Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3

by Michelle Mankin

  “Hey, we’re switching rooms, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  “I already had your things moved into the other room.” Danny brushed by her into the room.

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “Yours is number one.”

  She padded out on bare feet into the carpeted hallway. “Where am I going again?” she asked in confusion.

  He guided her down the hall to a room at the very end and let her in. “Night, Samantha.” Under his breath, Danny whispered, “Tomorrow’s not going to be a good day,” and closed the door behind her.

  Tired, Sam flopped face first down onto the bed. A shower would have to wait until the morning. She was wiped. As she drifted off, she felt vaguely uneasy, but the thought flitted around the edges of her consciousness and then slipped into oblivion.

  A BLOOD CURDLING scream yanked Chris from sleep. He sat up, disoriented, when a second scream emanated from behind the connecting door. Holy shit. It was Sara. His heart pounding, he bolted out of bed and threw open the door.

  Concerned about a possible intruder, he quickly scanned the room, but Sara was alone. She was sitting in the middle of her bed with her head tucked down to her chest, her arms wrapped around her body. A creepy, weird-you- out keening sound was coming from her throat.

  What the hell? Flipping on the bedside lamp, he made a more thorough examination of the suite, including the bathroom, but by this point he wasn’t expecting to find anyone.

  Chris went back to Sara who was quiet now but hadn’t moved. She seemed really out of it and was rubbing her palms on her legs as if she was trying to wipe something off of them. Confused, he tilted his head to the side, totally baffled by her bizarre behavior.

  “Why Papa? Why?” Sara whispered.

  His brow creased. Apparently, there was much more to Sara’s past than she’d told him. It obviously involved her father, and whatever it was he knew in his gut, it was bad… real bad.

  He sank down on the mattress beside her. Her grey eyes seemed unfocused, and her face was wet with tears. He cleared his throat. “Sara. It’s ok. I’m here.” He scooted behind her and pulled her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms firmly around her. Murmuring more reassurances in her ear, he stroked her hair.

  After what felt like an eternity, she peered over her shoulder at him. Her expression was guarded. “I’m ok.” She leaned forward in an apparent attempt to get out of his embrace.

  Chris hauled her back. He was sick of her running away from him every time he got close. Whatever the hell this was, he was sure that it was the key to everything.

  He turned her toward him, cradling her head against his chest. He rubbed her back the same way he had on the gondola ride. “Stop fighting me, Sara,” he whispered.

  For a while, she didn’t respond, but eventually her body relaxed against his. She buried her head deeper into his shoulder and nestled her hands softly against his chest. He interpreted the simple movement as proof that she was letting down her guard with him if only just a little. Now if only he could get her to trust him enough to open up.

  Sara’s breathing became regular and for a moment Chris thought she’d fallen asleep, but then he felt her hand sliding down his chest. Her palm was warm against his bare skin and he flinched when she slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. “No,” he said, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from going further. “Sara. Stop. What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing? I can feel you, Chris. You want this. It’s why we’re here, right?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not right now. Not like this when you’re so upset. I want it to mean something. I’m not looking for casual sex.”

  He felt her muscles tense right before she shot out of the bed. He immediately felt the loss of her heat.

  “Well, that’s all I’m offering.” Sara stood at the foot of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest and glared at him. “You can take it or leave it. But I guarantee if you don’t, it’ll be your loss.”

  The tension grew as they stared at one another. Sara was the first to look away, but not before he saw a tear track down her cheek. The woman was a walking contradiction. Tough as nails on the surface, but fragile as a china doll on the inside. “I’m not giving up on having more than that with you.” He moved to her side and put his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened again but didn’t pull away. He gently brushed the back of his fingers across her wet cheek. “Oh, Sara, beautiful Sara…what happened with your father?”

  She was out of his arms in a flash. One minute she was there and the next she stood in the far corner of the room, glaring and closed off again. She had one arm around her waist like her stomach hurt, and with the other she pointed at the door. “Get out, Chris. Leave me alone. I want you out of my room.”

  “I’m not leaving you in this state.” Expression hard, Chris shook his head and started toward her.

  “Go. I’m telling you…” She trailed off as he reached her and threaded his arms around her waist.

  “No.” His eyes locked on hers.

  “Please,” she begged, bottom lip trembling.

  To his ears the word sounded less like a dismissal and more like a plea for help. Her eyes were huge. She seemed spooked as shit. No way was he leaving. Even though both her arms still hung limp at her sides, Chris drew her closer. “I’m not going anywhere. Shh, Sara,” he soothed and lifted her up and carried her back to the bed. “Just sleep. Rest. We can talk when you’re ready.”

  JR BOUNDED UP the stairs to the B&B at seven the next morning. He had the ring in his pocket and couldn’t wait to see the expression on Sam’s face when he proposed. With the tour coming up, he’d be away for days and even sometimes weeks at a time. He’d never been a possessive guy before but readily admitted he was where she was concerned. He wanted all the other guys to know that she was his and unavailable. He also wanted her to have a tangible symbol of his total and complete commitment to her. He hated how his reputation worried her.

  At her door he stopped, surprised to find it cracked open. He entered and immediately spotted the dress she’d worn from the night before crumpled in a heap on the floor, a lacy black bra and thong panties on top of it. His eyes widened. He wished it had been his hands instead of hers peeling that sexy lingerie off last night. Soon. JR shook his head. Very soon.

  It struck him as a little odd that she’d left them there. She was kind of a neat freak. He must have underestimated how tired she had been.

  Hearing muffled singing in the shower, he lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door when he heard a clattering sound behind him. Swiveling around, he was surprised to find Danny standing in the doorway behind him with a breakfast tray in his hands. His brows turned down. What the hell was going on? For a moment, like an idiot, he didn’t get it. He glanced at the pile of clothes and then at Danny. The truth smacked him like a cement wrecking ball.

  She’d slept with Danny last night. The thought of Danny’s hands on her undressing her, touching her naked skin made him shake with jealous rage. Every muscle in his body tensed. A wave of anger engulfed him. To think he’d turned her down last night, wanting to preserve her innocence. What a fool he’d been.

  “You piece of shit!” JR turned toward Danny, eyes blazing.

  “Hey, we’re all consenting adults.” Danny set down the silver tray, hands held up defensively in front of his chest. “You don’t own her, JR.”

  JR felt like he was going to be physically ill. He’d really fallen for Samantha. Hard. He had thought she was so different from all the other women he’d been with. He’d bought into her naiveté, but obviously he’d been duped. Who knew the countless number of men who’d already had a piece of her? She was probably just as big a player as her sister.

  His fingers itched to punch something… someone in particular. He advanced toward Danny with a menacing growl.

  “Now wait a minute, JR. I didn’t realize you two were that serious.”


  “Bullshit! I told you the night at the Rickshaw to keep away from her,” he shouted, shoving Danny into the wall with a forearm under his chin. One of the pictures fell off and crashed to the floor. The water in the shower shut off. JR jerked his head around. He was so angry he didn’t know what he would do if he saw her right now. He gave Danny another hard shove. “I suggest you stay the hell away from me or I just might have to go ahead with my first instinct and separate your head from your body.” Tossing one last heartsick glance in the direction of the shower, he turned abruptly and stormed away.

  SAM HAD BEEN gripping her cell phone so tightly that her palm bore an indentation from the plastic cover. Pointlessly, she checked again to make sure the ringer was on. JR hadn’t called and wasn’t responding to any of her attempts to reach him. It was nine thirty. He should have been here two hours ago. Desperate for information, she decided to go ask Danny.

  No one answered when she knocked on his door. Tears began to burn her eyes. Nagging fears and doubts exponentially grew and multiplied. Like a hydra from Greek mythology, each time she severed one, two more rose up to take its place.

  Back in her frilly white on white themed bedroom, she tried to think who else she could call. Her hand shook as she hit redial on Sara’s number again, but it went directly to voicemail like all of her previous attempts. Scrolling through her contacts, she located Keith’s number. With a resigned sigh, she hit send. He answered on the first ring.

  “Geez, Samantha what were you thinking?” Keith demanded in an accusatory tone.

  “Huh? What do you mean?” she stuttered, twisting the chenille bedspread self-consciously. “Is JR there with you?” Dread made her stomach feel like it was filled with ice. “Can I talk to him please?” she managed to ask.

  “Sorry, Sam. He doesn’t want to talk to you and I really don’t blame him. I mean, what’s there to say, anyway? Listen I gotta go. Don’t call him anymore, ok?”

  Her hands trembling, she dropped the phone. Tears she’d held at bay began tracking down her face one after the other. She was at a total loss. One thing was absolutely clear, though. It was over.

  JR didn’t want her. Remembering how her turned her down last night, she wondered if he ever really had. Maybe she wasn’t pretty enough. More likely her inexperience had been a big turnoff for him. She couldn’t believe how badly his rejection hurt. Her skin burned and her abdomen ached like she’d done too many sit ups. Curling into a tight ball, she buried her head in her pillow.

  The sun on her face woke her up several hours later. Looking out the window, she guessed it to be around noon. Her cell phone buzzed on silent mode. Momentarily hopeful, her heart fell when she glanced at the caller display. It wasn’t him. She pressed her lips together, chastising herself for getting her foolish hopes up. If she did that every time the phone rang, she’d quickly become a nervous wreck.

  “Sara,” she sobbed.

  “What’s going on? You sound terrible. Have you been crying?”

  Sam nodded even though her sister couldn’t see her. “JR… he…” her voice cracked and she had to swallow several times in a row before she could continue. “Something’s happened. I don’t know what, but he won’t even talk to me. It’s over between us.”

  “Oh, Sam.” The line was silent for a moment. “I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry. He’s an idiot.”

  “Yesterday was so perfect. We went sightseeing. I met his mother and then we went dancing. Everything was fine. I had hoped...”

  “Do I need to come get you?”

  “No. I’m a big girl.” Sam forced her tone to be even. “I can take care of myself. I’ll call Harbour Air and get on standby for an earlier flight.”

  “Good. I’m almost back in Vancouver myself. I’ll meet you at the terminal. Call me before you take off.”

  “Wait a minute, Sara. I thought you were going out to Whistler with Chris.”

  “I did, but things didn’t work out.” Sara’s tone was as even as the one Sam had employed. “Guys suck. I love you Samantha Anne. I’ll see you soon.”

  TOO MUCH IDLE time, Sara thought as she waited for Sam in the Harbour Air lounge. Her fingers drummed restlessly on the chrome armrest. Pulling off her gloves, her mind wandered back to earlier that morning.

  She’d awakened in Chris’ arms, her back nestled against his warmth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly or felt so safe.

  Easing out of his embrace, she rose slowly being careful not to jostle the bed. She watched him as he slept, admiring his rugged good looks. Age had only added depth and dimension to an already appealing face.

  Sara noticed the corner of his mouth was curved up as if something had amused him. She smiled wistfully. Even in his sleep, he had that irresistible sardonic thing going on. The man appealed to her on so many levels. She smirked. If he woke up and caught her staring, he would never let her live it down.

  She’d remembered how tenderly he had stroked her hair until she’d fallen asleep. How he’d refused to take advantage of her weakness. No man had ever treated her with such respect. Like what was inside of her mattered most. He was a riddle that she couldn’t seem to solve.

  Chris Alex, the sneaky bastard, was trying to thaw his way into her cold dead heart. But she couldn’t let him. He didn’t realize what he would find when he got inside. Her genes were defective, the union of a harlot and a killer. No wonder she had made such a mess of her life.

  And now that killer, her father, was up for parole again. Twice he’d been denied, but this time it looked like it might be different. Leann’s update the other night indicated that the lawyers were worried. So was she. Thus the return of the nightmares.

  She glanced down one last time at Chris’ sleeping form while she quietly dressed. He made her wish for things that could never be. She was strongly tempted to climb back into bed with him, to tell him everything, to let him take care of her. She shook her head to clear it from that kind of thinking. She couldn’t undo all the horrible choices she’d made before now, but for once in her life she was going to make the right one. And that was to leave. Chris deserved better than her, someone who wasn’t broken.

  There. Her brain had won the tug of war with her heart.

  Taking a deep breath, Sara moved quickly around the suite, gathering the few things she’d taken out and stuffing them back into her roller bag. Tears pricking her eyes, she softly closed the door and moved down the hall to the elevator.

  SARA HAD GIVEN up trying to sort through the tangled mess by the time she heard her sister’s flight number called. Heading outside to the gate, she waited for Sam to disembark. When she saw her cross the dock, Sara’s brow creased. The breakup had exacted a heavy toll that was evident in the way Sam carried herself. No easy smile. No spring in her step. No sparkle in her eyes.

  “Hey Munchkin,” Sara said, embracing her. “How are you holding up?”

  “Sara,” she rasped, clinging to her sister for a long moment. “Can we please just get out of here?”

  “You bet. I’ve got a taxi waiting at the curb.”

  Back at the hotel, Sara sent Sam ahead to the room with orders to take a hot bath. Meanwhile, she went next door to the supermarket and picked up a couple of cartons of high calorie, low nutritional value therapy. Desperate times called for desperate measures, she mused. When she returned, she called out, “I’m back. I’ve got triple chocolate chip.”

  A cloud of steam escaped from the bathroom as Sam shuffled out in a robe and slippers, her hair up in a towel. She flopped on the sofa and flicked on the television. “Duck Dynasty?”

  “Absolutely. Who needs men, right?”

  By the time they’d finished the ice cream and a couple of episodes of their favorite reality program, Sam’s eyes had drifted shut. Sara got up and threw away the empty cartons. Kneeling beside the sofa, she squeezed her sister’s hand. Sam opened her eyes, giving her a sleepy stare.

  “I’ve gotta go if I’m gonna make my flight,” Sara said, strok
ing her hair. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok? I can wait for the eight thirty one in the morning.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Sam assured her. “That would be cutting it too close. You won’t have time to rehearse before the show.”

  Sara gave her a measured stare. “Are you sure, Munchkin?”

  “Yes. Git,” she ordered, managing a wan smile. “And tell Cash hi for me.”

  Sam didn’t realize that she had drifted back off until the banging on the hotel door jarred her rudely from sleep.

  “Sara! Open this door!”

  Bother. It was Chris.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, barging into the apartment, visibly irritated. Sam had never seen him so frazzled. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, sporting a half day’s scruff and his normally perfect coif a chaotic tangle.

  “She’s gone,” Sam informed him, glancing at her watch. “You missed her by over two hours.”

  “Gone where?” he asked, clearly deflated.

  “Back to Texas. She has a concert with Cash Beaumont at Billy Bob’s tomorrow. She didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Chris flopped down in the chair, running his hands wearily across his face. “That’s the thing about your sister. I can’t get closer than arm’s length with her.”

  That’s Sara, alright, she thought. “I understand things aren’t working out between you two.”

  “Is that all she told you?” he asked with a frustrated sigh.

  Sam nodded.

  “There’s a little more to it than that.” Chris proceeded to bring her up to speed with an edited for content account of the weekend. “I really care about her,” he confided. “But it’s really wearing me out trying to figure out what’s going on here.”