Unstoppable (Fierce)

by Voight, Ginger

  Griffin was known to the world as an accomplished guitarist as well as a philanthropist and an activist, and likewise had the reputation of being one of the nicest guys in show business. He was a perfectionist who drove everyone as hard as he drove himself, but in the end no one had anything really negative to say about the man – even the litany of women who littered his past.

  He was one horny humanitarian. He had been linked with every starlet from his home country of Australia to the streets of Hollywood and the Great White Way. Every event that he went to, every red carpet he graced, he was linked arm in arm with someone whose name invariably ended up on a Hot 100 list somewhere.

  They were almost always as famous as he was. On rare occasions he would date an unknown who happened to win the Griffin Slade lottery for the night, but otherwise his world had been filled with those who understood the complexities of the celebrity life.

  He hand-picked women who were equally invested in the fame game. Nobody more famous than he was, mind you… just those who were famous enough.

  But all of them, every single one, had the model good looks to be on his arm. Whereas Andy Foster Carnevale or I had bucked the system and snagged our rock stars by fitting outside the norm, only the finest, grade-A celebutantes were good enough for Griffin.

  One such starlet sat in the control room, one slender leg tucked under the other as she spun in one of the chairs, watching Griffin through the glass as he played his guitar for the opening solo.

  She sipped on a tall iced coffee with a ton of whip cream on top. Where she’d put all those calories was a mystery.

  I gained weight just looking at the damn thing.

  I watched Griffin as his nimble fingers caressed the strings. His dark hair was spiked and tinged blond at the tips, which made him appear even younger than his 35 years. He was lost in his own world, much like Yael or Randy would be when they played. He felt each note in his soul as he made love to the music. It was so intimate I almost had to look away, and did so the very second his brown eyes opened to find me staring at him.

  He indicated I should join him in the studio, and I was quick to comply.

  One simply didn’t keep Griffin Slade waiting.

  He had a smile for me as I closed the soundproof door. “How’s it going, Jordi?”

  Even his speaking voice was melodic, and that Australian accent made it even more so. His eyes were also quite piercing as they looked into mine. It was so direct I looked away. I was still too raw from my afternoon with Dr. Challis, and some folks just made one feel naked.

  Sadly, Griffin Slade was one of those people.

  “Fine,” I said automatically. “Ready to do this thing?”

  He flashed a flawless smile my direction. “Just waiting on you, love.”

  The kinder he was, the more nervous I got, though I couldn’t quite figure out why. He was exotic and important, but he was still just a man. I was almost as famous as he was, certainly as infamous, so why did I feel like some nervous little backup singer all of a sudden?

  I had sung with Vanni Carnevale, who was ten times more famous than Griffin, and a hundred times more potent. He was just some bloke in faded jeans and an old concert T-shirt who happened to play the guitar well.

  Somehow or another, I had left my own sense of value at the door.

  No more therapy on work days, I promised myself.

  “Tell me about Shane,” I heard Dr. Challis repeat in my ear.

  They set up the background music as I put on my head phones to drown out the nagging, upsetting voices in my head. Instead I glanced down at the sheet music. It was a song that Jace and Vanni had helped me write, called “I’m Not Sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry that I want you, I know down deep you want me too. Let the world spin off its axis, I don’t care. Open your heart and you’ll find me there. I’m not sorry for all these things that I do, I know I was made to do them for you.”

  When I wrote the song, it was my own little “fuck you” to anyone left who had boo to say about my being with Jace. I wasn’t sorry I was with him, and anyone expecting an apology was in for a long wait.

  But Vanni and Jace wanted me to stretch outside my comfort level and make it more suggestive than I had ever intended. Now it was a sex anthem of how to seduce the person of your dreams, and the minute I opened my mouth I felt like a complete fraud as I sang it in front of a group full of beautiful strangers who were way more fuckable than I could ever hope to be.

  It was especially uncomfortable after all those long-buried feelings of Shane were nearly pulled to the surface. The images I saw in my mind’s eye were not one of a loving, consensual relationship I was fortunate enough to share with Jace. Instead I was embarrassed and even shamed by the brazen words, and more than once lost my place in the song.

  Griffin stopped me after the third slip. “What’s up?” he asked as he grabbed the cigarette he had tucked behind one ear. He had a sleeve full of tattoos, along with letters on every finger. LIVE TRUE, they read.

  It made me feel like an even bigger fraud. I just shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just not feeling well today, I guess.”

  He nodded but I knew he didn’t buy it, which made it even more uncomfortable. He went for a smoke break as I tried to pull my shit together, but the damage was seemingly done. With all the feelings stirred up in therapy, I was a basket case. Worse, I couldn’t change the song mid-stream like I had grown used to doing. I had to muscle through it, no matter what.

  After his ten minute hiatus, Griffin was back in the booth. He studied me openly as I struggled through the lyrics. I felt naked as I stood before him, even more so than I felt that afternoon at Dr. Challis’s.

  And Jace wanted me to tour? How the hell was I going to sing this song live?

  Fortunately for me, Jace popped in to see how I was doing that afternoon. He conferred with some of the techs before he finally entered the studio. The minute I got lost in those amazing green eyes, I was on another planet. It was just the shot of confidence I needed. Not only did I deliver the song, I was able to do so with a sultry, softer, womanly voice. It was no longer an inappropriate, unsettling song for a stranger. It was the seduction for my lover, the only person on the planet who knew me on every intimate level there was.

  Jace Riga was the security blanket I wrapped around my soul.

  It was such a flawless take that we were able to leave shortly after. It was almost a relief to watch Griffin put his arm around his lovely companion and lead her from the studio. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was off-kilter the entire time we worked together. He was perfectly polite and helpful, but I got the distinct impression that he was counting the minutes he could be done with me and out the door with his morsel of the day.

  I guess I couldn’t blame him. He had other priorities, evident by the look in his eyes when she snuggled under his arm as they headed for the door.

  It made the sexy song I had tried to sing even more ridiculous. Had it not been for Jace arriving when he did, we might have been there all night. I walked right into Jace’s arms with a grateful smile. “You saved the whole day today, you know that?”

  He grinned as he bent for a kiss. “Then I guess we’re even. Because you save every day for me,” he whispered against my lips. “Let’s go home.”

  Home. That had become such a wonderful word the minute I moved into Jace’s new house in Hollywood. Thanks to the sell-out tour, the subsequent DVD and LP release, his endorsements (minus T&L) and some hot selling single tracks, Jace was able to afford the three bedroom, multi-level home tucked high in the hills he’d grown to love since we spent time in the Fierce mansion the year before.

  The narrow roads wound around the darkening hills that led us to our expensive love shack, which had wraparound balconies for the upper two levels of the house. The second floor had a dramatic living room with a dark purple accent wall opposite two huge windows overlooking the city. The balcony stretched from one in to the other, with glass panels so yo
u didn’t miss one square inch of the view.

  Upstairs were the bedrooms, including the master I shared with Jace. The whole room was decorated in stark black and white, with an ornate headboard on the bed to match. It, too, had a private terrace along with a monstrous bathroom and decadent spa tub built for sharing.

  The whole place made me feel like a rock star from the moment he first carried me over the threshold, ten days after we got back from our tour. We landed with a thud in the foyer, and christened the spot where we landed almost immediately.

  We’d even hosted a dinner party to celebrate our homecoming and our Fierce successes, inviting most of the people who made our journey possible. There was Vanni, Andy and Renata, Graham and Maggie, my gubby Corey McGrath, producer Shannon and her husband Jake, along with some of our more local contestants like Lavender Snow and Pepper. Imogene and Alan, along with his long-time lover, Geoff, joined Jorge and his exotic love Dominique, rounding out our Fierce family reunion. With the second season in high gear, it was really our only opportunity to hang with this family we’d grown to love, while they were still completely ours to claim.

  I kind of felt lonely without them all, especially Vanni. He’d been my older brother on the tour, with sage advice and a comforting hug whenever I needed them.

  Now he was off to find another me, and another Jace.

  It kind of made me sad, and I would have missed him if I had the time to think about it. Thankfully, I didn’t. Just finishing up my album was time-consuming enough, not to mention all the other crap I had piled onto my plate.

  In our world one was only as valuable as the last hit, so there was never any real time to rest on one’s laurels. We were all just Sisyphus, rolling that boulder up the same old hill.

  I flipped on the bright lights for our spacious kitchen. It was late, but we needed to eat. Normally I would have stopped at a fast food restaurant on the way home, but Maggie’s current challenge was to make everything from scratch. This meant eating more “real” foods than the processed junk that was easy to prepare but loaded with all sorts of preservatives that impeded my progress.

  She tried to make me see this was a matter of perspective, that it was just as easy to make honest, real food as it was to toss something in a microwave for five minutes.

  I grilled some salmon and steamed some veggies in the same amount of time it would have taken me to bake a frozen pizza. We ate at the table, another Maggie directive (tables are for food, don’t associate everyday tasks with eating) and then retired to the living room to watch some TV.

  I lay against Jace’s chest as we reclined on the white sofa. He toyed with my hair as we watched something that passed for entertainment. It was really just a placeholder until Fierce premiered on Memorial Day, when we could join the fun on the other end of the spectrum – as fans this time around, rather than contestants.

  “How’d it go with Dr. Challis?” he asked softly.

  I stiffened against him. It had taken all night but I finally got rid of those residual icky feelings the mere mention of Shane’s name created in me. “Fine,” I lied, mostly because I wanted to get off of the topic as soon as possible.

  “I thought maybe that was what was bothering you at the studio,” he said.

  I shrugged. “I don’t think Griffin likes me.”

  Jace laughed. “Griffin likes everyone. Why wouldn’t he like you?”

  “Just a feeling I get,” I said. “Like he’s putting up with me. I know he was kind of press-ganged into working with me, since we’re both on Graham’s label. But I’m not the kind of female celebrity he tends to court, for business or pleasure. He parades all these perfect little bodies around on his arm week after week, year after year, and here I am singing this perfectly ridiculous song on top of it all. It’s a joke.”

  “Hey,” he said as he tugged my hair. “I happen to like that song. I hear that the guy who wrote it is a genius.”

  I laughed. “And humble, too.”

  He tipped my head back. “Sing it to me,” he said softly.

  I fell headlong into those green eyes. It was home, no matter where we lived. It was safe, no matter how many bogeymen rattled their chains outside my doorway. I inched around so that I could lie against his lithe body. “I see it in your eyes, a hunger you disguise, a need inside, it burns like fire and I just want to fan the flames,” I sang softly as I crept up his body like a tigress, straddling him where he sat. “Your love is like my drug, we fit like a glove, and I won’t stop till you scream my name.”

  “I’m not sorry that I want you,” he joined in as his hands disappeared up my shirt. I shuddered as he tossed it into a corner, and captured my swaying breast in either hand. “I know down deep you want me too. Let the world spin off its axis, I don’t care. Open your heart and you’ll find me there.”

  I slipped my hand between our bodies, touching him where he reached for me, feeling how hard he was for me and knowing that it was worth every single moment I endured to get here. “I’m not sorry for all these things that I do, I know I was made to do them for you.” I eased down his zipper as I kissed my way down his body.

  As I loved him, gently, thoroughly and as raw as anyone could, I hoped to exorcise those demons in my memory once and for all.

  In that way Shane would never win. I could never let him win.

  But even that night, as we lay in bed together, snuggled tight and safe and warm, all I could think about were the ghosts that lingered in the edges of the darkness. Dr. Challis had opened a door I was determined to keep shut. It couldn’t close fast enough, in my opinion, especially since I had an appointment the following morning to meet with Eddie Nix and discuss the details of our pending divorce.

  I knew from experience that he would give me my freedom, but it would come at a cost… whether physical, mental or financial.

  I had no way of knowing just how much until I sat across from him and his lawyer that perfect May morning. He wanted half of everything I had made while we were legally married, and felt ongoing monthly support was appropriate given my status as the higher earning spouse.

  “I’m going back to school,” he told the lawyers. “I suspended my education to be here for Jordi while she pursued her career,” he repeated the same old line, which made him sound more saintly than the gold digging leech that he was. “Since our marriage has ended, I decided to resume my studies. I’ve been accepted at Tennessee State University.”

  My eyes met his. What sick game was he playing now? His look defied me to challenge him on the matter, so I let it drop for the moment. His blackmail was not a part of our legal negotiations, nor was the blackmail I now had against him that detailed his whole dirty plan right from the onset.

  We had seemingly made the silent pact to live and let live. I should have known better… like Eddie could have ever walked away from the chance to win. If anything, he’d just change the game and tip all the odds in his favor.

  I pounced on him in the parking garage. “What are you up to?” I demanded as he stepped through the elevator on his way to the car I had purchased for him.

  He grinned. His plan to get me alone had proven successful, and he didn’t even hide gloating about it. “You’re so quick to divorce me, what do you care? Don’t tell me you miss me already.”

  “I don’t care about you,” I told him coolly as I crossed both arms in front of my chest. “I care about the people you plan to railroad next.”

  “Oh, you mean the people you already railroaded?” he asked as he tried to touch the bridge of my nose with his finger. I slapped him away and he laughed right in my face. “You’re such a hypocrite, Jordi. Emphasis on hippo,” he added as his eyes scanned over my ample frame. “You gave up the right to know who I was screwing when you left me for that cripple. Now, it’s every girl for herself.”

  He turned away but I grabbed his arm. “Don’t go after Shelby,” I told him.

  He glared down at my hand on his arm, before giving me an icy look of contempt. �
�Don’t act like you care,” he challenged. “If you gave a damn about Shelby at all you’d show her those security tapes, but you know the minute you do I’ll leak your little X-rated fuckfest for the whole world to see.” He stepped closer, even when I dropped my arm and moved back a step. “Think about it, Jordi. Everyone could see every last disgusting thing you do. Imagine good ol’ Shane whacking off to you sucking Jace’s dick.” I closed my eyes to erase the disturbing thought that he immediately and gleefully planted in my head. “That’s right. And you know it would happen, too. You can see it, can’t you? You always could. That’s why you’ll screw over every single person you know to keep your secret safe. The simple truth is you like being a dirty little whore on your knees with a nice fat cock in your mouth.”

  My hand laid a sickening crack across his arrogant cheek. “You’re disgusting,” I gritted between clenched teeth.

  He never lost that damnable smile. “But I’m right. And you know it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch. Which means you have some checks to write.”

  He spun on his heel and left me flabbergasted in the underground parking garage.

  When I let myself into the house a half-hour later, Jace was not there to soothe my wounds. Instead there was an email from my private investigator.

  He’d found the woman he suspected was my birth mother, and she was living in Las Vegas, Nevada.

  In an afternoon I went from having no mother at all, to a mother who was just a car ride away. With just five more monosyllabic words, he changed everything I might have had planned for my immediate future. Everything else in my crazy, chaotic life came second to a simple sentence.

  “She wants to meet you.”

  I knew I had some decisions to make. And I had to figure it out fast.