Текст книги "Rock the Beat"

Автор книги: Michelle A. Valentine

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Jackson yanks his leg back and kicks Max square in the stomach before he bends down and says, “I’ll give you something to really cry about to the cops, you fucking homo.”

I gasp as Trip pushes forward and leaps over the banister, landing on Jackson’s back. A cloud of dust engulfs them and they immediately begin tearing into each other. It’s hard to tell where Trip ends and Jackson begins. They roll around on the ground, both trying to gain the upper hand. Trip’s size finally overpowers Jackson and he takes control.

Trip slams his fist into Jackson’s face, and Jackson’s head rocks back. “Why don’t you pick on someone who isn’t afraid to fight back?” Trip punches him again. “You fucking coward.”

Trip’s hands wrap around Jackson’s throat as blind rage takes hold of him. I grab Dad’s arm.

Oh God, please don’t let Trip kill him. Jackson isn’t worth Trip going back to jail for.

Jackson reaches up and shoves the heel of his hand into Trip’s face. Jackson is having trouble getting air because of Trip’s hold because his face turns beet red.

Max groans and rolls onto his back on the ground, just as sirens blare in the distance.

My gaze whips to Dad and panic sets in as I think about Trips past brushes with the law. I don’t want him to get into any trouble over Jackson. “You called the cops?”

He nods. “I had to, honey. There’s no way I can get involved physically. Besides, after what Jackson did to Max, the cops need to witness his handiwork. That boy needs to serve a little time.”

The first thought that enters my mind is Trip’s past. He’s been in trouble for this sort of thing before. If the police show up and see this, his past may cause him major problems.

I rush off the porch and my dad yells for me to stop, but I don’t listen. My own safety isn’t important right now. I reach Trip just as I hear a car coming down the long gravel driveway. He’s so focused on hurting Jackson that he’s oblivious to everything else going on around him.

I grab his arm and pull. “Trip, let him go. The cops are coming. They can’t see you like this.”

It takes a couple more hard tugs before he realizes I’m right there with him. “Holly, get back. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I shake my head furiously. “No. Not until you back away from him. He’s not worth it, Trip. Come on. Please,” I beg.

Trip’s gaze shoots from me to Jackson and then back to me before he releases his fingers. Jackson gasps for air and begins to cough, while Trip stares down at his hands. “What the hell am I doing?” It’s almost as if he’s whispering to himself more than me.

I help him up to his feet just as a police cruiser skids to a stop in the gravel in front of us. A young male officer jumps from the car and leaves his door wide open as he slaps his hat on his head and approaches Trip and I, his hand near the gun holstered on his side. The distinct sound of hard-rock music blasts from the car, like the guy was pumping himself up on the ride out here.

The stocky cop is about half a foot shorter than Trip’s six-foot height, but appears to be about the same age. The officer’s brown eyes roam around, accessing the situation before his sights turn back to Trip and I. I stand behind Trip, clinging to his arm, while the cop determines if the tattooed man standing before him is an immediate threat.

The cop clears his throat. “I’m Officer King. What’s going on out here?”

I open my mouth to explain, but Trip beats me to the punch. “This guy”—he points down at Jackson—“came out here uninvited and started beating on our friend over there for no reason.”

Officer King nods. “I see, and I suppose you stopped it?”

“Yes. I couldn’t stand by and let him get away with hurting my friend. Max has a restraining order against him. It should be on file.”

Jackson pushes himself up at the same time Max does. I race over to Max and help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Max nods. “I think so. It’s not as bad as last time. Thank God for Trip, huh?”

I hug Max. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Maybe now the law will actually do something about Jackson.”

“On your feet,” the officer commands while glaring down at Jackson. “I need to see some identification from all of you.” The guys all fish their wallets from their back pockets and hands Officer King their drivers licenses. “You all stay put while I run these through.”

Max and I walk over and stand next to Trip, while Jackson keeps a safe distance, leaning against his car.

Trips clamps Max’s shoulder. “You all right, buddy?”

Max winces and Trip offers an apologetic frown. “I’m okay. Thank you for what you did. I owe you one.”

“Any friend of Holly’s, is a friend of mine.” He slings his arm over my shoulders and pulls me into him.

Max grins at me. “Your girl, huh? I always knew you had a thing for him. I should start a dating service with my mad relationship-predicting skills.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re lucky you’re wounded, because that would’ve earned you a smack.”

Max laughs and then winces as he grabs his ribs. “You know you love me.”

Trip and I both chuckle. It’s good to see Max hasn’t lost his playful spirit, and my heart aches knowing he’s been going through hell for so long and I didn’t stop it.

A moment later, the officer returns from his vehicle with a mean scowl on his face. He hands Max back his license first and then turns to Jackson, “I’m going to need you to turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

My mouth drops open at the same time Max says, “Holy shit.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I say as I watch the cop cuff Jackson’s hands behind his back.

“You can’t do this, you know,” Jackson says over his shoulder to Office King, who is busy reading him the Miranda rights. “Do you know who I am? You won’t be able to hold me long. I have money and lawyers.”

Officer King tightens the cuffs and Jackson winces. “I know exactly who you are. Ask me if I give two shits that you’re some dirt bike hot shot. We have pictures on file of what you did to Max over there. We’ve been looking for you. Seems you’ve been hiding from us over the last week. The guys down at the station will be happy to finally meet you, especially your new cellmates. They love meeting celebrities who hate homosexuals.”

“No. You can’t do this. Please,” Jackson begs as the cop leads him to the back of the cruiser and shoves him inside. I chuckle when the door slams in his face.

The cop straightens his clothes and readjusts the hat on his head before heading in our direction. “We’re going to take him in for violating the restraining order. Would either of you two gentlemen like to press charges against Mr. Cruze?” Both Max and Trip both shake their heads at the same time and Officer King sighs. “I figured you’d say that. Let me give you a word of advice. Even though he probably came here to start trouble with the two of you, he’s going to claim he didn’t know the two of you would be here and that you attacked him.”

“But officer that’s not what happened,” I chime in.

He looks at me. “I know that, but it’ll basically be their word against his. There’s nothing in the restraining order barring him from coming to Mountain Time specifically, and he is a well-known motocross figure, a judge is likely to side with him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say.

“I agree, but Jackson may want to go after Trip as well for financial gain. He probably knows you’re worth millions. You should really keep that in mind Mr. Douglas and press charges first.” Office Kings hands Trip back his license.

Trip? Millions? What? I’m so confused. People who manage bands don’t make that much, do they? And how would this cop know how much money he makes?

I stare up at Trip trying to figure out exactly what he’s hiding from me. Is he not who he says he is? Do I really even know him at all? I know he feels me looking at him, be he refuses to make eye contact with me. He swallows hard and works the muscle under his jaw. He knows I just caught on that he’s hiding something from me.

Trip stuffs his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I think I will press charges,” Max chimes in next to me, pulling me out of thought. “I don’t want to get in trouble for something he started.”

Trip rubs his forehead. “Maybe you’re right, Max, we should go file.”

Officer King nods. “I’ll meet you down at the station.”

Max steps away from me and towards his car. “You guys want to ride with me?”

“We’ll follow you,” Trip says, not giving me a chance to answer.

Max nods and heads for his car to follow the police cruiser into town. Trip shoves his hands into his pockets and heads off to his car without another word. It’s not like him to ignore me. Even when we didn’t exactly get along he never did that, and he’s being awfully quiet too.

My stomach sinks. Am I just a fling to him? Is that why he’s been keeping secrets from me? I wrap my arms around myself and follow Trip to the car. Finding out the truth about the man I’ve been slowly giving my heart to scares me. This could change everything.

Chapter 14

One More Lie

Holly

The Mustang hums as Trip drives us down the road. He still hasn’t said a word to me, and I’m not quite sure what I should say. I replay over and over in my mind the way the conversation will probably go the moment I confront him. He’ll either say that the cop doesn’t know what he’s talking about, even though he seemed to have a lot of information about Trip. Trip didn’t bother to correct him either, which makes me lean toward the cop telling the truth.

The other thing Trip might say is that it’s the truth and that everything he’s ever told me is a complete lie and he has no intention of ever getting really serious with me—that he wanted to keep me in the dark while he slept with me.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Either way I need to know. “Are you going to talk to me?”

Trip flexes his fingers around the steering wheel. “About what?”

“You know exactly what. Are you going to tell me what that cop meant and how he knows so much about you?”

He blows a rush of air through his nose. “Can we talk about this after we get the Jackson situation handled? Everyone is already on edge and I don’t want to add to it. After that, I promise I’ll explain everything to you.”

I stare at him for a long moment, deciding if I can wait that long to know. Not knowing what his secret is makes my mind conjure up a million different things.

He glances over. “Please?”

I sigh. It’s not ideal because I want to know now, but if I don’t like what I hear, I don’t see how I can make it through all the paperwork down at the police station. “Okay. Fine. But as soon as we’re done, we’re talking about this.”

He reaches over and takes my hand, raising it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “We will. It’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I’ll be glad when everything is out in the open.”

Trip pulls into the parking lot of the redbrick building and cuts the engine. The cop we followed pulls around the back, probably to unload his prisoner. I hop out of the car and glance around until I spot Max heading towards me. The remnants of the last attack from Jackson still cover his face. The bruises have turned from black to yellow, and have nearly disappeared, but he’s got a newly busted lip thanks to Jackson. I’m ashamed all this happened to him, but one good thing came out of it. Max’s parents finally found out that he’s gay. His deepest secret that he never wanted them to know is finally out in the open and the reaction Max feared never came. Both of his parents fully accepted the fact that their son was gay, and said they had suspected so for a long time. Max has been the happiest I’ve ever seen him. That is, until just a little while ago when he was reminded that not all people are so open-minded.

Trip rushes over and wraps his arm around my shoulders and says to Max, “Let’s go end this.”

Fluorescent lights illuminate the light-green brick walls inside the building. The three of us make our way to the front desk—the same one we were at when Max last filed a report.

The same heavy-set cop with the mustache greets us at the front desk. “You three back again?”

“Yes, sir. We’re here to press charges against the guy that we got the restraining order for last week,” Trip informs him.

The officer types a few words into his computer. “Ah, yes. Mr. Cruze. I see they just brought him in. Go ahead and tell me what happened.”

I listen as both Max and Trip recount what took place leading up to the fight. I’m so proud of Max as I listen to him bravely tell the officer everything Jackson said to him. I’m glad he’s finally standing up for himself.

Trip on the other hand seems rather angry and annoyed talking about Jackson. I can tell pushing the issue of the fight isn’t something he really wants, but feels obligated to do.

“Let me get all this filed. Go ahead and have a seat.” He nods toward the row of plastic chairs against the wall.

“Wonder how long this is going to take,” Max says with mild annoyance in his voice. “I want to get this over with.”

Just as I attempt to comfort Max, I hear my name being called from across the room. “Holly. Hey, Holly!”

I whip my head towards the frantic voice and my eyes widen as I watch an officer walk Grace up to a desk parallel to the reception desk. Her dirty-blonde hair is matted into clumps and the dingy-white tank-top she’s wearing falls off her left shoulder. She looks like hell, and God knows she probably hasn’t eaten or showered in days. The urge to not acknowledge my mother’s existence washes through me. It hurts to see her. It’s a reminder that she loves drugs more than me.

Whatever she did to land herself in here is deserved. Besides, she should be used to this by now. I can’t even begin to count the number of collect phone calls Dad receives from this place.

I turn to walk away without saying a word, pulling Trip along with me, but what she says stops me in my tracks. “Holly, please! Don’t let me die in here. They’re going to lock me up for a while this time. I need bail money. Call Bill. He’ll get me out.”

I spin on my heel. “Detoxing won’t kill you, Grace. It’ll do you some good to be in here for a while and get clean. Don’t call the house this time. Dad doesn’t need to get involved in your crap.”

Grace fidgets under my stare, and her cheeks sink in even more when she frowns while she rocks back and forth on her heels. “Please, Holly. I’m dying. I have HIV, and I don’t have much time. Don’t let me rot in this jail like an animal. I’m still your mother. Don’t you care if I die?”

My heart leaps into my throat and Trip’s arm tightens around my waist. Did I just hear her right?

“No.” I shake my head. “You’re lying. This is another trick to make me feel sorry for you. This is the same shit you pull on my dad, and I won’t let you do this to me. You’re already dead to me, Grace. Do you hear me? Dead.”

She wipes her nose over and over while she stares dead into my eyes. “I deserve that. I’m a horrible person and a shitty mother, but you look like you turned out all right. Me staying away was the best thing. Bill knew that, which is why he still helps me. I swear to you that I’m telling you the truth. Bill knows all about it and refuses to let me die alone in a gutter some place like I deserve, but he won’t let me come back home either.” Grace sighs and wipes a couple tears out of her eyes. “He’s forgiven me for making him sick. I hope one day you will too. I’m begging you to call him. He’ll come get me.”

My entire body tenses as her words sink in. This isn’t real. Dad wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t be this sick and not tell me about it. He has the flu or something—that’s what he said. I’m not believing a word that comes out of her mouth unless I hear them straight from Dad.

Tears flow down my face and I drop my head, wishing they would just lock Grace up already. I don’t want to stand here and listen to any more of her lies.

It’s as if my prayers have been answered. I hear a male voice order, “Time to go, Pearson.”

“Holly! Please let him know! I’m begging you!” Those are the last words I hear as my mother is carted off to a cell, somewhere in the building.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to her, and I’ll probably go to hell for saying this, but I don’t really care either. As long as she and her lies stay out of my life, things will be fine.

“You okay?” Trip whispers in my ear while he tugs me against his chest.

I sniff and attempt to wipe the moisture from my eyes. “Yeah. I hate her. I can’t believe she would tell a lie like that. She’s insane. I’m just ready to get out of here.”

“Excuse me, officer? Can we go now or are we waiting on something?” Trip questions the cop.

The cop picks up the phone. “King? Yeah. The people involved with the Cruze case are set to go. Did you still want to talk with them? Okay.” He turns his gaze to us. “Officer King will be right up.”

Trip nods and he looks at me and shrugs. “Guess we can’t leave yet.”

My shoulders slump in disappointment. The longer I sit here, the longer all the unanswered questions I have from this evening are going to eat away at my brain. Trip and my father both have a lot of explaining to do. “I hope he hurries.”

A few moments after Trip and I take a seat next to Max, Officer King comes through a door located in the back office. Next to the other officers in the room, I notice just how much younger he is.

King removes his hat and tucks it under his left arm while he holds some paper and a pen in the other. “I’m sorry to keep you. That Cruze guy is a piece of work. A demanding man, isn’t he?”

Max chuckles next to me. “He’s the biggest asshole I know.”

“I won’t say the biggest, but he’s in the running.” The cop sits down next to Trip and lays his hat on the empty chair beside him. “I know this is unprofessional, but I’m a huge fan and I wondered if I could get your autograph.”

My brow furrows and I press my lips into a tight line as I wait for Trip’s reaction. What in the hell is this guy talking about?

Trip pauses for a long moment, and then he removes his arms from my shoulders and reaches for the paper and pen. “Who do I make it out to?”

My mouth drops open and I stare at this complete stranger right next to me.

TRIP

Fuck. This is not how I wanted Holly to find out about me.

“Make it out to Ben, please,” Officer King says as I click the pen.

I scroll my autograph onto the blank piece of paper while I feel Holly’s glare burning into me. She looks over my shoulder and reads the words I wrote:

Ben—

Thanks for rocking with Black Falcon!

Best,

Trip Douglas

I hand him back the paper and pen and rake my fingers through my hair. He smiles as he reads what I wrote. “Hell yeah. I’m framing this shit.”

I throw up a metal horn and tell him, “Rock on, brother.”

He quickly stands and slaps his hat back on his head. “I’ll try to get them to hold Mr. Cruze as long as I can, but in all likelihood it won’t be that long. If you can Mr. Douglas, I would keep your distance from him. Celebrity or not, your criminal record in this case isn’t good. A judge will likely side with him since this would be your second offense in a domestic violence case.”

Damn that Jessica. Will this shit continue to haunt my ass for the rest of my life? Cheating slut caused me to have a permanent blemish with the law.

I reach out and shake Officer King’s hand. “Thanks, man. I appreciate the heads up.”

“No worries. Call me up here at the station if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

As the cop leaves us alone, I sigh, knowing it’s time to face the firing squad. I turn towards Holly. Both she and Max stare at me like I grew a third eye. “I can explain.”

“Work for Black Falcon, huh?” Holly asks with heavy sarcasm in her voice.

I swallow. “I know you’re pissed. I should’ve told you before, but I had my reasons.”

Max throws up his hands. “Wait. So you’re in the band, Black Falcon?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m the drummer.”

“Fucking rad. Holly, didn’t you know?” Max asks, surprised by my identity.

Holly’s eyes widen. “You’re Mr. Snare?”

I try to take her hand, but she pulls away from my touch. “I was going to tell you.”

Her eyes search my face. “What else don’t I know about you?”

“Nothing,” I tell her firmly. “That’s the only thing I’ve been keeping from you. I swear.”

She drops her head and closes her eyes while Max and I sit quietly either side of her. “I need to get out of here.”

“Come on. I’ll take you home,” I tell her.

“No,” she snaps. “I’m not ready to talk to you right now. Max”—Holly turns towards him—“will you take me?”

“Of course,” he answers automatically, before glancing over to me with an apologetic frown.

I open my mouth to protest, but quickly close it. I’m not ready for her to make the wrong assumptions about why I kept something so important about myself from her. I need her to know that I do care about her, despite my dumbass decision for not telling her sooner. Being rejected by her is something I don’t think I can face.

Holly stands up next to me and I reach out and grab her hand and close my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this right now, Trip.” She pulls away from my grasp and my chest tightens as I open my eyes and watch her walk away.

The thought of never holding her in my arms again leaves me feeling cold and empty inside—a shell of the man without her. I’m tired of this empty feeling lingering inside me. The times I’ve spent with her the last few weeks have been some of the best I’ve had in a long time and that means something to me—she means something to me.

Right then, sitting in that sterile police station the realization hits me. I love her. It’s not just the infatuation or great sex talking. I love her for her. I can’t let this be the end. I know we’re meant to be together. It’s time I make her see that we’re perfect for one another.

I jump up from the seat to chase after her, but I’m too late. All I see are Max’s taillights driving away.

I need to bare my soul to this girl, and pray that she forgives me for lying to her and accepts me for what I am.