True Body Rock (Rockstar Romance) (The Body Rock Series Book 4) (7 page)

My seat belt was  unlocked; Sean's hand on my shoulder kept me sitting. “Lola, I know you're confused.”

“I'm not confused.”
Mostly.
There were a lot of questions running wild, jabbing at me, but I had come to a conclusion as we drove. There was one person who could tell me the truth, and chasing after other sources had given me nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

Drezden is the only one who can tell me everything.

“I—Lola, just...” Letting me go, Sean leaned back so fast his elbow banged the window. Amazingly, he didn't act like he felt it at all. “You're stuck on wanting to believe that Drezden isn't to blame for any of the crap he's pulled.” Though I listened, I never took my attention from my knees. “But even if you imagine he has 'reasons' or whatever, can't you see he's still responsible for the violence? Hitting Johnny, fighting with his father, and... and the bastard even got into a fight with me.”

My neck ached from how fast I turned to stare. “He what? When?”

Shame danced on the corners of my brother's lips. “The day you came back late, the night we played in Aspen. It got a little tense in the parking lot.”

“A little tense?”
What the hell?
“You and my boyfriend fought and neither of you told me! Why would you hide that?” The unspoken words were there; why hide that if he was trying to convince me Drezden was dangerous?

Sean flicked his gaze at me, then away, all too fast.

Pinpricks of heat traveled up my neck. “You didn't tell me because you started it, didn't you?” My brother was unmoving, staring blankly into the distance. “Sean. Sean, that's it, isn't it? Why else would you not—”

“Yeah! Fine!” His fist came down, hitting the wheel with a thud. “I thought you were hurt, or worse! Your shitty boyfriend was more than happy to be in that scuffle though, trust me on that.” He was no longer avoiding my glare, but the rage in his face didn't make me shy away.

I was pissed off, too.

“If you want me to listen to the shit you're saying, Sean... don't try to dodge around the facts. You're a fucking hypocrite. Tell me why you've been doing this. Why are you so obsessed with making Drezden into a monster?” Nothing in me moved. I didn't breathe, I even wondered if my blood had gone still. I wanted Sean to say something—anything—to justify his actions.

A flicker of pain bloomed in his stare. “I need to go pick up Caleb.” Hanging his chin to his chest, my brother shut away the hurt.

I'd felt that fragment of distress and shame in the most vulnerable part of my core. Hiding it now wouldn't erase the moment. “Please, Sean. Why is this all so important to you? It's not even about
me
anymore... is it?”

“Of course it's about you.” His voice was weak, unconvincing. “It's always been about you.”

My body moved in a rush, folding across the middle of the van, encasing my brother in a hug before either of us could react.
Has it always been about me?
His claim was a cry for help, but I wondered if he realized. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled against his shoulder. “Sean, I'm really just—I'm sorry.”

“Lola? What the hell?” His body was tense, but he gave in like it was muscle memory. The times he'd hugged me, protected me, it flooded back into both of us. I
felt
the barrier cracking in a sudden shatter. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I don't know,” I sniffled, wiping at my eyes.

“Why are you
crying?
”

“I don't know!” A hiccup choked me, broke my sudden tears and turned them to uneasy laughter.

Sean's arm crushed me against him, held the back of my head. He was shivering, relieved chuckles shaking free from him, too. “You're ridiculous.”

“You're worse than that.”

Rubbing my shoulder blades, he breathed out loudly. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

We sat in the car, listening to the rain. It reminded me of standing under an umbrella while Sean warned me about Drezden. Clarity rolled up my spine. “It was about Drezden, not me. You've been angry at him for so long, haven't you?”

Gingerly, my brother eased me off of him. His blue eyes were rimmed in red; I noticed the spider-veins crawling in the whites. How long had those been there? “Drezden messed with my head—with everything—that day.”

That day.
He didn't have to say it. Sean was talking about the audition. “Tell me what happened.”

“It wasn't even—lord, I don't know. It's hard to explain.”

Reaching for his hands, I cupped them. “Just try, I want to know.”

His face was pale in the shadows. “I drove all the way upstate when I heard there was an audition. I'd heard of the band back then—they were called Nothing Forsaken, before their manager signed them and everything.” Sean flexed his fingers in his lap, frowning. “I showed up, and Lola... I played my god damn heart out. I was—” He cut himself off with a bark of cold laughter. “I was so sure I had the position. I was so stoked, how could I
not
be picked?”

A roll of thunder outside shook the sky. I was too focused on Sean to react. “And?”

Closing his fists, my brother gave me a sad smile. “And Drezden told me to leave. I asked him why.” Gritting his teeth, he resembled a snarling dog. “The asshole told me—get this—he said he
knew my type
. Knew the kind of guy I was! He said some bullshit like, 'someone who thinks they're owed the world, who gets angry and bitter when things aren't handed to them... someone like that doesn't have what it takes.'”

My mouth was hanging open. Not because of what Drezden had told my brother, but because Sean remembered every last word of that sentence.
He's been going over that in his head for years. Reliving that day. Holy shit.

“He asked me something, too,” Sean muttered hotly.

My throat felt parched. “What was it?”

Sapphire eyes looked through the front window. They stared into the past, seeing a fateful day instead of the innocuous rain. “He asked me, 'what makes a good guitarist?'”

The hairs on my body stood on end so tight, it hurt me.
I was asked the same question.
“What did you answer?” I asked eagerly, my curiosity turning my stomach in knots.

He fell back in his seat, arching his neck and watching the ceiling. “Talent. I told him that talent was what made a good guitarist.”

My heart was stuffing itself into my throat. “What did
he
say?”

There, the crooked, cynical smile I knew so well. “He told me I was wrong. He responded, quite eloquently, 'fuck off.' So I kicked over his amp, and then I left.”

The pounding in my skull wouldn't stop.
That's what this was all about. A grudge, a several years long grudge.
Drezden had called it. I remembered the night we'd had dinner, my first night spending time with Headstones.
Drezden asked me if my brother was still pissed about what had happened. Brenda told him to stop worrying.

Drezden was right all along.

The revelation was too much for me. “You held onto the hate this entire time. Why would you tell me to audition for Four and a Half Headstones if you hated Drezden so much?”

“Because I care about you more,” he said flatly, eyebrows crawling high. “Because I still wanted you to make it big. I guess I just wasn't as good at watching it all happen right in my face.”

Wiping my nose with my sleeve, I debated on my next comment. “When you asked me to join your band, you just wanted to throw Drezden under the bus. It wasn't about bringing me on so we could play together and make it to the top... it was about watching him lose.”

My brother was shaking his head before I finished. “No, no! Fuck, no, Lola. Yeah, okay, a big part of me wanted Drezden to fall apart after... after what he said to me. After what he made me feel about myself, my skills.” His lips pulled back, low and twisted. “But I did want to see us both make it to the top.”

“I'm already at the top,” I whispered cynically.

“I know.” His hand clasped on my shoulder, that smile brittle as porcelain. “I wanted to feel what it was like, too.”

Tears threatened to bubble back up; I pushed them down with a deep breath. “Promise me you won't give up your dream. We can both still be big rockstars... together. Okay?”

“Okay.” That time, it was Sean who started the hug. I wanted it to go on forever, for the two of us to feel the waves of love and joy that had been missing for far too long. This was my big brother, the guy who had taught me everything, been through so much with me—and for me. I wanted him to be happy... I'd thought I'd known where his pain and struggle came from...

But now I actually understood.

“If you want me to make it big,” he said gently, “I'll need to go get my singer out of jail. We've kind of been making him sit there this whole time.”

Our grins matched as we pulled apart. “Okay. Go get him out of there. I'll talk to you soon.” Folding my hood over my skull tightly, I climbed out into the rain. “Good luck!”

“I'll need it,” he chuckled, waving at me until I splashed all the way into the main lobby of the hotel. I was in a whirl of good cheer, ignoring the busy crowd, the number of people flocking the hotel who were no doubt in the city for the big show.

The woman behind the desk didn't bat an eye when I gave her my name. She handed me the keycard for my room, made a note, that was that.
I can't wait to see everyone.
My feet were stuck in full out skipping mode as I rode the elevator up to my room.
I should have brought my clothes with me, though. I'll need to go back to the bus tonight for something dry... and for my guitar.

I didn't care that I was damp.

Things were finally clearing up between me and the people I loved.

Fiddling with the door in the long, quiet hallway, I hummed to myself. The song I'd been writing with Drezden was catchy, the tune undulating in my chest and traveling to my brain. Stumbling into my room, I slammed the door and gazed on the place that I had to myself.

I wonder where the others are, where there rooms are?

My tangent of a thought was halted by the brisk knock on my door. Startled, I spun around, still caught up in my warm high of emotions. Gripping the handle, I tugged the door open wide, half expecting to see Drezden himself.

Wet, pallid and gaunt from hard times, the man outside was not my boyfriend.

“Hey,” Johnny Muse said, eyes jittery in the orange lights. “Sorry to bother you so soon, but I just—I was thinking about earlier—about what I had said—and I wanted to clarify a few things.”

Gawking openly, paralyzed by surprise, I fought for words.
What the hell is this?
Had Johnny followed me to the hotel? There was no other explanation.

He looked both ways, ducking low and shoving himself into my room. “Hey, wait,” I said, backing up to keep space between us. “You shouldn't be—”

“It's just really,
really
important that I explain everything better! You know?” The door clicked behind him, his hoodie casting sharp shadows on his thin face. He no longer stared anywhere but right at me, an awful hunger deep in his faded emerald eyes. “Okay, so yeah, I got the impression you didn't believe everything earlier. I can't—like, handling that is hard for me. Got it?”

The back of my heel hit the edge of the bed. “Johnny, you need to leave.”

“I will, I will!” Ruffling his hair, then palming his Adam's apple, he frowned. “Just listen. Please. The thing about the graveyard, okay, so I said Drezden went a little nuts. Maybe I said crazy? He
was
over the top, and he
did
push me down, but okay so he didn't like, pummel me or anything.”

Shaking my head slowly, I felt for my phone in my pocket. The budding seed of danger had become a full on rose with thorns. “Sure. Fine. You still need to go.”

His face fell limp. “You don't believe me about him, do you?”

“I—it doesn't matter if I do.”

“No!” His brows curled like snakes. “I really, really need you to believe me. You've got to see that he's a psycho, you need to—to leave the band. Okay? Okay, got that?”

He came here to tell me a more toned down version his story.
I might have believed the new version, if he hadn't told me the extreme one first.
Or if he hadn't stalked me here and shoved his way into my room. Fuck.
This was bad. “Yes, okay. I'll do that.” My legs inched me sideways, trying to get around him towards the exit.

Johnny held his face, pulling his skin down in exasperation. “You really don't believe me! God dammit!” Too fast for me to react, he snatched my shoulders, shook me till my teeth rattled. “Why won't you believe me!? You
need to believe me!
”

That was it, my self preservation kicked in. Shoving at his chest, his forearms, I hurried to disengage. Opening my mouth, I got out a partial scream. A single fist to my skull ended it, stunning me so much I simply toppled to the floor.

Carpet nuzzled my cheek.
I need to move!
Above me, through the bells whistling in my ears, I heard Johnny talking.
Run, fight, anything!
His shadow fell over me. I couldn't make sense of his words, but there was a panicked, apologetic smear in them that made me
furious
.

Run. Fight. Save yourself.

The memory of the bullies shattering my first guitar drilled into my head.

Fight.

“Shit, shit, what do I do? I didn't mean—” Johnny's tirade ended, my knuckles scraping along his cheekbone. “What the
fuck!
” Cupping his skin, he made a grab for me. That was fine; I let him, pulling him down onto me and kneeing him in the guts.

I won't let anyone bully me again.

My nails cut his forehead, blood caked underneath.

I'm not a victim anymore.

Never again.

He let me go, hugging himself, coughing. I was on my feet, rushing for the door. I wanted to escape, to break away from this living chaos ruining everything.

Johnny Muse wasn't ready to abandon me.

Long fingers tangled in my hair, throwing me backwards. Off balance, I spun sideways, disoriented.
Run run run!
My temple slammed into the wide-screen TV, toppling it—and me—to the ground. Lifting my eyes, wanting to see where my attacker was, I felt his fingers on the front of my shirt.