I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (16 page)

With her head cleared, she turned to the sink. Rinsed out her dish and propped it in the dishwasher. She went to her happy place, where the sun beat down on her pretty flowers and an ocean breeze stirred them into a sprightly dance.

“Hey.” She felt the heat of his big body at her back.

Oh, hell. She could do this. She had to do this. It was her
job
. Taking in a deep breath, she stilled herself, making herself go quiet inside. She turned to face him.

But the moment she looked into his eyes, saw her pain reflected back, she had nothing left inside to draw from. No reserves. She just felt like collapsing. And she couldn’t fake it.

“Please excuse me.” She tried to step around him, but his hand came up and stopped her.

He stood a little too close, watched her a little too . . . carefully. “What’s up with Pete?”

“Not sure. Vince said he’d get him back here, but we haven’t heard from him in a while. Slater’s on it, so you should probably talk to him.”

“I’m talking to
you
. It’s your job to know where Pete is.”

Well, that snapped her out of it. “I know that. I dropped the ball. We’re taking care of it.”

“That’s not like you to drop the ball. How’d that happen?”

“I came back a few minutes ahead of the guys to get a start on dinner. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Derek’s brows shot up. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“But Slater found him with Vince, so he should be here soon.” She tried again to shift away from him, but he stepped into her path.

“Is he shitfaced?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“It’s past curfew.”

“Yes, I know. I said I dropped the ball tonight. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Resolve cleared her head. “Now, stop trying to intimidate me.”

“I’m not intimidating you. I’m talking to you.”

“Well, I don’t have any answers. Let me talk to Slater about it.” She looked up at him, pleading. He took short, choppy breaths, and he didn’t budge. “Please?” she whispered.

“Hey, don’t get my man all worked up.” Gen sidled up to him, her hands caressing his chest. She was like a cat in heat, rubbing up on him.

“Gen,” he said testily. “Can you give us a minute?”

And just like that, the woman dropped the whole sex kitten demeanor. “Let someone else deal with Pete, okay? You can have one night off. Isn’t that why you called me?” And then her gaze slid to Violet. “Isn’t this the only reason you’re here?”

“Yes, it is.” Violet forced her way around both of them and headed to the stove. “If you’re hungry, there’s some polenta and salad left. Help yourselves.”

“Oh, I’m hungry all right.” Gen threw her arms around Derek’s neck and pressed her hips into him.

Something seemed to snap in him, because he lost all patience. Taking her by the shoulders, he led Gen to the master bedroom. He practically shoved the woman inside. Just before he went in, he turned to Violet. “Do you need anything from in here?”

Before you lock the door and bang Gen’s brains out all night long?

So Violet got the couch tonight? That was fine. That was how it should’ve been all along. “Yes,” she said quietly, before heading into the bedroom. She just would rather have gotten her belongings out before Gen had gone in there.

Heading for the bathroom to collect her toiletries, she kept a blank expression, unwilling to let the woman see her upset.

“Sorry he’s such a shit.” Gen grabbed a few liquor bottles from the mini fridge. She turned to her, all sexy and soft again. “He’s sexually frustrated. But don’t worry, I’ll have him purring by morning.”

Violet ignored her, her mind so filled with noise, her hands shaking so badly, she could barely accomplish her task. Making sure not to betray a hint of emotion, she gathered her face wash and perfume and stuffed them in her toiletry bag.

Plucking her sleep clothes off the chair, she shoved them in her suitcase and zipped it up. “Good night,” she said as pleasantly as she could, wheeling her luggage out the door.

The guys were in the kitchen, cleaning, blasting music, so no one noticed her dragging the coffee table aside and removing the cushions from the pull-out couch. God, she wanted this night over.

What an idiot, falling for a client. Well, lesson learned. Pulling the blanket and pillow from the closet, she got to work making the bed.

He’d moved on, so she would, too. She’d think about her farm, her products.

And tomorrow she’d wake up with a whole new perspective.

What else could she do?

•   •   •

The
click of the door jarred Violet awake. She sat up, squinting against the triangle of light that disappeared when the door shut. “Pete?”

His body slammed into the table, and he grunted. Violet’s gaze slid to the clock. It wasn’t quite two fifteen. Not that late.

“You okay?”

“I’m fuckin’ great. Is that Vi-o-let?”

“Yeah. You going to bed?” She’d get him some water and ibuprofen. Fortunately, experience had taught her to go to bed fully clothed when dealing with her clients.

“Is that an invitation?” She could hear the energy in his voice. He wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.

She threw back the blanket, started to get up. “No, Pete. You seem a little angry.”

“Angry?” He let out a bitter laugh. “Now, why would I be angry?” He tripped over her suitcase, which she’d left near the couch. Landed on his knees. “Ow. Fuck.” He groaned.

She flipped on the lamp and then got out of bed. “Are you all right?”

He gave a maniacal laugh, his head tilting back.

“How about I get you some water?”

“Ah, that’s so sweet, Vi-o-let. You’re always so fucking sweet, right? That’s what you like people to think, that you’re sweet. But you’re not really sweet. You’re a fucking bitch. A destroying, lying, fucking bitch.”

He looked totally wasted, and she suspected he’d swallowed yet another cocktail of pharmaceuticals. As she tried to move around him, he blocked her—not touching, just shifting his body in an attempt to intimidate.

She gave him a gentle smile. “I’m just getting you some water.”

“I don’t want water. I’m on tour with my band. You know how many years I fucking dreamed about this? And now I’m living it and you fucking come along and try to take away all the good shit. You think I’m doing this so I can go bowling? You think I want a curfew so I can get up early and go boxing? What
the fuck
do you think this is?”

Spittle flew from his mouth as he whispered harshly. Not loud enough to wake the guys.

“I want you to live your dream, Pete. I really do. But you
don’t want your dream to end after this one tour, do you? From everything I’ve heard, Irwin has great plans for you.”

He swayed, eyes hardening. “What the fuck do you know?”

“I know you’re going to feel awful in the morning, so I’m going to get you some ibuprofen.” She moved around him, but he grabbed her arm and jerked her. “Let me go, Pete.”

“Don’t fucking walk away from me. And don’t fucking pull that pep talk shit with me. Your voice all low and gentle, like you’re talking to a fucking mental patient. You don’t know shit. You don’t know fucking anything. You’ve turned them against me. They think I’m some fucking
addict
. I’ve known these guys
ten years
, and then you come along and make them hate me.”

“Oh, my gosh, Pete, they don’t hate you. They
love
you. This is tearing them apart. They’ll do anything to help you.”

He lurched to his feet, grabbing her sweater for support. “I don’t need fucking help, you stupid bitch.”

She yanked out of his hold and bolted away from him, but he stumbled forward, tackling her onto the bed. “Pete,” she shouted when he landed on top of her.

The breath left her lungs, and her body went into fight mode. No one hurt her.
No one
. Her hips bucked hard, and she thrashed. “Get off me, you son of a bitch.”

Feet pounded, lights flicked on, and soon everyone was in the room.

“Oh, my God,” Emmie said.

But before anyone could even register what was going on, Derek threw Pete off the bed. His body hit the floor with a sickening thump.

Derek stood over him, his body shaking with anger. “What happened?” He whipped around to Violet. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, shaking with anger and fear.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Derek bellowed.

Pete leapt to his feet, charged Derek. “You’re going to side with her? With
her
?”

Derek cocked his arm and swung, dropping the wild-eyed man.

Emmie was on her knees, at Pete’s side. “God, Pete, what is the matter with you?”

Derek spun back around to the bed, shoved his hands under her back, and lifted her into his arms. She could feel his heart pounding. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you.”

She drew the sweater across her chest. “I’m all right.” Adrenaline still screamed through her veins.

He leaned back, looking deeply into her eyes.

Gen approached, watching, arms crossed over her stomach.

“Fuck.” His eyes closed and his fingers pressed into her back. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No, it’s okay. He didn’t hurt me.”

Gen came up behind him, her hands sliding down his chest. “You okay, hon?”

Derek tore the woman’s hands off him and got up roughly. “Cut the shit, Gen.”

He turned back to Violet, leaving Gen wide-eyed. “That’s it. We’re done. You got a place for us to take him?”

She knew exactly what he meant. And she did know a great rehab facility for Pete in Manhattan, not even an hour away.

She nodded, knowing how hard this was for him.

She was proud of him for making the right choice.

•   •   •

The
moment the elevator doors opened, Derek shot down the hall, surging ahead of the guys in his determination to get back to the suite and see her.
Fuck.
He should’ve listened to her. She did this shit for a living. She wouldn’t have suggested rehab if she hadn’t been able to foresee how things would do down.

He would never forget the look in her eyes with Pete on top of her. He still shook with rage that his friend had tried to . . . what? They’d both been wearing clothes, so what had Pete been doing on
top of her
? It didn’t look sexual—Pete said it hadn’t been—but he didn’t know.

He was damn well about to find out. But really, goofball Pete? He couldn’t imagine Pete hurting a woman.

Hurting
Violet.

Sliding the key card in, he threw the door open.

The emptiness hit him as abruptly as if he’d walked straight into a wall.

Slater pushed past him. “Em?” He strode into the bedroom. “Fuck.” And then rushed right out. “She’s not here.” He pulled out his phone, calling her for the hundredth time since they’d caught a cab to the rehab facility.

A familiar ringtone from the bedroom had Slater tossing his phone onto the couch.

Wherever they’d gone, the women had left quickly. The pillow still held the indentation of her head, the covers were still thrown back. Everything as she’d left it. Violet always straightened up her things—she didn’t think it was housekeeping’s job to pick up after her—so leaving the room in this state let him know she’d run.

He dialed her number yet again, but of course, the call went straight to voice mail. Was she feeling betrayed because she thought he’d been with Gen? Or did she feel he’d failed her? Hadn’t gotten Pete the help he needed sooner?

Or, fuck, what if Pete
had
hurt her? It was killing him not to know.

She wouldn’t take his call, so he shot her a quick text.

Slater’s freaking out. Have Em call him.

Then he turned to the guys. “Pack up.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I find out where Em is.”

“We’re going to her.” And to Violet.

“Why wasn’t Violet watching him last night?” Slater asked.

“It’s not her fault,” Ben said.

“She was,” Cooper said at the same time. “But then she wanted to go to the hotel and get dinner started, and we wanted to stay a few minutes more.”

“We told her to go ahead,” Ben said. “Said we’d keep an eye on Pete.”

“She didn’t even leave a half hour before we did,” Cooper said.

Derek didn’t want to hear this shit. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. Assigning blame is a waste of time, considering we
have a shit load of problems to work out.” Like their tour. Like Irwin. And Violet. Dammit, why wouldn’t she answer her phone? Give him some idea how she was doing?

“We got rid of Bax,” Cooper said. “I thought he’d be okay.”

“Look at us, man. Fucking look at us. We swore we wouldn’t become this.” Slater thrust out his forearm. “I meant this shit. Fuck. If this is how it’s gonna be, then I don’t want it. I want to make fucking
music
. I don’t want shit like this. If you guys want all the bullshit, then we should just end it right here, right now.”

Derek’s phone rang. Violet’s caller ID. He handed his phone to Slater. “It’s for you.”

Slater didn’t even look, just punched the button and snapped, “Em?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Where are you?”

After a pause, he blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.” His tone softened. “You’re right. Where are you?”

“Come on, guys,” Derek said to Ben and Cooper. “Pack up. I’ll tell Abe we’re ready to roll.” He just needed Slater to find out where they were going.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Slater said.

Derek mouthed,
Where are they?

He mouthed,
Violet’s place.
And then he snapped. “Give me the address.”

He pulled the phone away and stared at it. “She hung up on me.”

“Dude, chill.” He took the phone. “You’re yelling at her. She’s trying to take care of Violet, and you’re going apeshit on her.”

Slater let out a defeated breath. “Get her back.”

He punched V’s speed dial and thrust the phone at his friend.

“Em? Hey, I’m sorry.” Everything in his friend relaxed as he listened. “You did? Okay.” And then he smiled. “You
did
? You’re amazing. I love the shit out of you. We’re on our way.” With a smile that wasn’t fading anytime soon, he handed the phone back. “She arranged a rental car for us through the hotel and had them program the address into the GPS.”