Whole Lotta Heart: Rock Star Hearts - Book #4

by Amity Cross

I held onto Ziggy’s leash, watching him sniff a trail across the lawn. The McMansion’s garden wasn’t anything special—it was this vast stretch of grass that led down to the water, where a little floating concrete jetty sat at the edge. Both fences were lined on either side with a variety of trees and hedges, like wattle, bottlebrush, and various Australian natives. A few red parrots sat in the branches, twittering and squawking at the sight of Ziggy. The little dog loved the water, but he also loved chasing birds, so my grip tightened on his lead.

  I couldn’t be afraid of the world anymore. The press, Beneath’s fans, Mallory, my own feelings towards the attack, the fear of being photographed by the paparazzi, the social media notifications—none of it. It wouldn’t stop just because I wished it would.

  I had to be strong. Sebastian would need me when he came home, no matter what choice he made next. If he came home.

  My phone began to ring, and I snatched it out of my pocket.

  It was Josh.

  “Please tell me you’ve found him,” I blurted. “I’m at my wits end.”

  “We’ve been trying all day,” Josh replied. “He isn’t picking up his phone, Harry hasn’t heard from him, and Farmer is at a loss. I don’t know what else to do. The last time he took off was when he met you.”

  “Shit.”

  Sebastian had been looking for something real and had gotten more than he’d bargained for. What if he thought he’d made a mistake loving me? What if everything we’d been through was too much and this was his way of checking out?

  I choked back a sob and lowered my head against my free hand. I was lost. My temples throbbed with the beginnings of a pounding headache.

  “You okay?” Josh asked.

  “Yeah, I…” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “We’ve looked everywhere,” he went on. “Apart from tracing his credit cards, I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Statfield already did that,” I said. “He hasn’t used them.”

  “He can do that?”

  “Vix used to do it. Statfield said it was easy to hack the details.”

  “Who is that guy?” Josh mused. “The American James Bond?”

  I wanted to laugh, but I was too distraught without Sebastian. Knowing he was alone and hurting, and that there was nothing I could do to help him, broke everything inside me.

  “If he uses that footage to take down Mallory…” The guilt would eat him up.

  “I know.”

  Ziggy tugged at his lead, looking back at me.

  “Do you want me to come over?” Josh asked. “It’s no trouble.”

  “No, it’s okay. He might go to your place.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. It’s cool. I’ve got Ziggy.”

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Juniper?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s coming back. I know he is.”

  20

  Juniper

  The next morning, I woke to an empty bed and a Jack Russell terrier all up in my personal space.

  My fingers splayed across the mattress, hoping, but it was cold.

  I checked my phone, but there were no messages from him.

  There was nothing in the tabloids, either.

  The world was eerily silent.

  When I went downstairs, Statfield and Farmer were arguing in the kitchen. Lingering on the stairs, I held my finger up, making Ziggy sit silently at my feet. Knowing it was a gross invasion of privacy, my anxiety rose as I listened to their conversation.

  “He took off on your watch,” Farmer exclaimed.

  “I was protecting Juniper,” Statfield replied, his tone chillingly calm.

  “You should’ve been protecting both of them. That woman attacked her, but he’s also a target.”

  “You’re saying I should’ve protected him from himself?” the bodyguard scoffed. “There’s only so much I can do, Farmer. You’re the one who walks the dog and stares at security feeds all day. You’re a fucking mall cop.”

  “She’s heartbroken, arsehole. You could’ve stopped him, but you were too busy beating off to your charge.”

  “The fuck?” Statfield shouted. “There’s a line, Farmer, and I’d never cross it.”

  A surge of rage seared through me and I thundered down the stairs with Ziggy on my heels.

  “Stop it!” I shouted, my temper flaring. “Just shut the fuck up!”

  The two men stared at me, their expressions contorting in various shades of mortification.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked, my voice rising. “Put out a missing person’s report? The last time that happened, the world went into a frenzy looking for him. We do that, and we’d never be left alone again. The mentally unstable rock star and the suicidal gold-digger. It would ruin us.”

  Right now, I felt like I barely knew Sebastian at all. I wasn’t enough to keep him here. Had I failed him that much? I should’ve seen the signs, but I’d been blinded by my own pain. If I’d known, he’d still be here.

  “This isn’t about you,” I seethed. “It’s about me and Sebastian, so get over yourselves. There’s nothing we can do. Nothing, you hear!”

  “Juniper.” Statfield took a step forward. “We didn’t mean—”

  “He’s gone,” I said, barely holding onto my tears. “Whatever happens next… it’s his choice. I can’t make it for him.”

  I turned, heading for the last place I knew I could connect with the love of my life.

  The music room was empty, but full of everything that made up Sebastian Hale. His awards, the framed records and photographs, the messy stacks of music equipment, the tangled cords, and his prized guitars. His journal sat on the table before the couch, a black pen sticking out of the pages. The cap had been chewed, hinting at the many tense brainstorming sessions it’d endured.

  I sat on the couch and wrapped my arms around my stomach. Ziggy leapt up next to me and curled into a ball, sensing something wasn’t right.

  Finally, I reached for the journal, my fingers stroking the soft leather cover.

  A date was dribbled at the top, letting me know he’d written it a few days after we’d reconciled after the sex tape scandal. It must’ve been the song he was working on when I’d walked in on him in here. Things had been tense, I’d been stubborn, but he still fought for me. Was I fighting hard enough now? No, I wasn’t…

  I read the lyrics, my fingers tracing his strange, all-caps handwriting.

  * * *

  I’ll fall into the sea, let the sand run under my skin

  Burn a hole in my heart so the rain gets in

  Let the empire crash, close the drugstore

  I gotta get back to the lonely shore

  * * *

  Let the storm rage, I’ll cry, I’m encaged

  But I won’t lie still while love lies…

  Let the storm rage, I’ll die, I’m enraged

  But I won’t lie still while love lies—

  * * *

  The song was unfinished, but it said what I’d been unable to figure out about him. He’d been willing to give up everything he was and would ever be if it kept me safe. He wanted to go back to the lonely shore—our time in Point Mambie—where things had been simple. It had nothing to do with the shooting or the child we lost—it was just who he was.

  When I’d raged at Statfield and Farmer, I’d been right. There was nothing anyone could do to bring him back.

  He had to make the choice—to ruin Mallory or to come back—on his own.

  I curled up on the couch, hugging his journal against my chest, and cried. I let the floodgates open, powerless to halt the anguish.

  Ziggy wormed his way up the couch, nestling against my stomach. His nose pushed at my arms, trying to bury himself in my embrace, but I couldn’t let go of the journal.

  For the first time, not even he had the power to console me.

  “Juniper…”

  My eyes eased open, revealing darkness and a silver landscape be
yond the windows. I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch.

  “Juniper…”

  I fixed my gaze onto the shadow looming over me. Long fingers were stroking my hair, and the scent of musk and male spice filled the air. My body tensed, but it wasn’t from fear—it was desire. Was I dreaming?

  “Sebastian?”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  A strangled sob burst from deep within and I flung myself at him, winding my arms around his neck. He was real.

  “You came back,” I cried, my hands spearing through his tousled hair. “You came back.”

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips brushing my neck. “I’m sorry, Juni. I broke. I couldn’t…”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” I drew back and cupped his face in my shaking hands. I had to keep checking to see if he was real. He was rumpled, and his eyes were dark with exhaustion, but he was in one piece. “Victoria told me she gave you—”

  “I’m not going to do it,” he murmured, his voice laced with an emotion I’d never heard in him before. “I can’t be like her, Juniper. I can’t.”

  “I know,” I murmured, stroking his face. “I know.”

  “You’re more important to me than anything in the world,” he said, his gaze searching mine. “I didn’t want to lose you because I didn’t want… And Mallory’s trying to take you away from me, too. It’s always something, but I didn’t want it to be because of me.”

  “You’re never going to lose me, you hear. Never.”

  “But the… the baby.” He let out a strangled moan and held me tight against his chest. “You said that you couldn’t change your feelings… I—”

  “It’s okay, Sebastian. You don’t have to shoulder everything anymore. We can do it together.”

  He shook his head. “I said all those things to you. About being fucking strong and changing your mind about wanting kids. I said—”

  “I know what you said.”

  “I didn’t believe any of it.”

  “Yes, you did,” I stated. “We both weren’t ready for that kind of responsibility, but it doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have loved that child and less had it been born.”

  “I didn’t want it,” he argued, trying to convince me how unworthy he was, but I didn’t believe him. About his worth or the baby.

  This ran so much deeper than the physical wounds. It wasn’t only women who felt the loss of their unborn child… it was the fathers too, and for him, his memories of a happy family weren’t the same as everyone else’s.

  “Sebastian, you aren’t your father.” He froze, his eyes widening, but I wasn’t done. “You’ve lived a wild life, but that wouldn’t have made you any less of a father. You’ve got a big heart and there’s room in it for everyone.” He was stunned, his body trembling in my arms. “It was unexpected, and we found out in the most horrible way imaginable, but we’re only human. We’ll work through it. We’ll find peace.”

  “I want to believe you, but—”

  “Believe me,” I said with a fierce determination. “We’ll make sense of this, but we need time, okay?”

  “Time,” he mused. “Everything’s happened so fast, hasn’t it?”

  I nodded, brushing my lips along his. We’d fallen instantly, and the whirlwind had swept us up, seeming to tear us out of space and time. We needed to take a breath and just be.

  I smiled, something clicking into place inside my heart.

  “What?” Sebastian asked, his brow creasing.

  “I love you,” I replied. “You’re the other half of my soul. My twin flame.” My forehead pressed to his. “Next time…”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll come to you. Only you.”

  “Maybe via the office of a real kick arse therapist.” His eyes narrowed, and I tutted. “I know you don’t like talking—in that we’re a perfect match—but this…”

  “Yeah,” he said after a moment of thought. “Maybe we should.”

  “Cool.”

  “Cool?” His head tilted to the side.

  “Cool.” I kissed him, our lips fitting together, and tasted the salt of our tears on his skin.

  “What about Mallory?” he asked. “She isn’t going to stop. Things are going to get a lot worse if we do nothing.”

  He was right, but we didn’t have to stoop to her level to end her reign of terror. There would be no leaking of footage, no malicious gossip spread in the tabloids, no paying people to seduce anyone. There was a better way.

  I pressed my forehead against Sebastian’s and stroked my fingertips along his jaw. “I think it’s time for that press release, don’t you?”

  21

  Stargazers

  BREAKING NEWS - 01:11 February 16th

  * * *

  Juniper Rowe, girlfriend of rock star and leading man of Beneath, Sebastian Hale, has issued a statement via her social media platforms, directly addressing the incident where she was attacked in Hale’s Sydney mansion last Christmas.

  In a heartfelt post, she detailed the moment she came face to face with her assailant, and the anguish she and Hale faced in the aftermath.

  “The loss of a child is never easy. Not on the mother, or the father,” she wrote. “There are no easy answers when you wake up from a month-long coma to find out you lost something you never knew you had. The struggles Sebastian and I have faced in the last two months have been difficult to come to terms with, and the stories you have read about us in the papers haven’t told the full story. No one will ever know what’s at the core of another human being. They will never truly understand the suffering unless you too have shared in it.

  “The fear, the hatred, the bullying, and the attacks need to stop. This is not how we treat one another. Women attacking other women. Men shaming other men. We need to hold out our hands and help each other out of the darkness. We need to tell our stories without fear. This is how we heal.

  “I will be donating all the money I received in the sale of my mother’s shop to Australia’s leading charity, the Hope and Heart Foundation, who assist grieving parents in their hour of need. I can only hope mine and Sebastian’s story, and others like it, will be heard by those who need the support the most. You aren’t alone.”

  And in a surprising swipe, she added in a postscript, “By the way, Mallory Grigorio and I have not and never will be friends. Check your sources before you print. PEACE.”

  Read into that what you will.

  In a happier outcome, a post appeared on Hale’s social media, announcing his engagement to Rowe. The pair are set to wed in the Australian spring, likely this coming October.

  * * *

  In other news, Florence Victory, long-time manager of Beneath, was sentenced to six years in prison in a closed hearing at Sydney’s Federal Court of Australia. In reports from local media, Victory pleaded guilty on all charges of embezzlement, blackmail, and a variety of other localised crimes, in exchange for a reduced sentence. It’s expected that all members of Beneath will see the return of the money she stole.

  * * *

  Stay tuned for all the wedding news right here at Stargazers.

  * * *

  For upcoming dates and ticket sales for Beneath’s rescheduled European tour, click here.

  22

  Juniper

  Eight months later…

  * * *

  It was fitting to begin again where everything had started.

  Sebastian and I had said our vows on the spot we’d first met—on that lonely beach on the edge of the world.

  Spring in the Point was an up and down affair, and we’d half-expected it to rain. Angry clouds had billowed on the horizon, dumping sheets of water over the ocean, but they skidded past the town and back out toward Antarctica and poor Tasmania. It was a sign, and finally a good one at that.

  I shook my head, my toes digging into the sand, and surveyed the crowd of people swarming Point Mambie’s main street. Few had been allowed on the beach for the actual ceremony, but it didn’t seem to matter
. Someone had gotten on a megaphone and commentated the whole thing, and when Sebastian and I had finally kissed, a cheer had gone up… and the party poppers began to burst open.

  When I said I wanted to have an inclusive wedding, I hadn’t quite realised what that meant.

  Vanessa and Harry had taken it upon themselves to plan—and argue—their way through months of preparation. While Beneath resumed their European tour—with a new manager that wasn’t Harry, but his time was coming—I’d left the pair in charge while I swanned around overseas, a new and improved Juniper Rowe.

  When we’d come back, we found out they’d invited half the country, and set up a street party and a petting zoo for the kids. Sebastian hadn’t minded, but I wasn’t sure he realised just how crazy the Point was until we’d arrived.

  I could see the chaos from the beach and laughed as a wave of pure contentment hit me.

  In an ultimate show of transparency, while also giving Mallory the preverbal middle finger, we’d invited the press to the wedding and the after-party. It was totally crazy, and the mayor of the Point was in a tizzy over the crowd control issues, but that was our life—unpredictable. We were the storm that tore through town, leaving chaos in our wake.

  We’d inadvertently turned the entire Point into one big street party.

  Ziggy was darting through the guests on his extendable lead, begging for crumbs and the ultimate prize of a sausage from the BBQ. He looked dapper in his doggy tuxedo and when he got those eyes going… Needless to say, I reckon he’d had at least a dozen snags already.

  Photographers were snapping pictures of the party, paparazzi amongst them, though I spied a few lenses turned my way. Local businesses had stalls selling local produce and crafts, Hugo was standing on a table with the megaphone spouting his crazy pizza creations at a dollar a slice, and music was blaring over a portable sound system set up along the whole length of the street. There was even a dance floor and a makeshift stage, where I was sure Beneath would make an impromptu appearance later on. The baying of a donkey reached my ears and I shook my head.