Killing Me Softly (5 page)

She couldn’t wait.

Daemon paced the floor, the sound of his footsteps a drumbeat of impatience.

‘Would you sit down? You’re making me nervous.’

Daemon shot Craig a look. ‘I’m making you nervous? We’ve been waiting here for an hour. How much longer is he going to be?’

‘So, are you both ready to go?’

Both men turned as Lyall Carruthers, Nigel’s assistant, walked into the room. He was immaculate, dressed as usual in a suit and tie, his shoes polished to a high shine, his brown hair slicked back from a high pale forehead. He was the antithesis of Nigel and yet he was the best assistant Nigel had ever had.

‘What are you still doing here?’ Craig asked. ‘I thought you were heading back.’

‘I am, but I just wanted to check if you needed anything else before I left.’

‘Nope. We’re all fine. Run on back to Nigel and tell him all’s well . . . so far.’

Lyall’s grey gaze flicked to Daemon and then back to Craig. ‘Well, then, I’ll be off. But if you need anything, remember to call.’

Craig chuckled. ‘Is Nigel brooding about the fact he got shut out of this meet?’

Lyall’s lips twitched. ‘Something like that. Just remember,’ he cocked his hand beside his ear as if he were holding a phone. ‘He’ll be like a bear until he’s heard from you.’

Daemon didn’t answer.

Craig nodded. ‘We’ll call.’

Lyall shoved his hands in his pockets and left.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daemon saw Craig shake his head and pick up the paper from the coffee table.

‘Don’t read that.’ He snatched away the offending copy of the
Daily Mail
and threw it across the room.

Craig’s brow rose, but his voice was smooth as he said, ‘You know, just because your ex is a whoring, lying bitch who loves nothing more than to shove your face in the shit she manufactures doesn’t mean you can take out your bad mood on the rest of us.’

‘Fuck off, Craig,’ Daemon said, running a hand through his tangled hair. ‘You’ve got no idea what it’s like to have the embarrassing details of your life splashed all over the paper. You try to be all happy and “life’s a party” when your ex is gleefully selling the story of her failed marriage with you and blaming your sordid past.’

‘I don’t understand why you don’t fight back. Where’s the Irish scrapper who punched me when I tried to impress that girl by claiming I wrote “Sink or Swim”?’

Daemon couldn’t help it, he laughed at the memory. ‘You don’t fight fair, you know that?’

Craig scratched his nose in a blatant attempt to hide his smile. Then he straightened, more serious. ‘You know, you really have to forget what she said and move on.’

Daemon waved his hand. ‘I know, I know.’ He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘But your plan worked; I’ve calmed down.’ He took a deep breath and flashed Craig a smile. ‘There. Better?’

Craig shook his head. ‘Not really. Now you’re scaring me.’

Daemon turned away, kicking at the edge of the Persian silk rug on the floor, his mouth twitching. ‘Sod off.’

Craig chuckled. ‘I’m afraid I can’t. After all, I am responsible for this little meet today.’

Daemon dropped to the couch. ‘I don’t get why she’s so secretive.’

Craig rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not going to tell you, so quit bugging me! She’s agreed to meet us. Be grateful. Besides, you said you could deal. If you can’t, you better tell me now.’

Daemon’s gaze fell to the screwed-up newspaper on the floor. What Darla had done certainly wasn’t helping his trust issues. But Craig knew Alexia, and he had to trust his mate that she wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardise their music. ‘No. I’m fine. Just bad timing, that’s all.’ And wasn’t that a masterful understatement! He didn’t know if he could work like this, particularly if Darla continued her publicity mongering. He needed a break. Yet journalists had been calling all morning after her latest revelation. Finally he’d thrown his iPhone against the wall.
Bloody Darla! Why’d she have to do this now
?

The doorbell rang. ‘Here he is,’ Craig said, shooting Daemon a warning look as he walked out of the room to answer the door.

Daemon knew Craig was right. He wanted to work with AJ Denholm, but Jesus, Mary and Joseph, did a man have to wade through hell to do so? The power to dictate where they would record, where they would stay and who could be involved was usually his.

The sound of footsteps on tile made him take in a deep breath, and he let it out slowly.

Craig and Billy walked into the room.

Despite his mood, Daemon managed to smile as he stepped forward. ‘Billy.’ He grabbed Billy’s arm and pulled him into a hug. ‘Thanks for this, mate. I really appreciate it.’

Billy leaned back. ‘You better not make me regret it.’ He shot Craig a look.

‘We know the rules. So, should we get a move on? At this rate we’ll be late for lunch.’ Daemon picked up his jacket and strode to the door as Billy and Craig followed behind.

Billy rounded the luxury black Rover to the driver’s side. Daemon noted the tint on the glass was dark enough that you wouldn’t be able to see more than the shadow of the person inside. At least the press wouldn’t know they’d left.

‘Sorry I was late,’ Billy said as he opened the door. ‘But it took longer to get Cat going this morning than I’d bargained for.’

Daemon frowned as he hopped into the front seat. ‘Why would a cat hold you up?’

Billy chuckled. ‘Not
a
cat. Cat as in Catriona.’

‘Is this the latest bit of fluff?’ Daemon asked, brow rising.

Billy frowned and looked in the rear-view mirror at Craig. ‘Haven’t you told him anything?’

Craig shook his head. ‘Figured I’d already said too much.’

‘Damn right you did.’

‘What are you two blathering about?’

Billy started up the car and drove out into the traffic of Newcastle. ‘It’s kind of a long story.’

‘Seeing your Lexi wouldn’t move out of her precious country retreat, we’ve got time.’

Billy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Listen Dae, I like you and I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few years, but it’s nothing compared to what Lexi has. She’s doing Craig and me a big favour. If you’re going to make things difficult for her, we might as well turn back now.’

Daemon’s jaw hardened. A brooding silence caused tension to arc between the men in the car. Finally he breathed in a deep, calming breath. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not in the best of moods this morning.’

Billy nodded. ‘I know. I saw the papers. I’m sorry, mate.’

‘Thanks.’ Daemon couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

‘Yeah, well, remember all that shit has nothing to do with Lexi and we’ll be fine.’

‘Right you are. I’ll endeavour to be my usual charming self.’

‘There’s a usual charming self?’ Billy laughed. ‘When did this happen?’

Daemon shook his head. ‘You are too much like your brother for anyone’s good.’

‘No need to get nasty!’

Daemon laughed. ‘So, are you going to tell me about this Catriona who made you late?’

Billy paused as he took a turn-off. ‘Cat is Lexi’s twin sister. She’s been in a psychiatric institution for the last ten years. Lexi has been working ever since to set up a home capable of caring for her needs and pay for a full-time physical therapist and nurse to look after her. That’s why you’re having the meet here. Lexi won’t leave Cat when she’s only just got her home. It’s also one of the reasons she didn’t want the press around.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Daemon frowned. ‘She’s not dangerous, is she?’

‘Who? Cat? God no!’

‘Then why was she institutionalised? Is she nuts or something?’

‘No.’ Billy rubbed his hand over his mouth. ‘She is suffering from a form of extreme PTSD – post-traumatic stress disorder – like a waking catatonia.’

‘Jesus,’ Daemon breathed. ‘So what, is she like a vegetable or something?’

Billy winced. ‘No!’

Craig put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. Billy flashed him a smile.

‘She can move around and feed herself with prompting but is otherwise a blank: no speech, no emotion and, until recently, she’s not reacted to anything around her in any way.’

‘That’s changed?’ Craig asked.

‘Yes. She’s starting to notice things. We’re hoping that now we’ve got her out of the institution and into a stable, homelike environment, and with the right kind of therapy, we’ll be able to fully pull her from the catatonia.’

‘You’re the paid therapist!’ Daemon exclaimed as the realisation dawned. ‘So, are you and Lexi an item then? Is that why you gave up your job for her?’

Billy screwed up his nose. ‘Me and Lexi?’ He snorted. ‘She’s like a sister. I’d do anything for her. Just as Craig knew I’d do this for him – even though it went completely against the grain.’

Craig chuckled. ‘You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?’

‘Damn right I’m not.’

As they slung good-natured barbs at each other, Daemon took the opportunity to look out the window and think about what they’d just said, but his attention was caught by the countryside they were driving through. They’d left Newcastle and the land here was nothing like the rolling hills and green lushness surrounding his Totteridge home. Stormy and unforgiving, he was reminded of movies like
Highlander
or
Braveheart
.

The dark wilderness sang to him.

But even it couldn’t keep his thoughts from turning back to what Billy hadn’t said. Daemon itched to know more about what had happened to Catriona.

What would make a person shut herself away from everything? His imagination ran riot as the car sped along the narrow roads. How did it affect Alexia? If they were going to collaborate, he’d need to know if this was something that might impact on her work. But Billy and Craig weren’t talking.

He needed to be able to trust her with his music, but if she was keeping secrets that affected her that much, he didn’t know if he’d be able to.

He’d ask Nigel to look into her background. Their manager could find out anything. He’d found out a whole lot of things about Darla when she started making trouble. It was astonishing what a person could hide from the world. Nigel wanted to threaten her with exposure but Daemon couldn’t. He’d been too hurt by all the secrets, the two-timing, the outright lies. And more recently, the way she’d talked of things he’d told her in confidence just made him want to strangle her. But he hadn’t. That was the one thing he could pride himself on over this whole sorry affair: the urge to pay Darla back was incredibly strong, but he had never sunk to her level.

Was using Nigel to find out about Alexia’s background just another kind of low?

No.

He was protecting himself. His band. If she agreed to work with him, they would be working side by side, moulding his music; music that was his life’s blood. He had a right to be wary.

‘Here we are,’ Billy said.

‘Where?’ Craig asked. They were surrounded by hills that looked like they’d exploded from the ground. The grass and rocks and trees were tough and twisted and dense and the valleys looked like they’d been cut out with a giant icepick. Cattle and black-faced sheep dotted the landscape.

‘The manor lies just over the hill. You’ll see. It’s quite lovely out here. Very restful.’

‘Restful? The Bahamas are restful. This is . . . ’ Craig stopped, struggling for words. ‘Why on earth did Lexi choose to live out here?’

‘She said the land spoke to her soul.’

They came over a rise and Daemon saw what Billy meant. Peaceful and serene it wasn’t, but the craggy tufted hillocks and pastures had their own kind of beauty. Solitary. Wild. He thought he could write here.

Maybe this would be just what he needed. Tucked away in the middle of nowhere, he imagined the press wouldn’t be able to track him down. He could get away from all the little annoyances and concentrate on his music. This could be perfect.

They made a turn through an open gate hung between towering moss-covered stone walls. A wrought-iron sign that read ‘StormHaven Manor’ hung over the gate. The lane wound and dipped and curved before finally coming out into an open plain with what was obviously StormHaven Manor majestically situated on a gentle rise in the middle.

‘Here we are,’ Billy announced as he pulled the car up in front of what could only be described as some kind of castle. ‘And there’s Lexi.’

Daemon’s eyes flickered over the astounding building, a mishmash of different eras, before fixing on the woman standing on the top step between the Corinthian columns of the portico. Dressed in faded jeans, scuffed boots and a black, no-nonsense, scoop-necked T-shirt, she wasn’t at all what he was expecting. ‘That’s AJ Denholm?’

‘That’s Lexi,’ Craig said as he jumped out of the car and raced up the steps to grab her in a bear hug. For a moment it looked as if she stiffened before putting her arms around Craig and returning his hug. Craig put her down and she laughed up at him, the sound husky and musical.

Intrigued, Daemon hopped out of the car, the familiar scents of a farm – freshly tilled soil, mown grass, the pungency of animals and manure – filled his nostrils as he followed Billy up the steps. But he didn’t really take any notice of that. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who turned to face him. Willowy. Fragile. The words came to him as their gazes met.

Green cat eyes.

Shit! She was stunning.

He smiled, despite his reservations. He’d always been a man who appreciated beauty in all its forms and it was hard not to appreciate this beauty.

‘Lexi, this is Daemon. Daemon, meet the best producer there is, AJ Denholm.’

Lexi shot Billy a quelling look before stepping forward. She stretched out her hand, her face giving away nothing as she looked at him. ‘You can call me Alexia. Or AJ.’

Obviously only family and friends were allowed to call her Lexi. He understood. But, somehow, he preferred Alexia for her anyway. It seemed a better fit for the reserved, yet sensual, woman in front of him.

Something inside him stirred, wanting nothing more than to break through that reserve. Smiling the smile the press called ‘irresistibly charming’, he met her gaze. ‘I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time.’ He took her hand, noticing how soft her skin was as her long, firm fingers curled around his palm. She had the calluses of someone who played a string instrument. As their hands clenched, he felt something akin to the pleasure that had thrummed through him the first time he’d picked up his Fender Stratocaster and played a riff. His fingers tightened around hers.