Rockstar Savages (Forbidden Chords Book 3)

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  She nodded, “Humor me.”

  “Reading and traveling.” He smile. “What about you?”

  “Painting.”

  “Because it keeps your emotions in check.” Carmela nodded unable to speak. She recalled their conversation in her dining room and apparently so did he. “I have a good memory.”

  “I see.” She gathered her knees to her chest. “Why finance?”

  “The quick answer or the story?”

  “The story, but we have an appointment in a couple of hours.” She stood and placed her phone back on the nightstand. She’d live this moment and think about later, later. Then Carmela crawled back into bed, snuggling close to his body. Jamal pulled the cover back over her.

  “I grew up in Detroit bouncing around from foster home to foster home. All of them accepting kids into their homes for a check. All of them poor. I was all right in school but it wasn’t a priority to me until a read a book about a Black man growing up in Baltimore who became the richest Black man, at that time. I read that book a million times, until the pages fell from the spine.”

  “And he was in finance?” She glanced over her shoulder.

  “No, he was a lawyer. But I was always good with numbers. Math was my favorite subject, so I put two and two together.” He shrugged dismissively, but according to the article she read online he was a billionaire. “Do you enjoy painting more than music?”

  “I don’t think that’s a fair question.” She rolled over laying across his chest, loving the feel of his skin against hers. “They are both pieces of me. They help me express my highs, my lows, and everything in between.”

  “What’s something you can’t do?”

  “Cook.”

  “You can’t cook La?” His features became animated.

  “No. I can’t. But I make a mean bowl of cereal.” Jamal laughed throwing his arm over his eyes. She playfully smacked him on the chest. He caught her wrist kissing it. “I can’t cook because I’m never home. Can you cook?”

  “Yes.” His hand feathered along her shoulder.

  “Well, we wouldn’t starve.” Her feelings for him were intensifying by the second.

  “Nah, I wouldn’t let that happen.” He kissed her, softer than before.

  Carmela pulled back woozy with need. Would Jamal be another mistake? Another something or somebody to get over? Another glimpse at hope only for it to be shattered by reality?

  “There you go again,” with a fancy twist, she found herself flat on her back. His face hovering above, their noses touching. “We have less than two hours before you leave for two months. I want to be deep inside you, hearing you call my name. Tell me what you need sweetheart.”

  “In life…or right now?” She wiggled beneath him. The thickness of his flesh against her heat.

  “Either…both…and stop wiggling.” He kissed her quick and hard.

  “I want you now. And in life, I…” She wondered if she could tell him.

  “You what La….”

  She reached for the tiny package on the nightstand beside her phone. “I want to retire.”

  “Retire?” His breath caught as she gripped his shaft, rolling her hand up and down his length. He eyes slid closed.

  “Yes. Turn us over.”

  Jamal flipped them with little effort. Carmela felt a river flowing between her thighs as she straddled his body, ripping the wrapper open with her teeth. She rolled the condom down first, then her body followed, adjusting and stretching to accommodate his length and his thickness. He gripped her hip thrusting deep until she scream his name, locked in tight, he filled her until she had nothing left to give.

  “La, this conversation isn’t over.”

  “I know.”

  They arrived at the bank with time to spare. Carmela showered and put on Jamal’s sweats and t-shirt. The list of tasks to complete before boarding the tour bus ran through her head like a sugar-high toddler as they waited for Nicki and Gabriel to arrive. Jamal talked with the banker giving Carmela time to zone out.

  Nicki would be her eyes and ears around the house while her and Gabriel left, since she lived on the road. She rather finish the tour and rest at home for a few weeks to unplug. The past few weeks had been unreal. She’d performed for her fans, ran Richard off, and then there was Jamal. She felt a shift on the horizon and prayed it would make them all better versions of themselves, with less stress.

  To update the signature card she considered Gabriel and Marcel initially. But including Marcel in on this decision would be the the equivalent of telling Richard, which she couldn’t do. She had to finish this tour, plus the additional ten shows. And maybe her compliance would soften Richard’s feelings towards RSE and Jamal.

  Nicki and Gabriel arrived and banker gave his presentation. He walked through the legal jargon with a pile of documents on the desk. Jamal sat off to the side, straight faced. Nicki was the only one actively paying attention. She asked questions, nodding and Gabriel, well, he was Gabriel. Speaking when spoken to, dragging him out of bed meant they’d have to endure his groggy attitude.

  Carmela was tired already. Her long night with Jamal meant she was sore in places she didn’t care to mention. She glanced over her shoulder. He sat back with a leg crossed over his knee. He had the ability to appear totally relaxed, however, she was learning to read his body signals, much like she read the other men in her life.

  Gabriel worked best when moving around, activity fed him. That’s why he served as the perfect road manager. The night was his playground and people were his fuel.

  Marcel was a paper pusher. He never was much of a people person. He was about executing Richard’s desires. That’s why she never faulted Marcel for Richard’s doing. Marcel wasn’t the leader type, but a man comfortable with following. Too bad, his inability to step outside of Richard’s shadow was the reason he lived such an unhappy life because it kept the one person he wanted most, Nicki, at arms length.

  Richard was…she glanced down at her hands. She’d have to develop another identity for Richard. He once was driven, ambitious, and had laser focus. She’d seen a new man emerge the more she toured and the larger her fanbase grew. But now, he’d become distracted, hardened, and a stranger.

  Then there was Jamal. How would he fit into her world of men? The men she fought so hard to protect and provide for. Would he one day be like them? Wanting more than she could give?

  Jamal leaned forward as if reading her thoughts. “La, you don’t have to do this. We can wait or find another way.”

  The banker stopped, his observant eyes bouncing between them.

  “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. Then her uneasy feeling found it’s source, Richard. How would he respond to her updating the signature card? In her defense, he left her with no choice. Carmela turned from Jamal to the banker. “So essentially having more than one signature offers accountability?”

  “Yes. It ensures all parties are acting in a reasonable and proper manner concerning the company’s finances.” The banker smile glancing around the room. “Do you have any other questions?”

  “No, I think you’ve covered it all.” She accepted the shiny black fountain pen, hesitating for a brief moment. She still wasn’t at ease with making this change. But their reality made the decision a necessity. She cut an eye toward Gabriel, his three taps on the tap moved her to sign across the designated lines, once for La Frank Records and another for Crescendo.

  There’s no turning back now.

  Chapter 19

  Jamal stood in his familiar blue suit, with an unfamiliar ache. Carmela turned to board the bus. Her hesitation evident in the drag of her feet. He promised himself he’d stand back and let her go. She was leaving to do her job and she’d done everything he’d asked of her this morning.

  They stopped by her house to get her luggage. He planned to head back to Houston and work from there. He couldn’t work with the doctored documents Marcel gave him. He’d start with the statements from the bank and met with Damian in perso
n to see what they could find together. But right now was all about Carmela.

  She let him love her until they both were too exhausted to move. He’d had her over every inch of the presidential suite, and yet he wanted more. How was that possible?

  She passed her bag to Gabriel and retraced her steps. “I can’t leave with you looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” He asked. Carmela snaked her arms around his waist and the agony lessened. He pulled her closer not wanting to let her go.

  “Like you miss me already.”

  “I think I do.”

  “You think?” Her head snapped back. The wrinkle in her nose made him kiss her. The stir of emotions held no names.

  Carmela pulled back, their foreheads connected, their lips a whisper away. “Don’t make it harder for me.”

  “I’m sorry La.” She leaned into his chest and planted pieces of her essence in his soul. Her optimism, her fight, her willingness to give because it was the right thing to do. And he wanted all of it. And then some.

  “La, we gotta roll.” Gabriel called from the charter bus.

  “I’ll call you.” Jamal felt her nod against his chest, then she stepped back.

  “Every night?”

  The ache returned with a vengeance. He almost missed her dimpled smile after spotting the tears in her eyes. Her grip on his heart twisted tighter. He’d learned in life people come and people go. It was a reality attached to every memory for as long as he could recall. It left him ferociously independent and unattached. Yet he didn’t want Carmela to go.

  “La don’t let a single tear fall or I won’t let you board that bus.” Jamal swallowed hard shoving his selfish desires back.

  He wrap a hand behind her head crashing into her. Jamal kissed her again. Not like last night or this morning when they were under the control of their hormones, their flesh, their need. He kissed her like a man in need of oxygen, like only she had what he needed to live, like she was his air. That reality scared him to death. But not enough to let her go.

  “Bye—”

  “Don’t say bye. Please.” He kissed her once more, then he stepped away, unfolding his body from hers. Goodbyes reminded him of the families he lost. Nothing good ever came after goodbye. “See you later.”

  Carmela nodded, her face reflecting the way he felt. Maybe they needed this time apart. Maybe this time would give him the space he needed to regain his perspective. He looked to Gabriel, pushing down the onset of agony. “Call me if she needs anything.”

  “You got it.” Gabriel threw him a two-finger salute and reentered the bus.

  Jamal knew he couldn’t tell Carmela the same. She was a NOLA superhero. She intended to do it all and not let them see her sweat. But Jamal wouldn’t let her carry this burden on her own, not anymore.

  He glanced back at Carmela, his eyes traveling to the constant fidget of her hands, playing with the thumbhole.

  “What is it La?” He took a step closer. But couldn’t touch her. He wanted to inhale her sweet smell before watching her walk away. “Tell me.”

  The warmth in her maple brown eyes soothed his escalating heart rate, quieting the anxiety rising inside. He’d fought with separation anxiety as a child and hadn’t suffered an attack since he left the Martins. He’d promised himself he would never depend on a living soul for his happiness again. And somehow Carmela burst through every barrier and wall he’d erected. He wondered if she knew how much last night changed them both, forever.

  “I know you said you’re not the keeping kind.” Her eyes caressed his face, and he struggled to keep his hands at his side. “But…” she closed the space, slipping her hands in his, “Can I have you?”

  “I’m already yours.”

  Her smile widened with approval and he kissed her, not goodbye, because she was taking his heart with her. He watched her walk away, she waved before the doors closed behind her. Again Jamal watched until he could no longer see the vehicle carrying Carmela away from him.

  He thought he could sample her and leave it at that. He lied. He had a feeling he’d never get enough of his NOLA chick.

  He climbed inside Carmela’s SUV. He had two months plus ten shows to wait for her return. Then Jamal would take his lady to Houston to meet his family. And maybe then they could discuss how they planned to handle this relationship. Even the thought had him blown.

  He, Jamal Washington, was in a relationship. He shook his head as if the echo of the words would dissipate. The ring of his phone invaded his failed attempt.

  “What’s up Damian?” He turned the key.

  “I need you on the plane to Atlanta. Dad’s been admitted into the hospital.”

  Jamal tried to hear bits and pieces of Damian’s explanation as an audible pulse flooded his ears.

  “Jamal. Jamal.”

  “Yeah, man. I hear you. I got you.” Damian’s sigh of relief helped Jamal focus. “He’ll be all right. Get Imani and Wright together. I’ll be on the plane as soon as it’s gased up and ready to fly.”

  “I can’t imagine…” The crack in Damian’s voice steeled Jamal.

  “And you won’t have to. Take care of Houston and I’ll take care of Atlanta.” A soft grunt on the other end was all Jamal heard. He could imagine the focused expression on Damian’s face and a tight nod.

  “Thank you.”

  “That’s what brothers are for.” And their motto rang truer than ever. “Family…”

  “Over fame.”

  Jamal sat back in the seat taking a deep breath after disconnecting the call. He pulled out the parking lot heading back to the hotel to get his clothes. He followed the directions not out of memory but out of pure obedience to the female voice guiding his path. To say he was emotionally tapped out was an understatement, from his night with Carmela, to his unreal response to seeing her leave, to now having to rush to see about the only real father he’d ever known. And to think he’d ran from these feeling. The feeling of being attached to someone who could be ripped from his life.

  Jamal gripped the steering wheel, pushing down the anxious feeling rearing its ugly head and sharp teeth. Parts of him wanted to board the plan and fly far away to reset his emotional stability. To get his head back in control. To tell his adolescent heart that these untapped feeling were unwanted and dangerous.

  But that was a lie. He wanted Carmela and he wanted the Hughes. He parked abruptly in the private parking garage at the airport. A driver grabbed his luggage to carry him to the private jet. He’d stay in Atlanta until his family no longer needed him.

  His family.

  Jamal glanced around to survey the surroundings. He boarded the plane speaking to the pilot and crew when his phone chimed with a text message, Missing you already.

  He smiled, relaxing in the nearest seat. You should be asleep by now.

  I can’t every time I close my eyes, I see you. She was taking a sledgehammer to his determination to remain independent and beneath his hardened exterior she’s revealing a man he’d never met. A man willing to turn the now airborne plane around to hold her until she slept peacefully in his arms.

  We’re entering dangerous territory, Jamal typed. Then he watched the blue bubble come and go.

  Good.

  Jamal lowered the phone to his leg. He took a deep breath. He had to consult his best counsel. Imagines of their bodies tangle in the sheets flooded his mind. The taste of her still on his tongue. He shook his head, in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean of Carmela…La Luvie…La. But it was impossible.

  He had to embrace these feeling if it meant having Carmela and the Hughes in his life. I’m heading to ATL, he typed. His phone rung seconds after hitting send.

  “Everything okay.”

  “I’m not sure. John’s been admitted into the hospital.”

  “John’s your father? And tell me the story.”

  Jamal glanced out of the window with a smile. “I’ll tell you the story if you promise to go to sleep.”

  “I promise. But I
’m lying.”

  Jamal laughed, he knew her dimpled smile was on display. “There is something wrong with you.”

  “Stop procrastinating. Who is John?”

  Jamal started at the beginning, telling her about his internship and meeting the Hughes family.

  “Were you still in a group home when you met them?”

  “No, I was working my way through college. My internship turned into finding my family.”

  “What’s that like?”

  Jamal could hear the sound of her settling in on the other end. “Odd, I guess. I’d had a family before but not one like the Hughes.”

  “How did they differ?”

  “Man, in every way.” He picked at the material of his pants around his ankles. “They are rich, White, and very much a family, family. We travel, have holidays together, you’ll see. In the beginning it was like a movie.” He laughed. “But I’m thankful for them.”

  “What have been your greatest lessons?”

  “I guess…” Jamal thought back over the years. John and Donna had been consistent. Damian, Charlotte, Katlin, and Jake, Jr., were welcoming and treated him like a brother. “Consistency. They’ve taught me about family and consistent, unconditional love.”

  “That’s a blessing.”

  “Yes, it is.” His concern for John heightened. Jamal hoped he wouldn’t be robbed of his chance to show the Hughes how much he appreciated them. “What about you? What have you learned about your family working in this industry?” He had to change the subject to lessen his worry.

  “Now that’s a story. How much time do you have?”

  “An hour or two.” He removed his jacket tossing it on the seat beside him.

  “I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately. I think our ability to learn and grow La Frank Records is commendable but, off the record, it has caused a strain on our personal relationships. It’s all about deals, spins, shows, and money.”

  “When did your family take over your management?”

  “They’ve always managed me. Well, not Marcel and Gabriel. They came in after graduating from college. Marcel first, he worked with Richard. Then Gabriel, and he hit the road with me.”