Crashing East (The Save Me Series Book 4)

by Aly Stiles

  She blinks, then shakes her head in an obvious lie. More tears join the others. “I mean, I have to be, right? No one wants me. No one.” Sobs join the tears, and all I can do is pull her into my arms as she breaks down.

  Rage rushes through me, a pain so deep and dark I have to reconfigure what I thought I was capable of feeling. For everything I’ve been through, nothing hurts as much as this girl’s pain. And I’m powerless against it. Powerless to fix it.

  “Bullshit,” I say quietly. Her small arms tighten around me, her head burrowing into my chest. I hold on with everything I have, not sure it’s enough but determined to give it anyway.

  “Dad didn’t want me. You don’t want me. Danny, no one!” she sobs out. “I’m gross! I’m Nasty Naomi and—”

  “Bull. Shit,” I hiss out, pulling back so she can see my face. I grip her arms and hold her steady, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You are Ashley’s daughter and you are fucking beautiful. I want you, Naomi. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing most of the time, and I know I keep screwing up with you, but I want you here. I’m fucking glad you’re here. Do you understand?”

  She blinks through a sheen of tears, her lip still quivering. I’ve never needed someone to believe something so much in my life.

  “Do you understand?” I repeat harshly, searching her eyes. “Do you know how important you are?”

  After several seconds, she lurches forward and wraps her arms around my chest again. The sobs return, and this time I don’t say anything as I hold her and hate her world on her behalf. I want to break every fucked up thing that’s wrecked this little girl. I’d give it all up, everything, for her to have the life she deserves instead of this hellhole.

  But I can’t.

  I can’t do shit to give her something better than what she’s got, and it’s then that I finally, finally, get the message through my thick skull. I can’t change the hand she’s been dealt, but I can help her play it to its fullest.

  “I mean it, Omi. I’m glad you’re here,” I say quietly. “You and me? We need to stick together.”

  “I… I miss her, Uncle J,” she whispers. “I miss her so much.”

  I blink back my own rush of emotion when my gaze lands on the photo above her bed. That must be the picture Hadley was talking about. Ashley smiles back with a love so strong I feel it across time. “I do too, Naomi. I do too.”

  We sit in silence for a while, the sound of our labored breaths and remnants of tears providing the only soundtrack for this moment. I have no idea what to say—I’ve never been good at the feelings-talking stuff—but I can sit. I can hold on. I can fight and withstand battles most people will never have to face. For the first time in my life I feel like maybe I’m right where I need to be at the right moment. Because what does this girl need right now more than a warrior willing to fight heaven and earth for her?

  “Question for you,” I say, breaking the silence. Naomi stills in my arms, but doesn’t let go. I squeeze tighter, letting her know I don’t want her to. “Those girls in your school who think they’re so freaking cool, when’s the last time they got to hang out with Genevieve Fox?”

  Hey. I won’t be able to make it to your dinner tonight after all. Sorry. It’s not a good night for me to leave Naomi alone.

  I feel bad for cancelling on Hadley, but somehow I know she’ll understand. In fact, she was probably annoyed I’d been intending to leave Naomi alone for a few hours anyway, but Hadley doesn’t understand our world.

  With Naomi’s mom working two jobs and her deadbeat dad nowhere in sight, that girl has been babysitting herself since she was a little kid. I certainly win no uncle awards for the limited involvement I had in their lives, but I think Ashley understood with my tour schedule and rocker bachelor lifestyle, I couldn’t contribute much anyway. Besides, I’m sure she knew what I’d bring to the table wasn’t an improvement over no supervision for an independent, mature kid like Naomi.

  Once Ashley passed away and Allan was forced to step up, I wouldn’t be surprised if Naomi spent more time alone than not. Half our drama over the past month is about how much I’m “smothering” her with my constant presence, but bad news for her, it’s going to continue. After the Danny P incident, she’s lucky I was considering leaving her alone for even a couple of hours tonight. With what just happened, however, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving that girl by herself with her pain. I texted Hadley as soon as I left Naomi’s room.

  My phone rings a second later.

  “Is she okay?” Hadley asks, concern in her voice.

  “Not really. But that shouldn’t be a shock.”

  “No, I guess not,” she says, releasing a breath.

  “She’s hurting. I don’t want to leave her alone tonight. We can prank your parents another time.”

  “Or…” Hadley draws out, and I hear the smile in her tone. Great, now what’s she scheming?

  “Or?”

  “Or you could bring Naomi with you.”

  I choke a little. “To your family dinner? It’s not bad enough you’re showing up with a surprise loser boyfriend?”

  “You are not a loser.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  She snickers. “Anyway, that’s exactly my point. What could be better than me showing up with a surprise loser boyfriend who comes with an eleven-year-old kid?”

  I glance down the hall to where the music has resumed but at a much more palatable volume. Causing chaos at a posh restaurant to mess with a bunch of stuck-up celebrities? Naomi would love it. At the very least, we could both use the diversion.

  “It’d be a complete disaster. You know that, right?” I say finally.

  “The uglier the better,” Hadley says through a laugh.

  “You’re so going to regret this. Let me talk to Naomi.”

  Holy. Shit.

  I stare at Hadley in her form-fitting blue dress, paralyzed by perfection. Her hair, her light dusting of makeup, everything about her is an angelic revelation in my doorway. My pulse launches some weird thump through my body as my gaze roves over her, distracting my brain from its duties in this moment.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, hovering in the hall like it’s just another day of her yelling at me in her sweats.

  “Um.” I shake my head to clear away the effect of her. “Nothing. I mean, you look…”

  “Hot,” Naomi finishes with a smirk. I glare down at my niece, who shrugs with a mischievous look. “What? She does. You need to work on your poker face, Uncle J.”

  Fine. She does. Like, distractingly so. This is a huge mistake.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself. Who knew you’d clean up so nice?” Hadley quips, tugging the rolled-up sleeve of my button-down. I couldn’t bring myself to do a tie, but I at least put on my best jeans and a legit business-casual shirt. Naomi said I looked like a rocker going to court. I didn’t tell her I definitely wore a version of this outfit to the depositions. She also said Hadley would love it, which I brushed off at the time. Now, the look she’s blistering at me is making me want to beef up my button-down shirt collection.

  “You look beautiful too, Naomi,” Hadley says, and I expect a snarky response from my niece. Even though I know for a fact she tried extra hard tonight, she’ll never admit it. I’m surprised when she blushes with a shy smile.

  “Thanks,” she says, glancing down at her black lacey shirt and jagged-edged black skirt with ripped black leggings underneath. She still looks like a vampire princess to me, but at least she’s a formal vampire princess for this event.

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask Hadley. Now that she’s seen us, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wants to back out. Now that I’ve seen her, I’m kind of hoping she does. I’ve already been more and more distracted by her presence lately—and that was before I’d have to deal with images of her in that dress from this point on. Damn.

  Her return look contains more than humor, though. Somehow I sense the stakes of this little joke are higher than I initially thought. T
here’s more to this than a family prank, but I don’t want to pry in front of Naomi. Plus, it’s really none of my business.

  “I’m so sure. Let’s go, babe,” she teases, reaching for my arm.

  I’ll never admit how much I like hearing her call me that.

  The restaurant looms through the windshield, looking about as stuck-up and pretentious as I expected. April Mist is etched above the door in a font so small it’s like you’re not supposed to see it, as if bragging to every passerby that, yes, this place is that exclusive. April Mist? Sounds more like a women’s toiletry product. I already hate it. In fact, I’m about to apologize to Hadley and bail when she reaches over and takes my hand.

  A jolt of electricity fires through me, clearing my head of everything except her. I instinctively glance down at her hand on mine. Thin silver bands circle two of her long slender fingers, the only jewelry I’ve noticed so far. It’s so her—simple, elegant, unabashedly self-assured—that I find myself getting hard. Over a stupid silver band? Yes, because now all I can think about are those fingers unbuttoning my shirt, my jeans. Sliding down my chest and into—

  “You ready to do this?” Hadley asks.

  I blink and clear my throat. “What? Oh. Yes.”

  Her grip tightens, and I study the hard set of her jaw as she stares at the restaurant. Hmm… maybe I’ll be fighting battles for two different women in the same day. I cover her hand with mine, and she snaps me a surprised look.

  “We got this, babe,” I tease, trying to ease her tension.

  She returns a weak smile, and laces her fingers in mine, tugging the knot of our hands and capturing it against her chest. For several seconds she holds us there in silence, connected against her heart. I stare down at the strange picture, wondering what she’s thinking, hoping whatever this is is what she needs.

  My gaze drifts to the simple chain around her neck. It doesn’t even have a pendant on it. It’s so thin it’s almost transparent against her pale skin, and I follow the curve around her neck, across her collarbone and… disaster. My roaming gaze clips the edge of our hands and lands on the swell of her breast. Just a hint. Just enough to ignite every ember already burning inside me.

  Damn this is going to be a long, brutal night. Since when did holding a girl’s hand become an R-rated activity?

  She sighs and closes her eyes. “Sorry,” she says finally, freeing our fingers. She places my hand back on my lap, and the chill of her absence spreads through my palm. “Let’s go.”

  I nod and turn to Naomi in the backseat. “You ready?”

  My niece doesn’t respond, her head bobbing in a clear rhythm. I wave my hand near her face, and she pulls an earbud out.

  “You ready?” I repeat.

  “For what?”

  “To go inside and meet Hadley’s family. Remember, we’re pretending Hadley and I are dating.”

  “Your weird plan is a go, got it.” Naomi looks over at Hadley in the passenger seat. “Is it true your parents are Pearl Andrews and Remington Crawford?”

  “It’s true,” she answers in a polite tone. I can tell she likes that question about as much as I’m loving the annoying sign on the restaurant.

  “And Jasmine Crawford is your sister?”

  Hadley nods.

  “And Teodoro Crawford is your brother?”

  Hadley sighs. “Also true.”

  “Damn,” Naomi mutters. “How’d you turn out so normal?”

  Hadley grins and finally seems to relax.

  We hold hands again on the walk to the restaurant, but this time as an act. Not gonna lie, I still like the feeling of her hand in mine, even when it’s just for show.

  “Ms. Crawford,” one of the suited security guys at the door says as we approach.

  “Hi, Bruce. How’s Mary doing?”

  “Much better. Thanks for asking.” The slightest hint of a smile cracks the hard man’s face. The other guy opens the door for us, and we all move inside.

  “A full security detail for dinner?” I ask under my breath.

  Hadley gives me a look. “Just wait.”

  We must be late because everyone else is seated when we make our way into the private dining room. Hadley has tensed to the point where her hand has latched onto mine for real again. I squeeze back to reassure her as her glossy family beams with phony radiance at our arrival.

  “Hadley, darling!” A woman who could be her sister says, gliding toward us.

  I recognize Pearl Andrews immediately. She’s been in a quarter of the movies I’ve seen in the last three years. Remington Crawford, who approaches as well, was in another quarter. Their luminescent smiles falter when their gazes rest on me. They downright crash when they slide to Naomi.

  “And who do we have here?” Pearl asks in the most forced enthusiasm I’ve ever encountered.

  “Mom, this is my boyfriend Julian and his niece Naomi.”

  “His niece?”

  “I’m her guardian, yes,” I say.

  The woman’s painted eyes widen, an impressive feat considering the weight of the fake eyelashes she’s glued to her lids.

  “You didn’t mention you were seeing anyone,” Pearl says, through a labored smile.

  “It’s new,” Hadley says. “But when you know you know. Right, babe?” she asks, firing a look at me. I return a smile.

  “She showed up at my door to ask me to turn the music down and it was love at first sight,” I say, enjoying the way Hadley stiffens at my subtle barb.

  I wanted to murder you at first sight, her eyes say as they bore into me. Her smile is still passable, though, even if it’s as fake as the others around us. I lift the corner of my mouth in a very real smirk, daring her to counter. Maybe this evening will be fun after all.

  “I see. So you also live in that building.” She says that building like we set up shop in a 19th century brothel. “How lovely you could join us.” Pearl lifts her hand and motions to a woman hovering nearby. “Miranda, we’ll be needing two more places, please.”

  “Julian, nice to meet you,” Remington says, extending his hand. I return a firm shake and look him in the eye. I’m not sure why my girlfriend was dreading this encounter so much, but I want to make it clear I’m not intimidated by them. I don’t miss the way Remington flexes his fingers after I let go.

  The pair forces more bright smiles as we stand in awkward silence, and I have to suppress a laugh at how hard they’re trying not to stare at the yellowing bruise around my eye. The scratches on my cheek have faded into thin red streaks of scabs. My lip is mostly healed, at least, so eating won’t hurt as much as it has over the last couple of days. Kinda wish this was a pool party so they could see the swaths of purple and blue still covering my chest.

  “And what is it you do?” Remington asks, his eyes flitting to the bruise for a second before focusing back on my irises.

  “MMA fighter,” I lie.

  “Really?” I can’t tell if his tone is disgust or horror, but I’d take either one.

  “No he’s not,” Hadley quips, swatting my arm. I grin over at her, and she narrows her eyes in a quick reprimand. “He’s the bandleader and songwriter for Viv’s new band.”

  “A musician?” Pearl asks. And that is definitely disgust.

  “My whole life,” I say, icing the cake with a cocky grin. “I used to play with Eastern Crush, but well, you know how that turned out.”

  It’s hilarious watching two mannequins try not to puke. Their creepy half-smiles linger on their faces as they turn toward the table and lead us back.

  “Hey, dear sister.” A young man pushes up from his chair and pulls Hadley in for a dual cheek-kiss. Hadley mirrors him with natural grace in what must be their normal greeting. This has to be Teodoro. I don’t remember exactly what he does but he’s some big deal in the fashion industry. A designer maybe? Or a model. It’s hard to remember shit you don’t care about.

  Next up is the plastic clone of Hadley. Geez, it’s like looking at some weird alternate reality. It’s ee
rie how they look so alike and so different at the same time. The eye shape is the same, the nose, the lips, everything, except Jasmine Crawford is preened and styled to a flawless forgery of her sister. Where Hadley’s hair hangs in loose natural waves around her shoulders, Jasmine’s is tailored in an intricate up-do that would have required a professional. Her lips are deep red, almost purple, while Hadley has just a hint of shine from clear lip gloss. I know because she touched it up right before we got out of the car.

  Watching Hadley apply lip gloss is also Rated R, for the record.

  The two women exchange the same cheek-kiss thing but theirs is way more awkward. Jasmine’s gaze crosses to me and immediately changes. Okay, yep. That was weird.

  “You brought someone?” she asks, not even looking at Hadley. Her eyes dig into mine, her lips curving up in a flirtatious smile I read immediately. Her smile grows as she skims my body, her attention finally resting back on my face.

  She pushes up from the table and holds out her hand. “I’m Jasmine,” she says in a sultry voice.

  Hadley visibly bristles when Jasmine pulls me in for the cheek-kiss thing as well. Her fingers sink into my shoulder, massaging lightly as her cheeks brush mine. Waves of expensive fragrances mingle around me, messing with my head as her hand slides down my arm for a firm grip of my bicep as she pulls away. Did I just get caressed by an A-list actress? By the steam emitting from Hadley’s face, I did.

  Well, this is interesting.

  Jasmine keeps her eyes locked on mine as her smile spreads into something more aggressive. She gives me a knowing look like we just shared a moment. Like there will be plenty more to come and I’ve already agreed to it. Not the first time I’ve gotten unwanted attention from women. It kind of goes with the territory when you throw yourself on a stage to be gawked at, but I’ve never felt like prey as much as I do now.

  She’s back to her side of the table, and Hadley practically yanks me down to the place beside her. Naomi sits on my other side, and I realize with a sick feeling that I’m stuck directly across from Hadley’s sister. Am I going to have to deal with those suggestive looks all night? Her eyes flare, and the way she tilts her head sends another hidden message I don’t want.