Authors: Julia London

American Diva (39 page)

BOOK: American Diva

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“How can you say that?” he exclaimed. “It’s not like he has you in chains.”

“Not physically,” she said. “But emotionally. I have all this guilt and he . . . he’s begged me to consider the impact of this on him.”

“The impact on
him
?” Jack echoed angrily. He thrust one leg into his boxers and jeans. “No one likes to lose, I get that—but he’s holding you hostage.”

“Jack, please try and understand.” She was so weary of begging everyone to understand her. “I don’t hate Lucas like you do. I feel a certain responsibility toward him, and he is
begging
me—”

“Of course he is,” Jack snapped. “He’ll try everything he’s got to keep you, but not for the reasons you think.”

“I know the reasons,” she said irritably. “I am not a naïve child. You’re right; he needs me for his career right now. But I know him better than you, and I know that he just
needs
me to make this transition.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Jack said as he thrust his second leg into the jeans. “Not a week ago, the asshole couldn’t give you the time of day, and if he did, it was to tell you how to run your life. And now suddenly he cares about you?”

“Jack—”

“No, Audrey, no
Jack
this time. You and I have something really amazing, and you know it. I didn’t want it to happen like this any more than you did, but now that it has, I can’t live off the grid, waiting for the one moment in your day you have to spare for me.”

“That’s not fair! I’m on tour!”

“And since you and I made that amazing connection, you have spent more time holding Bonner’s hand than seeing me.”

Audrey whirled away from him, feeling her insides begin to knot again. “This is not easy, Jack! Do you understand that? I didn’t set out to hurt Lucas, and I don’t find it so easy to just tell him to get lost after all these years! I can’t even remember a time I was even on my own. And there is my business to consider . . .”

“I’m not suggesting I take his place in your business—is that what you think? Is he trying to convince you that I want to
manage
you?”

“No!” she said as she struggled into her bra. “But that’s something I have to consider! I am too busy to manage my career and I need someone to do it.”

“
Bonner?
”

“No, no, no! I’m just confused about a lot of things right now.”

“Oh God—”

She suddenly whirled around and grabbed his face between her hands. “Jack, listen to me. Someone would like to see me blown to bits, Lucas can’t handle the change in our relationship, I am on a tour with three dates just added, I have to be in the studio by October, and I
love
you, Jack, I
do
, but I need to figure some things out.”

There. She’d said it. She’d said what had been rumbling around inside her the last twenty-four hours, making her ill with anxiety. The pain in Jack’s eyes was difficult to bear, but she had to say what was true.

“Okay,” he said, curling his fingers around her wrist, “I get it.” He pulled one hand from his face. “I understand,” he said softly as he pulled the other from his face.

She’d said what she needed to say, but now she panicked. She didn’t want to
lose
Jack. “No, you don’t
get it
; I can tell you don’t
get
it. I hit so high so fast, that I got lost in the spotlight. I have endorsements I don’t even know about, I have product lines for products I don’t use, I’ve signed with a major label but they don’t like my songs. I am surrounded by people I can’t trust, and I don’t know who I am anymore!”

His jaw clenched, but his eyes moved over her face as if he really was trying to understand it.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want to be with you, but only that I need a little time to think through some things.”

“What is a little time?”

Audrey blinked. She had no idea. A day? A month? A lifetime? “I . . . I don’t know,” she stammered.

He looked stunned. He nodded dumbly as he buttoned his shirt.

“Say something!” Audrey begged him.

“I can’t say I understand,” he said slowly, tucking the shirt into his jeans. “But if you want time to think, I’m not going to stop you. And I won’t lay a guilt trip on you.” He looked up again, his blue eyes swimming with hurt. “Take all the time you need.” He moved for the door, pausing to slip his feet into the sandals he’d worn.

“
Jack
,” Audrey said as he reached the door.

He turned partially and smiled thinly. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, and walked out the door.

She’d wanted alone? She just got it.

Thirty

Jack
moved through the rest of the day feeling almost as if his spirit had been left in that hotel room.

He went through the motions of security, but left the heavy lifting to Ted.

What really sucked was that Jack was so taken aback by how deeply Audrey’s decision had wounded him. It was as if he and Audrey had spent years together instead of a few weeks—the hurt felt just as deep.

But he loved her, and that, too, went remarkably deep. Part of him felt as if he would die without her. Another part of him felt like a colossal schmuck for having fallen in love with her to begin with.

He should have trusted his initial instincts; he should have stayed the hell away from her.

They had only two weeks left on the tour, and as far as Jack was concerned, that was two weeks too long. He had to distance himself from her. He couldn’t be around her and not be with her. He had to find the space where he could be himself, and not some damn dog moping around the door, wanting to be let in.

Just before show time, Jack assembled his security team and made some changes: Ted would be Audrey’s go-to guy. Jack would focus on other aspects, such as the loading and unloading of equipment. The rest of their team—five in all—would rotate through the various points of their security just as they’d been doing all along.

“You sure about this?” Ted asked, squinting curiously at Jack. “She’s not going to like it.”

“I have my reasons,” he said.

“Okay, boss,” Ted said with a shrug. “Whatever you say.”

Yeah, whatever he said. Jack left them to it, and took his new place for the show, as far from the stage as he could get. Tonight, when Audrey looked to the stage wings for him, she wouldn’t see him, she’d see Ted.

The show proved to be excruciatingly painful, even at a distance. Jack could not hear Audrey’s voice and not feel the desire bubbling up. He could not listen to the lyrics she’d written and not be moved. And perhaps it was his imagination, but he was fairly certain she had turned up the performance a notch. She seemed to sparkle more than usual, her dancing crisper, her music outstanding.

Talk about kicking a man when he was down.

When the show was over, he didn’t go to the party room like he normally did. He left that to Ted and went instead to the buses and trucks, which would leave for Dallas at 4 a.m., just as soon as the set was broken. Along with the stage manager, Jack watched carefully as every bit of equipment was broken down and loaded.

One of the stagehands appeared with Bruno. With a sigh, Jack took the furry football and freed the stagehand from dog duty. With Bruno on a leash that stretched miles, Jack walked around the back of the buses, where he paused so Bruno could take care of business.

Something caught his eye. There was a man standing on the loading dock, in the shadows. Jack walked around and in between two buses, so that he could move closer to the loading dock without being detected. When he got closer, and could see the dock again, he started a little.

The man hovering about was Rich, wearing a long dark coat, one hand holding a lit cigarette, the other hand deep in a pocket of the coat. Over his shoulder was a small black gym bag. He stood back, as if he meant to be in the shadows, watching the loading.

He was waiting, Jack thought.
Waiting for Audrey
.

Jack stepped back, deeper into the shadows himself, but where he could still see Rich. He watched him as the roadies loaded, and when they went back inside the amphitheater, Rich moved. With a furtive look around, he walked to the first bus, Audrey’s bus, and boarded.

Jack quickly followed, tethering Bruno to the bus’s sideview mirror. He stood outside, waiting in the shadows. A few moments later, Rich reappeared and stepped off the bus and Bruno, bless him, went berserk. He had no idea that tiny dog could turn so ferocious.

It startled Rich; Jack stepped in front of him. “What’s up?” Jack asked casually.

Rich gasped and quickly dropped his head so that Jack wouldn’t see the makeup he was wearing. It was too late—Jack had seen the garish stuff around his eyes and mouth and the inexplicable dusting of white powder on his face.

“I was just putting some stuff on the bus,” Rich said. “What’s up?”

“You know the rules—no bags go on the bus until we’re here to see it. It’s a security measure.”

Rich shrugged and looked down the lane between the buses. “I forgot.”

“So what did you put on the bus?” Jack asked.

Rich looked at him from the corner of his eye. “A bag,” he said. “That’s all. It’s hardly a security breach.”

“You’re probably right. But let’s just have a look to make sure,” he said, and grabbed Rich by the arm. “Why don’t you show me what’s so special about this bag that you had to load it yourself?”

“What the hell are you doing?” Rich cried, trying to yank his arm free as Bruno went for his ankles. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

Jack pushed him up the stairs of the bus. Bruno’s frantic barking increased.

“The police questioned me and let me go—you have no
right
,” Rich shouted, struggling against him. But he was a smaller man, and his strength was no match for Jack’s. “Take your hands off me or I will kill you!”

“Before or after you kill Audrey?” Jack asked, and shoved Rich inside. “Where is it?”

“You’re insane,” Rich said, rubbing his arm where Jack had held him.

“I’ll ask nicely once, and then I will crack your head open. Where the hell is it?”

With a roar, Rich lunged for him, but Jack had choreographed more fights than Rich had ever seen, and easily caught him, turned him around, and threw him down on the couch. He twisted one arm behind Rich’s back and pressed his knee into the elbow. Rich howled with pain just as Ted bounded on the bus, alarmed by Bruno’s frantic barking.

“What the hell?” Ted said, and moved to help Jack.

Jack found the bag Rich had hidden in a floorboard compartment beneath the carpet. He dropped it in front of Rich and unzipped it and proceeded to withdraw a gun, a weird pair of fangs, a blond wig, and a small bag containing the makeup Rich was wearing. There was also a laptop computer, an envelope addressed to Audrey in the same script as had been taped to the fake bomb, and a vial of something red and thick.

Jack looked at Rich and held up the vial. “What are you, a vampire?”

“I will have you arrested for this,” Rich snarled.

“Twisted, man,” Bucky said, shaking his head at the contents of Rich’s bag.

“You people have no idea how much trouble you’re in,” Rich said angrily.

“Well, you can tell the cops all about it when they get here, which should be any minute now,” Jack said, and pushed Rich down on the couch to wait it out.

Two hours later, Rich, who was as meticulous with organizing his threatening letters as he was with Audrey’s finances, was on his way to the Little Rock jail. Jack left Ted in charge of making sure everyone got on a bus for Dallas, scooped up Bruno, and went in search of Audrey.

He was exhausted, having slept very little in the last twenty-four hours, and needless to say, his emotions had been through a roller coaster. He was drained of life, running on pure adrenaline. But he knew what he had to do.

Audrey knew something was up when she saw Jack striding down the corridor, holding a panting Bruno like a football. She was still reeling from the news that her business manager was the one behind the threats, that Rich, who had been taking her very generous pay for his services, was plotting to kill her at the same time.

It was almost more than she could absorb. “
Vampire?
” she’d echoed with disbelief when Detective Ruiz told her about Rich. “What do you mean,
vampire
?”

“I mean the dude is kinky,” the detective said with a shrug. “But I think he’s probably harmless. He’s the sort to like the drama and the world of make-believe, but he doesn’t have the guts to carry out any fantasy. In other words, he’s not quite in touch with reality.”

“How is this possible?” she asked Lucas. “I had no idea he was so obsessed with me. Didn’t we check this guy out?” she asked Lucas.

“Of course we did,” Lucas said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “But we didn’t ask him if he had a vampire fetish.”

BOOK: American Diva

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