Rock Revenge (Rock Revenge Trilogy 1)

They never trusted me with anything. Not even this.

“And?”

“And he knows about me now, so we must be further ahead, right?”

“Not if he’s angry and mistrustful, which of course he would be after that disaster. You know how much hinges on this starting off right. Now we could be months if not years behind—”

“Maybe you could try giving me some credit. He’s my brother.”

“Who doesn’t know you from a stranger. That’s what you are to him. Less than that, because now he probably hates you and he doesn’t even know you.” Jerry swore under his breath. “She keeps telling me you aren’t the stubborn brat I’ve always thought you were, and then you do this. You could ruin everything. And for what? To improve your chances for your little variety show?”

The derision in Jerry’s voice made me grip the phone tighter. “I’ll still be in LA by the end of next week. You can bank on it.”

“You better hope so. Or else you won’t like what happens next. Neither will she.”

“Where is she? Put her on.”

“Don’t you worry about where she is. Just do your goddamn job.”

Jerry clicked off and I threw my phone on the couch, then wished I’d shattered it against the window instead.

Fucking hell. I had to get to LA.

Simon might not like it, but we were going to be seeing a lot more of each other.

If my older brother wanted a fight, I would be ready.

Seven

Sunlight burned the backs of Margo’s eyes. She groaned, not wanting to see it just yet. She’d been having such a lovely dream. About a picnic in the park and a patchwork quilt laid on bright green grass. Simon had been feeding her fat, juicy green grapes, dangling them over her mouth for her to lean up and nibble. She’d laughed every time her teeth had pierced the delicious fruit. Simon had laughed too, and in the background, there had been more laughter. Closer to cooing. She’d turned her head, smiling already at the sound, and opened her eyes to…

Nothing.

A deserted bed.

Light filled an empty hotel room.

She slid her hand across the sheets and found them not only cool but cold. Frowning, she sat up and glanced around, looking for some clue where he might’ve gone.

No note. No obvious disarray.

No Simon.

Her husband wasn’t an early riser. That was her role. She was often up even before the sun, and usually started her day with yoga or Pilates. Not today. Judging from the amount of light in the room, she was way later than usual. She grabbed her phone and gasped at the time.

7:15.

Jeez, how unlike her. Of course, her husband had worn her out the night before, and there were now other mitigating factors too.

Biting on her thumbnail, she scrolled to her text messages just in case she’d missed something. Maybe he’d hit the hotel gym early. Really early. It didn’t even look as if the bed had been slept in on his side.

What the hell?

Nothing from Simon. She texted him, and predictably, received no response. After waiting a couple of minutes, she called and it went straight to voicemail.

Keeping her voice steady, she told him to call her. To let her know where he was, and if he needed her to come to him.

There was more she wanted to say. So much. Anger and frustration tangled inside her, tightening her throat. But “I love you” was the last thing she said.