Songbird (12 page)

“You look very nice. I like the contacts. I
can see your eyes better. You have fantastic eyes.” Nicholas’s
third attempt at breaking my furious silence remained as neglected
as the first two attempts. None of his attempts had included an
apology so I wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

Thankfully the drive to the park hosting the
party was short—we did
not
stop at the Hollywood stars—and
enduring his scent or attempts ephemeral. When he stepped out of
the SUV he held out his arms and manners dictated I accept. That
still didn’t mean I was required to speak to him.

“Nicholas. I’m so pleased to see you had time
for me.” I watched the tall, slender woman approach. I’d seen her
before on screen and she looked rather frail in person in
comparison. She wore a white sundress and had left her hair as
loose and free as mine. Some smug part of me pointed out my curls
held better than hers.

“Angelina,” Nicholas shook her hand and
stiffly kissed a cheek.

Bulbs flashed and internally I cringed. I
hadn’t been photographed in a very long time. I hoped if these ever
went to print no one would remember the old me.

Her eyes fell on me. The curiosity was there
but under friendly politeness. “And who is your companion?”

“Miss Bianca Sheridan,” Nicholas said.

“What a wonderful old fashioned name. They’re
so rare these days.” She smiled and held out a hand. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” I shook as was polite
and released as soon as manners dictated I could.

“Thank you for coming. Please, enjoy
yourselves. The buffet is set up under the white tents.” She
gestured with an arm.

“Thanks, Angelina.” Nicholas guided us away
from the hostess and I resumed my silence. The cameras followed and
I ignored them almost as well as I ignored the man under my
hand.

There were tables set up across the lawn and
Nicholas nodded hello to several people that called out to him but
never stopped. I knew from Bluejay, Nicholas didn’t like to be in
the center of things. He was an observer not a participant.

“Nicky,” a woman’s voice crooned and
Nicholas’s arm under my hand turned to steel but he kept walking.
At least until the woman stepped out in front of him quickly
blocking his path. “Nicky, don’t you remember?”

“Dilynne.” Nicholas’s voice held no warmth
and even I shivered from the chill.

When she glanced me over with hard blue eyes
I lifted my chin and stared directly back. Her lips curled in
vicious amusement when she reached my face.

“I don’t recall seeing your
friend
before.”

I flicked her a disinterested glance over her
sadly lacking wardrobe and then leveled her with a cool, thin
smile. No taste. She was dressed like a desperate whore. While I
would love to tell her so, I wouldn’t stoop to petty. I was better
than that.

She glared but most couldn’t hold up to my
unwavering silent ridicule. When she fluttered nervously after a
few seconds, I smiled enough to show some teeth. She turned an
interesting shade of red but from embarrassment or anger I couldn’t
and didn’t care.

Nicholas coughed, and I could swear he
covered a laugh. “Dilynne, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to
entertain my
friend.
”

Nicholas stepped around her and led us away
from the stunned actress. He patted my hand. “I think we’re about
even on the rude scale, Songbird.”

Like hell we were but I was still too angry
at him to speak to him directly. I let him bask in silence for the
rest of the party. By the look on his face, he wasn’t happy about
that. With every passing moment his anger bled a little more into
his eyes. Oh, fucking well.

Arc and Max grinned when I stepped into their
dressing room to check on status.

“Doesn’t someone look pretty?” Arc asked Max
and I rolled my eyes.

Instead of going back to the hotel after the
garden party, I had Henry drive us straight to the stage. Nicholas
had stage clothes already here, and I would have only changed into
a dress suit before coming out. The dress was too pretty to shelf
so quickly.

“Sure does.” Max winked. “Those shoes are
great, Stilts. Don’t think you’ve worn those ones yet.”

“What is your obsession with my shoes?” I
asked shaking my head. “They’re just shoes.”

“That make your legs look like a celestial
carving of alabaster.” Arc wiggled his eyebrows.

“Poetry, Arc?” I batted my eye lashes at him.
“Are you declaring your intentions?”

I had the great pleasure of seeing him
flush.

A loud crashing sound had me jolt and second
later, Guy staggered into the room, his head bleeding.

“Oh my God,” I raced over and pushed him into
the nearest chair. “Are you okay? What happened? Someone get me a
first aid kit.”

“Ah, Nick.” Guy’s eyes focused in for a
second then out.

The crashing sounds continued and I knew what
he didn’t say. Son of a bitch. Not when there was supposed to be a
concert in an hour.

“Max, clean up his head, get a wet cloth.
Guy, lean back and close your eyes. Take a few minutes.”

Arc grabbed my arm. “You’re not going over
there.”

I shrugged him off. “It’s my job.”

The vase of flowers smashed against the wall
next to the door when I stepped in. I deserved brownie points for
not flinching or dropping to the ground in fear. Nicholas stood on
the far side of the mess leaning against the broken, wall height
vanity mirror wearing only his stage pants.

“Nicholas Sebastian Walker! Don’t you dare
throw another damn thing or I’ll take the belt to you again. I
swear you weren’t spanked enough as a child.”

“Get out,” he roared spinning around to face
me. “Get the fuck out.”

I marched across the wreckage of the room,
and thankfully my heels put me at eye level to him. I lifted a hand
and slapped him across the face with all the force I could muster.
I’d officially had enough of his anger to last a lifetime. “Don’t
you fucking talk to me like that. I am so sick and tired of your
fucking childish behavior. Act like a grown fucking adult.”

The hand that had slapped across his face was
grabbed at the wrist so fast I barely had time to protest. His
rapid movement blocked the hand I raised against his naked chest
denying me leverage to shove him away. He twisted us around and
pinned me to the mirror with his body. The breath knocked out of me
and then rushed back so fast I sounded like I had run a mile. He
didn’t notice.

My hand was pulled above my head and firmly
shoved against the cold glass. His free hand caught my flailing
hand and pushed that up to rest next to my other hand.

His mouth wasn’t gentle against mine. His
teeth nipped and his stubble burned. His anger translated all too
clearly in his hard press and ragged breathing.

I didn’t fight him. I wasn’t strong enough to
fight him, I knew that. And fighting him could make things a hell
of a lot worse.

Closing my eyes I waited for the storm to
pass. I wasn’t sure what I would do, could do if he tried anything
other than kiss me and the fear of that send a trickle of tears
down my cheek.

My heart stumbled then picked up and rapped
against my ribcage in the fleeting beats of terror. My stomach
roiled and churned. I fisted my hands and tried to close everything
off, tried to bring back my calm.

I didn’t want to remember the violent anger;
the beatings until I was subdued and had no strength left in me to
fight. I didn’t want the memories of my distant past out of their
box and polluting my head with their lies.

You’re too fat. You’re too ugly. You’ll never
amount to anything. You’re worthless. Be grateful you have us. Be
grateful we take care of you. Be grateful we love you.

They were wrong. That wasn’t love. That had
been sick obsession that killed a man and nearly killed me.

I felt Nicholas’s forehead rest against mine
when he drew away from my mouth. His breathing was still uneven,
and hard. He turned his head enough to rub his cheek against bare
skin. I was somewhere between panting and sobbing and took great
deep breaths to regain control.

“Songbird.” His anger appeared drained but I
didn’t open my eyes to find out. “I—”

“Please get your clothes and go over to the
other dressing room to finish getting ready.” My voice was
deceptively calm and steady, but my body shook. I couldn’t control
the violent tremors and I didn’t try.

He released my hands, stepped back a pace but
I still felt the heat from his body. I let my hands fall to my
sides but I made no other move. I felt his fingers wipe the wet
streak on my cheek.

“Songbird…” Something churned in his voice
that I didn’t have the strength or courage to examine at the
moment.

“Walker, I’m asking you to give me some time.
Please.” My voice cracked but I still didn’t move. I couldn’t move
yet. Fear had broken my legs.

He wiped the tears on my other cheek but
didn’t say anything. I heard him move around and then the quiet
click of the door.

When I opened my eyes, I confirmed I was
alone. I raced on wobbly legs over to the bathroom and stumbled
against the porcelain basin as my stomach lost its contents. My
body racked with shakes and I couldn’t rise from the floor when I
finished. I curled up and waited for it to pass.

He hadn’t physically hurt me. I knew he
wouldn’t. Nicholas wouldn’t hurt me. I made sure that thought, that
idea was solid and undoubtable. Nicholas would never physically
hurt me.

I wasn’t scared of his fists. I had a feeling
the kiss had been an extension of his fist in a way, but it still
hadn’t been a physical strike. There was more than one way to lash
out at someone, after all.

The problem was the very real pressure of his
tense and angry body. The very real edges of the violence in him
had triggered memories I had never wanted to revisit. If those
hadn’t triggered, if the fear hadn’t nearly eaten me alive, being
kissed by him even in temper wouldn’t have been so bad.

Maybe if I had even an ounce of vanity, or
higher self-esteem then I might have anticipated this reaction and
could have protected against it. But… Men didn’t attack the fat
chick or the ugly one or the pathetic, shy, introverted loser. I
was supposed to be safe.

“Miss Sheridan?” Henry’s voice called out and
I heard the door open. “Jesus Almighty.” Fast steps crossed the
room to where I lay with eyes closed and curled up on the bathroom
floor.

“Are you hurt?” His hand was gentle on my
cheek.

“No. Scared myself shitless facing off with
Nicholas like that, but I’m not injured.” My voice was weak but
steady. I had been drained by the encounter and the aftermath. I
needed a few minutes more to recharge.

“Your wrists are bruised.” Henry corrected
and he sounded less than pleased.

“He just held on too tight. He didn’t strike
out.” Not with his hands anyway but Henry didn’t need to know
that.

“Open your eyes for me.”

I did as asked and stared at the gentle
giant. “Really, I’m just trying to get the fear back in its box.” I
tried for a frail smile. “Facing Nicholas’s full blown anger like
that was stupid.”

His eyes searched my face and apparently were
satisfied. “Can you stand?”

I let him help me to my feet and I brushed
the debris from my dress. I didn’t move yet—my legs still felt
shaky—so I glanced around the mess in the room beyond the
bathroom.

“This is going to cost a fortune to satisfy
the vendor.”

Henry took a survey. “Not the worst he’s
done. Do you know what set him off? When he came over to the other
room he was still angry but I think at himself.”

“His ass might still be sore from the
belting.” I shrugged trying for nonchalant. “Honestly, I have no
idea what sets off his mood swings. He has PMS worse than I
do.”

“You belted him?” Henry’s brows rose.

“How do you think I got him off the hotel
clerk?”

He laughed. “My God. I’d have loved to have
seen that.”

“Well, I didn’t get to see the result of the
belt, but I wasn’t gentle.”

He shook his head still laughing, “I don’t
think that would have bothered him. Ezra has done some cruel shit
when Nick gets in a pissy mood. Might have been the cold shoulder
you were giving him. He doesn’t like to be ignored.”

I shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”

“Maybe.” Henry offered his arm much as he had
earlier to a lesser woman.

I slid my hand into his elbow and was pleased
when my legs didn’t shake crossing to the door. “Thank you,
Henry.”

“Don’t want you falling on something sharp.”
Henry smiled. “Would be a shame. You’re a really good person.”

“I try.” I squared my shoulders and faced the
cracked door of the other dressing room. “I’ll be fine now.”