Billionaires Runaway Bride

by Claire Adams

  Unfortunately, the song they began to play had always been one of those that got to me. The way Owen sang it was soul wrenching and, at that moment, it was stabbing at my heart more than usual. His voice worked its way through what felt like every vein in my body, filling every hurting corner of my soul. When his eyes met mine, I was forced to look away from him, afraid that I would burst into tears at any moment. He owned that stage just like he owned my heart without even trying. Damn him.

  I somehow made it through the rest of the set without losing it. When they were done, I watched as Owen stalked off the stage without another glance in my direction. It shouldn’t have bothered me. After all, that was how I had planned for it to be. I just hadn’t accounted for how much it would hurt to know that I was done with him.

  Talon walked my way as I stood to go, blocking my path. “You’ve got to talk to him.”

  I rubbed my arms with my hands, warding off the coolness I felt. “What?”

  “This...this whatever you had with my brother, I don't know how you want to classify it, but whatever it was, you have to talk to him about it. He’s being a total dick to everyone, and I, for one, can’t take it anymore. I mean, look at the shit that's just happened!”

  “That’s not my fault,” I shot back, aware of the anger glowing in his stare. I wasn’t about to tell him that his brother was a total douche. He probably already knew.

  Talon took a step toward me, his fists clenched at his sides. “Yes, this is your fault, Nalia. God, you really are totally blind to how he feels about you, to how much he cares about you, aren’t you? The man has been sleeping by himself for the last month, right down the hall. And when he’s not sleeping, he’s in a mood that, frankly, I’m sick and tired of. So, quit dicking him around and wrap this, whatever it is, up with him. Sort it out, and stop avoiding the damn issue.”

  Hurt and angry, I pushed away from him. “Do you have any idea what he did? This is not my fault! Quit sticking up for him! If he cared about me at all, he wouldn’t have…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  Talon looked at me for a moment, recognition dawning on his face. “Shit. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Tears blurred my eyes, and I stepped around him, not wanting him to see me cry. Yes, I was in love with a man I couldn’t trust, a man I couldn’t have. I was so done with this entire business, with every one of these assholes! I couldn’t take another minute of dealing with it all. They could pull another woman out of the crowd tonight to be their assistant, because I was through.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Owen

  I cracked my knuckles and flexed my hands — anxious, angry, and nervous all at the same time. My hands were aching from my stupid ass altercation with Talon earlier in the day. They hurt to the point where I’d had to soak them in hot salt water to relieve some of the pain. Now, the pain and the aches were coming back, but I fixated on it to keep my mind off of what was about to happen.

  From my vantage point, I could see the packed stadium and hear the roar of the crowd as they waited anxiously to watch us perform. While the scene normally jacked me up and got my motor revving, tonight it put me on edge and stirred a building force of anxiety within me. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

  Behind me, the stage was a buzz of activity, the guys running through their last-minute checks or warming up their voices before we would be stretched thin for an hour or two. I wished I could just find a quiet place and think for a moment; my thoughts were still dwelling on how Nalia had marched in and taken control of the situation earlier today.

  It was the most she had spoken to me in over a month. Seeing her hadn’t brought on the reaction I had expected. My heart had fucking ached like an invisible knife had been stabbed into it repeatedly the entire time I was near her. And even though she had been pissed at the time, I had wanted nothing more than to drag her off stage and kiss her senseless in a corner somewhere until she started talking to me again.

  I didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and she was refusing to talk to me, so she wasn’t telling me anything. It was maddening, and it had been tearing me apart from the inside for more than a month now. My whole world had been stuck in a crazy cycle of irritation, anger, frustration, uncertainty, and hopelessness the entire time. And even though I was always able to push it out of my mind for the few moments that I was on stage, the rest of the time there was no way to escape the awful feelings that swirled through me.

  Did I mention it was maddening? But at least I had the stage. At least I had some form of escape for a little while.

  The lights dimmed, and I took in a deep breath, preparing for the performance. The screaming from the dark amphitheater grew louder. Typically, I enjoyed this moment. It was usually like the moments just before the roller coaster dips into a one hundred foot drop. That moment where you know the rush is coming and you can’t wait for it to begin.

  Tonight, I couldn’t totally say I was amped up to do this. In fact, I was just looking forward to the moment where I walked off stage, when it was all over. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to walk on stage; I just really wasn't in the mood. And that scared me.

  “Ready?” Talon asked, slapping me on the back as he stepped up next to me. Though we hadn’t officially put our differences aside, we were brothers, and brothers fought from time to time. It wasn’t the first drag down we’d had, and I doubted it would be the last.

  “Ready,” I lied.

  He shot me a grin and walked out from behind the curtain, followed by the rest of the guys. I caught a glimpse of the cut on his forehead as he turned to smile at me. It had been cleaned up, but it was still noticeable, and I immediately felt like the ass I knew I was. A pang of guilt shot through me. I had been a total asshat for taking all of my pent up frustrations out on him.

  I’d been an even bigger dick for not having had the decency to properly apologize for it. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. We had to a show to play at the moment, whether I was ready to step on stage or not.

  I shook the tension from my arms, rotating my neck a few times to loosen some of the tightness there. It was show time. I activated my mic and ran out onto the stage, the crowd screaming in a frenzy, the lights of their cell phones and cameras flashing left and right.

  “What’s up, Florida?” I yelled as the guys launched into the song we always opened with. “Are you ready to do this? Are you ready to rock?” It was my typical concert opening line, so I tried to sell it even though I knew it fell a little short of my usual enthusiasm.

  They screamed back, and I grinned, sliding my gaze to the wing where I knew Nalia liked to stand even though she was avoiding me. It was like she knew I couldn’t just run off stage and force her to talk to me. But she wasn’t there. The spot was empty. Intense disappointment washed over me with its bone-chilling certainty, and even the roar of the crowd couldn't do anything to lift my spirits when I saw the empty spot.

  Nearly missing my cue, I caught it just in time and started to sing, the weight of her absence as heavy as a rusty anchor dragging itself across the sea floor. Where the hell was she? She couldn’t possibly be so mad at me that she wasn’t going to support the rest of the guys. The thought that she might have left scared me shitless.

  I tried to focus on the songs, but I was on autopilot; my thoughts kept swirling around the fact that she still hadn’t shown up to keep an eye on things from the sidelines. She couldn’t have just up and left. We hadn’t even discussed whatever it was that had happened between us.

  Somehow, I made it through the songs without screwing any of them up. It certainly helped that the crowd was one of the better ones we had performed in front of in a while. For that, at least, I was grateful. As I started into the last song, I focused only on the top deck, hoping Nalia was listening somewhere, hoping she was somewhere that she could hear the words and the way I sang the ballad.

  Earlier, she had been a distraction when I practiced it, but this evening
all I could think about was her—wishing she was sitting there listening once more. I had hoped she was going to be my saving grace. But she wasn’t there.

  “Encore! Encore!” the crowd screamed as I finished the final notes of the last song, knowing that our set was complete. I gave them a smile and a wave of my hand and walked off stage, just like we always did, so that we could catch a breather before launching into two more songs.

  “God, those people are amazing tonight! They've really got me all revved up!” Talon announced. “I totally feel like I could play another full set right now!” he remarked as he grabbed the towels we had placed backstage, or rather that Nalia had placed there for us. The thought of her had me scanning the wings again, looking for her face, even if it was an angry one. I just needed to see her.

  When I didn’t find her amongst the sea of faces, I grabbed a stagehand who was walking past. “Hey, have you seen Nalia around?”

  He looked at me a little confused, like I should have known something I clearly didn’t. “Dude, she left right after you guys went on stage.”

  I let go of his arm. “Thanks,” I said as all of the fight left me. I couldn’t go back out there and pretend that everything was okay when my world was on its side. “I’m done,” I announced to surprised looks from the rest of the guys and the staff close by. “No encores tonight.”

  “But, it’s our next-to-last show for this tour,” Talon said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t we do an encore?”

  “Because I just don’t fucking feel like it,” I growled, yanking my mic off and walking away, not caring what they thought. “Fuck the encores. You guys can go out there and jam an instrumental if you want, but I'm done. I can’t do this tonight.”

  I needed to find Nalia.

  The private car ride to the hotel was excruciating. I checked my cell phone a dozen times; each time ended with my thumb hovering over the button that would dial her number. I was afraid I wouldn’t get her or that I would get her and not know what to say. What would I say? This was a serious Catch 22 moment. Any blind man could see there was something wrong between us, something much more than just her not wanting to see me anymore.

  As I rode, I fantasized that she just wanted to surprise me back at the hotel, to make up for whatever had been going on for the past month. But deep down, I knew that couldn't be the case. I wished it were; it would have been beyond amazing if it were. But I knew in my heart that it couldn't be. Still, the thought raised a flare of hope just fantasizing about the possibility. I prayed it was true, needed to hope that it was true. But I knew better.

  The car pulled up to the front door, and I hopped out. For the first time in my career, I walked in, ignoring the fans gathered there as I made my way inside. Nalia was the only thing on my mind. I hurried upstairs and pushed open my hotel room, still half expecting to find her standing there, that small smile on her face. Instead, I found an empty room, no different than I had left it. Dammit.

  With a heavy sigh, I walked over to the bed and plopped down. The flashing indicator on the phone caught my eye. A message. There were never messages in the hotel. A funny feeling attacked my stomach as I picked up the phone and pressed the button. The moment I heard Nalia’s sweet voice filling my ear, I wasn’t sure if I should smile or throw up.

  “Owen,” she began, her voice not breathless like I had heard it in the past when she said my name, “by the time you hear this, I will have already headed for home. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for this and, obviously, my presence is causing more of a distraction than a help, so I think it’s best that I go now. I want to thank you for the opportunity again.” She paused, and I felt a glimmer of hope, hoping that she would say something about us and not this business-like response she was giving me.

  “I hope you can find a replacement quickly for the next leg of the tour. I’m sorry. I was looking for something on the road, and I… Well, I didn’t find it. Goodbye, Owen.”

  The line went silent, and I stood there, totally unable to believe what she had just done. She had fucking left. And, left me with nothing more than a cold voicemail and no explanation of why she had done this. I didn’t buy her story, not even a little bit. She was beyond cut out for this. She was a natural.

  I threw the phone down, causing the rest of the receiver to fall to the floor as I sank back onto the bed, my head in my hands and my heart twisting painfully in my chest. She had left me. The woman that I had come to realize was meant to be mine, the woman I had looked all my life for, was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Nalia

  I headed toward the kitchen, following the trail of the aroma of percolating coffee until it completely filled the air. After a long flight and a layover from hell, I had finally arrived sometime after five in the morning. Falling into my own bed was indescribable, but I only had a few hours of sleep before my dreams had morphed into nightmares. And since then, I had barely slept, tossing and turning. I finally realized there would be no way to get any more rest, so I stopped trying.

  I knew it had been crazy for me to leave like I had, but at least that way I had avoided any painful goodbyes and awkward conversations. I was done with the tour and the road. It had been a nice fantasy to entertain, but the reality of it had turned out to be something more than I was able to deal with.

  Grace stood in front of the sink as I approached, already dressed in her running attire for her early morning jog.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  She all but screamed and whirled around, her eyes widening when she saw it was me. “Geez, Nalia! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What on earth are you doing here?”

  “I’m home,” I said, reaching for a mug from the overhead cabinet. “It’s all over with.”

  Grace’s arms went around me and hugged me tightly. “I thought you still had another week before you would be home. I mean, Bleeding Heart's tour isn't finished yet, right? What happened out there on the road?”

  I shrugged as she released me, reaching for the pot of liquid courage—something I would need a great deal of in the weeks to come, I imagined.

  “I just... I guess I just needed to be home. I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore.”

  She laughed and grabbed my arm lightly, rolling her eyes. “I know that's a load of crap, Nay. Sorry, but I know you way better than that. Hell, I can see it written all over your face. What did he do, and how involved were you?”

  “Is it really that obvious?”

  She nodded. “Uh, yeah. It is. You know how well I know you. I can tell from a mile away. No offence, Nalia, but you're easier to read than a Doctor Seuss book.”

  As bad as I felt, I couldn't help chuckling a little at her comparison.

  “Wow, I didn’t think I was so transparent,” I said, setting my mug down and leaning against the cabinet, the hurt from leaving Owen and the jetlag catching up with me quickly after the mild amusement from the joke disappeared.

  “Well, maybe not to everyone, but you are to me,” she replied gently. “So, tell me what happened out there?”

  I sighed and shook my head as I replied. “I screwed up...big time.”

  “Did you screw up, or did you screw him up?”

  “I screwed up. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe both. I did exactly what you don’t do on the road with famous rock musicians.”

  She reached across and placed a gentle, soothing hand on my forearm. There were tears beginning to threaten her eyes. The concern of a lifelong best friend who was really more like a sister began to show through. She ached for me, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

  “You fell in love with him, didn't you, Nay?”

  I nodded, unable to say a word through the sickening sensation welling up inside my chest as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

  “Oh, honey,” Grace replied softly, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I’m so sorry. Did he tell you to leave? Is that what happened?”

  Surprised at the tears
coursing rapidly down my cheeks, I shook my head. “No, I left because I couldn’t take being around him another day. He’s been sleeping with other women the whole time. We never said we were exclusive, but he led me to believe I was the only one. I should have known he was too good to be true! I should have known! I'm such an idiot! I can't believe I fell for him. I really can't believe it.”

  “Shit, did you catch him in the act?” she asked, pulling back to look at me. I reached into my pocket of my pajama pants where my cell phone was and quickly found the picture that I had saved on my phone. I didn’t know why I had saved it, but it was there, serving as a constant reminder of what had happened, what Owen had done.

  She took the phone and looked at it, glancing back up at me, confusion written plainly across her face. “This is why you left?”

  I nodded. “Of course, she’s all over him,” I replied miserably. “She’s kissing him, Grace. And, that's just one girl out of how many? You should have seen them—women everywhere, just swarming over him, with their tits bared and their asses out, begging him to touch them. Those guys are just drowning in hot, available women, they really are. So how many other times has he done this? How many times did he do this without getting caught?” I motioned back to the picture on the phone again.

  Grace looked at the photo a moment longer before handing back to me. “I don’t know, Nalia. Usually, I've got your back. But if this is all you have to go on, sweetie, I think you might be wrong on this one. He looks like he was caught off guard. See? His hands aren’t even touching her. It looks like she's the only one who's enjoying this kiss. It doesn't look like he's into it at all. In fact, it looks like he's trying to get himself away from her.”

  I looked closely at the photo, but I was still unable to see what Grace seemed to be seeing. Instead, what I saw was betrayal. What I saw was a man that had let me believe he was different than most men in his position. What I saw was a man I couldn’t trust.