by Clare Cole
More Than a Feeling (Curves for the Rock Star 3 - A BBW Rockstar Erotic Romance)
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
MORE THAN A FEELING
Curves for the Rock Star 3
by
Clare Cole
Copyright 2012 Clare Cole
http://www.clarecole.com/
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any situations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One
It's not like I hadn't been warned enough times.
Years as a freelance photographer on a music magazine had brought me into contact with some of the biggest characters – and egos – that humanity had to offer. Some were sexy, some were idiots, all were intriguing. In most cases, there was always a sense of danger about those types of people – and those were just the ones without rampant drug and alcohol problems. But no matter who it was, a knowing glance from a more experienced colleague usually always meant the same thing.
Don't date a rock star.
I was beginning to find out why. This was not, to all intents and purposes, like real life. In a whirlwind six months, I had fallen in love, seen the world multiple times over, been to the Grammys (and got involved in a huge fight at that very show), been photographed on the red carpet and been drugged by a nefarious manager. Now, I sat nervously in Julia and Michael's living room as we awaited the phone call from the men who had kidnapped Rick's son.
Honestly, you couldn't make this shit up if you tried.
"How are you feeling?" Rick sat beside me and gently ran a hand across the small of my back.
"Shellshocked," I replied, keeping my voice close to a whisper. "I can't believe this is happening. Never mind me, how are Michael and Julia?"
Rick sighed. "Strange as it may sound, I think it's probably best to leave them alone for the time being. This is going to be one hell of a day."
"And you? Luke's your son, of course. You must be in pieces right now." I squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay," Rick replied, his voice breaking slightly. I didn't completely believe him. "We'll get him back. This is almost certainly about money and I've got plenty of that."
Martin Farrell, the inspector who had been placed in charge of finding Luke, walked over to us and crouched down. "I don't want to alarm the others, but I think it's important we know what we're dealing with here. It's almost certainly going to affect you in the sense that they are going to demand a ransom."
"I know," Rick sighed. "We were just talking about it."
"Well, we don't know exactly how this is going to pan out yet but I will warn you that it's not our policy to negotiate with kidnappers. We'll talk to them, sure. But if they think they're going to get any money, they're sadly mistaken."
Rick shook his head. "The money isn't a problem."
"You don't know how much it is yet," Martin smiled. "Besides, we have ways and means of handing over fake cash if it comes to that. But it's a big if. The intention should always be to resolve this peacefully and find Luke safe and well."
"And the kidnappers?" I asked.
"Oh, don't worry, Miss. Those sons of bitches won't get away with this. Dealing with something like a kidnapping is never fun. But I don't tolerate involving a child. No way."
Rick took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling. "What else is being done, officer?"
"Well, it's only been just over forty minutes since the first call. We have a trace put on your line courtesy of your cellphone company. In addition to that, we have teams looking at any CCTV footage in and around this property from just before, during and after the abduction. It's almost certain we'll find something, but we just have to wait. Time is of the essence right now. Our people are working as quickly as they can to find any clues as to what happened. The second they know something, we'll know too."
I leaned forward. "You said time was of the essence? Why is that?"
"Well, again, I don't want to alarm anybody. But the reality is we have to find Luke sooner rather than later. The longer this goes on, the more time whoever took him has to get further away. Right now they can't be too far. They're almost certainly travelling by road, which gives us a fairly tight radius to work with. Air traffic control is on high alert, just in case somebody wealthy has a helicopter at their disposal. But I really don't think that's what we're working with. Something tells me this is going to begin and end right here in LA."
We were suddenly startled by the sound of Rick's phone jumping to life. Multiple police officers gathered around and both Julia and Michael came running. I felt sick, literally and figuratively, as Rick slowly picked up the phone.
"Like I said, we have a trace on the line. Put it on speaker so we can all hear. I have to ask everyone to be as quiet as possible, okay?" We all nodded and Martin gestured to Rick to answer the call.
"Hello?"
"I assume this call is being traced, so I will be suitably brief. Your son is alive and well. We have no intention of harming him as long as you comply with our demands."
"I want to speak to him," Rick barked. "Why should I believe anything you say?"
"It appears you really don't have much of a choice, Mr Borrell. As much as I'm sure you're being reassured by the officers there, I am the only key to getting your son back safely. Since I'm a fan of your music, I may cut you some slack."
Rick shook his head in disbelief. "Are you trying to be sarcastic?"
"No, not at all. I really am quite the fan. I find your music strangely relaxing when going to the toilet, for example. I find it helps in those moments."
Martin gestured in a circular motion to Rick, encouraging him to keep the kidnapper talking. "You're fucking hilarious, aren't you?"
"I have to say, Mr Borrell, I do feel you lost it a little bit with that solo album. Too many soppy love songs for my liking. Still, we all need a vanity project now and again, correct?"
"I'll bear your review in mind when I do the next one."
"That's a shame, Mr Borrell. I was hoping you weren't going to make another piece of shit like that. Anyway, we're getting away from the point here. Since you've kept me on the line for far too long – all to no avail, I might add since this call has been rerouted through multiple networks – I should get to the reason why we are talking in the first place, right?"
Rick looked up at us. "Right."
"I'm a man of simple needs, Mr Borrell. The life of your child in exchange for $5 million in cash. How does that sound?"
"Jesus Christ," Rick retorted. "How the hell do you think I'm going to get my hands on that kind of money?"
"I really don't care how you do it, Mr Borrell. The fact of the matter is that you will. You have six hours."
Martin placed his hands on his head in disbelief.
"What if I can't get it that quick?" Rick asked.
"You're missing the point. Like I said, you don't have a choice. Now since I'm
a generally misunderstood kidnapper and have a kind heart beating beneath my exterior of capitalist greed, I will send you a photo of your son after this call is over to prove to you he's still okay. I'll send you further instructions within the next few hours. Do not even contemplate deviating from what I asked for or the next photograph I send will be of Luke's first severed limb. What you would prefer to start with? An arm, perhaps?"
Julia started sobbing uncontrollably. "You fucking bastard," Rick growled. "He's just a kid. I'll give you the fucking money, but he's just a kid."
"Very good, you do understand, after all. And do pass on my condolences to Miss Forster. She must be devastated right now. Await further instructions, Mr Borrell. And just to be clear – do not pull anything stupid. If the money is fake, Luke dies. If the money explodes or gets covered in coloured paint, Luke dies. I am not acting alone, Mr Borrell. Live or die, the choice is yours."
The call ended and the entire room fell silent as if none of us knew exactly what to say.
Chapter Two
The normally beautiful LA weather had conspicuously turned to something I was more used to seeing back in England. Dark clouds gathered over the house, heavy rain suddenly lashing at the windows and strong gusts slamming against the sides of the walls. The rain came down at a forty-five degree angle, like shards of glass intended to pierce our efforts and make the day even more difficult than it had already become. It was important to remember that these inconveniences were nothing in the scheme of things.
Nothing else mattered.
We didn't matter.
Only Luke mattered. The life of a five-year-old boy who knew no better, who was caught up in this insane world of celebrity and money, was our only priority. We had to get him back safely. There was no other option.
The alternative was unthinkable.
"Just get the money, Charlie. I don't give a shit who the hell you have to speak to. Just make it happen, okay?"
Rick was on the phone to his financial team, doing everything he could to make sure the cash the kidnappers had asked for would be released. It was easier said than done – nobody can just turn up at a bank and withdraw $5 million in cash, even if you have it. Hell, most bank branches don't even hold that much money at any one time. But when you have half of the Los Angeles Police Department and the missing child of an international superstar at stake, strings can be pulled more effectively.
"My people tell me the money will be released within the next hour and a half," Rick said, walking towards Martin and myself. They going to have to transport extra cash in by a secured unit, but Chase Bank on Wilshire Boulevard has been made aware of the situation. They're ready to go."
Martin nodded. "Okay, good. Rest assured we'll do everything we can to either prevent the money being taken or to recover it."
Instinctively, I grabbed Rick's hand and squeezed it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment before shooting me a nervous smile.
"None of this would have happened if you hadn't bleated to the press," Michael said, pacing forward from the bedroom where Julia was curled up, sobbing. "You and the crazy fucking world you inhabit." He jabbed his finger in the air in Rick's direction.
"Wait," I interjected. "None of this is anyone's fault…"
"The hell it is! The hell it is! It was you that told the world on Twitter that Luke was his son! We were living a quiet life here, nobody bothering us. And then you come along, the pair of you, and everything is chaos."
Rick moved forward. "Michael, I know you're upset…"
He lunged at Rick only to be stopped by two police officers. They grabbed both his arms and held him back. "Upset? Fuck upset! You son of a bitch, Rick Borrell! You have no idea…"
Michael started to sob as the police officers led him towards the back of the house. Rick bowed his head. "He's devastated. He has every right to be. Everything he says is true. I seem to have a reverse Midas touch. Everything I come into contact with turns to shit."
"Not everything," I smiled, kissing his cheek.
A tall, blonde woman strolled over to us and tapped Martin on the shoulder. "Well, whoever made that phone call was partially telling the truth."
Martin scanned the piece of paper she handed to him. "What do you mean?"
"He said the call couldn't be traced. From the analysis we've done and the information we had back from the cellphone companies, that's not strictly the case."
"You mean we can trace it? We can figure out where that call came from?"
"Sort of. Because Rick kept him on the phone for so long, we were able to trace some of the packets of data that were being sent along the line. He wasn't actually using a cellphone. He was using an Internet telephony service of some kind."
"Like Skype?" Rick asked.
"Very similar," she nodded. "I only wish it were a commercial operation like that. We'd be able to get the user info from them in a heartbeat. This had been set up manually, bounced off various IP addresses around the world and then back to here. There's just one mistake they made – we were able to trace some of the packets that were transmitting during the call. They point to an Internet router somewhere here in LA."
Martin smiled. "Fuck, that's brilliant. The trail of crumbs leads back to where it started."
"Exactly. It's going to take a while longer but we're working on it. One thing this does point to is that it's not the most sophisticated of operations we're talking about. A professional wouldn't have done something stupid as bouncing the signal off a router connected to a local line. It's a schoolboy mistake."
"So, we find the router and we find Luke?" I asked.
"Exactly. We just have to locate where that router is in time. And who knows, we could get there and find it sitting on the floor of an empty warehouse. They might be one step ahead of us and using the router to throw us off. But it's a pretty amateur play. I have a gut feeling this could be the thing that leads us to the boy."
A tearful Julia walked down the hallway, arm in arm with Michael. "Is there any news?" She asked. "Please tell me there’s some good news."
I walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We may have a breakthrough," I smiled.
All of us jumped as Rick's phone began to ring. "Calm down, everyone," he sighed. "It's just Charlie. Hello? That's great," he said, nodding into the phone. "I'll tell the others. Thanks for everything."
"Is that about the money?" I asked.
"Yeah. It's on its way now. Everything is in place. We can get access to it as soon as we know what the instructions are going to be."
Michael walked up to Rick, his head bowed. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I know you're doing everything you can."
"That's okay," he said, putting his arm around Julia's husband. "We're all a little bit on edge right now. Let's just stick together and get through this, okay? Let's get Luke back safely."
A group of police officers swarmed forward, weapons drawn, as a knock came from the front door. Martin turned to Julia. "You expecting anybody?" She shook her head. He walked slowly to the door, gun pointed forward and beckoned us to stay back and to the side. Crouching slightly, he flung the door open.
"Whoa! Holy shit, calm down!"
I couldn't believe my eyes. Jake, the slimy bastard who had drugged me just the day before sat cowering with his hands in the air.
"What the fuck is he doing here?"
I grabbed a furious Rick's arm as he made his way towards the door.
Martin slowly lowered his weapon and turned to Rick. "You know him?"
"Yeah, unfortunately. He isn't welcome here."
Jake slowly rose to his feet. "I… I'm his agent."
"Ex-agent," Rick scowled.
"Look, I know we've had a crazy 24 hours, but I got a text from one of my media contacts that there was a huge commotion outside the house. I just wanted to check everything was okay. I couldn't believe it until I saw all the police cars. Let's just put our differences aside for a minute, okay? I can help. "
"I know LA like the back of my hand," Jake sighed. "Every warehouse, every back alley. All I want to do is help."
We didn't get the opportunity to humour Jake any further. The sound of Rick's ringtone pierced the room, followed by the dreaded "Caller Unknown" message on the screen, and we all fell silent as Rick instinctively picked up the call and placed it on speaker.