Notes of the Past (Lightning Strikes Book 2)

by Jodie Larson

  “Yeah, we should do that. Do they still have open mic night on Wednesdays?” I ask.

  Kade shrugs. “Probably. Can’t imagine Gabe’s changing it up too much.” A mischievous smile lights up his face. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Breck and Pax nod and high five each other. “Oh yeah. Surprise concert.”

  “Gabe is going to hate us,” Breck says.

  “He already hates us. Since we left, half his crowd is gone. I still get text messages of the empty bar every once in a while,” Kade says.

  We laugh as Don walks by. “Okay guys. Sell-out crowd tonight. Let it wail.”

  He gives us a thumbs-up before Pax takes the stage, setting up behind the drums, giving us the beat to walk out to. It pulses through my veins, lifting every care in the world from my shoulders, giving me that one perfect moment of clarity. This is what I live for, the high of rushing onstage to thousands of people screaming our names. Obviously all the girls scream for Kade since he’s the front man, knowing he’s off the market. It’s a good thing Adrienne’s secure in their relationship to not let it bother her anymore. In the past, it came between them. Now, nothing fazes them. Sure, they still have their tiffs, but we all know when they’re done. Some things you just can’t unhear. Or unsee.

  A half hour into the show and the crowd is still screaming, still feeding us their energy. I can’t keep still and find myself wandering the stage, strumming along while Kade grabs hold of the microphone, belting the lyrics out. I catch him every once in a while peeking to the side, his eye landing on Adrienne, who’s smiling and bouncing with excitement. Next to her is her best friend, Quinn, singing along to the words. She’s a hottie too, with her blond hair and button nose. Too bad she’s Gabe’s girl. She was too good for me and I knew it when she came backstage the first night to give Kade her number. Quinn has an evil streak in her, which I found sexy. Now, knowing her more, she’s not so bad. Her heart is in the right place and she makes Gabe happy. And since we owe Gabe so much, he deserves happiness.

  Two more songs to go. Time to find the lucky girl of the night. And since we’re back home, there’s no hotel to take her to. I refuse to bring a girl back to my place. You never know if they’ll turn into a creepy stalker, or steal my shit. I have enough to deal with in my life, having some girl lose her shit and turn psycho isn’t something I need. So it’ll be in the dressing room or her place.

  A cute little blond a few rows back, barely out of sight, catches my eye. Long hair flows over her shoulders, shrouding her face like a veil. She’s turned to the side, not fully facing us, as if she’s purposely trying to blend in with the crowd. Huh, interesting. Every other girl is practically losing their minds, trying desperately to get closer to us, yet she’s aloof, almost uninterested.

  Sounds like a challenge.

  Kade starts singing our final song, the ballad I wrote years ago which helped us top the charts for the third time. I try to stay focused on the mystery girl in the crowd. I’m about ready to signal to the security detail to bring her back when she turns and faces me. Her smile brightens quickly before we lock gazes with each other. Those cheekbones, those lips, that smile. If she was closer, I could even point out the freckle shaped like a pear on the back of her arm. It feels like I’m falling down a hole, even though my feet are planted firmly on the ground.

  I strum the wrong chord, causing Kade to look over. My eyes go wide as I try to focus on playing, even though my gaze keeps going back to the blond just out of sight. She’s still there, unlike that time when she ran. She leans over and says something to her friend, eyes laughing with enjoyment. What the fuck is she doing here? Better yet, why?

  We end the show, the crowd erupting with cheers and whistles. Taking a bow, we thank them and head off-stage. Pax, Breck, and Kade all high five each other, bumping chests and doing a few other stupid rituals after a show. I can’t do that now. Before I even realize it, I rush to the side to get a look at the crowd one last time.

  She has to still be there. A chill runs over my skin, letting goosebumps cover me as I see her, still standing in the same spot. There are too many people around and she’s basically jammed, unable to move.

  Nine years. Why the hell would Tatum come back after nine fucking years away? Better yet, why do I care? She sure as shit didn’t care when she took off without warning. No goodbye, no phone call. Fuck, I didn’t get shit. Just an empty side of the bed and an aching heart.

  “Myles?” Kade calls, but I don’t acknowledge him. I need to find out why she’s here. Why after all this time she has decided to show her face to me. Twice.

  Without thinking, I jump the stage, landing in front of the barriers separating me from the crowd. Girls instantly flock around, grabbing anything they can reach. They don’t stop as I push them away. The blond I’m looking for has something that belongs to me; a piece of my broken heart. She doesn’t deserve to have anything, not after the way she left.

  Tatum sees me when I’m two rows away. Her eyes widen, fear showing as her face pales. She says something to her friend and starts climbing on top of the chairs, trying desperately to get away from me.

  Oh no you don’t. Not this time, little girl.

  Following her lead, I get on a chair and move faster, though still a few rows back. She stumbles slightly and part of me wants to reach out to save her before she falls. A few girls pull at my shirt and I escape by leaping to the next row. She’s almost an arm’s length away. Her little stumble slowed her down. A few girls yell at her, calling her a bitch until they see me heading their way. Tatum is quickly forgotten as they try to get my attention.

  “Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through.” The crowd doesn’t clear, instead seems to swarm in closer, making it harder to keep up with her. I don’t know how she’s able to move so fast, climbing over chairs and not getting swallowed alive.

  “Myles!” Brecken yells from the stage. I can hear security behind me, trying to move the fans to retrieve me. Not yet. I need to get to her first. Leaping another row, she’s only a few chairs in front of me now. I reach out and touch her arm. It’s soft and warm as I wrap my fingers around it, stopping her escape.

  Tatum gasps loudly, freezing the instant I turn her around to face me. When our eyes lock, a million memories flood me: sitting next to her at lunch in school, taking walks through the neighborhood, her cheek pressed against my chest as we slept, her lips finding mine in the back of the movie theater, the smell of her skin as we laid out in the sun at the beach.

  All anger and drive I had to fight her leaves when she stares right through me as if I were a ghost. Maybe she’s the ghost with as pale as she is. Fuck, she looks like she’s going to pass out.

  “Tatum.” Her name falls so easily from my lips, like it had years before. “It’s you.”

  Her eyes widen further as security comes up behind me, trying to pull me away.

  “Mr. Donovan, we need you to come with us,” one of the bald guys says to me. I try to jerk my other arm from him, refusing to let Tatum go. Not yet. Not until I talk to her.

  When I turn back to her, her eyes glisten and she shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispers and pulls her arm free when the other bouncer flanks my other side, pulling us apart.

  “Mr. Donovan, we need to go. Now.” His voice is sterner than the other guy’s, a serious edge in his tone. Fuck that.

  “I’ve got this.” But when I look back, Tatum’s gone, vanished into the crowd. I climb higher, trying to keep my balance on the back of the seats so I can see where she’s gone. It’s no use. She’s not there anymore.

  I grip my hair and jump down. “Fuck! Dammit, I was just fine.”

  Noise squawks in their ear and the guy to my right says something into his earpiece. “Affirmative. You need to go backstage. It’s not safe out here.”

  A sharp pain stabs my back as several girls sink their claws into me. Pieces of my shirt dangle from their fingers as the security detail gets me away from the situation. When I’m safel
y back with the guys, I lean against the cool wall, letting it soothe my burning skin.

  “What the fuck, Myles?” Kade says, turning me around to inspect the wound.

  “It’s fine,” I say, shoving him away. “Fucking crazy chicks out there just needed a piece of me.”

  “You’re the one who’s fucking crazy,” Breck says. “Why would you go into the crowd?”

  I take a few calming breaths and close my eyes, still seeing her behind my lids. “I saw her. She was here.”

  “Who?” Kade asks.

  When I open my eyes, it takes everything I have to move the hardened mask back into place. “Tatum.”

  Kade’s eyes go wide. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Fucking positive. It was her. I had her in my hands until security grabbed me.”

  “No way. Tatum?” Pax says, coming closer.

  My heart is still beating wildly, either from the excitement of the night, or chasing Tatum through the crowd. The ghost of her soft skin still lingers on my fingertips.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be pissed at her, not acting like some fucking pussy that’s missing his heart. I shake my head and push off the wall.

  “Whatever. Bitch is gone now. Just like the last time. Without a goodbye.”

  The guys let me go as I walk toward the dressing room. They could see on my face I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Slamming the door behind me, I grab the bottle of Jameson and toss the cap into the garbage. Taking a long pull from the bottle, I sit down on the couch and rest my elbows on my knees, dangling the bottle between my legs.

  “Fuck you, Tatum. You don’t get to come back into my life. Not this time.”

  I take another pull and lean back to lay my head against the cushions. A million emotions wage their war to come out. But only one prevails.

  Rage.

  A pounding at the door matches the pounding in my head. The bottle of Jameson probably has more to do with the ache than anything else. That and I haven’t stepped foot outside my house since the guys deposited me here after the concert. I pull myself off the couch and open the front door. The sunlight hurts my eyes as I shield them before the pain escalates into intolerable. Squinting against the glare, I find Brecken leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

  “The dead rises. Should I be in fear of my brains?”

  I open the door wider for him and make my way back to the couch. “That would involve you having brains. Pretty sure I’d starve if I had to rely on you to feed me.”

  Brecken sits in the chair across from me, tossing a blanket to the floor. “Nice. You know your room is just down the hall, right?”

  I lie down and throw an arm over my eyes. “Nope. Never been here before. Thought I’d just crash on the couch until the owner kicked me out.” He hits me with a pillow, making my stomach roll slightly from the assault. “Fuck, man, knock it off.” A dizzy spell hits me and I concentrate on deep breathing to get rid of the nausea creeping up my throat.

  Brecken picks up one of the empty bottles and dangles it in front of my face. “Maybe if you hadn’t been drinking whiskey like it was water you wouldn’t feel like this?” The bottle lands with a thud against the table. “What’s going on with you? Is this still about Tatum?”

  A low groan escapes at the mention of her name. “Fuck no. Maybe I just need to unwind after being on the road for so long.”

  I move my arm and see him sitting back in the chair, thoughtful and quiet. “Right. I’ve seen you relax,” he says, using air quotes. “This isn’t how you do it. What happened between you and Tatum the other night?”

  Slowly, I sit up and wait a few seconds for the world to right itself. “Nothing happened. I saw her, went after her to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, she got scared and ran. Again.”

  “But why?”

  “Do I look like a fucking fortune teller? I have no idea why she ran. Maybe she’s still a cold, heartless bitch.”

  His eyes turn icy blue as he glares at me. “Shut the fuck up. You know damn well she’s not like that.” I hold my hands up defensively, which seems to appease him. “Why was she there after all these years?”

  “Guess I’ll never know.” I take a deep breath and sigh. “She was in Denver, too.”

  Brecken’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Denver? Really? You sure?”

  A man never forgets a woman like Tatum. In a crowded room, I could always pick her out. Bright eyes, killer smile, and a body built for sin. It’s like her aura shines brighter than anyone else’s, drawing me to her each and every time. It was like that in high school. It’s still like that to this day, as much as I don’t want it to be.

  I scrub my hands over my face and run them over my head before pulling down on the back of my neck. “Positive. I’d know her anywhere.”

  “Sounds to me like there are still feelings there.”

  “Sounds to me like you need a punch to the face.”

  He holds his hands up. “Sorry. Just an observation. Why else would you be doing this to yourself?” Breck waves a hand to the mess on the coffee table between us.

  I scoff and stand. “Would you rather have me knee-deep in pussy again? Cause I can make that happen if you don’t like the booze.”

  A laugh escapes him and he slaps me on the shoulder. “Thanks for that visual, asshole.”

  “So to what do I owe this visit? Has the search party sent you out to make sure I’m still alive?”

  He shakes his head while walking over to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and reclaiming his seat. “It’s Wednesday.”

  “Yeah. And?” Am I supposed to remember something? What’s so special about Wednesday?

  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward. “The Warehouse?”

  “Fuck.” I groan, scrubbing my face one more time. “I forgot about that.”

  “Well, you better get your shit together so we can do this tonight. We owe it to the crowd that’ll be there to give them our best. After all, if it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be here today.” He empties the bottle and adds it to the pile on the table.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” I’m not sure how, but somehow I’ll get sober enough to go out.

  Brecken stands and holds his fist out for a bump. “Do what you need to do. Just make sure you’re there by eight o’clock tonight. Gabe’s expecting us. He’s kept it quiet but I think word has gotten out because he’s called in backup behind the bar.”

  “Adrienne?”

  He laughs. “Yep. As long as Kade can keep his cool. He wouldn’t promise anything.”

  “I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

  “I’m not. You won’t disappoint.” He slaps my shoulder and walks out the door, leaving me alone again.

  I glance at the clock when I make my way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It’s still mid-morning, so there’s plenty of time to sober up before tonight. As the coffee brews, I pull out a package of bacon and start frying it, along with two eggs. Once my breakfast is ready, I sit at the table and eat, willing the greasy food to work its magic. The grumbling of my stomach stops instantly as I clear my plate. The coffee helps clear some of the fog, but I still grab the bottle of Advil from the cabinet above the fridge and down three pills with a large glass of water. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a bender like this. Unsurprising, the last time I can recall involved Tatum as well, when she left me the first time.

  Shaking my head, I down another glass of water before walking into the bathroom. I start the shower and strip while the water heats up. When the scalding heat hits my tired muscles, my entire body relaxes for the first time in days. There’s no need to get myself this worked up over her. It was an anomaly. It had to be. This past year and a half is the first time I’ve been gone from Kansas City for any amount of time. If she wanted to see me, she knew damn well where I was. Up until I bought this house from Kade, I had been living with my parents. She practically lived there with me
in the apartment above the garage. And now that I’m famous, she comes crawling out of the woodwork. Tatum was never after money or fame, but things change, especially when someone gets shown in the spotlight. Several people from our graduating class have reached out to me since the Lightning Strikes gained success, wanting me to invest in their get-rich schemes or needing a loan until they can get back on their feet again. Fuck that. I’m not a bank. If you didn’t give a shit about me then, I’m not going to give a shit about you now.

  Leaning my head down, I let the water run over my hair. It drips down my nose as I close my eyes and picture Tatum from the other night. Even though I should be mad, she’s still the only woman who has brought me to my knees with her beauty. It’s effortless. She never used to spend hours doing her makeup or worrying about what outfit to wear. She had her own style, something she called Boho chic. Whatever the hell that meant. All I know is the girl I saw the other night is still very much the one I picture in my dreams. Flawless skin, golden hair, and that fitted t-shirt highlighting every curve of her body. I didn’t get farther than that. I couldn’t.

  “Fucking Tatum.” I lean against the wall with one hand while my other works over my dick, growing hard at each stroke to the thought of her breasts, her mouth, her eyes, and her smile. That fucking smile did me in every time. The one she gave only for me. I saw a hint of it in the crowd before she saw me. My hand works faster, Tatum still taking my thoughts as I come hard, growling her name in my release.

  Maybe I just need to work her out of my system. You haven’t yet and you’ve been doing this for years.

  Shutting the water off, I towel dry and head to the bedroom, grabbing some clothes and fixing my hair. I should probably go spend time with my parents before I head out. My mom’s called me ten times in the last few days. I promised her I’d come over for dinner. A good dose of mom’s home cooking would put me in the right mood before tonight.