Unplugged: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (14 page)

Laurel dropped her gaze and cried a little, then
looked back up at me. “I know. I’m sorry. But I’m not going to do this to you…
not anymore.” She gestured limply toward my clenched fist that held the hard
drive.

I frowned at it, and then back at her. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

She waved again at my fist. “I’m not writing my story.
That video is yours to save yourself. I’m going to tell my editors I couldn’t
find anything, and you’re going to release this for yourself on your terms. No
one will know I was here. You’ll be safe. So will Kevin and the club.” She
licked her lips and looked at the river, then back at me. “I didn’t expect this
to happen, Noah. I didn’t expect to find…
you
. And I’m not going to
betray you like everyone else.” A pause. “Nothing would ever make me.”

Part of the panic in my mind died, hearing her words.
“Is that right? Miss Ambition, and you expect me to believe you’re giving up
this career move for me?”

Laurel nodded. “I promise,” she said. “No one else has
anything, and they never will. I’ll leave town, and you can forget that any of
this ever happened…” Her voice trailed off at the end of her sentence, too
overcome to finish.

Seeing her standing there, cold and crying, it amazed
me how strong the urge still was to take her in my arms and make it all go
away. I never wanted to see Laurel like this. But her confession changed
everything. What moments were real, now? Had she faked our passion, our
connection? Did she really show me her true self with those stories from her
younger days, or did she research those, too?

Yet part of my heart, it couldn’t keep the bitterness
alive, and laughed at me that I knew the truth—I knew the Laurel that I had
held in my arms, and in my bed, was really her.

But that didn’t mean I could forgive her for this. She
was the last ray of sunshine in my world, and now she was dashed against the
cold dark of the storm clouds like everything else.

Suddenly the rage was just too much to take. I looked
at Laurel for a few moments, watching her eyes as they begged me silently to
answer her. But I didn’t. I whirled without a word and stalked up the
beachfront until I was in my truck.

As soon as it roared to life, I took off for the
highway, leaving Laurel behind me.

~ EIGHTEEN ~

Laurel

After
Noah left me on the beach, I spent two days in the hotel bed, only getting up
to answer the door for room service or make use of the facilities. I slept so
hard the first day, I didn’t bother to plug in my phone. When it finally came
back to life on the second, there was a giant list of messages from Steve,
demanding I explain the e-mail I had sent him before I met with Noah. The
messages grew less angry and more worried as the hours had passed, until
finally the last one said,
Do not kill yourself in a tacky Seattle hotel. That’s
so grunge and you’re better than that.

I texted him to tell him I was fine, but to leave me
alone another day. After making damn sure I didn’t have a single text or missed
call from Noah—which, of course, I didn’t—I shut the phone off again and left
it ignored on the bedside table.

Hours passed blankly as I stared at the TV, barely even
caring enough to change the channel when something shit came on the air. The
only thing I cared to see was news that Noah had released the video and that
everything would be okay for him. It was the only good thing that was going to
come out of this garbage fire of a life decision I had made.

I fell in and out of sleep, and picked at the room
service food when I got hungry. The minibar was toast. I was determined to
spend every last dime cleared by the magazine for my expense account before
they fired me for losing this story.

My dreams were of Noah. I could smell him on the beach
as clear as day. I could feel the firm contours of his muscles under the palm
of my hands, and his soft lips on mine.

After two days of depressed wallowing, I found the strength
to drag myself to the shower and clean up the hotel room. On my invitation,
Steve met me downstairs in the hotel lobby for breakfast at the complimentary
buffet. We grabbed a table in the corner, away from the smattering of tourist
families and old timers traveling cross-country who got up with the sun.

Steve looked more worried than mad as he shook salt
and pepper over his eggs and said my name with a sigh. “Are you all right? You
look like hell.”

“I’ll live,” I said, even though I felt exactly the
opposite of that. “But you wanted to talk about the email, so let’s talk.”

“Let’s talk about what’s going on with you, first.
What the hell?”

“Look, you were right,” I said, leaning back in my
chair. I couldn’t look at him as I shook my head. “You were right. I was… I
am
in love with Noah. I fucked up and I got too close.”

The snarky reply I braced for didn’t come. Steve only
watched me with curious, sort of sad eyes. “I was just trying to give you shit.
I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed for having feelings for someone.”

Raising a hand, I said, “It’s not that. I just want
you to understand why I did what I did with the video. Yes, it was a huge loss
for both of us and our careers. I know that, and I’m sorry. I don’t have any
excuse for it.” I shrugged and poked at the food on my plate with my fork. “The
moment came and I couldn’t do it to him. Even if it was going to save him at
the same time, I couldn’t also exploit him… couldn’t unearth and give to the
public everything he’s tried to keep for himself, just so I could make some
tiny gain in my bullshit career.”

Disappointment was apparent on Steve’s expression, but
so was something else. His mouth pursed in the corner and he put down his fork.
He reached a hand across the table and held it out until I took it. “He didn’t
take it well when you blew your cover, did he?”

I shook my head. Steve’s image began to blur in my
eyes. “No. Not that he should have.”

Steve squeezed my hand. I used my other to fumble for
a napkin and wipe my eyes.

“I just wish you had come to me before you did this,
that’s all. I thought we were in this together. Maybe together we could have
found another way.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. It is on the long list
of unprofessional behavior that is probably going to end my career once we get
home.”

“You’re just human,” said Steve as he squeezed my hand
once more and released it. “And even if we didn’t get the scoop, you did save
an innocent guy from getting sent to prison. That’s a good day for any
journalist, Laurel.”

I guess he wasn’t wrong there. I would always hold
that action close to my heart as one to be proud of. “Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, but only because you’re going to owe me a
massive,
Godfather
-sized favor in the future. I’m talking, like, disposing-of-a-body
massive.”

I wasn’t joking when I said, “Deal, Steve. Anything.”

“And, of course, you have to be the one to call
Domino.”

I sighed and stared at the waffles on my plate that
were slowly getting cold. “Yeah, I know. Let me have my goddamn breakfast first
so I can have something to throw up afterwards.”

“I don’t understand. When I talked to Steve a few days
ago, he said you were both onto something… and I quote, ‘bombshell as fuck.’
Was Steve just blowing his load too early?”

My editor, Domino Baptiste, was a beautiful woman from
the West Indies who worked her way up through the East Coast punk scene during
a time when both women and black people were not nearly as welcome. There was
no fucking with her. Not that I’d want to—I respected Domino and used her as a
template for what I wanted to become. But I had failed that template, and
myself. I didn’t realize until I heard her voice over the line how deeply it
was going to cut me to disappoint her.

This was all a fancy way of saying I couldn’t keep my
tears in my eyes as I told her I didn’t have the story I had promised her. My
voice stayed even though sheer determination, so maybe she couldn’t hear my
pathetic crying, but it was happening regardless.

“No,” I said. “No, this isn’t on Steve, he was only
following the information I got. This isn’t his fault.”

“So this is your fault? What happened, Laurel? The
fire under your ass in your pitch meeting wasn’t a lie. You were hungry for
this.”

“I was. And please believe me when I say I did
everything I possibly could to get to that information I needed. But it was
just… beyond me.”

Domino hummed into the phone, a sound she made when
she wasn’t buying what I was selling. “Nothing’s beyond you, Laurel. The Tusk
story was a disaster, but it wasn’t because you lack ability; it was because
you didn’t use your abilities properly. Is that what’s happening here?”

I didn’t know what to tell her. Already confessing the
truth to Steve had drained me. How could I tell my mentor why I failed? “I
don’t know, Domino. I just know this story isn’t… it’s not happening like I
thought. And I’m sorry. I fucked this up.”

“And you’re sure you can’t find any way to salvage it?
The mag will pay for more time out there, if that’s what it takes.”

“No,” I said immediately, shutting my eyes as I did.
“No, this can’t be salvaged.”

Domino was quiet for a moment. She had to have known
there was something I wasn’t telling her. “We’ll talk about all this when you
get back into town. How long do you need to wrap things up there?”

I need to stay forever
,
said one part of me.
I want to be teleported out of here immediately,
said the other. The idea of having even just one extra day to try and get in
contact with Noah and soothe the deep pain in my heart was intoxicating, but
fortunately, I was at least mature enough to recognize what a mistake that
would be. Noah had made it very clear at the beach how he felt, and hadn’t
contacted me since. I was the invading force, here—the conquistador who came to
pillage for my own benefit. I had no right to demand his response. And I loved
him too much to disrespect him that way.

It was over. The white flags had to be raised.

“I can be ready to fly home tonight.”

~ NINETEEN ~

Noah

This
would be the last time I sat around this conference table—or any table—with
these men, and I knew that now in my heart. On the far side, away from Quinn
and I, sat the three I had thought were my brothers. Or in the case of Duke, at
least an ally with a mutual goal I could count on to protect the band when
things got dark.

But I was wrong about all of them. And now they would
pay for it.

Gavin stood at the head of the table near the windows.
The day outside was fitting for my mood: completely gray-black with swirling
violent skies keeping out the light. As Gavin fumbled with the TV display and
the DVD I had given him, I watched the skies churn and ignored everyone in the
room. Unlike previous meetings, the feeling of having Duke so close just slid by
me like water off a duck’s back now. This was over, and I had the victory. He
didn’t have any power over me anymore.

The pain in my heart came from a different place now.
The spot that held my band was beginning its mourning period, something it was
well practiced at, even if this one would be the toughest. But the deep, bright
place that Laurel had burrowed into didn’t have the same kind of experience
with darkness, and every beat sent fresh waves of ache through my muscles. And
that pain was greater than anything Duke could have ever done to me.

After a moment, Gavin got the equipment working.
Before he played the DVD, he turned to the assembled table. “As you all know,
Noah’s asked us here today because he has something important related to his
case to show us, and he wanted us to be the first. Noah, do you want to say
anything before we get this going?”

I shook my head, and didn’t move my gaze from the
window. “Just play the damn thing.”

Gavin didn’t reply, only followed my instructions. The
men stared at the looped video from a front-row attendee. They watched the
soon-to-be-dead man creep his way past the security guards, whose attentions
were focused on the crowd per their job instructions, watching for surfers or
anybody potentially getting crushed by the mob. They were used to photographers
moving behind their backs in the pit all the time. As mad as I wanted to be at
them, the video only made it apparent that it was a tragic mistake, a perfect
storm of bad timing.

The man crawled up onto the stage, and that was when
fans in the front row started pointing. One of the security guards finally
turned and saw him, but would never move fast enough to catch him. The fan
doing the recording had a perfect angle when he got to his feet and began to
advance on Quinn, who was shredding with his eyes closed up against his amp
during a solo.

In the man’s hand, a five-inch blade glinted under the
stage lights like a Roman candle, clear as day. Everyone in the room started
muttering to themselves.

“I
told
you motherfuckers!” yelled Quinn
immediately at the men across the table. “I
told
you Noah didn’t
bullshit about that knife!”

Gavin stood, staring at the TV with his jaw hanging
open, completely shocked. “This is a fuckin’ miracle.”

Jeff and Ash both had hollow, pale looks on their
faces, like they’d been caught telling a massive lie. Duke just stared at the
TV as the video looped again, his face a still sheet of quiet anger and some
other emotion I couldn’t quite place. Maybe he wasn’t a complete monster—maybe
part of him was just now realizing how he’d thrown a good man overboard.

“We have to get this to the DA and the press
immediately!” said Gavin. He put a finger to the Bluetooth headset on his ear,
connected to his assistant in her office. “Shelly, can you get—”

“No, wait,” I said, raising a hand. “Just wait,
please.”

Gavin froze. “Standby please.” He clicked the receiver
off. “What are we waiting for?”

“We can get this to the DA, but do it quietly. I don’t
want the press to find out yet.”

Both Quinn and Gavin stared at me with wide,
questioning eyes. “Noah, why? This is going to fix everything! The band!” said
Quinn.

“Fuck this band,” I said with a laugh, and pointed
over to the three on the other side of the table. “I don’t trust these assholes
as far as I can throw them. I’m not gonna make music with a bunch of cowardly
fucks who can’t even stand by their brothers. We can make something new, Quinn.
I just wanted to see the looks on their faces when they realized the truth.
Figured I earned it.”

Ash and Jeff leaned around Duke to exchange glances
with each other. Jeff tried to sputter at me, “Noah, we… look, we’re sorry. We
were just trying to look out for ourselves and our families.”

“Yeah, and what the fuck was I doing?” said Noah.
“What about
my
life? My family?”

“
What
family?” muttered Ash, bitterly.

That one actually stung. I looked him in the eyes and
said, “Fuck you, Ash.”

With nothing left to keep him here, Ash flipped me the
bird and got up out of his chair. He yelled at Gavin that his lawyer would be
in touch and stomped out of the room. A few moments later, Jeff got up with far
less drama, a pathetic stoop to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Noah. I should have stood by you,” said
Jeff as he patted the top of the chair at the head of the table. I couldn’t
look at him, but he didn’t wait for it, or for a reply. He gave an awkward wave
to Quinn and Gavin and left the room.

I was surprised Duke was the last to go, allowing
himself to be outnumbered in the room. He typically stuck to situations where
he had the advantage. But the video seemed to have thrown him off his game just
a bit.

None of us had anything to say to him. Quinn just
stared, arms crossed, glaring. Convinced the air in the room wasn’t one of
violence, Gavin turned back and watched the loop again and again, shaking his
head in amazement every time the shot of the knife appeared.

Finally Duke pushed his chair back from the table and
rose to his feet. He watched the video loop one more time and started for the
door.

“Cat got your tongue, dickwad?” said Quinn to his
back.

Duke stopped. He turned his head just a little bit.
“I’m glad you’re not going to prison, Hardy.” Nothing in his voice was
malicious or sarcastic. It was just that dark, southern drawl that belonged to him
on the nights in the bus, in the middle of nowhere, when he finally had his
guard down and was just a dude that loved playing guitar.

I let him sweat for a moment before I said, “Thanks.”

Duke left the room. It was the last time we would ever
speak to each other.

“Seriously though, Noah,” said Gavin as he switched
off the TV, finally satisfied. “What is your plan, here? I’m having trouble
wrapping my head around why we don’t email this video to every major media outlet
right fucking now.”

“Because I’ve already got plans for getting it to the
press; I just need you guys to chill and let me get it finished.”

“Noah,” said Gavin, worried. “What is this plan? You
should really let me take a look, I don’t want anything to happen that might—”

“That might what, Gavin? Fuck up the band’s future?” I
laughed. It actually felt like a real laugh, for the first time in a while. The
bitterness in my heart could never outweigh the feeling of freedom from knowing
the truth was out. “Cut Up Angels had a great run, but we’re done. You don’t
need to protect us anymore.”

“You’re all still my clients, and you two are my
friends. I’ve protected you since you were kids. I’m not about to stop now,” he
said with a shake of his head.

“The other guys can do their own interviews and fight
me if they really want to, once it’s all out. I don’t care. They can’t stop me
now. And you can protect whatever it is Quinn and I decide to do next… after a
serious fucking vacation.”

“Oh, good God,” said Quinn with an exasperated sigh.
“I didn’t even think of that… Fuck, I’m taking the old lady to Maui.”

That made me smile. I leaned over and patted Quinn on
the shoulder and gave him a big smile. For the first time in weeks, his eyes were
clear and bright. “Thanks for sticking by me, bro.”

“Don’t get all fucking mushy with me,” said Quinn with
a laugh. “We established this a long time ago, man: where you battle, I
battle.”

“Just tell me I have the trust of both of you about
this,” I said, glancing at each of them in turn. “Trust me you’ll let me get
this out my way and be okay with it.”

Quinn and Gavin looked at each other, and then back at
me, each of them nodding. “We trust you,” said Quinn.

“And you know we have your back if you wind up needing
it,” added Gavin. “I’ll get this to the DA within the hour and tell them to
keep quiet about it.”

Another wave of relief washed over me and I smiled at
them. “Thanks, guys. I need that strength today.”

“Why, what is it you’re going to do?” Quinn asked as I
got up from my chair.

With a sigh, I said, “Maybe the dumbest thing I’ve
ever done. But I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.”