Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1)

by Lyrica Creed

  Finally, flipping back the shade on the windowed door, he checked to verify he wasn’t unlocking to the boogeyman.

  What he found was a conundrum. Ivy Messlehof flexed her shoulders when she saw him, and a hopeful, barely-there smile curved her lips. There was no use even entertaining the idea of leaving her outside. The temptation was there of returning to bed to curl around a Scarlette who seemed more peaceful than she’d been in weeks. But Rascal pranced excitedly near Ivy’s legs, and when his dog saw him through the window, he pawed the door. Drawing a fortifying breath, he unlocked and swung open the door. Rascal shot through with an animated waggling tail.

  When Gage continued to block the threshold without a word, Ivy spoke. “Gage!” Her dark eyes wandered over him. Seeing them alight with definite interest was a reminder of how barely dressed he was. “Wow!” Her eyes still hadn’t hit his face, and he suddenly wished he’d thought of donning the shirt he’d cleaned up, instead of rolling it with the rest of the clothing. When her gaze ran down his arm, stopping on the ink etching his left fingers, he knew some of that wow had been over his tattoos. For a second, he remembered Scar’s reaction play out in almost this same scenario the night she’d shown up on his doorstep. Her lips moved a couple of times before more words came out. “Just wow. I’ve seen you. Pictures obviously. But in person it’s so different.”

  “Wow to you too, Ivy.” He felt guilty greeting her, even much more so, returning her joking compliment. But standing before him, as much as the woman she’d become, was the fourteen year old girl he remembered.

  “The boys said they had permission to keep your dog all night. But he wouldn’t settle down. And I wanted to talk to Scarlette. So I said I’d just bring him over. Can I come in? I really need to see her. Please?” Relenting, he stepped back. She continued her seemingly nervous chatter as she passed him. “Did I wake you guys? I heard music and the lights were all on…” She trailed off when he turned away long enough to close the door. Her throat moved convulsively, and her eyes riveted from his shoulder blades to his face. “Um, anyway… she’s asleep isn’t she? Or is she mad?” This time when her gaze grazed below his face to his chest and more, she seemed off. “I should come back.”

  “No.” Scar’s voice rang quiet but clear as she advanced on them from the den.

  Ivy halted next to him and her hand, already reaching for the door latch, fell to her side. “I feel so bad about everything. I’ve been outside staring at the lake all night. I couldn’t go to bed without trying to talk to you.”

  “Erm, I’m just going to…” He locked with Scar’s eyes with a silent inquiry and felt the okay when she blinked. “If you need me, I’ll be…” Whatever you need always. He whistled for Rascal and the two of them adjourned to the bedroom. It was the best privacy he could give her, other than resorting to closing himself in the bathroom.

  They didn’t keep their voices down, and their conversation drifted clearly. He wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping. The bedroom didn’t have a television or anything. His phone was still in the dock in the other room, so headphones were out.

  “You were right to worry. The guys in the band, on the bus that first night, they saw me texting and took my phone. Said they’d give it back. That it was to make sure I didn’t take pictures or anything. But it was lost by the time we reached L.A. By the time we were in L.A., I was sick of them. Things happened. At first, I was into it. Then sometimes it didn’t feel right. You know? I mean not bad things. Just sharing, and threesomes… foursomes… One of them had this ritual before every show. He had to snort cook from a girl’s… ass… so sometimes, that was me. It was degrading…”

  He wished the bed would open up and swallow him with its layers of pillows and blankets to muffle what he was hearing to a bearable murmur of less audible words.

  It was crazy on the road. Hell, the life for many musicians was crazy off the road. Until this moment, he’d never viewed the debauchery from the eyes of the women they’d used and discarded as party favors. He’d never been more ashamed.

  “…I was so ready to dump them, but I was in Hollywood. Finally. My dream. Where it turns out, Pax has a wife! Did you ever know he had a wife? Keeping that under wraps is pretty miraculous…”

  Not so miraculous, Gage thought. His own wife hadn’t come to light, not until she’d tried to take half of everything present and future…

  “…so, get this. He introduces me to her. Tells her things. Things, you know? And she smiles and asks how long I’m staying! The rest happened like I said. Me and Bradley met, hit it off. The tape got out there. The thing is… Scarla, I didn’t know you’d be worried. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you’d give it another thought.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? We were best friends.”

  Silence.

  “We were friends, I mean.”

  Silence. And then Ivy. “I hadn’t seen you in years.”

  “But we stayed in touch. Texted. Facebook…” Silence. “Oh… Seriously? I’m just one of the ‘Ivy Leagues’ now? One of your gazillion bitches who text and like your statuses?”

  “No! I didn’t know. I didn’t realize. That you still thought of us as that close. If I had thought you were worrying—that you would get on a plane—I swear to God I would have―”

  “I know.” Scar cut her off, and his heart ached for her. “I know. It’s fine. Don’t worry.” It wasn’t fine. He knew that voice. Her fake bravado voice. “I get it. Seriously, no worries.”

  “Scarlette? It means the world to me that you did this. I mean, my mom didn’t even come looking. You’re the one who came. And I was sitting in the dark tonight, remembering us. The Dynamite Duo. Remember? It was us against the Ivy Leagues and Scarlette’s Harlots. I realized how fake everything in my life has been. Friends who turned on each other. Parents wrapped up in their own lives. Boyfriends who couldn’t handle the real me. But you’ve always been there, and I didn’t realize it. Because you were saying all the stuff anyone else said. But you’re the only one who meant it.”

  “I’m sorry your life has been sucky. I hope it’s better now.”

  “And there it is. The fake voice.” So Ivy knew her well enough to recognize it too. Part of him wanted to storm out there and rip the bitch’s hair out for hurting Scar. What the hell had possessed her to come clean with the brutal truth, when doing so would tear Scar apart? “I don’t blame you. Can you promise me something though? Call me again? Or text me if you want to start that way? I want to be friends again. I want to be best friends. Like we were. Like you were always.” Awkward silence. A squeak of sneakers on the floor. The clink of the door latch. “I’m glad you have Gage to get you through the shit coming up. He was always crazy about you from the start. I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”

  The door closed, and Rascal jumped from the bed, clacking down the hallway to investigate.

  He heard her stirring about in the kitchen. It was several minutes before she, followed by Rascal, shadowed the doorway.

  “I guess you heard.” She crossed the room and handed over the bitter cherry mix in a chipped mug and a bottle of water. Then she scooted back against the headboard with him, cradling her own mug of something. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “No you’re not. You’re a good person.” It killed him that she’d been lonely and reaching out to a ghost the last several years.

  “I feel so stupid. About everything. Not just Ivy.” Meaning her mother too? “God…”

  “Stop saying that. You’re not. You’re different. You see the good first where others see the bad first.” Sucking the drink down in one long swallow, he shuddered and took several gulps of the water. She twisted, pulling the chain on the antique lamp and switching it off.

  Rascal wedged between them when they scrunched down to lay, heads resting on their pillows.

  He rested his arm over her waist and searched for her eyes in the shadows. “Do you think she guessed about us?”

  “She didn’t have to guess” Her fingers glided down
his back. “You have eight very angry claw marks…”

  “Is that okay with you?”

  “That I marked you? Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “That she knows, smarty.” He brushed his fingertips along her wrist as he waited for her answer.

  “I don’t care who knows.”

  Did he care? She didn’t ask again, but he thought on it.

  There would be a lot of shade thrown.

  They would have to be ready for the publicity a relationship between Tyler Conterra’s daughter and the son of the man who had discovered and originally signed him would cause.

  The icing on this cake was their prior adolescent relationship. Stepbrother and stepsister could easily be overlooked had they been adults who fell for one another and their parents married. But they’d grown up together in the same house; they’d sat across the dinner table as brother and sister for several years. Hell, Scarlette had begun calling his father ‘Dad’! Their twisted brand of stepsibling-turned-lovers was the taste of scandal media hounds thirsted for.

  However, their prior relationship as ‘steps’ was what had brought them together. A fierce girl who had lost her father before she’d known him. A lonely boy who had lost a loving mother too soon.

  He had always loved Scarlette. And she’d always loved him. She might not know it yet. But he was confident she would figure it out soon. Where they would go from there, he didn’t know, but they would work through it together.

  Chapter 43

  “The hell? Last time we’re coming here for privacy…”

  I filled a glass with orange juice as I listened to Gage grumble. I understood but saw the amusement in the situation. Seth yesterday afternoon. Ivy last night. And now Colt was on the deck, hiding from the morning sun behind his shades.

  We’d banged out a quickie in the shower, and had been about to fuel up and go back to bed. The stereo in Colt’s convertible rental had pounded out a pulsing beat heralding him by almost a minute before he turned into the drive.

  Gage grabbed our clothing from the couch and followed me to the bedroom. He tossed it to the bed and stepped into his jeans. I tried to ignore his heated gaze as I dressed, but took my time. Barefoot and bare-chested, he turned for the hall, and at the last second, shot me a meaningful look of amusement and plucked his tee shirt from the clothing pile, shrugging it on as he exited the room.

  Colt and Gage struck up a dialogue, and I listened, mortified to hear how clear the conversation between Ivy and me had been to Gage.

  Gage’s side was less distinct. He seemed to be in the kitchen, which was on the other side of the bedroom wall. But Colt was standing in the den, right where both Ivy and I had been.

  “You knew. Told you I’d be here this morning to pick up Seth. He’s got a skate thing this evening.”

  I closed myself in the bathroom and picked up my toothbrush. When I opened the door a few minutes later, the tone of the talk was serious.

  “…and I’m sorry about that.” Gage was saying. “It was shitty of me. You know I got screwed on the first album, and after that, I was damn sure not letting it happen again. I know now, I did the same thing to you that was done to me.”

  “You’re serious about this? Fifty-fifty on those three?”

  “Retroactive. If you want it. I realize you might want to wait for the lawsuit to be over one way or another on the one. And then any you do on the upcoming albums.”

  “If the label keeps us.”

  “Word.”

  “Dude, I don’t know what to say.”

  I felt emotional tears prick my eyes when I emerged into the hall in time to see them clasp. “All right. What’d I miss?”

  “You’ll be shocked to know, your brother owned up to being a dick.” Colt grinned, but his normal jackass tone was tempered by the emotion in his eyes.

  “Shut up, dick.” Gage rolled his eyes. When I passed close enough, Colt swooped in with a peck to my lips. Instantly, he was ripped away from me and pinned to the wall, with Gage’s hand on his throat and his face an inch from Colt’s. “How many times have I said to stop that shit?”

  As I almost passed out from hyperventilating with the shock of the scene, Colt swung his bugged out eyes from Gage, to me, and then back and forth again. The shocked mask slipped away, comprehension replaced it, and he cackled. “Finally!” He barely got the word out between peals of laughter and Gage released him. “Oh my God, finally. It’s about time, you two. Grats!”

  Embarrassed, I darted into the kitchen. “Anyone want breakfast?” Moving a disc in a blank sleeve aside, I pulled the bag of bagels closer and began to twist open the tie.

  “Yeah, ‘cause it’s breakfast around here, I guess.” When I glanced to see what the hell he’d meant by that Colt was smirking again. His eyes met mine knowingly and then checked Gage’s reaction like a pesky brother. Yep. He’d meant exactly what it had sounded like. Screw all night. Sleep till noon. Quickly though, he made amends. “What I meant was, since it’s technically lunch, let’s go to BIN189.”

  “That’s the restaurant we never got to last night?” I asked Gage, and when I heard a snort from Colt, I whipped around. “By all that is holy, cut that shit out! We went to a party instead.”

  “A party?” Colt too, looked to Gage. “And you didn’t text?”

  “Turns out The Vox has a place down the street.” Gage named their rapper host from the evening before that she’d never ended up meeting.

  “Interesting. Not. Since I wasn’t there. So let’s go. I’m starved.”

  Gage looked down at his half-dressed state. “Ten minutes.”

  “I should change too,” I followed.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake! Seriously, you two. Dressing only. No undressing. And hurry!”

  I closed the menu, my mind on the giant chef’s salad I had ordered. It couldn’t come soon enough. The lake beyond sparkled in the sunlight and a light breeze ruffled the pine trees. Beneath the table, Gage’s leg was flush with mine, and Colt’s sneakers nudged my ankle. I kicked him and he only laughed. Gage frowned at the two of us.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you, Scarla.” Colt grinned.

  “What the hell, man. Do you want to die?” Gage’s glower was downright scary.

  “Not that kind of surprise. Fuck. What kind of friend do you think I am? Or idiot for that matter?” Colt straightened in his seat.

  “Hey, Dad.” Seth stopped by our table.

  Behind me, I could hear chairs scraping as a new party of patrons joined us on the patio.

  “Hey, kid. You have a good weekend?” Colt greeted, and the moment Seth answered, his eyes went beyond his son.

  I knew that look. The prowl. And just as quickly, I realized what was going on.

  “So, get this. When Seth here texted me directions this morning, I realized something huge. His voice dropped conspiratorially, and everyone, including Seth visibly leaned a fraction closer. “Jeter is Bradley Walker’s son.”

  “Old news, Dad,” Seth informed, and Colt eyed him. “Yeah. They found out yesterday. And went to a party with them. Turns out Scarla and Ivy are friends.”

  “Wait, how do you know that?” I abandoned the water I was sipping through a straw and forgot about Gage’s watchful eyes on what I was doing.

  “I heard her telling Bradley that you were once best friends and that she missed you a lot.”

  Beneath the table, Gage’s hand curved to my thigh. Protective. Reassuring. Warm.

  Bored with the adults, Seth migrated back to the table with his friend. I didn’t turn around to look at Ivy, but could almost see her reflection in Colt’s vigilant gaze beyond our table.

  “So the two of you talked?” Colt wondered. “Did she say if she and Walker are serious?”

  By now, I had my phone in my hand, and I paused from the text screen to send a withering glare his way.

  His hands went up, palms facing me in a defense gesture. “Hey. She’s hot. I had to ask.” When I returned my attention to my text,
conscious of Gage randomly peering over my shoulder, Colt pressed, “So, I guess that’s a yes?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “She seems very happy.” I hit send.

  You up for a girl’s lunch?

  sent 12:45 PM

  Ivy

  Now?

  12:46 PM

  Ivy

  Sure

  12:46 PM

  My heart pounded nervously. Leaning into Gage, I related my plans to share a table with Ivy. After some shuffling, Ivy and I ended up across from each other at a table inside, and the men all remained outside at the patio table where Jeter, Seth, and Bradley were seated.

  “Thanks.” Ivy broke a piece of bread in half, but instead of eating it, she looked over it with a grateful grin. “For not being mad too long.”

  “Thanks for coming over last night.” I watched through the window as Jeter and Seth horsed around at their table. “I still can’t believe we were probably crossing paths the entire time I was looking for you.”

  “We were. I forgot to tell you. I saw you once. I didn’t think it could be you. But I was so surprised. I was getting out of the car and Bradley stopped me. We were in a rush. Now looking back, now that I know Colt is part of Fire Flight—seeing you with them, I know it was.”

  I thought back to the evening on Colt’s driveway when I’d seen a car door open and then close. The scene only served to remind me how easily Ivy could have reached out to me many times.