Staged

by Olivia Cunning

  “He’s always been a sucker for saving a woman in peril,” Steve commented, hoping Tamara thought he was referring to her fight earlier and not to the fact that he was moments away from losing his cool and pulling a Roux on her.

  Steve was ready to play a card now, though he probably wouldn’t be as slick as the two sharks that had been baiting her before he’d arrived. “The other night was a pretty special evening between us.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Why would you post those pictures online?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Flabbergasted, he looked up. She had to be lying. Had to be. But her expression read innocent.

  “Who . . .” He breathed out the word.

  “I sent them to Bianca. She said I’d never get you no matter how hard I tried. Guess she was wrong.”

  A toe brushed his ankle and pushed up his pant leg to trail up his shin. He scooted his chair back.

  “Bianca posted them?” He massaged one eyebrow; his head hurt. “Why in the fuck would she do that?” He didn’t expect an answer.

  “So Sam can’t blackmail her anymore.”

  Steve looked from Dare to Max to Logan. They looked as clueless as he felt.

  “Sam is blackmailing her?”

  Tamara shrugged. “Why else would she take his money?”

  “Because her tabloid is going bankrupt,” Dare said.

  “She wanted it to go bankrupt. Tax write-off.”

  “So she isn’t broke?” Steve asked.

  Tamara laughed. “After all the money she got from you in the divorce? She’s set for life.”

  “How is Sam blackmailing her?” Max asked.

  And just how many people could one man screw over at one time? Sam had to have an infinite number of dicks in those Armani trousers of his.

  “He has proof that Steve never cheated on her, and his infidelity was the whole reason she won such a huge settlement. He said you could file a mistrial or something and get all your money back plus interest. I don’t know all the details, but she was really freaked out.”

  “Actually, lots of people know he didn’t cheat on her,” Logan said. “Steve let her win.”

  Steve couldn’t deny it. He’d been called an idiot more times than he cared to admit for giving her the lion’s share of his fortune. Bianca fearing that he would take all her money made him want to laugh. Why hadn’t she asked him about it? How had she fallen for Sam’s trickery? Probably for the same reason Max had fallen for it all these years: Sam was better at playing a role than any award-winning actor.

  “But those pictures were taken recently,” Dare said. “How does that stop Sam from proving Steve didn’t cheat all those years ago?”

  “Once a cheater always a cheater?” She shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her since she posted them. Maybe she thought that defense would work retroactively. Or maybe she wanted to hurt you or even me for proving her wrong and finally getting the man she stole from me. Or maybe she wanted my boyfriend to see them, which is fine, because I don’t need him anymore.” She grinned at Steve. “Whatever her reason, things are definitely working out in my favor.”

  Yep. Totally delusional.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Logan said, reaching across the table to flick Steve on the shoulder. “That thing you wanted Butch to look up for you?” He bit his bottom lip, raised his eyebrows, and lifted his chin. “Seventy-two hours. I googled it.”

  Steve did some quick mental math and figured it had been sixty hours, maybe more, since Ms. Delusional had slipped him the drug. He’d better find a clinic or hospital that could take a blood and urine sample before it worked its way completely out of his system. He hoped he hadn’t missed the chance to strengthen his evidence. Short of getting a confession directly from the perpetrator, he had no proof that she’d taken advantage of him, and while that wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted the public to hear, he definitely wanted Roux to know that he would never intentionally hurt her. Especially not by messing around with the whack-job attempting to play footsie with him under the table.

  “I’ve got to go get a blood test,” Steve said, staring directly at Tamara for the first time since he’d arrived.

  She giggled. “I guess your red-headed angel wasn’t as clean as you thought she was.”

  Steve took a deep breath to calm himself. “If anyone gave me a disease, it would be you,” he said, unable to stop himself. “But that’s not why I need a blood test. I need to see if I still have Rohypnol in my system.”

  The blood drained from Tamara’s face. She might as well have tattooed a confession across her forehead.

  “Rohypnol?” Max asked. “What’s that?”

  “Rope. Roofies,” Logan said. “I’m sure you’ve heard of roofies before.”

  “The date-rape drug?” Max lifted a brow at Steve. “Why would you take that?”

  “I didn’t. Tamara slipped it to me so she could stage those pictures,” Steve said. He didn’t have the patience for being sneaky about this. He might as well lay it all on the table while there were witnesses.

  “You don’t have any proof,” she said, standing up.

  “Hence the blood test.” Or urine test. He wasn’t sure which he needed, but neither did she, obviously.

  She backed several steps away from the table. “Anyone could have slipped it to you.”

  “Only one person touched my bottle that night besides me, and that would be you.”

  “I’m not that desperate!”

  Logan sniggered and then burst out laughing. Steve was surprised when Dare and Max joined him. “She has to roofie men to get laid!” Logan announced to the entire room.

  “Aw, I’ll shag the nutter if she’s on the pull,” a man at the bar said, lifting his glass.

  Tamara darted out of the bar, and the laughter around the table died at once.

  “Did she really roofie you?” Max asked.

  “Almost certain she did.”

  “That is fucked up. Are you going to report this?”

  “I just want Roux to know I didn’t betray her.” And he needed her to know as soon as possible. The fear of her breaking it off with him made him hesitate to contact her, but he didn’t want her to anguish over the situation with Tamara for another moment. “Can I borrow someone’s phone? Mine’s smashed.”

  Logan offered his, but he didn’t have Roux’s number. No one had it in their contacts besides him, and he couldn’t remember it off the top of his head.

  “Shit.”

  “Maybe Butch has her number,” Logan suggested.

  He didn’t, but he did have Iona’s. And Iona would likely answer Max’s call. It didn’t take much to convince Max to call Iona. He put her on speaker and set the phone on the table.

  “If you’re calling for your friend,” Iona said, “tell him to go suck a leper’s dick.”

  Max grinned at Steve. He was obviously enjoying this.

  “I just wanted to make sure you all made it back to the hotel safely,” Max said.

  “Yes, we’re fine.”

  “Is Roux still upset?” Max asked.

  “Of course she’s fucking upset. Her boyfriend cheated on her with a tabloid reporter and was forced to resort to drinking and violence. Why wouldn’t she be upset?”

  Steve clutched at his thighs so he wouldn’t blurt out some defense.

  “You sound upset as well.”

  “No one fucks with one of my sisters. You’d better tell Aimes to watch his back.”

  “I have good evidence that those pictures were staged,” Max said. “Steve is not a cheater.”

  “Everyone knows he’s a cheater. It was all over the news during his divorce. He didn’t deny it. Not even once.”

  “If you knew Steve at all, you’d realize he doesn’t tolerate stress well.”

  What the hell was Max talking about? Steve handled stress just fine. When he was stressed he just needed a bit of alcohol or some drugs, or to disappear from the spotlight for a while, or . . . So maybe he didn’t toler
ate stress well. But that wasn’t why he hadn’t bothered to set the public record straight during his divorce. The truth hadn’t been worth the . . . stress. Steve rubbed a hand over his face. Apparently Max knew him a lot better than he’d realized. But he wasn’t going to make the same mistake with Roux. Getting her to understand the truth was worth any level of stress he’d be forced to tolerate.

  “So rather than drag the divorce out into an even messier spectacle,” Max continued, “he let her vent her rage and just signed the papers.”

  “Sounds like something Roux would do,” she said. “Can you believe she wants to hear his side of this? Like there is anything he can do or say to make this better.”

  Steve blew out a quiet breath of relief. Roux was willing to hear him out. He prayed she believed him.

  “I’m telling you, he was set up,” Max said. He gave Steve a pointed look. “I just hope he can find a way to prove it. The clock is ticking. He’d better find an open clinic before it’s too late.”

  Steve slid his chair back, and he and Logan stood simultaneously.

  “A clinic? He better not have given Roux any of that skank’s STIs.”

  Max waved Steve off, letting him know he’d try to get Iona to understand the situation. Steve had to hurry. The clock really was ticking.

  *~*~*

  Hours later, Steve stood at Roux’s hotel room door, his hand raised to knock. Butch had already scored him a new cellphone and had his data transferred to it—there were so many perks to this rock star gig—but Roux hadn’t answered his calls and voicemails or replied to his texts. Hope had started to wither, but he had no plans to give up yet. He wished Zach was there to offer support, but he was halfway to Los Angeles by now. Logan had helped Steve secure the drug tests he needed, but it would be days before the results were in. He’d also discovered that a hair sample could be sent off and the drug—along with any he’d purposely taken—would be detectable for months after ingestion. The clinician had carefully recorded details of the incident in case he decided to take the case to the police. Apparently spiking a drink could lead to years of jail time, but he wasn’t sure he wanted his business made public. He felt like a fool for falling into Tamara’s trap, and though there was photographic evidence of the crime, he didn’t remember the violation clearly. It felt like it had happened to someone else. But if Roux hated him now and dumped him, he’d probably file charges against Tamara out of spite.

  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was close to midnight. She might be asleep. Maybe he should have called her room first. Maybe . . .

  The door eased open, and he was leveled by a blue-eyed glare. Raven crossed her arms over her chest. “You have some nerve showing up here after all this time.”

  “I had important issues to take care of before I could explain what happened.” And he’d been more than a little nervous. He knew he wouldn’t handle Roux’s anger or her disgust well. His heart was already thudding in his chest. This kind of confrontation should be easier for a rock star, shouldn’t it? It wasn’t.

  “Explain what?” Raven’s eyes narrowed. “How getting your rocks off is more important to you than my sister’s love? Fuck you.” She tried to close the door, but Steve lifted his arm to block it. Now that he was here, there was no way he was backing down without seeing her.

  “Roux,” he called into the room. “I know you’re hurt and you probably hate me, but—” Raven kicked him in the shin. “Ow!”

  “Go away or I’m calling the cops,” Raven threatened.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Or maybe I should call Iona.”

  That woman was far more frightening than cops.

  “Roux, I didn’t sleep with her on purpose.”

  “But you did sleep with her,” Raven said.

  “You found me afterwards,” he called to Roux, hoping she could hear him. “Remember how out of it I was that night, how sick? And all I did was have some whiskey.”

  “A lot of whiskey,” Raven said. “Being drunk does not excuse your behavior.”

  He hadn’t wanted to announce the depth of the situation to the entire corridor, but seeing as Raven was blocking the door, he didn’t know what choice he had.

  “I know that, but I wasn’t drunk. I was drugged.”

  “That doesn’t make it any better!” Raven shoved him.

  “Tamara drugged me. She slipped something into my bottle.”

  Raven cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper. “She put rope or ketamine or GHB or something in my whiskey and then molested me when I was unconscious.”

  “Are you sure?” Raven said, some of the tension going out of her.

  “That’s where I’ve been for the past few hours, at the hospital getting tested so I’d have proof. But it takes a while for the results to come back, and . . . I couldn’t wait until then to tell her the truth. Roux? Please say something.”

  Raven searched his eyes for a long moment and then sighed. “She isn’t here.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

  “Because I think she’s an idiot for running back to you, for not wanting to believe the worst about you even though the entire world has seen proof of your cheating.”

  “Running back to me? I haven’t seen her. She hasn’t answered her phone. I’ve been trying to reach her for hours.” His heart began to thud out of control. Maybe something had happened to her. He wouldn’t put it past Tamara to hurt her. Although Roux had effectively kicked her ass earlier that day, he wasn’t sure she’d even try to defend herself if she wasn’t drunk.

  “Yeah, I know you’re obsessed. I have her dumb phone, and it’s been ringing and binging nonstop.” Raven shoved the phone into his chest. He took it from her hand, rubbing his thumb over the familiar puppy-picture case. “I thought I could get her to stay here if I took it away from her, but she left anyway.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Maybe you should check your hotel room, dumbass.”

  “My room . . .”

  Steve turned and sprinted down the corridor and to the stairs, not wanting to waste time waiting for an elevator. Security stayed out of his way as he fumbled with his keycard and threw the door open. A single lamp glowed beside the bed, and he didn’t see her at first. A huge sigh of relief escaped him when he spotted her curled up on the end of a loveseat, her eyes closed and her head resting on her arm.

  She believed in him. He’d never had another person demonstrate that level of trust in him. Of course, she could be there to tell him off to his face, but she was there.

  He crossed the room and squatted in front of her. He watched her sleep for a moment, knowing the peaceful expression of slumber would soon be replaced with fury or agony or any number of unpleasant emotions. He couldn’t resist touching her for long, however. He slipped a lock of hair from her smooth cheek, tucking it behind her ear. She murmured something unintelligible, and her eyes blinked open.

  “Steve,” she said, sitting up straight.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  Her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying, and the thought of her suffering over this tore at his heart. He hadn’t been there to hold her and assure her that everything was going to be okay.

  “How could you?” she shouted. “How could you? With her?”

  “I couldn’t,” he said.

  “You did!”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Don’t play me for a fool, Steven Aimes.”

  He tried to take her hands in his, but she slapped them away.

  “I’m not playing you, baby. Will you listen to what really happened?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, but she didn’t look at him as he tried to figure out where to begin.

  He set her phone on her lap. “I’ve been trying to call you since I got my phone replaced. I broke my old one when I saw those pictures of Tamara online.”

  “That doesn�
��t erase them from the Internet, you know,” she snapped.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if I could erase them?”

  “And they weren’t pictures only of Tamara. That was you there with her.”

  “Roux . . .” He shifted to his knees, as squatting was starting make his legs cramp, and knelt at her feet. “Those pictures were taken at Donington that night you found me naked in my puked-on bed.”

  “I figured that much out, and I know you were really drunk that night, but still . . .” She blinked back tears. “Are you going to screw around on me every time you get drunk?”

  “Of course not. I’m not a cheater. I’ll never screw around on you.”

  “You already have.”

  “I wasn’t drunk,” he said.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “I was a little drunk,” he admitted. “Maybe a lot drunk, but I don’t pass out cold like that after drinking. I sure don’t throw up, black out, and lose hours of time. She drugged me, Roux. With a date-rape drug. I’m sure of it. I had samples taken to try to prove it, but she all but admitted it in front of my bandmates earlier tonight.”

  “She drugged you?”

  Apparently Max hadn’t convinced Iona to spread the word of Steve’s innocence.

  “She fucking drugged you?” Roux bellowed.

  Steve leaned away from the fury radiating off the sweetest woman he’d ever known.

  “I believe so.”

  “And then did those, those things to you while you were unconscious?”

  Steve nodded. His stomach churned with queasiness. He couldn’t remember much about Tamara’s actions, but that feeling of nausea persisted every time he thought about what she’d done.

  “I should have killed that bitch when I had the chance.” Roux sprang from the sofa and began to pace. “Can you have her arrested? Deported? Hanged?”

  “I only care about not losing you,” he said, shifting from the floor to sit on the sofa that was still warm with Roux’s body heat. “I don’t care about her being punished.”

  “I care. She raped you.”

  “She tried,” he said. “But she couldn’t get my dick hard.” That was the one thing about that night that he remembered clearly. He tried smiling, but that sick feeling returned to the pit of his belly.