Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (54 page)

SEVERAL HOURS LATER, they arrived at the studio. Chris dropped Sara in front, and then took the Mustang around to the garage to park it himself. He had put way too much blood, sweat, and tears not to mention cold hard cash into his baby to turn it over to some joy riding valet. He pulled the red cones from his trunk, carefully arranging them around the vintage automobile before he headed into the building. Passing by the receptionist desk, he ran into Mary in the corridor.

“What are you so happy about?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

“It’s a beautiful day in Vancouver,” he told her, leaning back against the wall. “Does it have to be anything more than that?”

“Hmmm.” She raised a brow and tapped a pen against her lips. “Sara Daniels just walked by with a similar besotted look on her face. So, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that your good mood might involve something other than the weather.”

He laughed. “You got me. I’m a lucky man.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she muttered, continuing down the hall.

What did she mean by that?
Chris thought, making his way toward the studio. Hesitating in the doorway, he watched Sara for a moment barely able to believe his luck. This beautiful, sassy woman was in love with him.
Chris Alex
, he thought,
you still got it, old man
.

Sara glanced up as he strutted into the room. She rolled her eyes. “Tone the arrogance down a notch, Alex. It wasn’t all that.”

He stuttered to a stop, cocky smile faltering. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Sara laughed out loud at his expression. “It was all that and more.”

“Ha. Very funny.” He picked her up and spun her in a circle, letting her slide down his body slowly before releasing her. He gave her a suggestive look with lowered lids.

“Stop.” She pushed on his chest. “We’ve got work to do and I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

Chris let her go. “Yeah, it’s gonna be tough to write heartbreak lyrics the way I’m feeling right now.”

“I agree.” She reached over and brushed something off both his shoulders.

“What are you doing? Do I have dandruff on me?”

“No. I’m just wiping off your pixie dust.” She smirked. “Now, try to think some sad thoughts and maybe we’ll get lucky with the lyrics.”

Chris grinned. “Impossible.” Seeing her like this so playful, that was so
not
going to happen. Turning away, he crossed to the back of the room and picked up a yellow pad of paper and a pencil off the desk. “I’ll just have to fake it.” He noticed her eyes twinkle and a deep dimple appeared on her right cheek. “Don’t say it, Daniels.” Pulling out a seat at the small table beside her, he commanded. “Sit. Concentrate. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to other things.”

“I like the way you think, Alex.”

Head down, he grunted in response.

They plunked around for far too long, easily distracting one another with lingering touches and long looks. Finally, by drawing from their own experience and with Sam and JR in mind, they were able to hammer out a melancholy tune.

The Road (That Leads to Leavin’ You)

I was young and wild and free

All of life ahead of me

Would I have started down that road?

If I’d known where it would go?

That the road I traveled down

Would lead to leavin’ you?

Like a fool, my heart laid bare

Full of trust, without one care,

I couldn’t see the wreck that lay

Ahead of me along the way

That the road I barreled down

Would lead to leavin’ you

Emerging from that mangled mess,

Really lost, I must confess.

Broken soul and tired bones

Sure I’d spend my life alone

Since the road that I’d gone down

Led to leavin’ you.

Why even try

when our love is dead and gone?

So that’s how it goes,

And I’m just left to carry on.

Now someone new is tempting me

What lies ahead ain’t clear to see

Should I risk it all again?

Afraid I’ll play and lose again

Will the road I set out on

Lead to leavin’ you?

Why must the road I travel down

Always lead to leavin’ you?

Sara stared as Chris started the vocals, missing her cue.

“What’s wrong, Daniels?” he asked, stopping.

“Nothing,” she swallowed, “only…” her lips curved up, “you have the sexiest singing voice. You sound just like you do when…” She leaned over and trailed a couple of kisses down his jaw. “Never mind. Let’s get this done. I want to get back to the apartment.”

SAM’S DAYS STARTED to all run together. Go to work, come home. Rinse and repeat. Sure it had been extremely awkward the first day back after the kidnapping. There were lots of rumors flying around and there were some who stared and gossiped behind her back. The most outlandish one had been about Danny, JR, and her being a threesome.
Where did people come up with stuff like that?

The majority of her colleagues appeared to be mostly at a loss on how to approach her. After all, what did one say to a woman who had been publicly disrespected by her boyfriend and then pistol whipped and kidnapped by her psychotic father?

The story was all over the news, but for the most part she was left alone. She suspected Mary probably had something to do with that and was grateful.

“Do you have the information I requested?” Beth asked, popping in the door to Sam’s office.

Sam glanced up. “I’m working on it right now.” She took the decorative hair tie off her wrist and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.” Determination marking her brow, she told her boss. “Give me till lunchtime.”

Beth nodded. “That’s fine, Samantha. Call me if you need anything, ok?”

“Sure,” she mumbled, gaze lowering to focus on the complicated task of arranging a flow chart to get people and equipment efficiently moved cross country for BS’s upcoming tour. By one o’clock, she was done and hit send after making multiple backups of all the documentation. Stretching her hands over her head, her stomach grumbled. She couldn’t remember if she’d eaten breakfast. Lately, she hadn’t felt much like eating at all.

Needing some fresh air, she pulled her purse out of her desk drawer and grabbed her jacket. She’d just passed by the recording studios on her way outside when she glimpsed a shock of familiar blond hair on the long legged figure turning the corner in front of her. She stopped. Every muscle in her body tensed. Her heart began to pound erratically. She started to back up to go another direction when he turned around.

Grey eyes met mossy green, neither moving nor speaking for a very long time. JR didn’t look so good. His beard was untrimmed, and his hair was messy. Usually he was impeccably dressed, too, but not today. The hurt and sorrow in his eyes she knew was reflected in her own. So much had been lost for both of them. Such a waste.

“Sam, I need…” He shook his head and didn’t finish the thought. His brow creased. “How are you?” he redirected in an even tone. “You look…good.”

“I’m alright.”

“I’ve been so worried about you.”

“JR, please don’t start.” She cut him off.

He lips flattened and he took a step back, as if taking her usage of his nickname like a physical blow.

“I saw the apology on CNN. Thank you for that.”

“I wish I could take it all back. I am so sorry. If only…” He took a step toward her reaching out his hand.

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “Just, don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Nothing’s changed…” She shrugged unable to finish.

JR nodded once and turned away, every muscle in his broad shoulders in a hard line.

Sam stood there motionless, her hands so tightly clasped that her nails dug crescents into her palms. She stared in the direction he’d gone long after he’d turned the corner out of sight. The shock of seeing him for the first time since the hospital caused unwanted emotions to resurface. An internal struggle raged inside of her. A large part of her desperately wanted to chase him down, to touch him and offer her comfort, but reason prevailed. She’d be twice the fool to stick her hand into that fire again.

Her heels muffled by the carpet runner, Sam sadly turned and headed back toward her office, no longer having any interest in going outside. Her head suddenly swiveled as she heard the unmistakable sound of a fist slamming into the wall followed by an obscenity. A gut wrenching moan brought immediate tears to her eyes. He must have been around the corner, just steps away from her the entire time.

Swallowing back a sob, she closed her eyes but it didn’t help. She could see the misery in his moss green eyes as if it was permanently tattooed onto the back of her eyelids, and she felt his pain as if it were her own. Warm tears fell onto her cold bloodless face as she fled down the hall, praying for the day to come when things would get easier.

“FUCK!” JR PULLED his throbbing fist back to his chest. Assessing the damage, he wiggled his fingers and was dismayed to find out he couldn’t move one. Hopefully, it wasn’t broken. Marcus was going to kill him if it was. “Shit. Shit.” That would cause major problems for the tour. How the hell long would it take to heal?

He turned the corner hoping for a last glimpse of her, but she was already gone. He’d been unable to make himself leave, knowing the entire time she’d been so close but so unreachable. Seeing her just made everything worse. How could she so easily dismiss his longing for her when it practically radiated off his skin? He wished with every fiber of his being that she would take him back. How long was it going to be this way? He cursed again, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. The familiar ache in his chest returned two fold. She’d given him his walking papers. Why the hell couldn’t he accept that and move on?

Outside of the building, JR crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders against the cold autumn wind. Expression dark, he made his way purposefully down the sidewalk looking for liquid consolation.

SEVERAL HOURS AND too many drinks later, JR became vaguely aware of someone’s hand on his shoulder. Struggling to lift his head off the bar, he twisted around.

“Ok, Cupcake,” Marcus said. “It’s time to go home.”

“Piss off, asshole,” JR slurred as he squinted his eyes trying to bring a single image of Marcus into focus.

“Nice! Now let someone with some compassion try,” Dwight said, scowling at his brother. “JR…Bud. We just want to help you get home, man.”

“How’d you find me?” JR asked, willing the room to stop spinning.

“James called me,” Marcus said, nodding at the bartender. “I used to spend way too much time in here myself. Come on big guy,” He and Dwight got up underneath JR’s arms and helped him to his feet. “Believe me this stuff isn’t going to help. You’re gonna feel like crap tomorrow.”

After getting JR back home and to his bed with a trashcan strategically placed nearby, Marcus and Dwight stepped out of the entrance of the loft apartment.