Gabriel's Storm

by Sue Brown

  “Bloody hell,” Sam said.

  Gabriel expelled a noisy breath. “Well, that answers that question. Now we know who you are.”

  Sam’s face stared out at them, his copper hair gleaming under the lights, an electric guitar in his hands under the headline Pop Star Missing on His Birthday.

  “My God, this is me.” Sam reached out with trembling fingers to touch his face on the screen.

  “You’re exactly who they said you were. And look, your name really is Sam.” Gabriel pointed to Storm’s wiki entry, which gave his real name as Samuel Adam Maitland.

  “No wonder it felt right,” Sam murmured. “And my birthday was five days ago.”

  Christ, he was only just twenty-three.

  Gabriel clicked on one of the many articles and scanned it briefly. It didn’t tell him much other than that Storm’s set at Reading Festival had been a success. He tried another article, this time an interview with a tabloid newspaper. The image was of Storm, sat on the dock of a lake, wearing denim shorts and a tight white T-shirt, his feet dangling in the water as he played an acoustic guitar.

  “I have a brother.” Sam sounded strangled. “He’s my manager.”

  “He must be worried about you,” Gabriel said quietly.

  He could focus on Sam’s brother and how anguished he must be feeling. That was normal. This… this was not normal. Every article, every image, was like a slap in the face. He couldn’t deny Sam’s identity anymore. He’d always known this moment would come, and Sam would find out who he really was, but not for one moment did he think Sam would be famous. He’d imagined…. Hell, he had no idea what he’d imagined, but not this. There was no way Sam would stay in his life now. Gabriel looked at the images. He’d toured the world, been invited to premieres, shaken hands with Prince Harry for God’s sake. Storm Maitland was on his way to being an A-lister.

  “Gabriel?” Sam’s voice cracked.

  He turned to look at Sam, expecting to see relief, and instead saw the utter terror in his eyes. Gabriel recognised that fear. He’d felt it himself when he reached the beach where his wife and son should be and found only one of Michael’s shoes. He’d felt that fear when the coastguard returned with no news, time after time. And the knowledge that he would be alone forever when he realised Jenny and Michael were surely dead was all-consuming. That fear consumed Sam now. He was looking at a stranger on a screen who was supposed to be him.

  “It’s okay,” Gabriel said automatically.

  Sam shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s not okay. I don’t know who he is.” He pointed at the screen at an image of himself at an award ceremony. “He looks like me, but I don’t remember him.”

  The pain in his voice broke Gabriel’s heart. He hauled Sam against his chest and wrapped him in his arms. “It’s okay.” And he meant it this time. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Sam buried his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck. “I can’t do this by myself.” He felt hot tears slake his skin. Sam was obviously scared, and who wouldn’t be, faced with such an unknown reality.

  “I promised you weren’t alone, and I mean it.” Gabriel held on tight to Sam and waited for the tears to cease. He murmured soothing words into Sam’s hair, the meaning unimportant. He just needed Sam to know Gabriel had his back.

  As he held the shaking man, Gabriel was uncomfortably aware the clock was ticking. No way would Lisa and her family keep quiet on the biggest news story of the year. Sam was going to have to call someone soon and let them know he was alive.

  Finally Sam pulled away and sat up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, refusing to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

  Gabriel was confused. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For falling apart over something so stupid.” He sniffed, and Gabriel reached over to a side table and tossed him a box of tissues. “Thanks.” Sam blew his nose noisily. “I find out who I am, and then I fall apart. I’m such an idiot.”

  Gabriel ran his finger down Sam’s wet cheek. “You’re not an idiot. You’re just a bit overwhelmed at the moment. It’s not as though you remember Storm Maitland, rock god.”

  Sam snorted. “I don’t even know what kind of music I write.”

  Gabriel was embarrassed to admit he had no clue either, but he did have an idea. “You’ve got to be on YouTube or Spotify.”

  Sam nodded and gave a wan smile. “You’d think I’d remember something about my music if not my life.”

  Gabriel went onto Spotify and searched for Storm Maitland.

  “Wow,” Sam said faintly. “This is real. I’m real.”

  “Let’s hear you.” Gabriel played the latest album and leaned back into the sofa, pulling Sam against him, wrapping an arm around his chest and his hand over Sam’s heart. He wanted Sam to know he was safe as he listened to himself.

  Gabriel was more of a hard rock than pop fan, but he had to admit Sam was good, his voice soaring in plaintive melody. The song reminded Gabriel of early morning sunrises gazing out over the sea. “Is anything familiar?”

  Sam tilted his head to look up at Gabriel. “It sounds stupid, but there’s nothing. I don’t recognise the words or the melody. It’s all blank. If I write music, shouldn’t I remember something?”

  “I don’t know anything about amnesia beyond what Toby told me, but….” Gabriel hesitated for a long time before he took Sam’s hand. “Your only memory is of someone trying to kill you. It’s not surprising you don’t want to remember who you are. You might be trying to blank it out.”

  The silence in the cottage seemed to stretch on for an eternity before Sam shuddered and held tightly on to Gabriel’s hand. “If you’re right and I make that call, what am I going back to?”

  “You’re not going anywhere until we both know it’s safe,” Gabriel insisted. “I don’t care what your record company says. You can stay here until they investigate who’s trying to kill you.”

  Gabriel didn’t say that he didn’t want Sam to leave him. He didn’t have that right.

  Sam gave him a grateful, if doubtful smile. “I need to talk to my brother. Tell him what happened. Maybe I need security.”

  “Don’t all pop stars have bodyguards?”

  Sam’s eyebrow flew up. “You’re asking me? The pop star with no memory?”

  Gabriel grinned at him. “You have a point.”

  “I’m not going to be much use to the record company if I can’t remember any of my songs.”

  “That’s what lyrics and sheet music are for,” Gabriel said.

  Sam sat up, and Gabriel missed the warmth of his body. “Your guitar? Can I…., I mean….”

  “I’ll get it.” Gabriel unfolded his length from the sofa and stood. “Is it in your bedroom?”

  Sam’s bedroom, not Michael’s.

  Gabriel swallowed hard as he realised what he’d said.

  “It’s on the bed,” Sam said gently, brushing the back of Gabriel’s hand.

  “Okay.” Gabriel smiled down at Sam. “Okay.”

  He left the room before he made a complete tit of himself and went into the small bedroom. The guitar was at the foot of the bed. He picked it up and held it in both hands. Michael had spent hours playing the guitar, resisting all Gabriel’s attempts to replace it with a new one. Now Sam played it too, with the same care and devotion his son had shown. How could he have found two people who loved this battered old guitar?

  Gabriel went back into the great room to see Sam staring at the photo of himself on the laptop screen. This was not a man who was happy to have discovered who he truly was. He looked scared, and Gabriel wanted to shut the laptop and tell him not to make that phone call. He could stay here and be plain old Sam for the rest of his life. Then Sam looked up, and his smile eased some of the worry in Gabriel’s heart.

  “Let’s see if I can remember any of my music,” Sam murmured, taking the guitar from Gabriel as he sat down on his chair, this time to give Sam room to play.r />
  Gabriel watched as Sam closed his eyes, his hands over the strings. He played a few notes and paused, his lips pressing together in frustration.

  “It’s okay if you can’t remember, Sam,” Gabriel tried to reassure him. “It will come back in time.”

  Discordant notes made him flinch, and he wanted to take his guitar away from the abuse, but then Sam sighed and placed his hand flat against the strings.

  “I should know now,” Sam cried out.

  “You will do,” Gabriel promised.

  “It’s there. I can feel it. Like there’s a veil in place, and I can’t tear it down.” Sam ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

  Gabriel sought for something to make Sam feel better. “We could go for a walk.”

  “No.” Sam shook his head vehemently. “I don’t want to go out there.”

  Gabriel understood. He wanted to shut out the world and forget it existed. He moved so he was beside Sam again and took the guitar out of his hands. Then he turned to face Sam, tucked one leg underneath him, and cupped Sam’s jaw. “You are safe with me, I promise. In here no one can get you.”

  “You saved me once,” Sam said. “You can’t keep saving me. I’ve got to face the world at some point.”

  “Then you face it with me by your side,” Gabriel insisted. “I know what it’s like to be alone, Sam. I had Toby and Damien, and I still felt like I was alone forever.”

  A tear spilled onto Sam’s cheek, and he impatiently dashed it away. “I’ve got to make that fucking call.”

  “I could call them for you,” Gabriel offered.

  Sam hesitated, and Gabriel could see he wanted to accept, but finally he shook his head. “I’ll do it. May I borrow your phone?”

  “Of course.”

  Gabriel picked it up from beside the laptop and handed it to Sam, who stared at it for a long moment. Jenny and Michael smiled back at them both.

  “Sam?” Gabriel was afraid to know what he was thinking.

  He turned to smile at Gabriel, and Gabriel ached at the pain clearly etched, although Sam tried to hide it.

  “It’s time I jumped off the cliff,” Sam said and tapped out the number.

  Chapter 16—Sam

  “COLDSTAR RECORDS. How may I help you?” A professional female voice answered the phone. Sam thought it sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Hi… um… my name is Sam…. Storm Maitland. I think you might be looking for me.” Sam stumbled over his name, not sure whether they knew him as Storm or Sam.

  “All leads regarding Storm have to be sent to the police,” she said in a bored tone, with the long-suffering patience of one who had said that many times before.

  “We tried that already,” Sam muttered. “I don’t have a lead on Storm. I am Storm. I think.”

  “You think?” She sounded incredulous.

  “I’m suffering from amnesia.”

  “Nice try, mate. Go to A&E.”

  She disconnected the call.

  Sam listened to the nothingness for a moment and then stared at Gabriel. “She hung up on me.”

  “She did what?”

  “The receptionist hung up on me.”

  Gabriel huffed and took the phone, redialling the same number Sam had a couple of moments before.

  Sam heard the “Coldstar Records. How may I help you?” before Gabriel started to speak.

  “Listen,” Gabriel snapped, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “My name is Gabriel Pennant. I have Storm Maitland sitting beside me. No, this isn’t a joke. He has amnesia, and we’ve just found out who he is. Now put me through to the CEO or someone with authority.”

  It was ridiculous, but Sam grew hard at Gabriel’s dominating tone. He’d seen Gabriel in a number of moods, but demanding Gabriel was very sexy.

  Unaware of Sam’s sudden and inappropriate lustful feelings, Gabriel listened before he spoke again. “And who are you?”

  Nerves curled through Sam as he waited, not sure who Gabriel was talking to. At least they hadn’t hung up on him.

  “Yes, it is. You want proof? Give me an email address or phone number and I’ll send you a photo.”

  Gabriel scribbled something on a notepad on the table and disconnected the call after a terse “You have caller ID?”

  He looked at Sam, who clutched his hands together. “I’ve just spoken to Graham Baines, the CEO. He wants proof it’s you.”

  Sam furrowed his brow. “Like what?”

  Gabriel held up his phone. “I’ll take a photo of you.”

  Right. Sam ran his hand through his hair. That was stupid of him. Of course they wanted to see a photo to prove it was him. Gabriel snapped one and sent it. Two minutes later, the phone rang.

  Gabriel answered it. “Hello. Yes, he’s here.” He held the phone out to Sam. “They want to talk to you.”

  Sam took the phone with trembling fingers. “Hello?”

  “Storm. Is that you?”

  The voice blasted down the phone at him, and he flinched. Gabriel put a hand on his knee. The touch was comforting and soothed him.

  “Yes. At least I think so.”

  “Storm, baby, oh thank God. We thought you were dead.”

  “Not dead yet,” Sam said tightly.

  “Baby, Nessa’s on the phone to Colin. Give me your address, and we’ll get security down to pick you up immediately.”

  Sam shook his head, even though they couldn’t see. He knew Gabriel would hate having his home invaded by people he didn’t know. Who were Nessa and Colin? Colin sounded familiar. Then he remembered Colin was his brother. “I could come to you.”

  “You stay there. We don’t want to lose you again. What’s your address?”

  “I don’t know. I need to ask Gabriel.” Sam looked at Gabriel. “He wants this address.”

  Gabriel held his hand out and took the phone again. “Hi. This is my address.” He reeled it off, confirming it when Baines repeated it back. Then he handed Sam the phone. “Baines wants to talk to you again.”

  Sam nodded and took it, forcing himself to remain calm as he said, “I’m here.”

  “Colin is on his way,” Baines said. “He’s at your place so he’s closest to you.”

  “My place?”

  “Your home. You live in Devon, remember?”

  “No. I don’t remember anything about my life at all.”

  Except that someone tried to kill me and I can’t remember who it is.

  “It’s okay,” Gabriel murmured.

  Sam wished Gabriel would stop saying that. Nothing was okay. “How long will he take to get here?” he asked Baines.

  “A couple of hours. He’s in a business meeting, but as soon as he’s done, he’ll be on his way to you.”

  So much for being concerned about his missing brother. Sam’s fingers tightened around the phone.

  “Okay, then. Can you ask him to bring clothes for me?”

  “Sure, sure,” Baines said. “God, it’s so good to have you back, Storm. I’ve got a lot of people to tell. We’ll need to get you checked out by a doctor.”

  That reminded Sam of Lisa. “I’m going to send you the name and number of a teenage girl and her mum. The girl is the one who kind of found me. She deserves the reward.”

  “How did she find you?”

  “Kissing a guy on a clifftop.”

  If Baines had an issue with his sexuality, he could get fucked. Did he know Storm was gay? He must do. Lisa knew, therefore Storm Maitland had to be out of the closet. Then Sam saw Gabriel’s eyes widen. Oh hell, would Gabriel freak at any publicity? He couldn’t expose this private and grieving man to the tabloids.

  Baines squealed in his ears. “That’s fantastic. We can spin that one. I’ll get publicity on it now.”

  “No. Wait!”

  But Sam was talking to himself. Baines had hung up.

  He cast a wary glance at Gabriel’s closed-off expression. “I won’t drag you into the publicity,” Sam promised.

  “I don’t think that’s a pro
mise you can make,” Gabriel said, his tone so icy it sent chills down Sam’s spine.

  “Why not?” Sam demanded.

  “We were caught kissing in public. Lisa and her family will have exclusives with the tabloids before the day is out.”

  “Then we’ll throw more money at them to keep them quiet.”

  Gabriel curled his lip. “Is that your answer to everything? Throw money at it to make it go away?”

  “I don’t know!” Sam yelled. “I don’t remember.”

  Gabriel’s derisive grunt made him narrow his eyes.

  “You don’t believe me? You think I’ve been faking the amnesia?” When Gabriel didn’t answer, Sam got to his feet. “I guess that’s my answer. What the hell did you think I was pretending to have lost my memory for? A holiday? A few days in a dead woman’s clothes?” Gabriel flinched, and Sam flinched too, desperately wanting to apologise for hurting him, but anger was still coursing through his veins. He stepped away and shook his head. “I thought better of you, Gabriel.”

  He headed for the door, desperate not to show how betrayed he felt.

  “Where are you going?” Gabriel said, his voice raw and angry.

  “Outside, away from here.”

  Away from you.

  Sam had almost reached the front door when Gabriel stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “You can’t take off like this. We need to talk.”

  Sam fixed his gaze on the peeling paintwork of the front door, because if he looked into Gabriel’s eyes, he would be lost. “I don’t think there’s anything to say.”

  Gabriel tightened his hands around Sam’s bicep. “Don’t go.”

  “Do you think I’m faking?”

  Gabriel expelled a loud huff. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to say.”

  “Do you want to be caught up in the publicity of my return?”

  Just looking at the reams of articles about Storm—him—Sam knew his reappearance would be on the front pages of the media for days. Gabriel was a private man. How could he deal with such publicity? Gabriel’s next words confirmed his fear.