Savaged Vows: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 2

by Jennifer Lyon

  River was sprawled on the floor, snoring, while a thin line of blood oozed from a cut over one eye. Lynx was prone on the couch, one arm and leg hanging off.

  Crouching, Justice smacked River’s shoulder. “Get up.”

  River batted his hand away. “Mrmph.”

  A couple bouncers came in, and one said, “We’ll get the one on the couch.” The two beefy men hauled up a protesting Lynx.

  He nodded, grateful for the help.

  Screech crouched on the other side of River. “Let’s go.”

  “You sure?” Justice asked. The other man had to be in his fifties.

  “Yep.” Screech got a hold of River’s arm.

  They hauled the bassist to his feet and headed out, working their way through the throngs of bodies squished around the bar. The two bouncers towed Lynx behind them. Lynx mumbled, but it was slurred nonsense.

  Pushing through a gaggle of chattering college-aged girls, Justice glanced at Screech. “You have free drinks or something?” Seemed busy for a Thursday night.

  “End of quarter blowout. Half-priced drinks if they have a student ID.” Screech groaned. “How much does River weigh?”

  “More than he looks. Lot of muscle.” River could have been an MMA fighter, he was that good. But he always said he was a lover not a fighter. Justice stopped for a second and wrapped an arm around River’s waist to take more of the unconscious man’s bulk. Situated, he glanced around and caught sight of the darkened stage on his right. Pain sliced into his chest. Their band had gotten their start in this club. The last time he’d been up on that stage had been when Screech had thrown a private party celebrating Savaged Illusions’ success on Court of Rock—they’d made it to the final two shows. It’d been a great night. They’d all been high with their triumph. He’d been so sure they’d win.

  “We stopping for a drink?” one of the bouncers snapped behind him.

  Justice dragged his attention away from the stage and took a few more steps. A group of guys trash-talking, leering at girls and being assholes stood between him and the door. “Coming through.”

  One turned, a bottle of beer hanging from his fingers and a sneer on his face. “Go around—” The man froze.

  A slap of recognition jerked Justice up short. His pulse jacked. “Hans.” The man who attacked Liza was here? Now?

  Hans lifted his chin, his gaze sliding to River slumped between him and Screech, then back to Justice. “Taking out the garbage, Cade?” The shock melted off his face, replaced by a smirk. “You hang out with a lot of trash. Even your father knew that when he stabbed your girlfriend.”

  An image of Liza lying on the asphalt, blood everywhere, her eyes filled with tears of pain and terror flashed in his head. Something cracked in his brain, and hot rage exploded, coating his mind in a red mist. “You stabbed her.” Dropping River, he lunged and slammed his fist into the bastard’s face.

  Hans flew back into a table. Girls screamed, glass shattered, and blood sprayed from his nose. Grabbing a broken glass, Hans rolled to his feet. “You’re crazy. Cops arrested your dad. Not me.”

  Justice eyed the glass. “Think it’ll be as easy to cut me as it was Liza?” He wanted the man to come at him. Any excuse to kill the fucker. “What was it like, Hans? Did you feel like a big man sneaking up behind a woman and stabbing her?” All his anger poured out. “Did it feel good? Or were you scared, like the night Liza stood up to you in the bar and made you slink out with your balls all shriveled up?”

  Hans roared and lashed out with his makeshift weapon.

  Justice snapped a kick, hitting Hans’s arm and knocking the glass out of his hold. He kept going, shoving Hans’s back to the wall. “That all you got? No wonder you had to come up behind Liza in a dark parking lot. You’re too scared to face her like a man.”

  Hans turned crimson, and his gaze darted around. “She’s a whore! Hayes told me how she begged him to fuck her, then cried rape. Bitches like her ruin it for men. I’d have killed her if that bum hadn’t gotten in my way.” He threw a punch.

  Justice blocked with one arm and grabbed the bastard’s throat with his free hand. Icy hate ripped through him. He tightened his fingers, slowly cutting off Hans’s air. “Liza almost died,” he growled. “That bum is my dad.” That was how the whole world saw his father now, the scarred bum. That enraged Justice more.

  Hans clawed at his hand, panic exploding in his eyes.

  “Justice.” Screech gripped his shoulder. “Let him go.”

  His hand stayed locked around the bastard’s throat, but he looked at Screech. “He stabbed Liza.”

  “I heard it, so did everyone else.” He held up his phone. “I have it on video. Cops are pulling up out front. Get your hand off him. He’s done.”

  Relief flooded through Justice. They had evidence. Beth was safe, and his dad would be cleared of suspicion. He forced his fingers to unclench.

  Hans slid to the floor, his legs folding while he coughed and sucked air. Tears poured down his face, mixing with the blood from his nose.

  Justice stared down at the man with zero pity. “Enjoy prison, asshole.”

  * * *

  The next night Justice’s neck muscles ached with frustration as he circled his Jeep around the jail a couple times. “Do you see him?” It was almost ten forty, damn it. He scanned the road, noting light traffic and no obvious signs of media. But in the dark it was a strain to see the door on the south side of the main entrance where inmates were released.

  “Not yet,” Beth answered from the passenger seat.

  “His lawyer said ten thirty.” It’d taken all day to get through the formalities to release his dad. Would he come home? Talk to Justice? Maybe even go into one of the PTSD treatment programs that Justice had found?

  Would he finally fulfill his promise to his grandmother to take care of his dad?

  Driving past the high-rise county jail that looked like any other office building, he wanted to punch the steering wheel. How many times had he futilely looked for his dad exactly like this?

  “Go around again.”

  “He’s not here, Beth. He’s gone.” Justice shouldn’t have let Beth come with him, but what was he going to do? She’d been adamant, and he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone again.

  “Please, Justice.”

  He needed to get her back to the hotel and to bed. But the urge to track his father raged inside him, a constant pressure on his muscles. “It’s pointless.” But he swung around the corner and looped—

  “There!” Beth pointed to the lone man on the sidewalk. He wore a dark shirt, backpack slung over one shoulder, and had a rambling, uneven gait that favored his left hip.

  Justice slowed and eased the Jeep up to the curb. “Stay inside and lock the doors.” He opened his door at the same time he heard Beth open hers too. Damn it. He swung around in the seat, but she was already climbing out of the car.

  “Noah, it’s me, Liza. Wait, please?”

  His dad slowed.

  Justice raced around the car to help Beth out. “Easy.” He visually searched the sidewalks. A truck and SUV drove by, more vehicles were parked along the street, and a few people strolled on the sidewalks. He didn’t spot any reporters or people that triggered an internal alarm.

  Holding her arm, he guided her to his dad. As they approached, Justice winced. His father’s hair was shoulder length and ragged, his beard more gray than brown. But it was the web of burn and shrapnel scars pulling at his gaunt cheek and temple that gut punched him.

  Liza raised her hand as if to touch his dad’s arm, then pulled back. “Noah, thank you for helping me Monday night. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. Thank you.”

  He nodded without looking at them.

  “Dad, come home,” Justice said. “We can talk. I’ve found two treatment programs that—”

  His shoulders notched up. “Can’t.”

  Fuck. Anger choked him. “I’m trying to help you. You’re going to end up dead
out here on the streets. You’re not homeless.” Just saying the word homeless hurt. “You don’t have to live this way.” He stabbed his hand through his hair. I’d have killed her if that bum hadn’t gotten in my way. Even that bastard Hans thought he was better than Justice’s dad. They didn’t see him as he’d once been—a proud, confident Marine who commanded respect and admiration. Who’d laid his life on the line to protect the country he loved. This man here? This wasn’t his father.

  Remorse for even thinking that rammed straight through his heart. It hurt, damn it. His own father wouldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to be around him. Would it ever change, or would he always have to live with the truth that he’d driven his dad to the streets? He tried again by saying, “You have a home.”

  His dad flinched and started walking.

  Goddammit.

  “Noah,” Beth said softly. “Justice and I are staying in a hotel tonight. If you’d like, we can drop you off at the house, and you can stay there. If there’s any media, I’ll divert them, and you can slip inside. You’ll be alone, can sleep and eat something. There are clothes there for you too. Take anything you need. All you have to do is let us drive you there.” She moved in front of his dad. “I’d feel better if you’d let us do this much for you. I owe you my life. I don’t know you well, but you matter to me. Will you consider it? You can always leave.”

  Justice held his breath. How did Beth do it? She talked to his dad in such an easy, respectful way. As if she didn’t see the degradation and desperation clinging to every cell of his ravaged body.

  His dad lifted his head, his gaze going to Beth. “Yes.”

  The air whooshed out of Justice’s lungs. This was something. Not a big family reunion, but one step.

  “Good. Let’s get you in the car. We’ll take you to the house, watch you get inside, and drive away.” She walked with his dad to the car, talking to him as he slid into the backseat.

  Justice held the door for Beth, then pulled the seat belt across her to keep her from twisting and irritating the healing wound.

  Halfway home, Liza said, “Noah, is it okay if we drive through and grab some food? I slept through dinner, and I have to eat to take my pain pills. Or do you want us to do that after we drop you off?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  Justice closed his eyes for a second, his chest rattling in recognition of his dad’s voice. It was rough and creaky, like a rusty door in an old house, but comfortingly familiar. How long since he’d heard it? A year? Hearing it now was all because of Liza, his Beth, a gentle but powerful force of nature. He could almost feel her patience flowing in the car, pouring a calmness over the acid strain bubbling between him and his father.

  After heading into the McDonald’s drive-through, he gave Beth’s order, chose something for himself, and added, “In a separate bag, put another couple quarter pounders, a large French fry and a…” what did his dad like to drink? “…root beer.” Grandma had always kept it in the house for his dad.

  Once Justice paid, he handed the bags to Beth. Ten minutes later, Justice stopped the car in the driveway of the house. His muscles cramped with the effort of resisting the urge to go inside.

  After his dad got out, Liza rolled down her window and held out the McDonald’s bag and her house key. “You have my cell number if you need anything.”

  His dad stood there in the moonlight, hesitating.

  “Justice moved the hide-a-key when reporters started following us. Use this one. We’ll get another made for me.” She told him the new alarm code too.

  Noah took the items. “Did you really miss dinner tonight?”

  “I did, actually. I watched a movie and fell asleep and slept through dinner.”

  She didn’t mention the late lunch they’d had, but Justice kept his mouth shut.

  “Now,” Beth went on, “I’m hungry and craving French fries. Everyone knows you need French fries and chocolate when you get out of the hospital.”

  Noah’s eyes crinkled at the edges, as if his face wanted to smile but didn’t know how. Then his gaze flicked to Justice and the almost smile fell back into grim lines. He turned and walked up to the door.

  He watched his father go, wondering if he’d ever see the day his father walked toward him, not away. “He’ll be gone by morning.” No matter how much Justice wanted to help him.

  “Time and trust.”

  Justice looked over at her. “What?”

  “We’re building trust with your dad, and that takes time. He needs to believe what we say. We told him we’d drop him off and leave, and that’s what we’re doing. Just like when he came to see you sing, I assured him he only had to talk to me, and I didn’t stop him when he left. Or…” she trailed off for a second, “…I thought he’d left. The point is, he can trust that we’re not trying to force him into more than he can handle.”

  “Like when you said you slept through dinner, it was true.” Justice had talked her into watching a movie with him on the bed in the hotel room. She’d conked out hard.

  “Exactly.” She took a breath. “How many times have you looked for him?”

  “Hundreds.” It wasn’t an exaggeration.

  “He knows that. He told me to ask you to stop looking, to accept that me and your band are your future, and he’s your past.”

  “He’s my dad.” He’d never leave him behind.

  “I told him I wouldn’t do that, and you wouldn’t listen anyway. Justice…” she touched his arm, “…he loves you. He was a dry sponge sucking up every tidbit of information about you when I first saw him. But he can’t talk to you. After the show, before he left, he told me something else.”

  “What?” He’d wanted to ask her what his dad had said to her, word for word, but Beth had been stabbed. Now in the cab of his Jeep, he leaned toward her, desperate to glean some insight that could help him reach the father he’d once known and bring him back.

  “He told me, ‘I hear the screams every time I close my eyes. I failed them, and they died. Not easy deaths, but horrible and agonizing. Because I made a mistake. I can’t face my son. I can’t.’ It was heartbreaking. I could almost feel his agony.”

  Christ. He dropped his arm on the center console, the weight on his chest unbearable. If only he’d kept his mouth shut all those years ago when he’d screamed at his dad, I wish you’d never come home. He’d only added to the anguish his father carried.

  “He got some of those soldiers out. Doesn’t he get that?”

  She leaned her forehead against his. “It’s not that simple. If it was, don’t you think your dad would have figured it out? We have to remember that what he’s struggling with isn’t because he’s weak or misguided, it’s because he’s human. Just like us.” She touched his cheek. “You told me once life won’t break you. But it can. It can break any of us. We’re all one moment away from shattering.”

  He gazed into her bottomless green eyes. “You didn’t break.” But she almost had. She still struggled sometimes with the urge to cut. That was one of the reasons he hated leaving her alone at night.

  “I’m young. Give me time.”

  A chill went down his spine. “Not funny.” It came out harsher than he meant. “Don’t break, Beth. Don’t let me break you.” Then she’d leave him and hate him. “We can be stronger together. We won’t break.”

  Her mouth curved. “All in.”

  He eased a hand into her hair, careful not to jerk her neck, and kissed her. Soft and slow, marking her the only way he could right now. Once she healed, he’d have her the way he craved, but this was enough for the time being. Tasting Beth, this woman who owned far too much of his heart.

  Finally he pulled back. “All in.”

  With her by his side, he drove away, trusting that they were building something stronger and better. They’d never be like his parents—breaking each other.

  The next morning, when Justice returned to the house before going to load up Beth’s apartment and get her
moved, his dad was gone. Again.

  For a second, he squeezed his eyes shut, the pain running deep.

  Beth slid her hand in his. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the woman he loved. “He’s gone.”

  “Yeah. And it sucks.”

  “I don’t understand it. He chooses to live on the streets rather than with me. I’d take care of him, you know? I’d…” He shut up. He’d said it all before, would do anything, but what did all that matter if his dad didn’t want to be around him?

  Beth leaned into his side. “It might not help, but I’m choosing to live with you and to love you. I’m here, Justice. And we’re going to keep trying with your dad.”

  Releasing her hand, he wrapped his arm around his girl. “It helps.” Beth’s love was everything. The one thing he could count on when everything else in his life went to hell.

  God he loved her. And he’d come too damned close to losing her. Even his dad recognized how special Beth was.

  He was going to get her all moved in, take care of her while she healed, then Justice was going to prove to her—and to his dad—that he was a winner worth loving and staying for.

  Chapter 4

  FIVE WEEKS LATER

  Justice walked into the studio in Fairfax, California, Court of Rock shared with a few other shows. This afternoon, the set was theirs for the first rehearsal and some promo clips.

  “Hey, stranger,” Colin said. “Good to see you.”

  A real grin lit Justice’s face. “Colin.” He handed the security guard a coffee he’d brought for the man. It’d become something of a tradition when Justice had been on the reality show. Colin always took point guarding the main access door.

  “How’s Liza?” Colin winced. “I’m so damned sorry that bastard got to her. She was with her two friends when she left the building that night and said she didn’t need an escort.”

  “She’s doing well. That guy got by the cops, not you.” Colin had been posted at the door, while the police worked crowd control from the street.