Scorch (Black Inferno Book 4)

by KT Fisher

  “I wouldn’t have been cool, either,” Lola adds.

  “Really?” I ask her.

  “Oh, yeah!” Lola nods. “Deal breaker number one.”

  “You don’t like dating a rock star?” asks Paige.

  “I will never date one, simple as that,” Lola answers.

  “Her dad is Travis Woodhall,” Roxie announces, and we all look to her in awe.

  Lola rolls her eyes. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

  “Why not?” asks Ria. “Your dad was a fucking legend.”

  “Exactly…” Lola sighs, “…he enjoyed the life of drink, drugs, and rock and roll too much. He loved my mother and me in his own way, but he also felt the same for his other women and many other kids. I saw every single tear my mother shed for him, and the hurt he pushed on her even though she tried to hide it. Eventually, my father died, and I swore to never have another rock star in my life.”

  There’s silence in the room and I pat her arm. “The Black Inferno men aren’t that extreme.”

  “It doesn’t matter, I will keep my promise to myself,” Lola declares and I smile at her.

  “I respect that,” I tell her.

  “But don’t worry, I won’t be bitchy to the guys. They’ll be friends, but that’s enough for me.”

  “We’ll have to tell Booker and Tate to keep away from you then.” Laughs Lacey.

  At the mention of Booker, and thinking of him interested in Lola, it hurts me. More than I was expecting.

  “Lola doesn’t drink either,” Roxie tells us. “So, at least, I’m not the only one.”

  We don’t drink alcohol around Roxie too much, but she almost demands us to not change our drinking ways just for her. So it feels good that Lola doesn’t drink also.

  “My dad put me off alcohol and drinks enough to last me a whole lifetime.” Lola shakes her head.

  I’d heard the rumors about the hugely famous Travis Woodhall. He slept with so many women, hosted envious parties, and drank himself through every nightclub and bar going worldwide. I feel bad for Lola having to watch that growing up, and having to watch her mother love a man like that. No wonder she doesn’t want to settle for a man in the same industry.

  For a whole week, I haven’t heard a thing. Seven days without any threat from Troy, and that’s put me in a good mood, but the cloud of doubt still creeps over me. I cannot forget the letters or that weird phone call. I’m trying, though, because I don’t want to be scared of him anymore.

  I’ve used this time to relax with the girls while the band records their new album from the comfort of their home studios. The girls and me have been binging on food, which I’m now feeling guilty for, and watching television shows and movies. Of course, we’ve been outside, but when the guys aren’t around it’s nice to have control of the remote. Lola has even visited a few times, and we all enjoy her company. I still can’t believe that her dad is the Travis Woodhall! But now that I’ve heard the stories from her childhood, he doesn’t seem that much of a legend to me anymore. And the more I feel badly for my new friend, the less respect I have for the man who was supposed to be her father.

  Mason is a huge superstar, the band is doing amazingly, but I know Mason will never let Roxie and their baby boy down. He’s a brilliant father, and I know he’ll give his family the life that they deserve.

  Last night Tate even took the night off from work, and we spent the night as brother and sister, watching horror shows and laughing at the weak bitches who always end up dying. It was nice, and I wish we can do it more often. I miss it. However, my mind was on what’s going to happen today, because Booker asked me to come with him to his doctor’s appointment for his check-up on his gun wound—he hasn’t been able to play the drums since the day Joe shot him. That was one of the scariest times in my life, including the time I spent with Troy.

  Booker says he isn’t worried, and that this is simply the doctor letting him know he can play his drums again, but behind the façade I know he’s scared. I’m not stupid, I know this is something more, and that Booker could possibly walk out not being able to play the drums for even longer. I know how much this is doing his head in, but he won’t let me see that it is. He watches the guys as they record and sample new tracks, but they can’t do anything final until Booker can play again once he gets the approval from the doctor. He has asked me to go with him, and I feel honored.

  “Book has asked you to go with him?” asks Tate when he finds me at the kitchen table the next morning.

  I finish my bowl of cereal before I answer him with a quick, “Yep.”

  “Why?” he asks with a frown as he watches me grab my shoes and bag. I walk past him, and I hear the beep of Booker’s truck waiting outside. “Crystal…”

  I turn to face my brother, he looks slightly angry and I cringe. This is why I didn’t want to originally get close to Booker because my brother won’t like it.

  “What?” I sigh.

  “Is there something I should know?” he asks, and I stare at him. I should tell him, but we have only slept together. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything. Tate doesn’t need to know who I fuck, same as I don’t want to know who he spends his time with.

  “No,” I answer, and I feel shit as soon as I say the word. I feel as if I’m lying to him, and maybe I am.

  The car horn sounds again, and Tate stands still as I flash him a smile and run outside to his truck and quickly jump in.

  “Hey girl,” Booker greets me.

  “Morning,” I answer back, my mood lifting straight away.

  “Is Tate okay?” he asks when I buckle myself into the seat and turn around spotting my big brother standing in his doorway, just staring over at us. Booker waves out the window, but he doesn’t move a single inch.

  “Just drive,” I order him and Booker looks to me.

  “Have you pissed him off?” he asks with a smirk.

  “Nope…” I look out the front window, “…but you might if you sit there like an idiot. Drive!”

  With one last look to Tate, Booker then drives off, and I breathe a relieved breath. “Is there something I should know?”

  I lean my head back on the headrest behind me. “What is it with that question today?”

  “Tate asked you that?” Booker questions. “He asked that about us? That’s why he looks pissed?”

  “Bingo,” I point out, and Booker growls.

  “Shit,” he shouts. “He’s fucking pissed at me!”

  I begin to laugh. “He’s not pissed, just protective.”

  “You think this is funny?” Booker asks.

  “No...” I continue to laugh and don’t understand why. I’m just as concerned as Booker is. “What are we going to do?”

  “That depends…” Booker answers. “Is there anything to tell him?”

  I stay silent, I don’t know what to say. I told Tate that there isn’t, but now that Booker has asked me the question it feels so much more. We’ve had sex, a lot of fucking times, but are we more than just sex?

  “If we want to take this further, we have to tell him,” Booker explains.

  “But what are we Book?” I ask him. “We aren’t together.”

  “No.” He shakes his head as he continues to drive. We stay silent for a few minutes, our thoughts screaming at one another. Eventually, we reach the doctors. When Booker turns off the engine, we sit in the quiet, and he turns to face me. “I want to be something more, you know that. I know you feel the same, so why are we holding back?”

  “I don’t know.” I sigh. It’s a mixture of Tate and Troy. I don’t want to ruin the friendship my brother has with Booker, and what it could do to the band. I hope I’m not putting things off with Booker because of what I went through with Troy.

  Booker’s hand reaches for my face and as soon as his skin comes into contact with mine, my eyes close. I love his hands on me. “I can handle Tate if that’s what’s bothering you?”

  “No.” I shake my head, and when I open my e
yes, Booker is frowning right back at me. “He’ll be pissed at you, Book.”

  “I can handle it,” he insists. “I’m a big boy.”

  That makes me laugh. “That… I know.”

  Suddenly, the conversation seems to have moved onto something else entirely. Booker grunts, his eyes dark and wanting. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

  My cheeks burn. “Come on, you have an appointment.”

  He then moans out, “Damn.”

  Laughing as I slide out of the truck, but I suddenly become acutely aware of people walking around us and cars driving past.

  Troy could be anywhere out here.

  Is he watching me right now?

  A hand comes down on my shoulder and I jump, screaming out loud. I spin to face a shocked Booker as he holds his hands up.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asks.

  “Nothing…” I breathe, trying to calm my heart, “…you just made me jump.”

  Booker looks at me in the way that nobody else ever does. He can see right past my lies. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I look around, pretending there’s nothing wrong.

  “You sure?” he asks me. “You look pale.”

  I roll my eyes. “Book, I’m fine. Now stop stalling and get your ass inside.”

  This makes him stand tall. “I ain’t stalling.”

  “Really?” I cross my arms and tilt my head to the side. “Because you’re still standing here.”

  “I’m waiting for you,” he explains.

  Sighing, I walk around him and lead Booker into the doctors. Little does he realize just how easily I turned that whole conversation to him. I head straight for the reception desk. She’s a pretty little thing and looks perfectly put together. Hair pulled back into a long ponytail and her white uniform seeming a little too tight around the chest area. I bet the men love having her around here.

  “Booker Haden, please,” I speak clearly to her.

  She’s about to reply to me when she must have set eyes on the man entering behind me. Just for the hell of it, I turn my head so I can see her view. Booker walks in, ignoring the looks from the staring eyes. His dirty blond hair hanging jaw length—I love his hair styled like this. It’s a change from the Mohawk he was sporting when I first met him. His multi-colored tattoos standing out against his black clothing. When he looks up to me, his sparkling blue eyes meet my green ones. A feeling of excitement sweeps over me, and I try my best to ignore it but I can’t. There’s no mistake that I want Booker and that I really want us to be together, but I just don’t think I can. Telling everyone how we feel is a scary thing.

  “And you’re Booker Haden?” asks the receptionist behind me, breaking me from Booker’s stare.

  “That I am.” He gifts her with a smile as he reaches my side.

  “The Booker?” she asks.

  “From Black Inferno, yeah. Now can we get in to see the doctor?” I butt in and don’t miss Booker’s amused expression, or the pissed off frown the receptionist throws me.

  She clicks away at her computer, every now and then sending Booker a sweet smile, and it really pisses me off. I don’t want another woman looking at him like that, and I try my best to look at Booker out of the corner of my eye to see his reaction, but I’m unsuccessful.

  What if he was smiling back and leading her on?

  I can’t do anything about it.

  She lets us know we’ll be called when the doctor’s ready, so we take a seat side by side in the waiting room with the other patients casting Booker wary glances. This is a private practice, so there’s bound to be stuck up snobs thinking they’re above us and wondering how the hell we are able to afford it.

  “You think I should throw away her number when we leave?” he asks me, showing me the scrap of paper with the receptionist’s number scribbled in red ink. I didn’t even see her pass it to him. I look up at her and frown when I see her smug stare. Fucking bitch. I snatch the paper from Booker’s hand and watch her as I tear it up and throw it in the small trash bin beside me. Her face turns to shock and Booker laughs quietly beside me.

  The celebration of the news that Booker has had a successful recovery is soon ended by another creepy phone call. His doctor’s appointment was quickly over when he got the nod of approval and was told he could now resume playing the drums. It was great news! We left in fantastic moods and laughed all the way back. Tate soon forgot his suspicions when Booker declared his recovery, and everyone decided they’d throw in a small party.

  The night was lovely, all of us together for Booker. I spotted Roxie speaking with Booker, tears in her eyes before he held onto her. Mason had told me she’s so relieved to hear the news because she blamed herself for Booker getting shot in the first place which, of course, is ridiculous.

  However much I loved last night, I forgot everything about it when my cell rang this next morning. That same song by Snow Patrol playing and it sent my whole body into chills. In short, I’ve had a panic attack, and it has me crying so loudly I didn’t even hear Tate open my door and ask me what’s wrong. It’s only when he sits on my bed and reaches out to me that I jump and look at him in surprise.

  “Tate?” I ask, wiping away my tears.

  “Why are you crying?” He frowns.

  “It’s nothing,” I try to reassure him, jumping to my feet and beginning to get ready.

  “The fuck it is… you’re crying,” he protests.

  “Tate, I’m fine, honestly. I got my period, and I’m feeling a little emotional.” I play the period card because I know it freaks him out—typical guy.

  “As long as that’s all it is?” he asks, watching me.

  “Yeah, I’m going to see Roxie, have some ice cream and chocolate. You know… the usual,” I ramble.

  “Okay, we’re heading to Cole’s studio anyway, because Booker’s dying to start recording now he has the all clear.” He grins.

  “I’m not surprised.” I laugh.

  Tate frowns again, and I know what’s coming. “Crystal, why did you go to the doctors with him yesterday?”

  “He needed a friend, Tate, simple as…” I explain. “He didn’t want one of you guys going, he needed to be reassured, and he’s a good pal.”

  “A good pal?” He laughs and I roll my eyes, gathering my jacket and leaving my room. After that phone call, I need to talk with Roxie.

  “Holy shit, Crystal…” Roxie stares at me with wide eyes, “…you can’t keep this a secret anymore.”

  “But they’ll find out I’ve been lying to everyone.” I panic. “I don’t want anyone knowing about my life with Troy.”

  “Why not? As far as I’m concerned, you’re an amazing woman.” Roxie places a hand on my shoulder while smiling at me. “Crystal, don’t be ashamed of what you’ve been through. You’ve come out of it stronger.”

  “I don’t know.” I bite on my lip.

  “Seriously, nobody would guess you’ve been a victim of domestic abuse. Everyone sees you as strong, including me,” she explains.

  “But you said it right there… I’m a victim,” I point out.

  “No, I said you have been a victim. You’ve come out of it, there’s a huge difference,” Roxie adds. “Look, I’m really concerned about you, Crystal. After what I’ve been through with Joe, I’m scared you’re going through the same thing. I put myself and my friends in danger, I don’t want you to do the same.” Roxie’s eyes glaze over, and I know she’s thinking about Joe, and I feel shit for making her relive her past.

  “You need to report Troy to the police, at least, Crystal…” Roxie adds, “…please.”

  I nod. “You’re right.”

  I literally see Roxie’s shoulders sag a little in relief. I feel sorry for worrying her, she should be enjoying her life right now after everything and having baby Quin.

  “I will tell the girls first,” I add. “They should know.”

  “I think you’re doing the right thing.” Roxie smiles. “They’ll support and help you as much as you
need.”

  “I’ll send a group text,” I tell her as I pull my cell out.

  “You want to do this now?” Roxie seems surprised.

  “No time like the present.” I smile back at her, but on the inside, I’m scared as shit.

  I don’t know why I’m so worried about telling the girls. They all mean so much to me, and maybe that’s one reason. Another factor is that I’ve tried so hard to put Troy behind me, I don’t want to seem the victim again. And as much as they say they won’t see me in that way, I know they will. It’s something you can’t help but do, I did the same to Roxie.

  As soon as I ask them to meet at Roxie’s house, they all reply letting me know when they can make it over. And within an hour, all of them are sitting in the living room, including Lola. She’s becoming quite close with the group, so I thought to include her. I would feel bad if I hadn’t.

  “Okay...” I begin, looking at all my girlfriends and suddenly feeling overcome with emotion, “…I have to tell you something.”

  “Oh my God, are you pregnant?” asks Ria.

  “What?” I ask. “No, why would you think that?”

  “I dunno…” she shrugs, “…I thought that’s what usually comes after the words I have something to tell you.” She uses her fingers to make air quotations.

  “No.” I laugh. “I want to let you all know that I’ve been keeping a secret for many years, not even Tate knows about it.” This shocks them as they all raise their eyebrows. “About three years ago I met Troy, and he was perfect. I didn’t tell Tate because I know how protective he is, and I’m so glad I didn’t. We eventually moved in together, and that’s when I got to know the real Troy. The sick and abusive man that he kept hidden from everyone.”

  “He hit you?” asks Lacey.

  “That and more.” I nod, and their faces look so sad and sympathetic, I almost fall.

  “Oh, Crystal,” sighs Paige with her hand on her heart.

  “I didn’t tell you for sympathy,” I quickly add. “Troy is a monster. He treated me like shit for so long and I finally left him. Tate doesn’t even know how much he saved me when he let me travel with the band.”