Avenging Us (Rocker Series Book 3) (26 page)

I rolled onto my side, drawing Beauty into my arms. I kissed the back of her head, breathing in the fresh scent of her shampoo. “Only good dreams, my love,” I whispered. My own exhaustion setting in the moment my head hit the pillow.

We slept peacefully within each other’s arms, safe from the nightmares that had been tormenting our sleep when the wails of a hungry baby woke us. “I’ll get her,” I said, throwing the covers off.

Gia sat up quickly, grabbing pillows to support her back. She held out her arms and I placed our angel in them. “There’s my hungry girl.” She cooed as I studied her face and body language, searching for any sign of hesitation or distress. She wore nothing but a genuine smile.

My instincts told me it couldn’t be this easy. There would be grief on some basic level, followed by the other stages of emotions that went with death. However, I’d deal with that if and when the time came. And pray like a motherfucker she’d let me be her emotional shadow and take some of the burden off her shoulders onto mine.

I never felt I could share the difficulties and challenges I experienced in my own life, because my life was one big contradiction. Until Gia. She understood better than anyone. Her own life was a contradiction to the one she portrayed. So I would do everything in my power to surround her with positive energy and feelings.

“You have your final fitting today? Do you want Chance to cancel?” I asked, prepared for any answer she gave. I wouldn’t blame her at all if she wasn’t up to it.

She looked up from our daughter’s face. “Why would I cancel my fitting?”

Reluctant to rehash the night before, I side-stepped the issue. “I’m good with whatever you are, babe. No pressure,” I added as I walked to the shower. “We’ll be recording here today. So if you need anything—even just a kiss—you know where to find me.”

Her eyes twinkled and a saucy smile crossed her face. “Count on that, rock star.”

Even though I was home, it was still a working day, and I was late meeting the band. The boys were already grabbing some food when I made it down the stairs.

Woody saluted me with a fresh beignet. Jake nodded and was unusually quiet while Ender sat, staring at Jessie like a love-sick pup. Chance came around the breakfast bar, handing me my coffee mug of espresso. “Morning, how is she?” he asked while the boys curiously listened in.

I took a gulp, needing the caffeine. “Oddly, she’s okay.” I paused. “For now.”

Chance chewed on that thought for a moment. “She has her final fitting. Cheri is doing it here. It just made sense with the baby and the circus behind the gates…” His words trailed off and I could hear the worry in his soft tone.

“Your fucking worrying is giving me a knot already. She knows about the fitting, and is fine. So let’s not feed this monster. Treat her the way you normally would. Please,” I said while grabbing my favorite pastry. Ever since Michael learned of my affection for beignets, he’s made them every morning. I bit into the powdery goodness with pleasure, nearly moaning as the taste hit my tongue.

Chance retreated to his office. And the boys and I got to work.

Jake and I plugged into our amps, but I was curious what his issue was. “Yo, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” He blew me off. “If there’s anything I could ever do for you or Gia…I hope you’d let me know. We’re brothers. Sometimes, I think you forget that it’s not all on you. We’re here for you, Abel,” he continued as he watched Ender text. It was almost as if he were reminding himself of something as well.

“Well, it goes both ways,” I reminded him. “Friendship isn’t a one-way street.”

“Yeah, I’m not the one who needs reminding,” he said, almost under his breath. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I had a feeling it had to do with Jessie.

He needed a distraction, which brought me to my next question. “You doing the interview with Giselle for
Rolling Stone
?”

A pained look came over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a frown. I long suspected he had feelings for her. Jake was a faithful friend, and would never cause anything that would add any conflict to the group. He was the mediator. However, I wondered what that had cost him at the end of the day…if he missed an opportunity he could have taken.

“I don’t have a choice now, do I?” He gnawed his bottom lip in silent suffering.

“We all have choices. If you don’t want to do it, just ask Woody.” We both laughed. On a good day,
we
could hardly understand him. Dave would have a meltdown at the mere suggestion, and our label would drop us.

Jake picked up his phone, murmured something, and threw it on the table. He lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke through his nose. Woody walked over, sticks in hand, and grabbed the cigarette out of Jake’s mouth, putting it to his own. “Shite will kill yer.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” Jake said, reaching into his pack and lighting another.

Ender edged into the conversation slowly. “What are you fucks going on about?” he asked, nervously playing with his brow piecing.

Jake’s stance tightened as he neared. Oh, this was going to be a fucking great day. These two assholes fighting over a woman. Threesomes were notoriously bad on a friendship. The girl almost always fell for one over the other. I’d double down that that’s exactly the problem here. It’s obvious to anyone with at least one functioning eye that Jessie and Ender have something independent of Jake. The relationship is an emotional tie that all three share, and when one severs it, it’s one big mind-fuck of emotions.

“Are we going to finish recording this album or what?” I asked impatiently. Jake grabbed his guitar and nodded. Woody clapped his drum sticks together and hit his snare. Ender pulled his strap overhead.
I guess that answers my question
.

I motioned for Dave and the boys to start the session. “Cue it up.” There was no better therapy for us than music. It calmed me, transporting me to a peaceful world, and quickly, everything seemed more simple and natural at once. I felt more relaxed and ready for whatever the day held ahead of me.

We spent the next week living and breathing this album. I wanted it to be done in time for the wedding. Maybe take some time off and spent it with my girls. That was the plan, and I already told Dave and the boys. I was the first of us to go down the road of matrimony, and despite my love for Gia, they looked at it like I was suiting up for combat…leaving for war. I wasn’t nervous one bit. I was fucking impatient.

At the end of the eighth day, we were a sweaty, gnarly mess. Woody was dying for a beer, Jake was looking to get the fuck out of here, and Ender was on his phone, tapping away. I yanked my T-shirt over my head. Fuck, I needed a shower. I was just about to text Beauty when she strolled in. “You just got here?” I captured her lips with mine, my hands already skimming along the outside of her clothes.

“Nope, I’ve been here for thirty minutes listening to my favorite band.” She smiled up at me, cupping my face in her soft hands, and it made me think of other things she could cup with them. “I have a crush on the lead singer. Totally full of himself, and hot as fuck.”

I loved that she was teasing me. It meant she was having a good day. I’ve been worried with her highs and lows. I thought after her mother’s death, there’d be an issue. Even if it were something subconscious stirring around, causing trouble in other aspects of her life. But nothing. She’s been exceptionally happy. I could only conclude her mother’s life on this earth was a burden—a reminder of the pain she held on to for so long. And with her gone, so were the shackles that held her captive. Could it be as simple as death? I hoped so.

I wrangled her up into my arms to hold her hostage. “Tell me the poser’s name. I’ll kick his ass.” She giggled and somehow the world seemed right. Her, here, this, now…all of it. I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “How did your last fitting go?”

“It was went brilliantly.” She paused, squinting at me. “Are you teasing me?” She bit her bottom lip, and my attention drew to her mouth.

Now it was my turn to squint at her. “Are
you
teasing
me
? What did I tell you about biting that lush lip of yours?”

She stepped back out of my reach, but I immediately caught her.

“Last week was your last fitting. It makes no sense to me to have two last fittings,” I questioned. Chicks made no sense to me, and what was worse, was Chance. Dude was practically twirling around these days.

“It makes perfect sense when you’re losing weight. But this was really really
really
the last fitting. The gown is officially on the premises.” Her eyes twinkled in delight. Yes, even a daft fucker like myself knew what that meant. The next time she wore that dress would be tomorrow on our wedding day. Her mouth continued to work, telling me every last detail, which I listened to intently. I enjoyed listening to her share her day with me. “Anyway, it went amazing.” She let out a long sigh. It wasn’t a sigh of relief, but a sigh of happiness—joy. That sound right there made my own heart flip-flop like a fucking pansy.

I wanted to ask how she felt about the whole situation with her mother, but the selfish man who was in love with her wanted to keep her in this moment. A moment where no one existed but the two of us.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. Can you?” She wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Abso-fucking-lutely going to be
one
of the best days of my life. ‘Bout fuckin’ time.” The next best day was the day my daughter was born. Same day Beauty’s life was spared. I wanted to make the sign of the cross over my chest every time I thought of it. I wanted to thank god for giving me my family. Not too long ago, I was walking down a different path…a path I most likely wouldn’t have survived. Fast girls, faster cars, and a never-ending supply of alcohol and drugs. This girl…her strength, courage, with all her cracks and flaws…saved me.

A knock on the studio glass snapped me out of my thoughts. Dave waved us into the control room. The boys gathered around in a semi-circle. Fuck, I’d hoped this wasn’t about a bachelor party. We’ve already been to war on this. I held the door open for her to walk ahead of me, and then continued in behind her.

“Check this shit out…” Dave raised the volume on the TV.

Morgana

“Breaking news from Los Angeles federal court: In lieu of a lengthy trail, Morgana Devu, opted for a bench trial. A bench trial takes place in front of a judge only. He is both the finder of face and ruler on all matters of law. After hearing the argument and evidence…Judge Maverick sentenced Devu to forty-two years behind bars with the possibility of parole after twenty-five for the attempted murder of Gia Mastro and her unborn child, who is the fiancée of famed Abel Gunner of Lethal Abel. Judge Maverick went on to say: ‘She was cold, calculating, and without any remorse for what she’s done. Human life held no value in her eyes, and she’s considered a danger to society.’ She continued to deny her responsibility regardless of the mountains of evidence the DA presented against her—including time-stamped documents from her own computer. When asked about the sentencing, Judge Maverick said, ‘There is a ceiling in terms of evil. Ms. Devu is
that
ceiling.’”

“Feck, look at that crazy bitch.” Woody lit a cigarette, taking a long pull. “Even on the tele she looks off.”

“Fucking aye! She finally got what she deserved.” Ender laughed. “Check out the message boards.” He scrolled down the page of his phone. “She had the balls to say she’s a citizen of the world, and the only place she’s going is Europe.”

“See?” Woody pointed to the mug shot on the screen. “Only the insane say shite like that. Feck. I’m gonna kiss my balls tonight good and hard.” We laughed, no one having a clue what the fuck that meant.

“Dude, she’s a resourceful little cunt. She’ll probably have some reality show from jail or a Lifetime movie.” Jake turned, meeting Ender’s eyes. “Anyone want in on that action?” he asked aloud, but never looked away from Ender.

“Nah, you’re probably right. Not wasting a fucking dollar on that hole. Fucking almost single-handedly took us down.”

However, it was my girl’s words we parted on. “Almost.” Gia’s words were thick with contempt. I held her closely, never taking my hands off her. There’s been a slew of bullshit slung at us, and I couldn’t help but feel I wanted to share this moment alone. The boys took turns congratulating us. It was another victory in our tumultuous love affair.

My phone buzzed with a text message from my old man.

News on Morgana
.
I wanted to tell you both in person, but the gate is a mob-scene of reporters. I’ll deal with this and see you later
.

We invited my parents to stay with us for our nuptials. They agreed happily and offered to watch our dragonfly on our wedding night. It would be the first night she’d be away from us. However, Gia reminded me she would only be on the other side of my property, a mere walk away should we decide to get her. I felt marginally better about that. But, it was my father’s unsubtle prodding and wit that got me to ultimately agree. “Go
master
your comfort zone…”