Broken Lyric ((Meltdown book 2))

by RB Hilliard

  “Gavin, along with the truck full of my things, never showed up in Florida. It was as if he’d disappeared. He didn’t answer his phone or his texts. Finally, I was so worried that I called the hospital.” I frantically wiped the tears away, before continuing, “His boss said that he’d been killed in a hit and run accident. He was killed the night before he was supposed to leave for Florida.”

  “Scoot over,” Nash said.

  “What?” I jerked my head up to find him looming over me.

  “Scoot over,” he repeated, and made a swishing movement with his hand.

  “I c-can’t,” I told him.

  He dipped his head down, and said, “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  “Mr. Bostwick,” one of the detectives admonished.

  Nash paused long enough to tell him that he could either allow this to happen, or come back tomorrow. In the end, the detective gave in. Nash oh-so-carefully moved me over, and slid into bed beside me.

  Once we were settled, I muttered, “Dr. Wheatley is going to kill you.”

  “She can bring it on,” he replied. In the midst of such a horrible moment, Nash had given me the most precious gift. He’d made me smile.

  “Please continue,” Detective Bezos said. He was clearly annoyed, but I didn’t care as I now had Nash beside me.

  Nash gave my hand a squeeze of reassurance, and I told them about the phone call from Gavin’s phone. How Conor admitted to killing my best friend. How I ran, only to discover him already in Florida, hunting me. I explained my transformation from Gillian to Rowan, and finally, how I’d come to be Maeve Bostwick’s private nurse. Nash held onto my hand as I explained, and I soaked up his warmth and gained strength from his touch.

  “Did you ever speak of Conor O’Brien to anyone?” Detective Bezos asked. “We’re just trying to figure out how he found you,” he added.

  “A few months ago I was run off the road.” Nash tensed beside me.

  “What?” he angrily whispered.

  “At first I thought that Conor had found me. It turned out to be a truck full of teenagers out for a joyride, but in my moment of panic, I mentioned Conor’s name to Nash’s mom. Maeve latched onto it like a dog with a bone. When she made the assumption that Conor was an old boyfriend and I’d been in an abusive relationship, I didn’t correct her.” I looked over my shoulder at Nash, and tried to explain. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think less of me. I should have left right then and there, but I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey,” Nash said as he wiped my tears away, “Conor didn’t kill my mother, cancer did.”

  “But he f-f-ound me. He was in the house. He left the rose on Maeve’s bed. He could have hurt the two of you. I was so selfish for staying. You both made me feel s-s-so loved,” I sobbed.

  “I think we’re done for now,” Nash said to the detectives.

  “I agree. Will tomorrow morning, let’s say at ten, work for you?” Detective Bezos asked.

  “That’s fine,” Nash answered. Everyone filed out of my hospital room while I sobbed into Nash’s chest.

  “I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he whispered, and I wanted to believe him, I really did, but something deep in my gut told me that this was far from over.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Still Standing

  Nash

  Rowan…my sweet, beautiful, brave girl. All this time she’s been running, and I never knew. As I watched her chest rise and fall while she slept, I couldn’t help but wonder what else I didn’t know about her. I called a halt to the interrogation because I could see the emotional toll it was taking on her. Plus, I wasn’t sure I had the fortitude to sit and listen to her describe what that dickhead had done to her. It was one thing to see it, but another to hear a blow-by-blow reenactment of it.

  “What are you thinking?” Rowan groggily asked. I lowered my gaze to her face, and, as much as I wanted to look past the bruises that marred her perfect skin, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear that she’d been violated, but I needed to know what I was dealing with.

  “When I spoke with Dr. Wheatley, she said that Conor didn’t…I mean, obviously he hurt you, but he didn’t…” I searched for a better word than rape, but my mind blanked. Rowan’s fingers clasped mine. I dropped my eyes to the casted wrist that he’d broken, before looking away. I was trying so hard to be careful with her, but I was so damn angry.

  “He didn’t rape me, Nash.” Her words sliced through the rage, and I closed my eyes as relief washed through me.

  A sudden noise from outside the door caused Rowan to tense. Placing a kiss on the side of her head, I told her it was most likely Grant. She instantly relaxed and I carefully slipped off the bed and padded over to open the door. Earlier, while Rowan was asleep, I’d texted Grant and asked him to drop off my bag and guitar.

  Right as I reached the door, in walked the entire gang. One by one they filed into the room with smiles on their faces. Chaz was the last in. I had to admit it. I was surprised to see him. “Well, hello, Charles,” I said as he passed by me.

  “Don’t get too excited. Mallory totally guilted me into coming today,” he responded in his usual dickhead fashion. I opened my mouth to tell him to leave, but quickly shut it when I heard Rowan laugh. Chaz’s expression softened when he saw her smiling at him from her hospital bed. “Good to see you’re okay, Nursey,” he told her.

  “Thanks for stopping by, even if you were coerced,” she replied. I was struck dumb when the fucker smiled at her.

  Grant handed over my stuff and I set it on the floor by the window. While Mallory and Rowan talked about rescheduling their shopping spree, the guys wandered over to where I was standing.

  “We’re done with the tour, right?” Evan asked. All eyes turned to Grant. Grant lifted his brow at me, and I nodded my head. Whether they were done or not, I sure as hell was.

  “I’ll have Blane officially cancel it,” Grant responded. I gave him a look of gratitude. “I think we can all agree that this mini tour was a bad idea from start to finish. We… should have taken more time off after Luke. I let Blane talk me into this and I shouldn’t have. Anyway, I want to take Mallory away for a few weeks. After that we’re going full speed ahead on wedding plans.”

  “Yay! Does this mean you’ve set a date? Rowan called out. We turned to see the two girls smiling at us.

  “So much for a private conversation,” Chaz muttered. Mallory and Rowan both laughed. That was the second time the ass clown had made Rowan laugh today. I didn’t know whether to kiss the guy or kick him.

  “Wait, we’re still planning on recording the new album, right?” Evan asked.

  Grant’s eyes shot to Mallory, and she nodded her head in encouragement. “About that – Mallory and I would like for you to join us at our house in Austin to record this next album. The downstairs studio is top of the line and we’ve got plenty of bedrooms to spare. You can bring your wife,” he directed at Evan. He gave Chaz a wary look. “And I guess you can bring Paula, but only if she behaves.” Chaz curled his lip at Grant, but surprisingly kept his mouth shut.

  “What about the wedding?” Rowan asked.

  “I was hoping you’d help me plan it,” Mallory answered. Rowan’s eyes lit up with excitement.

  “I would love to, only…” Her eyes darted to me and dimmed with uncertainty.

  “Rowan would love to. Also, we have a few spare bedrooms at our house, in case you’d rather stay with us,” I offered to Evan and Chaz. Rowan’s eyes glistened with emotion and I fought the urge to go to her.

  “I’ll be there whenever you want me, but I wouldn’t count on my wife joining us,” Evan glumly responded. While I didn’t know his exact situation, I sure as hell felt sorry for the guy.

  “How about this,” I told him, “go home and discuss it with her. If need be, we’ll carve out pockets of recording time. You’re a part of this now, so we’ll just have to make it work, right?” I stared pointedly at Grant and Chaz for affirmation.


  “Recording in your basement will never work,” Chaz told Grant.

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but Grant cut him off. “We’ll make it work.” Chaz scowled, and Grant continued, “Since we launched our last album with the U.S. tour, what if we launch this album in Europe?”

  I smiled over at Rowan. “You wanna go to Europe with me?”

  “Spring me from this place and I’ll go anywhere with you,” she replied, and I wanted to kiss her. Fuck yes she was going with me.

  Evan turned to me, and said, “Bro, we have to record your song.”

  “What song?” Chaz asked.

  Evan opened his mouth to answer, but I cut him off. “The song I plan to play for Rowan once you’re gone, which,” I glanced down at my watch, “should be about now.” A dreamy look appeared on Ro’s face as she stared at my guitar. My dick inappropriately twitched in my pants. My girl clearly liked the idea of me singing to her.

  “One more thing and then we’ll get out of your hair,” Grant said. “As a group, we need to decide what to do about Blane.”

  “What has he done now?” Evan asked.

  “More like what hasn’t he done?” Chaz muttered under his breath.

  “You really don’t like him, do you?” Grant asked.

  “No.”

  Nope.”

  No,” the three of us collectively replied.

  “Blane is nothing but a gold-digging nuisance. We should have cut his ass loose after his dad fucked you over,” Chaz told Grant. For once, I could have kissed Chaz for his lack of tact. Grant knew what I thought of Blane, but it was high time he heard it from someone else.

  Even if Grant tried to play it off, I could tell that he was surprised by Chaz’s response. “Blane is good with the details. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell do not want to get stuck dealing with the administrative bullshit. Do you?” Grant was obviously frustrated, but keeping Blane was not the answer.

  “Blane doesn’t do shit. Marcy does all the work,” Chaz told him.

  Grant scowled. “No she doesn’t.”

  “Yes she does,” Chaz and I both argued.

  “Look, I’m the last in, so I really don’t know what the guy does or doesn’t do. If you don’t want him and you don’t think that Marcy can handle it, you could always hire someone else,” Evan suggested.

  “Wait, what exactly did Blane do?” Mallory asked. I shot Grant a look of warning.

  “What hasn’t Blane done?” I asked.

  “Nothing, babe. Just stupid administrative crap,” Grant dismissively answered her question.

  “I say we fire the dumb ass, and be done with it once and for all,” Chaz added, before turning to Rowan, and asking, “So, should we now call you Rowan or would you prefer Gillian?”

  “Chaz!” Mallory scolded.

  He shrugged. “What? It’s a logical question.” Rowan’s face turned red with embarrassment, and I wanted to throat punch him. Just when I was starting to somewhat like the guy he had to go and ruin it…again.

  Rowan quietly answered his question. “I prefer Rowan. I…uh…haven’t been called Gillian in a very long time.”

  “Then Rowan it is,” Chaz said.

  Mallory, looking as if she could spit nails, asked, “So, what’s up with you and Paula? Did she finally dump your ass?” Grant snickered and Chaz shot him an eat shit look, before raising his middle finger at Mallory. Rowan burst into a fit of giggles and the fucker had the nerve to wink at her. He needed to quit flirting with my girl.

  Mallory shook her head at Chaz. Then she turned to a still giggling Rowan, and smiled. “Well, I for one am so relieved you’re okay and that horrible man is dead.” Rowan’s eyes shot to me, and I thought, Fuck!

  “Dead?” she asked. Mallory slid her gaze to me and I shook my head at her. She flinched in understanding when she realized that Rowan didn’t know about Conor.

  “And that is our cue to leave,” Grant said.

  “Wait, don’t leave. Conor’s dead?” Rowan asked. Mallory carefully hugged her, Grant blew her a kiss, Evan waved, and Chaz tossed up a backhanded middle finger. Once they were out the door, I turned to face a very unhappy Rowan. “Conor’s dead?” she asked again.

  “He is,” I answered.

  Her eyes bulged with shock. “How, when, why didn’t you tell me?” she screeched, and flinched at the pain it apparently caused.

  “Because of this,” I pointed to her arms which were wrapped protectively over her ribs. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Oh my gosh, Nash! I’ve been rocking along worried sick that Conor’s going to come for me any minute and all along he’s been dead! Tell me everything, and I mean every last bit of it.” Her tone brooked no argument. She was pissed, and the only way I was getting out of this was to tell her what I knew. She slid her legs over and waited for me to take a seat at the foot of her bed.

  Once settled, I began to explain what happened the day she called from Conor’s place. I told her how I’d wanted to come for her, but couldn’t, thanks to Garrett and his phone call to Hank. I explained how angry I was. Hell, I was still angry about it.

  “I’m glad you didn’t see me like that,” Rowan quietly admitted. “I don’t remember much after…” Her lip trembled and I had to look away. Either that or I was going to seriously fuck something up. “I’m okay,” she said, once she’d pulled herself together.

  “Yeah? Well I’m not. I’m so damn angry I can’t see straight. I want to kill him for touching you, but I can’t because he’s already fucking dead.”

  “Nash,” she whispered. I lifted my eyes to her bruised and battered face, and took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Now, tell me what happened when Garrett arrived.”

  Somehow I managed to swallow down my anger enough to explain. “Garrett wanted to get to you first, so he waited until they’d reached Conor’s apartment complex before calling in the police. Once the police arrived and were fully briefed, they knocked on the door. When no one answered, they debated whether or not to go in. Finally, Garrett and his boys convinced the police that you were in danger. At first they thought they were going to have to break the door down, but then discovered that it was unlocked. They found Conor’s body a few feet from the door. He was face down on the floor.” Rowan’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “Dead?” she asked.

  I nodded, yes, before continuing, “Garrett began searching for you while the police were occupied with examining Conor’s body.”

  Rowan looked like she was going to be sick, and I regretted having to tell her. She wasn’t ready. “How did he die?” she finally asked. Then she gasped. “Oh, God, tell me they don’t think I did it?” I scooted as close to her as I could manage without bothering her IV or monitors. As I slid my hand into hers, she grasped my fingers.

  “They found you locked in a room upstairs. You were lying unconscious on the floor. There was no possible way that you could have killed him.” The look of terror in her eyes scared me. “Ro, look at me,” I ordered. Her eyes snapped to mine. Panic swam in their depths, and I wanted to kill Conor O’ Brien all over again. “The police don’t know who killed Conor, but they know you couldn’t have done it. Do you hear me?”

  She nodded her head. “He caught me on the phone with you. When I wouldn’t tell him who I was talking to, he lost his mind. I tried to run, but… he got me. The doorbell rang while he was beating me.” I wiped a tear as it trickled down her cheek. “Whoever was at his door saved my life, Nash.” Whoever was at the door most likely killed Conor, I thought.

  I pulled her uninjured hand to my lips and kissed it. “I’m so sorry I left you.”

  “I can’t say that it didn’t hurt at the time, but I understood. You were in pain. I just wished you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”

  “When Grant told me that Mallory had come by the house to pick you up and you weren’t there. I knew something was wrong. God, I nearly lost my mind with worry.”

  “All I could think
about was getting back to you,” she said through her tears.

  “And all I could think about was how much I’d messed up. I didn’t mean to blame you. If I could take it all back, I would.”

  Her green eyes seared through me. “I wouldn’t. I had the best months of my life with your mother. I wouldn’t trade one single moment.” Her heartfelt words were like an emotional gut punch.

  “I left you to that fucking monster.” I harshly whispered.

  “One way or the other he was going to get me, Nash. If you had been there he would have killed you. It was bad enough he had me. If he’d hurt you I would never have forgiven myself.”

  I thought about what she’d said earlier about the rose, and asked, “Do you think he killed Mom?” Rowan let out a dry laugh.

  “Get this. He said that he admired her. That he thought about killing her, but there was no point because she was dying anyway.”

  “And you believed him?” I questioned.

  Rowan’s eyes softened in understanding. “Conor was a narcissistic pig. If he’d killed Maeve he would have spent the entire time gloating about it.” I stared out the window and thought about how I wished I could tell her the same. Conor might not have killed my mom, but I knew deep in my gut that he was responsible for the death of her father. After a long uncomfortable pause, Rowan asked, “What aren’t you telling me?” I had to give it to her, my girl was perceptive. She knew there was more. More that I dreaded talking about. She needed to know about her dad. As much as I wanted her to hear it from me, the thought of telling her was killing me. Her breath hitched. “Just say it,” she begged.

  Slowly, I lifted my eyes to hers. Then I told her. “Nine months ago your father’s grocery store was robbed. He gave them the money, but they were apparently after more.”

  “No!” she gasped.

  I swallowed thickly, and, ignoring the ache in my chest, continued. “They shot him three times. He was gone before the medics got there.”

  “Oh God,” she wailed. I wanted to hold her, but I didn’t want to hurt her. Finally, I thought, fuck it, and scooted close enough to lift her onto my lap. She sobbed into my chest as I held her close. “Conor lied,” she repeated over and over again. I wasn’t sure what she was referring to, but it didn’t matter. She needed to get it all out. Finally, the nurse came in and sedated her.