Rock Redemption (Rock Revenge Trilogy 3)
“Truth needs no approval. She’s a sweet one, my Zoe, but she has her prickly side too. Withstand one, embrace it even, to deserve the other. Darkness for sunshine. They go hand in hand always.” Laverne gave me an encouraging smile as she closed the last few steps to the barn. We went around the side and found the door wide open.
Music blasted out of the space. A hip-hop beat mixed with a tangle of voices. I sucked in a breath as Zoe’s voice matched theirs.
My girl could rap. Sort of.
With a smile and a twinkle of her pretty blue eyes, Laverne patted my arm one last time and left us alone.
I stood outside and watched Zoe streak paint onto the canvas she was working on. Even as she rapped along with the song, her concentration was evident. Her head was bent close as she added in details, her butt somehow wiggling independently. And the wiggle was obvious, seeing as she had on overalls with the shortest shorts I’d ever seen and a nude T-shirt that was the color of skin.
My breath caught before a quick rub of my fist at my breastbone got it going again. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
To look and not touch.
I stepped out of the sunlight into the slightly darker barn. Sweat rolled down my temples as I slid off her sunglasses and pocketed them. The back of my T-shirt was clinging to my spine but I didn’t remove it.
Didn’t move period as I absorbed her essence as if it was oxygen.
She turned, still singing, and her paintbrush fell from her hands.
I didn’t know what she felt as our eyes locked. But a tumble of emotions washed over me, pleasure and pain both, setting my heartbeat to a gallop.
She stalked to the speaker and wrenched it off. Then she propped her hands on her hips and lowered her head. One strap of her overalls fell down, nearly exposing the side of her breast in that clingy flesh-colored material.
My mouth went dry even as my gut twisted. “Zoe.”
“You came.” She turned toward me, and her eyes were like a fire blazing in a barrel, twin gold flames. “Walked right into the lion’s den.”
“I’d walk into hell itself for you.”
“How did you find me back here?” She shook her head, letting out a laugh. “Which Judas painted you a map? Let me guess. My aunt Laverne?”
I didn’t want to give her confirmation. Instead, I moved closer to her canvas, needing to get the scope. As I walked, the image came into brutal focus.
She’d been painting me.
“Christ, Magic. You’re angry I’m here yet you’ve made your own likeness of me?”
“I didn’t say I was angry.” She spun the canvas around until an innocuous blank one faced out. “And musicians are a dime a dozen. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“So, that wasn’t me? Those rings on his hands, the way he gripped the microphone—”
Seeing myself as she saw me was startling. Humbling. My head had been down, the spotlight above me giving me a halo effect I so didn’t merit. I’d clung to the microphone, silver rings winking. A flicker of hope in endless dark.
What she was to me. Still. Always. Even now that there was a hint of dawn on the horizon, she was still my north star.
And she said nothing. Nothing at all.
“I came here to tell you I made a mistake.”
Her snort of laughter didn’t reassure me. “Which one?”
“Innumerable ones, but in particular, my biggest was not fighting for us. You were right. I put too much on you. I can’t live for you. But I can live with you. These past weeks, I’ve made changes.” As if it was all the proof she could need to see I was trying, I held out my arm. The puckered flesh on my inner forearm was back to merely a scar. I hadn’t touched a cigarette since before we’d broken up. And even in the depths of my despair, I hadn’t touched a flame to my skin. “If you’ll have me.”
Her gaze dropped to my arm before sliding back to my face. “I’m glad to see that. I truly am.”
I waited for the but.
After a moment, she swore and whirled around, shoving her hands into her hair and ripping apart her braid. “I saw you.” Her voice was like a whip. “Dancing at some bar as if you were having the time of your life.”