Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2)

by Vanessa Lennox

  “David, David, wait, please wait. Please don’t do what I think you’re going to do. If you really want me, you wouldn’t treat me like a trespasser in my own home. We need to discuss this as it affects both of us, okay. I have a concert in a few days, I can’t miss it. Now help me up off the floor and I’ll make tea. Do you take milk or lemon?” He had gotten off of her because of her confusing tone of voice. She put a hand up so he could help her off the floor, which he did, still feeling confused.

  “Lemon,” he said slowly as if hypnotized. He responded well to being told what to do, it seemed. Maybe she needed to be forceful with him. She pointed to one of the stools at the counter and went to fill her kettle at the sink, keeping a wary eye on him. He didn’t sit, only stood next to her at the sink. He wasn’t responding well to being told what to do anymore. “You’re not mad?”

  “I feel better now that I’m not sprawled out on the floor and you don’t have a knife to my face. My hands hurt from the impact, but I’m mostly angry you thought you should cut my face.”

  “It’s the only way Fiona, otherwise people won’t see what I see.” He stared at her as if he really did adore her. She had to get that knife away from him. “In time you’ll see this is for the best.”

  “I think we need to seriously get to know each other before we decide if I’m worthy enough for you to mutilate my face. What if I’m really a harpy behind a pretty face, and that’s why I couldn’t keep any boyfriends. Had you considered that?”

  “But you’re Fiona Brooks. You wouldn’t be a harpy, of course you’re worthy of me mutilating…let’s use a different word. I like…readjusting.”

  “No, David we need to be honest, if nothing else. You planned on mutilating my face.” She was being overly hopeful with the use of the past tense. He ignored her and continued on his train of thought.

  “My parents followed your story since I was like eight years old. You were on the cover of TIME magazine when you were seven. You were an American prodigy, all the others were foreign,” his mouth looked like it had a bad taste in it. “You and I were meant for each other. You’re why I studied music my whole life.” He’d been a stalker since he was eight, wonderful. “This was all part of their plan, and it’s time. I’m tired of waiting.”

  “They said you should cut me?”

  “No, that part didn’t make itself clear until recently,” he said.

  “Do you think I’m pretty?”

  “Of course,” he said quickly.

  “Do you like that I’m pretty?”

  “Yes,” it was an animal moan.

  “I think you should put the knife down and touch my face,” she knew her voice was shaking. He didn’t put the knife down, but lifted the hand the knife wasn’t in to her cheek and moaned again.

  “So beautiful, you’re like a painting done by a master. I understand their weakness, Fiona. I don’t blame you for sleeping with those other men,” he was staring at her face and stroking her cheek. She took a deep breath when she realized she had been holding it.

  “Do you enjoy looking at my face?”

  “More than anything,” he said.

  “Because if suddenly you don’t like that you made me ugly, then what?”

  “That’s just it, Fiona, I will still love you even when you’re ugly.”

  “But you’ll be in prison. Who will love ugly me while you are stuck in prison for the rest of your life?” He started to look anguished. “You’ll never see me again after the trial.”

  “But it has to be done, Fiona. Don’t you see?” He stepped closer to her. “I don’t know how else to prove to you that I love you more than they do.”

  “You’re here, David, they are not. That’s got to be worth something. Now let’s have our tea and discuss this before someone gets hurt.” This was it, he was going to slice her face open; she had seen the change in his eyes. He was girding his loins and gripping his knife.

  He brought the knife up to her face and she grabbed the kettle and smashed it, heavy with the water in it, into his head. He went down like ton of bricks. She screamed in horror and the need to release the adrenalin that was coursing through her body. Then she screamed again for good measure and because it had felt so good the first time.

  Where was her phone?

  She pulled it and the garage door remote out of her pocket and nearly dropped it, the muscles in her hand didn’t seem to be working. Looking down at the phone she saw the blood covering her hand. She felt quite dizzy suddenly. She sat abruptly on the floor and rang Liam.

  “What’s up, Fifi?”

  “I’m bleeding…” she said right before she slipped into unconsciousness, Tate’s gorgeous face smiling at her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I think you should call Tate,” Liam said as he helped Fiona up the stairs to her bedroom the day after he found her on her kitchen floor bleeding to death. They operated on her arm to close the nicked brachial artery. Liam spent the better portion of his evening waiting for her to come out of surgery at Georgetown, Liam hated hospitals. They kept Fiona overnight. She didn’t want to stay, she’d had her fill the night they pumped her stomach, but they wouldn’t let her go. Liam slept in her recovery room with her and the next day they sent her on her way with a list of things to do for her nasty gash.

  “Absolutely not. He has this knight in shining armor fixation. If he figures out his heart and comes back to me, I want it to be because he loves me, not because he thinks I need him to tend to me. Plus, I’m on pain killers and I’d just beg him to love me, it would not be pretty.” She tried to keep climbing steps after she was already at the top and nearly fell.

  “Easy there, Grace,” Liam said and turned her toward her room.

  “I miss him, Liam. It’s so weird, I’ve never felt lonely before, I liked being by myself. Now I can’t breathe,” Fiona bit her lower lip. “Sorry, you don’t need to hear this.”

  “Go to bed, Fifi. Try not to bleed to death.” Liam tucked her in and left to go make some calls in the guestroom.

  Fiona’s phone buzzed and she looked at the display. Tess.

  “H’lo Tess,” Fiona said.

  “Hi Fiona. Are you okay? You sound off.” She took a deep breath and told Tess the whole story. Tess was appalled.

  “You need to tell Tate,” she said.

  “I knew you were going to say that,” Fiona said.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do,” Tess exclaimed.

  “I can’t, I want him to come to me because he knows he loves me, not because I was in danger. How is he? Do you know?”

  “He’s a wreck. He’s scared to death. Christie says he’s trashed his house and he only communicates in grunts and glares. Men are such fools.”

  “Yes, but they aren’t the only ones, I should call Tate.”

  “Yes, you should.”

  “Goodnight, Tess.”

  “Fiona, it’s like three o’clock there.”

  “I know, goodnight.”

  Liam knocked on her door, came in and sat on the bed next to his sister.

  “Are you okay?”

  “A little loopy,” she said with a smile. “That was Tess.”

  “She’s a good friend,” Liam said.

  “I don’t think I tell you how much I love you often enough, Liam. In fact, I know I don’t.” He looked at her and wondered if he was going to cry. Time to change the subject, he thought. He couldn’t be seen crying because his little sister told him she loved him.

  “Hollander didn’t make it, Fifi, you crushed his skull. I just got the call. He won’t be a problem anymore.” Fiona nodded and her eyes filled with tears. “I know Fi, I know.” He gathered her in his arms and she wept.

  ***

  Fiona’s arm was throbbing as she stood in the wings of the Wang Theater in the Citi Performing Arts Center in Boston, waiting for her introduction. No painkillers, she was afraid they’d mess with her performance, and that would be unacceptable. This performance had been sold out for mont
hs, she felt obliged to deliver, as she had always felt.

  She loved this art deco theater, it was old and elegant. The first time she’d ever performed was on this very stage, so many years ago. She tried not to think of the thousands of people who came to hear the aging child prodigy play through the throb of her arm.

  There had been very little practicing, and no warm up since she was afraid to re-open her arm before the performance. Some of these patrons had purchased their tickets more than a year in advance, and she wanted to give them their money’s worth. If she passed out at the piano they would at least get a little drama with their ticket.

  She took one last deep breath and stepped out on to the stage and the roar of applause got incredibly loud. Okay, she loved her job. She lifted her right arm into the air and waved with a big toothy smile and bowed. The crowd stilled and hushed as she turned and walked to the piano and sat on the bench. From roar to no sound at all, it was surreal.

  The music burst out of her and she played for a full hour like it was no time at all. She was in what the athletes referred to as the zone, and it was near flawless. When she finished and came to awareness she realized she had been bleeding and there was blood on the arm of her red dress. She was glad Tess made her chose red. She stood and stepped away from the piano and smiled at her crowd. She heard the shouts of “Brava!” from them and she bowed gracefully to them a few times, blew a kiss to where she thought Tess was, waved again and made her way to the wings.

  She knew Tess and her family were in the crowd, and she wanted to do a quick encore for Lally. Stepping into the wings, she took a long drink of her bottle of water and assessed her arm. Not too much blood. She ran her right hand down to smooth out her dress, and stepped back out on to the stage. They were still clapping wildly, someone with a piercing whistle was making a scene, and there was an occasional “Encore,” shouted and then the roar that met her became deafening. She went straight to the bench and was nearly playing before the clapping stopped. Rachmaninoff. Three and a half minutes of speed key pounding. She could do it in her sleep.

  Once done she bowed quickly and strode off the stage and collapsed in a chair there.

  “Fiona, you’re bleeding,” a concerned voice said from the dark of the wing.

  “I’m okay, I just opened a cut on my arm. Could you help me to my dressing room?” She couldn’t quite move just yet, the pain in her arm had become rather intense.

  “Of course,” she looked up into the flame blue eyes of Clay de Kooning.

  “Thank you, Clay,” she said.

  “This is my absolute pleasure. Brilliant performance tonight, by the way,” he said kneeling in front of her chair. “And you are flushed and lovely.”

  “Oh good,” she said. “I’m glad it was okay.” Ignoring his other statement, she focused on his compliment about the playing. She knew it was nearly flawless, it was part of her gift to be able to remember her mistakes just as she remembered her triumphs. Tonight would be a mark in the triumph side, it really was brilliant.

  By the time they got there, a crowd had assembled outside the dressing room door. Tess and her family. Fiona thanked Clay and greeted her friends. Connor and Genna were there, clinging to each other, Connor was staring at her like he was trying to commit her face to memory, and Genna was smiling her beautiful smile. Xav was leaning casually against the wall, and gave her a big grin and the thumbs up. Fiona could have sworn he had grown since she’d seen him on Thanksgiving. Amelia and Alasdair looked like they wanted to adopt her they were so proud.

  “Brava, my dear. Brava!” Alasdair said to her with tears in his eyes.

  “Rachmaninoff was my gift to you. Now you have eight of them,” she said and he and his wife laughed.

  “Thank you, my dear.”

  “Fiona, you’ve opened your stitches,” Tess scolded.

  “Stitches?” Almost everyone echoed. Tess told her mother, who told Connor, but no one else knew about what had happened to Fiona a few days earlier in her kitchen.

  Fiona waved her off and opened the door. There was a plethora of flowers in the small dressing room, and Clay moved several so she could sit at the vanity.

  “How did you get backstage?” Fiona asked him.

  “I’m on the board,” he said simply and stood to kiss her cheek. “I was hoping we could go to my place, or yours…Hey Connor, Genna, et al,” he waved to encompass them all.

  “Clay,” Connor said cautiously, suddenly feeling protective of Fiona. Connor knew Clay’s reputation with women, and he had hoped Tate would have had his shit together by now, and Clay was just going to screw with things.

  “If you all would give us a minute, I need to get out of my dress,” everyone left but Clay and Tess.

  “I can help her out of the dress,” Clay said with a devastating grin.

  “No you can’t. Thank you for your kind offer, Clay, but my heart is spoken for.”

  “That’s sweet, Fiona, but it’s not your heart I’m after,” he said and she would have been offended if he wasn’t so damned earnest.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” Fiona said. “Tess, where are my pain killers, I’m dying.” Tess pulled a bottle out of her purse. Fiona pulled her dress down her good arm and then more carefully down the other. The blood was not actually pouring out, but the bandage was saturated. They looked at her arm together with the same look on their faces. “Ew.”

  “Here, pull your dress back up, we’ll get you back to the hotel and re-wrap it there,” Tess said.

  A few minutes later they opened the door to Tate standing, waiting with a single red rose in his hand. He looked forlorn. In fact, he looked really awful. His eyes were ringed in black and he had lost weight.

  “Tate,” Fiona said and Tess stepped away from them and out the door, closing it behind her.

  “Fiona…” he didn’t know where to start.

  “Your mom, is she…?”

  “Nah, she’s fine…well as fine as she’s going to be. She suggested I come, in that subtle way she has. She said I was a right eejit and I’d be lucky if you took me back. Fiona,” he looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. “Fiona, I’m an eejit and I’d be lucky if you take me back but I’m begging you. I love you, Fi. It scares the bejesus out of me but there it is. The way we left it…You didn’t answer my calls…I was afraid I’d blown it for good. Tell me if you’ve moved on, I saw Clay out there.”

  “You really are an eejit. I haven’t moved on, Tate, I can’t switch my affections so blithely.”

  “Then you still think you might be falling in love with me?” He asked with a little grin.

  “No,” she said and his stomach fell to his feet and his grin disappeared. “I’m way past thinking, I know I love you.” She grinned back. He leaned in and kissed her very softly on the lips and then looked at her to see how that went. She looked like it went pretty well, he thought, and he took her by the upper arms to pull her close and she hissed in pain.

  “Christ, what have I done to you?” She clutched her arm to her and he could see blood on her dress. “My sweet Fi, you’re bleeding, lassie.” She nodded and bit her lip hard to keep from crying out.

  “I was attacked, my arm was sliced open, nicking the brachial artery,” she whispered.

  “You were attacked!”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted.

  “You’re bloody not, you’re bleeding all over. You played like this?” He was shouting.

  “Tate.”

  “Oh Christ Fi, was it the Russians?” He was despondent.

  “No, it was David Hollander,” she said but saw that he couldn’t place him.

  “Who?”

  “My colleague, the one we met on the street the day after Thanksgiving,” she explained.

  “I’ll bloody kill the bastard. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Can we do this later, Tate? I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course, forgive me. I can’t believe you played tonight with that. You are a feckin’ genius,
by the way.” She smiled at his praise. “Do you need a doctor?” She shook her head.

  “I don’t think so, I need to take a look.”

  “Then let’s look.”

  “All my stuff is at the hotel.”

  “Then let’s get you to the hotel,” he said.

  “I have a brief meet and greet in the lobby, but immediately after, okay?” He kissed her.

  “Aye, lass. I’m yours to command for as long as you’ll have me,” he said and nuzzled her neck. “I like your hair up like this.” Her hair was up in large combs. “And I can’t wait to take it down.” He opened the door and there was the crowd of some of his favorite people. “She’s bleeding all over the place.” Fiona rolled her eyes.

  “I’m okay, just eager to get to the hotel,” they turned to see Liam striding toward them, an older man keeping up with him, walking with the same purposeful gait.

  “Fifi, you were brilliant!” Liam boomed. The older man looked at the crowd of people, starting with Tess and moving slowly to Genna, then quickly perused the men. When he caught Connor’s eye he jumped back a step.

  “Oh Christ, it’s Kathleen’s boy,” Billy McBride said and Connor hauled off and punched him in the face, knocking him flat.

  “Tate, meet my father,” Fiona gestured to the floor.

  ***

  Everyone gathered in Connor’s and Genna’s suite once they finished up at the Wang Theater, because that’s where everyone always gathered. Xav and Tess sat on the floor, back to back, leaning on each other. Genna and Tate administered to Fiona’s arm while she complained about their abuse. Clay had left after a few minutes of undiluted but well received flattery for Fiona at the meet and greet. Liam sat stunned to learn about the newest member of his family. Billy McBride moaned into his whiskey about ungrateful children while holding an ice pack to his jaw. Connor stood in the far corner shooting daggers at Billy McBride, fisting his hands.