The Revolution (27 page)

I was on my own for years. This band saved me in many ways and here they are saving me again. They’re my family and it feels good to be a part of theirs. They’re my brothers, Rochelle and Holli sisters to me. “My name’s out there. It’s only a matter of time before my family is found.”

Dex cuts in, “If they haven’t already. Russian royalty? Really?”

I nod and shift, never comfortable with my title.

“Shit,” Derrick says, “this whole time I’ve been rooming with Russian royalty. You were late with rent a couple times. What the hell, dude?”

Knowing he’s teasing me, I say, “I lost all my inheritance when I didn’t walk out on that stage in Luxembourg.”

Rochelle appears in the doorway, and asks, “Why’d you leave?”

“Because my mother and sister chose to stay.”

Tommy says, “Less riddles. We don’t have much time to make a decision.”

“My dad was violent and hit them. Everyone respected him because of his name, his family, his job. He ran a successful investment firm out of Moscow. I was the pride of his eye, the boy he bragged about, the one who would inherit the legacy. The only problem was that he drank too much and he liked to take out his problems with his fists. He particularly liked if they were weaker—my mom and eventually my sister. Anyone who crossed him was fired. Anyone who tried to stop him never came back to work. He didn’t scare me. I saw who he really was underneath his suits and furs, and his money.”

Rochelle sits on a stool nearby and says, “You were sixteen?”

“Yes.”

“Your quote said you couldn’t get your fingers to cooperate.” And with that comment, she leads me back into a time I want to forget.

“I hit him. And then I hit him again and again until his bull of a body hit me again and again. My mother screamed and my sister cried. But he was finally taking his disappointment in his life out on someone closer to his size. I sprained my wrist, which caused damage to the tendons running down two fingers.” I drag my finger over my right hand. “I couldn’t play, so the family counsel lied, saying I was sick. Then continued to lie because I wasn’t healing fast enough to keep the concert dates.”

“That’s when you left?” asks Tommy.

“No, I left two months later when I got in a fight with him while touring. He backhanded my mother when she asked if I wanted tea. Her mistake? She didn’t ask him if he wanted one first. So fucked up. I lost it. Saw red. Her knees hit the floor and I was on my feet to stand between them. He pushed me. I pushed him. He punched me. I punched him. That’s when I realized my injuries hadn’t healed. Something in my wrist snapped and he laughed. My mother and sister ran to help me, but he gave them an ultimatum.
Yesli vy vybirayete Kazimira, vy vybirayete golodatz.
They had to choose either me and starvation or him. In the middle of a palace in Luxembourg, I stood with an injured wrist and bloody knuckles and they chose him.” I can still see their faces, their broken, desolate faces. But in the end, their inexplicable loyalty made my decision easy.
I don’t even know where they are. How they are. If they’re still alive. How did I let so much time go by without checking on them? I used to do it, secretly, every couple months, but once I joined the band life got hectic.

Comforting arms wrap around my neck from behind. Rochelle cradles against my back like the sister I should have had, comforting me in that familial way I’ve missed. My hands cover her forearms when she whispers, “You have us. We’re your family.”

“Thanks.”

Johnny looks as troubled as I feel. “Where did you go? What did you do about your wrist?”

Rochelle sits down and then looks up. I follow her gaze and see Lara in the doorway. Standing, I go to her. Tears glistens in her blue eyes, her hair a beautiful mess, a wrinkled plaid shirt over ripped jeans. Fuck, she’s stunning.

“I had twenty-four hours before they cut off access to my credit cards,” I answer him, so I can talk to my girl in private. “I went to the hospital, got my wrist wrapped, and then took out two thousand dollars and flew to Amsterdam.”

The guys laugh. Derrick says, “I would have done the same, but probably skipped the hospital. Just get me to the hashish.”

“Of course you would,” I joke.

Lara’s not joking though when she asks, “What happened after that?”

I touch her cheek to ease the lines that show her concern. “Got odd jobs and bought an instrument I could take anywhere I went. Pianos are a real bitch to carry around.” I turn my wrist several times. “I’m all healed. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry.”

Taking her by the waist, I turn her around. “Come with me.” Over her shoulder, I tell the band, “I’ll be right back.”

Around the corner, the door shuts, giving us privacy in the dark hall. Before she has a chance to speak, I bring her chin up until our lips meet.
This
. This is what I need. All I need.
Her.

Her heels lower her back down and she leans her forehead against my lips. I happily kiss her head. Looking back at me, a tear falls down her cheek. “You’re a guardian angel on earth. You’re built from strength and compassion, goodness. I’ll be here for you like you were there for me. But I need to ask you something first.”

“Okay.” My heart braces from the unknown.

“Do you love me because of this situation we’ve found ourselves in?”

The strength of this woman astounds me.
With all she is going through, she came here. She came to find me, to see if I was okay
. “I love you because my heart bleeds for you. I love you because the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. I love you, Lara, because without you breathing becomes useless. I’m in love with you because you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on outside.”

She wraps around me, holding me tight. I close my eyes holding her tighter. “I love you, Kaz Fabian. Petrowski, Kazimir. Whatever you want me to call you, I will, because I love your soul.”

I kiss the top of her head. “Kaz Fabian is good. I left Petrowski behind a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your family? About the abuse?”

“Because my world ended that night. I no longer had a family to talk about. As for the abuse, it started when I was younger and when I was old enough to know it would never change, I left.”

Derrick opens the door and says, “Come back in.”

We walk in hand and hand and take a seat on the couch along the closest wall.

Tommy asks, “Where do we go from here? Do you apologize to the fucker to make it right in the media? To get them to back off?”

“I won’t. I told you. I don’t regret hitting him, so I’m not going to back down. I’ll take the consequences that come along with it.”

He leans forward resting his arms on his legs. His brow is creased, his mouth twisted. “What about your family?”

“I stand by what I did. I wouldn’t change it. I know in my heart what I did was right. They chose him for money, for worldly comforts. They chose to live in fear instead of stand by me and fight. That was
their
choice. I couldn’t stay and watch the destruction he was causing, so I left.”

“And now the great pianist is back,” Johnny says with a smile. “Why the fuck do we not have you on keys? Get to work on some melodies. We need new material.”

Relieved by the support, I joke, “Happily, but don’t kick me off guitar yet.”

Dex says, “We can’t. Derrick still screws up too much.”

“Fuck you,” Derrick snaps, laughing while nailing Dex in the head with a pillow.

While the guys sling cheap shots at each other, I chuckle. Lara’s hand squeezes mine, and she smiles. “So what are you going to do?”

“Guess it’s time to face my demons.”

I HEARD IT
takes twenty-one days to break a habit or replace it with a different behavior. I wish I had reached that goal already, but some things take time to heal.

It’s only been a few weeks, but Rochelle referred me to her therapist who helps patients who have gone through traumatic events. I’ve been seeing her four days a week and with her help, I already know Mark was never a habit. The sessions have shown me that he was a distraction, someone I once had fun with. That I didn’t spend every night with him, or even see him every day during our relationship, nor miss him during our times apart, should have been a clue. He was fun. All those memories reveal who he really was. I was too blind to see, but I see clearly now.

Walking out of my therapist’s office, Kaz is leaning against the car, head down, looking at his phone. His gaze lifts to mine and my heart speeds up, my steps lighten, my burdens lift.

His smile makes me weak in the knees and the way he looks at me—I’m gone to this man. He didn’t take twenty-one days to takeover my heart. He’s a habit I’ve happily taken on. I even talk about him to my therapist. She tells me to take it slow.

But I know.

There’s no slow when it comes to
Kaz
. And there’s no in-between when it comes to
us
.

He pushes off the car and meets me in the middle of the parking lot. With his hands cradling my jaw, I lift up and kiss him. Heat-sweltering, heart-singeing passion ignites my whole body, an inferno in my chest that only burns for him.

“My therapist confirmed it. You’re dangerous for my heart.”

A smirk quickly takes over—the cocky one that often appears alongside his ego. “And what do you think?”

“I
know
you are.”

He kisses me again.

LANE IS BACK
on the Fabian project, helping me, much to his delight today.

Tonight, I’m back on Kaz, much to mine. “Oh God! Yes!”

Kaz rolls me off him. “From behind.” His eyes are alight with a fiery lust as he looks into mine.

Coming down from that blissful space between heaven and hell, I roll onto my hands and knees and brace myself. Large hands take hold of my hips as he taunts with his cock between my legs. “You’re teasing.”

“Just making sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” The words are more a plea than statement.
He always makes me so hot, so ready for him.

One of his hands disappears and I’m surprised when rough fingers dip deep inside between my legs. “You’re so wet. You’re so ready, baby.”

My fingers fist the sheets when the tip of his cock presses against me. His chest covers my back, our bodies covered in sweat. Lifting up, his tongue glides over my shoulder blade as he pushes into me. My head falls forward, the top of it pushed into a pillow as he fucks another orgasm right out of me. I rest my cheek against the mattress until his fitful movements cease, his bliss captured.

Both of us are sated after the second round tonight. I’m lucky to have this man in my life, both physically and emotionally. With his forearm over his eyes, his breathing is hard as he exhales, exhaustion taking hold of him. I know he is burdened, but in the last week he’s only told me portions of his history. I want more. I want him to feel free. Lying on my side facing him, I reach over and rest my hand on his chest as it rises. I whisper, “Talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Please.”

His voice is low, eerily so despite the intimacy of our bodies. “I’ve been thinking about my family. I’m all over headlines here and in Russia. They’re gonna know where I am and who I am. What if they try to contact me? Am I a bad person if I don’t want to see my family?”