A Song for Us (15 page)

“You in the band, too?” a voice purred from beside me as she trailed her hand across my shoulders and walked to the front of me.

“Drummer.” I nodded.

She straddled my legs and began to dance suggestively. “Little drummer boy.”

“Nothing little about me, sweetheart.” I smiled at her and she giggled. Her hands slid through my hair, pulling my head back as she pressed her body against mine. Her smile never reached her eyes, and it turned my stomach to have her grinding on me when I knew it wasn’t what she wanted.

I grabbed her wrists and gently pulled them back so she wasn’t touching me.

“You don’t like it?” She stuck her lip out as if she were pouting.

“It’s not you. My mind is . . . elsewhere.” I grabbed a fifty from my wallet and gave it to her. I just wanted to nurse my beer and get this night over with as soon as possible.

She didn’t look happy but she walked over to another patron and offered him a dance. I stared off at the flashing lights over the stage wondering what the girls were up to.

“What did you do?” Tuck asked as he sank down in the seat next to me. He was the only other guy not getting a private dance.

“I’m just not in the mood.”

Tucker made a face as if I were fucking crazy and I just shook my head. “Only you can piss off a woman whose job it is to like you.”

“It’s a gift,” I joked. “Nothing is right. Everything I touch I fuck up.”

“Like Derek’s face?” Tucker cocked his eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.

“Among other things.” I took another drink.

“Right.” Tucker set his bottle down and spun it in his hand. “I
know I was kind of a dick when you were trying to get with Sarah on tour. I just didn’t want everything to get fucked-up for us.”

“It doesn’t really matter. I could never get her alone long enough to give us a chance. Now I can’t even make things right. Derek won’t let me near her.” I nodded my head toward Derek, who was fully engrossed in the woman grinding against his crotch. “And now I’ve totally fucked up our friendship. I feel like I’m losing her completely . . . if I haven’t already. Derek just doesn’t deserve her.”

“Agreed.”

“Why does that fuckstick get the girl? When do I get my shot?”

“Why was it so hard for Cass to leave Jax? She’s probably scared, man. You need to show her she deserves better, but she isn’t going to make that decision until she is ready. You’re asking for her to change her entire life and take a chance on the unknown.”

“I get two weeks, Tuck. Two fucking weeks or I lose her for good.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Tucker stood, patting me on the shoulder as he went up to Chris and said something quietly to him. Chris looked over at me and back at Tuck before he nodded. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and walked toward the exit with his finger in his ear so he could hear.

I tapped my finger on the table to the sound of the drums in the song. Tucker came back a few minutes later and nodded as he sat down across from me.

“You want your chance? We’ll keep that douche bag out here for a few more hours. The club closes at three.”

“It doesn’t matter. Things with Donna are weird now.”

“Yeah, that’s what Cass said on the phone. She is handling that. Just go hang out with her. Get your closure so you can stop with this brooding bullshit.” He smiled as he peeled the label from his bottle.

“I owe you one, man.” I stood, glancing around at the guys, who seemed oblivious to what I was doing. I slipped out of the club and hailed a taxi to take me back to the hotel.

I was nervous the entire trip back. I didn’t want to put Sarah behind me, but I knew that was probably how this night would end.

I paid the cabdriver as we pulled up out front, and my eyes scanned the tall building. I didn’t know if Sarah was already in her room, and I wasn’t even sure she would answer if she was.

I rode up to our floor as my mind raced. I contemplated just going to my room and lying down, but as I passed by her door, I could hear her softly singing to herself. I couldn’t help but smile as I stepped closer.

I knocked lightly and her voice abruptly cut off. I took a step back and waited for her to pull open the door.

She looked surprised as she scanned the hall to see if I was alone. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys were shuttin’ down the club.” Her lips quirked in a smile and I relaxed.

“Headache. I just needed to relax a little.” I cocked my head to the side as I took in that she was wearing only an oversize T-shirt. My eyes rested on the thin, pink scar that was on the top of her thigh about the size of the scars that covered her arm, and my heart hurt. I knew I couldn’t turn back now. I couldn’t live with myself if she felt
that being with Derek was her only option. I’d put everything on the line for her.

“Cass wasn’t feeling well.” We looked at each other for a moment. “I think Donna is up with her going over the scheduling.”

“You want to hang out for a few?”

“Oh . . . I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

“I’d love to hear what you were singing.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled, embarrassed. “You heard that?”

“Was I not supposed to? You sing onstage in front of hundreds of people for a living.”

“This was just . . . I was just trying to flesh out some lyrics. It’s not really ready yet.”

“Let’s hear what you got. Maybe I can help.” I took a step forward and she worried her lip but stepped back so I could enter.

I looked around the room that was identical to mine but flipped.

“You can”—she gestured toward the bed—“uh . . . sit if you want.”

She grabbed a pair of shorts from her bag and went into the bathroom to pull them on. When she came back out, my eyes automatically went to her.

“Derek is going to freak if he comes back and you’re in here.”

“He won’t be back for hours. The club doesn’t close until three. If you want, we can go to my room. I have a bottle.”

“Okay.” We grabbed her lyrics and her guitar and snuck up the hall to my room.

She pulled open my fridge and grabbed the bottle of Jack.

“I stopped on the way home. I figured it would be a late night. I’ll pour the shots. I want you to sing to me.” I took the bottle from her hand. My fingers wrapped around hers.

“Okay.” She was so much more timid than her normal self. She set her guitar down against the counter.

I grabbed two cups from the cupboard and filled them each with a double shot. Sarah came to my side with a paper in her hand, and I could see it vibrate slightly as her hand shook.

I grabbed her glass and held it out to her. “To good friends and good music.” I held my glass in the air and she bumped hers against mine. We drank them down quickly and slammed our cups on the counter.

“All right.” She cleared her throat and her eyes fell closed. She began to sing in a low, sad tone as if she were in pain.

The flames lick at my fingertips as I’m drawn to the fire,

I want to run but I’m consumed by the overwhelming desire,

To let you in and break apart these walls,

That contain me, don’t blame me, I’m trying not to fall,

But it hurts to ignore it and it hurts to lie,

By myself in this bed when I’m starting to cry.

Her eyes rose to meet mine and I was speechless. It was as if she took the words directly from my heart.

“Did you write that . . . here?” What I was really asking was whom she was writing about.

She slowly nodded. Her face was nervous and unsure.

“It’s perfect.”

“Thanks.” Her voice was quiet. “I’m not sure where to go from there. I’m kind of . . . stuck.”

“You’re not free . . .” I let my words trail off as I remembered her text message. I wanted to beg her to explain what it meant, but I knew she would close herself off again. “Would you like me to help you? We could figure it out together.”

“Yeah . . . um . . . let me grab my guitar.”

I poured us each another drink and carried them toward the main area of the room. Sarah sat down on the bed, her legs folded in front of her and her acoustic guitar on her lap. She strummed a few chords as I sat down next to her, my body angled toward her.

“Thanks.” She took the glass from my hand and her eyes stayed on me as she drank it back. I did the same and took our cups, setting them on the nightstand.

“I like that,” I said as she strummed. I watched her mouth as she slowly began to sing. Her voice was unbelievable. “Let’s work on a chorus.” I grabbed the paper and her pen and began to jot a few lines down.

At night when I close my eyes, I think of you in another life,

No longer hiding

What I’ve been fighting

We took turns strumming the guitar and writing. Sarah loosened up and was starting to act like her old self from the tour. She was
focusing on getting out her feelings, and nothing but honesty was in her lyrics.

“Why are you not a singer?” she asked as she poured us another drink and my eyes scanned her soft legs from the bed.

“That’s for the pretty people,” I joked.

She shot me a flirtatious glance. “You’re pretty.” She sat down next to me, her bare thigh against my jeans.

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.” I took my glass and held it in the air. “What to?”

“To this . . . this is nice . . . ,” she sighed.

“To what?” I asked as my eyes searched hers.

“This . . . us.”

“To us. That’s better.” I drank down my shot.

She smiled and tossed hers back. “You really are more than just a pretty face.”

That caused me to laugh loudly and I bumped her with my shoulder, but she winced in pain.

“What? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Sarah . . .” I leaned away a few inches so I could pull up her short sleeve over her shoulder. A purpling bruise marred her creamy skin.

“What happened?” The playfulness had left my tone. “Did he do this?”

“No. Jesus, E. He doesn’t hit me.” She shook her head and looked down at her lap. “I was fucked-up the other night. I couldn’t snap out of it. I tripped going into the bathroom.”

“When you texted me and I didn’t answer.”

She slowly nodded and I felt like such an asshole. I ran my hand through my hair as I turned more toward her, our bodies dangerously close. I reached out, my eyes on hers as I took my finger and slowly pushed up the leg of her shorts to expose the barely healed scar.

“And what about this?”

She pushed her shorts back down and her eyes watered over. She glanced toward the door as if she was contemplating running.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Sarah. You never did before, and you don’t have to now.”

“That’s from a long time ago.” She wiped at a tear as she struggled not to break down.

“Please don’t ever do that to yourself again. Please . . .” Her eyes met mine and my heart stopped.

“Okay,” she whispered. Her bottom lip quivered and I knew she was trying so hard to be strong.

I reached out and ran my thumb over her lip and her breathing stuttered. I wanted to lean over and kiss her, but I forced myself not to. I would be whatever she wanted me to be for her, as long as she didn’t shut me out.

“Sarah, I want to know what is hurting you. Why you are hurting yourself.”

“I want to tell you. . . .”

“You can tell me anything.” I ran my thumb over the back of her
hand and she began to relax a little. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and began to speak in a quiet, shaky voice.

“I never really felt safe at home after my mom married Phil. He would always make inappropriate comments, hug me just a little too long. I didn’t know what to do. He was my stepfather.”

My mind raced as Sarah began to tell me everything she’d endured as a child. Part of me had always suspected abuse given the few details she’d let slip about her past and the way she behaved around Derek, but never to this magnitude. It made perfect sense now why she reacted the way she did to Derek’s behavior. I cringed as I thought of the first time she was alone with me in my room and I’d wanted her so badly. She was probably terrified of me.

“I will fucking kill him.” I knew it wasn’t what she needed right now, but I couldn’t fathom that no one had tried to protect her.

“It’s over, E. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

 “But he
is
still hurting you. Everything you do is a direct result of your past, of what happened to you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

 “Where is he?” I couldn’t hide my anger and I knew I was squeezing her fingers too tightly.

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years . . . or my sister.”

“Do you think they are still together?”

 “I don’t know. Even if they aren’t, I don’t think I could ever go back there. When I left . . . I left for good. I never looked back.
I cut all my ties to my old life, cut everyone out completely and just fled. . . . I never wanted to be reminded of him in any way again. . . .”

“You don’t have to.” Her eyes met mine for a brief second, and I knew she understood just how far I was willing to go to protect her.

“People always talk about a house with a white picket fence.” She shook her head. “We hid a lot of secrets behind that fence.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?”

“Who would I tell?” Anger flashed in her eyes. “My mother knew I hated Phil. I wanted them to break up from day one. I doubt she would have even believed me.”

“I believe you.”

“You’re different.”

“I’ve been called worse,” I said with a laugh, and she smiled. It was a small victory and I hated that she was with someone who didn’t give a damn about her feelings. “Why haven’t you told Derek?”

“Embarrassed, I guess. Or maybe just scared. Scared he’d freak out, not be able to handle it.” She was fighting back tears now. “I’m just . . . I’m scared to be left alone.”

Again I had that nagging thought that Sarah would hate me for keeping the truth about Derek from her, but I couldn’t hurt her any more. Not now. I just couldn’t, even though I knew it was only a matter of time before she caught him in the act again.