At first, I hadn’t known how to respond to that, but I wanted her in my life.
I didn’t understand it, but the little bit of time I got to talk to her were the best moments of my day.
So we’d become friends. I hadn’t had a real friend like her in a long time. Sure, my bandmates were my friends. But there wasn’t a single person I’d confided in since Tracey. And as much as I wanted Mac to be that person, I couldn’t let her be. I had “surface” friends. They knew what I wanted them to know.
She’d told me about being a PI, and some of the cases she’s worked on (without names or details, of course). She’d asked me about playing bass guitar and then suggested I play for her (I had). She admitted she’d always been a fan, but Andrew hated rock music so she could only listen in her car or at work. She’d asked me about my life and my reasons for being a musician, but I’d given her as little answers as I could before I turned the questions back to her.
It was because of her that I now lay in my bunk, bringing up Google to type in the name I hadn’t allowed myself to search for in years. I promised myself when I left Tennessee I would leave her behind, and I had. Until now.
Mac was a private investigator. She found people for a living.
She could find Tracey.
I hadn’t asked her, because that would mean having to talk about my past.
My fingers hovered over the search bar. In the past, the only thing I’d found by doing this exact thing was newspaper articles and television news reports from the time when she disappeared. People in our town had gone out searching for her for days. Me, my mom, my dad, her friends, and her boyfriend had led the searches. It had been a time of complete calm in our household. For once, my dad wasn’t a total asshole. He didn’t touch my mom at all other than to console her. While I’d steered clear of him, he hadn’t instigated shit with me. Go figure, the one time he’d acted like a parent was the time his daughter went missing.
Nicholas, her boyfriend, had promised he never knew of any plans of hers to leave, and her friends said the same. So to us, that meant something had happened to her.
But after searching for weeks, it was like she had vanished into thin air. There wasn’t a single sign of her anywhere. So slowly over time, the searching had stopped until everyone moved on.
Except us.
There was no moving on from that.
Tracey Ann Hartwell, I typed into the search bar. My finger hovered over the search button, my heart pounding in my chest. None of the people that ‘knew’ me knew that Hartwell was my last name. Or used to be my last name. If I had my way, no one would ever associate me with that name again.
I could hear the sounds of Natalie out in the kitchen/living room area of the bus. April and Beau were in their bedroom with Olivia, and I could hear the sounds of Robbie’s favorite video game. The road reverberated under me, the slight tremor of the tires on the pavement a reminder of where we headed. Life continued around me while I hovered my finger over a button that could change my life. Again.
I closed my eyes and pressed the button, squeezing them closed until I was sure the results were probably up. I cracked open one eye and then the other. My fingers shook as I scrolled down the page, seeing the familiar stories that I’d read so many times I could recite them verbatim.
After a few minutes of seeing the same thing I’d seen the last time I did this, I exited Google and blew out a frustrated breath. I shouldn’t be surprised I got nowhere. It had been years. It wasn’t like Tracey would just reappear. She could’ve changed her name like I did. She could be in another country.
Or…she could be dead. My worst nightmare.
What if someone took her and held her hostage? What if someone brainwashed her? What if she didn’t know who she was? What if she was part of some sting they uncovered and she ended up on Dateline or 20/20?
Would I recognize her?
I knew without a doubt that no matter what anyone might’ve done, I’d know my sister. She was the other part of me—my better half.
The fear that she could’ve been hurt daily or think we didn’t care about her was what kept me wanting to find out anything about what had happened to her.
The screen flashed and then Mackenzie’s number came on the screen. We’d already talked today, so it made me instantly worried. I hit the button and put the phone to my ear.
“Mac.” I tried to ignore the twisting in my gut.
“Hey.” Her voice was low like she was hiding from something. Or someone.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I wanted to hear your voice.”
My chest bloomed with something I refused to think too deeply about. “Why are you talking so low? Is he there?”
“No. He’s at work, and I just got home.” Mac cleared her throat. “I feel like I’m doing something wrong, talking to you.”
“We’re friends, Mac.”
“But he wouldn’t like it.”
“Does he like you to have any friends?”
She was silent, and I knew I struck a nerve.
“Tell me about how you guys got together.” I didn’t want to know this information, but I figured trying to understand what made this guy tick would only help me in the end. Because come hell or high water, she was going to get away from him.
She laughed, the high pitched, infectious sound making my insides tremble. It was so rare for her to laugh and seem genuinely happy. “You don’t want to know that, do you, Tan?”
“No, I don’t want to know, but I do want to keep talking to you.”
“We don’t have to talk about him. Tell me about playing. Did you guys rehearse your new song?”
Beau and Bex had written a new song titled “Grounded,” and though we weren’t ready to play it live, we’d been practicing to show our label when we went to New York at the end of our tour.
“Yes. It’s a great song. I play a lot in it and have a solo, so it’s perfect.”
Mac sighed. “I want to see you live.”
My heart thumped at her words. “I would like that, Mac.”
“Maybe someday.” Her voice lowered, the words barely audible, and I knew he’d never let her. “Will you play for me?”
“We’re on the road, and I’m hiding in my bunk.” I wished, not for the first time, that I had a picture of her. Inspiration hit me, and I opened up Facebook. I had an account, though I only posted band things. I typed in her name and waited.
“What’s the next stop?”
“We’re headed to Philadelphia for two sold-out shows.”
“Oooh.” Mac laughed. “Those should be good for a few hundred bras.”
A laugh burst from my mouth so fast I couldn’t contain it. “Someone’s been on social media.”
Funny since the search of her name returned nothing, as I suspected.
“Let’s see…” I heard Mac clicking keys. “Tanner Hart has some serious talent, but not just on the stage. He took me back to his room and…”
“Stop.” I interrupted her, knowing it was Aster’s post she read.
“What?” Laughter still tinged her tone. “You don’t like to read about the size of your manhood and the way that you…”
“No.” It sounded all wrong, Mac talking about my conquests like that. It made me feel…dirty. Horrible. Like the whore I was.
“I’m sorry.” The amusement in her voice disappeared. “I was teasing you.”
“I know. I want you to know something, Mac…”
“It’s none of my business.” She interrupted. “We’re friends. Hell, I’m nothing but a mess. If I were you, I’d totally live it up, too.”
But I want it to be your business. “That’s not it, Mac. I don’t mind you ribbing me about it. I’m just…embarrassed.”
“Why? You’re a hot guy…” She broke off, silence enveloping both of us. Mackenzie said I was hot. Well, shit, I knew what women thought of me, but I didn’t know what Mackenzie thought of me. Now I did.
I decided to give the
teasing back to her. “You think I’m a hot guy, do you Mac?”
“Tanner.” I loved the sound of her laughter. “Give me a break. You know you’re hot. You have grown women throwing their underwear at you on stage.”
“But I don’t care about them.” I didn’t. There wasn’t a single female in my life who made me want to be a better person.
Until now.
“That’s because you haven’t met the one to knock you on your ass yet.”
A loud thump came across the line, followed by the clinking sound of something hitting a hard surface. She cursed, and my stomach fell to my feet.
“What happened?”
“I dropped a glass on my toe. Shit, that hurt. But I’m okay.”
“Did it break?” All I could think of was her asshole boyfriend coming home and beating her for not getting all the glass cleaned up to his specifications.
“No, thank goodness.”
“I get home in a few weeks. Will you find a way to come over and see us play? We’re doing a Welcome Home concert once we return.”
Mac sighed. “I would love that. Keep me updated, okay? I’ll see if I can swing it.”
“I think Tania needs her PI to do some research on the other coast.”
She laughed again. “That may work. Tanner, you know what?”
“What?” I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. I allowed her soft voice to infiltrate my heart, even though I knew this was nothing but a disaster waiting to happen. But one day I’d get her away from that asshole and then I could show her how life should be lived.
“You’re a great guy.”
I snorted. “I’m an asshole, Mac, but thanks for pumping my ego a little bit. You know it isn’t quite big enough already.”
“I don’t believe that for a second, Mr. Hart. I think it’s a persona you’ve spent a lot of time building.”
Well shit. How did a girl who barely knew me read through me so easily?
When I didn’t respond, she began talking again. “Tanner? I have some work to do before Andrew gets home.” I bit my lip not to call him Asshole at her remark. “Next time we talk, can you do something for me?”
Anything, I wanted to respond. I sat up so fast I hit my head on the “roof” of my bunk and cursed under my breath. Anything? Was that true? Did I mean that? I didn’t do anything for, well…anyone.
Rubbing the spot on my head where I’d hit it, I turned my attention back to the gorgeous woman on the phone. “What’s that?” I forced myself to be nonchalant.
“Can you tell me about you?”
Dread free fell through my body, settling like a rock in the pit of my stomach. She didn’t want to know about me. I didn’t want her to know about me.
“Mac.” It was the only thing I could force my mouth to say.
“We’re friends, right Tanner? You know some embarrassing shit about me.”
She was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. “First of all, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Mac. Don’t say that. You don’t do anything to deserve getting struck by the person who says he loves you.”
She was quiet, so I continued. “There’s so much shit, Mac. So many things that I’ve never told anyone.”
“I know. You have this persona that you’re nothing more than a playboy rock star, but I don’t buy it for a second. A playboy rock star doesn’t intervene with a perfect stranger. A playboy rock star doesn’t go so far to find her information, and then leave his band and drive to that same stranger’s house to make sure she’s okay. He also doesn’t contact her every day and become her friend without some heart. There’s a reason why the only thing anyone ever talks about on social media is the size of your manhood. It’s what you want people to focus on so they don’t see the real you.”
Motherfucking hell.
“Do you have a minute now? I know you have to go…”
“Yes.” Her answer came automatically. “I can do a few things for work while we talk if you don’t mind.”
Shut up, Tanner. Don’t do this. You can’t! My subconscious screamed at me. I stared up at the carpeted roof of my bunk. Silence surrounded me; the only sound was the road beneath me.
“I have a twin sister.” To anyone else, this would be the bare minimum of information about someone. To me, it was everything. No one knew about Tracey.
“Wow! That’s awesome! I always wanted a twin.”
It wasn’t awesome. It was heart-wrenching, painful, and the most agonizing thing I could tell her about. “She’s been missing since we were sixteen years old.”
Mac sucked in a breath. “What? Oh, Tanner. I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” I couldn’t stand sympathy.
“What happened?”
“I can’t get into all of the details right now.” I cleared my throat, the ball of emotion stuck there, unmoving, despite my attempt to rid myself of it. “But, you’re a private investigator. No one has been able to find anything about her in years. Years. I can’t believe that’s possible. I’ll pay you, Mac…I just—”
“You will not pay me.” Mac interrupted. “Of course I’ll help you. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do. But you’re going to have to give me a little more information so I can begin, okay?”
I nodded and then realized I hadn’t said anything. “I know. I can’t right now.”
“Give me her name and date of birth.” Mac’s voice was soft and soothing. “I’ll start with that.”
“Tracey Ann Hartwell.” I knew the question was coming. “I-I changed my name after I left Tennessee.” As far as I was concerned, the last name Hartwell was buried with my mother, never to be resurrected again.
“Makes sense.” Her voice stayed neutral, and I found myself wondering what she thought about all of this, but I was too afraid to ask.
I wasn’t sure what I had done or why I decided today was the day to find out about Tracey, but I was afraid I’d started a ball rolling that couldn’t be stopped.
Chapter Six
Mackenzie
I lied to Tanner Hart.
Andrew wasn’t coming home tonight. He was on overnights—as he was this whole month. I always had work I could do, but that wasn’t why I’d gotten off of the phone. I loved talking to Tanner on the phone, but he made me feel things I wasn’t sure how to feel.
Tanner turned my entire world upside down the second he burst into our hotel room and became the only knight in sexy armor I’d ever known. Just thinking his name made something funny happen to my insides. After all, he was the hottest guy in rock music. And yes, I had told him that. Well, kind of. But he was my friend. He wanted to be my friend.
I knew I didn’t deserve a friend like him.
What I deserved was what I already had, and sometimes I wondered why Andrew bothered with me anymore.
Andrew has loved me for years. Just Andrew. He’d taken care of me when no one else would. I owed him everything. Everything good happened to me because of him. I remembered the day we met like it was yesterday. Him, the star track runner and me, the studious nerd who never got the time of day from anyone. Except Andrew. He always made me feel special.
He loved me.
Didn’t he?
Tanner said he didn’t, but he also didn’t know Andrew the way I did. He only saw the bad side of Andrew, and there were many facets to that complicated man. He didn’t know the times Andrew had held my hand as I cried over a case or the support he’d given me through every tough time I’d had as an adult.
Tanner had become my friend, and I looked forward to the minutes we talked every day. The second my phone would ding, and I’d see ‘Tania’ on the screen, I’d smile.
Now he needed my help.
He had a sister, and she’d been missing for a long time. I’d started to piece together what made this man tick, and if my hunch was correct, Tracey had been a vital part of his life before she disappeared, and the fact that there was no resolution had shaped the man Tanner
had become. The fact that he’d changed his name after leaving Tennessee meant whatever happened in their life, he didn’t want it to be dredged up. Which was also why no dirt had ever been discovered on the man, even after he’d become the sex symbol of rock music.
I sat for a long time after we hung up, staring at the blank screen of my phone. I flexed the fingers of my sore arm, glad the pain wasn’t as bad today. My bruises were almost gone, and Andrew had been so sweet. Attentive. Like the old Andrew.
I thought back to yesterday afternoon when I’d gotten home from work. It had been a long and exhausting day. I’d taken on two more clients despite the fact that my caseload was already heavy enough. Andrew had been home even though he was technically on the clock. He’d stopped me at the door and taken my purse from me. Instead of ripples of fear, I’d felt desire. Then when he undressed me and slid inside me on our couch, I’d allowed myself to believe that things would be okay. He’d whispered words of love and forgiveness while we had sex.
He forgave me for spending the night in Tanner’s room and for making him mad.
He forgot about me making him so angry he had to let it out.
He loved me.
I shook my head and stood, making my way to my home office so I could start the search for Tanner’s sister. Our light-hearted conversation replayed in my head, making me laugh out loud. I’d read a lot about him in the last week, most of it in gossip rags and on social media. The “dirt” from Aster that I’d ribbed him about didn’t bother me.
No. That was another lie.
It did bother me, but I didn’t have any claim on what he did.
I knew I read him correctly and that the persona he showed to the world wasn’t the true him.
He trusted me with this information on his sister.
I had a feeling that was huge.
I started with the missing persons’ database, typing in her name and date of birth. A picture of her popped up, and I stared at the young face that was so much like Tanner’s. It must’ve been a yearbook photo because the background was plain and the pose was a classic school picture pose.
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