Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (45 page)

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Authors: Michelle Mankin

Tags: #The Brutal Strength Shakespeare Inspired Series

BOOK: Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3
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It struck him as a little odd that she’d left them there. She was kind of a neat freak. He must have underestimated how tired she had been.

Hearing muffled singing in the shower, he lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door when he heard a clattering sound behind him. Swiveling around, he was surprised to find Danny standing in the doorway behind him with a breakfast tray in his hands. His brows turned down.
What the hell was going on?
For a moment, like an idiot, he didn’t get it. He glanced at the pile of clothes and then at Danny. The truth smacked him like a cement wrecking ball.

She’d slept with Danny last night. The thought of Danny’s hands on her undressing her, touching her naked skin made him shake with jealous rage. Every muscle in his body tensed. A wave of anger engulfed him. To think he’d turned her down last night, wanting to preserve her innocence. What a fool he’d been.

“You piece of shit!” JR turned toward Danny, eyes blazing.

“Hey, we’re all consenting adults.” Danny set down the silver tray, hands held up defensively in front of his chest. “You don’t own her, JR.”

JR felt like he was going to be physically ill. He’d really fallen for Samantha. Hard. He had thought she was so different from all the other women he’d been with. He’d bought into her naiveté, but obviously he’d been duped. Who knew the countless number of men who’d already had a piece of her? She was probably just as big a player as her sister.

His fingers itched to punch something… someone in particular. He advanced toward Danny with a menacing growl.

“Now wait a minute, JR. I didn’t realize you two were that serious.”

“Bullshit! I told you the night at the Rickshaw to keep away from her,” he shouted, shoving Danny into the wall with a forearm under his chin. One of the pictures fell off and crashed to the floor. The water in the shower shut off. JR jerked his head around. He was so angry he didn’t know what he would do if he saw her right now. He gave Danny another hard shove. “I suggest you stay the hell away from me or I just might have to go ahead with my first instinct and separate your head from your body.” Tossing one last heartsick glance in the direction of the shower, he turned abruptly and stormed away.

 

 

SAM HAD BEEN gripping her cell phone so tightly that her palm bore an indentation from the plastic cover. Pointlessly, she checked again to make sure the ringer was on. JR hadn’t called and wasn’t responding to any of her attempts to reach him. It was nine thirty. He should have been here two hours ago. Desperate for information, she decided to go ask Danny.

No one answered when she knocked on his door. Tears began to burn her eyes. Nagging fears and doubts exponentially grew and multiplied. Like a hydra from Greek mythology, each time she severed one, two more rose up to take its place.

Back in her frilly white on white themed bedroom, she tried to think who else she could call. Her hand shook as she hit redial on Sara’s number again, but it went directly to voicemail like all of her previous attempts. Scrolling through her contacts, she located Keith’s number. With a resigned sigh, she hit send. He answered on the first ring.

“Geez, Samantha what were you thinking?” Keith demanded in an accusatory tone.

“Huh? What do you mean?” she stuttered, twisting the chenille bedspread self-consciously. “Is JR there with you?” Dread made her stomach feel like it was filled with ice. “Can I talk to him please?” she managed to ask.

“Sorry, Sam. He doesn’t want to talk to you and I really don’t blame him. I mean, what’s there to say, anyway? Listen I gotta go. Don’t call him anymore, ok?”

Her hands trembling, she dropped the phone. Tears she’d held at bay began tracking down her face one after the other. She was at a total loss. One thing was absolutely clear, though. It was over.

JR didn’t want her. Remembering how her turned her down last night, she wondered if he ever really had. Maybe she wasn’t pretty enough. More likely her inexperience had been a big turnoff for him. She couldn’t believe how badly his rejection hurt. Her skin burned and her abdomen ached like she’d done too many sit ups. Curling into a tight ball, she buried her head in her pillow.

The sun on her face woke her up several hours later. Looking out the window, she guessed it to be around noon. Her cell phone buzzed on silent mode. Momentarily hopeful, her heart fell when she glanced at the caller display. It wasn’t him. She pressed her lips together, chastising herself for getting her foolish hopes up. If she did that every time the phone rang, she’d quickly become a nervous wreck.

“Sara,” she sobbed.

“What’s going on? You sound terrible. Have you been crying?”

Sam nodded even though her sister couldn’t see her. “JR… he…” her voice cracked and she had to swallow several times in a row before she could continue. “Something’s happened. I don’t know what, but he won’t even talk to me. It’s over between us.”

“Oh, Sam.” The line was silent for a moment. “I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry. He’s an idiot.”

“Yesterday was so perfect. We went sightseeing. I met his mother and then we went dancing. Everything was fine. I had hoped...”

“Do I need to come get you?”

“No. I’m a big girl.” Sam forced her tone to be even. “I can take care of myself. I’ll call Harbour Air and get on standby for an earlier flight.”

“Good. I’m almost back in Vancouver myself. I’ll meet you at the terminal. Call me before you take off.”

“Wait a minute, Sara. I thought you were going out to Whistler with Chris.”

“I did, but things didn’t work out.” Sara’s tone was as even as the one Sam had employed. “Guys suck. I love you Samantha Anne. I’ll see you soon.”

 

 

TOO MUCH IDLE time
, Sara thought as she waited for Sam in the Harbour Air lounge. Her fingers drummed restlessly on the chrome armrest. Pulling off her gloves, her mind wandered back to earlier that morning.

She’d awakened in Chris’ arms, her back nestled against his warmth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly or felt so safe.

Easing out of his embrace, she rose slowly being careful not to jostle the bed. She watched him as he slept, admiring his rugged good looks. Age had only added depth and dimension to an already appealing face.

Sara noticed the corner of his mouth was curved up as if something had amused him. She smiled wistfully. Even in his sleep, he had that irresistible sardonic thing going on. The man appealed to her on so many levels. She smirked. If he woke up and caught her staring, he would never let her live it down.

She’d remembered how tenderly he had stroked her hair until she’d fallen asleep. How he’d refused to take advantage of her weakness. No man had ever treated her with such respect. Like what was inside of her mattered most. He was a riddle that she couldn’t seem to solve.

Chris Alex, the sneaky bastard, was trying to thaw his way into her cold dead heart. But she couldn’t let him. He didn’t realize what he would find when he got inside. Her genes were defective, the union of a harlot and a killer. No wonder she had made such a mess of her life.

And now that killer, her father, was up for parole again. Twice he’d been denied, but this time it looked like it might be different. Leann’s update the other night indicated that the lawyers were worried. So was she. Thus the return of the nightmares.

She glanced down one last time at Chris’ sleeping form while she quietly dressed. He made her wish for things that could never be. She was strongly tempted to climb back into bed with him, to tell him everything, to let him take care of her. She shook her head to clear it from that kind of thinking. She couldn’t undo all the horrible choices she’d made before now, but for once in her life she was going to make the right one. And that was to leave. Chris deserved better than her, someone who wasn’t broken.

There. Her brain had won the tug of war with her heart.

Taking a deep breath, Sara moved quickly around the suite, gathering the few things she’d taken out and stuffing them back into her roller bag. Tears pricking her eyes, she softly closed the door and moved down the hall to the elevator.

 

 

SARA HAD GIVEN up trying to sort through the tangled mess by the time she heard her sister’s flight number called. Heading outside to the gate, she waited for Sam to disembark. When she saw her cross the dock, Sara’s brow creased. The breakup had exacted a heavy toll that was evident in the way Sam carried herself. No easy smile. No spring in her step. No sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey Munchkin,” Sara said, embracing her. “How are you holding up?”

“Sara,” she rasped, clinging to her sister for a long moment. “Can we please just get out of here?”

“You bet. I’ve got a taxi waiting at the curb.”

Back at the hotel, Sara sent Sam ahead to the room with orders to take a hot bath. Meanwhile, she went next door to the supermarket and picked up a couple of cartons of high calorie, low nutritional value therapy.
Desperate times called for desperate measures
, she mused. When she returned, she called out, “I’m back. I’ve got triple chocolate chip.”

A cloud of steam escaped from the bathroom as Sam shuffled out in a robe and slippers, her hair up in a towel. She flopped on the sofa and flicked on the television. “
Duck Dynasty
?”

“Absolutely. Who needs men, right?”

By the time they’d finished the ice cream and a couple of episodes of their favorite reality program, Sam’s eyes had drifted shut. Sara got up and threw away the empty cartons. Kneeling beside the sofa, she squeezed her sister’s hand. Sam opened her eyes, giving her a sleepy stare.

“I’ve gotta go if I’m gonna make my flight,” Sara said, stroking her hair. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok? I can wait for the eight thirty one in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam assured her. “That would be cutting it too close. You won’t have time to rehearse before the show.”

Sara gave her a measured stare. “Are you sure, Munchkin?”

“Yes. Git,” she ordered, managing a wan smile. “And tell Cash hi for me.”

Sam didn’t realize that she had drifted back off until the banging on the hotel door jarred her rudely from sleep.

“Sara! Open this door!”

Bother
. It was Chris.

“Where is she?” he demanded, barging into the apartment, visibly irritated. Sam had never seen him so frazzled. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, sporting a half day’s scruff and his normally perfect coif a chaotic tangle.

“She’s gone,” Sam informed him, glancing at her watch. “You missed her by over two hours.”

“Gone where?” he asked, clearly deflated.

“Back to Texas. She has a concert with Cash Beaumont at Billy Bob’s tomorrow. She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.” Chris flopped down in the chair, running his hands wearily across his face. “That’s the thing about your sister. I can’t get closer than arm’s length with her.”

That’s Sara, alright
, she thought. “I understand things aren’t working out between you two.”

“Is that all she told you?” he asked with a frustrated sigh.

Sam nodded.

“There’s a little more to it than that.” Chris proceeded to bring her up to speed with an edited for content account of the weekend. “I really care about her,” he confided. “But it’s really wearing me out trying to figure out what’s going on here.”

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