The Rocker That Holds Her (The Rocker...) (2 page)

Record Deal

Sweat was pouring down my back. My face and hair felt like I had dunked it in a bucket of water it was so drenched with it. I always gave each performance a hundred and ten percent no matter where we were playing. Lately we had been doing more and more bars. The owners loved it when Demon’s Wings did a live set for them. We always brought in a crowd for them, and more often than not they would end up having to turn people away, or put a bouncer at the door to make sure that the place didn’t get a fine from the fire marshal for being over capacity.

I used the towel Drake tossed at me and wiped my face. I was exhausted. Not only was this my night gig, but I was working day shift to help out my mom now that she had been diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s. The last doctor’s visit hadn’t been a good one, and he was even talking about assisted living in the near future. I knew he was right on some level but hated to think that the woman who had dedicated her life to making mine better was losing her mind.

A strong hand landed on my shoulder. Jesse slapped me on the back, and I grunted under the force. “Good set, bro.”

I could only nod my thanks as I downed a bottle of water. My throat was a little sore, and I didn’t want to waste what little voice I still had by talking just yet.

“You boys have a gift!”

The voice was one I didn’t recognize, and I raised my head to find a guy in a suit standing on the steps that led backstage. He looked like a dick, but he also looked like my salvation. I knew who he was, had heard through the vine that a rock manager was looking for some new talent to pimp. Rich Branson had signed the hottest rock band on the radio just a year or so ago with OtherWorld.

Three beers and a bunch of handshakes later we had a deal—a shitload of money and the life I had always dreamed of was offered to me and my three best friends. I wouldn’t have to bust my ass to pay for the bills and the treatment my mom needed.

It also meant that we were leaving in a week and we couldn’t take Emmie with us. We all knew that with the money we were being offered we could easily take care of Emmie. Send her money, get her the things she needed that her mother didn’t ever supply, but we couldn’t exactly take care of her from California. And that was exactly where we were headed.

We all got wasted that night as guilt for what we were about to do churned in our guts.

Saying Goodbye

I couldn’t even look at her as all of us stood in the yard that separated my trailer from Emmie’s. 

I knew this was going to be hard, but I never, ever imagined it would be like this! We had been busy making arrangements all week: making sure that Emmie had enough money and that it was hidden from her mother; getting her a phone so she could talk to us every day; finding the right person that was trustworthy and paying them out the ass to make sure that Emmie was okay while we were so far away.

Drake and Shane had already said their good-byes. Each had hugged her hard and long, telling her that they loved her and would talk to her soon. Now Jesse had her in his arms, rocking her as she sobbed into his chest. Each shake of her body was like a twist of a dagger in my chest. I hadn’t seen my little baby doll cry in years, so those tears and broken sobs made direct hits to my heart.

Jesse was having a hard time controlling his own tears. He was more protective of Emmie than even I was. One look at her baby doll face and he had been helpless as she wrapped herself around his heart. “I’ll call you every night,” Jesse promised again, for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. “If you need me I’ll be on the first plane back.”

Emmie just nodded her auburn head, unable to speak through her sobs.

He held on a few minutes more. Finally, he unwrapped her from the tangled hold she had on him. With a tortured look, he kissed her forehead and turned away, not allowing Emmie to see the tears streaming down his face.

My little baby doll just stood there, shoulders trembling as she watched Jesse walk away through her tears. Emmie had grown up a lot in the six years since I had first met her. She might only be eleven now, but she had an old soul. After living the life she had, seeing things that no human being should ever have to see—let alone a child—she was beyond mature for her age.

I wasn’t as strong as my friends. I knew that as soon as I hugged her I wasn’t going to be able to get on the plane. Instead, I kissed her cheek and whispered, “Bye, baby doll,” before following Jesse.

My heart broke in my chest when her sobs stopped. I knew then that not hugging her good-bye had been a mistake. I knew that she thought I was abandoning her, but there was nothing I could do about it. In that moment I was worried more about my sanity than her hurt feelings.

The next weeks were busy. I had meetings with the record labels to sign contracts and start my rocker life. On top of that I was looking for the best assisted living facility that money could pay for. I wanted my mom on the West Coast with me so I could keep an eye on her in between the tours that Rich Branson had already committed us to.

Each night after dinner the guys and I would call Emmie. She talked and talked and talked to Drake, Shane, and Jesse. But when it was my turn to chat I got cold, monosyllable answers. Was school going well?
Yes.
Was her mom treating her ok?
Yes.
Did she need anything?
No.
I felt like I was being stabbed repeatedly each night. When I found out that she was calling the others several times a day, it was another stab to the heart. The few times I had tried to call her in the middle of the day, I had only gotten her voice mail.

By the time our first tour started I had things with my mom sorted out. She was living at one of the best facilities in the country and she seemed happy there. Her condition had seemed to worsen since we had gotten to California, and there were days that she didn’t even recognize me when I went to visit her.

Stressed out, feeling heartbroken over my mom and the way Emmie was treating me, I started drinking. Not as much as Drake, but I was catching up. I felt angry all the time, lost and lonely more often than not. This was the life I had always wanted. The rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle that I had dreamed about for so long. I had a huge bank account, girls dropping their panties for me every night, fame, and best of all people were listening to
my
music.

So why wasn’t I happy?

Going Home

“Good night, Cleveland!”

I tried not to roll my eyes as Axton Cage stepped off the stage with a handful of roses, and even more panties.

For the last three months we had been touring with OtherWorld. We were both headliners, and with each new city, we switched who would end the show. Since Cleveland was so close to our hometown, we were closing it out tonight. Of course that didn’t stop Axton and me from betting who could get the best reaction from the crowd.

I had to give it to the man, he could rock hard. But I knew I was better, knew that I would get the crowd going more than he had. He stopped beside me as he left the stage, a bottle of water in his free hand, twirling a lacy black thong on his index finger. “Top that, fucker.”

The thing about Axton was you either liked him or hated him. There was no in between with him. Lucky for him I happened to like the jerk, otherwise I might have already put my fist in his face and made him swallow some of those pearly whites in that perfect smile of his. But sharing one tour bus between the two bands on this tour had left us all as friends in the short time we had been on the road together.

So I grinned at my new friend. “Oh, I plan on it.”

Axton dropped his pile of flowers and underwear and opened his water. “Yeah, I figured you would.” He stood with me while the stage was turned from an OtherWorld wonderland to a Demon’s Wings nightmare theme. “There are a few hot ones in the front row. Maybe you’ll see something you like.”

I gritted my teeth. “Yeah, maybe.” But I doubted it. In the year since Demon’s Wings had left Ohio for the bright lights of California, I had grown tired of all the girls throwing themselves at me. I hated to admit it to anyone, myself included, but I was tired of this life I had dreamed of for most of my life.

Maybe it had something to do with not having Emmie in my life at the moment. The little baby doll that had been a huge part of my world wasn’t even speaking to me these days. I had hated the monosyllable conversations that we first had when I had moved away. Now I actually wished that I could even get that much out of her. I had to rely on Jesse, Drake, and Shane to fill me in on what was happening with her.

I was hoping when we went to visit her the next morning I could get her to forgive me. That she would see things from my point and understand why I hadn’t given her a proper good-bye all those months ago.

Halfway through our set I had the crowd chanting our name. I was in my element. The stage was littered with broken red roses, bras that had girls’ names and numbers on the inside cups, and panties. I had to admit that as tired as I was from all the other crap, I knew that I would never get bored with this. I loved performing for a live crowd, loved the reaction of the fans. Got high from the adrenaline rush it gave me.

My full attention was given to the song I was singing. Winking, blowing kisses to the girls in the front row that kept throwing me roses as I sang. Rinse and repeat. I saw nothing beyond that. So when Jesse suddenly stopped drumming right in the middle of our last song I nearly stumbled on the words.

Drake left me next, the guitar solo never coming, and I turned around to find that both he and Shane were running across the stage and heading straight for the crowd. Jesse was already in the masses, pushing his way through the now screaming fans as they tried to get to him. “Get the fuck off!” he bellowed and then he was on his knees.

That was when I saw her: thin little arms holding onto the big bald man; auburn hair flying back as Jesse stood with her in his arms; a dirty, tear stained, baby doll face.

The fans were going crazy, screaming for the guys to take the stage and finish the concert. Jesse didn’t respond to the group of guys standing close to him and cursing. Shane and Drake had reached Jesse now. They pushed two loud guys back when they tried to charge at Jesse.

I tossed my microphone away, no longer caring about finishing the set. Screw the crowd. All I wanted was to hold Emmie and find out if she was okay. Jumping down from the stage I pushed my way through a group of girls who screamed and tried to get hold of my shirt as I passed. The material tore, leaving a hole at the hem. Hands touched my face, their nails leaving scratches.

I snarled something unintelligible at the bitch who stood between me and the only girl that could ever touch my heart. The skank stepped back, as if I was about to hit her, and really I couldn’t be sure if I wouldn’t have.

Jesse turned to face me, his eyes wild, and I knew that something wasn’t right. I took Emmie from him, knowing that I was risking life and limb by doing so but not giving a fuck for either. All I wanted was to hold Emmie!

She stiffened in my arms. Big green eyes glared up at me, and I tried to tell her everything I couldn’t with my eyes as I tightened my hold on her. Our gazes locked for a moment in a battle of wills, one I prayed I would win.

My heart melted when she threw her little arms around my neck and sobbed. “Nik!”

I sighed, sure that I had been offered a pardon for all my crimes in her eyes, as I carried her away from the craziness of the crowd. Drake and Shane kept a path clear as Jesse brought up the rear, making sure that any disgruntled fans didn’t try to get to me and the precious bundle in my arms.

Axton and Rich were waiting on us when we reached backstage. Rich was spiting he was in such a rage. Axton just looked concerned. “What the hell, man? Is she okay?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jesse told Rich when he demanded we go back out on stage. “Get out of the way or I will move you.”

I combed my fingers through Emmie’s tangled hair, tried not to gag at the way the strands smelled of booze, smoke, and something else. “Just find me somewhere that we won’t be bothered.”

“Is she your sister or something?” Axton asked as he led the way down a narrow hall, searching random rooms for a place we could take Emmie.

“
Or something,” Shane muttered.

Finally we found a room with a couch. I pushed past Axton and sat with Emmie still clinging to my neck. Her sobs were shaking us both and it broke my heart. I grasped her shoulders and pulled her back enough so I could inspect her for any damage.

Her face was unharmed, except for the tear stains down her cheeks, but there were bruises on her neck, as if someone had tried to choke her. She was holding her arm a little awkwardly and I grasped it. She whimpered in pain as my fingers skimmed over her swollen wrist.

“
I think it’s broken,” I said quietly, trying not to frighten her.

Jesse muttered a curse. Shane left to find ice while I continued to examine Emmie, but other than the usual bruises, I couldn’t see that anything else was wrong. “What happened, Emmie? How did you even get here?” I asked quietly.

“I heard on the radio that you were going to be in Cleveland. I wanted to come see you guys, but Momma was high when I asked her… She pushed me against the wall and started choking me. I tried to push her off and she grabbed my wrist.” Her chin trembled. “I hitchhiked …”