Vintage Volume Two (3 page)

four

My dad was tearing apart the room looking for my journal when Parker walked back in about a half an hour after he’d left. I was leaning against the headboard, my knees drawn up to my chest, staring into thin air as a dark depression started to hit me. George was tapping away on his phone.

“I brought you a present,” Parker said, his eyes gleaming and a smile on his face. He held two bags in his hands. One was a brown paper bag, and the other was a white plastic bag.

He held out the white bag to me. The word
Walgreens
advertised the store in bright red letters.

I took it from him. It was heavy.

I peered inside, and then my eyes darted back to his. His were twinkling at me, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face even in the midst of this dire situation.

Somehow Parker instinctively knew how to make everything better.

I pulled out a purple toothbrush, a brand new tube of Crest, and an assortment of make-up. It looked like he wasn’t sure what to get, so he just bought one of everything. He had also bought me lotion, facial cleanser, shampoo, and conditioner.

I stood up and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you,” I whispered, kissing his cheek.

“Go use that new toothbrush, babe,” he said, and I giggled.

I followed his orders, and when I exited the bathroom, the room was back in order. My dad and George had left. Parker had locked both the deadbolt and the swing lock on the door. I glanced around. If I didn’t just walk into the mess an hour earlier, I would never have known what had happened.

Parker smiled at me and pointed over to the table by the window. He’d lit a candle and set out a bowl of soup and a Sierra Mist.

“I would’ve gotten you a Coke, but my mom always told me that Sierra Mist settles an upset stomach.”

I
almost
cried. I remembered not all that long ago when I’d ceased to feel anything at all.

And now I had these emotions darting at me from every direction, whirling through me and mixing me up.

Fear, love, hate, peace, thanks, regret, loneliness, sadness, happiness, gratitude, pain.

They had once sat on a bookshelf of emotions gathering dust. I had refused to access them. I shut them off and shut them out.

And now I felt all of them at once.

But most especially, I felt the love and peace that Parker brought to my chaotic life.

I sat at the table and forced down some of the broth from the chicken soup he’d brought me. “Did you finish checking through your things?” he asked.

I nodded. “My journal is missing.”

“Your journal? I didn’t know you write.”

I blew on another steaming spoonful of soup. “Therapy.”

“I started writing for the same reason. Only my writing turned into lyrics.”

“Mine will never turn into anything,” I said firmly. “It’s really just snippets of things that hit me. I once lost someone close to me, and writing was a recommended way of dealing with the loss.”

“Damien?” he guessed.

I shook my head.

“Who else did you lose, Jimi?” His voice was soft. He’d set an intimate tone, a quiet confessional to make me feel comfortable.

I stared down at my bowl of soup, contemplating. I was pretty sure we were past the pretenses. I was pretty sure it was okay to let him in after everything we’d been through.

I was pretty sure that I wanted to confess everything about my past to him—why I felt like I had a dark shadow that followed me, why I felt like he had no chance against the darkness that surrounded me.

Why I was terrified that he’d be the third loss of my life.

I blew on another hot spoonful of soup. I shoved it into my mouth. I glanced up at him. He was staring at some fixed spot on the table. And then, I finally answered his question. “My best friend.”

His eyes darted to mine, full of sympathy. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

I took a deep breath. I hadn’t had to tell this story to many people, but it never got easier. I let out my breath before I spoke. “She was a freshman in college. She was four years older than me, and she was like an older sister to me. My dad and her dad were—are—best friends. She was brutally murdered by her boyfriend.”

“Mikey’s daughter?” His voice was flat. I nodded as I wondered what he was thinking.

I stared at the same spot on the table where Parker had focused, unable to move my eyes, unable to think or to concentrate on anything else. I needed his words. I needed his perspective.

People always say “I’m sorry for your loss” when someone dies. I heard that probably three hundred times from when Fern and I had first learned that Katie had been killed until her funeral, and even beyond that through the trial.

I wasn’t sure what anybody was apologizing for. Those apologizing to me didn’t kill her. The only one who I wanted an apology from was locked up in prison and would be for a very long time. And I knew I’d never get the apology from him.

It wouldn’t bring her back, anyway.

I wished I could express all of that to Parker, but I couldn’t seem to form the words around the lump in my throat and the sadness I still held in my heart. I missed Katie every single day. Time made it easier to deal with the loss, but it certainly didn’t ease the pain.

“I wish I had the words that could take your pain away, Roxanna. I write words for a living, but nothing I say could ever change your tragedy.”

I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and sincere when they met mine.

Of all of the things he could have said in that moment, I hadn’t expected that. I wanted to leap out of my chair and hug him for saying the exact right words to me, which was ironic, considering he said he didn’t have the right words.

They were perfect.

He was perfect.

And his words only told me that he’d been through an equally painful loss in his own life. He’d lost someone who he loved, too.

The only way you become better at dealing with tragedy is by living through it.

My eyes moved away from his, and I focused on my bowl of soup again. “Life is just a series of tragedies,” I finally said.

“That’s pretty cynical for a girl full of so much light.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I respectfully disagree. Life is pleasure occasionally interrupted by shit. How you deal with the shit is what shapes your character. You experience, you grow, and you move on. You never forget. You never stop loving. But you learn to live your new reality. You learn to find pleasure in the ordinary and you learn to appreciate the good because you’ve had the luck to experience it after a tragedy.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

He stared into the candle on the table, as if in a brief trance. The light flickered in his eyes. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to tell me things, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready.

I hadn’t been ready, either, but I had told him anyway.

“Who did you lose?” I asked.

His eyes flicked from the tiny flame atop the candle up to my eyes.

“I’ve lost a lot in my life. I’ve lost jobs and I’ve lost homes and I’ve lost family. I’ve lost people I care about and I’ve lost people I could’ve done without in the first place. But one thing I can promise you is that I will never, ever lose you.”

I glanced down from the fire in his eyes to the ring on my finger.

I couldn’t help but wonder.

This was all brand new, but about a million “what-if” questions popped into my head.

What if I didn’t want to fake an engagement?

What if he didn’t either?

But what if he did?

What if I wanted it to be real?

What if his promise that he’d never lose me was sincere?

What if it wasn’t?

Only time could answer any of those questions, and tonight wasn’t the night for that.

My eyes met his once again. “I won’t lose you, either,” I said, my voice fierce despite my physical weakness after the rough night we’d shared.

five

Days passed in a haze of concerts and tightened security. Somewhere along the way I’d moved from the personal assistant to Gideon Price to the traveling fiancée of Parker James. I was still assisting as much as I could, but George had taken on the majority of my duties so that I could stay glued to Parker’s side.

I didn’t hate the extra time around Parker.

I had to admit that Roxanna Cecelia James had a nice ring to it. Roxy James.

If I had my journal, I’d be practicing my signature. But it was still missing.

I had to constantly remind myself that this was a fake engagement, a sham, something simply to throw Randy off of our trail so that he’d leave Parker alone.

But it felt real. The way Parker tended to my every need despite the fact that this tour was a huge break for his band showed me how sincere he was in his feelings for me.

Every time I brushed my teeth with my new purple toothbrush, my eyes filled with tears. It was a silly thing to cry over, but it was one of those things that showed me what kind of future I’d have if we really did get married someday. He’d go out to buy me a toothbrush at any time of the night just to make sure I was comfortable.

The insecure part of my brain told me that maybe he just didn’t want to smell my breath after I’d thrown up. I hushed down that part of my brain and focused on the feel of Parker’s warmth that seemed to surround me wherever I was, regardless of whether we were together.

I still hated that I hadn’t been informed about the surprise engagement ahead of time, but the past couldn’t be changed. I knew that better than anyone. And after the way my dad and Parker had united together to ensure my safety, I had a hard time staying mad at either of them. I was terrified of what potentially lay out there where Randy was concerned, so my choices were pretty limited. I could hold a grudge and continue to be angry with both of them, or I could get over it and try to enjoy the time we had left on tour.

After Raleigh, the tour took us through Charlotte, Atlanta, Nashville, and St. Louis before we had a two-night engagement in Chicago. We were past the midway point of the tour, and while I constantly felt Randy’s threatening presence surrounding us, I felt the safety of the bubble created by Parker, my dad, and my dad’s security team.

It wasn’t until we arrived in Chicago that something happened again.

And it proved my hunch had been right.

Parker was originally from Chicago. We were slated to spend four nights in Chicago, two of which were performance nights. It was big venue and always drew a huge crowd.

We were driving up from St. Louis after the show when Parker asked me a question. We were lying in the bed in the back of the bus together. It was about a five hour drive from St. Louis to Chicago, and Parker’s exhaustion was starting to show. In these quiet moments we had together, the down time, he spent more time sleeping than anything else.

I didn’t mind. It was peaceful to watch him sleep soundly beside me. And I knew the only moments of peace he allowed himself were when he knew I was safely by his side.

He’d been essentially working double duty for months, focusing on his band’s rising success while simultaneously working as my personal security guard.

We were both nearly asleep when his question slipped out.

“Can I take you home to meet my sister?”

“Of course. I’d love to meet her.” I’d immediately replied, but about a million questions darted through my head instantaneously.

For starters, why was he taking me home to meet his sister and not his parents?

That only led to more questions. Where were his parents? Why had he never told me about them? Why didn’t he want me to meet them? Were they still around? Were they married? Divorced?

I could’ve gone on and on, but the only person who could answer those questions was Parker. And almost as soon as I had answered his question, his breathing had evened out. He was asleep, and I was wide awake considering his question and every little silent meaning that was behind it.

We awoke on the bus in Chicago. The buses were parked behind the Allstate Arena. Black Shadow always had a deal with each venue to arrive a day early for set-up, although the crew had it down to a science. It wasn’t necessary, but it was cautionary. Since they’d been together for as long as they had, Black Shadow knew how to run a tour.

I had a text from my dad that said George was ready to take us wherever we wanted to go. Parker said he had some plans for us for our one free day in the Windy City.

And apparently that included meeting his sister.

We stepped off of the bus into a nice, seventy-five degree day. “This isn’t typical for Chicago. Usually it’s raining or more humid than hell,” Parker said with a smirk as he helped me into the back of the car George had already managed to procure to drive us around for the day.

I knew my dad was only being cautionary by keeping George with us, but I kind of wanted to explore Parker’s hometown with just Parker. I didn’t want a third wheel hanging around.

And then I thought about Keith and Vanessa. They’d gone out in New York, just the two of them, and the results had been disastrous. I wasn’t willing to risk Parker’s safety for a frivolous non-chaperoned tour of Chicago.

It made me wonder how long this was going to go on and when just the two of us would ever be able to go out alone.

Parker gave George directions, and then he joined me in the backseat. We traveled around for a half an hour or so. We passed a Hard Rock Café, and then George pulled around another corner and parked the car. Parker grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the backseat, a boyish smile lighting up his face.

“Where are we going?” I asked, jogging to keep up with Parker’s fast pace as he dragged me around the corner.

“My favorite restaurant of all time,” he said.

I turned around and saw George walking at a clipped pace, his eyes scanning everything as he kept pace with the two of us.

I read the name on the outside of the restaurant: Portillo’s.

The music inside was fast-paced and the air smelled of greasy deliciousness. “What do you order?” I asked.

“They’re famous for their hotdogs, but I always get the Italian beef sandwich and fries. And the chocolate cake shake. It’s the best meal you will ever eat.”

“You just order for me. The best stuff on the menu, okay?”

Parker smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. I started to walk away, and he grabbed my elbow. “Where are you going?” he asked, the smile fading as panic took over.

“To the bathroom. Do you need to follow me there, too?”

He sighed. “No, but if I don’t, George will.”

“Parker, I’m right here. We’re in the same restaurant. Nothing bad is going to happen. I just have to pee.” I patted his arm, trying to be placating, but the panic didn’t leave his eyes.

If I ever had any doubt as to his feelings for me, that panicked look in his eyes would definitely have erased it. It would have been convincing enough to prove to me that he truly did care.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. I told Parker that nothing bad was going to happen, but something bad
did
happen.

My phone started ringing as I was washing my hands. My hands were too wet to answer, so the call went to voicemail. As I dried my hands under the blower, my phone started ringing again.

I wiped my hands on my pants and grabbed my phone out of my pocket. It was my dad.

“Hey, Dad,” I answered.

“George doesn’t leave your side today, okay?”

I sighed in frustration. “How is this different from any other day?”

He ignored my question. “I found your journal.” He paused, and my heart sped up. He found it? Where the hell had it been? “It’ll be waiting for you with me in my room when you get here.”

“Where was it?” I leaned against the wall, glad the bathroom was empty during my conversation.

A few seconds of thick silence passed between us.

“Where, Dad?” I whispered, my hand gripping my phone tightly.

“In one of Jadyn’s bags.”

I slid down the wall until I felt the floor beneath my ass. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I knew it” didn’t seem appropriate. “I told you so” seemed even worse.

So instead I said nothing, trying to come to terms with the fact that I’d been betrayed by someone who was supposed to be on my side, someone who was supposed to be in my inner circle.

I didn’t know what else that meant. I didn’t know how bad the damage would be.

I knew that I couldn’t trust her from the very beginning. I just wasn’t sure what she would want with my journal.

What the hell was she up to?

My dad’s wedding day popped into my head. I’d forgotten that I’d overheard her in a whispered conversation in a secluded hallway, and suddenly now seemed like a good time to tell my dad.

My dad broke the silence stretching between us. “We don’t know how it got there—”

I cut him off. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘We don’t know how it got there.’ You say that like she didn’t do it.”

He sighed audibly over the phone. “I don’t think she did, CC.”

“My fucking journal was in her bag and you don’t think she took it?” I stood from my position on the floor, anger fueling my thoughts. “Do you think it just grew legs and magically walked over there to make it look like she did it?”

“I don’t know what happened. I just wanted you to know that I found it.”

“Do me a favor and don’t read it. And don’t trust that bitch you married.”

“Hey,” he said sharply. “You don’t know her. At all. You haven’t bothered to give her the time of day and you don’t reserve the right to call her a bitch.”

“You know she was sneaking around on your wedding day? You know she was whispering to some man I don’t know that she’d be in touch with him? Maybe I don’t know her, Dad, but you need to watch yourself around her. Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do.”

He sighed heavily but didn’t respond to my accusations. “I’ll figure out what happened.”

“Whatever.” I hung up. He called back, but I had nothing further to say to him. He didn’t leave a voicemail.

My dad was one of my best friends in the world. He was my rock. I depended on him.

But lately, my relationship with him felt an awful lot like a series of letdowns.

Parker had become my new rock. While no one could ever replace my dad, Parker had become the one man who I depended on the most.

While they’d both let me down, I knew they both loved me.

But the betrayal of my dad choosing Jadyn’s side over mine when the evidence stared him in the face was a little too much for me.