by Cherrie Lynn
He didn’t know what that precious woman had done to him, and he didn’t necessarily like it. But he couldn’t find any anger toward her over it. Where she lived in his heart, there was only peace and reverence. There was no room for anything ugly where her light resided in him.
His band flew in a few days before the San Diego date, assembling for a couple of rehearsals before their last run. All the guys seemed subdued, especially Quin, who showed up straight and ready to work, but would never quite meet Elijah’s eyes nor speak to him unless he absolutely had to. And Eli made damn sure that he absolutely had to, if only to be an asshole. Because he was pretty sure he knew who the mole had been.
Quin and Heidi had never liked one another, true, but given the tension between Eli and his guitarist lately, Quin might have liked Eli a little less. Enough to pull the most dickish move in the history of their relationship, though? It was saying a lot, when he really thought back on that history.
Yeah, Quin was totally capable of doing it, no doubt. The more Eli forced interaction between them, the more he became sure of it. But he waited, biding his time, until he could catch Quin as he was leaving, heading to his waiting car in the balmy evening air.
“I want to know why you’re such a fucking asshole, Quin. Do we need to knock the living shit out of each other to get this out, or what?”
Quin turned and stared at him with dead eyes. He wasn’t high right now, Elijah didn’t think, but it probably hadn’t been long.
“I mean, I think we’re too old for that high school shit,” Eli went on, “but I’m game if you are.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why, man? Heidi said you told her about Iris and me. Sent her pictures and everything. What would you even do that for? What was in it for you?”
He saw the look of horror come over Quin’s face and wanted to laugh. The guy was too easy. “She— I didn’t—”
“You did. Don’t bother trying to deny it. She showed me the pictures.” It was a long shot, but damn if it didn’t work. The son of a bitch was shaking.
“That bitch!” Quin roared.
“That’s the mother of my children, Quin, so I’d watch my fucking mouth if I were you.”
Elijah’s mother had told him many years ago that when he was angry, truly angry, he had the devil in his eyes. Quin must have seen some fire and brimstone now, because he took a step back. Still, it didn’t stop him from saying something stupid. “They’re not yours, though, are they?”
I know this motherfucker just didn’t. So much for being too old for high school bullshit. Eli had cracked the blow across Quin’s jaw almost before he realized it, but the pain ringing through his knuckles felt fucking fantastic. Quin hit the ground, and suddenly the rest of the guys were there, Jason and Travis grabbing Elijah while Russell tried to keep Quin from surging upward. They needn’t have bothered. All Eli had wanted was that one beautiful hit, and Quin seemed content to sit on the pavement and bleed, rubbing his jaw.
“Are you done?” Jason demanded as Eli threw his hands off.
“I’m done. Question is, are you?” Eli glared at Quin as he said it, knowing he wouldn’t mistake his meaning.
“I’m not going anywhere, asshole.”
“Then stay out of my goddamn way and my goddamn business, Quin. Because you’ve really fucked shit up for me this time. Just because you’re miserable and pissed off at the world doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be. Things could be a lot worse for you, you know. If you don’t lay down the shit and get your head clear, they’re going to be. That’s a promise.”
“I don’t need any preaching from you.”
All this time, Jason had kept a tentative hand on Eli’s shoulder, as if expecting him to break loose and dive on Quin at any moment. He shrugged it off. “After our last show, you’re checking into rehab or you’re out. That’s an ultimatum. We can’t make you get help, but we can boot your ass if you don’t. You’re a different person when you’re on that shit, and not one that any of us want to be around. So that’s it. Take it or walk away now. There are any number of guys who would love to step in and take your place.”
He glanced around for support and was utterly grateful when he saw he was getting it. Jason was nodding. Travis too. Russell leaned down and shoved his hands under Quin’s arms, pulling him to his feet. “I can get behind that, dude,” Russell told him as he steadied him. Of them all, he was probably closest to Quin, or at least had the least amount of problem with him. “And it’s because we love you or we’d just send you walking.”
Well, loving him was pushing it, but Eli held his tongue. Surrounded by them all, Quin looked like a deer in headlights, but the fight had gone out of him. Facing the very real possibility of losing his band had shaken him. “What do you say?” Eli asked. “Are you with us or not? Tell us now.”
“All right,” Quin snapped. “I’ll fucking do it.”
“You’re also going to apologize to Iris, if I can ever get her to show her face again.”
Quin shuffled his feet and huffed and tilted his head back, gazing with long-suffering resignation up at the sky before biting out, “Yeah. Whatever.”
“Then we’re good. See you tomorrow.”
They watched him walk to his ride, where the driver had just gotten an eyeful, and most likely some very interesting video footage. It would probably be all over the fansites in a couple of hours, and rumors of their imminent demise would inevitably circulate. Oh well. It wouldn’t be the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last.
If he was gonna stir up controversy, he might as well go all out.
Forty-two
Iris hung up her phone and exhaled a deep, relieved breath. An interview offer. Not a job offer yet, but she was hopeful. Next week she would meet the mother and kids, a seven-year-old girl and two-year-old boy. She had received the distinct impression from the mom’s enthusiasm over her qualifications that if all went well, she was in. If Heidi came through on her recommendation, anyway.
And she found she was excited. Maybe for the first time since stepping off the plane what felt like forever ago. Surely it was a sign. Tonight was the Ruin concert, and Sara had not stopped bugging her about it.
Her childhood experiences had soured her against religion, but she had to admit, over the last couple of weeks, she’d prayed to whomever might be listening for a sign of some kind. Should she stay alone and make her own way? She should run back to Elijah and throw caution to the wind? Her heart begged her to do the latter. Her head begged her to do the former.
Everyone said to follow your heart in all things. But the heart wasn’t the smartest organ. It had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Well . . . her heart and other areas.
And now she had a real prospect, one that most likely wouldn’t exist well alongside any life she might create with Elijah Vance. If she were with him, he would consume her whole. There was no question.
She had asked for a sign, and she felt she’d gotten it.
But that didn’t stop Sara from showing up at her door at six o’clock, armed with what looked like a suitcase full of cosmetics. “Sara,” Iris groaned. “I’m not letting you in.”
“Yes you are. You can’t stop me. I’m bigger than you.” As if to prove it, Sara shoved her way past Iris and into her apartment. She was already dressed and ready to rock, wearing shredded jeans and a loose, slouchy shirt that barely hung onto her shoulders. Her hair was styled in big, lazy curls. She looked fabulous, while Iris was in sweats rocking three-day-old hair.
“I have a job interview.”
Sara set her makeup down and cocked a perfect brow at her attire. “Tonight?”
“Next week.”
“Um . . . so?”
“Thanks for the show of enthusiasm, friend.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Sara clapped her hands and jumped up and down in a ridiculous exaggeration of excitement. “Yay! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you. Now let’s go celebrate.”
/>
“You are nothing if not persistent.”
“Nothing is standing between me and Elijah Vance tonight, honey. So haul your cute ass into the shower.”
Iris smirked. “If nothing is standing between you two, then you should be just fine without me.”
“You have a point, but it isn’t going to work.”
“Sara, you aren’t going to shower me, dress me and throw me in your car against my will.”
Sara propped her hands on her waist, giving Iris her best glare of challenge. “Wanna try me?”
For the first time, confronted with the possibilities of the night, real panic began to flutter up into her chest. Elijah Vance. Whenever Sara said his name, a jolt went through her, as if the mere syllables had a power of their own. “I can’t, Sara. I can’t go.”
Sara frowned, taking a couple steps forward as she began to notice Iris’s distress. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I want to. What’s the matter? I get wanting to sit around all night and mope, but . . . you look terrified. I mean, it’s not that scary, you know? It’s only music. And several thousand crazy people, but in my experience everyone is pretty good about looking out for each other.”
Iris found herself wanting to laugh. Actually, she was amazed that Sara, as astute as she was, hadn’t put all the pieces together in her devious little head and figured out Iris’s mystery man was the very one she wanted to drool over all night.
All of a sudden she wanted to spill the whole story, knowing that Sara would be like a vault, but honor dictated she keep her mouth shut. She’d done enough to bring shame down on herself these last two months.
Funny how things worked out. When the tour started—it seemed like forever ago—she’d only wanted to go back home. Now she was here and miserable.
Sara was still waiting for her answer. Iris stared at her friend for a moment and realized the best way to get her off her case was to placate her.
“All right,” she said with a sigh, turning for the bathroom. “I’ll go.”
THE LINE TO GET INTO the arena stretched on for what seemed like miles.
Iris had never been on this side of things. The fan excitement, the girls trilling over the band members—Elijah in particular—the guys raucous and ready to see their heroes. Cars crept by seeking a parking space, blaring the songs Iris had become familiar with over the past two months, Eli’s voice doing things to her deep in her belly.
Sara bounced excitedly next to her, flirting, laughing, having a great time even before the doors opened.
Iris only kept staring at the will-call windows up ahead.
Where she might have a AAA pass waiting for her. One little laminate that could be a key to . . . she didn’t know what. And that was the problem.
Every shiny, sinister black SUV that pulled around back in the direction of the loading docks caught her eye, because any one of them might carry Elijah. He probably wouldn’t still be on the bus; this was home turf. She remembered the schedule. They would have already completed sound check long ago.
She drew a deep breath of the summer evening air, wishing it could help calm her stuttering heart, but there was nothing for it. This had been a terrible mistake, she knew that.
“Are you okay? You look pale,” Sara said, drawing her attention back.
“I’m fine.”
“You look amazing, if I do say so myself.”
“Thanks to you.” Sara had actually taken a pair of Iris’s jeans and shredded them. She hadn’t protested, but she felt self-conscious standing out here with a fair amount of leg showing and a skimpy top Sara had brought because she thought it would look great on her. It did, but it wasn’t Iris’s style. Once satisfied with what she was wearing, Sara had set about giving her blue eyes a smoky treatment that made them smolder in a way she’d never seen before.
Or maybe it was the memories giving her that dreamy, sultry expression. They had never been far from her mind, but they’d all come rushing back in abundance at the thought of being here tonight. Of seeing him, hearing his voice, remembering what it had sounded like in her ear.
It didn’t help that Sara struck up a conversation with the girls behind them, talking about that very thing.
“You know how he sounds at the end of ‘Let Them Lie’? I swear to God he had an orgasm when he was singing that,” the blue-haired girl was saying as she gave a full-body shudder.
Sara shared the girl’s enthusiasm. “Oh! Hell yes. I love that song for that very reason. I’ve always said if I were with him, I’d make him mad just so he would yell at me.”
The girls broke up in laughter. Iris decided she could go hide in the bathroom for the night, feigning sudden sickness. But that would leave Sara on her own. It would serve her right for subjecting her to this.
“I can’t believe Heidi was such a slut. Who would cheat on that man?”
“For real, for real. I’d kiss him and make it better.”
“I’d blow him and make it better.”
More laughter. Iris closed her eyes. She might not have to feign sudden sickness. She might throw up right here, right now.
“—like he’d just grab your hair, slam you against a wall, and fuck your fucking brains out—”
Her voice tore its way from her throat at last. “Sara, I need to . . . go do something. I’ll be right back. Save my spot.”
Sara blinked at her, torn from her bawdy conversation. “What do you have to do?”
“Something. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back.”
“You’re acting really weird, you know.”
“She probably needs to go rub one off after all the shit we’ve been talking,” the blue-hair girl said with a laugh. “I know I do, hell.”
Iris walked away without another word. It should be harmless girl talk, but it wasn’t. Not to her. He was a person and he was a father. He’d been through real pain and all roughly half his audience cared about was getting into his pants.
There were a few people in front of her at the will-call window, but when she looked back at the gate line, she was relieved to realize that Sara probably couldn’t see her from where she stood with her new friends. Sighing, she surveyed the colorful characters around her, most of them heavily inked, dressed in black, some of the girls in shorts and torn fishnets, some of the guys wearing chains and piercings. Then again, several of them looked like soccer parents, probably a testament to the band’s longevity. Their first generation of fans had grown up.
“Next?” the college-age girl behind the window said, and Iris stepped forward.
“I should have a pass waiting? Iris Silverman.”
While she checked whatever she needed to check, Iris scrolled through her text messages. Elijah had stayed true to his word; he hadn’t contacted her. Their last messages to each other were sliding further and further down her list as time passed, a fact that made her sad.
“I don’t have you down.”
The girl’s bored voice snatched Iris’s attention upward. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“Um . . . can you look again?”
“I checked twice already.”
“This is where I’d pick it up, right?”
“Probably. You could check with security, I guess. Who was supposed to leave you a pass?”
Iris stepped closer and dropped her voice. “Elijah Vance.”
The blonde’s expression became one of yeah-suuuure-he-was sympathy. Iris felt her face flame. Eli was only a text away. She could get it straightened in a heartbeat. “You know what, never mind. Thanks.” For nothing, she finished silently, walking back toward the line as she heard the booth worker call for the next person with far more amusement than she’d had a moment ago.
It was a mix-up, wasn’t it? She couldn’t imagine him forgetting about it. Not this. Not if he really wanted to see her.
But what if he didn’t?
It’s a sign.
Sara looked Iris up
and down as she rejoined her in the line. “You okay?”
“I’m okay. I don’t feel very well, but I’ll manage.”
“You like look you’re about to cry. Iris, tonight is about having fun. Let your hair down, boo.”
“It’s down.”
“Your hair is as up as I’ve ever seen it, trust me.”
“I’m sorry you’ve wasted a ticket on me. I’m probably not going to be very good company tonight.”
“Oh come on. Even if you are a gigantic pain in my ass sometimes, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather waste a ticket on.”
Iris chuckled sadly, examining the hulking girth of the building against the darkening sky. He’s in there, she thought. She felt as nervous as she’d been the first time she’d pulled up to the arena in Portland, afraid he wouldn’t let her in, that he would take his boys and send her away. But he hadn’t. He’d kept his word to let her do her job.
She guessed she hadn’t done it very well in the end. He was in there and she was out here. What had she been thinking, anyway? One bad word from Heidi and this new opportunity would disappear like a bubble pricked by a needlepoint. Iris could only imagine the humiliation of getting that phone call.
Sorry, can’t have you screwing my kids’ dad too.
Another car crept by, Elijah’s voice roaring from the interior.
What the hell was she doing here?
HE PACED THE FLOOR, aware of Seger’s eyes on him as he went through his vocal warm-up, his mind a thousand miles away. He barely heard himself work through the scales and trills he’d done a thousand times, and there was no way to loosen the tension from his jaw no matter how much he massaged it. Tonight, he was probably going to suck. He kept waiting for a knock at his dressing room door, but it hadn’t come yet.
Elijah had begun to accept the fact that it wasn’t going to.
Goddammit. He shouldn’t have given up. He shouldn’t have given her time to think her way out of this, but if she came, he wanted it to be her decision and not because he’d been a creepy stalking bastard. He didn’t want it to be because he’d strong-armed her. But he could have put forth a little more effort. Leaving her alone with her guilt and her sadness obviously hadn’t been the way to go.