Fade to Red (16 page)

“I—forget I said that. I’m just frustrated by this day. I need to get ready for tonight.”

“Okay, but tell me if I need to go beat him up.” She lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “I can totally take him.”

“I’m sure you can.” Roxie got up and put the pillows back on the couch.

“All right, well, don’t hide for much longer. You’ll appear
guilty
.” And with that, Sierra made her way to her bus. “And watch your back. I owe you a good tackle.”

“You totally do, but please, don’t you dare!” Roxie laughed. “I have to protect my bones for the next year at least.”

“I can’t hear you!” Sierra yelled as she shut the door.

Sparrow texted a few minutes later.

Sparrow: You’ve been withholding, girl! Spill!

Roxie: I’m too busy hiding. Sorry I haven’t been over today. It’s been … eventful.

Sparrow: You’re only safe from me because Ian’s hovering worse than a new mother. And when he can’t, Bodyguard Will is.

Roxie: I’ve noticed a lot of guards too! Have they always been around?

Sparrow: Will hasn’t. If it doesn’t work out with Beck, you need to have a look at Will. :) But from what I saw of you and Beck kissing, I’m thinking it will ALL work out. And then some. DANG, girl!

Roxie put her head in her hands and groaned.

By the time the show was over that night, pictures of Beckham and Roxie looking like they were ready to rip each other’s clothes off onstage, along with the pictures of them kissing, were all over the news and Internet. Chloe left six messages. Her parents and brother called at different times throughout the day, wanting to know why she hadn’t told them about her relationship. She was mortified and scared.
Terrified
would better describe it … her resistance to Beckham was barely hanging by a thread.

Roxie spent the next day hiding with Sparrow. Ian kept bringing them food, so they wouldn’t have to leave the bus, except during the show. She dreaded going back on her bus that night, but sucked it up. The next couple of days they made the long drive to St. Paul. They hadn’t been there long when Beckham knocked on the door to see if she would come play in the snow. He looked so adorable standing out there, cheeks rosy from the cold, and his eyes bright and beseeching. Roxie said no and then felt horrible when she saw the flicker of hurt on his face. Guilt spread through her body like a weed.

He walked away, and Brooke moved past her and threw a snowball at him. Roxie stepped away so she couldn’t hear their laughter mocking her. Jealousy quickly replaced all guilt.

A few hours before the show that night, he came to the door again. Vanessa let him in.

He gave everyone a quick wave and looked at Roxie.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

Roxie looked around. All eyes were on them. “Okay.”

“Alone. Can we go in the back? Or would you come over to mine?”

“I’ll come with you,” she said quietly.

They didn’t speak as they walked to his bus.

“Have a seat,” he said formally.

“I can’t stay long.” She kept standing.

“Have you noticed your bodyguard, Johnny?” he asked. “And Al? Although you probably don’t see Al most of the time.”

“
My
bodyguard? I thought they were for everyone. They’re both kinda hard to miss.”

“I should’ve let you know I was doing that. With those pictures getting out—just can’t be too careful.” He looked away. “Roxie, I’m going crazy here. Please…” He rubbed the stubble on his chin and then put his hand on her arm. “We have these moments when I think we’re getting somewhere, and then … you pull back, say it can’t happen, avoid me … but the way you look at me is a completely different story.”

She didn’t say anything, just noticed the way his eyelashes curled up at the ends. Leo’s did the same thing. She was envious of those lashes.

“I’ve had dreams about you with really short hair,” he said so quietly she barely heard him.

She jumped when he ran his fingers softly down her neck.

“I’ve had dreams about kissing this neck.” His eyes looked like stormy waters. “I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Tell me. Tell me what’s real, Roxie.”

She swallowed hard.

“I’ve tried to forget,” she whispered.

He put his hand on her cheek and whispered, “If you won’t help me remember, will you at least let me help you forget?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? I’m not really that bad, am I?”

She wouldn’t look at him, even though he tried to make her by lifting her chin.

“Roxie,” he said softly.

When he said her name with such conviction, it broke something inside of her. She ached to believe in him. She wanted more than anything to know that what Sierra had said about him was true, and that she could put aside her responsible, analytical self for a moment and just
feel
. She caved and finally looked at him, and her heart plummeted even further.

Without overthinking it, she kissed him. He sucked in a sharp breath and kissed her back with the same fury. She held onto his hair and walked into him until the back of his calves hit the couch. She nudged him and he sat down, pulling her with him. Her thighs wound around him as tight as they could go, straddling him, and still he pulled her tighter and groaned into her mouth.

The door banged shut and Sierra said, “Ahh, sorry!”

Roxie jumped off of Beckham, turning bright red. She couldn’t look at either one of them. Beckham took her hand and stood up beside her.

“Great timing,” he muttered with a scowl.

Sierra laughed. “I’m really sorry.” She looked at Roxie and lifted her eyebrows. “I’m glad you listened to me.”

Roxie groaned. “This is so messed up.” She let go of Beckham’s hand and walked toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, Roxie, don’t go. Come on … hang out with us.”

“I’m out of here,” Sierra said at the same time.

“I’ll go get ready. It’s later than I thought…” Roxie made a quick excuse and ran.

Every picture of Roxie was charred. The girl’s blonde, sunshiny looks didn’t look so sunshiny
scorched
.

Their kiss was playing over and over again in the edges of her mind.
No. No.
Her body trembled.

No.

She envisioned her sharp dagger hanging out of the girl’s throat. She’d had a feeling about Roxie from the beginning and should have offed her as soon as she saw them onstage together.

The frame she held of Beckham slipped out of her hands. Shards of glass scattered across the floor. She got on her hands and knees, ignoring the glass as she grabbed his picture. Her palms were prickled and now bleeding, but his picture was still perfect.

No harm done.

She brushed her thumb against his smiling face. She’d do anything for him. It had been that way since the first time she’d seen him. She’d been his ever since.

She’d come so close, so many times now. At one of his shows, he’d looked at her, devouring her with his eyes.

The guard wouldn’t let her go backstage that night. But revenge was sweet. She made sure his blood trickled out slowly.

She was too close now. Just a slight change of plans.

Roxie.

Roxie would have to go first. Security was tighter and she’d have to be more careful, but she’d always loved a challenge.

She twitched and on shaky legs stood up and made her way across the room. She grabbed her pills and tossed one back. The twitching stopped a few minutes later. Blood continued to slowly trickle down her arms and onto the counter, but she didn’t notice.

There wasn’t time to make any mistakes. It would take discipline and the cunning of a fox.

She smiled. Within a few days, Roxie would be dead.

“I like that Beckham Woods.” Ellen smiled. “He is a
hunk
.”

Ian snorted at his mom then twisted around when he heard Sparrow laughing.

“My wife agrees,” he grumbled.

Her lips lifted on one side, along with an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

He took a long drink of water. “Yeah, yeah, he’s pretty hot.” He rolled his eyes and winked at his mom.

“He doesn’t even come close to your hotness, Orville,” Sparrow said. “Except when he dances … and … sings.”

He lowered his head but didn’t take his eyes off her, giving her a look that made her shift in her seat. “You want me to dance and sing, baby?” he asked softly. He leaned across the table and settled right in front of her face. His nose touched hers. “Seems like I remember some good times in this house doing just that,” he whispered. His lips moved to her ear. “Maybe we can go upstairs in a little bit and reminisce.”

He moved back slowly and sat down.

“Dang,” Sparrow said shakily.

“You
do
remember,” he said, smiling.

Sparrow glanced nervously at Ellen, but she was focused on Journey. She hadn’t set her down since they’d pulled in the driveway that morning.

“Do your parents always act like this?” Ellen asked Journey.

Journey let out a long string of gibberish, and when they cracked up, she did too.

And then Ellen repeated what she’d been asking since they got there: “Are you
sure
you can’t stay longer?”

“I wish we could, Mom. I really do. I’ll have to fly you out when we’ve got a few days off.”

They stayed around the house visiting, until it was time to go to the venue. On the drive, Ian caught Sparrow laughing to herself and smiled, wondering if she was thinking about when he’d carried her upstairs. He’d completely shocked her with his moves in the little striptease reenactment. And she’d shocked him more by taking his hand and showing him how instantly turned on it made her. He freaking loved
married
Little Bird; she was all kinds of bold.

“
Dang girl, dang girl, dang girl, dang girl, dang girl, dang,”
he sang softly.

Sparrow lost it then. She shook her head and wiped her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “You are such a nut.”

He kissed her hand. “Your hot nut, you mean.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, that didn’t work, did it?”

“No.” She took another deep breath and looked at him. “Seriously, though,
Magic Mike
. Where have
you
been this whole marriage?”

He smirked. “Gotta spread some things out, little at a time, to keep the love alive.”

“Our love is alive,” she said, waving off his words and then pointing at him. “I’m gonna need to see that again,
tonight
, the minute you’re off that stage.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Beckham took the last picture with a fan and then he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Howie stepped into place beside him as he walked out the door.

“Johnny said it took some convincing, but she agreed to wait in your bus until you got there,” Howie said.

Beckham grinned. “Tell Johnny he’s getting a raise.”

She was drifting off when he walked in. His eyes drifted down the length of her body, stretched out on the couch, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Someone yelled outside and Roxie jumped up, dazed. He steadied her.

“Hey, thanks for waiting for me,” he said, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m so tired. I better get going.”

“No—really?” he asked, unable to hide his disappointment. “Stay. We can sleep.”