“Only what Jonah has told me, and that’s not much. He certainly didn’t tell me they would show up here.”
Jules shrugged. “He might not have known.” Stranger things had happened. “Gay is famous for little surprises like this.”
Jules sat on the sofa and cuddled her grandson close. Vi instantly knew something was very wrong with this picture. She joined her new friend on the sofa. “You’d think she could afford to rent something a heck of a lot nicer than a three-bedroom condo. Wonder why she’s here?”
Jules sighed as she brushed Cody’s dark hair with her fingers. Dark hair that he’d inherited from their side. And now they were here. Right across the street.
She hadn’t said as much to Lacy but she suspected that the Hollises were positioning themselves to take Cody away from them. The longer they went without getting the paperwork relinquishing Tony Paul’s rights to his son only made her more nervous.
Lacy had given Gay that paperwork months ago. Yet Tony Paul was back in the states without the benefit of filing them. That meant Gay had an agenda. Gay always had an agenda.
Jules turned to Leah. “Why don’t you take Cody into the backyard? I think I saw a swing set out there earlier.”
Leah nodded with a huge smile. “We have one at our place, too! Come on, Cody,” she said as she took the young boy by the hand and led him outside. The minute the door shut behind them, Jules turned back to Vi.
She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about anything if she could help it, but if Vi and Leah could provide additional defense between the Abernathys and the Hollises, it was worth it. She sensed immediately she could trust the friendly blonde who wore a simple cross around her neck and her wedding ring on her hand, though her husband had died many months before.
Besides, Lacy had already trusted them with Cody, which was huge.
“Tony Paul Hollis used to date my daughter. He got her pregnant and immediately left her hanging when he realized she wasn’t willing to get an abortion and let him off the hook. The minute she filed for child support, he skipped the country entirely.”
Vi nodded as she put the pieces together. There was no judgment in those blue eyes. Merely understanding. “So you think she wants to get close to Cody?”
“Why else would she slum it with the rest of us? She has to know that we’re here,” Jules explained. “Lacy saw Tony Paul a week ago when she first visited the mansion.”
Vi leaned back on the cushion. This wasn’t good news. She didn’t know how her son would take living with the man who had so badly betrayed the woman he loved. They had talked a lot in the last few months. Lacy Abernathy had won her son’s heart in a way no one before her ever had. He would crawl across broken glass to get her back. Beating some deadbeat to a pulp to defend her honor? That might prove one temptation too great for her hotheaded son to bear. This was one complication that none of them needed.
“Do you think the producers knew?” she asked Jules.
Jules shrugged with a sigh. “I say yes. Lacy says no. She claims she told no one about Cody’s paternity. God knows they surely wouldn’t spill the beans or else they’d have to open their pocketbook to pay back child support.”
Her bitterness against the Hollises was understandable. Vi leaned toward her with a warm smile as she touched her hand. “If it makes you feel any better, I have no loyalty to the Hollises, not after what they did to Jonah. I’ll help you however you need.”
Jules’s smile was a little wider and more genuine. She hadn’t made friends easily in her life, but knowing this lady was willing to help her protect her grandson was worth its weight in gold. “Let’s go finish that casserole,” she offered her new friend.
The first familiar face that Jonah saw was not, in fact, Lacy Abernathy. Courtney Adams struggled to carry her two overstuffed suitcases through the front door, with the driver rushing in behind her. “Let me help you, Miss,” he repeated to the stubborn blonde.
“I’ve got it,” she kept saying with a smile.
“I’ve got it,” Jonah finally said as he rushed over to help. Courtney smiled up at him.
“Always the boy scout,” she accused playfully as he lifted one of her heavy bags into one hand. “But you don’t have to. I can do this on my own.”
She seemed oddly obstinate about it, which puzzled Jonah. “Why make things harder on yourself if you don’t have to?” he asked as he led the way upstairs, not giving her a chance to fight him on the matter.
She followed him with a sigh. They didn’t stop until they reached her room at the top of the stairs. Unlike the room the men shared, the girls’ room was larger, with makeup tables next to the beds that lined all four walls. It was frilly and pretty, unlike the utilitarian bunks the men had. She planted her suitcase on an empty bed by the window, so he set her other bag beside it.
“Well, I guess I can’t say no to you, can I, Jonah Riley?” she said with a big smile as she looked up at him.
“You never could,” he reminded with a smirk.
A rustling at the door caught their attention. It was Lacy, who carried a duffle bag over one shoulder and her guitar in her hand. Jonah rushed over to help her but she had everything on the bed before he could reach her.
“Lacy,” he said as he stared down into her beautiful face. If it was possible, she got prettier each and every time he saw her. His heart melted when he lost himself in those big dark eyes.
She glanced between him and Courtney. “Jonah,” she finally said before turning away to greet her new roommate. “Hi, Courtney.”
“Lacy,” Courtney said with a nod. The tension was suddenly thick as a San Francisco fog.
Jonah turned back to Courtney. “Can you give us a few minutes, Courtney?”
The blonde didn’t look all that happy about it as she glanced between them. “I guess I can’t say no,” she said with as much lightheartedness she could muster before she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Jonah turned back to Lacy, who had crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Jonah, this is already awkward enough. Let’s not make it any more complicated than it has to be.”
Too late for that, he thought. “Tony Paul is here,” he said softly.
Her eyes stared into his. She didn’t even blink. “I know.”
“You know?” he echoed as he took a step backward.
She nodded. “For about a week,” she said before she turned to unpack. The first item, placed lovingly on top of what little clothes she brought, was the small stuffed frog she had purchased when they went to the flea market in Austin.
He knew immediately that was her reminder of Cody. Not a photo she might have to explain, or hide, but a simple stuffed animal she could cuddle close in place of the son she had to leave in order to follow her dream.
He couldn’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for her.
“Why is he here?” Jonah asked at last.
She shrugged. “To compete, same as me and you.” Jonah wasn’t buying it, so she elaborated. “You really didn’t think Gay would let either of us walk away with that recording contract from Graham Baxter, did you?”
He sighed. And there it was; their past sitting between them. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened in Austin. I didn’t know…,” he started but she cut him off.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “We all make mistakes, right?”
His eyes bored into hers. “I never considered you a mistake, Lacy.”
She stared at him for a long minute before she turned away. She had to. It still hurt too much. Because she still loved him, as much as she really, really didn’t want to.
“Jonah,” she started but he was quick to cross the distance between them. He wanted to uncoil her arms and take her into his embrace, but he knew there would be time for that. She needed to know he was there as her friend first. She needed to know she could trust him, and he couldn’t prove that to her if he manhandled her.
He lifted his hand but dropped it again. “I
just want you to know that no matter what happens you have a friend in this house. You’re not alone, Lacy.”
She turned her face away so he couldn’t see the tears well in her eyes. As much as she wanted to connect with him, she just couldn’t. It hurt her way more than she had thought. “How can we be friends and competitors, Jonah? We both want the same thing. We want to win.”
“You don’t want to win,” he murmured, which made her look into those mesmerizing tawny eyes. He still sported the beard, and was a wall of muscle head to toe. He was so real and solid in front of her, unlike the Jonah she had grown used to loving in her dreams. She could reach right up and kiss him if she wanted to.
And God help her, she wanted to.
“Jonah,” she said again, which only made his resolve crumble a little more. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. It was smoky and raspy and dark and seductive. It reminded him of every intimate moment they shared. He could still feel her all around him, like a silken dream.
He was completely captivated even now, after all these months.
He reached to touch her face before he could stop himself. The smoothness of her cheek felt like heaven against his fingertip. “Lacy,” he whispered as he stepped forward.
The door to the room opened and a tall, slender, ginger-haired woman exploded into the room in a fragrant breeze. There was a confident sway in her hips and her dazzling smile was framed by bright red lipstick. Though she was clearly in her forties, she wore leopard print leggings, a white button-down shirt tied at the middle and red velvet stilettos that added six inches to her already impressive height.
“Sorry to interrupt, darlings,” she said in a refined British accent as she scoped them up and down. “I can leave and come back in again if you’d like.”
Lacy shook her head as she stepped away from Jonah. This was precisely what she didn’t want.
The redhead stepped forward, offering a perfectly manicured hand. “Beatrix Fontaine,” she introduced smoothly.
“Lacy Abernathy,” Lacy offered. She referred to Jonah. “This is Jonah Riley. A friend.”
Jonah reached forward. “Hello, ma’am,” he drawled easily.
Beatrix appraised Jonah thoughtfully. “Aren’t you a tasty little morsel? The girls are going to love you.” Her laugh had a lilting ring. “But call me ma’am again and I may have to get something nipped or tucked.”
Jonah smiled. “No need for that from where I’m standing,” he complimented warmly.
“Oh, and a gentleman too. How delicious.” She turned back to Lacy. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?”
Lacy nodded. “I’m sure. In fact, I’m on my way out. I wanted to check out the studio before the house got too crowded.”
“Let me join you,” Jonah offered. He didn’t want Lacy running afoul of Tony Paul somewhere in the house unprotected.
“It’s okay,” she assured him before she slipped quickly out of the room. He sighed as he stared after her.
“Tough nut,” Beatrix commented as she sat on the bed and crossed those impossible long legs. “And yet they always taste the sweetest.” Her blue eyes pierced his. “Go get her, cowboy.”
Jonah needed no further encouragement. He chased down the hall after her. Instead he came face to face with Courtney, who had returned from the kitchen with a snack. “Everything okay?”
He nodded. He really didn’t have time to chat, but he couldn’t blow off the only confidante he had in the house, either. “It’s a long story,” he said.
“I’ve got some time,” she offered helpfully. He stared into Courtney’s face. It was clear she still adored him. She would have done anything for him and he knew it. But she deserved more than he could ever give her. It would make him a total shit if he led her to believe otherwise.
“It’s not my story to tell,” was all he could say.
She nodded and let him pass.
By the time he got to the studio, Shiloh was already there, tuning his guitar. Lacy was there too, sitting across from him on a stool, watching him work. Jonah hung back and simply watched.
“I hate covers,” he heard her confess to the older musician as she perused the songbook available for the live performances.
“Eh, they’re not so bad,” Shiloh answered. “The trick is to make them sound original.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He nodded toward the book. “Pick a song,”
“Any song?” she challenged with a cocked eyebrow.
“Any song,” he confirmed with a smile.
She picked the cheesiest ballad she could find. He grinned as he tuned the guitar a little. When he finally sang it, it was still slow, but it had a seductive quality with heavier chords and his growling voice, which made a sappy love song sound menacing and hard.
Lacy was clearly impressed. So was Jonah, who still eavesdropped.
“Pick another,” Shiloh told her. She offered yet another cheesefest pop song. Again he changed the tempo and made the music much heavier. “Only an artist can take something someone else has done and make it sound original,” he told her. “Remember that.”
She nodded, staring up at the older man with respect.
“Daddy issues,” a male voice said softly over Jonah’s ear. He turned to face Tony Paul.
“What?”
Tony Paul nodded his head toward Lacy. “Daddy issues. I guarantee.”
Jonah’s brow creased. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at her. Clearly no male guidance in her life or else she wouldn’t be inked practically head to toe. No one who loves a pretty girl like that would encourage her to scar herself.”
Jonah turned back to Lacy, who was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. “I don’t know. I think it makes her interesting.”
Tony Paul snorted in derision. “Please. It makes her look cheap. Shame. She could be really pretty, too.”
Jonah studied Tony Paul. It was clear he was trying to hide their previous association. Maybe he was afraid she’d still come after him for his money. It only made Jonah hate him even more. “Well, I’m sure there are plenty of other girls here you’d find acceptable.”
Tony Paul’s eyes glittered as he studied Lacy. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t fuck her,” he clarified. “She looks like a helluva lot of fun to ride,” he added as he consumed her with a hungry stare that immediately made Jonah want to cave in his arrogant face. “But some girls you marry. And some girls you don’t. She’s made damn sure she’s the latter, hasn’t she?”
Again Jonah’s hands curled into tight fists. He was ready to beat the shit out of this arrogant fuck right then and there. Tony Paul seemed blissfully unaware as he clapped Jonah on the back and ambled on down the hallway, to find someone else to annoy.
Chapter Three
The studios for Fierce were even more impressive than the mansion that housed the contestants. It sprawled over the vast back lot of a studio located in Burbank, complete with a recording studio, a stage to rehearse and executive offices. The soundstage for the show was decorated just like a historic theater, complete with balcony seating and long velvet curtains in regal purple with shimmery silver tassels. Fierce was spelled out in thousands of sparkling crystals.
It was a Monday when Lacy first arrived. She had a whole seven days to perfect her song for the live season opener the following Monday. She had no idea just how long a week it was going to be until she faced off with an older woman with cropped white hair and a piercing gaze she shot through her bifocals like a laser beam. Lacy, who was used to fighting balls to the wall for anything she had ever had in her life, gulped hard as she stood in front of the slight, but imposing, woman named Imogene Costas.
“And you are?” she clipped tersely as she glared at Lacy.
Lacy swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Lacy Abernathy.”
“And what song is it you plan to do, Lacy Abernathy?”
Lacy named the tune. It was a familiar song she had always performed at
Southern Nights, when she wanted to show the crowd exactly what she was made of. It was an angry anthem made popular by Carrie Underwood. She hoped it would give her edge and let her rock right out of the gate.
Imogene indulged her ninety-second performance before she nixed the whole thing entirely. “That’s not the right song for you to sing,” she informed Lacy. “It’s angry. You’re pissed off. And no one will like you.”
Lacy smirked to herself. Like she cared. She wasn’t about to change who she was to make herself more palatable for the viewing audience. They would take her as she was or they wouldn’t take her at all. She had made too many concessions already. “It’s the song I’m singing,” she announced, ready to dig her heels in if necessary.
“Fine,” Imogene shrugged. “Slow it down. Make it a ballad.”
“It’s not supposed to be a ballad,” Lacy answered.
“Exactly,” Imogene said. “You’re a hardass. We can see that. You wear it all on your body for the whole world to see. They’re expecting you to hit that stage, guns blazing. So no matter what you sing, no matter what you say, they’ll still stuff you in the neat little compartment where they think you belong. And guess what? There are girls here who sell that attitude a lot better than you can.”
Lacy was getting angrier the longer the lecture lasted. She opened her mouth to say something, but Imogene wasn’t finished.
“You go out there and sing a rock song and no one will remember your name. You turn that rock song into a ballad, sing it like you mean it, like you’ve been through something and learned something, and you’ll make everyone stop and pay attention. Do something unexpected and they’ll love you forever.”
Lacy tipped her chin. “This is the song I’m singing. And I’m singing it my way.”
Imogene shrugged. “Your choice. But don’t bother unpacking. You’ll be gone in a week.” She turned her attention to the front row of the audience, where other contestants waited to rehearse. “Next!”
Lacy’s knees knocked together as she walked back down the steps. The other contestant, a teenager, gave her an empathetic smile. “I liked it,” she said as they passed. Lacy watched the rehearsal briefly, to see if Imogene was as hard on the new girl as she had been on her.
Southern Rocker Showdown Page 3