Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) (14 page)

“When was the last time you saw Mittens?” I asked Carl, feeling myself begin to worry.

In a monotone, bored voice that told me he couldn’t care less, he said, “I couldn’t tell you.”

“Of course not,” I muttered under my breath.  “That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” 

Irritated, I made my way back into the kitchen and inspected Mittens’ food dish.  When I saw that there were only crumbs left, I let out a sigh of relief.  That was a good sign, wasn’t it?  Surely it meant the cat had been around recently.

“Did you by any chance let Mittens outside?” I asked as I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for the little creature’s absence. 

I knew how much the cat loved to gracelessly charge after unsuspecting birds from a mile away, never managing to come close to catching any of them but nonetheless enjoying the hunt.  Actually, sometimes I wondered if the cat deliberately did that, delighting in scaring the birds.  That theory made the most sense, because I couldn’t fathom how any self-respecting cat could actually be so clumsy and inelegant! 

Besides, the cat wasn’t
always
lacking in stealth.  While Mittens was completely hopeless at catching birds, he was pretty skilled when it came to sneaking out past us undetected whenever the door opened.  He was a brat at the best of times, but that was a big part of why I loved him.  With that cat, there was never a dull moment!

“Even if you didn’t let Mittens out, do you think he could have snuck out past you?” I pressed, regarding Carl anxiously as I awaited his response.  “Did you leave the door open at all today?  Could he have slipped past without you noticing?”

“Could have,” Carl acknowledged as he stared at me through heavy lidded eyes.  His tone was one of utter indifference and he was swaying a bit, as though he’d already indulged in a drink or eight.  “Sometimes that damn thing gets underfoot and sneaks out when I open the door,” he reminded me before letting out a belch.

I nodded, went to the front door and poked my head outside.

“Mittens?  Here Mittens!” I called out in a loud voice, expecting to see my cat’s sweet whiskery little face any second as he trotted across the front lawn toward me.  But that didn’t happen.

“Where is he?” I demanded as a feeling of unease threatened to take me down.  “Even when he gets outside he always sticks pretty close to home,” I said, half to myself.  “He doesn’t usually run away.”

“Neither do you.”

Choosing to ignore Carl’s remark, I wordlessly continued my sweep of the house, both to search for the cat and to gather up the last of my things.  But as I went about my business, I couldn’t help but think about what Carl had said. 

Had Mittens run away because I hadn’t come home?  Had he gone looking for me?  As I considered the possibilities, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.  What if something terrible had happened and it was all my fault?

“I have to go,” Carl abruptly announced as he grabbed a loud, obnoxious Hawaiian shirt from the back of a nearby chair and threw it on.  “We’re short staffed at the diner these days,” he added, looking at me accusingly as though I was singlehandedly to blame for all of the world’s wars, famines and natural disasters. 

“Oh.”

“Are you done here?”

“No, I am
not
done here.  I haven’t found Mittens yet!” I replied in exasperation.

“Well I have to go,” he repeated, making it clear from his hostile body language that he wasn’t about to leave me alone in the home we had once shared.  Then, to make completely sure there was absolutely no doubt in my mind about his position, he added, “You’ve gotta leave.  I’m not about to come home to find all my shit gone.”

“I wouldn’t do that and you know it.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “There are a lot of things I didn’t think you would do,” he pointed out.  “Turns out I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.  I’m not taking any chances.  You have to get out now.”

Feeling frustrated beyond belief, I racked my brain to come up with the best course of action.  Getting the word out about my lost cat as soon as possible seemed like the best idea, I decided.  For all I knew, maybe a well meaning neighbor had even taken him in or something.

“Can I at least print up some flyers to put up in the neighborhood?” I pleaded.  “If Mittens is really missing, that’s the best way to find him.”

Carl paused, seeming to consider my request.  For a minute I was certain he would tell me to go to the place down the street that charged $1.00 per page – it was a total rip off and everyone knew it, yet somehow the crooks still managed to stay in business due to small town economics (supply and demand, baby).  But then, perhaps Carl had an attack of conscience.

“Be quick about it,” he ordered, stepping aside so I could access the spare bedroom, which served as his home office, not to mention his porn haven and collectible sports memorabilia display room.  “I don’t have all day.”

When the phone in my jacket pocket rang, it sounded like angels singing.  Or at least it did in my head.  In reality it was a loud, screaming heavy metal ringtone – probably that of some legendary band Brandon idolized.  But it didn’t matter.  What mattered was that he was calling me.

“Brandon!” I exclaimed, taking for granted that it would be him on the other end.  And it was.

“Hey Hayley, how’s it going?” he asked, the sound of his voice instantly calming me.  “I’ve been thinking about you all day, wondering and worrying.  Is everything okay?  Carl hasn’t given you any trouble, has he?”

“Not really,” I replied.  “But he hasn’t exactly been helpful either.  Mittens is missing.”

“Missing?”

“Yeah, I’m on Main Street right now putting up flyers,” I said as I stuck up another one, attaching it to the side of a shiny red mailbox with several pieces of tape.

“Oh no...”

“I already stopped by the animal shelter but there’s no sign of him there.  I don’t know what else to do,” I said, beginning to feel rather tearful.  “Do you think Mittens tried to find me and got lost?  Some cats do that, you know,” I informed Brandon woefully.  “I’ve heard stories about them traveling cross country to reunite with their owners.”

“So have I, but isn’t it more likely that your cat is hanging around somewhere in town doing cat things?” Brandon asked sensibly, a much-needed voice of reason in my world of uncertainty and chaos.  “He’s probably curled up somewhere warm napping, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re worried, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I agreed, finally feeling a much-needed glimmer of hope.  “You’re probably right.”

“So what do you want to do?” Brandon asked, sensing I wouldn’t be meeting up with him in New York City as planned – at least not until Mittens was safe and sound and accounted for.  “I can get you a hotel room there if you want?”

“There are no hotels in town,” I replied absentmindedly, my thoughts still focused on my sweet little cat.  “The only place to stay is a bed and breakfast down at the end of Main Street.  It charges a small fortune for a room but I guess it can get away with doing that when it’s the only option in town.”

Sometimes even I was momentarily taken aback by how small the town really was.  But the good news was that Mittens was bound to turn up somewhere – maybe he had simply wandered into a neighbor’s backyard or, as Brandon had suggested, curled up for a nap inside a warm garage.

“Go get the nicest room at that B&B you mentioned.  Don’t spare any expense,” Brandon told me, taking charge of the situation.  And it was a good thing he was taking charge, because my head was spinning and my brain felt like it had turned to mush.  In that moment I was deeply grateful to him for talking me out of my panic and helping me devise a plan.

“Maybe staying the night is for the best,” I agreed somewhat reluctantly.  “I was really hoping to meet up with you right away but I can’t leave town until I find Mittens.  I need to be here right now.”

“I know.  I wanted you here too, but I understand.  I’m going to put you in contact with Cheryl, one of the band’s assistants.  She’ll take care of your room payment – you don’t have to worry about a thing,” Brandon assured me.  “It’s all under control.”

“Thank you.  I’ll pay you back as soon as I can,” I vowed, hating that I was once again having to rely on Brandon and his money to get me out of a tight spot.  The last thing I wanted was to mooch off of him any more than I felt I already had.  What I would have given to be self-sufficient right then!  I wished I was in a position to come to my own rescue.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not paying me back for anything.”  Then there was a pause, followed by some muffled voices.  Then Brandon very reluctantly told me, “I’m really sorry Hayley, but our security team is telling me I have to go.  There’s apparently a squealing mob of fans headed this way,” he explained, sounding less than impressed. 

Actually, he sounded like a guy who hated being famous.

“Go!” I assured him, not wanting him to get caught up in the craziness I had briefly witnessed firsthand.  “Be careful!”

“You too,” Brandon told me, sounding worried.

Then the line went dead and just like that, I was on my own again.

One day turned into two...and then three.  Before I knew it, I had spent nearly an entire week in town searching frantically for my cat.  Each day that passed without any sign of him made me panic a bit more. 

What if Mittens had been killed by a wild animal or hit by a car?  What if he had gotten sick and gone off alone to die somewhere in agony?  I was a complete mess, worried sick as I obsessed over all the awful scenarios I couldn’t get out of my head.  The guilt I felt for leaving my cat behind – even though it had only been temporary – was overwhelming. 

Mittens was a special cat.  Sure, technically I had rescued him, caring for him when he had no one else.  But in a way, he had rescued me too.  He had been the one constant in my life, giving me stability after a tumultuous and dysfunctional childhood.  I had lost count of how many times he had sat on my chest purring late at night as I had tried to get the day’s horrors out of my head.

He was a source of comfort to me, and sometimes my very reason for being.  No matter how bad things had gotten in my life, I had always had a reason to roll out of bed in the morning.  Mittens needed food and attention and love, and that kept me going.  Knowing he depended on me made me feel good, and his love for me was truly unconditional...even if he did sometimes act as snooty and temperamental as, well, a cat.

Leaving town without Mittens wasn’t an option.  I had to find him.

My days were spent walking the streets calling his name as I searched under parked cars and behind trash bins.  My nights were spent silently sobbing into my pillow at the local bed and breakfast down at the end of Main Street. 

I missed my cat, I missed Brandon and I missed the life I had been so very close to having.  It had almost been within my grasp, and then it had all slipped away.  Though I wanted to believe this was only a temporary setback, sometimes late at night when I felt my loneliest, I wondered if Brandon and I would ever be together the way we’d planned.

When those doubts crept into the back of my mind, uncontrollable sobs quickly followed.

For Brandon’s sake, I tried to pretend I was okay.  He had been busy in New York City living out his dreams.  So often it seemed like his passion for music had been tainted by the business side of things, not to mention the downsides of fame.  But when he had called me the morning after he’d played the benefit concert with his music idols, the excitement in his voice had been undeniable. 

I hadn’t had the heart to let him know how heartsick I was.  I hadn’t wanted to put a damper on his excitement, so I had done my best to hide my true feelings just as I had done throughout my entire childhood.

After the benefit concert, the band had been busy doing press.  There had been interviews with various journalists for music magazines, guest appearances on daytime talk shows and even a surprise concert in Central Park.  As Brandon had explained it to me, the band was finally getting recognition from mainstream media, which opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

I got the sense that Brandon didn’t care about said possibilities.  He only wanted to play music. 

But the big name record company the band was signed with cared very much about promotional opportunities – anything to make a buck, Brandon had bitterly commented.  Due to that, the band’s schedule was rather grueling as they tried to pack as much as was humanly possible into each day.  In fact, just listening to Brandon talk about what he’d done and all he had left to do made me tired!

Despite his schedule, Brandon had still found time to call me at least twice a day.  But when he had asked me how I was doing, I had lied and assured him I was fine.  If he’d had any inkling that I was falling apart, he would have immediately dropped everything to be with me.  I knew that.  I also knew he had obligations to the band to uphold.  I couldn’t bring myself to interfere with that. 

Besides, Brandon couldn’t be of any help to me if he was there anyway, aside from providing a shoulder to cry on.  Asking him to rearrange everything for me seemed incredibly selfish.

The phone Brandon had given me was ringing again.

For the first time all day, I felt my sadness fade ever so slightly as my heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?”

“Hi!  How are you doing, honey?” Brandon asked me immediately, the concern in his sexy, raspy voice evident.  He had called me honey.  The term of endearment made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

“I’m better now that I’m talking to you,” I told him, not wanting to completely lie.  I already felt bad for misleading him about my state of mind, but I was doing it for his own good.  “How are you?” I asked.

“Tired,” he replied.

“You sound tired,” I agreed.  His voice was always gravelly, the result of playing show after show.  All that screaming was obviously rough on the vocal cords.  But today his voice was even hoarser than usual.  I was afraid Brandon’s grueling schedule was taking a real toll on him.

Hesitantly, he said, “I hate to ask, but...?”

“No, I haven’t found Mittens yet,” I sighed, a lump forming in my throat.

“Aw, Hayley...I am so sorry,” he told me, his tone gentle and kind.  “So Europe...?”

“I can’t go with you to Europe,” I told him regretfully.  “I need to stay here for the time being.  And actually, my passport seems to have gone missing,” I added.  In all the commotion over my missing cat, I had almost forgotten about that.

“By missing, do you mean Carl is holding it ransom?”

“Probably, or else he threw it out just to spite me,” I agreed, making a face as I walked down the street, phone in hand.  “He’s such an immature jerk.  I can’t believe I was ever with him – or that I stayed with him for so long.”

“I can’t believe it either, and I hate to think about it,” Brandon admitted.  He paused.  Then, very apologetically, he gently suggested, “Hayley, if Carl would destroy your passport to get back at you for leaving, do you think...?”

“No,” I said sharply, unwilling and unable to believe it.  “Please, don’t even say it!  I don’t want to think about anyone hurting Mittens.  And like I keep telling you, Carl’s an idiot and yes, he can be vengeful, but he would never hurt an animal.  I’m sure of it.”

“Okay.  I’m glad Carl has at least one redeeming quality,” Brandon remarked, the bitterness in his voice evident.  “I’m sorry for even bringing it up, Hayley.”

“It’s okay.  I know you’re only trying to help.”

“God, I miss you,” Brandon said.  “Hearing your voice is the best part of my day.”

“Hearing your voice is the best part of
my
day,” I replied immediately – and it was so true!  I lived for Brandon’s phone calls.  The sound of his voice on the other end of the phone, coupled with the knowledge that he cared, was my salvation.  It was what was getting me through.

“Please.  My voice sounds like shit right now,” he laughed.

“It does not.  I love your voice.” 

“I love
you.
”

Brandon had no idea how desperately I needed to hear him say that.  Or maybe he did.  In any event, the words filled a void deep within me, giving me reassurance and hope.  In that moment, I wanted to hold him and be held by him so badly. 

But since all we had were words, I simply replied, “I love you, too.”

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

“I’m just walking through the park,” I replied.  “The sun is out today, so it’s pretty nice.”  I hated to think about what it would be like when it turned cold.  I just hoped Mittens was someplace safe, dry and warm.  But I didn’t tell Brandon that.  Instead, I asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m in my hotel room,” he replied.  “I just got in from a meet and greet.  Now I’m lying in bed talking to you and wishing you could be here with me.” 

“I wish I could too.”

“I would love to be able to hold you right now,” he confessed.  “Just lie in bed with you, listening to you breathe and smelling your hair as I fell asleep.  If I could have that right now, I’d be the happiest man on Earth.”

“Oh, I want that too,” I sighed, sadness and longing washing over me in equal parts.  “I miss the way your arms feel around me.  I miss your hugs...your kisses...I miss everything about you.”

“If you were here right now,” Brandon said huskily, “I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you.  I would be all over you, my fingers running through your gorgeous hair, my lips grazing your cheek...”

A warm blush spread over me.  The distraction Brandon was providing was much needed, and the picture he was painting was intoxicating.  “And then what?” I managed to ask, my mouth suddenly dry as my heart began to pound in my chest.  “What would you do next?”

“I would take my time with you,” he replied at once, not missing a beat.  “I mean don’t get me wrong, I would be desperate to have you.  Completely and hopelessly desperate.  But at the same time, I would want to savor every moment with you, because you are amazing and ought to be savored.  I’d kiss your face, your lips, your neck...”

“And then what?” I breathed, feeling faint.             

“If you would let me, I’d undress you slowly, piece by piece.”

“I’d let you,” I blurted out, caught up in the fantasy.  Since Brandon wasn’t actually there with me and couldn’t actually take off my clothes and see my naked, flawed body, it was safe to dream.  It was safe to pretend.  It was safe to lose myself in the moment.

“Hayley, I want you so bad.”

“I want you too.  I’m crazy about you.  I’m so sorry I stopped you when we were –” I began.

“Don’t apologize,” Brandon told me, cutting me off midsentence.  “You weren’t ready yet and that’s fine.  The last thing I want is to rush you or make you uncomfortable.  When the time is right, we’ll know.  You’re worth waiting for, Hayley.” 

“The time is right!” I blurted out, unable to contain myself.  “I want you so much it hurts!”

“Screw it, I’m blowing off tomorrow’s plans and hopping on a plane,” Brandon declared.

My heart sank. 

To talk about going all the way with him was one thing, but to actually do it was another.  The thought terrified me.  Brandon was so incredibly sexy with that slightly too long dark hair, those sultry, kissable lips and twinkling eyes that effortlessly drew me in every time they met mine. 

He was so out of my league that sometimes I couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it yet.

As much as I wanted to be with him, I couldn’t bear the idea of him seeing me naked.  Even if we did it with the lights off, I was sure he would still be able to  feel the scarred, stretched out flesh of my stomach as he ran his hands over my skin.  It would be beyond humiliating.  I couldn’t do it.

“Don’t!” I exclaimed, perhaps a bit too vehemently. 

“Why not?” he asked, clearly surprised by my unexpected reaction.  “I thought you wanted it?”

“I do, but I uh...I want our first time together to be romantic,” I told him, thinking fast.  “I want it to be um...I want it to be in the bunk of your tour bus!”

Why that particular demand had popped into my head, I had no idea.  And clearly Brandon didn’t either.  After a long pause, he asked, “You want to do it on the tour bus because you think it will be...romantic?”  His bewilderment was unmistakable, and I couldn’t blame him.  But there was no turning back now.

“Yes,” I said firmly, as though my suggestion was the most reasonable and obvious thing in the world.  “I think it would be very romantic to be cuddled up together in your bunk.  It’s...cozy.”

“I guess that’s one word for it,” he replied uncertainly.  “So you’re sure you don’t want me to come see you tomorrow?” he asked, sounding crestfallen.  “I mean, we don’t have to do anything.  We could just hang out, if you want?  No pressure, Hayley...I just want to see you.”

I desperately wanted to say yes to that.  But I was still spooked by the knowledge that getting physically intimate with Brandon was a very real – and imminent – possibility.  How much longer would I be able to put it off before he got impatient and gave up on me? 

“You have things planned for tomorrow, don’t you?” I asked knowingly.

“Yeah, I do, but...”

“Oh shit!” I suddenly exclaimed, my heart sinking.

“What is it?” Brandon demanded.

“It’s Carl!” I hissed as I jumped to my feet.  “He’s walking through the park and he’s headed right toward me.  He’s already seen me so there’s no getting away.  Shit, shit, shit, I don’t want anything to do with him!”

“So tell him that,” Brandon urged me.  “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

“I have to go,” I told him, feeling as though my entire head was filled with cotton balls. 

As he neared me, I assessed the situation.  Carl didn’t look angry.  In fact, he looked very calm as he walked purposefully toward me with something clutched in his hand.  When he reached me, he stopped right in front of me and threw the object down at my feet.

It was Mittens’ favorite toy:  a fuzzy purple ball filled with catnip.  It drove the cat absolutely wild, and had been the object of much attention over the years.  Carl always referred to the catnip as crack for cats, though he didn’t find Mittens’ antics nearly as amusing as I did.  The stuff caused hyperactivity and maybe even mania, that was for sure!