RAPT - The Price of Love: Everhide Rockstar Romance Book 3 (Everhide Rockstar Romance Series)

by Tania Joyce

  Kyle threw his backpack onto the floor. “Why haven’t you gone after Taylah? She’s our number-one suspect. She was here tonight.”

  Jones eyes flared with don’t-tell-me-how-to-do-my-job attitude. Of all the detectives on the planet, they’d gotten Mr. Textbook. “We haven’t been able to interview her yet. She’s been in Boston, attending a family funeral. We’re scheduled to meet her tomorrow afternoon unless a positive ID from security footage or forensics comes back sooner. Without further evidence, we must follow procedures.”

  Kyle took a step forward and stabbed a finger at Jones. “Fuck your procedures. Haul Taylah’s ass in and question her.”

  He didn’t like Jones. There was no sense of urgency in his actions. Everything was by the rule book. Didn’t Jones think their case was critical? Gemma’s life could be in real danger. Jones gave Kyle little to no faith in the system. It riled him to boiling point. Did something more serious have to happen before Jones took notice?

  “Kyle.” Gemma locked hard onto his gaze. “Chill. This is just some sick fan wanting attention. Playing games. We’re fine. Let Jones do his job.”

  He wouldn’t let her play this down. She hid behind her smart comments and acting as if everything was okay, but her eyes could never lie. Not to him. “Gem, this is serious.”

  “I know—"

  The trailer door swung open and hit the wall. Bang. Kyle nearly launched through the roof, as did everyone else. His hand shot over his racing heart. He hated being on edge. “Geez. You think you could knock next time instead of giving us all a heart attack?”

  “Sorry.” Serena smirked, then turned to Jones. “Just letting you know I’ve finished up out here.”

  Jones nodded. “Excellent. We’re almost done, too.” He tilted his head toward the door. “You can all go. I’ll call you if we find anything. Someone’s got a grudge, and we need to find them before anything else happens.”

  Finally, one thing Kyle and Jones agreed on.

  Ten minutes later, Kyle, Gemma and Hunter climbed into the Suburban summoned by Chester.

  Kyle’s head fell back against the leather seat. Exhaustion seeped into the marrow of his bones. As they headed down the West Side Highway, past the piers and the Intrepid Museum, Gemma curled into his side. She stared out the windscreen, her eyes vacant and glassed with fatigue. Curling one hand around her thigh, he squeezed it. With the other hand, he brushed his face, trying to erase the tension in his jaw. He wanted to go home, pack a bag for him and Gemma, and take off. Get away from it all. Protect her. But running wouldn’t eliminate the threat.

  Hunter flanked the other side of Gemma like a protective shield. He looked at Kyle with understanding in his eyes. He’d do anything for Gemma, too. No hesitation.

  Resting his cheek against Gemma’s head, Kyle closed his eyes, blocking out the bright city lights. What could he do to coax this person out without endangering anyone? Send out a fake press release that he and Gemma had broken up? No, she’d never go for that. Should he put himself up as bait? How? Would something like that work?

  This was one of the worst things they’d experienced since becoming famous. Definitely the most frightening. But they were fighters. They’d made their way out of the gutters of New Jersey to the top of the music world. They’d put up with scandals, scathing reviews and people out to sabotage their career. Together, the three of them had overcome everything. But no matter what happened, nothing would taint Kyle’s relationship with Gemma. Their love was as solid as rock. They could survive anything.

  Anything.

  No crazed fan would break them.

  Not ever.

  Chapter 7

  The intercom desktop phone on Gemma’s nightstand buzzed. Twice. Gemma groaned and rolled onto her back. Who the hell would be here at this hour?

  It buzzed again.

  You’ve got to be kidding me?

  “Who is that?” Kyle mumbled into his pillow. “Tell them to fuck off.”

  Gemma glance at the digital display. 9:30 a.m. Surely she was dreaming. Their friends knew not to call or visit before midday after a show. She hauled the sheet up over her waist and spooned Kyle. Giving him a quick kiss on his bare shoulder, she settled in to go back to sleep. She needed it. She hadn’t slept well, neither had Kyle. Hanging out at their trailer by SummerStage until three thirty a.m. while the detective and his team searched for clues had exhausted her. But every time she closed her eyes, the image of her slashed gear loomed before her. Kyle had been restless, tossing and turning, no doubt worrying about her. Her spiking fear added to her weariness.

  Did the culprit want to cut her like her clothes? Slash her with a knife? The words of the letter flitted through her mind. I’ve warned you. I’ll kill you. Each letter had gotten more and more threatening. More desperate. Squeezing her eyes tight to erase the visions, she was determined to stay strong. If she collapsed, Kyle would get even more overprotective, take matters into his own hands. He’d already upped their security; she didn’t need any more restrictions. Last night, a darkness had swirled in the depths of his eyes, a clear sign he was contemplating something. But the detectives were on the case. They’d handle it.

  She took a deep breath, pushed her concerns aside and snuggled closer to Kyle. She nuzzled the back of his neck, inhaling the fresh woodsy scent of his skin. So good. His short dark blond hair tickled the tip of her nose. His hot, sun-kissed skin was soothing to touch. A whole day in bed with him might be on the agenda. It would help her forget last night ever happened.

  The downstairs door to her apartment clicked open. Gemma froze.

  “Gem? Kyle? It’s me.”

  Bec? Gemma’s heart beat again. What the hell was she doing here?

  “I’m here too,” Sophie hollered. “You in bed? Make yourselves decent. We’re coming up.”

  What? Why? Maybe the detective had caught their stalker and they’d come with urgent news. But even that could’ve waited until after lunch.

  Footsteps thudded up the timber staircase. Kyle whimpered beside her. “Nooo. I need more sleep.”

  Gemma pressed her lips against his shoulder blade and glided her hand over his thigh, the soft hairs tingling her fingertips. “Maybe if we’re quiet, they’ll leave.”

  There was a loud knock on the wall in the hallway. “We’re coming in,” Bec called out in a cautious tone.

  “Go away,” Kyle groaned and covered his head with his arm.

  Gemma rolled onto her back and adjusted the pillow beneath her head. “What are you doing here?”

  Bec and Sophie hovered in the bedroom doorway. Bec, dressed in workout gear, leggings, sports bra and loose-hanging tank top, didn’t look like she’d been to the gym. There was no perspiration or mangled hairdo. No flushed cheeks. Sophie lacked her normal business attire, dressed down in a pair of three-quarter-length cargo shorts and an Armani Exchange logoed T-shirt.

  Gemma homed in on their faces. Both had washed-out looks. The hairs on her arms stood on end and a shiver ran over her skin. “Bec? Sophie? What’s wrong?”

  Kyle rolled over and peered at them. “Ladies?”

  “Um.” Bec took a couple steps toward their king-sized bed. She wrung her hands and cracked her knuckles. “I’m sorry to barge in here like this, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Gemma blinked and blinked to clear her bleary eyes, still trying to wake up. “Is it the detective? Have they found who did it?”

  Sophie shook her head and glided forward to stand beside Bec. “It’s not about last night.”

  Bec’s face paled further and she twisted the dress ring on her middle finger round and round. Never a sign of good news.

  “Bec?” Gemma locked eyes with her. “What is it?”

  But Bec diverted her gaze to Sophie.

  She rounded her shoulders and smoothed her hands over her cargo shorts. “Gem . . . Richard called.”

  “Our lawyer?” Gemma wrinkled her nose.

  “You need to go and see him as soon as possible,�
�� Sophie added.

  Gemma’s mind scratched and scrambled around for a reason why. What had she done now? Had she said something to upset someone and was being sued? What new scandal about her had hit the news? Nothing immediate came to mind. Without a new cell phone yet, she couldn’t quickly check the Internet.

  Kyle propped himself up on one elbow and combed his fingers through his tousled bed hair. “Why? What’s up?”

  Sophie sighed. “Gem . . . it’s about . . . your father.”

  Gemma shot up, wide awake, as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Kyle did the same. Had she heard correctly? “My father?” Her voice pitched as high as the Empire State Building was tall. “Did . . . did Richard find my dad?”

  The remnants of color drained from Sophie’s face. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. “Um . . . no . . . well . . . yes. Richard received a copy of his will.”

  Gemma couldn’t draw breath. Couldn’t focus. White noise filled her ears. “He . . . what? My dad . . . he’s dead?”

  ***

  In a small meeting room decked out with funky blue fabric-covered chairs and a round wooden table in Richard’s office downtown, Gemma waited with Kyle and Hunter. She didn’t know how or what to feel. It’d been an hour since Bec and Sophie told her the news that had left her in a daze. Half the time it felt like she wouldn’t even be able to stand or sit upright if it wasn’t for Kyle and Hunter flanking her.

  Her dad?

  Dead.

  After years of trying to find him, drilling her mother, never believing she didn’t know where he was, and hiring private investigators, Gemma had found nothing. He obviously didn’t want to be located and never wanted anything to do with her.

  Hope for one parent caring about her just died.

  Kyle entwined his fingers with hers and kissed the back of her hand. “We’re here for you.”

  Hunter, on her other side, nudged her in the arm. “Always, babe.”

  Gemma nodded, warding off the sting in her eyes. “I know. Couldn’t do this without you guys.”

  The door to the meeting room flew open and Richard entered, carrying some folders and a shoe-sized box, and placed them on the desk.

  Bile rose in her throat. God, please don’t be an urn of ashes.

  “Hey guys.” Richard gave them a warm smile, his teeth luminous against his dark skin. He straightened his tie and lowered into his chair. “Haven’t seen you for a while. If you haven’t got me working on record label negotiations, severing ties with and signing managers, or paternity and parental agreements, it’s wills and estate dealings. I have to say, you’re one of my more interesting clients.”

  Gemma didn’t share his levity. The past three years had been some of the best and worst in her and her friends’ lives.

  “Let’s cut to it,” Kyle said. “What’s this about Gemma’s dad?”

  Richard grabbed a letter from his folder and put on his reading glasses. “Gemma, I received notice from your father’s lawyer in Kingfisher, Oklahoma along with a box of personal belongings. As we’re aware of your recent issues, we’ve had the items opened and scanned. Nothing sinister.”

  “That’s encouraging,” Gemma’s voice deadpanned.

  Richard skimmed his notes. “Your father’s lawyer states that Henry Lonsdale died on August sixteenth from a heart attack, aged fifty-six, at his place of employment, Jimmy’s Car Repairs. It seems he liked to live off-grid—he got paid in cash, paid rent in cash—under the false name of Kevin Reid.”

  “Kevin? What kind of dipshit name is Kevin?” Gemma’s lip twitched on its own accord. No wonder it was impossible to find him.

  Richard handed her an envelope. “This was in the package. I hope this has some answers.”

  Gemma’s hand shook as she took the envelope. Envelopes had not been her friend lately. But this was from her dad. Would it offer closure? Was it some sob story, the truth, some trash to make her feel better? He never had the guts to face her, so why bother to leave her this?

  She glanced from Kyle to Hunter. The two people she cared for most in the world sat beside her, but right now, she’d never felt more alone. She’d always hoped her dad would come home and they’d reconnect. Have some semblance of being a family. No chance of that happening now.

  Her heart pummeled her ribs. The sooner she got this over with the better. No point in delaying the inevitable.

  She let out a shaky breath and ripped the envelope open. Two handwritten pages of thin white paper with pale blue lines fell into her hands. Scraggly, large cursive writing filled the front and back of each page. Each side contained words and lines crossed out, coffee stains and smudges at the bottom of each corner.

  She read the first line. Dear Gemma. Her hands shot to her mouth to muffle her sob. A shudder ripped through her and splintered her bones.

  “Gem?” Worry licked Kyle’s voice. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew in close beside her. Resting her head against him, tears stung the back of her eyes.

  But no. She wouldn’t let her tornado of emotions get to her. She needed to read this. Needed answers.

  Gritting her teeth, she sniffled and straightened. She wouldn’t cry over someone who’d walked out on her. Left her alone. Abandoned her.

  Richard cleared his throat. “I’ll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be in my office.”

  The door clicked closed, leaving Gemma with the guys. They were as edgy as she was. They knew the hell she’d been through with him gone and how she’d had to live with her pathetic excuse of a mother. She needed Kyle and Hunter’s strength. Sucking in a deep breath and drawing her shoulders back, she blinked her eyes clear, and read.

  Dear Gemma,

  Where do I start? Maybe the reason why I left. If you are unaware by the time you read this, I’m sorry if this comes as a shock, but your mother’s indiscretions caused an irreparable rift between us. I knew about her affairs. She lied continually, even when I caught her in the act. I was unable to tolerate her behavior, and it was one of the many reasons I left.

  When I walked out the door, I knew you’d be upset, would hate me over the years, even try to find me, but I had to make sure you never did. Your PI’s got close about three years ago when I was in South Dakota. I left town quick.

  I’ve made poor choices in life. Getting involved in stealing, stripping and selling off car parts became an addiction. Each deal got bigger and more dangerous.

  One night, things went wrong. The men we worked for wanted their lost money in blood. Afraid of being caught, doing jail-time or being killed, I took the coward’s way out and fled. The only thing I could do to protect you was stay away.

  But I could never give up the cars. The deals. The cash. I kept moving and changing names constantly. I never settled down. You were better off without me.

  I have watched you grow and your success. I’m glad you got out of that hellhole we lived in. I never would’ve come back.

  I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father, or a decent man. I hope one day you find someone who is. I see in the news you’re engaged to Kyle. I hope he treats you like a princess and makes you happy, those things I could never do.

  Six months ago, my heart condition worsened. I couldn’t afford surgery. No such thing as insurance. Doctors warned me to take it easy. Guess if you’re reading this, I didn’t.

  Maybe this is penance.

  Only reason I’m sending you this is so you stop looking for me. Stop wasting your time, money and effort on a man who never wanted to be found.

  It’s over.

  Get on with your life.

  Henry.

  Gemma wiped a tear from her eye. Hurt and anger and hate blistered her veins. “He was a criminal. A coward. A selfish prick. Nothing but an asshole.”

  “Hey.” Kyle rubbed her back. “Did you honestly expect something else? He left.”

  “Did you think he’d be a superhero?” Hunter added, his smirk crooked but serious. “He’s as pathetic as our
dads. Worse, since he’s a crim.”

  Gemma’s heart hurt and an ache shuddered through her chest. Hunter’s dad had chiseled away at his low self-esteem for years. Drummed into him he was wasting his life pursuing music and would never make it. With his parents’ time consumed by caring for his autistic sister, he’d been left to his own devices. He grew an ego the size of North America to hide his pain. But she, Kyle and Kara knew it was a mask. They always knew the truth that others never saw.

  Kyle’s dad had been great until he’d hit the booze. What had started out as Friday drinks became a daily occurrence. She’d hated it when Kyle turned up to school with bruises from the batterings. His mom, Claire, had turned a blind eye, fearing the pushes and shoves. She was the sweetest, most talented music teacher. Kyle could play so many instruments proficiently thanks to her—the drums, guitar, bass and piano—but hated the violin with a passion. Claire had taught Gemma to play piano and guitar and sing, never asking her for a cent because she knew Gemma couldn’t afford it.

  Gemma never forgot the night when they were sixteen years old. Kyle’s dad scared the pants off the three of them when they were jamming in the garage, making too much noise. He’d charged in, red-faced and loaded with beer. He’d grabbed Kyle by the scruff of the shirt and nearly driven his head through the wall. Hunter had yanked Kyle’s dad aside, thrown him onto the ground, and the three of them had run the two streets back to her house and hidden. Her mom, as usual, wasn’t home, so the house had been their safe haven. That night bound them together forever.

  Their dads were assholes.

  But they had one thing over her. They knew their dads. Knew where they were. She hadn’t. “I wish he’d been rotting in prison for his crimes or was killed by his thugs that night. At least I would’ve known where he was. Not a word for fourteen years and I get this.” She flicked the paper with her fingertips. “What bullshit. He’s as bad as my mother.”