Braxton
I folded the worn letter carefully and ran the tip of my finger across where my name had been written in black ink.
That letter had been sitting in my nightstand for the past three years. It’d been opened and closed so many times, there were weak spots in the creases, leaving tiny holes announcing that it wouldn’t stay together much longer.
It was the letter Braxton had sent to me after I was hospitalized from the wreck that scarred my body. The wreck he caused the night he decided to drive high on heroin.
We’d been together for two years before that fateful night, our relationship surviving during his time on the road with his old band, but that night was different.
He’d been home for a few days and he’d picked me up for a night out, but he was acting strange. I questioned him and received a hateful answer. I kept my mouth closed, but after he got on the highway, he began to swerve. I originally thought he was drunk, but with one shift of his arm, I saw it…the marks that gave away the life he’d lived on the road.
When I confronted him, he got angry, screaming at me to leave him alone. He took his hands off of the steering wheel just long enough to lose control of the car, crashing into the concrete barriers that divided the highway.
And that was all I remembered.
I woke in the hospital. My leg was burned from my hip to my knee, my ribs, and my left arm from my shoulder to the back of my hand. Those bothered me the most…still a constant reminder of that night.
I’d seen him only once since he left town to go into a drug rehab program. A year ago, we’d crossed paths not long after he had found a place with his current band, Fatal Cross. I was happy for him, because he was chasing his dreams and thriving as the drummer of the hottest up-and-coming band in the business. Tonight, I would see him for the first time in just over a year.
I pulled my blonde hair over my left shoulder, using it as a curtain to hide the scars on my neck. The blouse I wore was a convertible, one-shoulder black top that was long sleeved on my left side and was missing a sleeve on the other. The black material swooped off of my shoulder and the elastic band kept it nice and tight under my armpit on my unscarred side. My jeans were faded and tight, and on my feet were a pair of heels that would make a movie star jealous.
I slid the silver bangles on my wrists and dabbed just a small amount of perfume on my neck. I winced when my elbow protested, reminding me of the recent surgery to remove the scar tissue and repair some tendons and ligaments that had been bothering me for the past six months.
Tonight, I wasn’t going to think about that any more than I had to, because I was tired of fucking thinking about when I would be able to live my life without pain or the reminders of the night that changed my life. I squared my shoulders and dusted my nose with powder. One last peek in the mirror, and I was ready to go.
My apartment was in downtown Seattle, not far from the venue. I decided to take a cab for the five mile journey instead of taking my car. I wasn’t planning on drinking tonight, but sometimes being a woman alone in a parking lot just wasn’t the smartest idea on a Friday night after a rock concert.
The cab driver took my money as I exited the car, and his appreciative glance at my body didn’t go unnoticed. People were lined up down the sidewalk in front of the building, waiting for the doors to open. I walked down the line, looking for the end to take my place. A few men stared at me as I passed. I didn’t dare look at them, because in all honesty, I was scared shitless.
This wasn’t my usual hangout. Usually, I preferred the library or a bookstore with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The past three years, I didn’t get out much, because I really didn’t have any friends that stuck around after the accident. I didn’t hold a grudge, either. They had their lives, too, and my months of rehabilitation got in the way of going out for dinner and drinks and even concerts.
The line moved slowly as the doors were opened. It took about fifteen minutes before I reached the entrance. The big guy at the door checked my driver’s license and took the small portion of my ticket stub before waving me through.
As I entered the main area of the venue, I noticed that the walls were painted black and there was minimal lighting where the audience would be standing. There were no seats, except up next to two bars at the back of the room.
Men and women walked around, most of them sporting shirts for various bands. Several of them wore shirts showing their love for Fatal Cross, making me smile. I’d been a fan of the band since before Braxton had joined them.
A local band opened the show, spending about thirty minutes on stage before the lights went down. I grabbed myself a drink at the bar and made my way closer to the stage. I stood off to the right, allowing other people to cram close to the stage to see the next band to perform. I was rather shy around strangers and didn’t want to get caught up in anything wild like a mosh pit.
The next band was really good, and I’d heard one of their songs on the radio just a few days before the show. The lead singer was female and she had a set of pipes on her that could shoot that band into stardom before the year was up.
As the night progressed, I started wondering if maybe I should’ve just stayed home. If he saw me, I knew Braxton was going to be pissed off. He didn’t want me anywhere near him, and my stupid attempt of showing up at his concert was probably one of the dumbest ideas I’d ever had, but I had to see him. If he did see me and I was able to have a word with him, there was something that needed to be said to his face. I had to steel my spine and keep to my plan. It was too late to back out now, the lights were going down and Fatal Cross was heading to the stage. I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans and prayed he didn’t see me. Maybe I could watch him play and then sneak out before the show ended.
Boy was I ever wrong…
As soon as the lights went up, I saw him for the first time in what seemed like forever. My heart thundered in my chest when I saw just how huge he had gotten since the last time I’d seen him. He’d gained so much muscle in the last three years, he looked like he weighed twice as much as he did before the accident. His body was covered with tattoos, and little beads of sweat were making an appearance on his forehead as he played the first song.
Not only had he changed, but his eyes were not the vibrant blue that they once were. In them, I saw pain, and that alone ripped my heart to shreds because I knew I was the one that had caused his guilt.
One song bled into the next, and I found myself bobbing my head to each one the lead singer was belting out to his fullest. The band’s guitarist was jumping around on stage, acting his part. The bassist looked like every woman’s fantasy with his long, blond hair. A few women in the crowd screamed when he’d wink at them.
The lights began to pulse and Braxton was pounding out a beat that matched the lights. The crowd screamed and the next song began. A woman stumbled into me, and I smiled as she righted herself with a slurred apology. I watched as she made her way to the restrooms, disappearing in the door marked for women.
As the last song came to a close, I felt a pain in my chest. It would probably be the last time I saw him. I moved to my left so I could have one last clear look at the man who held my heart no matter what he’d done.
White lights blinked once, twice, and on the third time, I saw him.
Braxton Keller’s eyes locked with mine and a split second later, I saw recognition in his hard gaze. He’d seen me, but I was frozen in place as he stood from his drum kit. His shoulders seemed to double in size as he moved forward on the stage. The crowd gasped, parting in a rush when he made a leap from the stage to the venue floor. He didn’t care that there were hundreds of people crammed into the area…he just walked forward like a man on a mission. His eyes hardened, and I took a step back, but didn’t get far because the wall met my back.
I was stuck there like prey in the scope of a rifle…the hunter poised and ready to fire. I was trapped by the man who’d scarred me…the man who’d changed my life forever.
* * *
I was currently sitting with my ass parked in a metal folding chair somewhere behind the stage. Braxton was pacing. I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth. “You pace too much when you’re stressed. Stop it.”
He froze and looked over his shoulder, his eyes going dark. The muscles in his jaw ticced, and I could probably bounce a quarter off the tightness.
“Abby, you’re being a brat,” he warned. His hand twitched and I remembered when he used to paint my ass red for my wayward mouth. I had to stifle a moan.
“I have every right to be,” I said, standing up from my seat. I wanted to be on the same level with him. “Why are you paying my bills? I have insurance.”
“You know why,” he mumbled, turning away from me. I saw the answer in his eyes before he started pacing again.
“Because of your guilt?” I tossed that at him just to see how he’d react. He spun with a hard jerk.
“Yes!” he yelled, stepping up so he was looming over me, but I’d never been afraid of Braxton Keller. He could try to bully me all he wanted, but I was stronger than he thought. I also had a stubborn streak a mile wide. “Because it was my carelessness that caused your scars…caused you to be hurt, Abby.”
“Did you ever think that part of that accident was my fault, too?” I sucked in a breath when his eyes turned almost black. Oh, he was pissed.
“Seriously?” he scoffed.
“If I’d kept my mouth shut, you wouldn’t have lost control of the car, Braxton,” I replied, knowing he wasn’t going to accept my statement.
“I was high, Abby!” He ran his hands through his short, cropped brown hair, the muscles in his arm flexing with the movement. He’d changed a lot in three years. He wasn’t below-average size anymore, and his body was now covered in tattoos. I was sure each and every one of them had a story, and I was afraid to look deeper into each piece, worried I’d find a lot of them were reminders of what had happened.
“I forgave you the moment I woke up in the hospital,” I stated, knowing that probably wasn’t the best thing to say to him.
“Well, I haven’t forgiven myself,” he whispered, wiping a hand down his face.
“We need to talk, Braxton.” I sighed, looking around at the backstage area. “Here isn’t the place.”
“I really don’t want to talk about this,” he snarled. His attitude was just starting to piss me off, but I knew from experience that he was one of the most hardheaded men on the face of the planet. “Let me call you a cab.”
“No, thanks,” I scoffed. “I’m capable of taking care of myself, Braxton. I’ve been doing it for three years.” I knew slinging more guilt wasn’t the greatest idea when dealing with him, but he needed to understand that I wasn’t as fragile as he believed.
“You are not walking home from here,” he stated.
“No, I’m not walking. I can also get my own cab,” I barked as I pushed past him and made my way out of the backstage area. “I thought I could come here and have an adult conversation with you, but it looks like I was wrong.”
“Wait,” he called out, running a tattooed hand through his hair. When I turned around, his jaw was set and I noticed a tic that told me he was angry. I knew that look, but like before, it didn’t faze me.
“So, are we talking or not?”
“Yes, I have been paying your bills,” he began, but paused when some people entered the door from the front of the venue. They ignored us and moved along quickly. “There will be no arguing about this, Abby.”
“Again, I have insurance, Braxton,” I huffed. “I really wish you’d stop.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he barked out a harsh laugh. “Ever.”
“You are so stubborn,” I said, throwing my hand in the air; the good hand that didn’t hurt when I moved it too quickly. Right then, I really wanted to use both of them to strangle him.
“I’ll call you a cab,” he said, making a move to walk away. I reached out and placed my hand on his arm and felt the familiar warmth of his skin. We both froze as I swallowed hard and looked at where my hand was touching him. For a split second, it felt like old times, like home, but with a jerk of his arm, the connection was lost.
“Okay,” I replied, and followed him out to the curb where a cab was already waiting.
Chapter 3
Braxton
The scent of dust and musty furniture burned my nose when I pushed the door to my apartment wide open. Nothing had changed since I’d left a few months ago. The small one-bedroom apartment was all I needed. Hell, it was all I wanted.
I dropped my bag on the couch and made my way into the kitchen. A note sat on my small table, folded into a silly teepee. I avoided it while I checked out what was in my fridge. The cool air caused bumps to raise on my skin when I pulled the door open. The thing was full of food, and I shook my head at my mother’s overly excessive shopping.
I grabbed a glass and poured myself some water from the gallon jug in the door. The chair creaked when I sat down and picked up the piece of paper from the table. It was from my sister.
Braxton,
Food is in the fridge. You need to call me as soon as you get in so we can go to mom’s house for a family dinner.
Don’t stay in this God awful apartment for the next two weeks!
I will come drag you out…this is your only warning.
Love you, Bubba!
Penny
My baby sister, Penelope, was only my baby sister by two and a half minutes, but she always watched over me as if she was the one older. Having a twin was sometimes a blessing…other times it was a pain in my ass.
I ignored the phone when it rang and found my way into my bathroom. It took me twenty minutes to shower and shave, and by the time I left the bedroom, my phone was screaming again.
“What is it, Penny?” I barked into the phone. “I just got home.”
“Braxton Andrew Keller,” she scolded. “Is that anyway to talk to your sister?”
I wiped my hand down my face and took a deep breath, knowing I shouldn’t be an asshole, but I’d just seen the woman that I’d almost killed, and she wanted to remind me of my past by showing up looking like a walking wet dream.
“I’m sorry,” I replied.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. Another thing about having a twin was that we had this crazy connection. Penny was always better at reading my moods than I was at deciphering hers.
“Abby showed up at the show last night,” I admitted, squeezing my eyes closed as I tried to get her face out of my head.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a heavy sigh. “Braxton, you need to talk to her.”
“I have nothing to say to her,” I replied, making a fist on the table top. “I’m sure my almost killing her cured her of any feelings she had for me.”
“What did Abby say last night at the show?” Penny pushed.
I explained everything, down to me rushing from the stage like a raging bull. There was no way that Abby wanted anything to do with me, except to rub in my face that her scars were my fault.
“I still think you two need to sit down and talk everything out, Brax,” Penny urged. “I’m serious. It’s the only way you are going to move past this…this guilt.”
“Penelope,” I warned, using her full name.
“Do it, Braxton,” she ordered. “I mean it…and be at mom’s tomorrow night at six.”
Before I could reply, she hung up the phone, leaving me sitting in my shady ass apartment all alone.
Times like these were when the cravings came rushing back. It’d been just over three years since that fateful night and the last time I ever stuck a needle in my arm, but damn if I still didn’t want the high when my guard was down. I didn’t know if I’d ever completely lose the desire for it, either. The only thing that kept me from going out to find the drugs was remembering her screams. That would cure me of any craving I had for the poison that ruled my life and almost destroyed it.
A thump outside caught my attention. Someone was walking up the stairs toward my apartment. The way the building was set up, the stairs from below only reached toward the apartment above the bottom one and stopped on a landing outside my door and front window.
I saw her silhouette before she knocked.
“How the fuck did she find me?”
It didn’t take long for the answer to hit me like a freight train…Penny.
“Fuck,” I growled, standing up from my seat.
Chapter 4
Abby
I knew coming here would be a bad idea, but I just couldn’t take no for an answer. His sister, Penny, had become my dearest friend over the past three years. She understood her brother better than anyone else, and she knew that his avoiding me was because of what happened to me all those years ago.
Since he was in town, I finally had a chance to convince him that he needed to quit holding all of this guilt over the accident. He wanted to take all of the blame, but even though I was the one with the most traumatic injuries, I still knew what happened to me that night. It would be hard to convince him, but I was determined to at least get us back on speaking terms. The fact that I still loved him, no matter what had happened, would probably go with me to my grave.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, not opening the door all the way. Braxton leaned his arm against the door frame, his tattoos flexing with the tension in his muscles. I didn’t miss the way his eyes heated as his gaze traveled down my body. I knew I affected him, and I hoped he could look past my scars long enough for me to remind him how good things used to be.
“I came to talk to you,” I replied, holding my chin high. I wouldn’t look intimidated on the outside, but on the inside, I was shaking like a lone leaf in a hurricane.
“Go home, Abby,” he ordered, but I wasn’t backing down. “This isn’t a good neighborhood.”
“About that, Braxton,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Why the hell are you living in a rundown apartment?” I knew the answer to that. He was spending thousands and thousands on my medical care and had nothing left for himself. That shit was going to end real fast.
Fatal Seduction (Fatal Cross Live! Book 3) Page 2