Reckless Invitation (The Reckless Rockstar Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “Stop. We’ve done five miles already, and I want to talk about this.”

  I slow to a walk and turn in the direction of home. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Why aren’t you sure you can do it? Are you scared of what people will think?”

  “Of course I’m scared, El. You think I want people knowing what a freak I am?”

  “Please stop calling yourself that. You’re stronger than he is and a far better man.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me at all.”

  She grabs my hand. “You’re not being fair. I do know you, Liam. I love you. You may not want to hear it, but it’s true. I wouldn’t want you to do anything that could hurt you. But you need closure. Releasing the video might be how you get it.”

  “It’s not. I know how I can get closure.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

  She eyes me suspiciously. “Something’s going on with you.”

  “Something is going on.” I pull away from her. “My band is falling apart, my uncle is fucking my label rep, and my goddamn girlfriend won’t leave me the hell alone about the video.”

  “You want your girlfriend to leave you alone? No problem.”

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Ella

  He didn’t come after me yesterday like I thought he would. Bria called to ask if I knew why he was moping around the apartment. I found little solace in that. I’d rather he was with me, working through whatever it is together.

  I debated not going to their show at the club tonight, but Bria talked me into it. “You can’t give up that easily on a man like Liam,” she said.

  I’m not giving up on him. Giving him space maybe, but not giving up.

  I had to go. I haven’t missed a performance since that first night in Florida. Sometimes I miss the flurry of activity we experienced when they were on tour. Part of me is excited at the possibility of doing it all again. Only this time, they will practically be a household name.

  I want to see him, make sure he’s okay. Make sure we’re okay.

  “You go get a table,” I tell Jenn. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Tell the hottie I said hello!” she shouts as I walk away.

  I find the door I think leads backstage. It’s locked. I knock a few times but realize it may be too loud out front for anyone to hear me. I’m about to give up when it opens. A big guy stares me down. “This area is closed to bar patrons.” He points to the sign on the door. “You can read, I assume.”

  “I’m looking for Liam Campbell. He plays guitar for Reckless Alibi.”

  “And you are?”

  “Can you tell him Mrs. Campbell wants to speak with him?”

  He gives me a dismissive glance and closes the door. I contemplate texting Liam, but before I get my phone out, he appears.

  He’s surprised to see me. “You’re here.”

  “I wanted to see you before your set.”

  He lets me back and leans against the wall, thrusting his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I thought we were over.”

  “Liam, I walked away because you said something hurtful, not because I wanted us to be over.”

  He looks at me sideways.

  “You really don’t know how to do this, do you?”

  “Do what?”

  “Have a relationship.”

  “I told you, I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

  “Having a fight doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Couples fight. Then they make up.”

  “But you didn’t make up with Corey.”

  “That wasn’t a fight. He cheated. Are you cheating on me?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because cheating is the only thing you could do to make me leave for good.”

  He steps toward me and traps me against the wall. “I really thought you were gone.”

  “You could have called.”

  “You could have called.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  Someone clears their throat. “You’re on in ten,” Jeremy says.

  Liam lifts his chin. “Give me a minute.”

  I stand on my toes and give him a peck on the lips.

  “So we’re good?” he asks, his hand lingering on the curve of my neck.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I come over after? I think I like the idea of making up.”

  I bite my lip and nod.

  “Jesus, El. You can’t do that right before I have to play.”

  I giggle.

  “Where are you sitting?”

  “I’m not sure. Jenn went to get a table.”

  “I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.”

  I give his hand a squeeze. “I’ll always find you too.”

  He puts his lips to mine. “Promise?”

  I smile. “I thought you didn’t like promises.”

  “A guy can change his mind.”

  “Then, yes, I promise. Now give us an amazing show.”

  I start for the door, but he pulls me back and kisses me. He more than kisses me—he claims me, ruining me for anyone else.

  When I find Jenn, she says with a smirk, “Quickie backstage?”

  “Better.”

  “What’s better than a quickie with the hottie?”

  I take a selfie of Jenn and me and send it to Krista.

  “She’s going to be so pissed she had to work tonight,” Jenn says.

  “It’s not as if she’ll never see them. Don’t you ever get bored being dragged along to watch their shows?”

  She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Bored? I’m waiting for Garrett Young to ask me out.”

  “You don’t want to go out with him. He’s not boyfriend material.”

  “Who said anything about a boyfriend? I want to know what those tattoos taste like.”

  “Ew.”

  The waitress delivers our drinks, and I raise my glass. “To Reckless Alibi.”

  A man bumps into our table, spilling Jenn’s drink. “Sorry, miss. I’ll replace it. What was it?”

  Jenn and I sneak a peek at each other. No way is this old guy getting her a drink. He must be twice our age, and he looks creepy with his baseball cap pulled low.

  She says, “I’m good.”

  “I insist.”

  “And I said I’m not thirsty.”

  He gestures to the stage. “Have you seen this band before?”

  “We have,” I say.

  “Are they any good?”

  “They’re the best.”

  “You have an empty seat. Can I join you?”

  I put my hand on it. “Sorry, it’s saved for our friend.”

  “Maybe I’ll keep her seat warm until she gets here.”

  He’s really creeping me out. What kind of old man comes to a club alone? The perverted kind, that’s who. I pull the seat close to me. “Not a good idea.”

  He growls angrily. “Who made you queen of the barstools, sweetheart?”

  Jenn stands in a display of aggression. “You should leave.”

  “You heard the lady,” a deep voice says behind me. I’ve never been more relieved to see Thor.

  The man sizes him up. Is he really thinking of taking Thor on?

  “I was just looking for a place to sit.”

  “Sit somewhere else,” Thor says, getting in the guy’s face. He points to the back of the club. “Plenty of seats back there.”

  The man glares at us, pissed, and walks away. “Bitches,” he says before he’s out of earshot.

  I release a deep breath. “Thanks, Tom.”

  “Anytime, Ms. Campbell.”

  Jenn is grinning ear to ear. “Oh, the perks of dating a rock star.” She nods at Tom as he leaves. “Is he single? The guy is huge. I can only imagine what he’s like down there.”

  “That’s Thor.”

  “That’s Thor? As in the one in Florida you told us about?” She fans herself with her hand. �
�Tell him he can use his hammer on me anytime.”

  I’m laughing when the lights dim and the spotlights turn on. Reckless Alibi run out on the stage. Liam picks up his guitar and scans the room. He finds me. I put up my hand and give him the “rock on” sign. He smiles. Then I add my thumb to the sign, changing the entire meaning. He winks at me.

  Jenn sighs. “Must be nice to have a rock star in love with you.”

  “I’m not sure he is.”

  “Did you see the way he looked at you? Everyone in the club knows he’s in love with you.”

  Several people are looking at me—a few like they might want to see my head on a platter.

  The band plays, and I get lost in the music. Doesn’t matter how many times I see or hear them, my heart still pounds when they’re onstage.

  The audience sings along to the chorus when they play their most popular hard-rock song, “Sins on Sunday.” Men punch their fists in the air, chanting the words. Women dance between the tables. Fans crowd the stage, vying for the best position.

  When Crew and Bria sing a love song, Liam watches me, his attention never straying. It amazes me how he can play without looking at his guitar. He truly is the most talented person I’ve ever met. And he’s mine. At least I think he is. He wanted a promise, and I’m willing to give him anything he wants.

  During the break, I race to the bathroom. I’m standing in line when Creepy Guy walks by. He stops. “Do you know the guitar player?”

  I don’t answer.

  “He was looking at you. You his lady or something?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re lying,” he says. “Like you lied about saving the seat for a friend.”

  “Can you move please?” a lady says to him. “You’re blocking the way.”

  He continues down the hall. He made me feel dirty.

  When I come out of the bathroom, I’m super aware of my surroundings, not wanting to get cornered by the man again. I rush back to the table and tell Jenn what happened.

  She’s irritated. “After the show, we need to get Thor to walk us to a cab.”

  I laugh. “You want to get his number, don’t you?”

  She shrugs. “If it turns out I do, well so be it.” She grabs my arm and squeals. “They’re coming back on.”

  She fangirls over Reckless Alibi. It’s strange being here while women, and some men, ogle the man I love. I’m going to have to get used to it. He’s becoming a musical icon. A star. Maybe someday he’ll even be a legend. But I don’t love him for any of those reasons.

  “Oh, God,” Jenn says, looking like she swallowed a bug. “He’s back.”

  Creepy Guy has taken his hat off. At least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to bother us. He only seems interested in the band. He did ask me about Liam. Maybe he’s a talent agent or something.

  The song the band is playing sounds funny. Liam has stopped playing. The rest of the band is trying to get his attention, wondering why.

  Then everyone sees what I see. Liam is gazing at Creepy Guy in horrific disbelief. And Creepy Guy is staring back at him.

  Liam’s face turns red, and his neck is corded. He throws his guitar down and jumps off the stage, hands balled into fists, right onto Creepy Guy. He tackles him to the ground and punches him.

  “Liam!” I yell. Is he doing this because Creepy Guy was talking to me earlier?

  The crowd clears a space around them. Thor runs over and reaches for Liam. “Don’t!” Crew yells, jumping to his side. “Let him.”

  Thor holds back anyone who tries to intervene. I’m appalled by what Liam is doing to the man. Over and over, he punches him in the face. Creepy Guy is pinned to the ground, but still gets in a punch. Liam’s blood spatters all the way to my legs. “Do something!” I yell.

  Crew pulls me behind him, protecting me from the fight.

  I try to break free. “Crew, help him.”

  “He doesn’t need help,” Crew says. “Let him do this, Ella. He needs to.”

  “What?” I stand here and watch, horrified. Why is Liam beating up this man? He only talked to me. He didn’t touch me. I think of the stories Bria told me about how Crew would punch men who came close to her. Other than the guy who grabbed my boobs in Florida, I’ve never seen Liam become violent. The only time he’s ever angry is when he’s talking about— “Oh, God.” I grab Crew’s arm. “Is that Don?”

  I’m not sure if he’s surprised or relieved I know about Liam’s father. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know the answer is yes.

  Club security finally makes it through the crowd and not even Thor can keep them from breaking things up. Liam stands, his fists bloody, not taking his eyes off his dad. He lunges for him again, but is held back. Thor says something to security and then leads Liam backstage.

  Garrett, Brad, and Bria get off the stage and join us. Crew picks something up off the floor—a wallet maybe, and I wonder if Liam lost it in the scuffle.

  “Dude, what the fuck just happened?” Garrett asks. He touches my arm. “Did that asshole attack you or something?”

  I shake my head.

  He looks at Creepy Guy, who’s being helped up to his feet. “Then why did he beat the shit out of him?”

  “Only Liam can answer that question,” Crew says. “Come on, let’s make sure he’s okay.”

  Jenn tags along as we go backstage, all of us trying to process what Liam did. Thor comes up the hallway alone. “He’s gone. Took off out the back door.”

  I run to the end of the hall and throw open the door, looking up and down the street for him.

  Crew comes up behind me. “Give him time, Ella.”

  My voice cracks. “What if he’s hurt?”

  “He’s strong. He’ll be okay.”

  “But what if this is the thing that breaks him?”

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Liam

  Twelve years ago

  Molestation.

  I type it into the browser’s search field. Helen once told me what it was, but I didn’t want to believe it. For the past year, I’ve denied it could be anything as bad as she said. I’ve pretended Luke’s death was a freak accident and Dad disappeared because he was sad over losing his oldest son. I’ve blocked out any conversations I overheard that would indicate it was anything different.

  But I’m almost thirteen. I hear the way my classmates talk in the school locker room. They joke about boys touching other boys. They call them homos, faggots, and sickos.

  What I read on the screen doesn’t give me much explanation: sexual assault or abuse of a child up to the age of eighteen.

  I type in another search term. Child sexual abuse.

  What I read are terrifying, disgusting, horrible words. True words. And it one hundred percent describes what my father did to me. Why didn’t I stop him? Deep down I knew it was wrong, but he’s my dad. Is he still, I wonder?

  Victim is a frequent word on the pages. I see it over and over, and every time I read it, I feel myself becoming more of one.

  “Put down your phone,” Aunt Sylvia says. “You kids spend too much time on those silly things.”

  I put it in my pocket, not wanting her to see what I was searching. “There’s nothing else to do.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You can go swimming. It’s a beautiful day outside.”

  “I went swimming yesterday.”

  What I don’t tell her is I have to force myself to go in the pool. It’s the last place I saw Luke. Every time I’m there, I see him looking sad. I hear him telling me I’m a good brother. No way would I go in it today, on the anniversary of his death. Not one person has said anything about it either. It’s like they’ve completely forgotten him.

  “How about playing that guitar of yours? I heard you the other day. You’re getting quite good.”

  “Okay,” I say and shuffle away.

  I go to the east wing, where Helen and a few of the other servants stay. I can’t complain much though. This room is wa
y nicer than my old one, and I get my very own bathroom. Mom’s door is open. She’s sitting in a chair, watching soap operas. It’s all she ever does. Well, that and drink. She used to tell me it was soda, but I know better now. She stumbles a lot and slurs her words. She’s so thin I can see her collarbone jutting out. One day a few months ago, I said something about how skinny she was. That was the last time she ever sat by the pool with me. She hardly ever joins us for dinner anymore. When I bring her food, she throws it away.

  It’s almost like I lost her too. Helen is the one person here who seems to like me. And maybe Gus, the man who drives me to school and activities. I guess Aunt Sylvia does too, but I think she wanted kids of her own, not someone else’s. She’s nice to me, but she always seems sad.

  I’ve learned to stay out of Dirk’s way. He grumbles a lot when he sees me. Thankfully he’s not home much, and I pretty much have the run of the place. But it’s not the same without Sally. Dirk said Aunt Sylvia is allergic to dogs, so we couldn’t bring her, even though I begged and said I’d keep her in the east wing.

  I really miss Sally.

  I stop in the doorway. “Hi, Mom.”

  She holds up a finger. “Shh, this is the good part.”

  I wait in silence until a commercial break, then go in and sit on her bed. “I was going to play guitar. I’ve been learning a new song if you want to hear it.”

  “Oh, baby.” She sips her drink. “Today isn’t a good day. You understand. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”

  At least she remembers.

  “Yeah, sure.” I leave, knowing full well she’ll be passed out on the bed by nightfall.

  Helen appears. “Your friend Chris is here.”

  My eyes light up. “Can he come to my room?”

  “Of course. I think Ms. Sylvia called his mother. She worries about you, mijo. I do, too. We want you to be happy.”

  I glance at Mom’s door and know that will never be possible. I feel small moments of pleasure sometimes, fun even, but not happiness.

  When Crew comes to my room, he’s carrying a large rectangular black case. “What’s in there?”

  “My mom got it for me. It’s a keyboard.”