WILDER: A Rockstar Romance (15 page)

Chapter 32

Scarlett

I didn't sleep. It had only been a few nights, but already I was used to Keir's soothing bulk in the bed next to me. The empty space beside me felt as vast as the Grand Canyon, and I tried to fill it with all of the things I
should
have said to him.

I should have told him I loved him.

I should have said, "Keir, I love you. I never stopped loving you. I tried so hard to stop loving you because it wasn't fair to you to still love you after all this time. I tried to move on because I hoped you moved on. But I never did."

I should have said all of these things.

And then I should have told him about that day.
About the baby.

His baby.

Our baby.

I rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. We had an early morning call for the last push. Three nights back to back before the show in Buffalo. We'd be sleeping on the bus, no time to be alone. No time to drop this bombshell in his lap.

"What do you want, Keir?"

"Kids. A wife. A house. A son."

Guilt wracked me in a full body spasm, and I curled up tight, clenching my fists.
I will tell him,
I promised myself,
just as soon as we can be alone. He might hate me, but I will tell him. Everything.

****

We boarded the bus before the sun even rose. The interior already stank like coffee and last night's sweat as I stepped on, feeling like a prisoner awaiting execution. The courage that had gripped me in the dark of despair fled just as soon as I spotted Keir, slouched in his captain's chair with his face shoved firmly in a paperback. He didn't look up as I walked on. I dropped my laptop bag with a clatter and he still didn't look up, though Twitch nearly jumped out of his bunk in alarm.

Keir only scowled and turned his page.

As we pulled out of the lot, I pulled out my laptop and pecked ineffectually at the keys, but ended up deleting everything I "wrote" and opted for closing my eyes instead.

The sleep that eluded me last night caught up quickly this morning. The gentle rocking of the bus was soothing in its own odd way, and I had just started drowsing the miles away when I felt my phone vibrate in my purse next to me.

My heart leaped with relief when I saw the name on the screen. It would be good to hear a friendly voice. "Hey, baby," I yawned into the phone. "I've missed you!"

Zoe’s frantic voice cut through my drowsiness like a hot knife. "Scarlett, shit. Darlin', are you okay?"

I sat up straight. Zoe didn't get upset. It was not in her nature. "Yes," I said waveringly. "Of course I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

I looked out the window. I felt, rather than saw, Keir look at me. "I—I honestly have no idea. Maybe somewhere in Virginia? We're playing in D.C. tonight."

Zoe took a deep breath and then let it out. "Thank God," she breathed.

"Why? What's going on?"

I heard the grappling, scrabbling sound of her rustling papers and sitting down with a sigh. "I don't want you to be scared, but I’m here at your place. "

I was instantly on alert.
No. No. Why are you there? Get out.
"Why?" I asked as calmly as I could manage.

Zoe gave a strangled little laugh. "Good question. I was in the neighborhood for an interview, and I thought I'd pop by to check on it in the spirit of friendship and camaraderie and also maybe so I could guilt trip you into doing the same for me when my family goes to France for Christmas."

"Of course," I said automatically.

"And…" She took a breath. "The door was open, Scar."

I sat up straight. "It was?" I was confused. I had double-checked that it was locked at least three times, even gotten out of the Town Car one more time to be sure.

“Honey, the police just left. Someone broke in.”

I felt the breath leave my lungs with such force it was like someone had squeezed me tight.

"Who? Do they know who?" I heard myself saying.

But I knew. Of course I knew. These past weeks had worn down my guard, lulled me into forgetting what waited for me when I got back.

"It was Kevin, wasn't it?" I said.

Zoe made a small, frightened sound. "Scar, honey, if it was, he's gone a bit psycho."

"Why?"

She gave another shell-shocked laugh. "Well, 'cause the police didn't fucking believe me when I told them you wouldn't have left your place like that. It's trashed, honey. I'm so sorry. Rug's cut up, all these awful gouges in the cabinet."

"Well, of course I wouldn't have left it like that!" I shouted. My security deposit, all those furnishings I put on credit... "Why don't they believe you?"

Zoe hesitated.

"Zoe, tell me. Right now."

Her voice was small and frightened, and that was even scarier than the words she was saying. Zoe was never afraid. "No signs of forced entry, Scar."

All of the breath left my lungs. "What? How...?"

"No signs at all. They said whoever did it must have had a key." Her voice rose in a panic as my mind flashed to how? How? How? Did he sweet-talk my super? Did he swipe it from my desk and make a copy before he was canned? Oh shit, sometimes I left my purse in the drawer when I ran to the ladies room. Was it then? Was this my fault? It had to be my fault. I got so lazy sometimes, it totally would serve me right. Had he planned this all along? What was he hoping to find when he went into my apartment? Was he hoping to surprise me and...then what? What was he going to do to me once he was in there?

And then, just as quickly as these thoughts raced through my head, they were replaced with one bright red blaring warning sign.

He knows where I am.

He knows how to find me.

They flashed through my brain like a slideshow of carelessness. All the things I had in my apartment that pointed to where I was...
right now
. The confirmation numbers written neatly on the pad on my counter. The printed itinerary, the tour schedule.

"He has a key, Scarlett." Zoe's voice cut through my terror, repeating like the tolling of a distant bell. "He has a key."

He knows where I am.

He's coming.

Chapter 33

Keir

"Welcome Home, Wilder Boys!" the banner across the ballroom doorway screamed in the shittiest gothic font I'd ever seen.

Balzac crossed arms over his beefy chest and grunted in dissatisfaction. "Did you fuckers adopt me when I wasn't looking?"

"Guess I'll have to strap on my spare penis," Pepper drawled, cupping her groin and spitting over her shoulder.

Rane shook his head and laughed. "Okay, I'll go talk to Keith." He rolled his eyes.

I stared up at the banner. "That's…kind of a dick move," I observed. "Sorry, guys."

Playing our last show on this leg of the tour to a sold-out audience at Ralph Wilson Stadium—"The Ralph," as Twitch kept annoyingly referring to it, complete with mimed puke-faces—was wild enough. But now we were at the massive afterparty, and that was what made me feel like a real rock star. To be back home again, where it all started...fuck, I needed a beer before I started getting all emotional and shit.

I wished the radio station hadn't fucked up the banner, though. Ruthless was more than just me and Rane.

In seconds, Keith was at our side. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he shrilled, every syllable going higher in his vocal register. "It's this dumbass radio station, bunch of local yokels. I'll have them take it down, put up one with the actual band name."

"Nah, man." Twitch shook his head. "Give it to me. I'm gonna hang that shit in my living room back at home. I think it's pretty cool!" he enthused.

"You don't have to pretend, Twitch," I offered.

"I'm not pretending!"

"Then you're creepy," Pepper declared. "Maybe ask him for a lock of his hair next?"

I chuckled. "Sorry about this, guys. I'll buy this round."

"Like hell you are. I'm making sure they are paying for your drinks tonight." Keith coughed, then went over to yell at someone.

I looked back at the rest of the band and shrugged. "Hey, I tried?"

Insulting banners aside, WGRX put on one hell of a party. And though I didn't know anyone there, and parties in general tended to piss me off, I soon found the secret stash of Labatt Blue and began to make short work of them.

Over the sound system they were playing remixes of our big hits, and everyone in attendance seemed to be some sort of super fan. It was enough to make everything go to your head, having an entire room full of people sing along to your song, their eyes rolling back in their heads like they were undergoing some religious experience. Twice I had to slip out of the grasp of some overeager female fan. Overeager to either fuck me or devour me, I couldn't really tell the difference.

I looked up at one point, wondering if Scarlett was as uncomfortable as I was.

These past three days I had barely seen her. And when I did, she had her ear jammed against her phone. When she'd see me, her eyes would go wide and she would turn her back and walk away, out of earshot, her shoulders slumped under the weight of all of her secrets.

I knew she was here now. But she was nowhere to be seen.

And I was half-drunk and sick of her avoiding me.

"Have you seen Scar?" I nudged Twitch.

He pogoed in place, all six-foot-five of him, his scalp nearly scraping the ceiling. "I see her!" he yelled, drawing several odd glances. "She's on her phone, over in the corner there. By the coat check."

I thanked him and began elbowing and smiling my way through the throngs of people.

She lowered her phone and stared at it for a second, then startled when she saw me in front of her. I saw her eyes dart around like a trapped animal and I felt bad for a second. I had her backed into a literal corner, but somehow I knew this was the only way I was going to get her to talk to me.

"What going on with you?" I demanded.

I expected her to square off and start yelling at me. It's what we'd been doing this whole trip, honestly. Me badgering her for clarity, and her getting defensive. It was getting fucking old.

Instead, she sighed and shoved her phone into the pocket of her jeans, and once more I was struck by just how fucking beautiful she was. Her skin looked paler than it should be, the skin around her eyes drawn tight with fatigue. Or worry. I was seized with the need I always had. To take her worries, make them my own. I wanted to
fix
it just as much as I wanted to know what
it
was.

"A lot," she finally said. "A lot is going on."

I leaned against the wall. "Why don't you tell me? I bet I can help you."

She looked up, her mouth working, and for a second I thought she was going to spill it. Whatever it was, I could see it there on the tip of her tongue. "There's a lot of things you probably could help me with, Keir," she finally said. "But I've got this. It's behind me. Or, almost, anyway." She looked up at the deejay, the banners advertising Buffalo's Rock Station. "It doesn't bother you?"

"What doesn't?"

She gestured. "This. Being back here?"

"No."

"Lucky."

I licked my lips, feeling about two inches tall. I hadn't even thought of that, inviting her along on this tour. Never even considered how she would feel being back in our hometown. The memories it would stir. "Fuck," I said. "Your family... Are you okay?"

She lifted her chin. "They don't know I'm here, right? I can just pretend this is any other city and we're just passing through." But her lip wobbled a little, and she sagged. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm being an idiot."

My hands went out to catch her, to hold her. I hesitated for only a moment before the membrane of hurt that squeezed my heart tight finally burst, and I pulled her to me with a sigh.

"Let's go somewhere quiet," I told her, entwining my fingers in hers. The music thudded around us, but I knew what to do. "Hang on," I called to her, then caught Caleb's eye through the crowd and cocked my head. "Is there roof access?" I asked him when he came over.

"Sure thing, boss," he smiled, waggling his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes.

He spoke into his Bluetooth for a second, then nodded and led the way. Scarlett kept her head down but closed her fingers even more tightly around mine as we climbed a hidden set of fire stairs off the main ballroom. At the top was a heavy, nondescript door. Caleb pushed it open.

The city twinkled around us in the soft, warm night. Traffic rushed by in Niagara Square below and the night was so clear the lights of the Peace Bridge twinkled like a necklace across the river to the north. It was home, and it was beautiful in a way that made my heart squeeze like a fist.

But Scarlett wasn't looking at any of it. She hid her face in my shoulder like she was trying to shut out the existence of the city itself.