Hold You Close (Seattle Sound Series Book 3)

by Alexa Padgett

  “So when she broke it off, I wasn’t just angry, which I was. Really angry.” I met Hayden’s light brown eyes. So different from Mila’s wild swirls of color. “I didn’t handle that well.”

  “Too right. Jake, Flip, and I, we got that. What we didn’t get was the escalation of the behavior.”

  “I didn’t, either,” I said, shame washing over me. “It just happened. Jake says I was hurt and I handled it with avoidance.”

  “The parade of women I can see as avoidance, but what about the desire to make the rest of us as shitty as you?”

  “I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I hoped some profound thought broke through, helping me understand my self-destruction. “I was—am—messed up.” I blew out a breath. Somehow, admitting my jumbled emotions helped. “You heard Mila had been pregnant?”

  Hayden dipped his head in acknowledgment.

  “I didn’t know before. She hadn’t told me. I found out after she miscarried, and I thought . . . I thought it was some other bloke’s bub.” I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “I would have a son if that bastard left her alone.”

  “Crikey.” Hayden dragged out the word, his eyes filling with sympathy.

  “’Bout sums it up.” I glanced down at my hands, white-knuckled and fisted. “I left her now at the hotel, angry with me for not trusting her more then.”

  “Seems like you’ve fumbled more than one dance.”

  The cat wandered over, wending its way between my legs. “I’m still in love with her.” I laughed, but it was humorless, and I choked it off just before the sound shifted toward a sob. “Not that my feelings do me much good. I’ve handled her, you, the fame, all of it, like a complete wanker.”

  “Not a surprise. You couldn’t have written ‘She’s So Bad’ if you weren’t so heart sore.”

  I bit my tongue against the snide comeback. That wouldn’t help. “I’m not asking you to forgive me for how I treated your relationship with Briar. I was wrong. Dead wrong. I just didn’t want you to end up like me, mate.”

  Hayden ran his finger over his upper lip. I dropped my fingers down into the cat’s long, silky fur.

  “I’m not sure I forgive you for what could have happened to Briar.”

  “I understand. I should never have involved myself. And I shouldn’t have tried to keep her from seeing you.”

  “True.”

  The cat put its paw on my knee. I moved my hands. A moment later, Princess jumped into my lap. Her purrs rumbled across my thighs and stomach.

  “You’re a loud bugger,” I crooned. Princess tipped her head and twitched her ears.

  “Princess doesn’t like a lot of people,” Hayden said.

  “Smart cat.”

  “I told Briar I’d listen. She wants us to work it out. She said you were hurt and she reckons Mila’s the reason.”

  “No, I was an arse because of me.”

  “Truth.”

  “But,” I sighed, “Mila really fucking hurt me, leaving as she did. I’d only sorted through my response to this a bit before seeing her at the Tractor Tavern.” I swallowed hard. “Seeing Jordan’s hands on her . . . Hayden, he broke her. Killed my nipper. I don’t know how to handle any of that.”

  Hayden cleared his throat. “Reckon you don’t. Not really. Just be there for her. If you want to be. Which I’m assuming you do since you’re with her now.”

  I nodded. I continued to pet the cat. She nuzzled into my chest.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to tour with you again, but I won’t slam the door shut on another Jackaroo album,” Hayden said. “At some later date.”

  The tension eased from my chest. “I can’t leave Mila now. Not until her stalker’s in prison.”

  “Understood. She’s one in a million, that lady. Don’t bugger your second chance. I won’t stick around to see if you survive it.”

  “I want to write her a new song. Problem is there’s so much I have to say. More important things.” I paused, testing a phrase in my head. They sounded terrible. I shook my head, unable to meet Hayden’s gaze. “I’m not sure I can. Write another song, I mean. I haven’t been able to finish anything halfway decent since I wrote ‘She’s So Bad.’”

  “I’ve wondered on that. We all have.” Hayden’s light brown brow pulled low over his nose. “You’re stuck in the hotel. Use the time to reflect. Consider what you want. The music might come now that you’ve admitted to your emotions.”

  “That’s easy. I want Mila in my life.” Hayden was my best mate. Or had been. And I needed someone to confide in. “I’m just not sure I’m good for her future.”

  “Make her see you are good.” Hayden leaned forward. “You fucked up. I did, too, but I managed to talk Briar into taking me back. I’m still in awe for her capacity to forgive. I was a dickhead all in my own right. Without any help from you.”

  Hayden stood, walked over to the fridge and pulled out two beers in tall bronze cans. A large dog panted a smile but there weren’t words anywhere on the can. Weird. He handed me one and then clinked my can with his.

  “This is different from your epic disappearing act on Briar.” I sighed. “Mila and I have serious baggage.”

  “So you work through it. You should, whether you get together again or not. You’re calmer and seem to be in a better mental space than you’ve been for the last year at least. You need her understanding. Forgiveness would be better. For what it’s worth, Briar forgave you.”

  “She’s one helluva sheila, your Briar.”

  “That she is.” His eyes met mine, his face set in serious lines that matched the tenor of his voice. “Don’t hurt her again or I’ll rip you apart.”

  I patted the cat one more time. “Understood.” I sipped my beer. “This is good.”

  “Mate of Bri’s makes it. He has that strange Northwestern thing about pets. Even named his brewery after his first dog.”

  “This the bugger?” I asked, pointing to the can.

  Hayden shrugged. “Don’t really care. Just like the beer.”

  I sipped again, hoping it would keep me from saying something stupid. The silence stretched. I squirmed under the cat. Hayden stretched out his arm no the back of the sofa and considered me over his beer. “When my mum died, I was angry and confused.”

  I held my can loosely in my hands. Good as it was, I wanted to get back to Mila. Worry didn’t come close to my current emotions. Hank, the bastard who wasn’t long for his job, wanted her. He was at the pool with her now. If the prick touched her, I would rip him apart. I managed to smooth out my scowl and pay attention. Hayden deserved that.

  “Hard not to be, mate,” I said.

  “You pushed all your feelings out into the world. Onto others. I did the opposite. Held it all in. It’s what I’m good at. Because of my dad . . . you know, him being so old when I came along, taught me to not make a fuss, not to be loud.”

  “I’m not sure either option’s healthy.”

  “Mine sure wasn’t. I’ve watched you implode same as I did, but that was after you exploded in those first weeks. Don’t think you’ve been any better off.”

  I waited. When Hayden started talking, it was important to let him finish. The bloke didn’t make idle conversation.

  “I think what we do, create music, is grounding. But the touring, the cycle of shows and fans and the disruption to any type of normalcy is what turns those coping mechanisms into vices.”

  “You mean why so many rock stars go too far.”

  “Something like that. I’ve been talking to Asher Smith. From the Supernaturals. He’s not as interested in touring as he used to be. He’s got his boy to consider. And now that Briar and I are together, I want time with her. Time to let her finish her degree and to spend in our pajamas on a Sunday morning. Normal time.”

  Something Hayden never experienced in his life. His dad sat him at the piano at age three, and he was touring by ten.

  “Right. So take your time. A year won’t kill us.” I hoped not. All of us were set financial
ly until we found our next passion.

  “Actually, it’s more than that. There’s a collective of musicians that have started a community here. It’s not the same as traveling around the world but YouTube still lets you connect with them for a lot cheaper than the price of a stadium ticket.”

  Hayden stood and the cat jumped from my lap to run into the kitchen, tail straight up.

  “Expecting your salmon, Princess? Right, girl.” Hayden pulled a large platter out of the fridge. I shook my head and he just smirked. “Keeps her happy. Anyway, there’s a get together a week from Thursday at the Showbox with some of the collective. You should come and get the vibe of what we’re doing, how we plan to change the endless tour cycle without giving up the music we love so much. We can add a few Jackaroo tunes.”

  I pressed my lips together, trying hard to hold together my emotions. Hayden offered an olive branch I didn’t deserve. I stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, hard hug. “Thanks, mate. I’ll try. Not sure if Mila will be able to come, and I hate the idea of leaving her alone at the hotel.”

  Hayden slapped my back once. “I’m glad you ran into Mila again, though I don’t like the circumstances around your reunion. You’re acting more like my best mate again. I’ve missed him.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” I pressed my lips together in a firm line, unwilling to let my chin tremble. I cleared my throat twice. Hard. “Thanks, Hayden. Really.”

  After he plated up the raw salmon, the cat’s purrs hit a new level of loud. Holy Christ. Hayden put the fish back in the fridge and washed his hands. I set my beer on the counter, assuming our meeting was done. Towel in hand, Hayden cocked his head. “You want to see my new Taylor?”

  Surprise burst through me. “You got a guitar?”

  Hayden grinned. “I had to. I’ve been jamming a lot with Asher and the piano’s too big.”

  “Love to, mate. I haven’t opened mine in a couple of days.”

  “Let’s work on that tune of yours. Got an idea of what you want to say?”

  “Matter of fact, I do,” I said. “I brought my notebook to scribble notes in the car. It’s not much.”

  “Never is when you start.”

  We’d invited Kevin in for another premade mocha, which he drank with relish. Poor bloke, he’d told me he’d grown up in a small town in Missouri, and he obviously didn’t know good coffee.

  Not only had Hayden and I worked through some of our shit, we’d played music together. I’d missed that time, those sessions. Best part was the backbone of the song was Mila.

  The chorus lyrics came together with ease. Just like they used to. We’d found a good rhythm to fit the lyrics I wanted and messed around with chords. This tune was soft but still edgy because that’s what Mila and I were together.

  After another hour, I decided Hayden was well rid of me.

  “I better get back.”

  “Worried about your girl?”

  “Never stop.” I sighed.

  Hayden picked up his cat, tickling her under her chin. “I get that. Just gets worse the deeper you fall, mate.”

  I nodded. “Been there. Know it well.” Mila had the power to destroy me, and I’d already hiked well down the path of self-destruction. A problem for another day, perhaps. “Thanks for this.”

  Hayden smiled. “We’ll get that song worked out. Be sure to let me know when you’ll be at the Showbox.”

  “Right.” I rubbed my hand down the back of my neck, trying to shove down my nerves. But honesty was important—and Hayden deserved the truth from me. “One more thing. The big wigs asked me to do a charity show later this week. To iron out my shit-tastic image, no doubt. I’m not expecting you to come, but it’s for battered kids. Means more to me now than it did before, even.” Hayden knew of my mum’s abuse, how Jake and I lost a brother much too soon. “I’m going to talk to Jake and Flip, see if they want to perform.”

  Hayden considered me. He ran his forefinger down his nose, never a good sign. “Thanks for the information. Send me more details. I’ll see what Briar thinks.”

  Fair enough. I sprang that news poorly. “Right. Well, I’ll talk to Jake. He’d probably like the time to jam. If it’s okay to tell him about your Showbox gigs?”

  “I’m always happy to play with Jake.”

  “C’mon, Kevin. Let’s get out of here while Hayden’s still speaking to me.”

  They both laughed, but I wasn’t kidding. Hayden slapped my back and opened the door. “The charity concert is more like what we’re thinking. With the collective, I mean. Be sure to send the information.”

  I nodded. I turned, shook his hand, and left.

  “Go okay?” Kevin asked as we walked down the hall to the elevator.

  “Better than I anticipated.”

  “Good news, then.”

  “Am I a bastard?” I blurted out once we entered the elevator. Kevin took his time, studying me. Sweat pooled on my upper lip and the base of my spine. For some reason, his response mattered to me.

  “No,” he said. “You’re a man who’s made mistakes. Much like all of us, I expect. But you seem to want to fix them.”

  I blew out my pent-up breath. “True enough.”

  We were quiet as the elevator car slid down the last few floors. Kevin was thorough, not letting me cross the lot until he’d checked all the corners, under the car and in the boot. A man I could count on.

  “Do you plan to stay in this business long term?” I asked.

  Kevin shrugged. “If the right job came along, sure. I’d planned to go back to my government work, but one, I’m still healing from my most recent tussle with the bad guys, and two, my wife gave me an ultimatum: either I find a career that doesn’t try to kill me every day, or she walks along with my thirteen-year-old daughter.”

  “Tough break there.” We walked through the lot. Kevin pressed the key fob to unlock the doors.

  “No, more of a reality check. I considered what was most important, and my family won.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He started the ignition before he turned to appraise me again. Much as I wanted to squirm under his appraisal, I didn’t. I met his gaze and waited.

  “I’m staying here, in Seattle. So I can be around while my daughter grows up.”

  I nodded, absorbing the information. Kevin put his family first, the exact opposite of what I’d done when Mila walked away from me. In fact, I’d been acting like a toddler who’d lost his favorite toy since that moment, having an extended tantrum.

  Time to man up. Not just to my feelings for her but to my responsibilities—and the ones I wanted. Taking care of my mum, Jake, and Mila were priority one. Telling Mila I still loved her might not get the response I wanted, but she deserved to know I wanted her in my life. She needed to know that’s where I’d always wanted us to end up.

  Kevin called ahead, letting the guards in the lobby know we were almost back to the hotel. He pulled into the garage still waiting to hear from them. The next second our windshield shattered.

  “Stay down.” Kevin shoved me farther into the seat as another bullet slammed into the windshield. “We’re under fire. Basement level one,” he said, voice calm as he spoke into his phone. I didn’t know who he was talking to, and I really didn’t care. My only concern was getting to Mila.

  Cradling it against his shoulder, he slammed on the gas and sped forward. No way he could see. He dropped the phone on the console, pulled out his gun and twisted the wheel hard. With his other hand, he pulled off three or four rounds in rapid succession, the bullets shattering through what was left of the glass in the window. The entire car shook, the concussion from the gun echoed with a teeth-rattling boom.

  Kevin slammed on the brakes, peering through a tiny clear space in the glass.

  “Shouldn’t we get out?” I yelled over the ringing in my ears. Bloody hell, Kevin’s shots from inside the car caused my ears to nearly bleed. If Jordan had gotten to Mila . . . my hand was on the door handle.

  “He’
ll pick you off much faster from outside the car. Gas tank’s in back, protected by the cars behind us. We’re safer here.” Kevin picked up his phone. “He’s moved to the northeast corner of the garage. Murphy’s safe. Any word on Mila?”

  “We have one down in the pool area.”

  I didn’t wait for more than that. I bolted from the car, darting between the vehicles toward the stairwell.

  One down. What did that mean? Mila. I wasn’t losing her. Not again. Bullets pinged off the cars, glass shattered right in front of me. Kevin bellowed. I kept running.

  19

  Mila

  Stepping out of my bedroom fifteen minutes after I’d bolted from Murphy, I stopped short, shocked to see Lew and Hank lounging on the couches, watching something on the large flat screen television.

  “Where’s Murphy?” I asked.

  “Out. We’ll take you down to the pool.” Hank held out his hand and took my bag.

  Okay, then. I rode the elevator down between the two burly men in suits, wishing I hadn’t made such a big deal about swimming. I didn’t want to go any more. I waited to enter the pool area with Lew, who stood nearby.

  Hank motioned us in, and Lew followed me. After arranging my bag and towel, I took out my goggles and slid them on. I stripped out of my cover up, painfully aware of Hank’s eyes on my skin outside the sleek black one-piece made for surfing or swimming laps. Since the accident, I exposed as little of myself as possible.

  Diving into the pool, I wished the water here was more like the ocean where I could hide in the waves and churning surf. Two more turns and I was in my zone, my arms starting to burn with that delicious tiring of well-used muscles. Another few laps; this time I turned and flipped onto my back.

  Something rippled near me in the water. Too big to be a bug. Another ripple on the other side, closer this time. I could feel the heat coming off it.

  What in the world . . . I stopped mid-stroke as a disturbance caught my eye. I stopped swimming, popping upward to tread water. Lew held his gun out, eyes focused on the closing door to the pool area. Hank sat on one of the loungers, his gun still holstered, his skin chalky even through my goggles. He hunched over, his bum barely on the seat. Lew strode back and forth in front of him, talking on the phone.