The Rocker Who Hates Me (The Rocker 10) - Page 2

I tried to shift Mia so that when I fell I wouldn’t hurt her, but knew that there was no getting past it. It was either take her with me, or let her go and risk Hoodie taking her again.

Fucking hell, that hurts like a bitch. That was my last thought as my knees buckled and the world started to go dark.

CHAPTER ONE

LIAM

My heart was pounding more now than it had on the run I’d taken earlier with Linc.

Everything was on lockdown.

No one was allowed in or out of the stadium. Police had everyone detained until Mia Armstrong could be found. If she could be found. I’d barely stepped through the door when Marissa had barged onto my bus, but before she could even open her mouth Dallas had run in saying we had to find Mia.

Since then we had been divided into groups to search for the little girl. I’d gone with Dallas, Emmie, and the bodyguard named Peterson. I was terrified for the Emmie’s little girl, shaking with reaction from the possibility that my friends could have lost their daughter forever. If I was taking it like this then I couldn’t even imagine what Emmie and Nik must have been feeling.

I followed Emmie, checking the opposite side of the street but keeping up with her as much as I could while still looking everywhere a small little girl could hide or be hidden. Dallas, even while pregnant, was moving faster than any of us. She and Peterson were farther ahead and I was sure that it was to make sure Emmie didn’t stumble onto something that would send her into a nervous breakdown.

“It’s her!” Dallas called out.

Relief washed over me and I left the small alley I’d just been looking down. There had been a trashcan, and the smell of something rotting coming from the drain beside the dumpster. I’d been praying that I would find Mia even as I had prayed I wouldn’t. The smell of death that had been coming from that drain had made bile churn in my stomach as thoughts of it being Mia had…

I saw Emmie and Mia first. Emmie was holding onto her daughter as if she were her lifeline. Her shoulders were shaking, whether from sobs or reaction, I couldn’t tell from back where I was.

“T-that m-m-mean lady tried to t-take m-me, Momma,” Mia wailed. “I-I’m s-s-sorry I-I was b-bad.”

“Oh baby. It’s okay. You’re okay. Momma’s got you now. No one is going to take you. Okay?”

“A-a-aunt Gabs s-s-saved me,” she whispered brokenly. “H-help her, Momma. Help her.”

Mia’s plea for her mother to help “Aunt Gabs” hit me wrong. I didn’t know how, but I just knew who “Aunt Gabs” was. I’d heard it so many times on the weekends when I was living with Gabriella that hearing it then, coming from that scared little baby’s mouth, made everything inside of me freeze. Despite the horror of the past half hour or so, I suddenly felt as if I was in a dream as I looked past Emmie and Mia and turned my eyes on Dallas and Peterson for the first time.

They were on their knees on the broken concrete of the street, both doing CPR on the lifeless person lying on the ground. I had no idea if it was the person who had taken Mia or not, but that didn’t seem to matter to my brain as I took a shaky step forward and saw her face for the first time.

No, my brain whispered. No. God, please. No!

Everything inside of me seemed to shut down for a minute. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking see anything but that pale, beautiful face that haunted my dreams.

“Brie!” Her name felt like it was being torn from my chest as the night air filled with my scream and I fell to my knees beside her. In less than a second, I took in everything that was really going on. She was lying there, not breathing, and there was so much blood. So. Much. Blood. “What happened? Why is there so much blood?”

“Gunshot,” Peterson bit out as he pressed down on her chest, continuing to give Gabriella life-saving CPR. “Two to the chest.”

“Liam, focus.” Dallas grabbed my hand when I reached out to touch Gabriella’s face, snapping me out of the daze I was starting to fall into. “The paramedics are on their way, but this street is deserted. Go meet them.”

I just sat there, my sweats soaking up the blood of the only person who could ever really hold my heart in her hand, not really understanding the words coming from my friend’s mouth. There was blood smeared across her forehead, as if she’d used her bloody hand to brush hair out of her eyes. Her blue eyes were bright with some emotion I couldn’t put a name to because I was numb to everything else but the pain ripping through my chest. Dallas tightened her hold on my hand. “Don’t fall apart on me, Liam. Not now. Gabriella needs you. Every second counts. Go meet the paramedics, show them where we are. She has two bullets in her chest. They are still inside her, Liam. Do you understand? No exit wounds. She needs more help than I can give her right now.”

That snapped me out of it and I was on my feet and running. Dallas was a nurse. She knew what she was talking about. If she said that Gabriella needed more help, then I was going to get it for her. As I ran I began to whisper a prayer, that whoever might have been watching over my Brie would protect her until I could get back to her.

The sound of sirens caught my attention and I saw the flashing lights as they quickly approached. I ran faster and started waving my arms to get their attention. The paramedics started to slow down but I didn’t want to speak to them, didn’t want them to waste so much as a nanosecond of time getting to my girl. Talking took up too much time, and time was not on Gabriella’s side at the moment.

I turned and started running back the way I’d just come, running faster than I’d ever run in my life, glancing over my shoulder only once to make sure that the ambulance was right behind me. As soon as I reached them and saw that Peterson and Dallas had switched positions, with Dallas doing compressions and Peterson breathing air into Gabriella’s mouth, I went straight back to my girl.

Dropping down next to her, I grabbed her hand and lifted it to my lips. Her fingers were cold, her hand lying limp in my tight grip. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. No way would God punish me like this. I had given Gabriella up, had pushed her as far as possible out of my life knowing that I was nothing but trouble for her. She deserved so much better than a junkie who would only bring her down. I’d given her up, made the greatest sacrifice I’d ever had to make in my entire life.

I’d only been able to survive this without her beside me because I knew she would be better off, but also because she was still out there. Somewhere. She still had her whole life in front of her, and as long as she was healthy and happy, then I could stay strong.

But if she weren’t, if she were taken from this world and God didn’t take me too…

Then life wasn’t really worth it, was it?

The sound of Dallas shouting orders to the two paramedics had me dropping Gabriella’s cold little hand and moving out of the way. I wasn’t going to hinder anyone helping her, even if everything inside of me was screaming to hold onto her as tightly as possible.

A cool hand touched my arm and I jerked in surprise as I lifted my eyes to meet the wet, green eyes of Emmie Armstrong. She stood over me, holding a blood-soaked, still-sobbing Mia tightly against her. “I’m going to take Mia to Nik and then I will be right behind the ambulance. Stay strong, Liam. I’ll take care of everything else. Just stay strong.”

“Y-you will?” I muttered, confused. Why would Emmie help Gabriella? They hated each other. It wasn’t just Emmie who hated Gabriella. My girl hated Emmie just as much, and it was my fault. I was the one who caused the initial feud between them. I’d lit the match that had sent them in opposing corners, ready to come out swinging the second the bell rang.

The question must have been in my eyes because she grimaced and held her daughter even tighter. “Because right now, I owe her everything. Not even my own life is enough to repay her for saving Mia.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded at her explanation. Emmie turned away from the chaos that was going on around me, taking Mia back to the safety of her

father’s arms.

And I prayed harder.

The next ten minutes felt like they took a lifetime, yet were over in almost the blink of an eye. The medics and Dallas moved quickly, loading Gabriella up, putting in an IV, putting a manual oxygen mask over her face and squeezing air into her lungs while Dallas climbed onto the gurney with her to continue doing compressions that kept Gabriella’s heart pumping.

I jumped into the front seat with the driver, and he didn’t even give me a second glance as he turned his sirens back on and drove like the hounds of hell were chasing us toward the closest hospital. I had a sudden vision that we were racing something straight out of hell. We were racing Death, and he was hot on our heels after my girl. My everything.

When we reached the hospital, things moved even faster, but the vision of the man in the black cloak vanished from my mind and I was able to breathe just a little easier. The trauma team was already there, waiting and ready to take over, but Dallas never moved from her position on top of Gabriella even as they transferred her from one gurney to another and ran toward the elevators. I stood with Peterson as the doors shut behind them, stabbing my fingers through my hair, not caring that I was smearing blood everywhere.

“Where are they taking her?” I demanded of the first nurse I saw.

“She’s being taken straight into surgery, sir. The patient has two bullets still inside of her somewhere. They are more dangerous inside than out.” Her kind eyes drifted over me from head to toe, taking in my blood-stained clothes, the smears on my cheeks and forehead and the tears blinding my eyes. “Let me show you where you can get cleaned up.”

“No,” I growled. I didn’t give a fuck about what I looked like. I just wanted to be somewhere closer to her. Damn it, I wanted to switch places with Gabriella, take the pain she was in. Fight death for her. Go to hell in her place if God would just take me instead. “No, just show me where I can wait.”

She nodded and turned for the elevators, a different set than those that had just taken Gabriella away from me. Peterson followed, staying close, but I didn’t really notice or care. Around me, the hospital was starting to turn into a circus freak show, with nurses stopping to stare and whisper as I passed. With all the scandals I’d caused in the past with my drug abuse and other bullshit, I was easily recognizable. Soon the reporters would be swarming the place and I would have no privacy, but right then and there none of that mattered.

All I wanted was for my Brie to live.

***

I couldn’t sit down.

The OR waiting area wasn’t overly crowded, although there were a few families spread out around the room. Anxiety was raging through me and I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting. So I paced from one side of the room to the other. I didn’t feel the eyes of the others following me, didn’t see the flash of someone’s smartphone as they snapped a few pictures.

I was blind to the outside world, instead trapped in my own personal hell. Question after question was tearing through my mind like a hot blade. Why was Brie even at the rock festival? I hadn’t known she was going to be there until one of the roadies had mentioned that he’d seen her bus just before OtherWorld had taken the stage.

How had she found Mia?

Which left me wanting to find the motherfucker and tear them apart with my bare hands. I could do it. I had the strength, and with the mixed martial arts that Linc had been adding to our workouts lately, I could do it a lot more easily. My hands balled into fists as I fantasized about how I would destroy the person who might have taken my soul away from me.

Two cold, soft hands landed on my shoulders. I turned without thinking, ready to fight whoever had grabbed me, my fist raised at the ready. Dallas stood there, no fear in her tired blue eyes. I dropped my fists, forcing them to relax at my sides. I ran my gaze over the girl who was quite possibly my best friend in the world.

There were bloody finger smears all over her pale face. Her long blond hair was disheveled; most of her ponytail was down around her shoulders. Her clothes were even more blood-soaked than my own, gluing her shirt to her small baby-bump.

“H-how is she?” I whispered, unable to force my voice any louder. It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask, but the only one I could bear to let leave my throat.

Dallas seemed to understand that. One blood-covered hand lifted and squeezed at her neck as she blew out a long, tired breath. “I don’t know what to tell you at the moment, Liam. Things didn’t look good when they forced me out of the operating room. They have to go in and find the bullets, which could be anywhere, and who knows what kind of damage they did in there. I’m sorry.”

“What…” I stopped and cleared my throat. “What can I do?”

“Pray, Liam. That’s all anyone can do right now.”

Before I could process that, the waiting room door opened and it was like a tidal wave of craziness began. Emmie walked through the door, followed by some dude in a wrinkled suit, and three security guards. The guards and the guy in the suit went straight to the other families waiting and spoke quietly to each of them.

Within five minutes they were gone, moved to another waiting room on the other side of the same floor. Maybe I should have felt bad that those people had to be moved, but I couldn’t spare so much as a second thought for them. I didn’t give a fuck if those people had sick friends and family that they cared about and were waiting just as anxiously for news about like I was. They didn’t matter, not to me.

The security guards were quickly replaced with big men in suits from Seller’s security firm. I’d seen them all over the last few months, ever since the first attack on Shane and Harper’s bus. Emmie had beefed up security for all of us, but not even that had protected Mia.

The hospital was put on high alert and the OR floor was basically put on lockdown. If you didn’t need to be on this floor, then you weren’t allowed onto it. It was a safety measure for not only Gabriella and probably anyone who was in the waiting room now, but also for the entire hospital. Fans, paps, and any other crazy could have gotten onto the floor to get the story of a lifetime or become the story. The guards would make sure that didn’t happen.

Emmie sat in a chair by the window with her phone pressed to her ear. I spared her one long glance before I continued to pace. Her face was gray, new lines around her mouth and eyes making her look a few years older than she really was. If I was in hell right now, then she was right there with me. I wondered briefly how Mia was doing, what she’d seen tonight. Did she know who had done this to her? Had she seen who had shot Gabriella?

Before I could let the questions consume me, I turned my attention to Dallas who sat alone, rubbing her stomach and watching me. I’d heard parts of the conversation she’d had with Axton, telling him to stay at the bus with their son. She didn’t want Cannon at the hospital and didn’t want anyone but his father to watch him. I could understand that, since all the parents were probably going insane with the near miss with Mia tonight.

Peterson left at some point, but I didn’t notice. He was Harper Stevenson’s personal bodyguard and after the mess that someone had made of her and Shane’s bus tonight, I figured he wanted to be closer to her. Marissa and Wroth arrived but didn’t approach me, just took a seat beside Dallas.

Hours passed. My mind wouldn’t slow down and I felt like I was going to go insane if I didn’t hear some news soon. I’d given up on praying, had started begging and even negotiating. Asking God, the devil—fucking anyone who would listen to my silent pleas—to take me instead. I would gladly give up my life if it meant Gabriella would live.

She had so much to live for, so many people who needed her. Alexis, Jordan, her old bastard of a grandfather…

I groaned and leaned back against one of the walls. I closed my eyes and bent in half. She deserved to live. It should have been me in there, fighting that damn tug of war with Death. I was the fuckup; I was the ex-junkie who’d screwed up my life repeatedly. It should have been me. God, please. Just…please. Take

me. “Fuck.” It was the first word I’d spoken aloud in hours and even to my own ears it sounded broken and hoarse.

“Li?”

My eyes opened to find my sister crouched in front of me, tears in her eyes and her hulk of a husband right behind her. “Rissa,” I murmured and felt my throat burn with yet more tears at the sight of hers. I must have cried a damn river tonight, but I still had more to shed. Rissa should never have to cry. Never. With each one that spilled from her pretty eyes I broke a little more.

Marissa’s soft hands cupped my face, one thumb brushing away a stray tear. “What can I do for you, Li? How can I help?”

“I…” I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to clear it. “Her cousin… Lee-Lee. She needs to know before she hears it on the news.”

“Emmie already called her and her manager. Both are on their way,” Marissa assured me. “The manager was just a few hours away, and Alexis is already on a plane. It’s okay, Li. Emmie is taking care of all of it. Just concentrate on Gabriella…and you.”

Across the room the door opened again and my stomach churned, hoping it was the doctor, praying it wasn’t if there wasn’t going to be good news. But it wasn’t a doctor who walked into the room to tell me if my reason for living was okay or not.

No, it was a blast from the past in the shape of long platinum-blond hair with hot-pink streaks, a curvy body that had once been anything but, and the same attitude that had once made me laugh. My eyes widened and I straightened.

“Annabelle?” Wroth spoke for the first time, apparently just as surprised as I was to see the chick standing there.

I hadn’t seen her in seventeen years, but I would know her anywhere. The girl who had lived between Devlin and Zander when we were growing up. The sister of our original lead singer before he’d decided he didn’t want to be in a rock band but wanted a wife and country music instead.

Tags: Terri Anne Browning The Rocker
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