Nobody Knows

Nobody Knows © Kyra Lennon 2014

E-edition published worldwide 2014 © Kyra Lennon

All rights reserved in all media. This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.

All characters and events featured in this book are entirely fictional and any resemblance to any person, organisation, place or thing is purely coincidental and completely unintentional.

Photo by Lindee Robinson Photography

Models: Chad Feyrer and Madison Wayne

Cover Designed by Najla Qamber Designs

www.najlaqamberdesigns.com

Acknowledgements

Whenever I get to this point of publishing, the part where I get to thank all the amazing people who have helped me – I feel humbled by the kindness of my friends who have taken time out of their day to read, make suggestions, answer my questions, and help me shape my novel into the masterpiece (I hope!) it was meant to be.

Nobody deserves a bigger thank you than the exceptional Jolene Perry and Morgan Shamy. Jo, your belief in this story from the time it was a bit of a mess up until now has kept me going. Kept me
believing
. In spite of your always busy schedule, you still found the time to read, critique and advise AND answer my panicky, rambly emails when I doubted everything I wrote. I stand by what I said to you – one day we will meet in person and you will get the biggest hug you have ever had! And Morgan, your enthusiasm (and lack of notes!) was a huge boost as I battled the usual last minute publication nerves. I admire both you and Jolene more than I can ever express.

To my other fabulous CPs and beta readers; Annalisa Crawford, Clare Dugmore, Cassie Mae, Leigh Covington, Molly Williams, Elizabeth Seckman and Nick Wilford – your input and support is always appreciated!

The wonderful ladies at Concierge Literary Promotions – you have all been truly fantastic, and I appreciate the hard work you put in to the launch of Nobody Knows.

Ker Dukey – for allowing Nobody Knows a little space in one of your fantastic books, I am truly honoured.

Natalie Vanstone – for naming my fictional band within roughly thirty seconds after I’d spent days obsessing over it! I should have come to you first, right? Love ya!

Next, I want to thank my Fozzy Family – because, hey, if you’re not rocking out with friends, what’s the point?

Annalisa, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met any of the people listed below. I’d still be sitting at home, wondering “what if?” Thank you for accompanying me on my first adventure in years. That day will always be one of my favourite days ever, and it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as much fun with anyone else.

Jess, I am so happy to have met you. I can always guarantee enormous amounts of laughter with you (and Jamie) – here’s to many more gigs and carveries! (Oh, and the occasional bout of singing in the street!)

Natalie, Jay, Harriet, Amy, Emma, Matt, Neil, Penny and Bob - I loved hanging out with you SO much!

Chris, Rich, Frank, Billy and Paul – I wrote this book several years before I ever met you, however, it was seeing you live and meeting you all in person that inspired me to dust it off and publish it. Thanks for being the most genuine, talented, kickass band on the planet – Love ya!

Dedication

To Mum (and Dad)

for showing me what’s important.

I wedged my foot into a small gap in the wooden fence that ran around my back garden. I was a little too short to see over the top, and had to climb to peek at the boys next door. As I clambered up, I heard the sound of my jeans ripping at the knee. It was worth it though.

Not bad for a girl.

A skinny boy of eleven with scruffy blond hair bounced a basketball, while his older brother, a chubby, black-haired fourteen-year-old, tried to tackle him.

“Come on, Drew,” the younger boy said, as he dribbled the ball just out of his brother’s reach. “Get it!”

“I would if you’d give me a chance.” Drew lunged forward, but not fast enough to stop his brother’s shot being thrown straight into the hoop.

“Okay, Jason.” Drew collected the bright orange basketball and threw it to his brother with a smile. “One more try. This time, I’m gonna get it.”

“You wish.”

Drew poised himself, waiting for an opportunity to tackle again. He followed Jason’s every move but still couldn’t get near. As he lunged for a second time, he tripped, crashed in to his brother, and they both fell into one of the rose bushes around the edge of their garden.

A giggle escaped my lips, then my eyes widened as the boys noticed me. In panic at being spotted, I let go of the fence and fell backwards into my own garden, landing with a soft thud on the grass.

“Are you okay?”

The two boys, who had no need to climb the fence to see, looked down at me.

I nodded, too shocked to move.

“What were you doing?” Drew asked. His forehead wrinkled up, making him look like an old man. I thought he might shout at me.

“I...”

“What’s your name?” Jason asked. His face was a lot friendlier.

“Ellie. My name is Ellie Hayes.”

“I’m Jason. This is Drew. Want to come and play basketball?”

“She’s too small to play with us,” Drew said. “She won’t reach the hoop.”

“You might be bigger than me, but you can’t reach it either,” I muttered.

Jason laughed, a sparkle appearing in his green eyes. “Come on over.”

Beaming, I ran to the gate, and he let me into his garden, where Drew sat hugging his knees on the wide steps leading down from the patio doors.

“Weren’t you supposed to check with your mummy first?” Drew asked, in a way that probably should have made me uncomfortable.

I watched him closely. His shoulders were hunched and his foot tapped impatiently; his dark eyes gazed into the distance.

“Ignore him,” Jason said. “Let’s play basketball!”

Instead of joining him, I continued to stare curiously at Drew. This boy wasn’t a mean teenager. Drew and Jason didn’t have a mum anymore. Maybe he was thinking about her. Maybe he was sad she got ill and went to live in heaven. If my mum wasn’t around, I would feel sad and sometimes say not very nice things to people too.

“Do you want to play?” I asked, softly.

Drew turned his head towards me, still with a wrinkle across his forehead.

“He does want to.” Jason picked up the basketball. “Drew, come on!”

After a moment or two, Drew visibly relaxed and stood up. “Okay, I’ll play.”

“For years he’s walked all over me, trying to get ahead. I snapped.”

Snap.

I rose from my chair and began pacing, unsure whether to keep listening or throw my Jimmy Choos at the tiny backstage monitor.

“But what about that particular moment triggered your anger?”
Danny Logan, the UK’s top TV interviewer questioned
. “You were live on television on New Year’s Eve and you had the crowd rocking. What caused you to turn on your brother like that?”

Drew Brooks shifted awkwardly under Danny’s stare. “
I saw him in front of me on the stage, getting all the glory, pretending he’s the one behind our music. I couldn’t take anymore. New Year was supposed to be a new start for us but he’s still the same arrogant, selfish b… person he’s always been.”

The sense of dread that had settled in my stomach since I found out this gimmick was going ahead had exploded into full-blown rage, and my temples throbbed with the tension. A few deep breaths eased the pain and I tuned out of the interview, unable to take anymore. I should have stayed at home, but no matter how much I hated this fabrication, I couldn’t say no when Drew asked me to go along for support.

That’s what best friends do, right?

The ten minutes before Drew entered the dressing room dragged on forever. When he stepped through the door sweat glistened on his face from the studio lights. My glare stopped him in his tracks. “I can’t believe you went through with that.”

“If I don’t do as I’m told, I don’t get paid.” Drew gave a half-hearted attempt at a grin. My lips remained in a tight, thin line, and he sighed. “Come on, Ellie. What was I supposed to do? Go on TV and admit this is all a lie?”

“It’s not all a lie, this stuff happened! This is your
life.
You can’t blurt out years’ worth of Jason’s issues as if they didn’t hurt you. This is dangerous, Drew.”

“You’re reading too much into it.” Drew tugged a towel out of his bag and wiped the sweat from his face with slightly more vigour than necessary. “You knew I’d be asked about him tonight. That was the plan, remember?”

“The plan is for Derek to get rich by using your past as entertainment.”

“If this works, we’ll all benefit. Derek will finally get paid for putting up with us, and we’ll get a real chance at making it in the music business.”

Razes Hell’s manager, Derek Richmond, was everything I hated. Not content with securing a much coveted spot on TV on New Year’s Eve for the boys, he had to take it a step further and create controversy.
“You’re in a rock band,”
he’d said.
“People expect this kind of explosive behaviour, and you have to give the people what they want.”
Instead of letting them make their mark on the music industry through their talent, he’d dragged them down to his sleazy, get-rich-quick level.

Bloody stupid Derek.

“I don’t care about Derek. I care about what this might do to you. When you were talking tonight… you didn’t make that stuff up. Do you honestly think Jason won’t see what I saw?”

“Why do you assume he watched?”

The the note of bitterness in Drew’s voice didn’t pass me by, and his tone only proved my point. Whether he realised or not, after one week of Derek’s scheme, Drew’s well-buried resentment about always being the one to clean up Jason’s messes had already risen to the surface. Although the New Year incident was as fake as a Page 3 model’s boobs, the Brooks brothers had more than their fair share of crap to throw at each other, and Drew had just flung his first handful.

“It was still a risk,” I said. “A stupid risk.”

“Well, maybe it’s my turn to be stupid. Maybe it’s my turn to be selfish.”

He shrugged off his shirt and pulled on a clean one. He’d actually dressed up for the occasion; he’d swapped his usual black t-shirts and jeans for… well… a black button-up shirt and jeans, but still, he’d made an effort.

My eyes lingered on his bare torso for a second. I tore my gaze away before I had chance to take in the light scattering of hair across his chest; his strong arms and his soft, slightly pudgy stomach that made his hugs infinitely more comfortable than being pressed against hard, ripped abs.