by Joanna Blake
"It's good to hear that I rate so high on your ranking system, Nick. But I'm not interested in being another number."
"What the bloody hell are you talking about? You're not a fucking number to me."
She stared at him coldly.
"Please let me go."
He looked down at his hands. He was gripping her shoulders tightly. He forced his hands to relax.
She stepped away so quickly that it was like a punch to the gut. He knew he had lost her. He felt like someone had just stabbed him, right in the chest.
"Please don't do this, Brina. Please.”
She didn't look at him, just continued packing until she zipped up her bag. Then she stood up and looked straight into his eyes.
"We both knew this wasn't going anywhere, Mr. Falcon. I just got a little reminder as to why. Courtesy of your road crew."
"I'll bloody kill them! What did they say?"
"It's not their fault really, is it? They were just stating the facts."
"Please, tell me, Sabrina. Tell me so I can fix it."
“Can you go back in time and not sleep with three thousand women?”
His jaw dropped.
"You can't fix this, Mr. Falcon. It's not your fault. It's mine. You can't change who you are. I'm the foolish one for thinking you had."
"Stop bloody calling me that! I'm Nick, remember?"
He held her by the shoulders again. He could see her eyes were full of unshed tears. And hurt. He'd caused her terrible pain somehow. Slowly he released her, feeling like his insides were twisted in a knot.
She picked up her bag and rolled it toward the front door.
"Where are you going?"
"To get a hotel room. Did you think I was leaving? I can't leave, remember? You made sure of that. And I still have a job to do."
She stared at him proudly, holding back tears.
"Unless you want to call Jerry and release me from this joke. I'd- I'd like to go home."
He stared at her, full of pain and rage. She was taking the only thing that mattered to him away. Herself. He gritted his teeth and shook his head slowly. If he had nothing to live for, why should she get off so easily?
"Hell no."
She stared at him as if he was the lowest form of life known to man.
Maybe he was.
He heard the door close behind her. He stared blindly around the room.
That's when he saw it. His gifts. They were all there. Every bloody one. Even the jewelry, neatly set out in the boxes they’d come in. Of course she’d saved the bloody boxes.
She'd left behind all the things he had bought her.
He strode across the room to the bar.
Chapter 48
Sabrina
Sabrina dabbed makeup under her eyes. She'd been crying and it showed. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her.
It was a week since they'd broken up, if you could call it a break up. One horrible week.
They'd been in Sweden for two days. Nick's concert was later that night. She had to go upstairs to make sure he was prepared. Well, that wasn't true exactly.
He'd sent Marley to demand her presence.
Nick had been doing a lot of that recently. Demanding. At first, he'd called her upstairs and tried to bargain with her, to win her back. She knew he just wanted her back in his bed.
It was all a game to him. One he didn't like loosing. But she wasn't moved.
Then he'd started taking revenge. He was obviously miserable and wanted to maker her feel that way too. He didn’t have to worry on that account. She was absolutely gutted and doing her best to hide it.
Nick was… not a nice person when he was upset. He did everything in his power to rock her boat, deliberately making her life difficult.
He made her ride with him to Berlin but after six uncomfortable hours of silence, he informed her she could ride with the band to Sweden. She'd booked herself a flight and met them there at the Grand Hotel Stockholm instead.
For every move he made, she had a countermove. But the strain was taking a toll on her. She would never admit it but he was wearing her down. It wouldn't be long before she fell back into his arms.
Besides, she missed him.
So much it was eating her up inside.
She knew she looked awful. She knew she’d lost weight. She doubted he even wanted her back after everything that happened.
It was hard to tell, to be honest.
He'd been drunk and belligerent almost constantly since she'd called things off. Somehow he still drew her to him like a moth to a flame. Now she was worried about him as well. And dreaded being forced to watch him take the constant parade of groupies up on their offers of no strings sex. So far he'd turned them all down as far as she could tell, but it was just a matter of time.
He was a rock star after all. What were a few dozen lays on top of thousands of sexual encounters? He’d break and it would be soon.
She pulled on her blazer and prepared to face him again. She wasn't sure how many more times she could do this before she begged him to take her back. She could feel herself wanting to do it. She was close to doing anything, possibly even humiliating herself in front of him.
She took the elevator up to the penthouse and pressed the buzzer. Marley smiled at her sadly as he opened the door. There was something apologetic in his eyes as she walked past him.
In just a second she saw why. Nick was shirtless and working out, doing pushups in the middle of the floor. Empty champagne bottles were everywhere.
So were girls.
Three of them to be exact, none of them wearing much to cover their young, firm bodies. Sabrina did a double take. They were triplets. Three blond, very buxom triplets.
She felt an odd twisting feeling deep inside. She stared down at the floor, grasping her leather folio to her chest. Then she opened it and pulled out the schedule for the next few days.
Inside, she felt like she was dying.
Chapter 49
Nick
Nick watched Sabrina's face carefully. She was standing there, stiffer than a statue. He was hoping for more of a reaction than this. That's why he'd had Marley let the bloody girls in to begin with.
He was going to make her jealous. Show her that he could have any woman he wanted. And he’d chosen her.
It was time for her to toe the bloody line!
She lifted her eyes and crossed the room to him, holding out a piece of paper. He stood up and leisurely wiped himself down with a towel, making her stand there and wait.
His eyes drank in the sight of her. He frowned, realizing how fragile she looked. Thinner. Like she hadn’t been eating. Pale. Like she hadn’t been sleeping much either.
And she was still the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
She'd been avoiding him all week, driving him to take more and more drastic measures in his attempts to win her back. He took a perverse pleasure, prolonging the opportunity to look her over, to refresh his memory of what had slipped through his fingers.
What he had lost.
That's when he saw it. Her hand was shaking. His eyes jumped to hers, boring into them. She was fighting back tears.
He knew it.
She still wanted him. Maybe even loved him a little. Even if she didn't want to admit it.
There was something so heartbreaking about her standing there. She looked like she might shatter into a thousand pieces if he touched her.
Damn it, he might have pushed this too far.
He took the paper from her and glanced at it. Anything to get her hand to stop shaking.
"This looks fine. Thanks."
"Good. Then I'll just-"
He stared at her while she floundered for words. Sabrina was never at a loss for words. She stared at him for another moment. Then she just nodded and turned away.
"Sabrina- wait-"
But she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the triplets. The girls were giggling and preening o
n the couch, their clothes barely covering their ample assets. He hadn't fucked them. Wasn't going to. But there was no way for her to know that. Or any reason for her to come to any conclusion other than the obvious one.
Damn it.
"Sabrina."
She faced him. Her smile was overbright, forced. He could tell she was hurt but she also looked relieved somehow. After all, he'd just proven her right, hadn't he?
"Have a good show tonight, Mr. Falcon."
He was frozen, just watching as she left the room. Marley came back in and gave him a look of supreme disappointment. Nick knew exactly how he felt.
He bloody well hated himself.
He had ten days before the European leg of the tour was over. He had time to win her back. He'd tell her tonight that nothing had happened with the girls. That she was the only one he wanted.
That she was the only one he ever wanted, for the rest of his ife.
"Get rid of them."
Chapter 50
Sabrina
Sabrina walked quickly back to her hotel room. She refused to cry until she was safely inside.
She'd been right about him all along.
She was a fool and a glutton for punishment.
She tried to stop the images racing through her mind. Those girls all over him like a swarm. Nick kissing them, touching them.
Fucking them.
She lost the battle, tears streaming down her face as she ran to her room on a lower floor. She'd specifically asked for a room as far from his as possible. So she didn't have to see girls coming and going. But he'd made sure she knew. He made sure she saw.
It was her punishment for rejecting him.
As soon as she was through the door, she heard her phone was ringing. She must have left it here when she went upstairs.
Nick had her so distracted that she'd lose her head if it wasn't screwed on.
She ran across the room but the ringing stopped by the time she got there. She glanced at the screen. She'd missed three calls.
All from the same number.
Her aunt.
Oh God.
A feeling of dread filled her. She sat on the edge of the bed and called her aunt back.
Chapter 51
Nick
Nick was pacing back and forth. Sabrina had yet to show up to the stadium. He'd already performed his first set and come offstage expecting to see her.
He needed to see her, to talk to her. So he could explain. He was just trying to get her attention. Make her jealous. That was all. He wouldn't give up on her so easily. Didn't she know that?
"You have to go back on now, mate."
"Where the hell is she?"
Marley held out his hands.
"If you finish this thing, I will find out before you're back offstage."
Nick grabbed his friend by the shirt.
"You'll find out now."
"Okay Nick. You got it. Just relax, I am sure she's fine."
Relax? Like hell he would. He couldn't. He had a terrible feeling that something was wrong. Other than everything else that was already wrong.
In a few minutes, Marley was back. His face was white.
"She checked out of the hotel, mate."
Nick stomach turned over.
"I knew it. Those bloody triplets were overkill. Damn it. I have to get her back. Text her.”
"I already tried that. Don't you think I tried that?"
"Fine. If she wants it this way we'll call Jerry. Get him to fire her if she doesn't come back."
Marley was looking at him with an odd look on his face.
"Nick, mate, are you sure you want to do that to the girl? Seems like maybe she's just not cut out for this… lifestyle.”
Nick stared at his own face in the mirror. It was like looking at a stranger. He was broken inside. He didn't care about anything anymore, he just wanted to lash out. To make her feel as awful as he did.
"Do it. I'm not going back onstage until it’s done."
Marley held his hands in the air, giving in.
"Have it your way, Nick. You always do."
Chapter 52
Sabrina
Sabrina sat on the floor in the attic, listening to music like she had in high school. She’d travelled so far to get here. To get home.
Her father had passed away peacefully a few days ago. He'd managed to hold out until she got there. Just long enough to say goodbye.
Now the house was hers. Her aunt had left immediately after the funeral. She said something about having had enough of America. She still had family in the old country. People that Sabrina had never met, and didn’t care about her.
Sabrina was truly alone in the world.
For the first time in her life, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. Not just yet. And for once, that felt okay.
She didn’t even have a job anymore.
She'd been let go from the label. She couldn't fault them for that really. The call had come through when she was waiting for a connecting flight in New York. Then she'd flown to Chicago, before catching a tiny plane to Colorado. It had taken her almost twenty-four hours to reach home.
The whole time she'd been mourning. Mourning her father. Mourning her mother.
And mourning Nick.
It wasn't his fault really. In retrospect, she realized that the crew may have been exaggerating. It was idle talk, gossip. She was the one who hadn't given him a chance to explain.
She knew now that he'd felt for her what she'd felt for him, or at least something close to it. And she'd destroyed it. What did a rock star do when he got his heart broken?
Groupies and booze.
She sighed and picked up another record. The Sex Pistols. It was one that Nick had bought her that day in London. The records and t-shirts were the only things she'd taken.
She hadn't had the heart to leave them behind. She needed something to remember him by. Something to hold on to.
Her ears perked up. There was a rumbling sound outside. That was odd. The house was in the middle of nowhere on the non-touristy side of the ski town.
It was also the off-season, so it was even more deserted than usual.
She felt so alone. She hadn't kept up with any of the few friends she had in high school. No one was coming to visit her.
Sabrina peered out the window.
A motorcycle was parked outside.
She didn’t know anyone who rode a motorcycle. Except… Nick rode a motorcycle.
Sabrina felt something burst open inside her chest. It was hope.
But it couldn't be. He was supposed to be taking the stage in Madrid tonight. In less than two hours, in fact.
She knew the exact time because she'd been following his schedule since she left. Even now. Wondering who he was with. Wondering if he missed her.
She had been really looking forward to Spain too.
Ding-dong.
She raced down the stairs, not bothering to check the mirror. She'd been going through the stuff in the house, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of when she went- where? She wasn't sure but it wouldn't be LA. Her life there held nothing for her anymore.
Maybe she'd stay in Colorado.
Or go join the sharks in New York City. She'd had plenty of offers after business school. Maybe some of them were still standing.
At the moment, she couldn't think about any of that though. All she could think about was opening the door. She told herself not to get her hopes up. That it was impossible.
But it didn’t stop her heart from racing madly as she tore down the stairs.
She skidded to a halt in the front hall and reached for the doorknob.
She opened the door and froze.
Nick Falcon stood there, holding a bouquet of wild flowers.He smiled at her cheekily.
"Hello, love."
Chapter 53
Nick
Nick's heart swelled at the sight of her. She had a little smudge of dirt on her cheek. His precious, uptight, perfectly imperf
ect girl had dirt on her face.
Maybe they'd both changed after all.
He knew he had.
The look on her face was changing from disbelief to- something else- he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But she hadn't slammed the door in his face. That was a start, if nothing else.
"Hi Nick."
He exhaled with relief. He'd been unconsciously holding his breath. She had used his name. That was a good sign.
He said a silent prayer of thanks to the good lord above. And also his mum, who had encouraged him to drop everything and come after her.
Not that he was ever going to do anything else.
"Can I come in please?”
She nodded and stood aside. She was wearing jeans and a ratty old sweater over a rock t-shirt. He recognized it as the one he'd bought for her in Camden market.
So she had kept one of his gift’s after all.
A very good sign indeed.
He held out the flowers after she'd closed the door.
"I was sorry to hear about your father."
She took the flowers and lifted her gorgoues eyes to his.
"Thanks Nick. You didn't have to come just because of that."
"I didn't."
She was staring back at him with a look that mirrored his own. Cautiously optimistic.
“Please, come inside.”
He trailed her through the well-kept home. It was full of dated furniture and hadn't been changed in twenty years. But it was sparklingly clean and inviting all the same.
Cozy.
He liked it he realized. Better than that cold empty house he had overlooking the Pacific.
"I wrote a new song."
"That's good, Nick. You should be writing."
She was putting his flowers into a vase. He noticed how careful she was with them. She acted as if they were roses from the finest florist in London, instead of flowers he'd picked along the roadside while he gathered his nerve.