Time Out (Foolish Games Series)

by Leah Spiegel

  “No, you don’t get to do this,” he said with edge; growing angrier by the second. “You are in danger here, and I know you have enough common sense in that hard head of yours to know it too. So no, I’m not leaving here without you,” he muttered. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “You have no right to speak to my daughter that way,” my mom said from behind me causing me to briefly close my eyes. I knew that Hawkins was right; I just didn’t know how I was going to explain it to my mom.

  “Can you please just give us a second?” I nodded stiffly at his arm - which was keeping the door open - and he stepped back so I could close the door again.

  “He’s just scared, mom,” I turned to explain to her in a whisper.

  “Please tell me that you’re not really considering this,” she pleaded.

  “I was tortured for hours last night, mom,” I shuddered at the memory. “And it’s not going to take them long before they put two and two together and then come here looking for me. So you’re going to have to trust me this time when I say this is the safest option for both of us.”

  “But I’ll never hear from you again,” the panic in her eyes made me suddenly feel ashamed.

  “It won’t be like that this time, I promise you.”

  “He has said things about you,” she continued to resist. “That you’re riding on his coattails…and…and that you look like a grease monkey,” she grabbled for the exact wording from what I could only assume she had read about in the tabloids.

  “That was weeks ago, mom,” I murmured.

  “Exactly, just weeks ago,” she stressed.

  “And I said some pretty awful things about him too, but we are past that point in our relationship now.”

  “Relationship…? What do you know of a relationship? You’re only eighteen.”

  “Mom, he is not dad, and I am not you,” I said to her gently. “And I know that I’ve hurt you by lying to you and running away, but that’s not going to happen anymore. So you can stop reading those…tabloids,” I was careful not to undermine them before I continued, “Because I’ll be texting and calling you instead…okay? And I know you don’t think very highly of Hawkins, but Nicholas Johnson didn’t just call because he wanted your vote.”

  I saw a flicker of surprise in her eyes before she nodded at the door. “Well—let’s not be impolite to our guest.”

  “Let’s not let it go to his head either,” I quickly added.

  I watched her begin to slowly nod before she caved, “Well—if you think its best, you better go before I have a chance to change my mind.”

  Relief washed over me as I leaned forward to wrap my arms around her and we hugged.

  “Remember, don’t hesitate to call the cops if you sense something’s off,” I told her once we finally broke apart. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about though—”

  “And why’s that?” mom asked.

  “Because it’s me they really want,” I admitted; knowing that I was a liability now.

  “And why would that make me worry any less, Joie?” she sighed at my senselessness.

  “Oh, yeah—sorry,” I rolled my eyes at myself before turning to leave.

  I reopened the door, and watched Hawkins suddenly turn around, but I could tell by his expression that he had overheard the entire conversation, even though the valiant part of him tried to appear oblivious.

  “Bye, mom, I love you,” I called over my shoulder. “And you,” I turned to Hawkins. “Stop looking so damn happy.”

  I didn’t know how long I planned on punishing Hawkins for all the fear and pain I had gone through from being away from him, but unfortunately for him I was taking it one day at a time and today he was in the dog house.

  Flashes of lights went off from across the street, where Hawkins’ team had managed to corral the gang of men, but I barely registered them now that I had him back by my side.

  “A limo?” I turned to ask him questionably once I saw what was parked in front of my house.

  “Yeah, well when Riley told me that you got sick on the airplane ride home, I thought we’d drive the rest of the way back to Cincinnati.”

  “Oh—” I tried my hardest to think of something smart to say in reply, but the gesture secretly meant a lot to me. “I’m just glad that someone was there on the flight,” I added, finally finding the only fault I could as he held open the door to let me in. I saw him shake his head again as I slid over in the back seat.

  Inside the limo were sleek black leather seats that lined either side. A mini bar was positioned behind the wall that separated us from the driver. I noticed a bucket of ice with a bottle of Champagne in it.

  “I would have gone with you,” he sat down next to me and continued to explain, “If you hadn’t insisted on leaving so quickly.”

  “Pfft—and what’s up with the Champagne? You really thought I’d be in the mood for a drink?”

  “No, I thought I would be,” he smirked.

  I could tell that a piece of him was enjoying my little tantrum. Maybe ‘enjoy’ was the not the right word, but I could tell that he had come prepared for a fight.

  It was a six hour drive from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati, but that didn’t stop me from giving it to Hawkins the entire time.

  “And you wouldn’t believe what the paparazzi has been putting us through,” I said as Hawkins tipped the limo driver what had to be over ten one hundred dollar bills.

  “Sorry,” Hawkins apologized to the driver that looked a bit overwhelmed from everything he must have overheard.

  Once I was out of earshot of the driver, I picked up right where we left off by asking, “Why are you apologizing to him?”

  “Joie,” he sighed as we climbed the steps to his tour bus again. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “What—you want to get rid of me again, already?”

  “Enough,” he hissed, like a parental figure that had put up with disobedient child for too long. His blue eyes simmered as they locked with mine. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s been hurting? Really?” he gave me a look, but I suddenly couldn’t find the words.

  “You think that you’re the only one who’s invested in this relationship?” he asked.

  “Clearly you do,” he answered for me. “But I’ve been out of my mind! Worried sick for you because I thought -” he suddenly looked overcome with emotion. “- I thought I was protecting you, not making you more vulnerable. I had just lost a close friend and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you too. You mean everything to me.” His blue eyes pleaded for me to understand.

  I could tell that he had been hurting just as much as I had by the confession. This experience had torn him up too, but I couldn’t see how talking about it was going to make either one of us feel better. I went to pass by him in an attempt to lead him back to his bedroom, but he must have misunderstood my body language, because he intercepted me by outstretching his arm across to the fridge. He lowered his head and said, “No, I need you, Joie.

  “I need to know that your arms,” his fingers grazed down my arm to my hand igniting a trail of goose bumps as he went. “And every part of your body is exactly how I left it,” he leaned in with soft kisses placed here and there from my cheek down to the nape of my neck like he was taking in every inch of me. The touch of his lips made my pulse race; how long had it really been since I had felt him like this?

  I must have passed Hawkins’ examination, because it wasn’t long before the soft gentle kissing turned into my back colliding into the fridge and then staggering back with a thrilling thrash of being lifted onto the top of the table.

  I couldn’t free myself from my hoodie any faster than I did; stopping Hawkins long enough to take in the sight of me dressed in only my hot pink Victoria’s Secret bra and panties.

  “Is it exactly how you left it?” I asked coyly as I propped myself up by my elbow.

  He wrapped his hands around the soft spot underneath my knees and pulled me closer to him; knoc
king me back against the table with an exhilarated laugh.

  With my legs wrapped around his hips he lifted me off the table, causing me to let out a gasp as we pressed against each other. Being intimate with Hawkins meant a lot more to me than taking off my clothes. I finally felt safe again. I finally felt okay to let a tear escape. No one could hurt me now; I was in his arms.

  “Joie, what’s wrong?” Hawkins looked up at me as I sniffed.

  I smiled down at him as I went to wipe the tear away, and confessed, “Absolutely nothing.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I texted Riley and Lizzie, letting them know that I was back, and that we should meet up around the picnic tables outside the pavilion seating area where Hawkins and the band were getting ready for sound check. Since I had arrived first, I ordered a cheesy fry from one of the nearby vendors and was just about to sit down when I saw Riley through the corner of my eye coming down the stage’s side stairwell. He must have been up there going over the lights with Harlow.

  At first, when I saw him in his neon yellow t-shirt, I thought that he’d finally got his official crew shirt. Though I knew the color was usually reserved for the venue crew and I couldn’t remember anyone from the band’s crew wearing them because their neck passes clearly stated who they were. So when I did a double take and read the words ‘Team Joie’ in black bold print across his chest I laughed as I rush into his arms.

  “How long have you been wearing that?”

  “After I got back,” he explained. “It was really Lizzie’s idea. I can’t take all of the credit. You know how she is when she’s on a mission,” he grinned.

  “Ah yes, and what does Gwyneth think of them?”

  “Oh—it’s definitely sent a message,” he assured me. “Harlow even wore a matching one the other day.”

  “He what?!” I bugged my eyes out in surprise; trying to picture it. I couldn’t believe that anyone on the staff was routing for me, especially Rob Harlow.

  “Yeah well—he gets the real story from me.”

  Riley grinned, causing me to run into his arms again and squeal, “I’m so glad to be back!”

  “Now I know why Hawkins finally shaved off that beard,” he smirked down at me as we broke apart from the hug. “I thought we were going to have to institutionalize him there for a second.”

  “Yeah well—we made up,” I felt my cheeks grow a light shade of pink as Riley softly chuckled.

  “Come to an understanding, did you?”

  “Stop it,” I playfully slapped his chest and he composed himself again. “Anyway, he thinks it’s safer for me to be with him instead of without him.”

  “So he’s finally changed his mind,” Lizzie joined the conversation as she came out the backstage door behind us. I noticed she was wearing the same matching ‘Team Joie’ t-shirt as Riley’s, but hers was tied in a knot below her chest to show off more skin. The gesture meant a lot to me, especially when I wasn’t even sure if Lizzie owned another t-shirt. “It’ll make my job of keeping you glamorous a heck of a lot easier,” she continued. “Thankfully we can blame the whole ‘wardrobe disaster’ on being depressed and away from Hawkins.”

  “Yes, that was first and foremost on my mind,” I rolled my eyes. “Thank god Lizzie will be dressing me again.”

  “I know I’ve been thanking God,” she emphasized as I ushered them over the picnic table where my cheesy fries were going cold, though that didn’t stop me from eating them.

  “So what’s new around here?” I asked them.

  “Harlow’s not a fan of the new security measures now in place because of Vance.”

  “What new security measures?” I asked.

  “After what happened to Ted,” Riley explained. “He brought in his own security staff. These officials protect every aspect of the band’s affairs from the venues to their hotels. It’s beginning to piss Harlow off, especially when they weren’t going to let me be up there with him since I’m not an ‘official’ member of the crew yet. Well, I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet, and Harlow went ballistic on him,” Riley cracked a smile. “You know he doesn’t have a problem telling people how it is.”

  I remembered the head of the lighting crew getting into an argument with Hawkins when we first arrived and how he didn’t want us, or rather Riley, back there with his team at the time because Lizzie had insulted him by calling him out for being gay.

  “You don’t mess with Harlow,” I nodded in agreement.

  “And what’s new with you, Lizzie?” I asked in between taking bites of my cheesy fries.

  “You know you’re competition’s one hundred and ten pounds, right?” she looked from me to the fries.

  “Do you ever take a break from your ‘job’?” I snorted.

  “No, and neither should you,” she emphasized before continuing, “Ryan and I are finally over. He’s changed since high school. It seems like he never has the time for me the way Warren does.”

  “Thank god,” I sighed in relief. “Riley and I’ve been planning this for weeks now.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Lizzie suddenly blushed herself. “What’s new with you? Any more photo op disasters I need to know about?”

  “About that, brace yourself,” I smiled. “Hawkins picked me up in an oversized hoodie.”

  “Icck! You know, any other stylists would have dropped you by now for not listening. It happened before to Brittany Spears when she had that mental break down,” she scoffed like the girl could help herself.

  “Yes, because that’s what really matters since we’ve last seen her,” Riley raised an eyebrow doubtfully in Lizzie’s direction. “How are you holding up since…that night?” he seemed tentative about how to broach the subject.

  “Well—I got tossed into the trunk of my car,” I started at the beginning. “I woke up in only my underwear in this abandoned warehouse, and there were these three men who interrogated me for what felt like hours. They kept asking me where this microchip was, but I had no idea what they were talking about.

  “They went out to have a chat halfway through when one of them realized I didn’t know anything. I was pretty sure they were going to kill me because I was worthless to them then. That’s when the guy guarding the door came up to me and began to talk about ‘the infamous Joie Hall’ and how ‘Hawkins would be so upset to see me like this,’ and then he licked my face.”

  “Eww,” they both groaned in disgust.

  “I basically started to defend myself,” I continued until the end. “And escaped…you know, just another day on the tour.”

  “Who’s this ‘she’ they were talking about?” Lizzie asked.

  “If I knew, I would have confronted her by now.”

  “Well honestly, Joie, how many girls do you know besides me on the tour?”

  “There’s those two girls on the crew,” I wracked my mind as Riley and Lizzie turned to look at each other.

  “Who else do you know who would sabotage you’re safety, just to save herself?” Riley asked next; prompting me to catch on.

  “When you say it like that,” I baulked. “You guys, you don’t think…it was Gwyneth do you?” I thought that they must have been kidding.

  “That biatch has had it out for you since the first day she arrived. So yeah, that’s what we think,” Lizzie smiled with fake sincerity.

  “How’s she connected to the microchip? What would she really know that we don’t?” I asked in astonishment.

  “Lots of stuff, she’s a doctor,” Lizzie added, which made me snicker. “A doctor who works across seas - in a country where dealing with terrorists is a common practice,” Lizzie clarified. “Gwyneth knows something, and it’s your job to figure out what it is, or else knowing her, she’ll end up getting you killed.”

  “I agree,” Riley added. “If she’s capable of hitting you over something as small as a locket, who knows what else she would do?”

  “She told me it was a piece of jewelry given to her by her mother.”

  “Yeah, her lock
et,” Riley explained. “I overheard her talking to Warren about finally finding it.”

  “She freaked out over a…locket?” I drifted off when I remembered the terrorist saying, “It’s a very small chip that can be easily concealed in another object.”

  “If you two are right about Gwyneth,” I realized with a renewed sense of purpose. “She’s had the microchip on her this entire time, and I think I know where she’s keeping it,” I said before quickly getting up to leave.

  “Wait, Joie, don’t confront her by yourself,” Riley warned. “At least have Hawkins there with you.”

  “You think she’d hurt me?”

  “That’s exactly what I think she’d do,” Riley locked eyes with mine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Once I had explained that it might not be in my best interest to confront Gwyneth alone with the few ‘unanswered questions’ I had, Hawkins agreed to come along with me back to his tour bus where he texted Gwyneth to meet up with him for a talk. If the microchip was in the locket it would explain why Gwyneth desperately searched my belongings for it and how we ended up in the fight in the first place.

  Before Gwyneth arrived, Hawkins pulled me in for a kiss and asked if I was sure I wanted to do this?

  I nodded, “We need to clear the air.”

  Minutes later, Gwyneth sat down across from us on the other leather couch in front of the bus. I had no idea how I was going to apologize to either one of them if I was wrong, so I tried to approach the matter as subtly as possible.

  “I thought that you lost that locket,” I looked down at the piece of golden jewelry around her neck.

  “It must have fallen off in my sleep,” she looked a tad bit guilty as she fiddled with it nervously. “I found it in my sheets.”

  “You were pretty upset the day you lost it,” I reminded her. “What made you think that I had it?”

  “Is this really why you brought me here?” she turned to Hawkins. “To talk about the day she hit me when I went looking through her things?”