“I never wanted to hurt anyone. Especially you,” she says so softly, I almost miss the words.
Dawson’s face takes on that hard expression again. “Yeah, well. When you play dangerous games, someone’s bound to get hurt.”
He ends the call and stuffs his phone in his back pocket. “Figured I’d never get her to outright admit it. We need to warn Jackson to build his case before he goes at her hard. I don’t doubt for a minute she’ll follow through on every threat.”
“Worried?”
“I couldn’t give a fuck.” He snorts. “Rumors that I had a fling with a hot twenty-two-year-old ain’t gonna hurt my reputation.”
A low growl rumbles out of me and he holds up his hands.
“It’ll hurt Shelby more than it’ll hurt me. It ain’t fair but that’s how it is.”
“You publicly refuting any rumors would be helpful.”
“Of course I will. But keep in mind, if I deny it too much, people will assume it’s true. Glenna will try to smear Shelby as much as possible. Even with the truth on Shelby’s side, it’ll taint her reputation.”
What fucked up world are we living in? Shelby works so damn hard. She hasn’t done a thing to deserve any of this.
“I never thought when I asked Shelby on the tour that something like this would happen. I wanted to help out a new artist. Lift someone up. The way folks did for me early in my career. If I’d known it would make her a target…” Dawson sounds more broken up than I’d expect. Maybe I should put a lid on my cynical side and take him at his word. “I’ll make it up to her.”
“How exactly are you gonna do that?”
He stares at me. “Let me think on it a bit.”
Chapter Thirteen
Shelby
After a few hours of actual restorative sleep, I feel almost human again.
Rooster’s no longer in bed with me when I wake up.
I startle when my gaze lands on a bulky figure in a chair. His back is to the bed, so he’s facing the door. After a few seconds of study, I recognize Murphy and breathe a sigh of relief.
“Murphy?” I croak out.
He jumps up. “You all right? Need something?”
“Water?”
“You got it.” He pours from a pitcher near the bed and hands me a small plastic cup.
With shaking fingers, I manage to take a few sips and hand the cup back to him.
“Where’s Rooster?” I force a smile that probably looks more deranged than humorous. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.” Then it hits me. We’re in Virginia still, I think. “You drove here from New York?”
“Couple of us rode down. Heidi’s here too. She went into the hall to make a phone call.”
My eyes water. “Really?”
“Hell, yeah.” He gently squeezes my hand. “We were all worried about you.”
“Thank you.” I lick my cracked lips, and Murphy motions to the water. I shake my head. “Is Rooster okay?”
“He needed to run out and take care of something,” he says with the evasiveness I’ve come to expect from Rooster’s club brothers. “He’ll be back.”
My eyes are already closing and Murphy’s last words take a few seconds to sink in.
Nightmares of suffocating chase me. I’m buried in a shallow grave while someone tosses heaps of dirt on top of me. Too powerless and weak to dig my way out of the hole…
“Rooster! Oh my gawd!” my mother’s shrill voice pierces through my terror-struck unconscious. Is that really my mother? Or have I shifted to a different dream?
“What happened? Shelby? Baby, are you okay?”
With monumental effort, I open my eyes. Nope. She’s here. Great relief washes through me. I’m not being buried alive, and my mother’s here by my side.
Her warm fingers wrap around mine and she gently kisses my forehead.
“I’m okay,” I mumble, squeezing her fingers and closing my eyes again.
At some point, Rooster must have returned to my bedside. Where’d Murphy go? Did he say Heidi came with him or did I imagine that whole conversation?
“My poor baby. Is she okay? Why isn’t she awake?”
“She’s been in and out of it. Doctor says she’s going to be okay,” Rooster explains in hushed tones. “She needs to rest, though.”
Huh. Almost sounds like he’s warnin’ Momma to keep the drama to a minimum. Good luck with that, Rooster.
“Did you catch him? Where is—” Her question cuts off so fast, I can picture Rooster making a slashing gesture with his hand. At least, that’s how my mind fills in the blanks. I’m too tired to open my eyes again.
“Let’s talk outside and then you can sit with Shelby,” Rooster offers. “I’ll try to track down the doctor so you can ask your questions.”
“Well, I, uh…”
“Come on, Lynn,” Greg says.
How about that. Greg’s here too.
Still can’t muster up enough interest to open my eyes.
“How could you—” My mom’s accusatory tone scratches my nerves.
“Outside,” Rooster says in a harsher tone. “Please.”
My lips twitch. Although I hate having the responsibility fall on Rooster’s shoulders, it’s nice to have someone with a spine dealing with my mother for a change.
Their conversation fades, and I’m free to return to floating on air. Is it too much to ask for a dreamless sleep?
“The tour’s on hold while you recover, Shelby,” Greg says in a low voice. “Don’t you fret about a thing. Everyone’s worried about you and just wants to see you get better.”
“Thank you,” I mutter. His words actually ease some of my gathering anxiety.
“You’re awake?” He sounds genuinely surprised.
“More or less,” I mutter.
“Need anything?”
Nope.
I’m so tired, I’m not sure if I say the word or not. Everything’s quiet for a while. Or maybe I go back to sleep.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life. When we realized you were missing…” Greg says. “I’m so sorry I didn’t take the letters seriously sooner.”
His pitiful voice tugs at me. Whatever happened isn’t his fault. At least, I don’t think so. I can’t round up any anger anyway. Only relief that I’m safe.
“The CMA nominations were announced,” Greg continues.
Wow. Just a few days ago, that seemed like the biggest thing in the whole universe. Now, I feel…nothing. Oddly detached from my old aspirations.
“Really?” I ask, more to be polite than anything else.
“You’re up for Best Female Vocalist of the Year and Best New Artist of the Year. Best Single of the Year for ‘White Knight,’ and ‘Big Lies’ for Song of the Year. That nomination includes Trent. He’s pretty stoked.” Greg’s tired voice is tinged with excitement.
Wow. My fuzzy brain tries to count up the nominations. Four? Dang. That’s more than I ever hoped for. Too bad my current predicament puts a damper on any mounting celebration. “They probably felt sorry for me.” I sweep my hand over the hospital bed.
Greg sits up, leaning closer. “No. Don’t do that, Shelby. They were announced before the story about your kidnapping broke. Those nominations were sealed. Done deals. This is all you. Not pity nods, Shelby. Your hard work this year paid off. Huge.”
Maybe in a few days it’ll hit me and I’ll be more enthusiastic. But inside, I’m too hollow to celebrate a damn thing. It all seems so insignificant after…everything.
I fall back against the pillows and close my eyes. “That’s good.”
Greg blows out a frustrated breath. “Shelby. Your dedication. Your talent. It’s finally being recognized in a big way. I know what happened was awful, but please try to focus on something positive. This will do amazing things for your future.”
Future? What’s my future going to look like? Being terrified every time I go someplace new? Scared of every fan I meet? Wondering which one is the next nutjob who thinks he’s in love with me? Fearing that
the guy who shook my hand and asked for an autograph is secretly plotting to drag me off to his cabin in the woods?
“You can take a break, Greg.” Jigsaw’s rumbly voice is more of an order than a suggestion. “She awake?”
Metal scrapes against the tile and Greg clucks his tongue. “She seems to be in and out of it.”
Sure, if that’s how he wants to explain my lack of enthusiasm about the nominations, I ain’t gonna stop him.
They talk quietly for a minute. I flick my eyes open and watch them at the door. Greg finally nods and disappears into the hallway.
“Jiggy,” I whisper.
He eyes widen, and he slowly prowls closer to the bed. “Songbird, we had quite a scare,” he rasps.
I blink. My eyes well up.
“Shhh.” He brushes his rough fingers over my arm. “How you feeling?”
I try to nod, but it hurts too much, and end up wincing instead.
Jigsaw’s chiseled jaw turns to stone but he gently curls his fingers around mine. “We got to him, Shelby. He hasn’t suffered nearly enough yet. But he will,” he says, so low I almost can’t hear him.
Does it make me a horrible person to enjoy the idea of my kidnapper being tortured by Rooster and his brothers? If so, I guess I’m goin’ to hell.
“I tried to get away. I tried. I ran. But he—” My voice breaks. I can’t stand Jigsaw thinking I’m weak. Too weak to be Rooster’s girlfriend.
“Shh. Take it easy.” Still holding my hand, he drops into the chair next to my bed. “Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll be right here watching over you until Rooster gets back, okay?”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Knowing Jigsaw’s by my side, I slide back into sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Shelby
At some point, my mother returns. Her familiar crisp, sparkling scent wraps around me, comforting and anxiety-provoking in equal doses.
“Here. Take my chair,” Jigsaw says.
“Thanks, Jensen.”
Jensen. Did I know that was Jiggy’s given name?
I can’t seem to dig the information out of my head.
“I talked to her a little before. But I bet having her mom right here will help her get better even sooner.” Jiggy sounds sincere instead of the sarcasm I’ve grown to know and love about him.
Their hushed voices lull me back to sleep.
The door clicks closed.
My mother brushes her fingers through my hair. “Oh, Shelby. I never saw somethin’ like this coming, baby.”
You and me both.
After a few minutes, her warm, soft fingers curl around mine. “This is one more good reason to be single right now. Can’t let those nutters who are obsessed with you get jealous, you know?”
Has she lost her mind?
Slowly, I peel my eyes open. “Are you kiddin’ me right now?”
Her eyes widen. Maybe she thought I was asleep and wouldn’t hear that tidbit of advice. “Shh. Don’t get all flustered. I want what’s best for you. This is career advice. Not personal.”
Bullshit. I snatch my hand back and struggle to pull myself upright.
“Greg told me about the nominations. I’m over-the-moon excited for you.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “Dawson’s up for Male Vocalist of the Year. Wouldn’t it be perfect if you two attended together?”
Yeah, perfectly awful. “If you’re so hot for Dawson, maybe you should date him.”
“Hell, Shelby.” She dismisses the idea with a wave of her hand. “I’m too old for a man like that.”
Brave. Be brave. I’m a big girl. I can buck up and explain myself. I’ve done it before.
Not that she ever listens.
Rooster rescued me for goodness’ sake. Shouldn’t that be enough to stop this foolishness? “Listen to me good, Momma. I’m in love with Rooster. Big time. I’m not pretending to be single or pretending to date someone else for you, my career, or any other reason.”
“Oh, Shelby,” she moans, like I’ve just confessed I flunked out of college. “Love’s a damn disease. It comes on strong and dies slow. Painfully. Don’t do this to yourself. Especially after such a horrible event. It’s the trauma bonding y’all together.”
Ignoring that bit of psychobabble, I push as much force as I can behind what I want to say. “I was in love with him before this happened.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not looking for your advice or opinion when it comes to my relationship, Momma.”
“I’ll always want what’s best for you. Whether you want to hear it or not.”
Nope. None of my words are penetrating her thick wall of crazy. “I think you should go.”
She pulls her hand away and sits back in the chair. “That’s how you thank me for everything I’ve done? Kicking me out? A handsome face and big dick make you turn your back on your mother?”
“You’re being vile.” I wince as I struggle to sit up. Stupid hospital bed. “What’s the matter with you? This isn’t me turning my back.”
“Shelby, this isn’t like you.”
That’s probably true. I’ve never stood up to her when she interfered in my relationships before. I didn’t feel a fraction of what I feel for Rooster for any of my exes, so they weren’t worth arguing about. “I’m explaining that Logan’s part of my life and you’re not listening. I want you to be happy for me, not lecture me.”
“Thank the Lord I talked you into getting that IUD,” she mutters. “Since you’re being so unreasonable.”
Utterly confused, I frown at the change in conversation. “What are you talking about?”
“So he can’t tamper with your pills or something. Men do that sort of thing, you know—knock you up so then you’re tied to them forever. Especially if you’re more successful.”
“You have too much to drink on the plane?” Maybe it’s because I’m out in the world and away from my mother now, but I never realized how weird her obsession with this topic was. I’m painfully aware she gave up her singing career when she got pregnant with me. While I understand how much it must have hurt her when my father left, living in the past isn’t healthy for either of us.
I’m desperately trying to create a future for myself, yet my mother has a backlog of bitterness to clear up. I sure as heck can’t do it for her. And I refuse to allow all that bitterness to taint my relationship.
“Logan is not like that.” My voice comes out a whole lot more steady and calm than I’m feeling.
“Maybe not now. But men like that can’t handle a woman who’s in the spotlight—”
“Oh, cut the bullshit!”
“That’s enough, Lynn.” Rooster’s voice rumbles from the doorway.
I shift and tuck the flimsy hospital sheet around me. Shame heats my skin from cheeks to toes. How much of our insane conversation did he overhear? Does this hospital have a psych ward? Maybe I can check Momma in while we’re here.
“Can I speak to you privately.” Rooster’s tone makes it clear he’s not asking.
“I, uh.” My mother’s head swivels between Rooster and me. “I don’t want to leave Shelby alone.”
She reaches for me but I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the wall. Right about now, Rooster could kick her ass back to Texas and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
Rooster steps out of the room and returns with Heidi a few seconds later.
“Hi, Shelby. Hi, Mrs. Morgan.” Heidi smiles brightly at both of us, and dang, is she a welcome sight.
“Heidi will sit with Shelby so we can talk.” Again, Rooster’s not exactly asking to speak to my mother.
I’m too tired and irritated to introduce Heidi to my mother, but Heidi doesn’t seem concerned about my lack of manners. The tension in the room rises to an unbearable degree.
God bless her, Heidi keeps smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like Rooster’s not boiling with anger and my mother’s not being an overbearing pain in my ass.
“Oh, okay.” My mother brushes past Heidi.
The door cl
icks closed behind them and Heidi turns to face me.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I whisper.
She waves off the apology. “Oh, I’m no stranger to screwy family dynamics,” she assures me. “I’ve got stories that would make your hair and toes curl.”
I would’ve thought it was impossible, but somehow, Heidi’s upbeat chatter washes the bitterness of my mother’s visit away. The knot of tension in my chest loosens, and I actually laugh.
“Murphy and I were sitting with you earlier,” Heidi says.
“Oh, good. I thought I imagined talking to him before.”
She chuckles. “Nope.”
“I can’t believe you came all the way down here.”
“Hell, yeah.” She squeezes my shoulder and smiles warmly. “You have a whole new big family, Shelby.”
Well, thank heavens for that since my blood family seems determined to drive me nuts.
Chapter Fifteen
Rooster
Not that I get off on intimidating women, but Lynn has me so fucking furious, it’s hard not to tower over her, snorting like a bull.
Shelby’s mother is a proud woman. Brave too. Maybe that crazy shit I overheard is an overreaction to the horrible situation. Jackson had given her an outline of what happened to Shelby. Then, she’d listened to what the doctors had to say. Maybe all the information pushed her over the edge.
Nah, fuck that. She’s been beating this subject to death since before the kidnapping. Using what happened to Shelby to get her way is the last straw.
I stroll down the hallway searching for an empty room and some extra patience. The visitors’ lounge is full of my brothers and not really where I want to have this conversation. Finally, a darkened room catches my attention. I shove the door open and peer inside. A stripped-down hospital bed and not much else. Perfect.
I flick the lights on and open the door wider, ushering Lynn inside first.
“What do you want?” Lynn crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin. It’s a proud, defiant expression, so similar to one I’ve seen on Shelby that it melts a portion of my anger.
Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17) Page 11