“He was there, too?”
I nod, and then look around. The last thing I want is for Callie or Everett to suddenly appear. “She called him while I was with you. He came out of nowhere, and we got in a fight.”
“So that’s why you had a bloody lip and a black eye,” she says. “Why don’t you tell someone?”
I bark out a laugh. “How would it look for me to tell the cops that my dad beat my ass so hard that he put me in the hospital for a week?”
Her eyes grow even wider before she says, “Like he committed a crime.”
“Baby girl, I committed a crime by leaving you there.”
“One day, Jackson, you’re going to have to stand up to your dad, and not let him bully you, with his words or his fists,” she finally says.
It’s not the forgiveness I wanted, or even an indication that I’m absolved of what I didn’t do.
I walk away, not sure what to say next. But it’s off my chest, and it’s one less sin I need to atone for.
***
For some reason I think it’s a really good idea to go looking for Bliss, mostly because I want to apologize. Or so I tell myself.
A few inquiries and I learn that she’s hiding out in the huge trailer that holds all of our instruments, wardrobe, and extra equipment.
She’s sitting on the floor, hunched over something while she hums—way off key. I don’t find it cute, not at all.
Her hair is loose tonight, falling forward and exposing the back of her neck.
I swallow at the sight. “Hey.”
The humming stops.
“Hey yourself,” she says, turning slightly. There’s a couple of my shirts and one of Callie’s dresses on a white sheet beside her.
“So I’ve come to apologize.”
Her gaze rakes over me. “Why?”
“Because I wasn’t myself that night, and I was angry, and I took it out on you. Normally, I don’t say things like that.”
One corner of her mouths lifts. “I bring out the best in you, huh?”
I shake my head. “No one can bring out the best in me.” Mostly because the best in me has left.
“That’s a pretty sucky attitude to have.” A flash of attitude from the mostly quiet Bliss? Now this is interesting.
“Maybe so,” I say. “Well, I gotta go. Just wanted to apologize for my asinine behavior.”
She returns to her work. “Okay.”
I head out of there, and it’s not until I’m back at my bus that I realize she never said she forgave me. What am I to these females—the most unforgivable creature on the planet?
***
The very next day, I go looking for Bliss again and find her in the same place, in the same spot, doing the same thing.
Nodding at the shirts, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“Sewing on buttons, repairing little rips,” she says. “You can sit down with me, if you like.”
Against my better judgment, I do sit down with her, watching as she sews up a little hole at the hem of one of Violet’s dresses. “Is that hard to do?”
She pauses, smiling shyly at me. “Is playing guitar in front of thousands and thousands of people hard to do?”
Actually, I’ve played in front of millions and millions on television. “Not anymore.”
“There’s your answer,” she says, and then goes back to sewing.
I don’t think she’s being dismissive. I think she’s turning the conversation back on me. I also think she’s hiding something.
“At least try, for me,” I say, giving her a friendly smile she can’t see.
“If I do, will you stop interrupting me work?”
Okay, so that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. “Sure. Give me a minute to grab a guitar.”
After finding one of mine, I head back to her spot. The clothes are put away and she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“Ready?”
She sighs and I sit beside her. “As I’ll ever be. But really, Jaxon, I’m—”
I press a finger to her full lips. “Hush. You can learn.”
“First I’ll teach you a simple song.”
“Why not just the chords?”
“Easier to learn a song.”
“Easier for you, maybe,” she grumbles.
I laugh. “Would you stop and let me teach you?”
She smiles and then presses her lips together, nodding. I scoot closer to her, so that we’re touching thigh to thigh, and realize it won’t work this way. “Hold this.”
Bliss takes my guitar and before she can protest, I lift her up and settle her down in my lap. Her ass wiggles against my groin, and I bite back a groan, my fingers tightening and digging into the fabric of her jeans. Damn, but she’s firm, soft, and curvy. Everywhere.
And I’m getting hard.
“Pay attention,” I murmur into her silky curls, more to myself than her. I adjust her hands and fingers just so, pressing the guitar against her. “I’ll play with you the first couple of times.”
“Okay.”
Not much for words, but I’m okay with that. Slowly, I strum our fingers over the strings, making sure to keep her first and third fingers in the proper position at the neck, over and over again.
Suddenly she sits up straighter. “I know this song!”
“Everyone knows Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” I say, resting my chin on her shoulder. Bad move, because she shifts slightly and I can see down her shirt. Her chest rises and falls. The tops of her perfect, round tits teasing me. “You do it this time; I’ll watch your fingers move.”
“What if I can’t remember what to do?”
I slide my hand over hers, fingers gliding between hers. “I’ll take over. Remember, I’m the teacher and you’re the student. It’s my job to show you… everything.”
I feel rather than hear her sharp intake of breath. “Everything?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Moving our hands, I run her palm over the smooth grain of the wood, up and over the strings, repeating the motion. “How to touch, how to stroke… where to coax just the right note and keep it going for as long as you can.”
Bliss turns toward me, her lips inches from mine. Her sweet breath coming in little puffs of air. “Jackson, I don’t think—”
“Not thinking is a great idea.” I’m ready to throw the guitar to the side and Bliss to the floor. All I want to do is taste her lips, feel them move under mine as I sink inside of her.
Footsteps sound and I look up. Callie is standing there, pissed as anything. “How could you?”
Bliss scrambles out of my lap and my guitar crashes to the floor. “We’re… he was… I… nothing happened,” she says before she runs out the trailer.
“Didn’t look like nothing to me.” Callie’s expression turns bland right after Bliss passes her. “He’s mine and blah, blah, all that crap.”
I hate when Callie does crap like this. She couldn’t give two shits who I screw, not really. It’s the pretense of it all that she demands I maintain. “What do you want?” I ask, picking up my guitar and standing. I check it for cracks and rub at a smudge in the shine with my shirt.
She sashays over to me. “We haven’t been spending a lot of time together lately.”
“That’s because I don’t like you.”
With a little sigh, she lays her head on my shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what you like, baby doll. You’re mine, until the end of it all.”
The end couldn’t come fast enough. “Aren’t you tired of pretending, Callie?”
“Not until after this tour and my career is gold. Only then will I set you free,” she says theatrically.
“Do you really think he’ll leave her?” I snap.
Then she says the one thing that turns my body cold. “I don’t care anymore, Jaxon. All that’s important to me is my career. You, your dad… this tour, is all a stepping stone.
“I’m done, Callie. We’re though.” I shrug her away. “Go find another guy to play your beard.”
“You remember that girl, down in Atlanta? Only fifteen years old and pregnant.” Making a little tsking sound, she pats my shoulder. “Sure would hate for that to get out about you.”
Damn Everett Morgan. “A simple DNA test would prove that it’s not mine.”
“A simple DNA test wouldn’t disprove an allegation that you two hooked up.” Looking up at me, her brown eyes grow cold. “Can you imagine what would happen in the meantime? Especially in light of you paying her off.”
I grit my teeth. “I didn’t pay her off.”
“Money came from your bank account,” Callie says softly, no mocking. Just plain and utter truth in her gaze. “So far, her family has agreed to keep things quiet, but you know how greedy people get.”
A cold sweat breaks over my body. Jesus. She’s not lying. “Fine. We can grab dinner tonight.”
“And you have to be seen leaving my room the next morning.”
I scrub a hand over my face. I’d only met Tara once, when she’d won an audition through a local radio contest. She’d come to the studio, all tiny and blonde. As soon I’d seen her, dread had coated my insides.
As soon as Everett had laid eyes on her and that lecherous smile had taken over his face, I thought I was going to throw up. But after she told us her age, barely fifteen years old and a sophomore in high school, I thought she was safe.
I had been wrong.
Chapter Twenty-One
Violet
In my hurry to get back to my bus, I ram into Everett. “Where’s the fire?” he says, catching me before I hit the ground. He runs his hands down my arms, checking my hands for scrapes and bruises. “Can’t have my best girl hurt before the show.”
In the past, my skin wouldn’t have crawled when he touched me, but now, knowing how much he hurt Cole and his family, coupled with what he did to Jackson and me, it feels like a thousand spiders are marching across my skin.
“I’m fine,” I say, wanting to get away, from him, from his son… from this entire tour. “Just tired.”
He releases me, eyes so much like Cole’s that I have to look away. “Go on, then. I’ll send someone over with some hot tea and honey for you to drink. Your voice sounds a little off.”
A little off? I want to scream. You beat your son half to death and left me by myself, when I needed someone the most. But I can’t prove it, and I feel so trapped by everything that all I want to do is hide.
I make myself walk slowly to the side door of the bus and walk in like nothing’s bothering me.
Only before I can take two steps, Callie slams the new girl into me.
“You little slut.”
Joy Anne tells me to move out of the way. I do.
They two of them fall out fighting, literally. They’re in the floor, pulling hair and kicking. When my brain finally starts working again, I run out of the bus, screaming for help.
Two security guards, local cops that were off duty, head my way.
“Bus. Girl. Fight,” is all I can get out.
I slump against the conversion van. Bliss comes out of nowhere, standing beside me.
“That’s why I rode in the van,” she says.
“Want some company?”
She giggles.
We hear a scream, and then a bunch of words that make no sense at all. Finally, the guys come out, a girl each. And they’re still trying to get at each other.
“Damn Jaxon, and his horn dog ways.” I turn to her. “That’s why you should stay away from him.”
Bliss shakes her head, pushing her glasses back up and on her nose. “He didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“Honey, you don’t know Jaxon like I do.”
She doesn’t get angry. Instead, she sighs and runs a hand through her long curls. “I know, but I do know this.”
“Bitch,” Callie spits, as the cops cuff her and Joy Anne. “Whore.”
“Slut,” Joy Anne screams. “He’s mine, not yours. You’re too old for him anyway.”
Bliss and I don’t say a word, just watch as they take her away.
“And you,” Callie rounds on Jaxon. Everett’s standing beside him, and he takes Jaxon by the arm, jerking him back a little. “We’re over, you hear me? Over. Take your ring, your engagement story, and shove it all up your ass.”
Jaxon grins big like some great weight has been lifted from his shoulders while Everett looks shocked as hell—not that I can blame him. It’s not every day that both of your opening acts loses their dang minds.
“I’ll be a gentleman, and let you keep the ring, Callie,” Jaxon says.
She lunges at him, but the cops spin her around and march her off in the opposite direction.
Joy Anne calls Callie a name I’ve never heard anyone say in polite company. Suddenly, Callie breaks free, knees one of the cops in the groin, and jumps on top of the other girl.
“That a sure fire way to go to jail,” Bliss says.
The second cop grabs Callie, but she rears back and bites him. He grunts in pain and pulls her off Joy Anne.
“Ouch.” I wince. “Hope he’s up to date on all his shots.”
Bliss and I laugh. What else can you do when two people go all Jerry Springer on each other, over a guy?
“Tonight’s show is cancelled,” Everett informs the stage manager. “Give everyone back their money and a free ticket to the next show.”
“Want to grab something to eat in a little while?” I ask Bliss. I still need time to think and sort things out. But I don’t want to be alone tonight, and Jaxon is my only other alternative.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I need to finish up my sewing.”
“You don’t have to talk, Bliss,” I say softly. “I just need some company with someone who won’t judge me.”
Her eyes turn sympathetic. “Don’t we all?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jaxon
After today’s drama, I feel so damn free that I want to shout. I want to run away and not come back for a year. Just be a normal guy, with a normal life.
Last night I actually went out to a bar, by myself, and drank and shot pool… and talked shit. Flirted with some girls. Then I went back to my hotel by myself and slept.
I dodge a roadie and nod at the stage manager. “Rehearsals won’t be until tonight at ten.”
“See you then.” I rub my hands together. Finally, this tour is what it needs to be, just Violet and me.
Now Violet will have to take me seriously. Everything is over with Callie and we can put this behind us. We can start over.
So of course, this means the first person I seek out is Bliss.
She’s in her normal spot, listening to “Cups” and humming out of tune.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. She pauses for just a minute, and then returns to sewing on a button.
“Because I know how, and it’s a waste of time and money to send them somewhere and have to wait for them to be repaired, cleaned, and sent back.”
“Is that what Anita said?”
“No.”
“So my dad is making you do this?”
She sighs. “No one is making me do anything, Mr. Hunter. It’s my job.”
Mr. Hunter? Who am I—her professor? “If you teach me how to sew, then I’ll teach you how to play another song, Miss Davenport.”
“I’ll be happy to teach you, but I’m tone deaf and after our lesson yesterday, I’m a little reluctant to start again.”
Her response makes me grin. It’s easy being with Bliss. There’s no drama and all honesty. “No one’s actually tone deaf.”
“What about people who really are deaf?”
“There are degrees of deafness,” I inform her. I am the not-so-useless facts King. I read books about random crap on my iPad all the time. “And everyone can pick up on vibrations, on the beat… you feel it in your entire body. It’s just natural.” I lower my voice. “Primal.”
Bliss snorts. “You’re so pretty, Jaxon.”
I give her
a look. “Do I detect a little sarcasm?”
“No.”
Before I can respond to that, she grins and says, “You detect a lot of sarcasm.”
Laughing, I tilt my head to one side. “Want to go to dinner with me?”
Her face turns pink. “I can’t.”
“I don’t mean as a date, more like friends. I’ll bring my sarcasm detector.” What in the hell am I saying?
“I already promised Violet to go with her again.”
“Fine.” I shrug. “I’ll be the third wheel.”
Bliss stands, dusting off her ass with her hands. As she does, I take in today’s outfit. She’s wearing jeans and a green top, nothing sexy or plain. Just there, like her. “She thinks you’re the reason why Callie and Joy Anne got in a fight.”
Violet would think that. Then again, everyone thinks that about me. But right now, I only care about what Bliss thinks. “And you?”
She looks away, her glasses sliding down her nose. How can she see anything out of those? The lenses are scratched to hell and the indentations on her nose from the frames can’t be comfortable.
“I told her that you weren’t the reason for their fight.”
That’s good, I think. Violet might listen to an impartial party i.e. Bliss Davenport. But I’m not content with that. I want know why Bliss bothered to tell her in the first place. “How are you so sure?”
I lean into her, bracing my hand against the metal wall behind her head. Her chest rises and falls like crazy. My heart is pounding, waiting for her answer.
“I’m not—” Her tongue darts out, licking her top lip, and I want to lick her there, too. Actually, I want to lick her everywhere.
“It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“I saw your dad take Joy Anne into your bus with him, and not come out for a long, long time. Callie knocked on the door, but when they didn’t answer, she got all mad and tried to open it.”
My face flushes hot as my body turns cold.
“I’m so sorry, Jaxon.”
I straighten, not wanting to hear anymore. I’m so damn tired of Everett and his ways. “It’s not your fault. Callie overreacted.” Overreacted was putting it mildly.
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