The Stage (Phoenix Rising #1)

by Shelby Rebecca

  “Please give it to me.” I reach my hand out farther.

  “Just—do what I say for once. Then you can get away from me, okay? Lean forward.”

  When I do, I feel his warm breath as he wraps the jacket around my shoulders. I take a deep breath. It smells of him; cologne and Kolton. All man. Gently, he coaxes me to put my arms in. It makes my heart ache and by breasts feel heavy with need. He’s so gentle with me, like I’m a porcelain doll with a hairline crack.

  He cautiously moves my hair off my face and pulls the length of my hair out of the back of the jacket. I watch his long fingers as he feeds the zipper in, moving it slowly up my front. I’m tingling and aching for him again. “I’ll think about your request,” he says, his voice soft, controlled. “But the team you’re on at the end of next week will be up to me.”

  “I’m moving out of your apartment,” I say. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not staying here under his control anymore.

  “What about Riley?” he asks. “Deloris is my employee and she’s going to take care of Riley in my apartment.” He knows I have nothing. I can’t really leave. He knows I need him.

  “It’s just a few more weeks until I go back to Sac. What are you going to do then?” His jaw twitches and he glares at me.

  “You’ll have to come back. It’s just a few months off. Deloris will be with you.” He’s trying to hide it, but looks worried about it.

  “I will never trust you, Kolton. Never,” I say, and watch his face change in front of me. I know that hurts him. “Because you’re an asshole—a controlling asshole,” I say, forcing myself away from the heat of his body. I purposely sever the draw of my soul to his, find the door handle and bolt out. My heels clicking as I run atop the concrete floor of the parking garage. I’m frantically tapping the button for the elevator when I hear him approaching me from behind.

  I keep my back to him. When the doors open, I step inside. As the doors are closing behind me, I turn and catch a glimpse of Kolton standing there, helplessly watching me leave. The look on his face is pure conflict, pain, and remorse.

  The doors press together, closing him out, and I’m pulled upward. What have we done? I’m drenched in his scent, lips swollen and body singing from his hands all over me. Do I even want to try and understand him when I can barely understand myself? He’ll burn me. Consume me. I know I have to protect myself. But with every interaction, he makes it harder and harder to do.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Visitor

  When I walk into the foyer, I smell the remnants of tonight’s dinner, and it makes my stomach rumble. From the front door, I see that Riley’s door is shut. It’s pretty late, so I bet she’s already asleep. I make my way toward the kitchen and find Deloris in the family room, sitting on the couch wearing her house clothes and robe reading a book.

  “How’d it go?” She asks, looking up from her pages.

  “I’m still on the show,” I say, numbly. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Mexican food,” she tells me. “I made you a plate with beans instead of meat. It’s in the microwave.”

  I shuffle over and beep the microwave, listening to my food sizzle—kind of like my mood.

  “Thank you, Deloris.” My voice cracking as I sit down at the breakfast bar with my hot plate.

  “What’s wrong, Mia?” she asks, with genuine concern. “Is the show getting to you?”

  “It was a rough night,” I answer, wiping a tear off my cheek.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, putting her book down and pulling out the chair next to mine.

  “I think I’m going to be moved off Kolton’s team next week,” I explain after she settles into her chair.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “There’s some jealousy. I almost got into a fight today backstage.”

  “Oh, my goodness! That’s horrible. Do you want to take off your coat?” she coaxes me.

  “I can’t,” I say, which turns my previous whine into full-blown sobs.

  “Why not?” she asks, putting her arm across my shoulder.

  “Kolton—” sob, sob, “ripped my—” sob sob, “shirt open,” I stutter out.

  “He what?” she asks, incredulously. “Did he hurt you?” Her posture changes, looking angry and determined.

  “No. He—we were kissing. He ripped my shirt, but then he pushed me away.”

  “Oh, my,” she says. “Mia, did he force himself on you?”

  “No, I got out of my seat. I wanted him to kiss me.”

  “Is this why the other people are jealous? Do they know?”

  “People are suspicious. They think I’m cheating. But I didn’t want any of this. I mean, I am grateful for you and for this place to live so you can help with Riley.”

  “Of course, of course. This isn’t your fault, Mia,” she soothes, pulling me into a warm, grandma-type hug. I sink into her as she pats my back. When I do, I know I’ve missed this, being hugged; having someone to talk to about my troubles. “Mia, I think he pushed you away because he cares for you. He was probably shocked at what he’d done and may have been ashamed of himself.”

  “You think that’s it?” I ask, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

  “Yes, or he probably would’ve kept going. You two might have gone too far. And, with him being your coach, that would be inappropriate. What he’s done so far, kissing you at all, breaks his contract. It breaks yours, too, right?”

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “Is it just that he hurt your feelings?”

  “He confuses me,” I answer as she walks over to the side table and brings back a tissue for me to blow my nose.

  “I’m sure he does. Bringing you to his house, hiring me. He’s very focused on your needs and wants to take care of everything. It would be hard to read his intentions, but you need to focus on yourself, Mia. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to; even if he says he’ll take all of this from you for not doing things with him.”

  “No, it’s not like that.” At that, her eyebrows rise. “I wanted to,” I affirm. “I’ve never, ever acted like that before with a guy. It’s like—we couldn’t help ourselves.”

  “So, maybe it would be better if you weren’t on his team, then,” she offers.

  “You’re right. I told him the same thing before I came up here. I just wonder if he’ll—if me and Riley will be on our own. She’s so attached to you. That’s something I hadn’t planned for. That she’d start to love you.”

  “Oh, no, honey. You don’t have to worry about losing me. He’s paid me all the way up until the finals in December.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, and if he decides he doesn’t want you to stay here anymore, well then, you can stay at my apartment. It’s not as nice, but it’s homey. You and Riley would have to share a room, but, after that, you’ll probably have a whole lot more options, and then we can work out a fee for my services that works with your income.”

  “He said that I couldn’t move out. That you were told to take care of Riley here.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but I’ll do what works best for you. It sounds like he doesn’t want you to go. Just know you have options.” I nod my head and my stomach rumbles. She takes my food back to the microwave and beeps several times. As I listen to the glass plate turn, I think about him touching me. A shiver runs up my spine and I touch my lips. I’ve never felt like that before. Hunger. Need. He wanted me, I know it, and I wanted him.

  As she places the newly warmed plate back down in front of me, she gives me a little side hug, and says, “I’m off to bed, now.”

  “Thank you, Deloris. It feels a lot better now that I know I won’t lose you.”

  “No, you won’t, dear,” she affirms, patting me on the back. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she adds before walking toward her bedroom just off the kitchen.

  I eat my beans and rice, drink some water, and peek in on Riley, who’s fast asleep holding her Tepig Pokémon stuffed animal.
I climb the stairs and unzip Kolton’s jacket, placing it on my bed. I walk into the bathroom and take in the damage to my shirt. My skin is still flushed and pink, my lips red and swollen from kissing. My eyes are puffy and black makeup is smeared under them. As I open the shirt, that’s when I see the red mark. It’s a hickey on my left breast. I touch it and it stings a little; it’s bright purple like the petal of a rose. And, as I examine myself further, I see another one on my neck, just behind and below my ear. I know I shouldn’t think this, but I’m glad they’re there. It makes it real.

  I haven’t had a hickey since, well, since Carlos Chavez, a boy I’d dated for a few months my freshman year in high school. That day, he’d walked me to my front door. He leaned in and kissed me, chaste at first, and when I reciprocated, he got wild, sticking his tongue in my mouth really hard. I was caught off guard as he moved his lips to my neck and sucked so hard it hurt. I’d pushed him away and refused to talk to him again after that.

  He’d called me a tease. So did Dean, my ex-boyfriend, cheater, jerk-face. He’d said I was a tease and pressured me into our first time. Then he left me when I needed him the most.

  But not Kolton. He’s been there for me. I went to him in the car; I was pulling him toward me. I hadn’t even known he’d given me hickeys. I wanted him. There was this connection, deep inside me that melded with something inside him. We’re both orphans, both survivors. Hugging Deloris today reminded me that I had many more years with my parents than Kolton did with his. I think he’s starving for love. Do any of those women he sleeps with give him anything other than physical pleasure?

  Probably not, or he’d have a wife or girlfriend. In this moment, with my shirt open, and my bare chest marked with Kolton’s fire, I want to help him heal. I know that’s not my job. I can’t even say that I’m close to healing from the emotional scars of losing my parents. But, inside him is a little boy, a parent-less little boy who survived, who is a miracle.

  After washing off the makeup and changing into my pajamas, I check my phone. There’s nothing from Kolton and my heart aches just a little. I could text him, but what would I say?

  I’m not going to contact him. Instead, I decide to go to sleep, more confused than ever, but not really angry, just willing to wait a little longer for the truth.

  * * *

  The following day I’m instructed to meet the producer, Ron, to record my new song for next week. They haven’t paired us up yet, so we have to record our songs separately until Pulse’s team is settled and I know who I’m up against. The song they’ve picked for me is “Burn” by Ellie Goulding.

  I ponder the lyrics all through my breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese while sitting at the breakfast bar with Riley. She’s humming something else when I kiss her on the head and then Devon drives me to the studio. I sing along while reading the lyrics the entire way there.

  I wonder if Kolton chose this song for me. It’s about a relationship, a bright one that everyone notices, about putting out the fires, but letting the fire take over, letting it take its course. Is that what he wants with me? God, I wish he’d talk to me.

  My day in the studio is a long one. They bring in food and we work late into the evening. Ron informs me he’s concerned because he doesn’t know who I’m paired with, or what they’ll sound like when they edit us together. He’s also heard that they might release independent versions with just one singer instead; I think that might be the better idea. Late that night, with a crick in my neck, I step into the elevator at the Wilshire Thayer.

  Riley’s already asleep when I walk in. I kick my TOMS off at the stairs and pad my way into the kitchen. I find some lasagna in the microwave and scarf it down. It’s been so long since I’ve taken a jog; I want to run off the cheese I’ve just consumed. Up in my room, I pull on my grey sports bra and shorts. I’m pulling my white T-shirt over my pony tail when the doorbell rings.

  I jump. Someone’s at the door. Someone’s at the door? Who could be here this time of night?

  As I start down the angled staircase, Deloris is opening the door. “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “Who are you?” asks a woman with an English accent. I peer over the edge of the staircase above them.

  “I’m Deloris, Kolton’s nanny,” she says. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I need to see him,” says the voice, just before a long, thin leg steps over the threshold into his house. “Kolton?” she calls, coming fully into view. She’s beautiful. Then I realize she’s the model pictured in that article I’d passed over earlier. The model who’d slapped Kolton.

  “He’s not here,” Deloris says. “He’s been staying elsewhere.”

  “Why does Kolton need a nanny?” she questions. I’m frozen on the stairs like a squirrel pinned to the bark of a tree, hoping not to be seen.

  “I’m sorry, but he’d better answer that question for you,” Deloris says, as the leggy blonde storms past her and enters the apartment, making her way toward the living room. “Ma’am!” Deloris says. “You can’t come in here.”

  “Can’t I?” she questions. “He’s not answering his phone. I’m not leaving until he talks to me.”

  Is she crazy or something? I don’t want her to see me so I go back up and stand on the landing. I think if she finds out I’m here, it will be bad for Kolton, but really bad for me. She’ll go to the media. I look around, panicked, but then I realize I can just text him.

  Kolton Royce Private

  11:38 PM

  There’s a model here looking for you. She sys she wont leave til you talk to her.

  11:39

  Did you answer the door?

  11:41

  No. Deloris did. I’m upstairs.

  11:41

  Stay where you are. Lock the door.

  Holy shit! Is she a crazy person? Riley’s down there with her! So’s Deloris. I can’t just wait for him. I descend the stairs slowly, praying they won’t creak, and, when I get to the bottom I pick up my TOMS to hide the fact that I’m here, and peek around toward the living room. I see her legs sticking out from behind the wall. She’s sitting on the couch, but she won’t see me if I cross the foyer to Riley’s room; I can lock us in there. I shuffle across, and turn the doorknob.

  I can hear Deloris on the phone. “Devon, I really need your help. There’s a—I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  As she’s asking her what her name is, I push the door open. It creaks low and loud like a moan.

  “Who else is here?” she asks, as I quickly close the door and turn the lock. I’m pacing, shaking my hands to let the energy out.

  “Yes, Devon. There’s a woman here to see Mr. Royce,” Deloris says, the sound muffled but still audible. “Uh, huh. Yes, I told her he’s not here. Well, who let her up, then?”

  “The doorman let me up,” she announces. “He knows me. I used to live here. Where’s Kolton?” She used to live in the building? Or with Kolton?

  “I really wish I could help you,” Deloris says. I can tell she’s trying to sound calm, but she’s talking too loud. I sit down in the chair and watch Riley’s chest rise and fall in a little rhythm. My heart is pounding. I check my phone. It’s nearly midnight. Wow! Was I really thinking of going out jogging this late at night? What was I thinking?

  That model has been here for about fifteen minutes. I just wish someone would come and get her out of here. About five minutes later, I hear the front door open and I stand up.

  “Katharina!” I hear Kolton say deep and intimidating. “What are you doing here?” he barks as his footsteps move toward the living room.

  “You left me no choice,” she says, her accent strong. “You can’t stay mad for this long.”

  “It’s time to go,” he says, his voice loud and severe.

  “Where? Upstairs?” she asks seductively.

  “Look. We already talked about this.”

  “Come on, Kolton,” she whines. “I just want to remind you—and then.”

  “It’s over. I don
’t want to see you anymore.”

  “You don’t mean it,” she says.

  “You need to leave right now, or I’m going to have Manny and Devon take you out—Does that sound like I mean it?”

  “But—”

  “And then I’m filing charges and getting a protective order against you.” He sounds cold, detached.

  “But, I love you, Kolton. Don’t do this!” It’s obvious she’s crying now.

  “You don’t know what love is, Katharina,” he answers, and there’s some sound like a hit, or something hitting a wall, a crashing sound, a scream I think is Deloris’.

  “Take her out!” Kolton says, defiantly. Riley stirs, but settles back, remaining asleep. I’m standing at the door now, my hands pressed against the grain so close I feel the knots in the wood. I swallow hard as I hear a commotion coming toward the front door.

  “You fucking asshole!” she screams. “You’re the one who can’t love. You’re fucking empty, just a shell, nothing. You’ll never know what love is!” she finishes just as the door slams behind her.

  “Deloris,” Kolton says, in a soft tone.

  “Yes,” I hear her say from far away.

  “You don’t need to clean that up,” he cautions. “We’ll need it—as evidence.”

  “Who was that?” she asks, enunciating every word.

  “Listen, that will never happen again. I’m going to have Manny stay here from now on to protect all of you. And that doorman, he’s fired. I swear to God. She must’ve bribed him or something,” he sounds frantic.

  “I’d appreciate that,” she says. “But you’re bleeding. We should call the police.”

  “Devon’s taking care of that. Where’s Mia?” he asks.

  “She’s probably upstairs,” Deloris answers. I listen as he climbs the stairs and I feel bad he won’t find me up there. I don’t want to face him so soon after what happened between us, but he’s here and I know he’ll make me see him.

  Reluctantly, I open the door and look toward the living room. The coffee table looks like it’s been knocked around; it’s not lined up with the couch anymore. There’s glass on the floor and Deloris is standing in the middle of it. She looks shaken.