Staged (Exodus End 3)

Steve blew out a quiet breath of relief. Roux was willing to hear him out. He prayed she believed him.

“I’m telling you, he was set up,” Max said. He gave Steve a pointed look. “I just hope he can find a way to prove it. The clock is ticking. He’d better find an open clinic before it’s too late.”

Steve slid his chair back, and he and Logan stood simultaneously.

“A clinic? He better not have given Roux any of that skank’s STIs.”

Max waved Steve off, letting him know he’d try to get Iona to understand the situation. Steve had to hurry. The clock really was ticking.

*~*~*

Hours later, Steve stood at Roux’s hotel room door, his hand raised to knock. Butch had already scored him a new cellphone and had his data transferred to it—there were so many perks to this rock star gig—but Roux hadn’t answered his calls and voicemails or replied to his texts. Hope had started to wither, but he had no plans to give up yet. He wished Zach was there to offer support, but he was halfway to Los Angeles by now. Logan had helped Steve secure the drug tests he needed, but it would be days before the results were in. He’d also discovered that a hair sample could be sent off and the drug—along with any he’d purposely taken—would be detectable for months after ingestion. The clinician had carefully recorded details of the incident in case he decided to take the case to the police. Apparently spiking a drink could lead to years of jail time, but he wasn’t sure he wanted his business made public. He felt like a fool for falling into Tamara’s trap, and though there was photographic evidence of the crime, he didn’t remember the violation clearly. It felt like it had happened to someone else. But if Roux hated him now and dumped him, he’d probably file charges against Tamara out of spite.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was close to midnight. She might be asleep. Maybe he should have called her room first. Maybe . . .

The door eased open, and he was leveled by a blue-eyed glare. Raven crossed her arms over her chest. “You have some nerve showing up here after all this time.”

“I had important issues to take care of before I could explain what happened.” And he’d been more than a little nervous. He knew he wouldn’t handle Roux’s anger or her disgust well. His heart was already thudding in his chest. This kind of confrontation should be easier for a rock star, shouldn’t it? It wasn’t.

“Explain what?” Raven’s eyes narrowed. “How getting your rocks off is more important to you than my sister’s love? Fuck you.” She tried to close the door, but Steve lifted his arm to block it. Now that he was here, there was no way he was backing down without seeing her.

“Roux,” he called into the room. “I know you’re hurt and you probably hate me, but—” Raven kicked him in the shin. “Ow!”

“Go away or I’m calling the cops,” Raven threatened.

“I don’t care.”

“Or maybe I should call Iona.”

That woman was far more frightening than cops.

“Roux, I didn’t sleep with her on purpose.”

“But you did sleep with her,” Raven said.

“You found me afterwards,” he called to Roux, hoping she could hear him. “Remember how out of it I was that night, how sick? And all I did was have some whiskey.”

“A lot of whiskey,” Raven said. “Being drunk does not excuse your behavior.”

He hadn’t wanted to announce the depth of the situation to the entire corridor, but seeing as Raven was blocking the door, he didn’t know what choice he had.

“I know that, but I wasn’t drunk. I was drugged.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Raven shoved him.

“Tamara drugged me. She slipped something into my bottle.”

Raven cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “She put rope or ketamine or GHB or something in my whiskey and then molested me when I was unconscious.”

“Are you sure?” Raven said, some of the tension going out of her.

“That’s where I’ve been for the past few hours, at the hospital getting tested so I’d have proof. But it takes a while for the results to come back, and . . . I couldn’t wait until then to tell her the truth. Roux? Please say something.”

Raven searched his eyes for a long moment and then sighed. “She isn’t here.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

“Because I think she’s an idiot for running back to you, for not wanting to believe the worst about you even though the entire world has seen proof of your cheating.”

“Running back to me? I haven’t seen her. She hasn’t answered her phone. I’ve been trying to reach her for hours.” His heart began to thud out of control. Maybe something had happened to her. He wouldn’t put it past Tamara to hurt her. Although Roux had effectively kicked her ass earlier that day, he wasn’t sure she’d even try to defend herself if she wasn’t drunk.

“Yeah, I know you’re obsessed. I have her dumb phone, and it’s been ringing and binging nonstop.” Raven shoved the phone into his chest. He took it from her hand, rubbing his thumb over the familiar puppy-picture case. “I thought I could get her to stay here if I took it away from her, but she left anyway.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Maybe you should check your hotel room, dumbass.”

“My room . . .”

Steve turned and sprinted down the corridor and to the stairs, not wanting to waste time waiting for an elevator. Security stayed out of his way as he fumbled with his keycard and threw the door open. A single lamp glowed beside the bed, and he didn’t see her at first. A huge sigh of relief escaped him when he spotted her curled up on the end of a loveseat, her eyes closed and her head resting on her arm.

She believed in him. He’d never had another person demonstrate that level of trust in him. Of course, she could be there to tell him off to his face, but she was there.

He crossed the room and squatted in front of her. He watched her sleep for a moment, knowing the peaceful expression of slumber would soon be replaced with fury or agony or any number of unpleasant emotions. He couldn’t resist touching her for long, however. He slipped a lock of hair from her smooth cheek, tucking it behind her ear. She murmured something unintelligible, and her eyes blinked open.

“Steve,” she said, sitting up straight.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

Her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying, and the thought of her suffering over this tore at his heart. He hadn’t been there to hold her and assure her that everything was going to be okay.

“How could you?” she shouted. “How could you? With her?”

“I couldn’t,” he said.

“You did!”

“I didn’t.”

“Don’t play me for a fool, Steven Aimes.”

He tried to take her hands in his, but she slapped them away.

“I’m not playing you, baby. Will you listen to what really happened?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, but she didn’t look at him as he tried to figure out where to begin.

He set her phone on her lap. “I’ve been trying to call you since I got my phone replaced. I broke my old one when I saw those pictures of Tamara online.”

“That doesn?

??t erase them from the Internet, you know,” she snapped.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could erase them?”

“And they weren’t pictures only of Tamara. That was you there with her.”

“Roux . . .” He shifted to his knees, as squatting was starting make his legs cramp, and knelt at her feet. “Those pictures were taken at Donington that night you found me naked in my puked-on bed.”

“I figured that much out, and I know you were really drunk that night, but still . . .” She blinked back tears. “Are you going to screw around on me every time you get drunk?”

“Of course not. I’m not a cheater. I’ll never screw around on you.”

“You already have.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I was a little drunk,” he admitted. “Maybe a lot drunk, but I don’t pass out cold like that after drinking. I sure don’t throw up, black out, and lose hours of time. She drugged me, Roux. With a date-rape drug. I’m sure of it. I had samples taken to try to prove it, but she all but admitted it in front of my bandmates earlier tonight.”

“She drugged you?”

Apparently Max hadn’t convinced Iona to spread the word of Steve’s innocence.

“She fucking drugged you?” Roux bellowed.

Steve leaned away from the fury radiating off the sweetest woman he’d ever known.

“I believe so.”

“And then did those, those things to you while you were unconscious?”

Steve nodded. His stomach churned with queasiness. He couldn’t remember much about Tamara’s actions, but that feeling of nausea persisted every time he thought about what she’d done.

“I should have killed that bitch when I had the chance.” Roux sprang from the sofa and began to pace. “Can you have her arrested? Deported? Hanged?”

“I only care about not losing you,” he said, shifting from the floor to sit on the sofa that was still warm with Roux’s body heat. “I don’t care about her being punished.”

“I care. She raped you.”

“She tried,” he said. “But she couldn’t get my dick hard.” That was the one thing about that night that he remembered clearly. He tried smiling, but that sick feeling returned to the pit of his belly.