by HELEN HARDT
T.M.I.
I opened my mouth to respond to Susie, but I had no idea what to say.
Just as well, because Susie babbled on about kissing. I stopped listening after a while.
“So you want to go out and get some breakfast or something?”
I yawned. “Yeah, okay. Let me take a shower. I don’t work till five. By the way, I’m giving my notice tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Did you sell something?”
“Unfortunately, no. I do have a lead with that paranormal TV show, though. We’ll see what happens. But I’m bound and determined to put my writing to good use. I’ll write for bloggers. I’ll write for e-zines. Heck, I’ll write advertising for flyers. I spend way too much time on my feet in that diner making so-called contacts that don’t lead to anything. Letting assholes pinch my ass.”
“Jesus, Heather, where did this come from? You were always about paying the bills. About having something steady. About not pimping out your talents to write for tabloid crap.”
“I just want to do what I love. I want to write. It doesn’t really matter what I write, does it?”
“Well, it never mattered to me,” she said. “But I was pretty darn sure it mattered to you. ‘It’s the big screen or nothing.’ Those are the words of Heather Myles, I believe.”
“Yeah… I’m kind of seeing things from a different angle now.”
“Why?”
Why lie to her? “Honestly? Jett.”
“Jett? What did he do?”
“Did you know his background is in opera?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He went to graduate school at Northwestern with his keyboardist, Zane Michaels. Did you know he’s a classical pianist?”
“No shit? Pretty boy Zane? Who gets more pussy than the rest of the band combined?”
“I know. I can’t see it either, but he’s amazing on the keyboard, so I bet he’s even more amazing on a nine-foot grand.”
“I can’t see either of them in a tux,” she said.
Oh, but I could. An image popped into my mind. Jett in a tux. A sleek black tuxedo covering his muscular body. A plain white shirt, no pleats or ruffles, with black button covers and suspenders. No cummerbund. Suspenders were classier. A white silk bow tie. And his gorgeous dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Or maybe a messy man bun.
No. The ponytail for a tux.
“I’ll just take a quick shower,” I said again.
A quick cold shower.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jett
In the late afternoon, I got out of a cab and walked toward my mother’s house in Evanston, Illinois. The house was a restored 1920s mansion in an affluent area. I’d bought it for my mother when Emerald Phoenix earned its first gold record. My older brother, Tyler, had lived there with her for a while, but now he had his own place, also subsidized by me. He did carpentry work. He was an artist in his own right. He made gorgeous unique pieces that sold for top dollar.
He was finally happy. Finally moving forward with his life.
What I was about to do might destroy that.
I’d chartered a plane when I left Alicia’s. She’d given me no choice. Because I can. I’d always known she was a bitch of the highest order who loved controlling people, but when she uttered those words, her eyes narrow yet shining with happiness, I knew the whole truth.
She was psycho.
I’d never really believed her when she said she would take me and my family down. Why would she? She had made me. Had made Emerald Phoenix into the sensation it was. Why would she ruin that? What purpose would it serve?
Now I knew it didn’t matter whether a true purpose existed. She didn’t care. She was nuts, and she’d do it for fun.
I rued the day I’d ever set eyes on the narcissistic, psycho bitch.
Zane and I had talent. We could have made it on our own, but we hadn’t had the slightest idea how to become rock stars.
Alicia had created us.
I inhaled deeply and knocked on my mother’s door.
A few minutes later, she opened it, her eyes sparkling with happiness when she saw me. “Jeremy! You said you couldn’t come.”
“I changed my mind.” I entered as she held the door open for me. “Is Ty here by any chance?”
“Actually, he is. He came by with a new bookshelf for me. He’s setting it up in the den. It’s beautiful. Come see it. Ty!” she yelled. “Jeremy’s home!”
My big brother, who could have been my twin except for his blond hair and blue eyes, sauntered in and gave me a bear hug. “Hey, Jer. What’s the occasion?”
Tyler looked so happy. He had come such a long way with the best counseling my money could buy. I hated what I was about to do to him and my mother.
But I could no longer afford to keep the secret I’d been hiding for five years. Alicia was a ticking time bomb. I needed to take prophylactic measures.
“I need to talk to both of you,” I said.
“Jeremy?” My mother touched my forearm. “What’s the matter? Oh, no… That phone call I got… This has to do with that, doesn’t it?”
I nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid it does.”
“What phone call?” Tyler asked.
“Oh, Ty, I didn’t want to bother you with this.”
“Mom, you’re not a bother. What is she talking about, Jeremy?”
“Tell him about the phone call, Mom,” I said.
“It was nothing really, Ty. Just a prank call, I’m sure.”
“Tell him,” I said again.
“An anonymous call. Kind of a low female voice. She just said that she knew that Jeremy had given you a fake alibi.”
Tyler threaded his fingers through his long blond hair. “Shit.”
“You told me you didn’t think it was anything to worry about, Jeremy,” my mother said.
“Yeah, I did. At the time, I didn’t think it was.”
“And you changed your mind?” My mother’s face turned pale.
“I’m not sure. It could still be nothing. But there’s something I need to tell you guys. Something you have the right to know.”
“You’re not in any trouble, are you?” my mother said.
I raked my fingers through my hair, which was no doubt in complete disarray after the plane ride here. “Mom, we’ve all been in trouble since we made the decision we did seven years ago. The minute we decided I would be Tyler’s alibi, we knew there was always a chance it could come back and bite us in the ass.”
Tyler said nothing. Just stood, his body stiffening until he was as stationary as one of the exquisite tables he turned out from his shop.
My mother’s lips trembled. “But it’s been seven years, Jeremy. Seven years! What could possibly go wrong now?”
Alicia Hopkins. That was what could go wrong now.
“Can we sit down?” I asked.
Tyler was standing still, as if in a daze.
My mother went to him and touched his arm lightly. “Let’s go sit down in the kitchen, Ty.”
I followed my mother and my brother, my body numb, into the kitchen where I took a seat at her oak table. A beautiful piece that Tyler had specially crafted for her.
“Now tell us,” my mother said. “What is this all about, Jeremy?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Heather
I knocked on the door to my manager’s office.
“Yeah, come on in.”
Knox Jacobson sat behind his desk, looking as slimy as usual, balding with a bad comb-over. He hit on most of his waitresses, including me. I’d been able to keep him at arm’s length by spouting off some legal jargon that scared the hell out of him. My knowledge hadn’t seemed to help the other girls, though. I still heard stories of what went on in his office behind closed doors.
He looked up. “What is it, Heather?”
“I need to give you my two weeks’ notice, Knox. I’m going to be leaving the diner.”
“May I ask why?”
&n
bsp; It was none of his damned business. “I just want to focus more on my writing career. That’s all.”
“Oh? Did you sell?”
Why the hell did everyone ask me that? And what business was it of his anyway? “As a matter of fact, yes, I did sell something.”
“Really? Congratulations. What studio bought one of your scripts?”
Shit. Why had I lied? “I’m not at liberty to say just yet. Contract terms are still being negotiated.” There. That sounded good.
“I see.” He stood and walked around to me, holding out his hand. “I certainly wish you the best of luck.”
As distasteful as it was, I took his sweaty hand. “I appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me here, Knox.”
I turned to walk out of the office, when his hand came down on my ass.
I turned back, livid. “What the hell was that?”
“Just a little congratulatory pat. I didn’t mean anything by it, Heather.”
Such a swine! I walked backward to the door this time and left. Two weeks could not go by fast enough.
Susie, with Janet and Lindy in tow, came by at midnight when my shift was over.
“We’re on our way to a party at Zane Michaels’s house,” Lindy said. “And you’re coming with us.”
“I can’t, you guys. I’m dead on my feet.” No truer words. It had been an especially challenging shift. At least I had a pocket full of big tips to show for it.
“Oh, come on, girlfriend,” Lindy said. “Jan says you’re a great partier.”
I looked at Janet, and she smiled a teasing smile.
“The four of us could put on quite a show for Zane. And you know Jett will be there.” She winked.
Another reason I could not go to the party. I couldn’t see Jett again. I especially couldn’t see him showing interest in some other woman. After all, he’d had his fill of me. He’d staged a bomb threat just to be with me so he could get me out of his system.
I ought to be good and out of his system by now. After last night, nothing was left for us to do together.
“I really can’t,” I said again. “I’m exhausted, and I work the noon shift tomorrow.”
“So you didn’t give your notice?” Susie said.
“Oh, no. I did.”
“Then who gives a shit about the noon shift tomorrow? Show up late. Show up drunk. What does it matter?”
“It’s still my job, Suze. I still take it seriously.”
As much as I loved Susie, she had a lot of growing up to do. But as long as she got her jollies partying and fucking rock stars, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Sometimes you’re such a downer, Heather. We’ll be sure to tell Jett you said hi.” Susie turned.
“Now wait a minute, Suze,” Janet said. “I think you’re giving up too easily. And so are you, Heather. Let me tell you something. I’ve known Jett Draconis for a long time. Yeah, I’ve fucked him. Lindy has fucked him. Suze, you haven’t, but you haven’t been in this scene as long as we have. I’ve seen him with other women, with two, three, four at a time.”
Was this supposed to make me feel better?
She continued, “But what I saw last night? I’d never seen that before.”
“What do you mean?” Susie asked.
“Jett was possessive,” Janet said. “Possessive like I had never seen him. He damn near threw me off your pussy, girlfriend. And then he didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“So?” I said.
“I just told you. I’ve seen him with two and three and four women at a time. And he always gives equal attention to all of them.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Heather, that Jett is feeling something more for you. Something he has never felt for any woman that I’ve seen. Is it love? I have no idea. But it’s something. And if you’re feeling something more for him, you need to go to this party tonight.”
“You’re mistaken,” I said. “I know what Jett is about. He sets his sights on a woman and pursues her until he gets her into bed. Then he’s done. That’s all he did with me. He just had to work a little harder. By staging the bomb threat so he could ‘save’ me.”
“Girl, who told you that?” Lindy said.
“A friend of his. Alicia Hopkins.”
“That bitch?” Janet shook her head. “She’s lying to you. Jett would never stage a fake bomb threat at one of his concerts. That’s not who he is. He adores his fans, and he would never interrupt a concert they paid good money for just to get a woman into bed.”
My heart thundered. “You mean he jumped off the stage because he really thought he was saving me?” A lump formed in my throat and my skin grew warm.
“Of course he did,” Lindy said. “Jett may like to fuck a lot of women and engage in orgies, but one thing anyone who knows him will tell you is that at heart, he’s a good guy. A decent guy.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Could Jett really be feeling something more for me? I was head over heels in love with him. Obviously, he wasn’t there yet, but what if he could get there?
What if I could actually have a future with him?
I couldn’t hold back my smile any longer. “Ladies, let’s go to that party.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jett
Seven years earlier…
My brother’s eyes were feral, and blood stained his hands. He stood, immobile, staring at me as if he were looking through me.
“Fuck, Ty. What have you done?”
“I didn’t mean it, Jer. I meant to go over and scare him a little. I never thought…”
“Who? What?”
“That rapist Harley Massey. The police let him go. They fucking let him go!”
“Slow down, bro. What do you mean they let him go?”
“Not enough evidence. No probable cause to make an arrest. He can just rape my girlfriend, cause her suicide, and not even get a slap on the wrist. What the hell is wrong with our society, man?”
“Ty, it’s Renee’s word against his.”
He advanced toward me. “You calling Renee a liar?”
I held up my hand, stopping him. “No. Of course not.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. He admitted it to me. Said she had a hot little cunt. Goddamnit!” Tyler’s fist landed on the oak desk he’d made for me.
“He could be lying. Just trying to bait you.”
“He baited me, all right.”
My neck prickled. My brother was manic right now. More manic than I’d seen him in a long time. “Where’s your piece, Ty?”
“It’s in the car.”
“Man. All right. You stay here.”
I hurried out to my brother’s car and grabbed the gun from the passenger seat. It was cold, thank God. I breathed in relief as I brought it in.
“You didn’t use the gun. That’s good.”
“Never took it in.”
“Good. That’s good, man. But you’ve got”—I gulped—“blood on your hands.”
“It’s my own. The fucker bit me.”
Thank God! More relief surged through me. “You can press charges. Assault charges.”
“But I went to his place.”
“So? Did he let you in?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Then he had no right to attack you. I’m calling the cops.”
Tyler walked toward me and grabbed the cell phone from my hands, throwing it across the room. “You can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Harley’s dead.”
Images came crashing back. Forcing my brother into the shower. Then him crying in my arms as he described how he’d strangled Harley Massey with his bare hands. Then my interrogation.
Was Harley alone? Did anyone see you go into his place? Did anyone see you leave?
Yes.
No.
No. I don’t think so.
He was going to get away with it. With raping Renee. With causing her death. I couldn’t let i
t happen, Jer. I just couldn’t.
Mom had come home soon after, and the two of us devised a plan.
I’d been home alone all evening. That much was true. What wasn’t true was that Tyler had been with me.
But he was my big brother. A good guy, if a little impulsive. He was prone to manic attacks, so I made a deal with him and my mother.
Harley Massey was a scumbag with a drug and domestic violence record. No one would miss him. My brother was a mentally ill man but a creative genius. I’d give Tyler an alibi, and in exchange, he’d go into therapy for as long as it took to get his head on straight. Mom agreed to keep our secret.
My brother was as good as his word. With therapy and medication, his erratic behavior ceased, and he began to make something of himself. He grieved Renee, and he healed. After a year and a half, with him and Mom taken care of, I left for LA.
Zane and I had considered LA before, but I’d always begged out at the last minute. After the turmoil at home, though, and with Mom and Tyler doing well, I finally told Zane yes.
I needed a change.
So we went to LA.
And at a party, I met Alicia Hopkins.
The woman who created Jett Draconis and Zane Michaels.
The woman who held the fate of my family in her hands.
And now I had to tell them the truth.
“What is all this about, Jeremy?” my mother asked again.
“That anonymous call you got, Mom. It was a threat. Just not for you or Tyler. It was a threat for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
I sank my head into my hands, fighting back tears. How could I tell them I’d prostituted myself for fame and fortune? Made a deal with the devil to rise to the top, and if I reneged, we’d all go down?
“Hey, man,” Ty said. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We’ve been through worse, God knows.”
My brother was intelligent, but he had no idea what deep shit we were all in. Tyler could be tried for murder, and Mom and I could be tried as accessories after the fact.