Love Resolution (Black Cat Records series) (23 page)

“That’s weird. Why in the world would she leave her cell behind?” Dwight asked, brow furrowing.

“Trevor.” Marcus head whipped up, eyes burning. “Call the cab company. We need to figure out who picked up passengers in the past couple of hours and where they dropped them off.”

“Sure,” the band manager said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll call right now.”

“Here.” Ray offered him a piece of paper. “I jotted down the number of the cab she left in.”

Sam walked into the room, eyes widening as she stepped gingerly around the destruction. “Has anyone heard anything?”

“Ray saw her leave in a taxi,” Marcus answered. “Trevor’s calling now to see where they dropped her off.”

“Ok. Good. Someone as famous as she won’t be able to stay out of sight for long.” She wagged an accusatory finger in front of Marcus’ face. “I get the feeling that you might have some idea why she took off tonight without telling anyone.”

Marcus turned his back on her.

“Perhaps I should rephrase that,” she said, moving in front of him again. “I just spent the past half hour talking down a bunch of VIP’s. They’re pissed off that the meet and greet was cancelled. I don’t have to tell you that Mary is pretty unhappy, too. So pardon me if I’m a little irritated and not in the mood for evasion.”

Marcus folded his arms and stared down at the riled tour manager.

Sam stood up straight and returned his glare. Taking a step closer, she put her finger out as if she was going to poke him in the chest, but folded her arms across her chest instead. “She’s my best friend, Marcus,” she told him lowering her chin. “I’m worried about her. A responsible girl like her doesn’t just up and disappear. Something’s happened.” She looked back in his eyes. “And you’re gonna tell me what.” Her words were more a plea than a demand.

The room fell into a suspenseful silence.

“She walked in on me with someone,” Marcus admitted softly.

Sam covered her mouth.

“A groupie,” Dwight interjected with a frown. “A very famous kiss and tell one.”

“You have Avery and you slept with a groupie?” she asked, voice muffled through her fingers.

Marcus could feel all eyes on him. He crossed the room, the bedspread creasing as he sank down on top of it.

“She
thinks
that I did,” he whispered.

He’d only wanted to protect her, but instead he’d broken her. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. Nothing, nothing in his life could have prepared him for the way he’d felt watching her look at him like that. Watching their love die.

I hate you
.

Fuck.

“What do you mean
thinks
?” Dwight demanded with a frown.

Suddenly everyone was speaking at once.

Dwight took one long measured look at Marcus before seizing control of the chaos. “Trevor, keep working on the taxi thing. I think the sooner we find her the better.” He shifted his attention. “Sam, talk to War or someone with Tempest and get Jackson’s number. Maybe he knows something. We need to explore every avenue. Everyone keep your cells on. I’ll stay here with Marcus. We’ll work on getting this hotel room cleaned up.”

As soon as everyone left, Dwight turned on him. “What’s really going on here?”

There was a long uncomfortable pause. Marcus glared at him, watching comprehension dawn in his brother’s eyes.

“This was all just a set up. You
wanted
her to think you slept with Adrienne.”

“Yes.” Marcus let out a long sigh. “I just wanted Avery to get on with her life…minus me. I knew Adrienne would go along with it. She’d never tell anyone that I
didn’t
sleep with her. It’d ruin her reputation.”

Dwight rolled his eyes at Ray who just shook his head.

“After the accident,” Marcus explained, “I knew she’d be better off without me. But she kept pushing, wanting us to get back together. I knew that it would take something drastic to make her give it up.”

“Shit, Marcus,” Dwight exclaimed. “This is so jacked. You’re looking at it all wrong. It’s not whether or not you’re good enough, but whether or not you’re the right one for her. It’s really messed up that you took that choice away from her by doing something this stupid.”

“I had to. You know Avery. She wants to save everyone. She would have stayed with me. The only way I could be sure she’s safe is to keep her away. You weren’t there that night.” He dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “I can’t get the image of her unconscious and covered in blood out of my mind. I thought I had killed her. Every time I look at that scar I think about how close it was. I’m not willing to take that risk with her again the next time I fuck up.”

“Then you don’t fuck up, Marcus. If you love her: You. Don’t. Fuck. Up.”

“Thank God.” Bryan swept her into his arms, her own hanging limply at her sides. “When I saw that last wave take you under, I thought I’d lost you.” He slogged the rest of the way in, her body held tightly against him. At the shore he stopped, put her down, shrugged out of his leather jacket, and zipped it on her. It was so large that the hem came midway to her thigh. “Let’s get you inside.”

He lifted her again, and headed up the beach, climbing the wooden steps and urgently striding across the pool deck and inside the doors of the iconic white and red clapboard structure of the Hotel Del Coronado.

In a semiconscious state, Avery was vaguely aware that Bryan stopped to speak with someone at the front desk. The next thing she knew he was setting her down inside a bathtub.

Body shaking violently, she watched as he turned on the water and quickly stripped down to his boxers before climbing in behind her.

“We need to get you warmed up fast. You may have hypothermia.”

The hot water felt like tiny sharp needles against her frozen sensitive skin. After a while her teeth stopped chattering and her body ceased shaking. Only when the warmth began to sink in did it dawn on her that she was naked with him in the shower. She had no memory of him removing her wet clothing. “Bryan,” she started, and he stopped rubbing her arms. “Um. I don’t think… I mean I appreciate this, but I think I’m ok now.”

“Yeah, ok. Good.” His voice was gruff, deeper than she’d ever heard it. He stepped out of the shower and pulled the curtain closed without looking at her. “Keep getting warmed up. I’m gonna dry off and have some food sent up. Take your time.”

She soaped off, washed and conditioned her hair, and then stood shakily under the spray until her entire body was almost as red as her hair. Her fingertips were pruney by the time she finally climbed reluctantly out of the shower. She cleared the fogged mirror and gasped at her reflection. Her hair was tangled and matted around her face and her pale skin was red and blotchy from the abrasion of the sand and sea water.

“You ok in there?” Bryan asked.

“Yeah. I just look like hell.”

“It’s no wonder. I don’t know what you were thinking. The water’s freezing this time of year. Not exactly a good time for recreational swimming.” He paused. “Got food out here. Come out when you’re ready and we’ll talk.”

“Ok.” She’d obviously misjudged him. Bryan Jackson might have a bad boy reputation and was a shameless flirt, but he had a thoughtful and caring side, too. And he’d found her tonight when no one else had. Probably saved her life as well. Maybe she meant more to him than she realized.

She searched around the small art deco black and white tile bathroom for a robe but had to settle for a large bath towel. Oh well he’d already seen her in less, much less.

Cheeks flushed, she took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. Finger combing through her tangles, she watched Bryan rise from the edge of the king-sized bed. Two wheeled room service carts laden with breakfast food lay between him and the bed.

He flipped his cell face down on the bed. “You look… warm,” he said, gaze roaming up and down her flushed body.

“I couldn’t find a robe.” She self-consciously clutched the top edge of the towel where it was tucked between her breasts.

“I think there’s one in the closet. But don’t bother on my account.”

Ignoring his teasing, she pulled it from the closet and wrapped herself in it before shimmying out of the towel.

“Come on over here,” he offered, moving to the mauve leather settee and draping a napkin in his lap. “Have something with me.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, sharply.

“At least a piece of toast. It’ll soak up all that salt water. And maybe some tea. It’ll warm you up.”

“No tea,” she whispered. She couldn’t think of it without thinking about Marcus.

“Ok. Coffee, then,” he said eyebrow cocked. “I want you to clue me in on what’s going on…friend. Everyone’s looking for you, you know.”

She took the seat next to him on the settee and nibbled on a piece of toast as he poured her a cup. Bryan polished off both plates of eggs, two pieces of toast, and a slice of ham by the time she managed to finish her scant meal.

He put his napkin down and looked at her expectantly.

She glanced away for a moment, not in the least interested in talking about the evening’s events. Putting words to what had happened would only make it more solid and more real in her mind. Unknowingly, she twisted her napkin until her fingers turned white.

“Red.” Bryan took it from her. He squeezed her hand gently before looking in her eyes. “Where’s your engagement ring?” he asked softly.

“On the carpet back at Marcus’ room I’d guess.” She gave a harsh laugh.

He watched her face, waiting patiently for her to continue.

She stood and crossed to the French door that led out to the balcony, looking out at the dark, churning ocean. “He’s sleeping with someone else,” she said with her back to him. Fiddling with the tie on her robe, she turned back around, gaze downcast. “It’s over between us.”

Bryan crossed the room and tugged her into his arms.

After a brief hesitation, she took the comfort he offered and laid her head down on his chest.

“I’m sorry, Avery. I know you really loved him. Anyone could see that.”

She sagged in his arms. Her breath came out in a long rush. He held her gently for a long while, before finally stepping back. He rubbed a strand of her auburn hair between his fingers.

“Your hair’s dry now. You should lie down and get some rest. Today’s a day off. I’ll come by later and check on you.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep since Seattle,” she admitted, glanced at the bed, and sighed. “Could you…would you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Sure, Red.” He crossed to the head of the bed, moved his cell over to the nightstand, and pulled back the covers. He sat and tugged off his boots before climbing in. Leaning back against the upholstered headboard, he held out his arm to her.

“As friends?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course. Let’s just take things one step at a time, alright?”

“Ok.” She shuffled to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside him.

“Come closer.” He scooted over and pulled her against his side. When she stiffened, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry. Lay your head here,” he patted his chest, “and close your eyes.”

“As you wish,” she said with a thin smile. Exhausted, she rested her head against the hard plane of his chest and fell instantly asleep.

“Avery!” Marcus shouted, banging on the hotel door. “I know you’re in there. The manager told me. Open the damn door!”

After a moment, the door cracked open.

Bryan.

His nostrils flared and his hands clenched into fists.

The young guitarist stepped in front of the door and leaned back against it, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was shirtless and wearing jeans that looked as if they had been hastily buttoned on.

Shit no.

“Marcus,” he acknowledged with narrowed eyes, propping the door open with his body, blocking the view into the room.

“Out of my way, Pup. I need to talk to Avery.”

“Funny, I don’t think she
needs
anything from you, asshole.”

“Bryan?” Avery’s sleepy voice carried over to them. “Who are you talking to?”