The Rockstar and the Pussycat (Dark Fire Book 1)

by Ivy M. Jones

  "Where's Andy?" I was already moving down the hallway, ready to look for her.

  "She took off, Jus. Didn't even grab her clothes or her coat, just snagged your keys and took off in your car."

  I stopped suddenly in the hall. "She didn't take her coat?"

  "Nope." Nicki sipped her coffee, her face scrunched up in confusion.

  She followed me into the living room where we'd been partying the night before. Sure enough, the hoodie and shirt pussycat had been wearing the night before were still there in a pile. There was a little spot of blood on the carpet about a foot away.

  "I hit him. Oh shit, Nicki, I'm so sorry. Nothing excuses that, but I swear, I was tired and high on the whole proposal thing with Andy." I reached down to pick up Andy's stuff. "Is he okay?"

  I didn't see her, but I heard her drop onto one of the couches behind me. "You got his lip ring, that's all. Once it heals, he'll just have to get it pierced again. You barely touched his face, to be honest. He's a better fighter than you... You just managed to surprise him."

  I nodded, willing to concede that. The guy had laid me out in one hit. I could admit to his superior skills. I thought back to the lunch where he'd let me pop him in the eye, which was exactly what had happened. He'd let me.

  "So Andy's home?" I stood, balling her shirt and hoodie under my arm.

  "I guess," Nicki said. "What's that?"

  "What's what?" I turned to look at her.

  "Something fell out of Andy's clothes. I swear, you guys are such slobs. No such thing as folding, right?" I followed the line from where her finger was pointing and saw the folded yellow paper on the floor.

  I almost didn't look, but something in me made me open it.

  I fell against the couch.

  "Shit! Get everyone up, right now Nicki!"

  "What's going on?" Her voice was further away, like she'd stopped on her way out of the living room to ask.

  "Andy's in trouble, Nick. Go, go go!" I dropped the ball of clothes to the floor and began digging through the pockets of her hoodie. There was nothing else.

  A minute later, the guys lined up in the living room in various states of undress. They all looked at me with varying degrees of uneasiness until I handed the note around and each of them read it. The guys looked up one at a time and their faces had changed to worry.

  Despite what had happened, they were all ready to suit up and battle for the woman I loved without question.

  "Did she call the number?" Cy sat next to Nicki on the couch, his hands gripping the leathered arm with his fingers.

  "I don't know."

  "Call her," Zach offered. "Ask her."

  Someone threw the wireless phone on the house line at me and I caught it, quickly dialing Andy's number. From somewhere down the hall, I heard her ringtone, True To Me, faintly ringing.

  We all followed the sound until we got to the hall closet. In her coat pocket, her ringtone continued to play until I finally clicked the house phone off.

  "Check her outgoing calls," Cy suggested. We all huddled around as I did, though not finding the number on her outgoing calls only led to more confusion.

  "There's a phone in the bedroom she changed in," Zach mentioned. "She could have called from there."

  "That doesn't help us," I said, resting my head on the door frame.

  "We need to call the cops, Justin. If you can't get a hold of Andy, this is serious." Zach stuck his hands in his pockets when we all turned to him.

  "But... Dude. If we call the cops, we'll have to show them the note. Then all that shit from your hometown is gonna come back..." Griffin itched at the butterfly closure holding his lip closed.

  "I don't care. Not if Andy might be in trouble," Zach said, shrugging.

  Without thinking, I pulled him into my arms and hugged him until I realized we were bordering on awkward.

  "I love you, dude. Best Man at the wedding, right?"

  "Obviously," he grinned back. "If there's still a wedding after that fiasco last night."

  Griffin pouted. "I thought I was the Best Man?"

  "You willing to go to jail for Andy?" I watched Griffin rub at his lip again, appearing to think it over. "Time's up, dickhead," I growled. "No thought should have been required. Zach's in. You can try for the garter."

  His face flashed surprise, then guilt and he turned his head to where Nicki stood, blushing.

  "We'll deal with all that shit later," I said, pointing at each of them. "In the meantime, Juliana can drive to my apartment and see if Andy's there. It shouldn't take her more than twenty minutes and then we'll know."

  Cy raised his hand to volunteer to make the call and trotted off to get his cell phone.

  "Nicki and Griffin, can you guys head to the city and check out her old apartment? I don't think she'd go there, but she still had a few weeks left on her lease, so she might be hiding out there or something."

  They nodded and took off to dress and get ready to go.

  Zach and I stared at each other. He nodded and left, probably to put on some pants and shirt. I went to do the same.

  Andy wasn't at home.

  We called the cops.

  Zach explained about the note.

  Time marched on as they asked us a million questions. With each minute, I became more and more agitated.

  An APB on Lourdes found the car parked in midtown, accruing tickets at an expired meter. The cops fanned out from there.

  A waitress at Shep's, just down the street from where my car was parked, remembered serving Andy. She even remembered Andy talking to someone in a dark sedan.

  The number on the note came back as a burner phone.

  By eleven, I was a mess. I couldn't hold still, just kept pacing back and forth. Finally, I landed in a plastic chair that existed on the border between uncomfortable and abusive, trying to pass the time in the police station until we learned something. Anything.

  "Mister Moreland?" The voice registered just enough to get through my subconscious and I turned in the direction of the officer speaking. "I just got this put on my desk. Why did your fiancée file a report about her father?"

  Andy

  Chances were, a second-story fall would hurt or kill the baby. I couldn't risk it. Not when Georgie and Ed needed this baby so much. Not when Tyler Junior was all there was left of their son.

  Not when I already loved this baby so much.

  I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just at the edge of the view from the window, I could see the gatehouse. If I could just get down and across the lawn, I could try my old code to open the gate. I would run until I hit the street and flag cars down until someone stopped.

  I would need something to climb, and I just had to hope that Hollywood wasn't in the business of making grossly inaccurate films. My plan was going to take a lot of work and I didn't have much longer before the doctor was due.

  Quickly and quietly, I stripped the top sheet from the bed, using my teeth to cut into the 1600 thread-count. I took the sheet into the bathroom to shred it, hoping the sounds of water running and my fake wailing would cover any sound that leaked out to the guard at the door.

  I had the sheet in semi-equal strips and began to braid them. When I got near the end of each strip, I tied on a new one. My sheet rope wasn't as long as I'd hoped once I was done, but it would have to do. I didn't have the time to start ripping the fitted sheet apart.

  As quietly as I could, I moved the uber-expensive ladies’ dresser my mother had bought me for my sweet sixteen. I screamed, infusing the sound with as much anger as possible, then flipped it over. It landed with a heavy thud. I walked around the room, bashing the mirror with the alarm clock, and slamming the door to the bathroom.

  No one came to check on the noise.

  Perfect.

  I tied the end of my sheet rope to one short, fat leg of the dresser and pushed the whole thing as close to the window as I could. With a gulp, I threw the window open, expecting an alarm to go off immediately.

  Not
hing.

  I gulped in one more breath, then down I went. My heart stopped when the whole rope began dropping with me. The polished wood of the dresser was sliding on the carpet but, if I'd done my calculations right, it would catch on the window frame. Regardless, in the fraction of a second that it slid, I wondered if I had lost my anchor. My brain swirled with the terrorizing thought that the whole mess had given out and I was about to plummet to my death.

  My math had been dead on.

  The rope pulled tight.

  Thank god.

  The dresser stopped sliding and I heard it lodge against the sill. I was still wearing Justin's coat, but the air outside was much colder than the air inside the house and I shivered as I tried to climb down. Turning my face into the collar, I inhaled Justin's scent and felt strength suffuse itself into my limbs.

  It was slow work and my hands and arms were screaming by the time I got to the end of the rope. I was, I estimated, eight feet from the ground. If I could hang from the very bottom of the rope, I would fall less than two feet.

  I didn't take into account my failing muscles, so my feet were around five feet from the ground when my sore hands and aching arms gave out. I fell.

  In a ball on the cold-hardened lawn, I took stock. Legs and ankles, alright. Knees, sore but functional. There was pain somewhere but my adrenaline was too high to figure out where.

  I pushed myself up, my palms on the ground to assist, when the pain came crashing in. Oh god, my arm. I couldn't tell if it was broken or not- no bones sticking out, but the skin around my wrist was a dark pink and seemed to be swelling. And, as if the act of looking at it made it real, the pain was slowly overtaking the adrenaline boost I'd experienced right after the fall.

  No one had noticed the chick falling out of the window it seemed, and I scoped out the gate house one last time before I took off. My arm hurt with each step as it jarred against my body, but still I ran. I was at the gate when the black spire-tipped metal began to open. With a cry, I jumped into the open doorway of the gatehouse, hiding behind the wall.

  The doctor was here. If I didn't make it out the gate, it was over. Ian or some other meathead would find me, drag me back to the house.

  I was so close to getting free. If anyone had been watching the CCTV feed, they would have seen me cross in front of the gatehouse. I had minutes left, at most, and the car rolling through the open gate was taking forever.

  I dropped my head to my bent knees and started to cry. I heard the crunch of gravel as the tires rolled by, just outside of my hidey-hole. I sobbed. The doc was taking his time getting through the gate, and with each second that ticked away, my window for escape closed.

  I don't know why I looked up when I did. Something made me look up at that moment. Perhaps I subconsciously had surrendered and I was about to give myself up to the person who would kill my baby and essentially ruin my life. I don't know.

  But the glint of red that reflected from the open door beside me to hit the window opposite was somehow discordant. Nothing big, just a flash as if reflected from a light. It could have been anything.

  I craned my head around the edge of the doorway and started sobbing in earnest as I stood and gave up my hiding spot. The car was still moving slowly, so it was easy to overtake the driver's side.

  The window rolled down and a sharp voice cut through the cold air. "Are you Andrea James?"

  "Yes," I cried, dropping to my knees in the grass. I was exhausted, freezing and in pain.

  It was over.

  Justin

  Zach drove me in his every-day car, a nondescript Dodge Magnum in gray. Though the police had found it, Lourdes was technically evidence until this whole thing was over. In other words, I had no idea when I was getting her back.

  My chest was tight, my heart beating double-time as we made our way up too many floors, the elevator moving too slowly, stopping on a million floors before we could get out.

  "Mister Moreland?" The officer who met us recognized me, though I wasn't sure if it was because I was in Dark Fire, or because he'd been told to expect me.

  "Yeah. And this is Zach Moore."

  "Follow me, please." Then he was walking and we were following. My legs felt heavier and heavier as we approached the door. The officer gestured that we should go first and I pushed the door open.

  "Oh god! Justin!"

  I flew to Andy's side. The nurse, who had been writing something on an iPad, seemed to understand our need for privacy. I noted idly that Zach hadn't even bothered to come in. He was standing at the door, helpfully holding it open so that the nurse could leave. Then he nodded at Andy and me, turned and left as well.

  I was about to ask how my pussycat was, but she had other, more important things to deal with. Her kiss landed a few millimeters off the mark, but I turned my head and then we were both lost.

  I wanted to pull her into me, until we were one being. We'd never be apart again. I never wanted to let her go. I could no longer trust that the world wouldn't take her from me between one heartbeat and the next.

  "Justin. Oh god, Justin, I'm so sorry." She tore her lips away. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just wanted to help Zach. Ian made me believe he had evidence. That he'd send it to the tabloids." Andy sobbed into my shirt, her hands gripping the cotton so hard she might have ripped it.

  "Baby, it's okay. I swear, everyone is okay. Zach is fine. So is Griffin- though I managed to pull his lip ring out. I just… I died a little when I realized you were gone."

  I ran my hands over her shaking body. Her left arm was casted from the knuckles of her fingers up to her elbow. She had an IV in, though all I could determine was that they were giving her fluids.

  Aunt Georgie was right. I hadn't paid enough attention to basic medical stuff growing up. At the first opportunity, I was going to enroll in first aid classes for when the baby came.

  Her hands, I realized, were all over me, as if she needed to check me for injuries as well.

  "I'm fine, I promise," I cooed.

  "It's not that. I just need to keep touching you. You're real. I'm safe. And you don't seem to hate me."

  I slid onto the edge of the bed so that we were touching as much as possible. "Why would I hate you?"

  "Nicki and Griffin... I know they hate me. I figured you would too, once you realized that I sacrificed them in order to get away."

  "Everyone knows what you did," I started. Andy buried her head in my shoulder and her body shook with her sobs. "But they all understand. No one hates you, Andrea. We're all just insanely glad you're safe."

  Her head popped up and she stared at me. "But... But I-"

  "You pissed some folks off in order to save someone else. I'll have to talk to Griff about his intentions towards my cousin, but that's the only fallout from this. Oh, and Zach's my Best Man, not Griffin."

  "Justin, you can't be angry at him about this. He's still your best friend. It's not-"

  "Zach's my Best Man because he offered to call the cops himself if it meant finding you. Griffin even agreed."

  Her mouth dropped open and I took advantage of that.

  When the nurse came back several minutes later, it was to find me without my shirt on, my hands buried under pussycat's hospital robe.

  I was asked to let Nurse Jody’s patient sleep. Andy was dehydrated and in pain from her broken wrist, and the pain meds were going to make her sleepy, Nurse Jody explained.

  After replacing my shirt, I dropped my weary body into the uncomfortable guest chair next to pussycat's bed.

  "You want to stay?" Nurse Jody said, one brown raised.

  "I go where she goes," I explained, shrugging.

  Andy sighed from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere, rockstar. Go home and plan our wedding, okay?"

  To Nurse Jody's amusement, I waited until pussycat fell asleep, then snuck out quietly. Before I left, I was assured Andy would be released the following day.

  Juliana met me in the lobby. With some freaky psychic ability I hadn't h
eard about, she seemed to know I was leaving at that exact moment.

  "I called ahead. The charge nurse said she was about to kick you out. That was twenty minutes ago." I blinked. "Don't look at me like that. This is my job. I'm damned good at it, despite what some people say."

  "Who said you weren't?" I was tired and the relief pouring through me was making it hard to focus.

  "Not important. It's not true and I know it. But getting back to why I'm here..." She pulled out a manila envelope. "What should I do with this?"

  I opened it, flipping through the pages inside. It was the care package that was supposed to be FedExed to Lawrence James today.

  I handed it back. "Don’t even bother to send it. Just crucify the bastard, Juliana." She looked at me with an unreadable expression. "You said you’re good at your job? Make it happen."

  Without another word, I left.

  As promised, Andy got to come home the next day. I immediately introduced her to Norm, who would be shadowing her whenever she left the apartment.

  I expected an argument. Instead, pussycat threw her arms around my neck, hauled me down for an intense kiss and then sobbed into my shirt as she led me, sort of hobbling-like down the hallway to our room before pulling my clothes off.

  I wasn't sure where Norm went but I didn't really care. Part of his job was discretion.

  "I want you so bad, rockstar." Her mouth covered mine before I could answer.

  Andy used her feet to push my jeans down my legs and then toppled me onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.

  I was so happy, so relieved she was alright and that Tyler junior was alive and well, I wanted to cry. Instead, I kissed every inch of pussycat's body, reveling in the sharp cries of more and the pleas for mercy when I finally settled my mouth between her legs.

  Her back arched, lifting her away from the bed, and then those amazing legs clamped over my ears and I stroked her with my fingers as well.

  My head swam as I was surrounded by her smell, her taste, the feel of her legs pressed against my head. I could hear the muffled sounds of her keening passion as she came, her body tightening around my fingers, coating my tongue with her flavor.