her to fill her heart with anger and hate for his parents – at what they missed out on as a family.

  Jarring them from their reprieve of the craziness with the tour, Anthony comes waltzing into the diner, his eyes searching wildly for them and almost resting with relief when he finds them in the corner.

  “Hey, man,” Harlan says as he stands from the table.

  “I have been looking everywhere for you both, until I remember we placed that tracker on your phone,” Anthony explains.

  Cassidy pipes in, “Tracker?”

  “Yes, it’s a safety measure I install with all my clients.”

  “Oh,” she replies.

  “I need you both to come with me quickly,” Anthony claims as he tosses a fifty-dollar bill on the table and ushers them from the diner.

  “What’s going on?” Harlan asks as they approach the buses where police sirens wail in the background.

  Cassidy reaches around and grips Harlan’s hand out of reflex, seeming to forget the barrage of reports always nearby.

  “Someone broke into Ms. Connelly’s bus and ransacked the place. I don’t believe anything is destroyed, but it seems that they were looking for something.”

  “Looking for something? All I have there is my…. computer!” she shouts as she dashes away and heads towards the bus.

  As she approaches, a heavily armed officer blocks her from entering the vehicle.

  “But that’s my…” she tries to argue to no avail.

  Luckily, Anthony and Harlan catch up to her and Anthony e
xplains that she is allowed on the property.

  As she enters the bus a gasp steals her breath. The table is cock-eyed and resting on its side with two broken legs. The couch is pulled down with cushions askew. Cabinet doors hang half open, some falling loosely from the hinges.

  Cassidy bravely walks into the bedroom and has to control her urge to vomit when she pulls back the duvet to find hundreds of what appears to be used condoms. The putrid smell burns her nostrils and she holds her breath as she lifts the mattress slightly to try to retrieve her laptop from its hiding space.

  Cassidy thanks the heavens that she trusts no one with her computer and finds a new hiding place for the device every week. It holds all of her designs and future launches. Her life is etched into the computer and she isn’t quite sure what she would do if it is lost or stolen. Shelly has tried to put some of the items on the infamous cloud, but Cassidy has yet to trust a virtual drive she can’t physically see.

  “Is everything ok?” Harlan asks from the doorway as he holds the bottom of his shirt over his nose.

  She nods her head and pushes him out to the living room.

  “I don’t care about anything else in this space other than this computer. I’m sorry that it’s destroyed, Harlan. I know you worked so hard on it.”

  “I don’t fucking care about the bus. I’m just glad we weren’t here when it happened. This bitch seems crazy.”

  “Me too.”

  “The police want us to give some statements. Is there anything else we need to go through?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she says as she glances around the disastrous room once more, now taking notice of the jilted cracks in the marble floor where it seems a hammer has taken hits.

  Cassidy stands against the bus across from hers watching as Harlan and Anthony give their statements. As she observes Harlan, mesmerized by the way he animatedly describes the bus, Ann comes up to stand beside her.

  “Hey. How are you holding up?” Ann asks as she crosses one of her heeled feet over the other.

  “I’m good. Just surprised that’s all. I’m not really sure why I was targeted.”