Rock Star, Interrupted

by Shade, S. M.

“Then call them back. Have them ask me about Naomi and Caden. It’s the only way to get the public off her back. And it’s not exactly the best kept secret that he’s my kid.”

  The excitement in Milo’s voice when he agrees pisses me off, and I hang up. Yeah, I know it’ll drive up a storm of publicity around me for a few days, but this isn’t the way I want to be promoted.

  I’ve done my best to keep my distance from Naomi the last few days without being an outright asshole, but this is another good reason to limit our time together. The less we’re photographed together, the fewer the chances for idiots to make up stories about it.

  We only have about three weeks left on the festival tour, then we’ll have studio time, and a break before the big tour launches along with the album. We just need to get through a few weeks and things will calm down.

  Dani answers when I knock on the door of the suite she’s sharing with Naomi and Caden. “Hey, Ax. Caden’s taking a nap.”

  Nodding, I step inside. “Where’s Naomi?”

  “Right here,” Naomi replies, walking into the sitting room.

  “There’s been another letter warning you to stay away from me. It showed up today.”

  “Fuck,” Dani says, shaking her head. “Can’t they trace where it comes from or something?”

  “The cops are looking into it.” I pin Naomi with my gaze. “Keep security with you. And the less you can be photographed the better. The tour will be over soon.”

  “Won’t they just stalk us at your house?” Naomi points out.

  “I’m going to do everything I can to prevent that. The house isn’t in my name, and no one outside of the band, you two, and the label have the address. We’ll have to do our best not to be followed home but once we’re not constantly on TV interviews and touring, things should die down quickly. And we’ll have security at the house too.”

  Naomi bites her lip and glances at Dani. “My friend, Paige, knows where we live, but she’d never say anything.”

  What? “You don’t know that!” I snap. “How do you think the most private pictures and stories get into the tabloids? Someone’s friend sells them out.”

  “I had Paige sign the same NDA as Naomi,” Dani interjects. “She knows the consequences of breaking it. You can’t expect Naomi to live there and never have a friend around. She’d go crazy with only your grouchy ass for company.”

  My hands run through my hair. “Fine.” Pointing at Naomi, I add. “Do not tell anyone else without talking to me first. Me, not Dani.”

  Pressing her lips together, she gives a curt salute and god, I want to fuck her into that couch until she learns to behave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Naomi

  “It’s pouring,” Dani remarks, glancing toward the tall windows where rivulets of rainwater draw wavy lines down the glass. “They may cancel tonight’s performance. According to the weather report, it isn’t supposed to get any better.”

  Caden sits on the floor of our hotel suite, playing with his toys while Dani takes a seat beside me on the sofa. She flips the TV channel to the morning talk show where Tragic is scheduled to appear. We catch the tail end of the live song they play, and when they return from the ad break Axton is seated across from the host for the interview.

  I’ve watched a few of his interviews and he always does well, charming the audience as he gives the rote answers to questions asked ad infinitum. This time is a bit different and Dani glances at me when Axton is asked about the pictures taken of us together.

  “Shit,” I breathe.

  “He’s going to be pissed. They’re warned not to ask personal questions.” Dani crosses her legs, turning up the volume.

  Onscreen, Axton seems unperturbed. “Right, the infamous pictures,” he says, flashing an amused smile at the host. She grins and tucks her hair behind her ear. God, they’re all affected by him. “I’m sorry to have to disappoint everyone, but the woman in the pictures is my son’s nanny. She’s very good with him and I’m grateful he has her, but she’s not his mother.”

  The host leaps on the admission. “So, the baby is your son?”

  “Yes, he’s just turned a year old.”

  “In some of the pictures, you and the nanny seem quite close. Could there be a little something going on there?”

  “Bitch can’t take no for an answer,” I growl, and Dani shushes me so she can hear Axton’s reply.

  “No, she’s a huge help to me and we occasionally take my boy out to have some fun, but we aren’t seeing each other.”

  The host grins at the camera. “I’m sure there are a lot of women who are glad to hear that, but I have to ask, is there a special woman in your life?”

  Axton shakes his head. “No, believe it or not, touring and being a father leaves little time to date.”

  The questions turn back to the album, and I regard Dani. “Did you know he was going to do that? Announce he has a kid?”

  “No.” She gazes at Caden for a moment before looking at me. “It’s come up a few times with the label. There have been discussions about when to go public with that news since the pictures are everywhere, but Axton wanted to wait. I guess he thought it was time.”

  Did he do it for me? To get whatever psycho is sending letters off my back?

  My question is answered a few hours later when Axton pops into the room. Caden toddles over to him, yelling, “Da da di!”

  Axton scoops him up. “Where is his swim stuff? I’m taking him down to the indoor pool.”

  “I saw your interview today,” I remark, gathering a swim diaper, his floating pool seat, and a towel. “You told them about Caden.”

  He avoids my gaze, fussing with Caden. “With less secrecy, maybe the crazies will calm down. You shouldn’t be a target anymore.”

  Instead of inviting me to join them as usual, he takes Caden’s bag from me and starts for the door. “I’ll bring him back this evening. Our concert is cancelled.”

  “Okay.”

  The door closes behind him and I flop on the couch, trying to figure out why I feel so down. I’ve been grouchy all day. Not even Caden’s hilarious antics—the uh oh phase is far from over—has been able to cheer me up much. Maybe it’s knowing there’s a person out there who hates me enough to send anonymous letters to scare me. Or the fact that I’m now even more paranoid about taking Caden out.

  This short tour that Axton has told me is nothing compared to the next one has been more of a lifestyle shock than I anticipated. So how are things going to be with the next tour? A new city every day or two? Constantly on planes and tour buses? Trapped inside by paparazzi and crazed fans?

  It’s not that I think I can’t handle it, but I’m not sure it’s the best thing for Caden. Not that it matters much what I think. This is his father’s life and I’ll have to find ways to make it as easy on Caden as possible. That won’t leave me much of a life of my own, but it’s not like I didn’t know I was giving that up when I agreed to the job.

  None of that is really the root of my bad mood though. It’s Axton. After spending so much time with him, I started to expect it. Expectations and complicated rock stars don’t mix.

  * * *

  It’s almost over. This evening is Tragic’s last performance before we head home tomorrow. I should be happy, and I am glad to go back, but there’s this cloud of uncertainty hanging over me. Its name is Axton.

  Whenever I think I have a good handle on him, he does something completely out of character. For a couple of weeks, he was kinder, more relaxed, spending time just hanging out with Caden and me. I felt like I was getting to know him, another side of him that’s not the stressed out musician or worried father. A side I really like.

  I was touched when he showed up the night I was sick just to bring food and watch TV with me. He even stayed until I fell asleep. I don’t remember him leaving, but I’m not surprised. Those painkillers were no joke.

  He stunned me again by the announcement he made about Caden during the interview, especially whe
n he admitted it was to keep his fans off my back. But ever since that day almost three weeks ago, he’s been distant again. He still spends time with Caden but seems to be going out of his way to keep things restrained when it comes to me. It’s not that he’s rude or hateful, just aloof. Uninterested.

  Except...

  There are times when I feel him looking at me, and his expression when I glance to catch him betrays his salacious thoughts. My heartbeat doubles and I try to resist the images that want to build in my mind. Axton, naked and sweating. Driving into me. Cursing as he comes.

  His smirk always makes me feel like he can see every filthy fantasy behind my eyes. And approves.

  On and off. Hot and cold. It’s fucking confusing.

  I’m determined not to let his behavior drag me down today. Dani volunteered to keep Caden so I can go to the last festival, then everyone will be getting together for the farewell dinner tonight. As much as I’m glad to have life get back to normal—as normal as possible when you work with a rock star—I’m also going to miss some of the new friends I’ve made. The artists, their families and friends, the roadies. There are so many amazing people that traveled with us and I hope to see most of them again.

  The main two performances I want to see tonight are Patrick’s, and Tragic’s, of course. I’ve resisted watching Axton sing since that first night, when I was affected in ways that probably aren’t good for my self-control, but I can’t resist going to the last show.

  Axton isn’t thrilled when he hears I’ll be there.

  “One more night and we’ll be home. You’ll be safer if you skip it,” he says.

  “One more night. Exactly. It’s the last night of the tour and I won’t have Caden with me. It’ll be fine.” He opens his mouth and I snap. “I’m not asking your permission. I’m just letting you know.”

  Damn, the man has the most thunderous glare I’ve ever seen a human manage, but I’m not letting him intimidate me. “Fine, then watch from the side of the stage.”

  My instinct is to argue, but I try to keep in mind that he isn’t just trying to be a controlling asshole. He’s worried about my safety. “As long as I can see everything.”

  With a huff, he turns to Dani. “What are you smiling about? Make sure she has a pass.” With that, he stalks out of the room.

  Dani grins at me. “A few of the other musician’s friends and family members will be watching from the side of the stage too. You’ll like it.”

  “It’s fine with me. Do you want to meet after at the farewell dinner or would you like me to come grab Caden so you can get ready?”

  “Nah, I’ll meet you there. I’m going to put him down for a late nap, so he won’t be a grouch.” She glances at her phone for the third time in five minutes and chews her lip.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She hesitates for a moment. “Dustin is texting me.”

  It’s the last thing I expect her to say. “Your ex? Doesn’t he have a no contact order?”

  “Yeah, he just got out of jail. He’s not supposed to be anywhere near me or contact me in any way.”

  “Then you need to let the authorities know. What is he texting you?”

  She flops back onto the chair. “Apologies, mostly. He’s begging me to talk to him. To forgive him.”

  “Dani,” I begin, cautiously.

  “I know. I’m not an idiot. I don’t want him back. I don’t want him anywhere near me. I just replied with that and warned him not to contact me again. But tonight is the last night on tour. Let’s get through it, then if he tries again, I’ll contact the authorities when we get home.”

  “Okay.”

  She sighs when I give her a hug. “Don’t tell Ax tonight.”

  “I won’t. I’m sorry Dustin’s putting you through shit again. Are you afraid of him?”

  She chuckles and shakes her head. “No, we’ll be taking security back home with us. I doubt his stupid ass could get through them. Now, go get ready for the concert. I’ve got Mr. Uh-oh.”

  Caden grins up at her and shoves the TV remote off the end table. “Uh-oh.”

  It’s everything I can do not to laugh while I kiss his cheek, then head off to get dressed.

  It’s a beautiful evening for the final festival, and even with a security guard breathing down my neck, I’m having a great time. Everyone is in good spirits since it’s our last night together. I can’t walk three feet backstage without being offered a drink or stopping to chat with one group of people or another.

  Even with the fear and the paparazzi, this has been an amazing experience. One I know most people will never get and I don’t want to take it for granted.

  Patrick’s set is right before Tragic’s. He’s moved up the schedule with every venue and I’m not surprised. The man has a beautiful voice. I’m joined by his mother and brother who have come to watch the last show, when I head to the side of the stage.

  A small crowd wearing all access passes is gathered in the reserved area, and the excitement is palpable. A cheer goes up when Patrick walks onstage, and I smile at his mother when the applause grows.

  Patrick is a sweet, kind guy. His tall, thin, awkwardness—I’ve heard some of the other guys refer to him as Ichabod—lends him some boyish charm that is hard to describe. He doesn’t have the movie star good looks of Axton or the cut body of some of the other musicians who work out non-stop, but he’s handsome in a more unconventional way. There’s a ruggedness about him the women go wild for.

  It’s impressive how much he has improved since that first night. Not his singing, that was always spectacular, but his stage presence. He’s much more comfortable moving around the stage and not quite so nervous. He’s going to do great opening for Tragic on the album tour.

  He flashes me a smile when they finish their set, and his family follow him offstage as stagehands rush out to set up for Tragic.

  Axton glances in my direction and I give him a wave, rolling my eyes. Yeah, I’m right here where you ordered me to be. Smirking, he turns and talks to Jude for a few moments.

  From my place I can see the whole stage, and the first few rows of fans, but it’s clear how massive the audience is when Axton walks onstage. The sound is deafening.

  He’s close enough for me to see the way he comes alive, joy shining on his face as he waves and says a few words to rile up the crowd. They’re losing their shit. Of course they are.

  Look at him.

  Dark jeans, a gray button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scuffed boots, a smile that could lure the innocent into hell without a second thought. His hair is pulled back into a bun, and I can’t help but laugh as the crowd hoots and whistles when he lets it down, shaking it out as he picks up his guitar.

  He knows what he’s doing to them. Does he know what it does to me?

  I can’t take my eyes off of him, especially when he starts to sing.

  The first time I saw him live I was affected, but not nearly like this. Since then, I’ve gotten to know him. I’ve seen him upset and raging. Worried and afraid. Turned on and sweating and naked.

  I’m surrounded by people, security guards, friends and families of the musicians on the tour, but I don’t notice them anymore. Everything fades and there’s only him.

  Song after song, I watch him own the stage like it’s his home. He revels in the adoration of the crowd.

  My eyes fall shut at the sound of the pulsing bass drum. Lub dub, lub dub, like the beat of my heart. The song is the most sensual I’ve ever heard and once his voice fills the air, I’m lost to it. The man has so much soul it’s scandalous.

  His deep tone vibrates over my skin and I’m amazed at the effect he can have on me. The way he can take my emotions and scatter them viciously, then soothe the ache he’s caused, all in a few words.

  Swallowing hard, I take him in as he stands at the microphone. The way he holds his audience enthralled. It’s not just his voice, but the lyrics he’s written and how they combine with the music. The expression on his
face when he belts them out. It’s like he holds a universe in his mind that others can’t decipher, and he’s allowing you the tiniest glimpse inside.

  Imagine being loved by him. All the passion that bleeds from his voice centered on me. To be looked at with all that heat and sincerity, to be drowned in his presence. Surrounded by all the complicated, damaged beauty of him.

  The concert passes too quickly. I could’ve stood there all night listening to him. Even after an encore the crowd screams for more and I don’t blame them a bit. Finally, Tragic exits the stage.

  It’s over.

  The usual after party won’t be taking place tonight. An entire restaurant has been reserved for the musicians and all the support staff that has traveled with the tour the last eight weeks. Then we’ll be on the bus home.

  When we arrive at the restaurant, the tour buses wait lined up in the parking lot. All our luggage is transferred onto them, and we head inside to enjoy one more night as a group.

  Caden is in a great mood, basking in the attention he gets from everyone he comes into contact with. He sits in a highchair between me and Axton, with the rest of the Tragic guys seated around the table.

  As the night wears on and the drinks flow, there’s a lot of seat hopping. Everyone wants a chance to chat and say goodbye. Caden is passed around, sitting on one lap or another and couldn’t be happier about it. He ends up on Axton’s lap at another table when Patrick sits next to me.

  We end up talking and laughing through a few drinks. Dani flops into the chair on my other side. “I’m done in. I’m going to head to the bus and probably sleep the whole way home.”

  Glancing around, I notice Caden is asleep on Axton’s lap. “I’ll go with you. Caden’s out already. I should put him to bed.”

  She waves a hand at me. “Nah, I’ve got him. I’ll steal the bedroom and put him in the crib. You and Ax can take those godawful bunks.” She drains the glass of water, then places the glass on the table, getting to her feet.

  “Works for me.”

  After Dani leaves with Caden, I’m surprised when Axton joins Patrick and me, taking the seat on the other side of him. Patrick and Axton probably haven’t spoken three words to each other since the night Axton accused him of “trying to get his dick wet.” I’m sure Patrick thinks he’s an asshole, and he isn’t exactly wrong.