Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  “Then why’s it fine to tell me now?” I asked, the sick feeling of dread creeping up my throat.

  “Because I keep an eye on Rosemary, but it’s mainly to keep an eye on that—that . . . Jordan. Once Mila told me who he was, what he’d threatened, what he did to her, seemed prudent. When Rosemary said Jordan was flying to Seattle—where you and Mila both were—” Mum swallowed hard. “I caught the next flight.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because . . . you really need to talk to Mila.” Mum sighed, her eyes and the tip of her nose reddening. “That car accident. It wasn’t one.”

  Shit. From the moment my mother appeared, I’d worried she might tell me I’d been wrong about Mila. “She was hit by a car. I read that,” I said. I rubbed my chest, trying to ease the bloody tightness there. Oh. Bloody hell. Mila’d written there’s a man from my past. I need to sort things with him if I can ever truly be with you properly. I’d thought she meant a lover. But I’d seen the bloke last night, felt her fear, but . . . Oh, bloody hell. She’d been hit by a car and miscarried. My baby. Gone. And I’d sung that song and made a point to make it in all the papers with as many women as possible.

  Oh. Fuck. No.

  I stood, needing to do something. If I didn’t get out, didn’t move, I was going to explode with the awfulness of the truths slamming into me. Jake stepped in front of me, his movements jerky. Unsure what to do.

  “No, Jakey. Let him go. Murphy has to deal with this,” I heard Mum say.

  But I wasn’t sure I could deal. She’d carried my bub. Left me, knowing that. Left me because of it, sounded like. My bub, dead. An innocent life snuffed out, much too soon, because of violence.

  I walked out the door, wracked with pain, sadness, and yes, guilt. I let Mila leave.

  Probably a good thing I didn’t have keys to a vehicle at the moment, as I couldn’t focus on anything other than the next step, next breath. Trying to out-walk the hurt ripping through my heart. I walked and walked and walked. My phone rang, and I fumbled to silence it. Eventually, I made it to the beach.

  By sheer luck, I’d headed north, toward Alki Beach, the closest I could come to our place. I glanced around, half expecting her, the Mila of my past, but she didn’t come out to haunt me.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and tipped my head up toward the storm cloud–studded sky. Anything to try to calm my raging thoughts.

  Didn’t work.

  She’d left to protect me and my family. The very reason I’d wanted her close—to keep her safe and happy. Why didn’t she tell me the truth?

  My head drooped and I tunneled my fingers through my hair, wishing—needing—to take back everything that happened since that moment when she walked out of that venue in Sydney nearly fourteen months ago.

  I wrote that song about her. Opened up our private life to the world so they could hate her, too.

  Not sure what else to do, I walked along the surf’s edge. Frigid water soaked my boots and jeans, but I kept walking. How else to move beyond the feelings swamping me?

  My phone rang, but I ignored it again.

  My heart broke for the child I never knew. The one I should have had with Mila. She’d been fragile beneath her tough exterior; it’s part of what drew me to her that first night. She’d refused to go out with me for months. Finally holding her in my arms, my lips touching hers, was the highlight of my life.

  What if the bub was a girl with Mila’s eyes? I’d never get to see them widen with surprise like Mila’s did when I brought her with flowers or that simple ring. I’d never hold my daughter, cuddle her. Tell her I love her.

  Because I did. Bollocks. Jake, the sneaky little shit, was right.

  I was angry, but if I’d asked Mila why, begged her to stay, maybe . . . maybe I’d be sitting with her and our child right now.

  My phone rang again.

  “What, Jake?”

  “Where are you? Mum’s worried.”

  I dropped my head to my knees. “Right. I’m on the beach. Send Ben to pick me up?”

  “Give a street name and we’ll be there in a few.”

  I headed back up the beach, straining to catch a glimpse of a street sign.

  Jake and Ben pulled up within minutes of me exiting the beach access and about a half minute before a younger, hungrier crowd mobbed me. My personal guard, Kevin, appeared—he’d probably been with me the whole time but I’d been too distracted to notice.

  “Bloody hell,” I said, slamming the car door shut. “Ferals everywhere these days.” One of the blokes slammed his hand against my window, causing me to jump. “The attention is even worse. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Harry was right to increase the security detail after Hayden and Briar’s big makeup in Amsterdam.”

  “Thanks, Kevin,” I said, reaching forward to clap him on the shoulder.

  “So what are you going to do?” Jake asked.

  “About what?” I asked. I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted to shut him out.

  “About Mila, dickhead.”

  “I’ll go see her. Hear what she has to say for herself.” I clenched my jaw, anger and hurt building into a noxious mass that sickened my gut. I had to hear her say it. I needed to look in her eyes when she told me why she left that day.

  “Not like that you won’t,” Jake said with a disgusted glance.

  “Like what?”

  “You’re covered in sand and your eyes have more red than any other color. You look hungover. And mean.”

  “Well, I’m not,” I snapped. “Didn’t touch a drop. And I’ve never raised my hand to a woman, Jake.”

  “First time for everything, I reckon,” Jake responded.

  “You think I’d do that?” Hurt seeped into my words. “After the way Dad treated Mum, you really think I could ever abuse a woman?”

  Jake repositioned his hands, his jaw clamped just as tight as mine.

  “No, I don’t. But, bloody hell, Murphy. This is serious. Dead serious. And Mila . . . She’s all alone.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I sighed, raking my hand through my disheveled hair. “I don’t know what to do about Mila. Not yet.”

  “I don’t want you to say anything, you idiot. I want you to be the brother you used to be. The one who walked me to school so I wouldn’t have to face Perry Evans and his gang of wankers by myself. The one who cares about a woman’s feelings and doesn’t discard her faster than a sweat towel.”

  “Thanks for the words of encouragement, mate.”

  “Why were you so shocked to hear the kid was yours?”

  “She told me she was with another bloke, that he’d been hanging around a while. He was older, knew her secrets. He was waiting for her outside and she had to go.” I turned my head to stare at my brother. “Do you think she tried to tell me something. Like in code?”

  My hands clenched into fists. Mila was so bloody smart. I’d bet my left nut she’d been trying to give me information. To tell me why, and I didn’t understand.

  “Sounds like,” Jake said.

  “From what Mum said, turns out she ran away to protect me. And if I’m right, she tried to tell me why that night but I was too stupid to understand.”

  “So now you’re angry with her about that, too?”

  “Hell, yes, I’m angry. She didn’t trust me to take care of her.” I rolled my head, but the tension in my neck and shoulders increased.

  “Do you think . . . was Mum’s attack related to her leaving?” Jake asked.

  My throat burned from the acid building in my stomach. “Timing’s about right.”

  Jake nodded as Ben pulled into the hotel’s parking garage. I shot out from the car, heading toward the elevator. I opened my hotel room and toed off my boots at the door, planning to toss the sand-crusted and water-logged mess in the bin later.

  I padded through the suite in my bare feet, thankful my mum stayed out of sight for the time being. Turning on the bath water, I turned toward the mirror and gasped, jumpin
g back in horror. A half dead bag of roadkill was more attractive than me. My eyes were redder than the crimson tides. Peeling off my sand-caked jeans and shirt, I stepped into the shower, clenched my teeth, and pressed my face into the hot stream of cleansing, pounding spray.

  I left the shower cleaner but more drained than ever. I wasn’t going anywhere just yet. Pulling on some boxers, I slumped against the sink’s edge. I was tired. No, worse. I was sick at heart. I pulled on some clothes and went in search of more caffeine.

  Mum puttered about the dining space, pulling some muffins out of a paper sack. So she’d been downstairs to purchase muffins. Great woman, my mum.

  “Coffee’s in the mug there, Murphy. I’ll get you a muffin before we talk more.”

  Mum fretted and clucked her way around the suite while I sipped the coffee she’d made me. Little kindnesses like this, these were the details that made life richer and—dare I say it?—happier. No one on the road cared to do more than shove a water or beer bottle in my hand. But Mum here, she’d doctored my coffee with cream and sugar, and she’d found my favorite muffins.

  I’m sure she’d gotten Jake’s, too. I liked blueberry and Jake always preferred banana nut. Even when money was so tight we weren’t sure we’d keep the house, Mum managed to make us muffins every Sunday.

  I pulled her into my side for a cuddle and kissed the top of her head. She glanced up at me, somewhere between exasperated and loving. Pretty much her standard expression for me these days.

  “Thanks, Mum. For the effort.”

  She patted my chest. “Now, none of that. Just drink up so you’re not angrier than a Tasmanian devil when I tell you the rest of what I know. Well, more show you.”

  With a groan I tipped the mug to my mouth and gulped down the rest of the coffee. Not that it would help so much.

  She pulled out her smartphone and pressed a few buttons. She flattened the case to her chest so I couldn’t see the screen. “I went to visit Rosemary Jones. I told you that. What I didn’t tell you was I videoed our conversation. In case you needed proof.” She raised her eyebrows.

  Everything in me stilled. I met her eyes, calm even as anger and hurt bubbled up into my chest.

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Murphy!”

  “You knew she was leaving!” I stood so fast, the chair shot out behind me, falling over.

  “Oi!” Jake said from the door. “Why are you yelling at Mum?”

  I pointed a shaking finger at my mother, the traitor. “She helped Mila leave.” Of course. Mum’s job at the passport office would make her the perfect person for Mila to visit.

  Mum had the decency to drop her eyes to the table. “It was only supposed to be for a short time. How was I supposed to know you’d give up on her like that?”

  With those words, I deflated. I had given up on Mila. I never called her, never went to see her, never tried to find out from her—the woman I’d told I’d love forever—what happened. Why she’d left.

  All this time . . . For more than a year, I’d operated under the sense I was the injured party. I stood, paced. I wanted to crack a tinnie or all twelve in the case. Nah. Beer wasn’t strong enough. I need a bottle of whiskey to drown out the pain ripping through my black bastard heart.

  “Are you finally ready to listen to what Mila has to say?” Mum asked, giving me back the glare. “That girl’s been through a lot, and I won’t have you hurting her more.”

  “I get that,” I gritted out. My jaw hurt from clamping it so tight. “I’m mad as a cut snake because where’s the loyalty, woman? I’m your bloody son!”

  Mum’s cheeks were ruddier than usual and those gray curls bristled out over her head. “My son, who disappointed me, and more importantly, the woman he loves and who loved him back. I taught you better than that!”

  “You should have told me,” I growled.

  Mum drew herself up, quivering with indignation. “How was I supposed to know you’d be such a tosser?”

  I opened my mouth but Jake’s quiet words stopped the spew of anger that might well have destroyed my relationship with my mum forever. I started, having forgotten he was in the room.

  “Could you talk to the police? Here but also in Sydney and Perth, too. Get them to coordinate the information. The Sydney police brought Jordan in because he was out front of Mum’s house. The Perth police have Mila’s car accident on record even if she didn’t file charges, they have to write a report, right? And the police here have the assault last night on file. Kevin and Ben might be able to help you navigate the system.”

  “Good call,” I said. I turned on my heel and stalked from the room.

  Jake knocked as I shoved the last of my clothes back into my suitcase. Unpacking was a ridiculous exercise.

  “You heading out then?”

  “Yeah. We were supposed to check out an hour ago. I’ll book some place for tonight once I talk to Mila. Hear the whole story from her.”

  “Good.”

  I zipped the bag and turned to him. “Did you know Mum helped her leave the country?”

  Jake shook his head. “No, mate. I knew what you did—that Mila left. I saw how much you were hurting. I would’ve told you. She was important to me, too.”

  Mila had been a part of our family. Until she wasn’t. I’d never considered he’d lost a sister as much as I’d lost my lover. I set the bag on the floor, satisfied.

  Jake and I grew up just thirteen months apart, which made us closer than most, I reckoned. The loss of Logan, the baby brother we’d both wanted, unified us further.

  “Aren’t you going to talk to Mum about her part?” Jake asked. I flicked my eyes up, and Jake stepped back. “I take that as a no.”

  “Nothing she says will help right now.” I slid my hands into my hair and dug my fingers into my scalp, my palms pressed to my eyes. “What if the bub had Mila’s eyes? Her smile? She’d be crawling, possibly walking. Talking, I think.”

  That ate at me. What could have been. Of course I would’ve taken care of Mila and our baby. I would’ve quit the band and worked ten jobs to provide for her. This life of luxury, of constant high-profile dates, security guards and paparazzi, would be a pipedream I wouldn’t know to wish away. Much as I disliked some aspects of the fame, the financial perks outweighed the downside of being noticed wherever I went. But the price of wealth—losing Mila, our baby—that was too high.

  “Would it help if I came with you to the police department? To see Mila?”

  I dropped my hands and looked at my brother. Even after all the problems I stirred up this year, Jake wanted to help.

  “I’m ’right, mate. You have your holidays.”

  He swallowed hard. I waited. Jake handed me a paper with an American number in my mum’s sharp handwriting.

  “This Mila’s number?”

  “Probably,” Jake said. “Mum told me what Jordan said to Mila after he mowed her down with the car in Perth. He said he’d kill Mila before she got back with you.”

  “Well, isn’t that fantastic?”

  “Reckoned you should tell the police here,” Jake said with a shrug.

  “Will do.”

  “Do police departments work together and share information?”

  I scratched my chin. “From what the detective here said when I called in, the case is international. But he didn’t tell me if they have to go through a national agency here.”

  “Like Interpol?” Jake asked.

  “Don’t think the Yanks use Interpol. The FBI, CIA. At least, those are the names of the agencies in those crime dramas Mum likes to watch.” I smirked. “We never did get to know the inner workings of police departments.”

  Jake grinned back. “Right-o. Mum would’ve killed us dead.”

  I snorted. “I’ve called in a favor to fly you and Mum home. Private,” I said, patting my pockets to reconfirm my phone, wallet, and passport were where they should be. “Best pilot I could find. Decades of experience and heaps of credentials. Should help ease Mum’s worrie
s. Flight leaves in a couple of hours. Ben’s going back with you. No arguments. Not now that we know Jordan is the one who threatened Mum and why.” I let him see the worry building in my eyes. “Kevin will stick with you until you’re on the flight. I want to know Mum’s safe. You’ll do that—keep Mum safe?—while I sort this mess here?”

  “Course, Murphy. I’ll help any way I can.”

  “Flip make it on to his flight?”

  “Yep. Should be home tonight.”

  “Let him know what’s happening, will you?”

  Jake nodded. “Mum’s not going to handle the flight home well. She’s already tetchy.”

  “She might not want to go, but I don’t want her in the same city as this Jordan bloke. He’s already threatened her. You, too.” I tugged at my eyebrow ring. “His hands on Mila last night . . . she’s tiny. He hurt her, Jake. That’s why she was so scared.”

  Jake cleared his throat. “There’s something else you should know. That Mum told me.” Jake met my eyes, his uncertain. “Mum said Jordan found her from that picture of you in the paper.”

  There’d only been one of Mila and me. We were in front of a jewelry store in Darling Harbor and I’d kissed the ring I slid onto her finger. My lowest moment, that, showing the world my feelings only to have them slapped back in my face.

  I let the dig slide and stepped in so I could hug him. “Thanks, mate. Take care of Mum.”

  Jake pounded my back, both of us teary-eyed.

  “Kinda funny. I need to fix shit with two people, and they’re both here.”

  “Fate is alive and well,” Jake said, a ghost of a smile sliding across his lips. “Good luck.”

  “Who with?”

  “You’re going to need it with both. Hayden’s royal angry, but I have a feeling Mila’s going to be harder to win over. Especially once Hayden hears the full story about Mila and you. That bloke has a heart softer than a fresh marshmallow.”

  I picked up my bag and squared my shoulders. “If I hadn’t been such a wanker about her dumping me, Jordan wouldn’t have hurt her. She has every reason to hate me.”

  “You reckon she does?”

  I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Gonna find out.”