He stopped to drink down the other half of his beer, and then he tossed the can in the trash. He grabbed a second, and I had to wonder how many he’d already had. “Want one?” he asked. I nodded, and he opened one and handed it to me.
I needed some alcohol to filter this story.
“So how did you end up on this tour with Black Shadow?” I couldn’t help my question as it spilled out of my mouth. I wanted to remain neutral, to just listen as he spoke, but I had to know.
He resumed his pacing. “That’s where things get a little complicated.” He ran a hand down his face. He was nervous. “Your dad told me he’d gotten into some trouble with an old friend. He knew I’d worked security for a while, and he told me that if I moved my band out to LA and kept an eye on his daughter, he’d repay me in opportunities for my band.”
My eyes grew wide at his admission.
My heart raced.
Anger boiled over.
Not only had I been betrayed by Parker, but I’d been betrayed by my dad.
The one and only person in the entire world I trusted completely.
“So you knew I’d be here all along.” My voice was flat. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
He nodded slowly.
“So you’re on this tour because you watched out for me? Basically you’re getting paid to fuck me?”
A look of horror like I had slapped him crossed his face. “God, no. Jimi, that happened because I couldn’t stay away from you.”
“Bullshit.” I stood up, enraged by his words. He was a fucking liar. This entire time he’d completely played me. He led me to believe that we’d met by chance when he’d known exactly who I was. I’d truly been his ticket to stardom all along.
“You know I said multiple times that I shouldn’t be with you. But once I met you, I couldn’t stay away.”
“It’ll pass.” I stepped around him and stormed to the bunks, throwing open my curtain and climbing into my bed.
I pulled my curtain closed, praying for privacy. It was futile, though. I couldn’t escape him in this tiny space.
He ripped open my curtain as quickly as I’d closed it.
“It won’t pass. It hasn’t passed since the second I laid eyes on you.”
I turned over to look at him, to spew some more venom at him because in that moment, I fucking hated him. I stared daggers at him.
But then he said the words that changed everything.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, his eyes filling with unshed emotion, his voice laced with an edge of desperation. “I can’t stop what I feel. I can’t control it. I didn’t mean to, but I fucking fell in love with you.”
I wanted to feel the force of his beautiful words, but I was too angry. “You know something, Parker? There’s a fine line between love and hate. And right at this moment, I hate everything about you.”
I held his gaze until he turned away in defeat. I turned back toward the wall.
I don’t know where he went, and frankly, I didn’t care. He couldn’t have gotten far. We were enclosed together in a little under four hundred square feet for the next two hours.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and that was what broke the dam.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, thick and hot and fast.
I’d been betrayed by literally everyone I trusted.
Parker and my dad were in it together. Somehow they’d both managed to break my heart at the same time.
The pain I felt from this betrayal proved to me that I hadn’t really been in love with Damien, at least not in a real, adult way. When he left, he broke me, but his absence had also taught me to live independently. I’d learned how to rely on myself.
I’d taught myself that blocking out emotions was the way to live.
The sharp and splintering pain caused by the betrayal of the only two people in existence I trusted made me value the indifference I’d forced on myself.
I wished I’d never started feeling again.
I wished I’d never heard Flashing Light’s song.
But most of all, I wished I had never met Parker James.
thirty-two
I felt warmth along the length of my back as I sobbed quietly into my pillow. Or, I thought I was sobbing quietly into my pillow.
Apparently I wasn’t.
“Shh, baby. Please don’t cry.” He finger-combed my hair away from my face tenderly for a few beats. I hated how peaceful it felt to have his body against mine, his fingers smoothing back my hair.
He wrapped his arm around my torso. “What can I do?” An edge of anxiety shaded his voice.
I couldn’t pull myself together enough to respond, and having him so close to me was fucking with everything. We were crammed into a bed smaller than a twin mere feet away from the ceiling. I couldn’t move over to get away from him because there was literally nowhere for me to go.
That sunshine smell, those strong arms, that feeling of comfort. All of it added up to this person who had not only used me to get to my dad, but to this person who had lied about it. I was stuck on the lie, especially after he knew how vulnerable I was where my dad was concerned. I didn’t know how to get past that. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get past it.
I let him hold me, let him soothe me and whisper to me. But I didn’t say anything back. A few nice words and admission of love weren’t going to change anything.
I must have eventually cried myself to sleep, because when I opened my eyes, Parker was asleep and the bus wasn’t moving.
I wasn’t sure how to detangle myself from him without waking him, but then I realized that I didn’t care.
I checked my phone. It was a little after five in the morning. I rubbed at my eyes. They felt swollen and puffy from crying, and as I thought about the duplicity of my father and the man lying beside me, I felt a fresh wave of anger hit me.
The tears were gone for now.
The anger I felt overpowered the sadness.
I elbowed Parker in the ribs. His eyes flew open.
“Get out,” I said, my voice hoarse.
His eyes were pained, and it wasn’t from my elbow. “Don’t make me go. Please.” His eyes were pleading with me. I wanted him to stay. I wanted to forgive him. But the cut was too deep, too fresh, too painful.
I shook my head. “You’ve said what you came to say. We’re in New York now. You can go. I’m officially releasing you from your bodyguard duties.”
Parker sat up, hitting his head on the ceiling. “Fuck,” he muttered.
I almost giggled. It was comical seeing him half-asleep and forgetting that he was in an upper bunk on a tour bus. But the anger simmered, dousing any possible humor I found in the situation.
He looked over at me. I saw nothing in his eyes but love. I’d seen it there before, but I’d been too afraid to identify it. And now it sickened me. He’d never want me for anything other than my father. He’d made that pretty fucking clear.
“Just go.”
He sighed deeply, as if a weight pressed down on him, and then he climbed down from my bunk. I closed the curtain and turned over to go back to sleep.
But before I did, I had a text to fire off to my dad.
Truth’s out. You can tell Parker I don’t need a bodyguard anymore. Remember the other night when you told me that I’m the one person in the world you trust? Feeling’s not mutual.
I didn’t want his reply to wake me, so I shut off my phone, closed my eyes, and drifted back into a restless sleep.
It was the rough shaking of my shoulder that woke me up. I flipped over with a glare for Parker, but instead I met my dad’s extremely angry eyes. And it was clear that it was directed at me.
It was like looking into my own eyes. My dad’s eyes were icy blue. They looked even bluer set against his dark hair, the stubble along his chin, his tan skin. Fury stormed his expression. I’d seen that look in my dad’s eyes before, just never directed at me.
“Don’t turn off your fucking phone, Roxanna.”
His voice was fueled with rage. He never called me Roxanna. Ever.
I sat up, careful not to make the same mistake Parker did. I turned my phone back on. “There,” I said, waving my phone toward my dad’s face.
He swatted my hand away. “This isn’t some joke. I get that you’re upset about PJ, but I—”
“PJ?”
“Parker.” He looked at me like I had grown two heads. “Parker James,” he clarified. “PJ.”
“You’re close enough that you gave him a nickname, but you didn’t bother to tell me that you had him watching me?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t risk it. I had no way of knowing how close you two would get.”
I rolled my eyes and climbed down from my bed. I walked past my dad toward the front of the bus. “That’s an understatement.”
“Look, CC, he feels awful. Hear him out, would you?”
I shook my head. “You’re lucky I don’t just abandon you, too. Let you figure out your own damn schedule.”
“Don’t be a brat. And keep your fucking phone on. There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about.”
“That seems to be the theme of the tour thus far,” I said, stretching my torso before collapsing on the couch in the living area.
My dad took a seat across from me in the recliner. He leaned forward, hands clasped together and elbows resting on his knees. He still looked furious, but I also saw the concern in his eyes.
“Care to inform me?” I asked.
“The fewer people who know, the better.”
I rolled my eyes. “Including me, apparently.”
He nodded. “Correct.”
“Fine. Phone’s on. But Parker, PJ, whatever the hell you want to call him, he’s out. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Too bad. I call the shots around here, and I need you safe. That’s why I invited you along.”
“Is Rebecca even really getting married? Or is that a lie, too?”
The slightest look of guilt crossed into his eyes. “She’s getting married. Just not this month.”
“Goddammit, Dad! You didn’t have to lie to me about everything.”
“I didn’t lie. I just left a few things out.”
“Lies of omission are still lies!” I yelled. God, these two were frustrating.
“You know not a damn thing would have changed if I handled this any other way.” He was right. I played with a fraying corner of the pillow my head rested on. “You’ve got my stubborn streak. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
“What the hell do you think is going to happen with all these people around? I’m good. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“I disagree. And I’m not only your father, but I’m your boss for the next four weeks. Parker stays.”
He stood up and walked toward the front of the bus. “And CC?” he said, turning around in my direction again.
I glanced up at him. He had to have seen the defiance in my eyes, the fury in my face. But he said it anyway.
“Give PJ a chance. You’re allowed to be angry at both of us, but he cares about you. A lot. Trust me on this. It’s not about me, and it hasn’t been from the moment he first saw you.”
And just like that, my dad was out the door off to who knew where while I sat alone on a tour bus meant for eight people.
I was exhausted after a shitty night’s sleep, and I had no idea where in the world I actually was. I knew we were in New York City, but I was alone on a tour bus. Everyone had to be somewhere nearby, but I sort of liked the solitude of an empty bus. Knowing my official PA duties didn’t start for a few more hours, I headed toward the bedroom at the back of the bus, stretched out on the queen-size mattress, and drifted back to sleep.
“You really gonna sleep through New York City?” The voice pulled me out of my dead sleep. Constant interruption to my sleep was the one thing I didn’t miss about being on the road.
Vanessa sat down on the bed next to me. “Did you forgive him yet?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?”
“Long story,” I said, rubbing my sleepy eyes awake. “Suffice it to say chances of forgiveness are slim.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“I really, really don’t. But thanks for asking.”
“Hey, we all need girlfriends. Consider me your bestie on the road.”
“Noted, Vanessa. Thanks.”
Parker’s head appeared in the doorway. “Can I talk to her? Alone?”
Vanessa looked over at me. “You okay with that?” she asked.
I shrugged, which caused Parker to chuckle.
Vanessa stood and left, closing the door behind her. Parker gazed at me for a minute, his eyes full of this intense heat. I’d always seen his intensity, and in the moments when I knew he wanted to fuck me, I’d seen the heat. But this was some sensual combination of everything.
“What do you want?” I asked bluntly.
“Just a few minutes of your time. I’ll keep it brief.”
I didn’t bother acknowledging his sentence. He was going to talk, and I was going to sit and listen. Why? Because I didn’t have a goddamn choice. Daddy’s orders.
I snuggled back down under the blankets. Parker sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his gaze on me.
“Gideon said that this doesn’t change things. I’ve been thinking about this all night, and I can’t come up with any conceivable way of making both you and your dad happy.”
“So he wins. As usual.”
“There aren’t any winners in this, Jimi.”
“Don’t call me that.” My voice was sharp. Sharper than I’d intended.
“Here’s the problem. Every time I get close to you, I can’t help but want to feel your body against mine. I can’t help but want to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you. I hate myself for it. I hate myself as much as you hate me. But I was asked to protect you, and I plan to hold up my end of the deal.”
He paused. It was like he was waiting for some reaction from me. I didn’t give him one.
“We can do this one of two ways,” he continued. “We can do this the fun way, or we can do this the hard way.”
“Fun for who?”
“For both of us, Rox. We can see the eastern half of the states together. We can enjoy this tour together. We can sightsee. We can find Mexican restaurants where I can order a cheeseburger. We can get frozen yogurt and judge each other’s toppings. We’ve had fun together from the beginning. Let’s not let that stop now. I get if you don’t want to be with me right now, but you’re stuck with me. Why can’t we try being friends? Why can’t we try being civil?”
“You have got to be kidding.” It was instinctual to say that, even though every little thing he’d just said to me sounded perfect.
Except the “friends” part.
Despite the lies, despite the betrayal, a teeny, tiny thought niggled in my mind.
As much as he had hurt me, I still wanted Parker James.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get out and see New York City.”
There was no show that night, which meant we were in New York City and free to do whatever we wanted.
Rebecca had booked a room for my dad and another for myself at the Four Seasons in New York City. I wanted to go check into my hotel, run a hot bath, and soak for the rest of the night with a good book. But definitely not with the man sitting in front of me.
At least that’s what I told myself.
thirty-three
I lay in my king-size bed in a bathrobe by myself later that night feeling very alone. The television spoke softly to me, but that was my only company.
Parker couldn’t be far. He was still assigned to watch over me, so if I was staying in, he would be, too. For all I knew, he was sitting outside my door.
I thought about checking the peephole, but I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed.
I was lethargic. I glanced over at the clock. It was about dinnertime, but I had
no motivation to put on clothes. Times Square was literally a mile away from my window. I glanced over at the city outside.
I should be out there, fighting my way through the crowds, my hand warm in Parker’s. Instead, I was punishing us both.
I’d been to New York City before, and the energy always invigorated me. But it had little chance of invigorating me if I didn’t leave my hotel room.
We had three more nights in New York after this one. We had concerts scheduled the next two nights at Madison Square Garden, but the last night was another free night. I’d feel better then. I’d go out then.
At least that’s what I told myself. Who knew if I’d feel any better by then?
A soft knock at my door forced me to get up. I looked through the peephole. “What do you want, Parker?” I spoke through the door. I heard a soft thud from the other side.
“I’m going to dinner. Do you want to come with me?”
I tightened the belt on my robe, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the door.
Parker let out a growl. “Christ Jesus, Jimi. Tell me you’re wearing something under that.”
I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“Fuck my life,” he muttered.
I turned around so he wouldn’t see my tiny smile. As much as I didn’t feel like smiling, he still managed to prompt one.
I walked back into the room and curled into the chair that faced the window, drawing my legs up under me.
Parker cleared his throat. “So, uh, dinner?”
“Not hungry,” I lied.
“Then come keep me company. Please?”
His tone made me change my mind. It was some mix of frustration and hurt and pain. It forced me to realize that he actually was suffering through this.
If he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t be here asking me to go with him. He’d gotten what he wanted. He was on tour with Black Shadow. He could’ve just ordered room service and avoided me.
And he was here protecting me or loving me or wanting me, but I was too hurt to let him in.
Vintage Volume One Page 18