Heartbeat

by Belinda Williams

  He flushed, looking uncomfortable. “Is that what Johnnie told you?”

  “What do you think?”

  “He’s always trying to set me up,” he said.

  I thanked the bartender and sipped my drink, the sparkling liquid tingling as it went down. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “If it was the right woman, yeah, but tell me you think any of those girls is the right woman.”

  I twisted on the stool and observed the party. ‘Those girls’ were a dizzying array of pretty young things wearing very little clothing.

  “I’m sure you could take your pick.”

  Levi grimaced. “I’m not Johnnie.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Maybe.”

  For the first time since I’d joined him I looked at Levi properly. His elbows rested on the glass countertop and a half-drunk beer sat in front of him. It was the absence of the usual twinkle in his eye that struck me.

  I put a hand on his arm. “Is everything OK?”

  Levi went stiff. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem . . . not yourself.”

  Levi’s light blue eyes met mine. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

  Gosh, what was with him tonight? I’d never seen him like this. Levi was usually the happy-go-lucky, get-along-with-everyone guy. Something must be seriously wrong to make him feel this way.

  “I noticed. Anything you want to talk about?” Maybe there was a woman his band members didn’t know about and having all these groupies here was making him feel worse.

  “So there’s this girl,” he said.

  Bingo. I hoped whoever it was hadn’t broken his heart. Levi was such a decent guy.

  “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” I told him.

  “I don’t.” He stared sullenly into his glass. “She doesn’t know I’m alive.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Seriously, Levi was the lead guitarist of one of the biggest rock bands in the world. The woman would have to be blind not to notice him.

  He shrugged. “She’s taken.”

  Oh wow. Poor guy. I struggled for the right words and settled on being honest. “That really sucks. I’m sorry. You and Emilio are both having a tough time right now.”

  Levi’s eyes widened. “What’s Emilio got to do with anything?”

  “He’s still got feelings for his ex?” Oh crap. Surely that was public knowledge within the band and I hadn’t just put my foot in it again.

  Levi gave an uncharacteristic sneer. “This is nothing like Emilio.”

  “OK.” I took another sip of my champagne and looked around for Gabe. I hoped he got here soon because this was getting awkward.

  “Want to know why?” Levi said.

  “I’m sorry?” I’d been so distracted searching for Gabe that I’d missed his question.

  “Why this is nothing like Emilio. This girl is the sort of girl you fight for,” Levi said. “Emilio let his partner go. I’d never do that.”

  It didn’t surprise me Levi was the loyal type. It was such a shame the girl he liked wasn’t available.

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I assured him. “But perhaps she’s not right for you. Perhaps—”

  “No!” Levi shoved his beer away and some of it sloshed onto the counter.

  The bartender and I shared a look. Levi had obviously had one too many tonight.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He held his head in his hands. “But you do. You do upset me, Chloe. So much.”

  I stared at him. “I’m sorry, Levi,” I said again. I had no idea what I’d done, but given his current mood, apologizing seemed like the best thing to do. I pushed the stool away with my legs and stood up. “I’d better go—”

  “No!” His arm shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Stay, Chloe. Please stay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just . . . sad right now.”

  I cast a glance over my shoulder. Still no Gabe. Viktor caught my eye instead. He was standing against the wall several feet away and he raised an eyebrow at me.

  I mouthed ‘OK’ and reluctantly sat down again.

  “That’s rough, Levi, real rough. Is there anything I can do?”

  He was still gripping my wrist. “Tell me why.”

  I looked at his hand and wondered if I could pull my arm away without upsetting him. “Why? I wish I could, but life isn’t always fair.”

  I bit back a yelp of surprise as his fingers dug into me.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice so quiet I could barely hear him above the noise of the party. “Even now you don’t see it.”

  I stood up again and attempted to wrench my arm from his grip, but he held me fast. “OK, Levi, you’re upsetting me. Please let me go and I’ll go and get Gabe to come and see if you’re alright.”

  “No!” He let me go and his fist slammed down on the counter making me jolt. “Why him, Chloe? Why Gabe?”

  I backed away, not fully understanding what I was hearing, but his tortured expression told me more than I wanted to know.

  “Levi, you’re not making sense. I’ll get Gabe—”

  “Fuck, Gabe! Fuck you! You hear me? Fuck you, Chloe Kemp, you clueless bitch! It’s you. It’s always been you.”

  There were gasps and cries of surprise from around us, but nothing came out of my mouth. I wanted to back away further, but I couldn’t move because my head was too busy spinning.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” said Levi. He eased himself up from the stool slowly, as if he was worried I would flee like a frightened animal, but I was frozen to the spot, disbelief coursing through my veins.

  “Do you see it now, Chloe?” He put a hand to his chest. “Do you see me?”

  I felt dizzy. It couldn’t be, but even in my fear I understood. “No,” I said again, louder this time.

  “Yes.” Levi crept toward me. “I’d fight for you. I’d do anything for you, Chloe. Don’t you see? I love you.”

  I covered my mouth, nausea rising in my throat. I shook my head, and kept shaking it, because I didn’t want this to be real and because everything was wrong, so very wrong.

  Levi held out a hand. “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I’ve been watching you and—”

  “No!”

  It was his last words that got through to me. I jumped forward and shoved Levi so hard the force of it sent me flying backward so that I hit the solid chest of guy standing behind me. As I fell, he caught me in his arms.

  “Please get him away from me!” I cried. “He’s been stalking me!”

  Chapter 41

  Viktor was by my side within seconds, scooping me out of the stranger’s arms.

  “No,” Levi yelled, scrambling up. “Don’t touch her! She’s mine!”

  “You son of a bitch.” Gabe’s fist came out of nowhere and connected with Levi’s jaw with a sickening thwack.

  It was like watching slow motion in the editing suite as Levi’s head snapped back, bright red blood spurting from his nose and his fair hair fanning out behind him as he fell.

  Then everything sped up. Gabe didn’t even give him a chance to get up. He was on top of his bandmate, his fists pummeling his face, his chest, anywhere he could make contact.

  I cowered in Viktor’s arms as Gabe kept hitting Levi over and over, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones and the thud of muscle.

  “You fucking bastard,” Gabe growled between hits. “I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you for this.” His chest heaved up and down with the effort of the punches he kept throwing.

  “That’s enough.”

  Marc stepped in and pulled Gabe off Levi in one swift move. Gabe turned on Marc and raised his fist to deliver another blow but Marc blocked it effortlessly.

  “Save it.” His dark eyes challenged Gabe. “Trust me. You’ll want to save it.”

  Gabe raised his palms and took a step back, pushing a hand through the hair falling over his
eyes. A red streak appeared in his brown hair. Still breathing heavily, he took another step back and crouched down on the spot, hanging his head in defeat.

  “What the hell?” Johnnie dived through the crowd and skidded to a halt when he saw the scene before him. “Jesus Christ. What the fuck, man?”

  He rushed to Levi’s side and kneeled down next to him.

  Levi’s face was barely recognizable. Blood gushed from what appeared to be a broken nose and red marks covered his white T-shirt like someone’s sick idea of modern art.

  Johnnie reeled back on his heels. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  He jumped up and rounded on Gabe. “Explain this to me before I do the same to you, you asshole.”

  Gabe didn’t look up. He was still crouching down, balancing on the spot, staring at the floor. He raised an arm and pointed at me.

  I found my voice. “It was Levi,” I sobbed, which was when I realized I was crying. “Levi’s been stalking me.”

  Johnnie stumbled back like he’d been hit and Emilio appeared out of the crowd and steadied him.

  Emilio’s steady gaze met mine. “He took those photos?”

  “Yes! He didn’t say it, but he’s in love with me. He’s been watching me.” I sobbed again and buried my face in Viktor’s side, the scene before me too horrifying to comprehend.

  Emilio stepped past Johnnie and knelt beside Levi. “Was it you?”

  Levi coughed up some blood, unable to answer.

  Emilio leaned in closer. “Answer the question, Levi.”

  Everyone waited in silence for Levi to speak. Eventually he opened his mouth and rasped something.

  “What?” Emilio said.

  “Yes!” Levi’s voice rang clear.

  Some of the women gasped and even stepped back. I held tight to Viktor.

  A muscle in Emilio’s jaw twitched. “You took that photo of Damon and me?”

  Levi closed his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered.

  “You released it to the press?”

  A coughing attack overtook Levi and he held his ribs, pain twisting his face into an ugly mask. Gabe had probably broken his ribs.

  Emilio waited patiently for Levi to catch his breath. Levi’s blue eyes flashed with pain as they met Emilio’s, and he nodded once.

  Emilio frowned in disgust and stood up. “You’re lucky I don’t finish the job.” He turned and pushed through the crowd of people and disappeared.

  Gabe hadn’t moved and Johnnie was so pale the tattoos on his arms were more vibrant than usual.

  Johnnie shook his head. “Why, man? Why?”

  Levi didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure he could. He was so hurt from Gabe’s brutal beating that breathing was an effort.

  Johnnie held his head like it hurt. “We had everything! Everything, Levi! Why’d you have to go and ruin it?”

  “Not everything,” Levi said hoarsely. “Not her.”

  Gabe sprung up and lunged for Levi again, but Marc leapt between them and caught Gabe.

  “I’ve heard enough,” Marc said while holding onto Gabe, who struggled in his grip. Marc nodded at several of the bodyguards. “Clear the room and call an ambulance. The police as well.”

  “No.” Levi tried to sit up and more blood dripped and soaked into his T-shirt like scarlet tears. “Chloe, listen to me. You’re too good for him.”

  I was going into shock. My breathing was rapid, I couldn’t seem to get enough air, and I was shaking in Viktor’s arms.

  Gabe snarled but Marc held him back.

  “Listen to me, Chloe,” Levi croaked. “He was nothing when I found him. Nothing, do you hear me?”

  “Shut up!” Gabe yelled.

  Levi ignored him. “He was washing dishes and cleaning toilets to make ends meet before he joined the band.” Levi paused for a breath and I saw Marc tighten his grip on Gabe as he tried to wrench free.

  “He went from foster home to foster home as a kid. Stole shit, did drugs. He’s done time, Chloe. The guy you’re in love with is an ex-con.”

  Gabe’s guttural cry distracted Marc long enough for Gabe to bury an elbow in his stomach and Marc let go. Gabe dived for Levi.

  “Stop! Just stop!” My voice echoed around the room full of stunned guests.

  Gabe froze and then brought his fists up beside his head, clenching them so hard they turned white.

  Levi collapsed back onto the ground. “Gabriel da Silva isn’t even his real name.” He closed his eyes, his breathing weak.

  Gabe dropped his hands to his sides and stared hard at his feet.

  “Gabe?” I sounded like a little girl, not a young woman.

  Gabe didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge that I’d spoken. Johnnie was staring at Gabe like he’d never seen him before.

  “Gabe?” I said louder this time. “But you have a mom. You told me about her. She’s a nurse.”

  Silence stretched for the longest time.

  “Answer her, dammit.” This was Johnnie.

  “I told you about one of my foster moms.” He didn’t look at me.

  A ripple of surprise murmured through the crowd of onlookers.

  “OK, so she was your foster mom,” I reasoned, grasping for a thread of truth. Anything to prove that the Gabe I knew and this Gabe standing in front of me were the same man. “She gave you a drum kit for your eleventh birthday. She thought it would help give you something to focus on when you were struggling at school.”

  “I stole a set of drums when I was fourteen. I told my foster mom I’d earned the money to buy them washing cars over summer break.”

  The murmuring intensified. Gabe still wasn’t looking at me.

  “Was any of it true?”

  More silence. Gabe eventually cleared his throat. “I’m dyslexic, but I could barely read and write until I was nineteen. That girl I told you about taught me.”

  The woman who had given up on him.

  “What’s your real name?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  He finally met my eyes. “Gabriel Sloane.”

  Chapter 42

  I didn’t protest when Mama flew to Paris to be with me, Damon in tow. Somehow I still had to finish filming, and if it wasn’t for my family I’m not sure I would have been able to get up each day.

  Mama didn’t fuss like she usually did. She waited quietly while I ate the food she put in front of me and didn’t say a word about anything that had happened. She was just there helping me whenever I needed, which was quite often. Most mornings I couldn’t even get out of bed without some encouragement.

  It seemed like every time I tried to think clearly and do the little things, whether that was getting dressed or eating, I discovered I had no ability think straight. All I saw, kept seeing, were Gabe’s fists and Levi’s bloody face and hearing the same words over and over.

  Don’t you see me, Chloe?

  I made them up.

  Gabriel Sloane.

  I certainly hadn’t seen Levi for what he was, but even worse, I hadn’t seen Gabe either. I’d trusted him, even when Viktor had tried to tell me Gabe might be hiding something from me about his past. I’d chosen to be innocent and trusting, instead of smart.

  A week after the party, Mama sat me down after a long day of filming and handed me a steaming cup of tea. Damon was reclined on the sofa nearby, strumming his guitar softly.

  Mama put a business card on my lap. “This woman is coming to see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  I ran my finger over the name on the card. Caroline Goldman, Clinical Psychologist.

  Mama leaned forward in her chair. “I’ve been doing my best not to fuss and support you the way you need, but I’m going to push you on this. You need to speak to someone.”

  “OK.”

  Mama sat back. “Really?”

  “Yes. I need to speak to someone.”

  Mama released a breath. “Thank God. She comes highly recommended by my therapist.”

  “Wait. You have a therapist?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I need
ed to speak to someone after you moved out.” She held up a hand. “Not because of you, because of me. You did the right thing. I was the one who needed help.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Mama shifted sofas and sat next to me, putting her arm around me. “I wish the circumstances were different, but I’m glad, too.”

  “Me too.” Damon glanced up briefly between chords.

  It was so good to have him here. Since arriving in Paris, he’d seemed calmer, more like himself in ways I hadn’t seen in years. The quick humor, his creative flair and caring nature were no longer obscured by the brooding, sullen young man I’d been forced to accept in recent months. If his drug overdose had terrified us, it had transformed him. I hadn’t pushed him to talk about it because I figured he would do so when he was ready, but the relief I sensed in him was palpable. Like he finally knew what it was to be alive and he was grateful for it. I held fast to the hope that from now on he would live his life the way he wanted to.

  “What’s that one you’re playing?” I asked.

  “Just one Gabe and I . . . Shit. Sorry.”

  “It’s OK.” It wasn’t, but I’d have to get used to talking about Gabe sometime.

  “He still hasn’t contacted you?” Damon asked me, concentrating on the strings.

  “No.” The night of the party I’d called him and left at least five messages. As shocked as I was, I’d wanted to know he was alright. A week on I still couldn’t figure out my feelings, but that didn’t mean I could switch them off either. “Has he contacted you?”

  Damon’s dark eyes were sad. “No.”

  I knew he missed Gabe’s friendship. I missed him too, but the problem was I wasn’t sure if what I missed was real or if it had all been a lie.

  “The band is done,” Damon said.

  I nodded. I was avoiding the news but I had no doubt Gypsy Hour’s breakup had made worldwide headlines. Levi was in no condition to play guitar, even if they’d wanted him to. Damon had already told me they’d had to cancel the rest of their European shows and the fallout was major.

  “It doesn’t seem fair that Gabe is getting bad publicity for it,” Damon added.

  I had to agree. I was mad at Gabe for his lies, but I wasn’t angry for the way he’d tried to protect me. Now he was front-page news for beating up his bandmate and my publicist was attempting to distance me from it and protect me from the worst of it. Pictures had been released to the media of Levi just minutes afterwards—probably from one of the party attendees. I didn’t view any of them or go near any of my social media accounts, but my publicist informed me there was a lot of sympathy for Levi. Social media was filled with commenters calling for Gabe to be up on assault charges. I refused to make any comment to the media.