Hillbilly Rockstar

by Lorelei James

  didn’t you?”

  “Back off.”

  “All the other weird shit that went missing, you did that too. Changing the hotel reservations. Sending groupies Devin’s way.”

  “Shut your mouth and back off or so help me God I’ll—”

  “What?”

  Then he pulled a gun out of his jacket, pointing it at her with a very shaky hand. “I said back off, bitch.”

  Her heart raced, but she kept a calm facade. “You gonna shoot me now?”

  “If I have to. I’ll tell people you were being attacked and I jumped in to save you and some crazy motherfucker shot you dead.”

  “How much money do you owe?”

  “Why? You got a spare two hundred grand? Right. If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to fuck your way into Devin McClain’s bank account.”

  Liberty kept walking backward, letting him think he was pushing her forward against her will. “Why didn’t you ask Devin for the money? Two hundred large is chump change to him.”

  “Because I don’t wanna lose my job! I told you these people on this tour are my family.”

  A few more steps and he’d clear the concrete wall protecting him from all sides.

  Come on. Keep moving.

  “Bullshit. Family doesn’t steal from family. Family doesn’t lie to family.”

  JT reached up to wipe his bloody nose with the back of his free hand. “Maybe not your family, but mine sure as fuck did.”

  Footsteps skidded on the cement behind her.

  Please don’t let it be Devin.

  “Jesus, JT, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Crash boomed.

  “This is your fault,” JT yelled at her, and his hand holding the gun wavered enough to worry her.

  “Put down the fucking gun,” Liberty said evenly.

  “You’re making me do this. Right now I’d be better off in jail. Carny’s guys can’t reach me there. At least not in this state.”

  “Liberty,” Crash snapped. “Just fucking shoot him.”

  Events never happened in slow motion for her. For her, they happened in a nanosecond. She saw the shadowed form in her periphery vision and then a split second later the form tackled JT. She turned to reach for her gun, saw the muzzle blast and heard the pop as JT’s gun fired.

  Then she felt the bullet rip through her flesh and a warm gush of blood. In shock, she staggered backward before she fell forward onto her knees.

  Devin’s roar vibrated through the air.

  Dozens of footsteps pounded past her. Shouts sounded, and a male voice yelled in pain.

  Crash crouched in front of her. “Liberty, are you okay?”

  “He shot me.”

  Then Devin shoved Crash aside. “He fucking shot you?”

  “Devin—”

  “Where did the bullet hit?”

  “My left arm. Fuck. I always forget how fucking much it hurts to get shot.”

  “Ambulance is on its way,” Crash said. “Cops too.”

  “She can’t wait for the fucking ambulance,” Devin snarled.

  Then Check was right there. “Move. I know what to do.” He spoke in a low, soothing voice, asking where it hurt, gently poking the outside of her biceps and fashioning a tourniquet out of his bandanna.

  Liberty needed to focus on something besides the pain. “Who’s dealing with JT?”

  “Event security guys. They stun gunned him a couple of times.”

  “Wish I coulda had a go at him,” Crash grumbled.

  “Good timing on your part, but how’d you find us?”

  “Devin and I suspected JT was up to something, so in the past couple days, I started watching him.”

  “You suspected JT,” she said evenly. “And yet you didn’t think to oh, discuss it with me? Since I’m—”

  “Not thinkin’ clearly,” Crash interjected, jerking his chin toward Check, who had no idea that Liberty was Devin’s bodyguard.

  Dammit. Even now, sporting a goddamn gunshot wound, she had to keep her mouth shut.

  “Tonight I had to deal with equipment breakage, so I couldn’t keep an eye on him after the show. SOB probably vandalized the equipment so I would be occupied,” Crash said bitterly. “How’d you find JT?”

  “I was by the bus and I heard a strange noise. I tracked the sound and came upon JT and some enforcer type guy beating on him.”

  “Devin said you were lookin’ for me, so I went lookin’ for you. When I couldn’t find you, I knew something was up.”

  “Did you bring Devin along as your crime-fighting partner?” Liberty asked, unable to keep the disapproval from her voice.

  “Fuck no.” Crash glared at Devin. “Odette told him you were worried someone was watching you two and you’d followed JT outside. So Odette distracted security and Devin snuck out.”

  Liberty aimed a cool stare at him, hoping it masked the pain in her eyes. “You decided it’d be a good idea to jump in front of a gun?”

  Devin’s jaw tightened. “I was just supposed to let him shoot you?”

  She opened her mouth, snapping it shut when he made a snarling noise.

  “I lost a hundred years off my life seein’ him with a gun pointed at you. I reacted like any normal man would when the woman he’s in love with is threatened.”

  “He could’ve shot you.”

  Devin curled his hand around the side of her face. “Baby, he did shoot you.”

  She blew a raspberry. “Please. He winged me. Barely a flesh wound.”

  “Jesus.”

  At that point the cavalry arrived. The EMTs helped her up and led her to the ambulance.

  Devin was right there with her, every step of the way.

  After she warned the EMTs that she was armed, they very gingerly cut away the ripped and bloody sleeve of her shirt. She hissed when they started poking around in the wound.

  Her eyes met Devin’s. He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. He’d stayed so close to her side that she figured the EMTs would boot his ass any second. They tried; Devin snarled and they let him stay.

  The EMTs conferred in low tones. The medical jargon meant nothing to her, but the wound was getting to the excruciatingly painful stage. During a break in their conversation, she said, “So? What’s the prognosis?”

  “The bullet grazed you. But given the caliber of the bullet, it took a decent-sized chunk of flesh out of your arm. Not sure if there’s muscle damage, so we need to get you to the ER.”

  “Is there a veterans hospital around here?”

  “Liberty, you don’t have to worry about that. We’ll take care of the bill.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The VA has all my medical records. It’ll save time. Plus, if they’ve got a wound care unit, that’s who I want treating me.”

  “There is a VA close by,” the female EMT offered.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Crash jogged over. “You all set here?”

  “They’re takin’ her to the VA. I’m riding along with her.”

  “Uh, no, you’re not,” Liberty said. “I’m not exactly in the best position to protect you.”

  Devin smiled at the wide-eyed EMTs. “Can you please give us a moment alone?”

  As soon as they stepped aside, Devin lit into her. “Not another fuckin’ word about you protecting me. The guy who caused the problems is under arrest. And there’s no way in hell I’m gonna sit on the bus with my thumb up my ass while you’re in the fuckin’ hospital from a goddamn bullet wound, Liberty.”

  Liberty looked at Crash, expecting he’d talk sense into Devin.

  But Crash just shrugged. “I’m with Dev on this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I know he’s with you, I won’t have to worry that he’ll pull some dangerous dumb stunt trying to get to you.”

  “Fine.” She gave Devin a hard look. “But we’re going to a military hospital. I’m a former soldier, so there will be no fucking coddling me, got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Now give him your gun,”
Devin told her in that bossy tone of his.

  She reached around with her right hand—thank God she hadn’t been shot in her right arm—and pulled the gun from her Undertech concealment shorts and handed it to Crash. “It’s got one in the chamber.”

  “You are one scary-ass woman.” Crash handled it like it was a snake, which amused her to the point she had to bite back hysterical laughter.

  Possibly she was coming down from the danger high and was about to crash.

  Hey, she could crash into Crash. Wasn’t that funny? She had to chomp on her tongue to keep from chortling like a hyena at her awesome play on words.

  “I won’t be able to keep this from the media. So how do you want Big Sky to spin this?” Crash asked Devin.

  “The official immediate statement should be: ‘Unstable tour bus driver took a member of Devin McClain’s road crew hostage. After a brief scuffle, the bus driver is in police custody awaiting charges. The crew member suffered a non-life-threatening wound and is expected to make a full recovery.’”

  Liberty cocked her head. “Wow. If I could clap right now, I would. Damn, guitar slinger, you’re quick on the uptake.”

  Devin smiled. “Ain’t my first rodeo, G.I. Jane.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Four hours later, Devin was stretched out on the bed on his bus beside Liberty. After she’d given her statement to the cops, the docs had doped her up on pain meds since she’d refused to spend the night in the hospital. She’d gone comatose the instant her head had hit the pillow.

  He’d wanted to cosset her in a nice hotel with room service, but they’d hit the road so he could make his next performance.

  A performance he’d be a zombie for since he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Devin had never been so terrified as in that moment when he realized that JT would shoot her. He’d reacted instinctively and he’d do it again, despite Miss Professional Bodyguard’s ass chewing for his macho behavior. She’d pointed out—repeatedly—that he could’ve hit JT at the wrong angle, sending the bullet ricocheting into her head or into her heart. To which he’d calmly replied that her head was so fucking hard the bullet would’ve bounced off it like rubber.

  She’d not found that amusing.

  Eventually his eyelids drooped. Before he succumbed to slumber, he wondered if the drugs would keep Liberty from having combat nightmares. Because guaranteed this event would stir them up.

  The next morning Devin had showered and dressed by the time Liberty woke up. “Mornin’, bullet catcher.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Did JT hit part of your funny bone last night when he shot your arm? Because, woman, that was funny.”

  “Ha. Fucking. Ha. Better?” She struggled to sit up. “God. Did they slip me elephant tranquilizers last night?”

  “No. Just enough to keep you down for at least twelve hours.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost two.”

  “In the afternoon? Shit. I have to call Garrett.”

  “I already did. I told him you’d check in when you were feeling up to it.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “How’s your arm?”

  “Sore. It’ll be better once I start moving it. You did remember to grab that sheet with the recommended rehab exercises?”

  Devin sat on the edge of the bed. “Before you start doin’ physical therapy, are you hungry?”

  “Yeah.” She wilted against the headboard. “I could use a shower.”

  “Shower first because I need to change your bandage.”

  She scowled. “I can do it.”

  “I’m sure you can, sweetheart, but you ain’t gonna do it. I am.”

  “Fine. How bad is the media?”

  “No idea. Been avoiding it. I did call Chelsea Lynn from Country Music Today and gave her an exclusive, since she was the one who’d tipped me off to someone trying to sell pictures of us to the tabloids. See, JT had created this whole spin that you were a controlling bitch and causing problems on my tour. Which just goes to show you how stupid he was. Everyone likes you—except for him. And he got a bunch of his ‘insider information’ wrong, so we narrowed it down to him causin’ the problems pretty easily.”

  “I heard him on the phone trying to get in touch with Waverly O’Brien.”

  “Fuckin’ douche bag. JT was desperate. According to the statement the cops got, JT owes more than two hundred grand to some Vegas bookies.”

  “He didn’t look like a junkie, so I figured he must be into gambling.”

  Devin pushed her damp hair off her cheek. “So observant. That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”

  A worried look entered her eyes. “Why would you want me here if I can’t do my job?”

  “Stop. You’re with me for the duration of this tour. Don’t you think I’m safe now that the threat has been eliminated?”

  Liberty shook her head. “You had incidents in the three months JT was recovering.”

  “But the worst of it, the attack on JT on my bus, the lax security, my guitars bein’ ripped off, all a thing of the past.”

  “But what about your bus getting shot at? And—”

  Devin put his fingers over her lips. “We knew the bus incident might’ve been random. And the protestors I brought on myself. I’m not bein’ reckless. I’ll continue to have security at all the events.”

  “But it won’t be me.”

  “No.”

  “Then what good am I to you?”

  “You really just asked me that?” He tamped down on his temper. “And by the way, when I told you I was in love with you last night, you didn’t even respond. You just continued ripping into me for tackling JT.” Devin kept a firm grip on her chin, not allowing her to look away. “Are you surprised that I have feelings for you?”

  “No.”

  “Am I alone in those feelings?”

  It took her a second to answer. “No.”

  “Good. I’m takin’ care of you. That’ll give us plenty of time to sort out what happens between us when the tour ends in a week.” He kissed her. “Now, would you like scrambled eggs and toast? Or oatmeal?”

  “Both.” Then she purred, “And that’s not all I’m hungry for,” with a glance at his crotch.

  “One thing at a time, sweetheart.”

  On day five of Devin’s mission to keep Liberty under his watch, he would’ve happily shipped her—and his entire crew—to Disneyland to see if being at “the happiest place on earth” would change their shit attitudes.

  They’d had a lousy rehearsal. Everyone was ready to be done with the tour and get home. He chewed collective ass until the band and the crew understood he’d keep the rehearsal going until he was satisfied they weren’t just phoning it in.

  After the marathon session, his security escorted him to the bus. The second he emerged from the stair bay, he saw that Liberty’s bad mood exceeded his and she was loaded for bear.

  She sat on a folding chair in the middle of the living area, working on her physical therapy—bouncing and squeezing a tennis ball. Except she’d modified the exercise. She whipped the ball at the wall above the driver’s cab. If he hadn’t ducked, she would’ve nailed him in the head.

  His eyes narrowed. Had she done that on purpose?

  “Glad you could grace me with your presence,” she said snottily.