Deep (24 page)

“And you would be?” I asked, with an edge to my voice.

“If you think you’re getting a fucking dime out of him without a paternity test you are dreaming. And even then, he will fight you for custody.”

Interesting. She seemed to believe she knew a hell of a lot about my boyfriend without actually knowing anything at all.

“Your name, please?” I asked.

“You’re not the first little cunt to try this shit with one of them, and you sure as hell won’t be the last.” The woman, henceforth known as “the bitch,” stared down at me from her stiletto-aided superior height. “Why Adrian didn’t let me know I have no idea.”

She was pals with Adrian? Not a good sign. Everything I’d seen and heard about the band’s manager led me to believe he was one of the great douches of our time.

“Was Ben expecting you?” He sure as hell hadn’t mentioned any visitors to me.

“I’m welcome here.”

“Yeah? How did you get in, just out of interest?”

“Security knows me.” A defiant flip of the hair. Christ, the woman was just like every mean girl I had ever encountered in high school. Amazing how some people just stopped developing beyond a certain age and got stuck.

Outside I did my best to look calm and cool, but inside I was one riled-up, unhappy camper. What the hell was she doing in our room? I guess Ben hadn’t had a chance to break it off with this chick. Awesome. “Would you like a juice? I’m dying for a juice.”

“Let me guess: you’re some trailer trash little gold-digging whore who thought getting backstage and sucking one of the guys’ dicks would get you somewhere.”

Guess she didn’t want a drink. But also, “You don’t get pregnant by sucking dick. I’m not majoring in biology or anything, but pretty damn sure of that one.”

The bitch just stared at me. Okay, so this was really not going well.

“Sorry,” I said. Not sorry. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your righteous rant. Please keep going. I honestly can’t wait to hear what you have to say next.”

Beautiful face scrunched up all cat-asslike, the woman actually had the audacity to stalk toward me, her hands curled into fists. The girl was out of her god damn head. My heart beat double time, every protective instinct in me rising up in alarm. Do violence on me and my Bean? I think not. Happily, the bar had a wide assortment of weapons at the ready. My personal favorite being a bottle of Chivas. I hefted it from one hand to the other. Three quarters full. It was weighty enough. No way was I playing nice with this piece of work.

“Martha,” shouted Sam the security man, saving the day. Don’t know when he’d snuck in, but I was mighty damn glad to see him. Given half the chance, I’d cover his craggy face in kisses. “Lay one fucking hand on her and your brother will never forgive you. I guarantee it.”

The bitch froze.

“Hey, Sam. You want some Chivas?” I asked, offering the black-suited muscle man the bottle.

“Perfect. I’ll take that, shall I, Miss Rollins?” He set the bottle back in its place among the fine selection of booze.

“So you’re Ben’s sister,” I said, sucking down my apple juice once more. “Interesting.”

Sam put his cell to his ear, eyes looking somewhat worried for once. The bulky bodyguard had never shown the slightest hint of fear before that I’d seen. What a turn for the bizarre my day had taken. And what an almighty bitch on wheels Ben’s sister was. I sent up a quick prayer that those particular genes skipped a generation or three. No wonder Dave had traded up for Ev. Yikes.

“No way can he be swallowing whatever shit she’s peddling,” spat Martha.

“Mr. Nicholson,” said Sam into the cell. “Your sister has come to visit.”

“Let me talk to him.” Martha stuck out her hand.

The look Sam gave her. Whoa. It even made Martha pause again. Whatever the history was, there, I bet it was one hell of a tale.

“Yes, Miss Rollins and her have met,” reported Sam into the cell. “I just interrupted them exchanging words. The situation was somewhat volatile.”

He quieted, listening to whatever Ben was saying. Then he turned to me. “Miss Rollins, he’d like to know if you’re okay.”

“Best of health, Sam. All good.” I grinned. It’d been a good six or so years since I’d gotten into any fights. The bulk of us grew up and cut out such nonsense. If Martha was hell-bent on meeting my protective mothering instincts, however, then so be it.

Ben and Sam chatted on. Mostly the conversation on Sam’s side consisted of yes, sirs and so on. “Sir,” said Sam eventually, “I wonder if it might help resolve the situation if I had a quiet talk with your sister?” One final “Yes, sir” and he disconnected the call.

“Miss Rollins, would you be so good as to give Martha and I a moment alone?”

“Sure, Sam.” I wandered into my bedroom, juice in hand. My ear was pressed up against the closed door within two one-hundredths of a second. Listening in to others’ conversations is a terrible flaw, I know. No way, however, could I miss this.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam began, his voice low and deadly. “I watched you fuck up shit with your brother and Dave for years. To the point where you had to be sent to the other side of the country so you’d stop causing trouble.”

“Who is she?”

“She’s the girl your brother thinks the fucking world of, and she’s carrying his kid. He was planning on introducing you to her tomorrow, after giving you a heads-up about the situation,” said Sam. “He was hoping you could help her get some maternity clothes, since you know the city.”

The bitch scoffed. “You must be joking.”

“No. See here’s the sad thing. Your brother actually believes in you, thinks you’ve just made a couple of mistakes but that you’ve learned from them and have grown up. He doesn’t get what a bitter, self-centered bitch you are.”

Apparently she had nothing to say to this.

“But then, love fucks with how people see things. And your brother, he does love you, despite all the shit you’ve pulled over the years.”

“I only want to protect him,” she said, voice trembling with fury. “She’s conning him, she’s got to be. Ben’s never been the type to settle down, you know that as well as I do. He’s basically a professional millionaire slacker. He can barely see beyond the next jam session and bottle of beer.”

“People change.”

“Well, if he’s so into her then no way is he thinking clearly. He’s soft, Sam. He’s not like us. We see the world as it really is. People are just out to use the guys, they always have been. And this girl is no different, I can tell just by looking at her.”

Like hell she could.

Sam swore fervently. “You’re right that we see things as they really are. What are you really afraid of, Martha? Worried that if your brother’s actually in a relationship for once, got a woman and a kid to look after, he won’t be inclined to keep propping up your expensive lifestyle?”

Silence.

“You’re the user here, Martha. You always were.”

“Fuck you. He’s my brother.”

“Yeah, your brother, not your bank account. You might want to learn the difference between the two one day.”

No way. Holy hell. So that’s the expense Ben talked about last night—keeping his sister in the lifestyle she’d apparently become accustomed to while living with the band. The only real family he had was bleeding him dry. What an utter bitch. No matter what he’d said, I highly doubted that anything involving this money-sucking leech was under control. Man, did I want another chance to swing a nice hard object at her pretty little skull. But it was his money and family, not mine. Therefore, none of my business really. Not that I stopped listening or dreaming of ways to make this woman disappear. Odd, caring for Bean and Ben really brought out the violent side of me. I swear I was a pacifist usually.

“That girl—”

“Loves your brother. And he loves her. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, and she’s good for him. He’s spending less time alone, talking more, interacting. He’s happy, Martha.”

“Please. What the hell would you know? You’re just the hired help.”

“Don’t be naive. If you were really that stupid we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“He can’t be that hung up on her. I didn’t see a ring on her finger.”

“It’ll happen. They’re just both too thrown by the baby to get around to making shit official yet,” said Sam, the hammering of my heart nearly drowning him out. “You do one thing to cause trouble for them and I will make sure you are never accepted back among the band ever again. Your exclusion will be permanent.”

“They’re my family,” she said in a horrified tone.

“Then start acting like it. Stop taking your brother’s money and stand on your own two feet. Treat Lizzy and all of the women with some respect.”

No reply.

“You’re never getting Dave back. Those days are gone. Accept it. If you don’t want to lose your brother too, you’ll take my advice.”

A moment later the front door slammed shut.

Then the knocking on my bedroom door slammed through my head. Ouches. Eavesdropping was a dangerous pastime.

“You can come out now, Miss Rollins.”

I emerged, sipping the last of my juice, doing my best to appear blas
é
about all the drama-rama.

Amusement shone in Sam’s eyes. “It’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my nose sky-high.

“Of course you don’t.”

I lowered my nose back to where it belonged before I got a crick in my neck. “You really think I make him happy?”

The black-suited dude smiled. It was the smallest of things. There and gone in an instant. “You’re the psychology student. Think about it. Each of the guys plays a role in the band. Not just an instrument, but a piece of the puzzle that makes them work. Dave’s the sensitive poet, Mal’s the loudmouth clown, and Jimmy’s the brooding bastard. But Ben, he just goes on with the work, doing his thing. He’s the only one I don’t have to flip out about if he goes out in public. No interest in the limelight. The guy just pretty much blends, you know?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“The other guys all bought mansions and shit, but not him. He just kept moving, living in hotels, playing his music.” Sam looked at me down the length of his busted nose. Lord knows how many times it’d been broken. “You’re giving him a place to belong, things to plan for, a life outside of all of this. Idiot didn’t even realize he needed it, but he does. You’re grounding him. No one else has given him that in a long time.”

“You’re kind of a philosopher, Sam.”

“Nuh.” Another millisecond smile. “I just use my eyes. It’s what I’m paid to do.”

I smiled back at him. Mine lasted longer.

“Martha comes back, call me. I don’t think she’ll cause any more trouble, but with her…”

“You got it.”

*   *   *

Something woke me at around one in the morning. The light from an e-reader, strangely enough.

“Ben?” I yawned, rolling over to hit warm, hard flesh. “Hey. When did you get in?”

“Not long ago.” He pushed my hair out of my face, proceeding to rub my neck. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Want me to go read out in the living room?”

“No.” I mooshed my face against his ribs, breathing in hot male. Divine. Even the soft, soap-scented hairs under his arms worked for me. As for the treasure trail leading from his belly button down into his boxer briefs … heaven. Impossible to keep my fingers away from it.

“You are such a cuddler.” He chuckled.

“Is that a problem?” The thought that my limpetlike attachment to him might be annoying hadn’t crossed my mind.

“Nope. I like having you close. Means I can keep you out of trouble.”

I set my chin on his chest. “And what does that mean?”

“Heard about your showdown with Martha today. Were you really going to brain her with a bottle of twenty-five-year-old Scotch whisky?”

“If she’d come any closer to me and Bean with her hand raised, you betcha. Apparently I have a violent streak these days, which is a worry. But I’m not willing to stand by while me or mine get hurt.”

“Hmm.”

“I did not initiate it, Ben.”

“I know.” The corners of his gorgeous lips turned down. “I’m so fucking sorry that happened, sweetheart. Had no idea she’d react like that. I mean … I knew she’d think the worst. She’s seen enough of the crap people have tried to pull with the band over the years. Just thought I’d be here to control shit.”

I hid my face against his side. There weren’t a great many polite ways to tell someone that their only real family was an asshole of the worst sort.

“Was hoping you and her would be friends,” he added.

Not fire-trucking likely.

“What were you reading?” I asked, taking the safer option.

“Jim gave it to me. Loaded it up with baby books.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” Ben smiled and raised the e-reader up to his face. “Did you know that contractions are like waves from the deepest sea, rolling pure natural energy through you? You must embrace them and open like a flower to the morning sun so your child can be born.”

“That sounds like some fantastic crap.”

“Yeah, don’t know if this book’s so worthwhile. Might try another.”

“I haven’t done a huge amount of research yet into the actual delivery process. But mostly I’m imagining pain, drugs, and yelling random abuse at anyone nearby.”

A snort. “Also, babies need a shit-ton of stuff,” he went on. “We better get cracking on that. Jim lined up a specialist for him and Lena, who’ll work with them on decorating the nursery and putting in everything they need.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Might be worth thinking about, since we’re still on tour for a while.”

I rubbed my chin against his pec, thinking deep thoughts. “That all sounds great, but we’ve only just decided to try the girlfriend and boyfriend thing. We have no idea if we’ll be living in my apartment or where.”

“True.” He tossed aside the e-reader and curved his hand around my hip. “Was thinking, some of the books said yoga was great through maternity and preparing to give birth and all. I remember you saying you liked doing it but didn’t have a lot of time or money when you were studying. So—and don’t get pissy at me here, ’cause you don’t have to do if you don’t want—but I thought it might be nice if you and Lena had a specialist instructor along, to work with you whenever you felt like it.”