“You’re being a pissy-ass bitch about me being at Colt’s?”
“I’m always a dick about you at Colt’s. And I always will be. I thought you’re with me now, and suddenly I’m feeling like I need to be there to fuckin’ drag you from his car.”
He’d hurt her. He saw it. A shimmer in her baby blues. A shift of her bottom lip told him she was biting it from the inside. She reeled from his words, but she came up fighting.
“You asshole! Seriously? You don’t get to say shit like that when you’re here hanging with junkie whores by the pool!”
“Hanging? I’m not hanging with anyone! Jesus. This isn’t a vacation. I’ve never felt so fuckin’ alone in my life.” Squeezing his eyes shut and clamping his teeth closed, he stopped the pitiful tirade. He felt her shift, but she didn’t storm off as he expected her to. Her hands still rested on his shoulders, but instead of clenching in anger, they’d relaxed, and now he swore he felt the slightest flex of her fingers—almost a gentle squeeze. His eyes drifted open, and his gaze landed smack into her concerned one. Panic seized him. Fear of being an object of her pity. Fear of how much he had opened up to her over the months, and fear of what she now saw when she looked at him. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come.”
Their relationship was so lopsided right now. Her having it all together and him in the middle of mayhem. He’d been afraid her seeing him in this element would tip the precarious balance and so he’d refused visits at first. Then, after a couple of months of missing her crazy, he’d given in. There had been none of the awkwardness he’d worried about until now.
Now, in the span of something he’d seen during a second in time, his doubts and insecurities returned with a vengeance. He shouldn’t have let her come.
“You’re right. It was stupid.” She pushed away with her hands, but remained staring angrily into his face. “I knew it too.”
Her reply ripped him from his contemplation. “Knew what, exactly?”
“Knew you couldn’t man up and handle doing what you have to do.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“It’s here, or doing time in county. You’d walk out if that weren’t the case.”
“I would. Because I’m fine. And there’s no sense sitting around here until some overpaid shrink decides I can leave.”
“They’ll let you leave when you’re ready! Goddammit, Gage. They don’t have some war against you. Let ’em do what they do! Let ’em help you.”
“Do what they do? You know how the world works. Someone like me walks in who has no choice except to stay as long as they say he has to stay. Someone who has deep pockets. Who, every week they can extort another fifteen grand from. Is it any wonder I’m not well enough to walk out of here yet? Fuck it all!” It suddenly seemed as if she was staring into his soul a little too sympathetically, and he closed himself off again, this time, looking away. Grasping her hips, he pushed at her, gaining some distance between them. “You should go.” She’d made it clear what she thought of him. He was a loser until a piece of paper said he wasn’t anymore.
Chapter 10
“Just go. Please…”
“Go where?” I studied his face, seeing the barest twitch of an eyelid. Still as a statue, he sat, waiting for what came next. What? For me to go ahead to the main complex, and he would catch up?
I had noticed the time on my phone screen. There was a half hour before the short meeting held before dinner. And then after dinner, guests had an hour left before visitation was over until the next afternoon.
Or go? As in leave for today? Each weekend, I visited on both Saturday and Sunday. I kept standing reservations in the same hotel we’d shared prior to his check in almost two months ago.
At last, his dark eyes roamed my face, before stopping dead on my gaze. “Go back to life. Back to what you do.”
One of the horses in the pastures might as well have been sitting on my chest. It became impossible to breathe, but I croaked out a confused, “What?”
“I’m not capable of a relationship right now.”
“What are you saying? Did that come out in therapy?”
“No!” His eyes widened a fraction, visibly shocked at the question and then a resigned look glazed them. “Look.” For a second he seemed on the verge of pulling me to him, and his next words were gentle. “Can we just end this for now, without a lot of talking? Just put everything on hold, and then do our talking when we’re not hiding out in a barn?”
Holding his gaze, I stood as if in a trance. “Fine. My flight tomorrow is not until six. Call me and―”
“I won’t. I won’t call. Change it for an earlier one. Go ahead back to the house and go about your life like there’s no me rotting away back here.”
I’d been on the verge of slapping him or breaking down in tears. Which, I wasn’t sure. Now, I worried and sank to his level again. “Do they have you on some meds?”
His eyes had strayed, but they snapped to mine. “No. This is me. All me. Telling you we’re done for now.”
“Fine.” I wanted to scream every hateful curse in my vocabulary at him. More so, I wanted to scream them at myself. He was a fucking rock star. They were all nuts, and I’d known that going in. What an idiot I’d been to convince myself the boy, who’d once been my ally against the world and against my mother, was still inside the man who had just fucked me both physically and emotionally. “I don’t want to talk about it either. So don’t worry.” I hated messy split ups. God. Is that what we’re doing? Breaking up? “I’ll talk to you when I talk to you, I guess.” I stood as I talked and clenched my phone as if it were a lifeline. “I’m going to see if I can get a red-eye out. Maybe I can get back before Colt goes to bed.” I moved toward the stairs. And suddenly he was there, in my face.
“Fuck you, Scarlette.”
“No. Fuck you!”
His lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, you did. And I’m the best you’ll ever have. You know it.”
“Asshole. Let me go!”
He looked down and seemed startled to see his hands curled around my upper arms. Immediately, he released and I shot down the stairs so fast, I hit my head on the wall as I rounded the corner.
Chapter 11
The warmth of the shower raining down over my skin relaxed me enough that my tears finally poured. I’d been dry eyed for almost twenty-four hours, through the overnight hotel stay—I hadn’t made good on my threat to take an earlier flight. Through the flight home, I’d dozed—exhausted from tossing and turning, expecting him to give in and call. I’d let myself into the house and played a few minutes with Rascal before going upstairs to wash the travel-grime feel from my body.
The dam of emotion might have remained intact longer had I not been reading the lyrics on the tile as I lathered my hair.
‘Forever Scarred’ broke me. There were only six verses in Gage’s distinctive scrawl. But his feelings and intentions at that time of our relationship shone through.
After drying off, I carelessly let the towel fall, pulled on one of his tee shirts and a pair of black Diesel boxers, and climbed into the bed with Rascal. Still sniffling, I dialed Ivy.
Voicemail greeted me and I spoke. “Hi. I just got back. Call me when you can.” Hesitating, I combed through Rascal’s fur. “Gage broke it off.”
The phone rang the second I pressed ‘end.’ Ivy’s number and smiling face blinked. Managing a hello through the lump in my throat, I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the waterworks begin again.
“Are you okay, honey?”
I nodded and then realized my friend couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah. Just sad.” Sad was such an understatement that my eyes betrayed me with more tears.
“He’s an idiot.” The three words were so vehemently spit through the speakers of the phone that I almost raised my fingers to my face to wipe it. “What happened? Tell me everything, hon.”
“We were…” What had happened? I cuddled closer to Rascal and shouldered th
e phone. “I went to visit. And we…” Letting my head fall back to the headboard, I watched the wall sconce on the wall over it blur. Now I did lift my finger and wipe a stray tear. “We had a good visit. And then he just went ballistic and turned on me. I was showing him a video of the stuff Seth is teaching me.”
“Why’d he lose his mind over Seth?”
“Because he assumed it was Colt teaching me the new stuff.”
“And when you told him it wasn’t?”
“Fuck him, just fuck him.”
“You didn’t tell him Colt has been on tour over a month?”
“If he doesn’t trust me then―”
“I know. Fuck him!”
My eyes burned and brimmed again, and when they flooded over and spilled down my face, I hiccupped out a “Fuck it all.” Through fresh sniffles, I croaked, “Want to come over tomorrow? Get drunk by the pool?”
Rascal edged close and rested his head across my leg. I cast my eyes about, looking for a tee shirt or anything near I could use on my dripping nose. Finally, I drew the edge of the sheet up and was too depressed to feel repulsed by the action. Forcing a deep breath through my mouth, I tried to calm myself, and wondered if her call had dropped.
Ivy’s words dripped with empathy. “Scarlette, I’m not in town. But I’ll be home Tuesday morning. Do you want to do something after your class? Are you going to class?”
“Where are you?” Another swipe at my nose while I tried to remember if Ivy had mentioned Bradley on location.
Again the seconds seemed long before Ivy chirped, “Auditioning. I’ll tell you all about it Tuesday. But you can call me anytime. In fact, call me when you wake up in the morning?”
I agreed. After hanging up, I placed the phone on the giant pillow next to me. The one with Rascal’s head on the corner instead of Gage’s. I reached for the lamp and then changed my mind. The house seemed emptier than it had since his leaving, and I was glad, not for the first time, of the bodyguard who was less than a minute and a panic button away.
Chapter 12
Kicked back in the desk chair, feet propped on an open drawer, Gage assaulted the guitar strings. When the high E snapped, he welcomed the sting to his hand. Ignoring the hanging string, he continued, the beat battering his eardrums through the headphones.
The blinking of his phone caught his eye. He couldn’t deal with Scar. Worry, however, had him setting aside the instrument and swinging his legs to the floor. He didn’t want to disregard her reaching out in an emergency situation.
Instead of a text from Scar, he found one from Colt. Two words. Call. Me.
And he was just mad enough to do that. Carrying the phone, he marched down the hall since there was little or no signal in the ‘guest’ rooms as they were called.
Pacing just outside the common room, he glared at the twinkling stars and placed the call.
Mid ring, Colt answered with a “What the hell is going on?”
So Scarlette had gone running to Colt, either literally or with a phone call. The knowledge cut like a knife and twisted in his gut. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what? Have you lost your fucking mind? Why the hell would you do this shit to Scarlette?”
“The second I’m out of here you better watch yourself. I’m coming for you! I will fuck you up, motherfucker!”
“You know I’m not even home, right? There was a cancellation in the metal tour that passed on us during your last rehab stint and we’re on it.”
Fuck. Fuck so many things.
“Fire Flight?” Immediately after kicking him out, they’d gone on tour?
“Are you hearing what I’m saying? Seth is teaching her guitar. Seth! Not fucking me! Scarlette is a fucking mess. You need to fix this shit now!”
His relief upon knowing the truth was as great as his guilt. The jealousy didn’t completely subside. How did Colt know there was a mess? Obviously because she called him. And that, right there, was something he couldn’t seem to get past. The freaky friendship she and Colt had. The hate-one-minute-and-best-friends-next-minute rapport they had.
Inhaling a calming breath of night air, he ended the call. Fuck Colt. Fuck Scarlette. Fuck this shit that was his life. If he walked out now, he could… But no. He was learning to handle his shit. To not let his emotions fuck up his life. And walking out of here would screw up everything.
Chapter 13
I was drifting into an exhausted doze when the pillow next to me vibrated, and Rascal picked up his head. My heart pounded as I pulled up the message.
Gage
You awake?
12:22 AM
Almost immediately, he called. Continuing to hold the phone, I watched his face flash on the screen until the call routed automatically to voicemail. When a chime indicated a message left, I hastily put the speaker to my ear.
‘I’m sorry. So, so sorry. If you’re awake, call me.’
Holding the phone to my chest, I watched Rascal settle back down and debated dialing. It was late. From what I understood, his phone wouldn’t take or receive calls inside his room. So was he waiting about somewhere to see if I would call back? For this, I felt a niggling tug of guilt. As badly as I had wanted to hear from him, now I realized it made no difference.
It was early when he called the next morning. This time, the rings woke me from a dead sleep, and I didn’t think it through. I answered. His sincere apology and the sexy timbre of his voice in my ear further blended my mixed emotions.
“I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” And when I remained quiet, he whispered, “I fucked up, Scar. I feel like shit. Hell, I am shit. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“I know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, just below the tear ducts, which had begun weeping again.
“I wish I was there. I wish I could hold you.”
Pushing aside the covers, I sat up, drawing my legs up and curling an arm around them. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah. It does. I was wrong. Way wrong.”
“I know.”
The seconds stretched into a minute. My phone shook with an incoming text, and I ignored it while listening to his quiet breaths.
“Talk to me, Scar. Yell at me. Something.”
“It doesn’t matter. Because there’s something so screwed up about you even thinking that.” Somehow, I forced the next words out. “This isn’t going to work. We’re not going to work.”
“Don’t think like that. Okay?” His voice was raspy. As if his throat was as closed up as mine. “What you’re saying is true. And you know I know that. I told you. I fucked up. But we’re going to work. I promise you that. I promise you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can.”
I had no doubts Gage would fluctuate back and forth until I gave in. He was stubborn, but stubbornness didn’t make what he was saying true. A piece of me was afraid he would walk out of rehab. He’d done it before for much less. Right?
And so I threw him a bone. “I just need to think, okay? And Rascal needs to go out.”
Rascal picked his head up and stretched. I swung my feet to the floor and padded to the bathroom. A hellish version of myself stared from the mirror.
Finally, he spoke. “Okay, darlin’.”
And the call ended.
Chapter 14
The student center was a main artery of the campus, pulsating with laughter and chatter. These days, I dreaded happy faces and avoided crowds. However, this afternoon, I was lured by a double express latte. Mike swung open the door, and with a smile of thanks, I preceded him.
Did one ever get used to being shadowed by Rambo? At least I wasn’t the only one with my bodyguard squeezed into a chair half his size in the classrooms. In one of my classes, a young woman I had heard was a sitcom star breezed in each morning with her own burly escort. Ignoring him, the starlet always left him to take a back seat while she held court near the front of the class. I tried to follow her example but it proved impossible.
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Most days, like today, he was a visible inclusion in whatever I was doing. Swinging around with a coffee in each hand, I made my way around tables and back to him. He accepted the steaming cup from my hand with a grateful smile.
“I’ll just be a few minutes. I need to cram a bit before this next test.” Stifling a yawn, I scanned the area for an available place to study.
The fall schedule was already grueling. I hadn’t been able to scrounge together everything needed to be considered for admission to Bastyr in time. Instead, I’d begun an accredited school of allopathic studies here in L.A. and shuttled between it, USC, and clinicals. The previous night, I’d been up until the wee hours of the morning studying for mid-semester exams.
“Scarlette?”
I looked up from powering up my tablet to find Logan bearing down on me, wearing a huge smile of greeting. Great. Now I had to pull a smile from my miserable soul. “Hey.”
“How’s it going? Surviving midterms?”
“Barely.” I skimmed my gaze down his attractive features and tried to disassociate him from Gage’s assistant and reallocate him as a friend who had helped me. A friend on Gage’s payroll. Sigh.
“Mind if I sit?”
“Not at all. I’ve got to brush up on these chemical compounds though.”
“I’ve got statistics to cram before next class.” He waved his own tablet as he lowered into the adjacent chair.
Silently, we studied until the stir of people around us indicated time was ticking down to the next hour. Slipping the tablet into my bag, I stood. “It was good seeing you. Good luck on your statistics.”
“And likewise with your…”
“Organic chemistry.”
“Right. Listen, I was going to call you in a couple of days, but since you’re here… Gage texted me to make his flight arrangements. Should I make yours too? I wasn’t sure if you were flying down and then back with him, or staying here.”
The room seemed to fade for a moment as the implication of his words settled like a lead weight. I knew his release was coming up. Since the day Gage had closed me into a cab bound for my flight out of Utah, a mental clock had ticked in my head. The maximum estimated time of treatment versus the least. And the present time was now somewhere in the middle. We had only spoken a few times in a month. But regardless, I’d expected a phone call or at the least, a text when he had a specific release date.
Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance Page 6