by Bella Jewel
“You look so fuckin’ perfect with my cum all over your ass,” he growls, slapping one cheek before reaching down and picking up a towel, using it to clean me up before flipping me over and lying on top of me. “Could lay here fuckin’ you all day, baby, but we gotta face the music sooner or later.”
I look up at him, hair a mess, looking like a fucking God hovering over me, and I don’t want to face the music. I want to stay here all damned day and never look at the music again. I giggle at my thought and push up, kissing him softly before sighing and saying, “Okay, let’s see what we’re working with here.”
He rolls off me and reaches over for his phone, turning it on. I don’t have mine, thank God, not that that’s going to stop any of the drama flowing in the second he looks up the news. I wait, suddenly feeling a heavy weight in my chest as he scrolls, looking for a few minutes, reading a few things, and then he finally looks over to me. “It’s pretty bad, babe. You sure you want to see this?”
“Bad for you, or me?”
He shrugs. “I couldn’t give a fuck if it looks bad for me, bikers always get a bad rap, but … you …”
“Show me,” I sigh, wanting already to stop the tight feeling in my chest, and the ill feeling in my stomach, as I reach for the phone he hands me.
The first words I see are “Country music’s number one star, Scarlett Belle, sells herself for drugs.”
I blink.
You’re kidding me, right?
I read some of the article, which basically says I’m using drugs, and have now started selling myself to a local Denver biker gang to source my addiction. My heart leaps into my throat and my skin prickles. Dammit. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. I blink back the tears and read the next article.
“Scarlett is in danger and has had to turn to a biker gang for protection.”
That one isn’t so bad. The article too scornful.
I move onto the next.
“Scarlett Belle leaves show early, disappointing fans as she runs off with an unknown criminal.”
Good lord. The show was finished.
Who comes up with this stuff?
“No more,” Maverick says, snatching the phone off me. I didn’t realize there were tears running down my face until my hand automatically moves up to swipe them away. “It’s bullshit, Scarlett. It’ll blow over.”
“I know that,” I whisper. “But this is going to have an impact on my career, and Susan is going to flip … if she hasn’t packed up and left already.”
“Every famous person I know has done something wrong accordin’ to the news. In a few days, they’ll have moved onto somethin’ else. Your fans won’t even remember this in a month. You know that.”
“I know, but the hate is going to roll in, and for a few weeks, that’ll backfire on me,” I take a deep breath, and then let it out. “But it was my choice to go last night, so now I have to live with the consequences.”
Maverick leans over, capturing my face in his hands and forcing me to look at him. “You do not ever have to ‘live’ with the consequences of livin’ your own fuckin’ life. You do not have to explain yourself. You don’t not have to justify yourself. You are a human being, you are allowed to fuckin’ well have some freedom.”
“Not in this industry,” I say and my bottom lip trembles.
“It’ll blow over, baby.”
I hope so.
Fuck. I hope so.
-18-
SCARLETT
Dammit.
The way my stomach is twisting is making me feel unwell. I don’t want to face the disaster I’m going to climb off this bike and dive right into, but I know I don’t have any other choice. Actions have consequences and these are mine. Susan will be inside that hotel, waiting, if she hasn’t quit and left me on my own already. There are going to be reporters surrounding the entrance, waiting, hoping to hear something.
Maverick slows down a few blocks away and comes to a stop. He pulls off the helmet and turns to me. “Can’t take you in, babe. Much as I want to. They’ll crucify me. You’re going to have to face this one on your own. You goin’ to be safe?”
“I’ll go around the back,” I tell him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
My voice is shaking with nerves. That’s not surprising. I’m practically crapping myself at the very thought of going in there.
“I’m goin’ to watch anyway, just walk down the street a bit until I can see the hotel. I see any sign of a problem and I’m comin’ in. Don’t give a fuck what your manager thinks.”
I nod, swallowing. He reaches for my helmet, sliding it off and placing it on his lap, then he takes my face in his hands and brings me closer, kissing me on the lips, not deep, just soft. Exactly what I need. With a deep sigh, I climb off the bike. “I guess I had better face the music.”
“Call me when you’re out of trouble, okay?” Maverick murmurs, and those eyes, they make me feel secure inside, like if everything goes completely south, he’ll be there to pick me up.
That’s a damned wonderful feeling.
“Okay,” I whisper.
I smile.
He smiles.
Then he raises his hand in a peace symbol.
My heart explodes, and as I back down the street, I give him one, too. Then, with a lot of hesitation, I turn and walk toward the hotel. I slip around the back unnoticed and move through the pool area outside and into the lobby using the back doors. Someone notices me almost immediately and the reporters try to rush in the front doors, yelling and screaming, and everyone currently standing in the hotel lobby stops, looking over to me.
Security reaches me first, one standing in front of me, one standing behind me, and they start moving me toward the elevator.
“Scarlett!” Someone screams. “Can we have five minutes to hear your side of the story?”
“Scarlett. Can I have an autograph?”
“Scarlett. Is your biker friend with you?”
“Is it true you’re using drugs?”
“Is it true you’re giving up music to become a biker’s Old Lady?”
I close my eyes and let security lead me inside the elevator. Once we’re in and it’s closed, one of them pulls out their phone and calls Susan. I feel a little relief that she’s still here and hasn’t decided to give me the flick yet. But my relief is short lived when I think about the explosion I’m going to walk into. She’s going to lose her mind. I put my hands over my stomach, take a deep breath, and wait for the doors to open.
When it does, Susan is already waiting, her eyes piercing right through mine. She stares at me for so long I wonder if she’s about to explode and tear this hotel to shreds with her rage. Security steps out, and I step out beside them. Avoiding looking at her a second longer. “Thank you,” she says to the two men who escorted me in. “Your help is very much appreciated. I’ll take it from here.”
The two men nod, and step back into the elevator.
And then I’m alone with her.
I raise my head to look at her again, but she’s already walking toward my room. I don’t argue. I follow her. We move down the hall until we reach my suite, and then we step inside. The moment the door is closed, Susan turns, and I brace for what’s about to come. “What were you thinking?”
Her voice is calm.
Far too calm.
I don’t like it.
“I wasn’t,” I tell her, and that’s the truth. I wasn’t really thinking, if I was, I probably wouldn’t have done it.
But I was angry. She invaded my privacy, and then proceeded to try and control my life. Country music star or not, she doesn’t have that right.
“You’re right,” she says. “You weren’t.”
“You went through my phone, and then tried to take it. You are trying to control a life I already have very little control over. I lost it.”
She stares at me, for so long, I wonder if she’s gone somewhere else in her own head, but then she takes a deep breath, and starts … crying.
> It takes me off guard. Completely. Susan doesn’t cry. She yells. She controls. She demands. She holds her own. She does not cry.
But she’s crying.
Standing in front of me. Tears rolling down her cheeks. Crying. Just sobbing. My heart breaks right away, and I step forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Susan. I shouldn’t have done that. I know I’ve left a huge mess for you to clean up.”
“I don’t care about the mess anymore,” she says, her voice breaking between sobs. “I don’t care a single bit. The media is going to and was always going to, find a way to attack you eventually. I thought I could control it, I thought I could keep you out of that, but I can’t. Nobody can. All I’ve done is waste all my energy trying to fight a losing battle.”
“No,” I say softly. “No, of course you haven’t. Susan, you’re a fantastic manager.”
She snorts, and then starts crying again. “You nearly lost your life because I didn’t believe in you. You are running off the rails because I’m holding you so tightly. If I had just eased up and let you go and see your friend, you could have done is discreetly and nobody would have ever known, instead I tried to control it and created a storm.”
I blink.
Wow.
I honestly don’t have anything to say.
“You’re a person, Scarlett. And I’ve been treating you more like a damned machine I can operate how I see fit, that isn’t fair and now this has happened. I should have eased my control a long time ago.”
“It’s not entirely on you,” I tell her. “What I did, it was bratty. It was rebellion. I shouldn’t have behaved like that. But, Susan, you’re right, I feel smothered. I’m not a stupid girl, I use my brain, but I got to the point where I was becoming desperate to escape this world I felt trapped in. I felt like music was no longer a passion, but a job, I felt like I had no say so in my own life. I understand I’m a public figure now, that people see and hear everything I do, but I am still just a person, and damn, sometimes I want time out.”
“I thought I was protecting you from Treyton, I went over the top because I failed you last time. I’m sorry, Scarlett.”
I put another hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. We both screwed up. I appreciate you taking care of me. But those bikers, they were helping do that from the outside. I know they’re not ideal company, I know they’re not what you want the world to see me with, but they are good people. They’re good to me. Please believe that.”
She nods, sniffling.
“Listen, how about we come to an agreement that works for both of us. I am in danger with Treyton, so I appreciate that until that is sorted out I can’t be without some sort of protection. I’ll respect that. How about I promise for the remainder of the tour, I stay safe and don’t go running about, but once I’m home, you trust that I’ll have the protection of those bikers, and you’ll loosen the reins a little? What do you think?”
She looks to me. “You’ll stay in the hotel, and at the shows, for the last bit of your tour?”
I nod.
“And you want me to ease my security off when we get home and trust … bikers?”
I shake my head. “No, Susan, I want you to trust me.”
She studies me. For a good long while. “Okay. I can agree to that. But please, tell me if anything else happens. I don’t want to be left in the dark.”
I nod. “I promise.”
“And if you wish to see that biker, tell me, I can allow him in without the entire world seeing it.”
I laugh softly, nervously. “Okay, I’ll do that.”
“Are you sure about these people, Scarlett?”
I meet and hold her eyes. “I’m surer about them than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. They will keep me safe, Susan. I promise you that.”
She exhales, rubs her chest, and then nods. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Then she surprises me even more.
She steps forward, and she hugs me.
Really hugs me.
Tight.
And finally, just maybe, I feel like things might just work out.
Finally.
~*~*~*~
MAVERICK
“We’re allowed back in,” I say to Mal, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deep. “Scarlett convinced her manager to let us protect her, too.”
“Good stuff,” Mal says, throwing a leg off his bike and falling in step beside me. “Koda is with Boston, trackin’ down more information. We’ll keep an eye on your girl. Got a feelin’ they’re goin’ to move in some way, somehow, I just can’t figure out how yet. They’re up to somethin’, with that news out, I imagine they’re goin’ to do it soon.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Media put my face all over the news, so no doubt if he didn’t know she was talkin’ to us before, he knows now, and he probably won’t be happy.”
“My guess,” Mal says, snatching my cigarette and breathing in deep, “is that he’s goin’ to think she’s giving us information on him. Don’t think he’s figured out we’re actually protectin’ her from him. Which means he might over react, do somethin’ stupid. We need to keep our eyes open.”
“Seems like a smart man, though,” I point out. “Can’t see him doin’ something too stupid, which means when he does somethin’, it’s probably going to be sneaky and that’s what we need to watch for. He’s come this far mostly unnoticed.”
“Make sure your girl has her phone on her at all times and keeps us checked in with anything she might feel is off. We can’t risk anythin’ happenin’. She’s only got a few shows left. When does she drive out to the next city?”
“Tomorrow,” I say, head spinning with possibilities of what Trey might try and do. “She ended up doing one more show here, for the fans, sold out in minutes. Then she’ll hit the road early tomorrow mornin’.”
“Right, well, keep onto her. This is going to heat up, I can fuckin’ feel it, but for the first damned time I don’t know where the fuck it’s going to start.”
I nod, understanding exactly what he’s saying. We have no fucking idea where this man is going to hit, what he’s going to do, or how he’s going to do it. All we know is he’s fucking smart, he’s involving Scarlett somehow, and that’s it. It’s like reliving Nerissa and the events that surrounded her death all over again. Anxiety punches me in the gut. Fucked if I’ll let anything happen to Scarlett. I’ll kill any fucker that even looks the wrong way at her.
I won’t make the mistake of letting her out of my sight again.
“How are you copin’ with all this?” Mal asks, looking over at me, holding my eyes. Can’t lie to him. He knows damn well I can’t.
“Freakin’ me out, brother. Last time we didn’t know what was happenin’, I lost my woman. Not really keen on that happenin’ again.”
He nods, jaw getting tight. “Not goin’ to let that happen, you hear me?”
I nod.
“We’re goin’ to find these fuckers before they get anywhere near Scarlett.”
I nod again.
“Mav?”
I look to him.
“You love her?”
Now I hold his eyes. “Yeah. I fuckin’ do.”
“Then I promise you, we’ll get to the bottom of this with her in one piece.”
I inhale, then drop my cigarette on the ground and crush it out with my boot. “Yeah,” I mutter. “I fuckin’ hope so.”
He slaps me on the back. “We got your back.”
I hope so.
Fuck.
I hope so.
-19-
SCARLETT
“This song is for someone pretty special,” I say into the microphone over the roaring crowd, over the bright lights of cell phones being pointed in my direction.
Through all that. I can still see him. Standing in the crowd, Mal by his side, watching me. My eyes haven’t left his. My heart hasn’t stopped aching for him. I am so in love with this man, it seems nothing I can do is going to take that away now. I�
��m royally screwed, and I’m completely okay with it.
“He saved me. He taught me how to breathe again. He made me feel again. So, I’m going to sing this one for him. It’s a cover, of course, but I think ya’ll will know it.”
I start singing “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri. The crowd goes wild, all of them more than familiar with the song, but I only have my eyes on him. Standing in the crowd. Staring at me. Face blank, but those eyes, oh, those eyes, they’re locked on mine and I can read every thought just with one, single look. I sing, not once looking away from him, my voice trailing out over the crowd, who are all singing along with me.
It’s the most intense moment of my life.
It’s the only way I can tell him just how much he’s come to mean to me.
One day, I’ll finish my song, and I’ll dedicate it to him. But for now, this one says everything I can’t. I belt out the words, both hands clutching the microphone. When he’s standing in the crowd, everyone else is drowned out, and it’s as though we’re in the room together, completely alone. Being the strong, masculine man he is, he doesn’t make any movement, but I can see it in his face.
What it’s doing to him.
The tightness of his jaw, the softness in his eyes, the way his body is almost leaning toward me, as if he wants to shove through the crowd and haul me off the stage. When the song is finished, the crowd goes completely crazy. Screaming and cheering. It’s the most incredible sound. As was hearing them sing along with me. That sound never gets old, it’ll always make my skin prickle. There is something about hearing people’s voices blend together when they sing along, that gets me every time.
Every single time.
My eyes finally leave his, and scan over the crowd. And that’s when I see one of them. Treyton’s men. I would recognize him anywhere, he was around more than once when I was with Treyton. His eyes lock on mine, and I freeze. Thankfully, not mid-way through a song. He jerks a little, and then as quickly as I saw him, he disappears into the crowd. How long have they been at my shows, watching me? I take a deep breath, not wanting to cause any more problems for Susan, and face the crowd again.