Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1

by Jennifer Lyon

  “Expecting company?” Liza asked. “I’ll clear out.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “It’s for you. Stay.”

  She walked in to peer at the food he had cooking on the stove. “Fried chicken and real mashed potatoes. How can I say no to that?”

  He smiled, pleasure mixing in with his growing urge to touch her. Unable to totally resist, he settled his hand on her back. “Say yes.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her pretty eyes teasing. “Won’t that make it a date?”

  He pressed in closer. Her scent of peaches and sunshine wafted off her, making him hungry for more than dinner. “I hope so.”

  Tension twanged in her muscles beneath his hand. “Justice, maybe it’s better if we keep things professional between us.”

  “Too late. We both know it.” Reliving that moment in the parking lot, he added, “You wanted me to kiss you today.”

  “So much. Doesn’t make it smart though.”

  Her honesty sucked the air from his lungs. Despite desire lashing him, he focused on her meaning. “Is this about your secret?”

  Worry clouded her gaze. “Yes.”

  “I didn’t look for it online.” Oh he’d wanted to, but he’d found he wanted something else more—her trust. He hoped she’d get comfortable enough to tell him why her mother was in prison, and whatever else she hid. “Let’s eat.”

  She opened her mouth in surprise, obviously expecting him to push her for answers.

  It took all he had to remove his hand from her to grab plates and fill them. “Can you get some drinks from the fridge? I bought some flavored teas in sealed bottles, thought you might like those. Or there’s water or milk.”

  “Tea sounds good.” She took the drinks to the dining room.

  He followed, carrying the loaded plates and a small ceramic pitcher.

  Liza settled in the same seat she’d sat in the night before. “A chicken-shaped gravy boat?”

  Her husky laughter tugged low in his stomach. “It’s my grandma’s. I gave that to her.” The pitcher was brown with yellow tail feathers fashioned into a handle to match the ruff on its head. His grandmother had used it for anything pourable.

  “It’s, um…” she eyed it critically through her glasses, then met his gaze, “…perfect.”

  Damn. Warmth flooded him. “Eat.” They dug in.

  “This is amazing.” She held up a thigh. “The chicken is crispy and tender, so good. Your grandmother’s recipe?”

  “Yep. I spent a lot of my days at the diner while growing up. My mom worked, so I hung out there. Brought my friends over, it was pretty cool.” He took a second, then said, “I spent most of my childhood there or here in this house.”

  “It’s a great house.” She took another bite of chicken. “Are you going to keep it?”

  He wiped his hands, the old anxiety sliding in. “Yes.”

  She lifted her head, her eyes on his. “For the memories?”

  “For my dad. This is his home. If he ever wants to come back…it needs to be here.” Worry and helpless anger rippled beneath his skin.

  She settled a hand on his forearm. “Back from where?”

  Her gentle touch helped. “Former Marine. A hero injured in the line of duty. Now he’s just another homeless vet somewhere out on the streets, and I can’t find him.” Shit, he hated this. “He has a home, damn it. I keep his room at the end of the hall exactly as he left it with a few extra supplies.”

  She stroked his arm. “That’s awful. You must be so worried.”

  The truth tumbled out. “That’s why I had to sleep before you got here yesterday—I’d spent the night out on the streets looking for him.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I swore to my grandmother I’d take care of him. But he just…” It ate at him. He should be out there searching now, except it was futile. Lynx was right, his dad didn’t want to be found.

  “Maybe he doesn’t realize you’re trying to find him.”

  He snorted, bitterness and anger clumping in an all-too-familiar stew. “Bullshit. He knows. It’s his choice. He’d rather live on the streets than with his own son.” Shut up. Jesus. The girl doesn’t want to hear it. Hell, Justice didn’t want to believe it. He shook it off.

  “Are you going out searching tonight? I could help you look. Do you have a picture of him?”

  “You’d do that?” Sure, Drake and Lynx had helped him attempt to track his dad. This was different. No way in hell would he let her go into homeless camps in the middle of the night, but that she’d offered touched him.

  “Yes. Maybe we’d have better luck together, and you won’t be alone.” Sympathy filled her eyes. “No one should be alone like that, or homeless. No one.”

  The fierceness in that statement told him she knew what it was like to be alone. With her mom in prison and her ending up living with her aunt, it made him wonder. “Have you been homeless?”

  She looked away. “No. I was in protective custody for a while but…” She stared down at the remains of her dinner.

  God. What the hell had happened to her? “What, Liza? Just tell me.”

  Her gaze slid to his, pools of worry and uncertainty. “You can’t tell anyone. If people find out, I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  He caught her wrist, tugging her hand to him. Her fingers were cold and stiff. “You can trust me.” Didn’t she see that yet?

  She blinked at him. “I like it now when you don’t know. I want to be this girl, the boring, average, slightly chunky college girl. Not her.”

  Chunky? Oh hell no. Liza wasn’t thin, but she was hot. And when she relaxed enough to take off her sweater, her confidence showed through, adding another layer of sexiness. But that wasn’t the point here. “Not who, Liza?”

  “The girl who ruined a rock star and forced him to flee the country. The girl who half the country thinks is some kind of slut who got what she deserved.”

  Jesus. His whole body iced. Thoughts clashed and bounced in his head. He only knew of one rock star who’d fled the country for a crime besides tax evasion.

  “Gene Hayes?” The full impact slammed into him. Dropping her hand, he jerked back in his chair. “You’re the girl Hayes was accused of…” Oh fuck. Raping. Drugging and raping. The most sensational story of the decade.

  “Yes. My name then was Elizabeth Ranger. I took my mom’s maiden name, Glasner, after the trial.”

  Gene Hayes’s trial had been a huge media event, bigger than O.J. and Michael Jackson. After all, how many times does a father take his underage daughter to a rock star’s house, knowing she’d be drugged and raped? Then the mother showed up and killed the dad, after which the rock star ran and hid? Hayes was found, arrested and tried…then ran again. Her mom, as Justice remembered it, took a plea deal for second-degree murder of Liza’s dad rather than go to trial.

  Liza sat still, naked vulnerability in her eyes magnified by her glasses. He didn’t know what to say to her. It was all so crazy. His shock spread like a blanket of confusion, slowing his thoughts. Was he getting his facts straight? Or somehow mixing up her story with another infamous one? Gene Hayes, and her parents, Amber and Eddie Ranger. He couldn’t quite get his head around Liza being at the center of that nightmare.

  “You mean Gene Hayes? The rock star who had everything. His second album had just dropped and went to number one out of the gate. Then he lost it all… That was you?” Oh hell, that sounded like he was blaming her. “I—”

  Her frozen state shattered as she shot up from her chair. “Yep. He was a rock god and I ruined him. I’ll leave before I ruin you too.”

  Chapter 5

  What had she done? Buzzing cranked up in her head. Pain crushed her chest, like a fist shoved in deep. Liza’s world careened out of control.

  Justice could destroy the life she’d carefully built. Why had she told him? Don’t talk about it, Liza. You’re making it worse. People are judging you. Us. Just keep your head down and stay quiet. She was a fool. Stupid.

  Maybe she sh
ould just go home for the summer. Give up and accept she was ruined. That she deserved to live in silent shame, always atoning for her bad decisions and the pain she’d caused everyone. For forcing her aunt and uncle to upend their lives to finish raising her, the niece they hadn’t wanted but couldn’t turn away and live with the guilt.

  Tears burned her eyes. Her throat constricted. Pain battered her relentlessly, and God, she wanted to make it stop. Just make it all stop.

  Especially the way Justice stared at her, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t name. Disgust? Hate? Revulsion?

  Unable to bear it, she whirled, snatched her purse off the couch and hurried to the door. Blinking furiously, she cleared her vision. Would he tell people? Did he hate her? She reached for the knob, desperate to—

  “Liza, don’t go. Christ, I’m sorry.”

  She froze, his voice piercing the harsh noise in her head. The one that made her frantic to escape her own mind.

  “Please.” He edged into her line of vision, pressing his shoulder against the wall by the door. Concern flickered in his gaze. “I’m sorry. I made it sound like I was defending him.” He smashed his lips together. “Defending a rapist. I’m an asshole.”

  “I shouldn’t have told you.” She shifted her stare to the door. “I’ll go. If you want me to resign as your student publicist, I will.” What choice did she have? “Please don’t tell anyone. Except for Emily and now Dillion, no one here knows. If they find out…” She’d have nothing. As it was, she’d have to spend the summer in Santa Barbara. But she could come back to finish her degree in the fall.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone.” He reached a hand toward her.

  Liza flinched. Memories erupted of microphones shoved in her face, people screaming at her, hands grabbing her arms and clothes. Her heart pounded, and spots danced in front of her eyes.

  She wished she could make it all stop—the shame, the worry that someone would find out, her own anxiety issues, and now this. She’d blurted out the truth of who she was, and it would change how he saw her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” Misery and regret thickened his voice.

  Humiliation pushed in on her. She was acting crazy, hell she was crazy. “I know. It’s a reflex. Sorry.”

  “Damn it, you don’t have a goddamned thing to be sorry for. I’m the one who fucked up here, and now you’re afraid of me.” He clenched his jaw. “Look, I know you want to get away from me, I get it. But you’re too upset to drive. Call your roommate. She’ll come get you, right?”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” She wasn’t. “Not physically. I shouldn’t have told you. But I wanted to kiss you. Before we got to that point, I wanted you to know who I really am and still like me.” Shut up, what was she doing? Could she humiliate herself any more here? How many times had she been told her feelings didn’t matter? It was her actions, always her actions. “It was stupid to tell you.” Time to pull herself together. “I’m okay now. I’ll drive carefully.” She turned the knob.

  His warm, firm hand settled over hers. “Liza, hey, look at me.”

  She lifted her eyes to his.

  “Not stupid. Let go of the door and come here.” He tugged her into his arms.

  Stunned, she leaned against his chest, desperate to soak up his warmth. She relished the feel of his heart beating a steady thump, assuring her that he cared enough to come after her and stop her from leaving. The sensation of being comforted filled her throat. He couldn’t know how much she longed for this. All those years she’d been so damned alone and wishing for this kind of solace.

  “Justice.” Don’t cry. Hold it together.

  He pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “Just take your time and breathe. You’re safe.”

  * * *

  Liza burrowed against his chest, her arms settling around him. Her level of trust ripped out his damned heart. He didn’t deserve it after he’d been a complete asshole.

  He flinched internally, remembering what he’d said to her: Hayes had everything. His second album had just dropped and went to number one out of the gate. Then he lost it all… That was you?

  What the fuck was wrong with him? She’d told him her worst secret, and he’d acted like she was at fault, not the rapist.

  “People believe I seduced him in some kind of blackmail scheme. That I was a groupie whore like my mother.”

  “That’s bullshit. Utter bullshit.” He tugged her head back to look into her eyes. “You were a kid, Liza. And you were drugged. None of it was your fault.”

  The relief in her eyes almost undid him.

  “Will you stay?” He couldn’t stop her from leaving, but he really didn’t want her driving.

  Feeling steadier, she answered, “For a bit.”

  There she was, the girl who fought back her fears. He guided her around the coffee table to the couch. Once she set her purse down and they were seated, he took her hand. “What I said about Hayes, that was just shock. What I meant to say was that he threw away a career because he was a damned pervert. I’m sorry that you were his victim.”

  She turned her face to him. “You know the truth about me now. You hold all the cards. If you want me to resign—”

  “What does that mean, I hold the cards?” He tried to follow her thinking.

  She licked her lips, then said, “You can tell people who I am. The other guys in the band. I’ll do what you want. Please. If you don’t tell anyone, I’ll go away.”

  Her worry ate into him. She truly feared being revealed, slamming home the risk she’d taken to tell him. He had to treat that carefully. “I won’t tell anyone. Especially not Ace. I don’t want you to quit, Liza.”

  She let out a breath. “Okay. Then we’ll work together and keep things strictly professional.”

  He studied her pale, strained face. Her eyes were huge and troubled with worries that no college girl should have to endure. He’d seen her sexy confidence mixed with flashes of stark vulnerability. How had she survived the whole nightmare to become this smart, snarky, brave girl?

  “Is that what you want? Because a minute ago you told me you wanted to kiss me. And, honey, that hasn’t changed for me. I want you.” More than before she’d told him her past. Not because of who she was, but because she’d trusted him with it. And she hadn’t left him when he’d let his mouth get in front of his brain.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d fucked up with his mouth. His vicious words had driven his dad to the streets, choosing that life over his horrible son.

  Liza’s eyes widened. “You do? I mean, I like you, I’m attracted, but for almost seven years, all I’ve tried to do is stay out of the limelight.”

  “And I’m seeking it out.”

  She looked down at their joined hands. “I have so much to lose. My family, my anonymity. All for a fling with a rock star.”

  Fling? Not likely with the hot possession burning his chest. He focused on her family comment. “What’s the deal with your family?”

  Her mouth tensed. “They don’t know I’m doing this contest or the possible internship. I didn’t dare tell them. My aunt and uncle took me in and kept me from going into the system. But they blamed my mom—she hooked up with my dad, dropped out of college, married him, had me, after which he left her. Her life continued to spiral out of control. She followed whichever rock bands caught her attention, drinking, doing drugs, partying and getting arrested. We lived in some bad places. She’d started to clean up and had a steady job, but her family didn’t believe her. My Aunt Mari, the one who took me in?”

  He nodded, trying to follow.

  “She’s my mom’s sister, but Mari wouldn’t speak to her. She’d call me on my birthdays and Christmas, and visit me if I was staying at my grandmother’s. But she never forgave my mom for screwing up so badly and refused to talk to her.”

  “That’s who you lived with?” She sounded like a bitch.

  “Yeah, along with her husband, Spence, and my two cousins. After it all happened a
nd my mom was arrested, I was released from the hospital to a foster home. Mari only agreed to take me if I’d shape up and be good. And I tried, I did.”

  Justice could feel the desperation, the words just spewing from her as she tried to sum up years in a few sentences. “Good how?”

  “No outbursts. No screaming at reporters. Taking responsibility. No more bad decisions and reckless behavior.” Her fists clenched, and she dropped her gaze. “Quiet. I was supposed to be quiet, not talk about certain things.”

  His guts twisted. Liza had been brutalized, and she was supposed to be quiet? He opened his mouth, but she lifted her chin, a spark flickering in her eyes.

  “After I won the scholarship and went away to college, it was such a relief. I could breathe and relax.” She rubbed her chest, as if soothing some pain. “And then I found communications, a way to have a voice.”

  He stared down at this girl, stunned. She’d been abused, then silenced, and yet look at her now. She’d found her own power. “You weren’t allowed to talk about the rape?”

  She flinched at the word, then recovered. “Or my mom in prison. I wasn’t supposed to even talk about my visits with her. I had to hide all my pictures of her or the two of us.” She fisted her hand on her thigh, the knuckles turning white. “Anything from my life before I went to live with my aunt and uncle, it was gone. Like the girl I was then was silenced, forced into a box and shut away.”

  He only had to remember his own anger as a teenager, anger at his dad for being injured, his mom for emotionally leaving long before she had physically, to realize how awful that had to be for Liza. “What did you do? Were you getting therapy?”

  “I had a court-ordered counselor, but I wasn’t looking to make trouble for anyone. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and my aunt and uncle weren’t cruel. They took me in, made sure I had school clothes, celebrated birthdays and Christmas, and when I did well in school, they were proud. But they had this fear too. They didn’t want to see any of my mom in me. They needed me to prove to the world that it was just my mom who’d gone bad. And that they were good people for stepping in to raise me.”