When OtherWorld had gotten the contract with Rich Branson, we’d moved on and I hadn’t seen either her or Noah since. Although I did know that Noah had made a name for himself in the country music world and I had seen a few stories on him and his family in the tabloids from time to time, no one had heard from Noah or even Annabelle since…
Annabelle Cassidy stepped farther into the room, her eyes taking in the room-at-large before stopping on me. “Is there any news?”
CHAPTER TWO
LIAM
My shock at seeing Annabelle was short lived as the door behind her opened and in walked a man in sweaty, green scrubs. He was a few inches shorter than me, with a wrinkled face and balding gray head. The look in his eyes was tired, but determined.
Determined was good, right?
Please, God. Let it be good.
“I’m Dr. Schiller and I’m going to assume that everyone in this room is here for Gabriella Moreitti.” His voice was low and rough, but I heard him clearly.
Stepping forward, I offered him my trembling hand. “I’m her fiancé,” I rushed to tell him. No way was I going to tell this dude that I was her ex-boyfriend and that I hadn’t spoken to her in over a year. He would probably have the security guards toss my ass out of the hospital. When he shook my hand, I asked the one question I needed the answer to: “How is she?” Please be alive. Please don’t let her have left me.
The doctor motioned toward one of the many empty chairs around the room. “Let’s have a seat.” He sat down in a chair close to Dallas and I took the seat beside him even though I wasn’t sure if I would remain sitting for long.
Everyone else took a seat close to us, watching and listening intently. Even Emmie had put her phone away and had her eyes trained on the doctor. “How is she?” I repeated.
“She’s stable but still in critical condition.” He leaned back in the chair, looking exhausted, and my fear started to choke me. He started talking in doctor lingo and I was lost before he even really began.
I looked past the doctor to Dallas, silently begging her to explain to me what the fuck the doctor was really saying. She scrubbed her blood-stained hands over her face and blew out a long breath. “The bullets ricocheted around inside of her, Liam. It caused a lot of damage. Hit several important organs. He’s stopped the internal bleeding it’s caused, but her lungs got the worst deal. He’s giving her a fifty-fifty chance of making it through the night. If she does, the odds will go up tomorrow in her favor, but not by much. What he’s really saying is that the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours are going to be long ones.”
I knew she wouldn’t sugarcoat the truth, but the reality of what she was saying made my stomach clench and I was pretty sure I’d stopped breathing. The world started to blur, bile rose in the back of my throat. No, I wasn’t going to accept that. I couldn’t. If God took Gabriella, if he took my Brie from this world, then I would follow her. I would be right behind her.
Two strong hands landed on my shoulders and Wroth’s hulk-like form was suddenly right in front of me. “Take a deep breath, brother.” His naturally growly voice replaced the buzzing in my ears and I forced myself to draw a breath.
This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t have a panic attack right now. Gabriella needed me to stay strong, not fall apart like a goddamn pussy. But it was hard to separate the emotions churning inside of me when all I wanted to do was cry like a fucking baby.
Times like this, when life got hard and I didn’t know what to do—when I had no control over anything—was when I used to fall back on the drugs. When I could escape into the numbing fog that they could offer me and I could control the outcome of what was going on inside of me with how much poison I put into my body. I hadn’t touched them since the night Gabriella had thrown me out of her life. I’d cleaned up my act, gone to rehab and actually taken it seriously for the first time with Dallas’s help, and stayed clean this time.
The drugs would have been welcome, would have helped so fucking much right in that moment…
I pushed Wroth back and he went, not because I could actually move him, but because he was willing to go. Turning back to the doctor, I asked the second most important question that needed an answer: “Can I see her?”
Dr. Schiller stood. “We’ve moved her into ICU. If you want to follow me, I’ll take you in to see her. But I can only offer you a few minutes, son.”
“I’ll take anything you give me,” I assured him and stood quickly to follow him.
Behind me I heard Marissa speaking to Wroth. “This is a nightmare. If feels just like when Li had the accident.”
I nearly stumbled as I stepped through the waiting room door. Was this really what that had been like for them? Had they gone through this hell, felt this rollercoaster ride of emotions as they waited for me to wake up after I’d been in the wreck?
Had Gabriella felt what I’m feeling now as she’d sat beside me in ICU?
Fuck, I hoped not. I wouldn’t wish this nightmare on anyone, but especially not my sister or Gabriella.
I kept pace with the doctor. He opened the door to the ICU ward and stepped inside. The place was quiet except for the annoying sounds of heart monitors beep-beep-beeping. I had tunnel vision as he walked past a nurses’ station and then waited as a sliding glass door opened and he stepped inside. I saw nothing but the back of the old doctor’s balding head as he moved forward and stopped beside the hospital bed.
Then, and only then, did I shift my eyes to the girl lying so still on that small bed. My breath suddenly felt trapped in my lungs. I stood there, frozen with a fear that clutched at my heart and seemed to stab its dagger-like fingernails through the middle of that stupid, weak organ.
There were tubes and wires and so many machines hooked up to her. IVs in her arm, putting both fluids and blood back into her and a chest tube sticking out of both her sides. There was a tube down her throat, sticking out of her mouth and attached to a machine that was breathing for her. Monitors were making noises that terrified me. Her long, dark hair was in tangles across her pillow and her once vibrant, olive complexion was now pale and lifeless. My heart rate slowed until it was matching the weak beep-beep-beeping coming from her heart monitor, as if it only wanted to mimic hers.
Should it stop, then so would mine.
Tears blurred my eyes, making it hard to see my little Italian rock goddess. I took a step closer on legs that threatened to buckle, they were shaking so badly. The pain that I almost always felt in the leg that had the rod didn’t even register as I moved toward Gabriella. “C-can I touch her?” I asked the doctor but wasn’t sure if he heard me or not because I had barely whispered the question.
“Of course. It might even help.” He pushed the only chair in the room close to the right side of Gabriella’s bed. “Sit, hold her hand and talk to her. Let the girl know that you are here and give her a reason to fight. Right now, her life is in God’s hands, but she needs to fight for it, too.”
I dropped into the chair and reached out, grasping hold of one cold hand. Mine weren’t much warmer, but I rubbed my fingers over hers, offering all the warmth I could give. The beep-beep-beeping increased for a split second before falling back into its weak rhythm.
“I’ll give you a few minutes alone,” Dr. Schiller muttered and I heard the sliding glass door open and close behind him.
I didn’t bother to turn to see if he was gone. It didn’t matter who heard what I said to her as long as I spoke the words. “Don’t leave me, Brie. Don’t you fucking dare, baby. If you leave, then expect me right behind you. I can’t…I won’t live without you in this world. Do you hear me?” I lowered my head and pressed my trembling lips to the back of her icy hand. “Don’t go, baby. P—” I broke off when my voice cracked and took a moment to get myself under control before I started sobbing like a baby. “Please don’t go.”
CHAPTER THREE
Gabriella
I felt like I was floating, that my mind wasn’t even a part of my body. I could hear
noises but they sounded so far away and echoed a little, as if they were coming from a deep cave or something. I felt no pain, no emotion as I floated.
It was almost kind of peaceful. Almost.
Through the background noises, one stood out more than any other. A voice. His voice. Liam. I struggled to listen, to hear what he was saying, but only caught a few of his words. “…Leave me, Brie. You can’t… Love…me…Go... Baby, please.”
The dreamlike peacefulness started to vanish and my heart twisted painfully. What was he saying? He wanted me to leave him? He didn’t love me? I didn’t understand, refused to believe he wanted me to leave him. Where would I go? How would I fucking survive if he didn’t want me, didn’t love me?
Other noises, more annoying noises, started to drown out the precious sound of his voice. A loud beep-beep-beeping that sounded just like a garbage truck warning as it backed up. It made a weird kind of sense to my fogged-up mind. He was telling me to go, throwing my love back at me like the garbage it must have been to him.
I struggled to breathe through my pain, tried to push it down. Think of something else, Gabriella. Hurry before this pain consumes you. Think of something else.
With a silent moan I turned it all off, and forced my mind onto something else. The sounds faded until I couldn’t even hear Liam’s voice, but that made my chest hurt even worse and I tried to imagine a happier time. A time when I didn’t wonder if Liam loved me, if he wanted to be with me.
Instead I went straight back to the beginning, back to when I had first met Liam Bryant and OtherWorld. It wasn’t peaceful, but at least it made the pain in my chest manageable.
***
SEVEN YEARS EARLIER
For a girl who grew up playing Chopin but dreamed of playing Metallica, getting to tour with not one but two of the hottest rock bands in the world at the moment was a dream come true. I’d spent the majority of my life learning under some of the greatest teachers at Julliard, but not once had I let myself imagine that I would one day get to do what I’d secretly hoped for.
Yet here I was, with my band and our own tour bus, getting ready to tour Europe and then Australia for the next six months as the opening act for OtherWorld and Demon’s Wings.
Our plane had touched down late the night before and we’d been shuttled to the hotel at an ungodly hour. My band, all guys that I’d met at Julliard and who had the same dream as me to take our classical music and turn it into the next amazing rock sound, were all jet-lagged but I’d been full of energy and couldn’t even think of sleeping.
OtherWorld and Demon’s Wings were flying over from Miami, which had been their last stop before starting the European tour. I wasn’t sure how my manager had pulled it off, getting me and the guys on the lineup for the tour, but I was going to give him the biggest fucking kiss the next time I saw him. Craig wasn’t with us, but he’d assured me that if I needed anything, to call him or go straight to Emmie Jameson, the girl who basically ran point for Demon’s Wings.
I’d never met the chick, but I’d heard a lot about her. Who hadn’t? Even at twenty she was a big deal in the rock world. People wanted to sign with Rich Branson in hopes that Emmie Jameson would take them on and work her magic for them like she did for the Demons.
It was nearly dawn and the buses were about to arrive at any minute to get us loaded up. I had taken a shower and then ordered some room service when I got to my room. I wasn’t tired so there wasn’t any use in trying to get any sleep. Zipping up my carry-on, I lifted off my bed and headed for the door. I knocked on my drummer’s door, just to make sure that he was awake before heading for the elevators.
Downstairs things were in complete chaos. I saw people loading up buses that had each band’s artwork on them. Five of them in all, with two for the road crew and one each for the bands. They were smaller than what I would have imagined tour buses to be. Maybe it was a European thing, because the few buses I’d seen back in the States were massive compared to any of these buses.
With everyone running around, scrambling to do their jobs, one person stood out to me as I looked around. A small redhead with the most amazing alabaster skin, and even in the dim predawn light I could tell her big eyes were green. She had a clipboard in one hand and a cell in the other as she typed something one-handed into the smartphone while shouting out orders to people who passed her. This had to be Emmie Jameson.
I debated about whether or not to approach her and introduce myself. I started to take a step in her direction when someone stopped beside her and slung an arm around her small shoulders. My eyes widened when I recognized Axton Cage.
Holy shit! He’s even hotter in person.
That thought had barely filled my mind when I saw Emmie drop the hand holding the phone and smiled up at the man the world had dubbed a rock god. His face changed when she smiled at him, becoming almost soft, and I wondered if they were together. It wouldn’t have surprised me, but I had read an article just a few weeks before that said how sheltered the Demon’s Wings right hand was by the band. With the reputation that Axton Cage had, I was sure that the Demons wouldn’t let her get involved with the rocker if that were the case.
Mentally shrugging, I picked up my carry-on and turned toward the bus that had been decorated with the tour’s logo, figuring that was my bus since the other two were more specific to the other bands. I hadn’t taken more than half a step when I walked right into a wall of maleness.
Yelping, I stumbled back and landed on my ass. Muttering a curse, I glared up at the person who had let me fall on my rear. Long legs, lean waist. Not overly tall, but definitely not short. Shoulders that were lean, but hinted at a strength that suddenly had my panties dampening. Upward my eyes continued to travel until I got to his face.
Embarrassingly my mouth actually dropped open and I gaped up at the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. Never, not even once, had I considered a man to be beautiful, but this one? There just weren’t any other words for him.
Liam Bryant.
And he was laughing at me.
“Hello there, beautiful.” He chuckled as he crouched down in front of me and folded his arms over his knees. Blue eyes shined brightly down at me in a way that I suspected wasn’t only because of his amusement at my expense. Given his reputation, it could have been the drugs he was on, or might have been some of the same instant desire that I was feeling right then and there. Maybe both.
Blowing out an embarrassed sigh, I pushed my hair out of my eyes and offered him my hand. “Don’t just stand there, jackass. Help a girl up.”
“Sexy. I like that slight Italian accent. Does it get thicker when you get pissed…or when a man’s between your legs?” I instantly felt my cheeks fill with heat, not only because I was a little embarrassed but also because I could picture him between my legs, making me cry out in Italian as he gave me one orgasm after another.
His grin grew bigger and he pretended to hesitate a moment before finally taking my hand. As soon as his fingers wrapped around mine, I had a sudden urge to jerk them back. The heat of his hand felt like it was scalding my palm, sending electrical currents up my arm and zapping something in my chest. My heart rate increased as he pulled me to my feet and then roughly against him.
“Easy there, little Brie.”
My eyes narrowed on him as I met his gaze. “Excuse me?”
“You’re Gabriella Moreitti, right? I like ‘Brie’ better,” he murmured in a voice deep with what I could only describe as sexual promises. “Yeah, Brie definitely fits you better, baby. A small, beautiful name for my little goddess.”
Everything inside of me felt like it had touched a white-hot flame. I felt my body tremble as he pushed against me, ever so slightly. There was no mistaking the hardness pressed against my stomach. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Holy hell, I’d never felt attraction so strong in my entire life. The lovers I’d had in the past had never been able to get me this hot—this wet—so quickly. And he hadn’t even really touched me.
>
Yet, a small voice whispered suggestively in the back of my mind.
Swallowing a moan, I shifted my eyes to his lips. I wondered what he tasted like. Would his lips be sweet or spicy? I wanted to discover the answer so damn badly.
I’d never been one to think with my pussy. I liked to think I was smarter than that. Yet, in that moment, I was willing to let it take over and my brain wasn’t really giving me any reason not to dive into discovering how good of a lover the rocker holding me against him actually was.
I tore my eyes from his lips and met his gaze full on, boldly letting him see that I was up for whatever ride he was willing to take me on. Those blue eyes darkened to cobalt and the grin disappeared. “You’re a dangerous one, Brie.” He released his hold on me and stepped back. “I’ll have to remember that,” he called over his shoulder as he turned and left me standing there.
All the heat that had been burning me alive just a moment ago turned into ashes and I felt instantly cold as I watched him walk away. What the fuck was that? I’d pretty much just offered myself up to him and he’d walked away from me. Had the last few minutes been a game to him? Every ounce of desire I’d just been feeling turned into anger and I picked up my carry-on and stomped onto my bus.
Three of my five bandmates were already on there, sorting our things out. Martin, my bass player, gave me a smile as I stepped into what was considered the living room. I knew he had a thing for me, but there was no way I was hooking up with him. The guy was a pig, but he was one hell of a bassist. I pushed past him and down the hall to the roosts where I threw my bag onto the first bed I came to and fell onto the mattress.
Fuck Liam Bryant anyway.
I stayed there for over half an hour before I heard a female voice coming from the front of the bus. Muttering a curse under my breath, I stood and went back into the small living room. Emmie Jameson was standing by the door with her clipboard in one hand and Jesse Thornton standing behind her like a bald, warrior angel.