The Farther I Fall (16 page)

“This isn't about my mother. I'm not keeping secrets about who I am. Jesus, Lucas, it's like discovering I've been dating a member of the royal family.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he sat back from her. “‘Keeping secrets'? Are we going to talk about keeping secrets now?”

She turned around. “Why, is there something else you haven't told me?”

She would have sworn he flinched, but he was fast to recover. “Where did the gun come from, Gwen?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Were you planning to tell me that you were keeping in touch with my brother behind my back?”

It was a slap across the face. “I wasn't—it's not like that, surely you don't think—”

“No, I don't,” he said. “But he's weaseled his way in here just the same, pushing to get you to do things his way.”

“He wants to help—”

“He wants to help on his terms, like always. Did he offer to pay you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you take it?”

“No!” How had this happened? Her stomach twisted in knots and her mind raced. “I just—he wanted me to keep you safe, and I wanted to keep you safe. I'll give it back, if that's what you want.” She'd have to find another one, because there was no way in hell she was going to stay unarmed, not while someone was out there.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was soft. “Is there anything else you're not telling me?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice. Her throat ached, tight and burning in her neck. She still hadn't told him about the electrical problems, but did that matter? He knew there'd been sabotage. He didn't need to know the full extent.

“So neither one of us has been one hundred percent truthful and up-front.”

“I'm sorry.” The words came out in a croak.

“Well, for what it's worth, I am too.” He beckoned to her. “Come back and sit down.”

She let him pull her into his arms and she curled against him. “I didn't know what else to do.”

“Shh.” The fire crackled and the only other sound was that of their breathing. “In this case, he's not wrong.” He kissed her hair. “I'm glad you took his help, because I would have been a stubborn ass and said no.”

Gwen closed her eyes and let the warmth from the fire and from Lucas's body seep into her. This was something entirely new. The people she chose to have around her in her everyday life were either exciting or soothing. There had been no one before who was both. The very same man who made her heart race and her thoughts grow dim with the rush of adrenaline could calm her with the brush of his lips against her hair. It meant something—something important and scary.

She must have been dozing in his arms, because the next she knew he was gently shaking her. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”

They got ready for bed in quiet, side by side, and once they were snuggled in together in that ridiculous bed, she was actually more awake. She rested her head against Lucas's chest.

“I left home a month before I graduated from high school,” he said, so softly that at first she thought she'd heard wrong. “I needed to leave this behind me.”

“What happened?” She tilted her head up, resting her chin on her hands.

“It doesn't matter now; it was a long time ago. Thing is, I didn't come back here for nearly ten years.” He stroked her hair and she felt her muscles begin to soften and loosen. “I forget, sometimes, what it was like to live here.” After kissing the top of her head, he said, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I honestly didn't think about it.”

“Lee said things were bad.”

“I really wish he hadn't said that.”

He sounded so unhappy that Gwen wanted to take her words back, but the compulsion to push on was stronger. “Did he leave too?”

“Not when I did, and not for as long.” Lucas sighed. “It was never as bad for him. He'll tell you as much. Why would it be? Look at him. He's the sort of son any father would dream of having.”

“Oh God. I'm sorry.” It wasn't difficult to imagine how a particular type of father might react to having Lucas for a son, especially compared to Lee. Her feelings sat like a stone in her belly. “I'm sorry I brought it up.”

He ruffled the back of her hair and gave her a small smile. “What about you? Let me guess, your mother wishes you were the type to stay home and bake cookies?”

She snorted. “Did you ever see
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
My parents were George and Martha, only at Cambridge.”

“Ah God,” he winced. “So neither one of us comes from the best family.” His arms tightened around her. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I overreacted at you.”

Out in the hallway, a grandfather clock struck. “Midnight,” Lucas said, kissing her. “Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas.” She returned the kiss, wriggling until she was on his chest. “I might have a present for you right here.”

“Oh lucky me—and it's already unwrapped.”

***

“Oh, Lucas, I wish you and Gwen could stay a few more days.” Maureen Wheeler stood in the entryway with them, one hand in Lucas's, one hand in Gwen's. “I haven't seen you in so long, and I've barely gotten to know Gwen.”

Lucas kissed her on the cheek. “I know. I'll bring her back sometime, I promise. We've got a show tomorrow night in Charleston, and we've got to get back.”

“I swear, I don't understand how you can be happy, traveling all the time. You and Lee both. I don't know where you got it from.”

“Speaking of Lee, where is he?” Gwen asked.

“He's going to drive us to the airport.”

Maureen pulled Lucas into her arms and gave him a hug. “I'm glad the two of you are talking again. Your father would be proud.”

Gwen didn't miss the pained look that flickered over Lucas's face before his mother let him go. “Yeah, well,” he said, “I guess we both just needed to grow up a little.”

“I'm proud of you.” Maureen squeezed his shoulders. “For everything.”

“Everything? Even the time I smashed the window in the study with my toy cars?” Lucas raised his eyebrows.

“Almost everything,” she amended. She opened her arms to Gwen and gave her a quick hug as well. “Make him bring you back,” she said.

“I'll do what I can,” Gwen assured her.

A horn sounded from outside. “Mom, we have to go.”

As they hurried across the lawn to Lee's waiting car, Lucas nudged her. “So you survived my family.”

“We both did.” Gwen grinned at him and started sprinting for the car.

“Hey!”

She beat him there handily and claimed the passenger seat over his protests. “Fine,” he said, “I'll just sleep the whole way to the airport.” In response, Lee cranked up the stereo, blasting a song from Lucas's latest album. “Oh God,” Lucas groaned, “turn that shit off.”

“I see you've broken him of his massive ego,” Lee said.

“I don't get credit for that.” Gwen grinned back at Lucas. “I think he's sick of hearing it by now.”

“Aren't you?” Lucas reached between the seats for the stereo.

Gwen slapped his hand. “Never.” She did, however, turn it down to a slightly more reasonable volume.

“All right,” Lee said as they turned out of the drive. “Now that we're safely out of earshot of Mom and the servants: have there been any other incidents I haven't heard about?”

“No.” Lucas flopped back and laid down in the backseat. “It's all been fine.”

Lee looked to Gwen and she narrowed her eyes. “Not since Memphis,” she said, and gave her head the tiniest shake. He gave her an equally discreet nod in return; they'd talk later.

Aloud, he said, “Detroit police still haven't found anything useful. They've questioned a few people, but hotel staff has ultimately been helpful but useless. No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she'll give up now,” Lucas said. “Or get thrown in jail for something else.”

“Maybe.” Lee sounded like he believed that about as much as Gwen did. “If one more thing happens though, you gotta bring the FBI in. If she's following you across state lines, that's federal.” Lucas muttered, but otherwise didn't protest. “I promise not to interfere,” Lee said. “Much.”

Gwen watched the show in Portland with a full heart. Even with everything that had happened, Lucas performed as if nothing were amiss. Craig and Cathy and Sally and the rest had pulled together and prepped for the show without her, and she felt certain that absolutely no one outside of the crew and the venue staff knew that anything unusual was going on.

Her muscles were sore, both from the job and from the workout she was getting between shows; she was grateful that the bites and bruises that Lucas had given her were hidden beneath her usual clothes. Their presence was constant in her awareness, a small secret pleasure. As much as he loved when she took control, he liked to play rough with her too; the surprise was how much it turned her on. She smiled again, unable to do anything else every time she thought of it.

It wasn't just her. Sitting in the sound booth with Craig and Cathy was damn near like being in a honeymoon suite. Gwen hadn't seen them smile so much at each other in over a week.

The only thing marring her peace of mind was the continued lack of news about the stalker. Lucas tried to keep insisting that she'd given up. Lee promised to have extra hands to them soon. “Gwen, if nothing else, I will send private security your way if I have to,” Lee said. “Since my brother is determined to be in denial about this.”

The show ended with three encores before the audience finally let Lucas go free. Gwen was backstage when he came off the final time, and she draped a towel around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The crowd was still screaming his name. “No autographs this time,” Gwen said.

Lucas nodded, using the end of the towel to wipe his face. “No crowds, I know.” She walked behind him all the way to the green room, her eyes darting left and right at the usual collection of backstage people. The unfamiliar faces were easy to spot, and her hand never strayed far from the grip of the Sig. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't going to be a second attempt to take Lucas from her. She gave him half an hour to make nice with the local VIPs, then made an excuse of an early start the next morning and herded him back to the hotel room. Despite the relatively short distance, they took a cab from one door to the other.

“They're going to talk, you know.” He leaned his head against the upholstery.

“Let them. We're leaving town tomorrow.”

She had cause to reconsider that later, when they were back in their hotel room, joined by Cathy and the others.

Craig said it first. “Heard someone say they thought you were high, and that's why we dragged you out of there so fast.”

“Shit, that's going to get around fast.” Sally sank down to the floor, leaning her head against the suite's couch.

“Sam knows what's going on.” Gwen handed Lucas a bottle of water and kept an eye on him until he cracked it open and drank some.

“Still, if it hits the papers . . .”

“Let it.” Lucas had been quiet until now, and everyone turned to him. “Gwen's right. The suits know the truth, so what's the worst that could happen? We sell a few extra tickets to folks who are hoping to catch an onstage meltdown?” He grinned, and the go-to-hell light in his eyes reminded her of nothing so much as some of her old mates in Afghanistan, the ones who were half-mad for a chance at combat.

“You mad bastard, you're enjoying this.” She settled against him and grinned back. It was easy to be relaxed here behind locked doors.

“Well no, not the being locked up and escorted everywhere part.” He put an arm around her. “But I always like it when people are talking about me.”

Cathy snorted. “Well at least he's honest.”

“Speaking of honest,” Craig said, slipping up behind Cathy and leaning over her shoulder, “Cathy's decided it's time to make an honest man of me.”

Gwen's eyebrows shot up; she saw a similar expression on everyone else's face. Cathy was blushing, and she elbowed Craig in the ribs. “Stop it.”

“You're getting married?” Sally said it first.

“Eventually,” Cathy said.

Gwen caught her eye and murmured, “And Nashville?”

Cathy smiled up at Craig. “No Nashville. We stay on the road. Whatever happens with Tyler, neither one of us is giving up our careers. And”—she pulled Craig's arms around her waist—“if I see him so much as look at another groupie again, I'm going to kick his ass.”

Gwen wanted to be dubious, but found she couldn't in the face of Cathy's smile. Lucas pulled her to her feet and they both went to congratulate the couple. “Then I'd say that calls for another drink,” he said. Looking around the room, Gwen saw that everyone else seemed to agree, and she tried to relax again and accept that something good had happened.

***

“Have you seen my makeup case?”

Gwen laughed. “That is a phrase I never expected to hear from my boyfriend.” They'd stayed up too late the night before and were rushing to pack for the trip to San Francisco. Thankfully, it was a short trip, but they still had a schedule to keep.

Lucas still hadn't found time to get dressed in anything but a half-open bathrobe, something he used to his advantage when he caught her around the waist. “And you love it.”

“It is pretty hot,” she agreed. He was better at it than she was, and it really wasn't fair. When he did wear it—onstage or off—he knew how to accent his eyes. They kissed for a few minutes they couldn't spare before she pulled away. Halfway to the bathroom, she spotted the missing case, half-open and shoved beneath a pile of clothes. “Here it i—” As she bent to grab it, she misjudged and knocked it over instead. “Damn it.”

He hurried to her and roughly shouldered her aside before she could start picking things up. “Hey,” she protested.

“Sorry, you don't have to help.” Bending over the case, he started stretching and reaching, moving with frantic speed. “Can you go check the bathroom and see if I left anything in there?”

She didn't move. He was acting suspicious, and she spotted the reason why. Lucas snatched up a small glass vial and glanced back to see if she was still standing there.

“Hand it to me.”

He handed it over. “It's not what you think it is.”

The vial in her hand was exactly what she thought it was, unless he'd taken to carrying around vials of a different white powder.
This is not a betrayal, this is not a betrayal. This is an illness and you are not to blame.
Gwen tried to repeat the words to herself even though she wasn't sure she believed them. “Is this why you couldn't sleep last night?” She kept her voice as calm as she could. No accusations, no hint of how angry she was.

“I haven't used it. You can test me!”

“Then why do you have it? Where did it come from?” That was sharper than she wanted, but goddamn it, Lucas.

“Christmas Eve,” he said. “I called an old friend.”

“You mean ‘dealer'? Christmas Eve was weeks ago.” Had she really thought she was ready to fight this fight again? Encouraging Sam to get sober, that was hard, but it hadn't hurt this much when Sam lied to her. “Have you been saving it for a special occasion?”

He stepped toward her and she tensed, expecting him to make a grab for the coke. Instead he touched her other arm. “Gwen, I swear to you. I had a bad moment. I got some bad news, and I—broke a little. It's all there. It's a gram—I didn't even open it.”

“So why still carry it with you?” She pulled her arm away. He looked ready to cry, and the hell of it was, she couldn't tell if they were real or crocodile tears.

“I don't know!” He tangled his fingers in his hair, tugging on it. “It just—it seemed stupid to throw it away and stupider to keep it . . .”

“Well.” She folded her arms like a disapproving parent. That was the worst part, this parental feeling. This wasn't her responsibility, damn it. “Do you want it back? I mean, it's not like we have anything else to worry about right now. We've got someone sabotaging theaters—”

“What do you mean ‘theaters'?” he said. Heat rose in her cheeks. She hadn't meant to reveal as much. “It happened more than once?”

She didn't answer.

“Gwen?” He stepped closer. “Tell me. You didn't think that was something I needed to know?”

“St. Louis.” She wouldn't meet his eyes. “The electrical problems were suspicious.”

“Were you ever planning on telling me?”

She tried to swallow, but her mouth had dried up. “I—we weren't sure if it was sabotage.”

He reached out and caught her arm as she started to turn away. “Who else knew?”

“Me, one of the stage crew. Craig.” She paused. “Lee.”

He sighed and let her go. “Goddamn it, Gwen.”

“What was I supposed to do? You weren't taking it seriously.” She dangled the vial in front of him. “You're still not.”

“Maybe if I'd known all of the details I would have.”

“Bollocks,” she said. “You've been perfectly happy to let people take care of you your entire life. Why would you start now?”

“How much more does he know that I don't?” Lucas asked.

“That's all,” she said. “He's got some people looking into the staff that were transferred or sacked when you got out of rehab. Lee thought, if one of them wanted you, and then thought they'd lost you . . . They were looking at your ex-boyfriend, but, well . . .”

“Yeah, not him.”

“What I'm trying to get through to you is that now is not a good time to get high,” she said.

“Just tell me one more time, Gwen: Is there anything else you're not telling me?”

“This is not about me right now,” she said. Every instinct she had said to take the vial and flush its contents, but she couldn't. He had to be the one, not her. “Me not telling you something you didn't need to know is not the same thing as you carting around a vial of cocaine. Did you stop to think about what would happen if you got searched? Do you think anybody would believe you when you said you weren't using it? Did you think about how many of us might lose their jobs—including me?”

“No.” He sank down on the edge of the bed. Her mobile rang. Craig, probably—they were running late, but to hell with the schedule.

“No, I'm sure you didn't.” She handed him back the vial. “I've got to finish packing, and so do you. You do with that whatever you think you need to.” She wanted to do more. She wanted to rant and rave and threaten and give ultimatums—but none of that would help. Either he'd throw it away or he wouldn't. The hardest thing she did was to turn away and go back to packing her things.

***

The flight into San Francisco was two hours late, denting an already tight schedule. From the minute they stepped off the plane, Gwen started making calls, trying to get back on schedule. There was no time to go to the hotel, so they headed straight for the theater, sending their luggage on to the rooms with Sally. Lucas had been all but hovering at Gwen's side all day, like a kicked dog. She knew this dance. He'd fucked up, he knew he had, and he wanted to get back on her good side. It would be all apologies until the next time. She tried not to let it show to anybody else that she was ready to kill him.

The theater was one of the largest they'd played yet, the auditorium vast, the Art Deco interior badly in need of restoration. Lucas flung himself into one of the theater seats while Gwen, Craig, and Cathy went to work. With Sally at the hotel, the merch setup fell to Gwen. Lucas followed her to the lobby. Her eyes were already stinging with fatigue, and by the end of the night she knew she'd be just this side of falling over thanks to too many sleepless nights of worry.

“Lucas, go take a nap or something. We'll be fine.” Gwen hauled boxes onto the table and started opening them. “When Sally gets back she can run you back over to the hotel.” He'd be alone, but at least he'd be behind a locked door.

“I can help here.” He frowned when Gwen laughed at him.

“No, you can't. Come on, you need the energy for tonight.” He looked as drawn as she felt. “At least one of us should be alert.”

“Fine.” He went back into the theater, and she bit back a grimace at how much he'd sounded like a cranky toddler.

Hours later, after the show, Gwen stood in her now-customary place behind Lucas as he signed autographs and posed for photos. It was a grabby crowd. So far she'd stepped in to pry two teen girls off Lucas, plus one boy who'd managed to grab him by the shoulders and kiss him. It was getting old, fast.

Finally the crowd thinned, and Gwen and Lucas left the lobby. “Oh, hang on,” she said. She ducked into the manager's office. “Jeff! Hey, how did we do tonight?”

Jeff, a tall, bear-like man, looked at her oddly. “Huh?”

“The receipts?”

“One of your people picked them up already,” he said. “Did well, though!”

Gwen frowned. Had she asked Craig to take care of it? She rubbed at her forehead, trying to remember. She had in Seattle, but not in Portland . . . Shit. “Er, great. Thanks.” They shook hands, and she went back with Lucas to the green room.

When they got there, she went over and thumped Craig on the shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of the money for me. I forgot I asked.”

“You didn't.” Craig handed her a beer.

“Oh. Well definitely thanks then,” she said, and clinked her bottle to his. The look on his face made her pause. “What?”

“Gwen, I didn't pick anything up.”

“But I just saw Jeff, and he said—” She turned to the rest of the room. Lucas had been with her, and couldn't have been bothered to go to the office at any rate. Sally was over on the love seat with Cathy, and Gwen hurried over to them. She crouched and kept her voice low. “Sally, you didn't pick up the take tonight, did you?”

“God no, why would I do that?” Sally said. “Not my job.”