Drowning to Breathe (22 page)

Read Drowning to Breathe Online

Authors: A. L. Jackson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Bleeding Stars, #Book Two

BOOK: Drowning to Breathe
13.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Her momma started the car and jerked it out of the parking spot, peeling from the lot.

Embarrassment and shame had Shea’s head tipped down, face turned so she could see the blur of buildings as her momma turned her anger to the street.

The tears she’d been trying to hold finally fell. They made her throat feel full and her eyes burn, and all she wanted was to go home. To go to her grandma’s house where it was safe.

She tried so hard to hold it back, but a sob heaved free, and she felt a shudder shake her shoulders as she tried to sink into the door and disappear.

Her momma released a muted curse, before she started talking quick. “I’m sorry, baby. It was that damned dress. You looked like a little girl. Should’ve gotten you something more mature.”

She felt the same fingers that had been digging into her arm softly touch her shoulder. “We’ll find something better for the next one…do your hair up real nice and make you look as pretty as you are. I bet you could pass for fifteen. How’s that sound?”

Hesitating, Shea turned to face her. Wiping her tears with the scratchy sleeve of the dress, she nodded in hope. “Okay, Momma.”

Her momma smiled. Her momma was so pretty when she smiled.

“That’s my shining star.”

“GO, BEFORE I HAVE
to drag your skinny ass on that plane myself.” Tamar held me on the outside of both shoulders, giving me a slight shake, a shot of annoyance and a ton of mischief playing in her blue eyes.

I glanced down at Kallie who just grinned up at me with all her joy as she swayed her stuffed butterfly clutched to her chest.

Nerves rushed me again.

The only nights I’d ever spent without her had been the two Martin had had her in his clutches. Just the thought of leaving my baby girl now terrified me, something innate within me warning Martin was still out there, waiting for the next opportunity to strike.

But even without that threat, I’d still worry.

This was my daughter we were talking about.

April crossed her arms and huffed.

Charlie chuckled.

“She’s going to be fine, Shea Bear,” he encouraged with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He cast a slight grin my daughter’s way. “You really think we’re gonna let a single thing go wrong when we have this little one in our care? Not a chance. Now go. Have fun. Live it up a little. Act your age. Las Vegas is calling your name.”

It wasn’t Las Vegas calling my name.

It was Sebastian Stone.

My eyes drifted to my daughter again. Hesitation pressed at my ribs.

With a wide smile, she flashed me a row of tiny teeth. “Momma…you
have
to go or
my
daddy is gonna be way, way, WAY sad if he doesn’t get his
burfday
surprise and you got to give him his present for me.”

She said it with all her country flourish and little girl slur, the words rushed and jumbled with excitement.

She took a step forward, shoved the lanky stuffed brown monkey my direction.

She’d seen it in the window of a boutique shop near our house and insisted he would love it, declaring
monkeys are his favorite
as she’d rambled on about the green monkey tattooed on his side. Of course my sweet daughter had no idea the significance of the ink he’d permanently etched across his ribs, a reminder of a life he would never forget, the love of a brother he’d lost too soon.

Accepting it from her, I hugged it to my chest. “He’s going to love it, Butterfly.”

He would. I knew he would. Simply because it was a gesture from her pure, innocent heart.

Her smile grew and she swayed a little wider as a giggle erupted from within her.

“We have her,” April promised as she set a palm on Kallie’s head.

“Yes, we do,” Tamar added as she tossed a sly wink at my daughter. “We have nonstop fun planned for this little one. We’re gettin’ our girl on and are getting manis and pedis and are having us a pajama party, aren’t we, Kallie?”

Kallie jumped around. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I can’t wait. We’re gonna have so, so much fun and I’m gonna stay up all night until the sun comes up and have popcorn and watch all my movies and Auntie April and Auntie Tamar are gonna stay up all night, too.”

I held my laughter. Someone was a little excited.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” I told her playfully as I brushed the back of my fingers down her soft cheek.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be having enough fun for all of us.” This time the wink Tamar tossed was at me, innuendo thick.

My stomach tightened in anticipation. The truth was, I couldn’t wait to get to him. Being without him was getting harder and harder every day.

April burst out laughing. “Oh, there is no question about that.”

Picking up Kallie, I hugged her tight and whispered in her ear. “I’ll see you in two days. Be a good girl while Momma is gone, okay? I’ll be thinking of you every second. I love you so much.”

“I know, Momma. I love you more than the whole wide world.” She squeezed my neck, her stuffed butterfly pressing into my face, my emotions on overload with my own excitement mixed with the flickers of fear from entrusting her to someone else’s care.

I set her down and passed out quick kisses to each member of my unconventional family. Those who again stood at my side, helping me surprise Sebastian on his birthday while the band played a show in Las Vegas. The short four-week tour was more than halfway in, and Sebastian and I had plans for Kallie and I to go to California as soon as they were finished.

But I couldn’t wait that long.

All the guys were in on the surprise.

It was his birthday, after all, and I wanted to be there to celebrate it with him, as hard as it was leaving behind my daughter, even for a short time. But Charlie had convinced me it was okay. That I wasn’t neglecting her or harming her in any way, but instead giving her coping skills, the ability to be separated from me without suffering anxiety.

Funny, I was the one with anxiety.

Of course, it was the ever-present worry about Martin that made it understandably more difficult to leave her. It made it harder to quell the innate need to wrap her up in my protection, to hold her in my arms forever and never let her go.

But this wasn’t me letting her go.

This was me investing in the future we had with Sebastian.

I set one last kiss to my daughter’s forehead and headed toward the security line. I twisted and lifted my hand in a small wave.

My own excitement flared as I boarded the plane and fastened my buckle. I sent Lyrik, Ash, and Zee a group text. “I’m on my way.”

I settled into the seat, lay my head back, and closed my eyes as I breathed in deep.

I’m on my way.

Horns blared within the heavy Friday afternoon traffic. A river of people streamed the sidewalks lining the busy strip. Groups traversed from one extravagant hotel to another, clutching tall colorful frozen drinks, stumbling and joking as they hopped from one indulgent destination to the next. Even within the confines of the town car, I could hear the riot of voices, the excitement that held fast to the air as people flocked to the City of Sin to indulge in exactly that.

You could
feel
it. A tremor of lust and letting go, all cares stripped away as abandon was cast into the wind.

Reckless and rash and wild.

The car made a quick right and wound into the lavish hotel’s passenger pick-up and drop-off, its towers reaching toward the sky where they peered down over the fountains of The Bellagio and the stunning replication of The Eiffel Tower—a bit of Paris brought to the dry desert of Nevada.

Anticipation clenched my stomach, and I fumbled out of the backseat as a ripple of anxious need tickled through my nerves and quickened the beat of my heart.

My phone chirped. With shaking hands, I clicked into the message where Lyrik sent instructions on where to find them.
Lobby, north side.

I left my suitcase with a bellman. Sucking in a breath, I entered into the sensual oasis of glass and lights and nude silhouettes that flashed behind fogged glass, everything about the upscale hotel a sensory overload of suggestion and sex.

My feet moved across the shiny floor in his direction, my pulse increasing with each step. By the time I rounded the corner, every inch of me was shaking with the need to see his face. To feel his skin and soak in his presence.

An eager group of people were congregated around them, video cameras poised as
Sunder
stood answering questions about the show tonight and the upcoming album.

I’d made it just in time to catch the last of their scheduled press conference. The vibe was casual as the four of them posed for pictures and openly answered questions. Behind the media, a ring of onlookers had gathered, snapping pic after pic with their phones. A few called out to them, vying for a little attention from the group of guys who stood out even in the mess of this erotic wilderness, all of them oozing sex and disorder and a taste of delicious wickedness.

Sebastian was like a beacon among it all. The brightest light that was still the darkest dark.

Both hands were stuffed in his jean pockets and he rocked back on his heels, the way he always did when he didn’t know what to do with himself, his head angled to the side as his pretty, pretty mouth moved with whatever he said.

Tingles flooded me from head to toe.

I remained just in the distance of the crowd so I could take him in, my eyes roaming over him with hunger and need.

The man was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, so perfectly imperfect as he flashed his imposing grin for the camera, everything about him intriguing and mysterious and a little bit frightening.

I watched as he interacted with the press and his fans, engaged yet somehow reserved, the man giving them what they expected, the surface and the show.

But I saw everything written beneath.

Mid-sentence, he trailed off and for a moment he froze. Grey eyes lifted.

Seeking.

As if he felt the weight of my gaze upon him—the same way I always felt his.

When they latched onto me, I full out shook. His strange intensity filled the air, powering into me, wave after crashing wave.

We were locked in a stare.

Shock and confusion sifted through his expression.

But I saw it the second it hit him. The realization I was really there. The relief as he forgot everything else happening around him.

All except for me.

Abandoning his circle of admirers, he wove his lithe body through the crowd, shouldering through, ignoring everyone who tried to get his attention.

With every purposeful stride he took in my direction, my heart hammered harder, the quiet gasps slipping in and out of my lungs coming shorter and sharper until they were gone.

Breathless.

And I was in his arms, swept from my feet.

He twirled us once in a staggered spin, before he twisted a single hand up in my hair, the other firm and secure as he held me around my lower back.

I clung to his shoulders as every inch of me glowed.

That mouth was suddenly overtaking mine, all tender lips, eager intentions, and stunning man.

He whispered between kisses, “Shea…baby…Shea. Fuck…I missed you…missed you so fuckin’ bad.”

My hands found his face. “I missed you…more than you could know.”

He let my body slide down the hard length of his, but he didn’t release his hold. If anything, he held me closer as my old red cowgirl boots touched the floor, even though I was still soaring in the clouds.

He dropped his forehead to mine and breathed me in. “Finally get what that old sayin’ ‘sight for sore eyes’ really means.”

A small giggle rippled from between my lips, where his still hovered, the air between us charged. “Happy Birthday.”

He grunted, fingers digging into my sides. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. How long will you be here?”

“Until Sunday.”

I pulled back to look up at his gorgeous face, all hard lines and defined jaw and full, full lips.

God. How was this man mine?

I raked my teeth across my bottom lip, going for a tease. “You’re not disappointed I just showed up here unannounced to crash your party? In some circles, that might be considered rude.”

Other books

Preserve and Protect by Allen Drury
Fool Me Once by Mona Ingram
El jardín de los venenos by Cristina Bajo
A Perfect Death by Kate Ellis
The Killing Hand by Andrew Bishop
Muddle and Win by John Dickinson
The Sound of the Mountain by Yasunari Kawabata, Edward G. Seidensticker
Royal Affair by Laurie Paige
New York Nocturne by Walter Satterthwait