Wicked Serenade: a Lost in Oblivion Collection

by Quinn, Cari

  But not quite.

  “You won’t tell me where you’re going,” she said, not bothering to make it a question. She already knew the answer.

  He drew back, his smile fading. “Just trust me, okay? I’ll be back soon.” He picked up his wallet and gestured toward the tangled sheets. “Get some sleep, all right? You look tired.”

  She nearly laughed. Tired didn’t come close to describing how worn out she felt all of a sudden. And she wasn’t even certain why.

  “I love you,” he said, hesitating in the doorway before closing the door behind him.

  It was only after he’d gone that she realized he’d been waiting for her to say it back.

  After a while, she rose and went into the bathroom to dig through her makeup case. She took a couple of Benadryl to help her sleep and followed them with a glass of water, nearly crushing the paper cup in her hand as it started to shake again.

  Something was off. She didn’t know what, but it was more than Gray keeping a questionable appointment. She wanted nothing more than to chase after him and insist she go too. They were a team, and that meant he shouldn’t do the big things alone.

  Unless this was a small, usual thing. Like meeting with his drug dealer and getting a celebratory line or two to tide him over.

  She tossed out her cup and went back into the bedroom. Though she had no desire to sleep, she curled up in the messy bedding and tugged his pillow to her face. His scent comforted her enough to close her eyes.

  When she opened them again, muted sunlight slanted across the bedroom and someone was pounding on the door. Not someone. Nick.

  “Hey lovebirds, we got a show to do. Rise and shine.”

  She rubbed her eyes and reached out for Gray. It had already become a habit for her to touch him when she awakened. But no one slept beside her and the sheets were cool.

  Dread combed icy fingers through her belly as she scrambled to her knees. She glanced around the room, getting her bearings. The cabin. Gray leaving. God, she must’ve slept the whole day away. It took her a moment or two to realize his suitcase was in the same place he’d left it on the floor that morning, the contents still spilling out. His wallet and cell phone weren’t on the nightstand.

  God, he hadn’t come back.

  She grabbed the sheet and stumbled to her feet a second before Nick pushed open the door. “Where is he?” she demanded, despite knowing he didn’t have an answer.

  How could he? From his question, he’d obviously believed Gray had been in the bedroom with her.

  “He’s not here?” Nick didn’t appear to notice she was naked, which gave her enough time to wrap the sheet around herself toga-style. “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know.” She rubbed her hand under her nose and rushed to the nightstand to grab her own phone.

  It only took her a moment to discover her only missed calls were from Harper, who was wondering when she’d get her catering truck back—luckily, she didn’t have a job today—and why Jazz had been under the mistaken impression that she wanted a kitten. Actually, two kittens, since Jazz had foisted them onto Harper last night before hurrying back to the cabin with Gray.

  “He hasn’t called me. Oh God, what time is it?” Jazz answered her own question by glancing at her phone. Past three in the afternoon. Fuck. She’d slept through the meeting with Lila. “I missed the meeting. We missed it.”

  “Lila rescheduled until tomorrow. She had something come up.”

  “But rehearsal—”

  “Simon bagged on rehearsal today. Something about a scratchy throat. He probably can’t feel his legs after partying too hard last night and needed to sleep it off for a few more hours.”

  Nick’s voice sounded too cheerful, as if he grasped that she was on the verge of losing it so he didn’t want to say anything to push her over the edge. Too fucking late.

  “He said he’d be back hours ago and he’s not here. He didn’t call me. Did he call you?”

  “Uh, no. Why would he?”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.” She sat on the edge of the bed and sent off a quick text to Gray, trying not to panic. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t reply. She’d known he wouldn’t.

  Goddammit, she’d known this was going to happen. Even without fully grasping what this was, she’d felt it coming this morning even before he’d gotten the call that had taken him away from her.

  “I didn’t say I love you back,” she said dully, staring at her silent phone. “He said it to me and I didn’t say anything back because I was pissed he wouldn’t tell me where he was going.” Eyes painfully dry, she lifted her head. “He went to score, didn’t he?”

  Nick pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t find out he was using the other night from Snake,” she said slowly, taking in the way his body stiffened degree-by-degree. “You’ve known for a while.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it matters. Yes, it fucking matters!” She hurled her phone. It smacked against the wall and dropped to the floor. “You said we were friends, that you cared about me.”

  “Christ, you’re naked and wearing his ring, but I’m still standing here with you. Doesn’t that fucking prove that I do?” he gritted out, pacing to the window.

  She glanced down at her engagement ring and something inside her shattered, just broke in two. The sound that came out of her wasn’t human. She clutched her stomach and bent over, scarcely aware of Nick kneeling at her side to stroke her back.

  “Jazz. Listen to me. Get dressed and we’ll figure this out.”

  She shook her head, eyes so full she couldn’t see through the wall of tears. “No, no, no.”

  She hurt so deeply that she couldn’t identify where all the pain was coming from. It seemed to originate both inside and outside of her body, as if hammers were pounding nails into her skin. Into soft tissue. Breathing was almost impossible over the lump in her throat. And her stomach. God. She felt violently sick, on the verge of throwing up everything she hadn’t eaten all day. Just retching until she purged all of the agony taking up space inside her.

  “Dammit, you’re not going to break down on me. Do you hear me? Fuck it all, he’s fine. He better be, because I intend to fucking kill him myself for this stunt.”

  Nick dragged her into his lap. All she could do was press her face into his shoulder and cling to his neck for everything she was worth.

  “Y-you don’t understand. He promised me. He never lied, never. Something’s wrong. I feel it. Oh God, I’m going to be sick.” She tried to shift off his lap but got tangled in the sheet and fell on the rug, landing hard on her ass. Even that pain barely registered over all of the rest. “They could hurt him.” She stared blearily up at Nick. His helplessness poured over her, and she still couldn’t find it in herself to get it together. “He could be hurt, and I didn’t even tell him I love him.”

  “They have no reason to hurt him. He gave them the money he owed—” Nick broke off, his gaze dropping to her hand and back up to her face. “Get dressed, Jazz,” he said, his statement nearly inaudible.

  For a moment, she didn’t know why she couldn’t hear him clearly. Then she realized she was crying again, even more loudly than before.

  “Listen to me. I have someone I can call. She…knows people who might know the ones that Gray knows.” He gripped her chin, holding on as she tried to shove him away. “Give me time to do some checking around.”

  “It’s been hours.” She crossed her arms over her chest, holding the tangled sheet in place. “What if he took too much? He could’ve overdosed.”

  “No. I don’t think that’s it.” Nick crouched beside her, his fingers still tensed on her face. “But until he shows up or I talk to Ricki, we can’t let anyone else know what’s going on. We have a show tonight.”

  She stared at him, her mouth dropping open. “You think I give a flying fuck about the show?”

  “You better, because if he doesn’t appear,
you’re going to be playing rhythm guitar for him.”

  She didn’t speak. Her tears trickled to a halt. “You’ve lost your frigging mind.”

  He chuckled, the sound forced and unnatural. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  “Do you understand what this means? He’s been gone eight hours when he said he’d be right back. I can’t think of—”

  “Let me break this down for you. If we don’t do the show, Lila and Deak will get wise to what’s going on. And that will spell plenty of trouble for your guy.”

  She dropped her head into her hands. “I haven’t played guitar in years.”

  “Stop bullshitting me. You were playing it the other night just fine.”

  “I was tinkering with it for a new song! Not playing for real. It’s not my fucking instrument anymore. I can’t get up in front of all those people and pretend I’m him. I can’t fill his shoes.” She rubbed her streaming eyes and pressed a hand to her still-queasy stomach. “I can’t do it. Especially when I don’t know if—”

  “You listen to me, Jasmine, and you listen good. I’m not your Romeo, sweetheart, and I don’t give a shit if you cry your pretty little eyes out before and after that concert. But you will get up there and you will play your ass off, like I know you can.” Nick’s eyes glittered as he loomed over her. “If I have to carry you onstage and put the guitar in your goddamned hands myself, I will.”

  Her chin wobbled as she swiped away her tears. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Shocked into silence, she stared at the floor.

  “Get up.”

  Her lack of response made him grunt. “Want me to dress you as if you’re a little girl? Because I will. I’ve seen everything you have under that sheet and I guarantee I won’t mind seeing it again.”

  Affronted, she hauled her sheet in tighter around her. She was trembling and nauseous and bleary-eyed and didn’t give a crap what Nick expected her to do. Not until she knew Gray was okay.

  God, he had to be okay. There was simply no other choice.

  When she didn’t move, Nick held out his hand. “C’mon. You’re better than this. What would he think if he saw you this way?”

  “He’d want to protect me.” That only made her chin quiver harder.

  “Yeah. But he’s the one who needs protecting now. You and I are what’s keeping him in this band. And when he comes back, he’ll want his spot back. Won’t he?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes.” She glanced up at Nick and fought to catch her breath. Another sob was building in her chest, and God, she was so tired of crying. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he?”

  “He has to.” He crouched before her again. “He has everything in the world going for him.”

  She shut her eyes at the renewed fists of pain pummeling her stomach. Only sheer will kept her from bolting into the bathroom to throw up.

  “He told me he was going to propose to you.” When she only shuddered, he gripped her hands, holding them tight. “The guy fucking adores you. I saw it all over him yesterday.”

  Sniffling, she nodded.

  “Help me get through the show tonight, all right? I’ll get someone to cover the drums and you and I will make it so no one notices he’s gone.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “Look at me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. You’re disappointed in me for falling apart, and I don’t blame you. But you don’t understand what he is to me. If he’s not there—” She couldn’t finish.

  “Look at me.”

  Eyes streaming, she looked. And found more compassion than she’d ever expected staring back at her.

  “We’ll get through tonight together,” he said gently, rubbing her knuckles. “I’ll help you, and you’ll help me. Just like you did during those shows last year—” He broke off at her gasp and swore. “Christ, not like that. You’re an engaged woman now. I don’t fucking poach.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. Saying nothing, she turned her hand over and lightly gripped his fingers before nudging him back so she could get to her feet. “Make your calls,” she said in a voice that shook. It couldn’t be helped. At least she was talking without crying. “I’ll get dressed and be right out.”

  “Okay.” He walked to the doorway and picked up her phone. He swiped his thumb over it before handing it back to her. “Still works.”

  She glanced at her background picture, a photo from years ago of her and Gray in San Francisco. They’d made so many plans last night in between rounds of making love.

  Ones she refused to give up on without a fucking fight. But first she had to know exactly what she was dealing with. Turning her back on reality wouldn’t work anymore, not if she wanted to save the man she loved.

  “Tell me how long you’ve known.”

  “Known what?”

  She set her jaw and met Nick’s gaze. “You know what. Tell me how long you’ve known he’s using.”

  His hesitation didn’t last long. “Since last spring. The day after that clusterfuck threesome, he dropped a baggie in the studio. I called him on his shit and he said he was holding it for a friend.”

  “And you believed him.”

  “No, I didn’t fucking believe him. But what was I supposed to do about it? The night before, you called out his goddamn name while I was inside you. I didn’t want to be part of it anymore.”

  Shame heated her already scalding cheeks. “So you washed your hands of it.”

  “Maybe I did. It wasn’t my problem. I warned him what he was risking, but fuck, Jazz, I’d just told him he could have you, that I wouldn’t interfere. Everyone thinks I’m a bastard anyway, so why not play my part?”

  “Because you’re not a bastard. A bastard wouldn’t have just sat with me while I cried. You wouldn’t care if we saved a spot for him. You’d be hoping like hell he got thrown out.”

  “Yeah, so maybe I like the guy now, all right? Maybe I get it finally, that what’s between the two of you had nothing to do with me. And so I’m not going to fucking cry in my milk and wish for him to get what he deserves. Because maybe he really does deserve you, more than I ever did.”

  She walked over to him and cupped his face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He gripped her hands for a second before letting go and stepping back. “Get dressed so we can practice.” Without waiting for her to reply, he pulled the door shut behind him.

  She still hadn’t moved when she heard his voice on the phone.

  “Ricki, I need your help.”

  Thirty-Five

  Then

  “Happy birthday, Jazzy.”

  She turned at the slurred voice behind her, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of Brent in her bedroom doorway, his tie half undone and his jacket gaping open. He’d dressed up for the sweet sixteen party the Duffys had organized for her, but he was already half in the bag.

  Didn’t anyone notice? Or maybe it didn’t matter. He worked now, and Mrs. Duffy treated him like an adult. It wasn’t any big thing if he wanted to have a few drinks to unwind after he returned from his shift.

  “Hi. Thanks.” She tried to smile but the gesture fell short.

  Nothing new when it came to dealing with Brent.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned back to her dresser. Tonight she would get to wear the aquamarine dangle earrings Mrs. Duffy had given her for an early birthday gift.

  “I heard you singing, baby. What song was that?”

  Ick, she hated when he called her baby. It made her skin prickle as if she’d gotten too much sun. When Gray used the same term, she loved it. That probably wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t deny her natural reaction. God knows she’d tried a million times.

  “Elvis. Hey, is everyone here yet?” At the tickle between her shoulder blades, she turned, not feeling comfortable with him behind her. He’d moved up close—too close—and she bumped into the dresser, sending a few of her perfume bottles
tumbling to the floor. She gasped and bent to see if the bottles broke, only to have Brent seize hold of her arm and tug her to her feet. “Hey, what are you—”

  “Stupid slut. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He twisted her arm and forced her backward until she fell onto her bed. “Fucking tease. He thinks you want him. We’ll see about that.”

  Panic spurted inside her, drowning out any logic she had left. She couldn’t think straight when he was looming over her, the bottle in one hand and his other on his buckle.

  Oh God, he was undoing his belt.

  “Brent, no.” She scrambled backward on the mattress and he grabbed her ankle, yanking her forward while she flailed and kicked. “Stop it, Brent! You got the wrong idea. I don’t know what you mean—”

  “Cunt. Stop your shit. I’m going to prove to him that you’re not the sweet little bitch he thinks you are. I know you’re not innocent. I hear you in here, fucking that Daniels kid.” He moved to unzip his zipper and she went still, shock taking over.

  This couldn’t be happening. She’d finally found her perfect home with the perfect family. The Duffys were going to adopt her, she knew they would. All she had to do was stay still and take it, just not make a sound so they would never know what she’d let him do.

  He was right, just like her mother had said. She was a slut. Always tempting the men. First Jacob, now Brent. She deserved this, and if she accepted it without making too much of a fuss, it didn’t have to ruin anything. She could still become a Duffy. Gray didn’t ever have to know either.

  She’d never have to see the disgust in his eyes if she just stayed quiet.

  “That’s it, baby. I knew you wanted it,” Brent crooned, bracing a knee on the bed as he tugged down his jeans. At the sight of his boxer-covered erection, she choked and turned her face away, covering her chest with her arms. “Don’t hide yourself from me. Let me see those pretty tits—”

  “No. Don’t touch me. God, please, just leave me alone.” She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. She’d die first. She slapped and kicked, fighting for everything she was worth.