Fade to Red (27 page)

While she did a few more stretches, the breeze picked up and she felt chilled. She slowly stood up and went to shut the windows.

She screamed when she saw someone standing outside her window. They turned and ran. The gauzy curtains made it hard to see any features, but she felt certain it’d been a girl. Shaking, she opened the door and looked around.

“Hello? Johnny?” she called.

No answer.

Creeped out, she shut the door and locked it and then closed all the windows. She didn’t see any signs of the girl or her bodyguard. Still shaking, she told herself to calm down and called Jill, the owner of the house. She looked out the window again to see if they were home.

“Jill? It’s Roxie,” she said as soon as Jill answered.

“Oh hey, girl! How’s the tour going?” she asked politely.

“It’s been great. I just wanted to let you know I’m back for a couple of nights. I should have let you know I would be back, so you didn’t think someone had broken in out here.” Roxie laughed nervously.

“Thanks, that’s probably a good idea!” Jill laughed.

“You didn’t just come by, did you? I saw someone outside my window a few minutes ago.”

“Weird! No,” she said. “I’m actually not home right now, but I can have Eddie take a look around if you’re nervous.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just thought I’d check. Maybe I’ll see you before I head out again.”

“That’d be great. Let’s have coffee or something.”

They hung up and Roxie took another look outside but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She dialed Johnny.

“Johnny here,” he answered.

“Hey. Did you finally listen to me and go home?”

“No, I’m coming back. Silly girl. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Boss would kill me if he knew I left, though.”

“It’s fine. I won’t tell.”

“Thanks. I’m close. I needed a 4x4, animal style, and backup hadn’t come yet. Al’s supposed to be working tonight. Want anything?”

“Mmm, that does sound good. I’ll have a double meat, animal style … wait—make that without the onions though. But everything else. Please,” she added.

“You got it. Fries?”

“Pfft. Yeah!” she snorted.

This was going to change her whole day. She hadn’t had In-N-Out since before the tour started.

Johnny knocked on the door ten minutes later and handed her the bag. She wanted to hug him.

“Thank you!” she said, cramming her mouth with fries.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Hey, it’s probably nothing, but someone was here earlier, looking in my window. I think it was a girl.” She pointed at the window closest to the door.

“What?”

“Scared me to death. I screamed when I saw her and she took off.”

“Why are you just now telling me this?”

“I did call to see where you were and got sidetracked by this.” She held up her burger.

He glared. “I’ll take a look around the perimeter.” He suddenly stepped into bodyguard mode and backed out of the front door. “Before it gets dark…”

“Thanks, Johnny. I’ll go ahead and make up the couch bed for Al. And you can take Leo’s bed—he’s not here tonight.”

“No, don’t worry about us. We’ll take turns sitting up. I’m about to set up the tents. Really,” he raised his hands when she began to protest, “I’m looking forward to being outside. So is Al. We’ve been cooped up too long. I know this’ll be good for me,” he said with genuine enthusiasm.

She laughed. “Okay. If you’re sure. I can give you some extra blankets.”

“Thank you.”

The iPad mini dropped into her lap at least five times before Roxie gave up and stopped trying to read her book. She turned her light off, put in her ear buds with soft music playing, and closed her eyes. Her dreams gave her permission to think about Beckham Woods.

The girl in the window. A car backfired and the ground shook. Kissing Beckham. His eyes. His touch felt real. They were in her bed. He leaned down and kissed her bare skin. She tossed and turned, then shook the covers off. It was so hot. She reached for the covers again because the girl was watching from the window.

“Let me see you,” his voice echoed in her dream.

“Why is it so hot in here?” she asked him.

“Wake up,” he whispered. “Wake up!” The voice got more urgent.

She opened her eyes and her room was so full of smoke, she couldn’t see anything. She got down on the floor and crawled toward the door. She yelped when her hand touched the doorknob. Wrong thing to do. She snatched the blanket off of her bed and put that over the doorknob. She was shaking hard. Nothing was moving fast enough. Her eyes burned and her body felt sluggish. Maybe this was part of the dream too. Some of the kitchen walls were missing and the table was in pieces. She turned to the closest window and crawled out of it, stretching out on the grass.

Shaking. She woke up to someone shaking her. An oxygen mask was put over her nose and mouth. She looked up and she was in an ambulance. She tried to sit up.

“Hold up. Take it easy. How are you feeling?” one of the EMTs asked.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said in the mask.

“We’re gonna take you to the hospital, get you checked out. You’re really lucky you got out of there.”

She looked past the two men and out the open doors of the ambulance. The cottage was black in places and the smoke still filled the air. She couldn’t see the main house.

“Are Jill and Eddie okay?” she croaked, lifting the mask.

“I see a couple being checked out over there.” He tilted his head to the left. He shut the doors and said something to the guy driving. “Is there someone we could call for you? We’re gonna be on our way now.”

She shook her head as they started driving. “Johnny will call my parents. Wait! Did you see Johnny and Al?” she asked. She tried to sit up. “Sleeping outside.”

They both tried to get her to settle down and keep her mask on, but she kept pushing it back and coughing. “Where are they?” she repeated.

Her head was pounding and her eyes wouldn’t stop running from the burn.

“We’ll have to see when we get to the hospital,” one said softly. “It’s important that you stay calm. You inhaled a lot of smoke. Keep the oxygen on.”

When Roxie got into that cab and didn’t look back, Beckham knew he’d lost his chance with her. He should have gone home, worked out until he couldn’t think straight, or asked Sierra to not let him out of her sight. But he didn’t. He told Howie to take the day off and not bother coming around until they drove to the Grammys the next night.

Another cab pulled up and the flight attendant from earlier stepped beside him and opened the door.

“Need a ride?” she asked with a smirk.

“I need a drink.” He squelched down the bile that threatened to come up and welcomed the dark spiral he was diving into headfirst.

“I can arrange that,” she whispered.

Anything to forget. He’d do anything to wipe it all out for just one night. It was pulsating with every heartbeat that Leo wasn’t his. Everywhere he looked was a reminder that Roxie didn’t want anything to do with him.
You deserve a relapse
, he told himself, and he stepped into the cab with her.

His cell phone vibrated and fell off of the nightstand. He grabbed it, crawled out of bed, and tried not to wake up Flight Attendant—what was her name? Morgan? Megan? Megan sounded right…

Stumbling over an empty Jameson bottle, he made it to the bathroom and turned the light on, nearly falling again over the brightness. He held onto his head, trying to push it into his neck. The room wanted to go sideways.

It’s not like you’re in a relationship
, he told the bottom of his chin. He couldn’t venture up to his eyes.

What’s wrong with you?

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

You didn’t do anything wrong … but you may as well have. This is who you’ve always been. And this woman wanted you. No baggage there.

A beautiful woman that he never wanted to see again, much less,
touch
.

She was all he could see.
Roxie. Roxie. She’s not Roxie.

Relationship or not, he loved Roxie. If he’d doubted it before, he was sure of it now. He’d hoped to put her out of his mind and had only succeeded in realizing he was in love with the woman.

Megan had been all over him the night before and he’d been all over the Jameson. When she unzipped his pants and got on her knees, he let her. But when he looked down and focused on the dark hair beginning to bob up and down on him, he’d yelled at her to stop.

She’d stared up at him in shock when he told her to get out. She wouldn’t leave and he was too drunk and exhausted to force her out.

It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have sex with her—you still went too far, you filthy fuckin’ loser.

He gagged over the sink, fisting the mirror and cursing every ounce of Jameson that still sang in his veins. He rinsed his face with cold water, put the phone in his pocket, and walked out of the bathroom.

Megan leaned up on her elbows when he went back into the room and watched as he tried to button his pants.

“Come back to bed, let me finish what I started last night…” She had smudged mascara circling her eyes and he felt his stomach heave at the sight of her.

His phone buzzed again. He took it out of his pocket as she said, “Ignore it. Come here.”

He took her hand off his hip. “If I didn’t want you when I was drunk I sure as hell don’t want you when I’m sober.”

He didn’t even hear the rest of what she said. He gathered what little he had with him and got out of there. Finally glancing down at his phone, his gut curled when he saw he’d missed twelve calls.

He didn’t listen to any of his messages, but called Nate. “What’s going on?”

“A lot. Meet me at Cedar Sinai. There are already reporters, so find a way in without being seen.”

He texted Nate when he was close and Anthony met him at one of the back entrances. Anthony came to an abrupt stop when he got a good look at Beckham.

He shook his head. “Beck…”

“I know. Believe me, I know I screwed up.”

“Follow me.”

They walked as fast as they could and Anthony talked quickly.

“Nate will meet you upstairs. He’s talking to the police right now. It’s Roxie. An explosion went off by her cottage—they’re monitoring her closely.”

“What?” He stopped walking and Anthony tried to keep him moving.

“I’m taking you to her. Just keep walking. Beck, have you heard from Ian at all? Since yesterday at the airport?”

“No, why? Is Roxie okay?”

“I think she will be, but she’s been through a lot. Like I said, they’re really watching her closely, so I think there’s still concern about all the smoke she inhaled. You’re sure you don’t know anything about Ian? He’s been missing since yesterday.”

“Missing? What the hell is going on?” He wanted to punch something.

“He took Sparrow and Journey to your house, left to run errands, and never showed up for their anniversary dinner.”

Beckham drew a sharp breath. “Something’s wrong. He’d never do that.”

“I know. Howie and Matt have been looking into it.”

Roxie woke up and looked around. Beckham was sitting by her, with a tight grip on her hand.

She blinked and tears ran down her face.

“Rox,” he breathed. “I’m here. I’m so sorry. Are you in pain? You scared me so bad…” he paused and took another breath. “I’ll get the nurse.” He pushed the button behind her.

“My eyes are on fire,” she whispered.

A nurse hurried into the room.

“Fastest service ever. Celebrities have magical powers,” Roxie croaked. “Where am I?” Her voice barely came out; she sounded like a million fires had settled down in her lungs.

“Cedar Sinai,” the nurse said, smiling at Beckham.

“You look rough,” Roxie said.

Beckham’s heart dropped. The nurse laughed. He didn’t.

He brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed each one. He’d nearly lost her. This was all his fault. If he had been with her and not … oh God, what a fucking idiot. He squeezed his eyes shut and held her hand to his cheek and kept it there.

She was so shaken, she let him.

When he opened his eyes, both Roxie and the nurse were staring at him.

“How bad is the smoke inhalation?” he asked the nurse. “Is there anything we can do to make sure it doesn’t get worse in her lungs?”

“We’re starting a brief course of steroids and will be watching her for at least 24 hours, possibly longer. Sometimes symptoms can worsen later, and with all the smoke she took in, we just need to run some tests and keep a close eye on her.”

Beckham nodded. “I plan on doing that too.”

“You need to go get ready!” Roxie protested. “You’re not missing the Grammys for me…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Nate’s taking care of it. He let them know we had an emergency and that we won’t be there.” He looked at the hand that was bandaged. “Does your hand hurt?”

“Yes. Very much. But, Beckham, you
have
to go. You’re up for … what—8 Grammys? You can’t miss that!”

“
I don’t care
,” he enunciated each word. “I’m not leaving you.”

She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. “Can Ian cover it for you?”