Turbulent Sea (47 page)

There was a shocked silence. Brian was the mellow one, the diplomatic one. The band counted on him for stability.

The baby started to cry, and Logan put his arm around Tish and pushed her toward the door. He held it open. "Everyone out. You too, Jerry. Just the band stays."

The members of the crew, Rick's girlfriend, and Jerry went out. Logan shut the door firmly, stood in front of it and crossed his arms.

Joley took what was left of the guitar from Brian's hand.

He jerked away from her and paced across the room. He was trembling. His melody and aura was so sorrowful she felt weighed down, drained. A hopeless, shattering despair ate at her, and she knew it was coming from him.

Brian flung up both hands. "I'm out. How 'bout that, Rick? I'm gone. You fucking play the guitar if you're so damned good at it."

Rick puffed out his chest. "You think I can't? Hell, I could play better than that any day of the week."

"Stop!" Joley stepped between them. "Everyone has a bad night. All of us have had them. Flu, hangovers, losing a girlfriend—all of us have had accidents and lost our mikes, pulled wires, come on. This is crazy. Everyone's on edge here. We've been on tour for months. We're tired and need a break."

"We're all tired, we all need a break. But we're not fucking throwing a tantrum," Rick snapped.

"That's exactly what you're doing," Logan said. "Shut up, Rick. Can't you see something's wrong? What the hell's going on, Brian?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Brian couldn't control the rush of adrenaline, the buildup of aggressive energy. He was looking for a target, pacing back and forth, his fists doubled up.

Joley had a bad taste in her mouth. She knew. It had to be Nikitin. Brian wouldn't look at her, wouldn't meet her eyes. He'd gone to see him again, and this time something had happened. He knew the truth about the man he'd grown to love. She felt sick for him.

Denny leaned against the door, watching his friend with worry in his eyes. "Dude. Don't blow us off. We've been your family. You've never been upset like this. I've never seen you angry. Not once in all the years we've been hanging together." He spread his hands out in front of him. "Whatever it takes, man, it's yours. Whatever you need. You've always been there for us, we're not walking away from you now."

"Really? Really, Denny?" Brian's eyes glittered with anger. His face was flushed red. his hands balled into two tight fists. "I'm your friend? Your family? What the hell are you going to say when I tell you I'm fucking gay? Yeah, man, that's right, I'm a fucking fag."

"You say it like that again, Brian," Joley snapped, "and I'll slap your face."

Brian stood in the center of the room, his chest heaving as he fought for air. He looked defiant, ready to fight. His challenging gaze fell on Rick.

Rick glared right back. "Shit, man, that's what this is about? If coming out of the closet was going to make you play like an asshole, why the fuck didn't you wait until after the tour was over."

"I…" Brian's mouth opened and then closed; he stared at them in shock. "You…
knew
about me… about… How long?"

"Hell, Bri, of course we knew." Logan shook his head. "We've known each other since grammar school. Did you really think you were that good at keeping a secret?"

"You never said anything," Brian said. He was still breathing hard, trying to assimilate what they were saying. He was stunned, staring around the room in astonishment at his friends.

"What was there to say? You never brought anyone around, not that it would have mattered, and then we figured you were careful because of the paparazzi. If you didn't want it splashed all over the tabloids, neither did we."

Brian looked at each one of the band members. "I can't believe this. All this time you knew and never said anything?"

Denny shrugged. "It wasn't our business. What's the big deal, man?"

Brian shoved both hands through his hair several times. "I thought it would change everything between us if you knew."

"Why the hell should we care what you do, Brian?" Denny asked.

"I don't believe this. Weren't you afraid the tabloids would make up a bunch of stories about us traveling together?"

"They make up shit all the time," Leo said. "What the hell, Brian? You've known us since we were five. Did you really think it would make a difference to us?"

Brian shook his head. "I told my old man after my mother died and he told me he never wanted to see me again. Hasn't anyone ever wondered why I never go home?"

"Your old man's a drunk, Brian," Rick pointed out. "Screw him. You never liked your family anyway. You slept on my couch half the time and on Denny's the other half."

"Well, shit," Brian said and sank down onto the couch. He stared around him in a kind of dazed confusion. "I
really
don't believe this." He flashed the beginnings of a faint grin. "I ruined my fucking guitar for no damned reason."

Rick toed the wreckage. "Waste of a damned fine Gibson Les Paul." He sat down beside Brian. "Next time you decide to come out of the closet, Bri, smash a cheap guitar instead. This just makes me wanna cry."

Brian managed a faint smile. "You all knew?" He repeated. "You all discussed it? Talked about me?"

Denny snorted. "Hell yeah, we talked about you. We talk about everyone, why should you be any different? But, no, if you think we sat around talking shit, it was never like that. I'd beat the crap out of someone who talked shit about you. Any of us would."

Brain rubbed his hands over his face again and shook his head, obviously dazed by their reaction. "I don't know what to say."

"You can say you need a new guitar before tomorrow night," Joley said with a quick grin. She'd never loved her band members more than at that moment. But she could see the raw pain still swirling around Brian. In spite of what he'd revealed, in spite of everyone's reaction, he wasn't all right. He was struggling to maintain. She had to find a way to distract the attention from him. "The next time you have a secret, try not to go all Jimi Hendrix on your guitar. Of course, if you really wanted to do it right, you could have smashed your guitar onstage. Then we could have gathered up the pieces, autographed them and sold them as souvenirs."

She redirected the conversation, all the while keeping watch on Brian. The anger had drained away, but the dark moody colors still swirled around him and his melody was sad and lonely, as if his heart were breaking.

Talk gathered around them, the band members teasing Brian about breaking his guitar into tiny matchsticks and selling the pieces on eBay. Brian took the teasing in his normal good-natured way, but while his mouth was smiling, there were shadows in his eyes, so she stayed with the band, being there with him, with them, laughing and teasing in a way she hadn't done in years.

Eventually, as the others drifted out and made their way to the hotel, she sat down beside Brian. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head. "It hurts, Joley. I've never hurt like this before. Not even when my father disowned me."

"What happened?"

"Someone tried to kill Sergei tonight. I was with him. If it wasn't for the bodyguard, Prakenskii, we'd all be dead."

Joley inhaled sharply and reached out. Ilya didn't answer her. She closed her fingers over the mark on her palm and pressed her hand to her heart. "Is everyone okay?"

Brian glanced at her sharply. "You mean the bodyguard? He just about killed everything that moved, but he got us out alive. I have to take back everything I said about him. He didn't hesitate to come into that house after us, when we were completely surrounded. I thought we were dead, Joley. I really did." He hung his head, scrubbing his face with his hand, over and over, as if he could wipe away the memory.

Her heart pounded hard. She tried to still it by taking deep breaths. "But everyone's okay?"

"Yeah. After a car chase and a shoot-out."

"And then you came here and performed."

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. "Not very well, apparently."

Joley answered his smile with a teasing one of her own. "I don't know. After all that, I'd say you did pretty well."

The smile faded from Brian's face, and he looked as if someone had ripped out his heart. "He's a mobster, Joley. Prakenskii tried to cover for him, and I knew he was doing it for my protection." The words stumbled over one another fast, coming out in a rush, as if all the air in his lungs was bursting out with the revelation. "Prakenskii was worried Sergei would hurt me if he guessed I knew the truth."

She bit at her lip, frowning. "How did you find out?"

"You mean aside from all the dead bodies? Bodyguards aren't like that. Prakenskii is a machine, Joley, cool and without emotion; he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, not one time. There were so many of them, and he killed them all. Sergei and the other guy, Eddie, took it all as if it happened every day—and for normal people that's just not the case. And then, when we were in the car, Sergei told Prakenskii he would kill the people who attacked us and kill their families."

"He said that in front of you?" She tried not to let her alarm show.

"He spoke in Russian. I know he thought I wouldn't understand, but I've been studying Russian for the last year. It was supposed to be a surprise for him…" He trailed off, tears swimming in his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Businessmen don't say they're killing not only their enemies, but the families of their enemies. I knew right then."

Joley put her arms around him and held him close. "I'm sorry, Brian. I'm really, really sorry." She didn't like the crazy thoughts swirling around in his head. "Come back to the hotel with me tonight, Brian, and we'll just talk for a while."

"I don't want to intrude."

"Don't be silly, you wouldn't be intruding. Say you'll come. Steve can drive us both back together. And if you don't want to hang with my family, you can call it an early night."

Brian looked around the empty room. "I loved all this. The music—the life—all of you." He spread his hands out in front of him. "Now it seems so empty."

"Because you need someone to share it all with," Joley said. She stood up and tugged at his hand. "You know you shouldn't be alone, Brian. I may not be Nikitin, but I love you, and I'm always here for you. Come on back with me. You can sit in a corner and read a book if you don't want to talk. I'll spoil you with gourmet chocolate," she added, using a clear bribe.

He managed another laugh and toed the wreck of his guitar. "I can't believe I did that."

"Me either. That was your favorite guitar."

Brian put his hand in hers and they walked out of the room. Jonas and Aleksandr shot her an inquiring look as they stood and closed ranks around Brian and Joley.

"Everything okay?" Jonas asked.

Joley nodded. "It's all good."

They walked through the halls until they came to the exit. Security was everywhere, and a few lifted their hands when Joley flashed them a smile. Steve stood beside the car waiting as they came over.

"I'm sorry I held you up," Joley greeted. "We got talking."

Steve shrugged. "It's my job. No big deal."

Jonas opened the door for her. "We'll follow behind you in the other car."

"That's dumb. There's plenty of room and no need to take two cars. Just tell the other driver you're coming with us," Joley protested. Steve started the car and at once warm air began to fill the interior. Joley hadn't realized she was cold until that moment. "And hurry up because I want to get back and have a hot cup of tea."

Jonas nodded and shut the door. Steve put the car in gear and began to pull away.

"Wait. Wait for my brothers-in-law," Joley said, leaning forward in her seat. "They're coming with us."

A smoky window went up between the front and back seats. At the same time, the locks snicked into place.

"Steve. What the hell are you doing?" Joley demanded as the window continued to rise between them. "We need to wait for Jonas. Steve, damn it. What are you doing?" She knocked on the window. When there was no response, she tried the doors. The lock wouldn't respond. "Great." She slumped back in her seat. "This is just great."

Joley pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open to call Jonas. "Shit. No service. He must have a jamming device in the car with us."

Brian's eyebrow shot up, and in spite of the situation he laughed. "A jamming device? You sound like a spy. Are there jamming devices? And if so, how do you know about them?"

Joley flung herself back against the seat. "This is such bull, Brian. My own driver-slash-bodyguard is kidnapping us. And my bodyguard brother put us in the car. And my bodyguard boyfriend is off playing with his friends. Sheesh." She crossed her arms across her chest and kicked the front seat hard, right in the middle of Steve's back. "And when he stops this car, I'm kicking his ass."

Brian laughed again. "You're so crazy, Joley. Most women would be scared at this point. Hell, if I hadn't seen a dozen dead bodies today, I'd be scared, too."

"I'm tired and mad. Really mad. We've been working for months nonstop. I'm one show away from going home. Sea Haven is about four hours from here, Brian. That's it."

"So what are we going to do?"

She scowled and drove the toe of her shoe deep into the middle of the back of the driver's seat a second time just for emphasis. "I have no idea. But these idiots are messing around with the wrong woman. My sisters are not going to be happy about this." Joley looked around her. "All right. What do we have back here that can be used as a weapon? We just have to buy ourselves a little time. Jonas and Aleksandr will be following. Ilya will come, and my sisters are going to be a force to contend with. Give me a minute and let me see if I can reach any of them."

But it was Ilya she called first. She closed her eyes, blocked out everything around her—all sounds, all thoughts—and concentrated on him. Her palm itched, and she ran her fingertip over the mark, as if she could physically touch him.

Ilya. I'm in trouble.

She felt him moving through her mind, and then there was warmth.
That's nothing new
. The faint note of humor caressed her with a soothing touch.
The word just came in to Nikitin that the kidnappers want a meet. They're using you and Brian, who apparently is with you, as a bargaining chip to work out a deal. Nikitin would never have shown up for you. They don't know it, but they're holding a winning hand with Brian
. There was that same reassuring warmth.
Don't worry, I'd show up for you, but as Steve's involved, they probably expect that
.