Dead Rockstar (The Dead Rockstar Trilogy Book 1)

Chapter 13

Drip, drip, drip. My eyes opened, but all I could see was pitch black dark. Wherever I was, it was very quiet, except for that incessant dripping. It sounded like a faucet, but I couldn”t be sure. I tried to move, gingerly – I was afraid that something might be broken. I didn”t know what had happened to me, I had no memory of it. But my head ached something fierce, and it felt tight up top, like a wound that had opened and scabbed over. If I tried to make an expression, it pulled and hurt. There was something wet on the side of my face; was it blood?

I tried to roll myself up. At least I could move again, but I was afraid to test out my voice in case someone heard me. I managed to sit up, and my head began to pound. Okay, so I”d lie back down. The floor beneath me was cold; I was pretty sure it was tile. I felt around in the dark with my hands and felt a cabinet, a threadbare rug, and finally a large chunk of porcelain - a toilet. So I was locked in a bathroom. But where?

I focused myself, trying to pay attention to my surroundings, positioning my head in a way where I might be able to hear something. At first, there was nothing but the drip drip drip of the faucet and the slow rumble of the pipes under the floor. But as my eyes began to adjust to the dark, I thought I could make out the smallest crack of light. I inched my way slowly toward it, which wasn”t easy lying down, and tried to crane my head toward it. Silence.

But then, I heard a very muffled sound that seemed to be a man”s voice. I listened for several frustrating minutes but couldn”t make out a word that was being said, nor whose voice it was. I hoped to god it was Phillip and that he would find me any minute. What had happened to him? The last I”d seen he was sitting in our dead truck, his hand on the keys, immobile. Then someone had bashed my head in, and I”d seen no more. I knew Phillip, and I knew he’d have moved mountains to rescue me if he’d been able to. The fact that I was wherever I was meant that maybe – probably – Phillip was not okay.

I tried not to think about that possibility. I swallowed the bowling ball in my throat and pressed my face up against the door, struggling to listen, to hear anything that might give me a clue.

Another muffled voice. This time it was closer, and it sounded angry. I craned my neck to the crack in the door, ignoring the pounding pain in my head.

“Shut the fuck up. Like hell I”m listening to you, after the way you fucked that up.”

“I didn”t fuck it up. She”s here, isn”t she? And that big fucking lumberjack of a motherfucker is right where you want him.”

“I didn”t tell you to hit her. In fact, you fucking numb nuts, I specifically told you not to hit her. She was bound, she couldn”t have fought you. Your orders were to do no harm.”

“Aw, how sweet, Lee”s got a crush.” The voice was taunting. “Hate to tell you bro, but you”re not getting in there. That bitch fucking hates you.”

“Don”t call her a bitch.”

“Why do you care? She”s with him, isn”t she? She summoned him. Do you really think she”s-”

“You know, Shank, I”ve had just about enough of your mouth. Guthrie might have let you have free rein over his affairs, but I”m not Guthrie. And if you don”t fucking like the way I give orders you don”t have to work for me. Got it?”

“Work for you? I think you might be overstating your position.”

The voices faded away and I heard a stifled slam; they”d gone to another room or outside. I felt cold with horror. Lee and the creepy, ominous Shank, who I remembered standing behind Lee, like a hovering, dark storm cloud, in my yard. So they”d kidnapped me, then, and brought me somewhere. And what did they mean about Phillip? “Where they wanted him.” Where was that? Was he safe? What were they going to do to him, and how on earth, knowing his strength, had they managed to subdue him?

It was silent for a long while as I lay there trying to get my bearings. My head hurt so bad I could hardly think. Shank had dealt me a righteous blow. I made a vow to get my revenge on him, one way or the other. Bastard.

The drip drip drip was driving me crazy. I gingerly tried to sit up again, and the pain was still there, but not quite as bad. I grabbed onto the cabinet and pulled myself up, little by little, until I was in a crouching position, and felt around for the sink. Once I found it, I tightened each knob as hard as I could. Now that I”m standing, I thought nervously, I could try opening the door. Just a little bit.

It was risky, but I had to. I felt around for the door and finally grabbed the handle, turning it gently. I half expected it to be locked from the outside, but it wasn”t - the knob turned easily. I opened the door just a crack, praying it wouldn”t squeak. It was dark outside, and the only light was coming from what I figured was a muted TV in another room, emitting an occasional flash in the hall. I peered out, trying to get a feel for where I was. It was definitely a house, and a nice one from the look of the ornate, darkened hallway. In the shadows, I thought it looked like there was a rug on the floor. I opened the door a little wider. At one end of the hall there was a series of doors, all closed. The other end opened into a large room, likely a living room, where the TV was. I could only make out a third of the room. The rest of it was hidden behind the wall, so I didn”t know if there was anyone in there or not, making it much too risky to try and leave.

But what else could I do? I certainly wasn”t going to lie in the bathroom with my head bashed in, waiting for Lee and Shank to come back. What if it was Shank by himself? I got the impression if he was willing to smack me over the head, he”d be willing to hurt me in other ways. There was no love lost there. No, I wasn”t going to wait around to see what else they had in store. Besides, I had to find Phillip. He might need me.

So which way? To the left, with the TV, or the right, with the doors? I took my chances and turned left, stumbling down the hall, trying my best to be quiet. The floor was creaky, and I held my breath the entire way. When I reached the room, I stepped slowly, on tiptoe, and let my head just peer around the wall, only one eye visible.

There was nobody in the room, but there were two open beers on the coffee table, both dripping with condensation. Shank and Lee were probably just having a smoke break or outside finishing their argument. They”d be back soon. I needed to split, and now.

I could suddenly hear voices on the other side of the door by the TV, and I froze. They were coming back in. I bounded back down the hall as fast as I could without making noise and into one of the rooms at the end. I heard them come through the door, still throwing obscenities at each other, as I pulled the door shut behind me. I prayed they wouldn”t go directly to the bathroom to check on me.

“So what do we do now?” Shank asked. “Do you even have a plan?”

“I have a plan, but I”m not going to tell you the fuck about it.” Lee was grumpy.

“She”s bound to wake up soon. Might want to figure it out. She”s only good for another hour at best.”

“It doesn”t concern you either way.”

“I”m just sayin”, you”re crazy if you think she”s gonna do your bidding after all you”ve-”

“Yeah, I KNOW, and no thanks to you, since you made it a thousand times worse. She was bound, dude. It’s bad enough that you hit her, then you had to go and give her the drugs too-”

Drugs? What drugs? That would explain the throbbing behind my eyes.

I could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Just one set, from the sound of it. I retreated further into the dark room. I couldn”t see anything, but it had the open feel of a bedroom. I fled backward, stumbling and almost falling over a bed. I fell to my knees and tried to crouch underneath, but there was no room. Stumbling, insane with fear, I found a door handle and yanked it open. A closet. I retreated inside, closing the door behind me, and crouched in the corner behind what felt like a coat.

I heard a door open and shut. Then a stream of curses. It was Lee.

The footsteps were back in the hallway, harder this time. “Where is she?”

“What? Who?”

Now there were two sets of feet in the hall. I began to shake.

“Stormy, you fucking idiot. She”s gone!” He sounded furious. “Did you lock the door when you left last time?”

“I did, I told you I did!” If I hadn”t been so terrified, I would have smiled. He definitely had not locked the door.

“So she just came to after being drugged and hit over the head, picked the lock and went...where?”

“She”s here somewhere. She couldn”t’ve gone far. We been here the whole time.”

I clenched my teeth in terror. If either of them had to find me, I”d rather it be Lee. He was scary, but Shank was violent. At least I knew Lee wouldn”t hurt me physically – though maybe he would now, considering how angry he sounded.

I heard another door slam.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I patted my pockets to see if my cell phone was still there. I couldn”t text Phillip”s burner phone in case someone intercepted it, but I could try to text Sloan. Maybe even dial 911 if I hurried. The phone wasn”t there. They”d taken it. I started to silently cry.

The footsteps were still sounding all over the house, along with the occasional slamming door and expletive. It sounded like they were methodically searching every room. Whether it would be Lee or Shank, I didn”t know, but one of them would find me any minute. I tried to stop shaking and couldn”t. There was no way to escape.

Silence fell. I didn”t hear the footsteps anymore or any slamming doors. Were they searching outside? I retreated further into the corner, hoping the coat covered me. It seemed like hours passed, but it was probably only minutes. The silence was so loud, the walls of the closet seemed to be closing in, and I began to panic. Oh crap, what if I started hyperventilating? Silence and more silence. I sat like a statue, the only sign of life the trembling in my limbs. Time seemed to suspend itself as I waited, afraid to breathe.

Without warning, the closet door was wrenched open and I shrank back in fear, pulling the coat down from the hanger and exposing myself to the figure standing in the doorway. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, pressed a button, and held it up to let the light expose me. It was my phone; I recognized the familiar turquoise Bloomer Demons case and began to laugh despite myself, the ridiculousness of the situation I was in overriding my terror. I was in shock, I was out of my mind. I cowered, obliterated by the light in front of him, unable to tell who it was, the only thing visible his large, hulking shoulders and what looked like dark hair. I threw an arm up over my eyes and waited for the inevitable violence, biting my lip to try and stop the mad laughter that wouldn’t stop coming.

After a moment, I heard a voice, quiet in the darkness. “Stormy, come on out. It”s me.” Lee. Startled, I blinked in front of me, realizing that what I thought had been Shank”s dark hair was a black beanie, pulled down low over Lee”s light-blonde head. His expression was anxious.

I blinked again, unsure. My head was still pounding; I couldn”t think straight.

He reached into the closet and pulled me out by my jacket, bracing me as I tried to stand. My legs were shaky. “You fucked things up,” he said. “I was planning on letting you go just as soon as I could get Shank out of here, but then you had to try and escape. Now it”s going to be harder. You need to be quick and do exactly as I say.”

I nodded dumbly, a strange mix of sludgy drugs and pure adrenaline coursing through my veins. I thought I might lean over and yak on the carpet at any moment.

“Buck up. Now listen.” He pointed at the door. “When you go out of here, take a right and go down the hallway and right out the front door. If you stay to the edge of the yard and run straight down the driveway till you get to the wooded area then head straight for the trees, you might have a chance of getting away while Shank’s around back. You”re only about a mile away from the road. If you hurry, you might make it. From there you”re on your own. I”ll try to detain him, but he knows he can”t trust me.” He shook me a little. “Got it? Can you remember?”

I cleared my throat and glared at him. “Down the hallway, out the front door, head for the trees. Even full of drugs and with a head wound, I”m not a fucking idiot.”

“Go, then,” he said, pushing me toward the door.

I hesitated, looking at his slight frame and short stature. He really didn”t look a day over twenty, even as winded and sweaty as he was. How was he mixed up in all this and why? His every pore seemed to scream resistance. “Appearances can be deceiving,” he said, an expression of irritation briefly flashing on his freckled cheeks. “Go now and don”t look back.” As I reached the door, he called after me, “And for the love of hell, pack up your shit and go home.”

My legs felt like Jell-O but I managed to scurry down the dark hallway, past the kitchen and living room and out the front door, which thankfully was not locked. The rickety wrap-around porch creaked under my weight as I made my way down the stairs and I hoped that Shank was nowhere within earshot. The yard was an expanse of perfectly coifed grass and flowers, but not many trees to provide cover. I could see, as I rushed toward the edge of the yard, where the graveled driveway began, why Lee was worried I”d be seen. Anyone coming around the side of the house would spot me in a second. Luckily, it was very dark, with a milky sheen of light cloud cover that didn”t fully cover the bright stars, like a puff of smoke. The crescent moon overhead gave off just enough light to cast shadows around the yard – just enough light to see by, if you squinted. I needed to hurry. I crouched down low as I reached the driveway, carefully staying off to the side as instructed, as much to avoid the sound of my feet on the gravel as to avoid being spotted. As I ran, my foot went into a mudhole and my ankle rolled. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to not cry out in pain. Pulling myself back up, I hobbled down the driveway, forcing myself not to look back. If Shank was behind me, it wouldn”t matter anyway. I picked up my pace as I saw the little grove of trees that gave way to a larger forest of pines up ahead on my right.

As I reached the end of the driveway a thick pillow of cloud drifted over the moon, blocking what little light there was. I kept running blindly. I was almost at the end of the driveway and into the trees when a figure came out of the woods and crashed into me, hard. I was knocked down to the gravel.

I fought immediately, bringing up my arms and driving them into the hard chest. “Let me go! I”ll fucking kill you!” I screamed, my eyes shut tight with fear. I brought my hands up, my fingers forming into claws, ready to tear at skin, draw blood, inflict pain. I would fight to the death if I had to.

“Stormy. Stormy, stop. It”s me.” The voice was breathless, but unmistakable. Phillip.

I opened my eyes, still struggling against him. He seemed to realize he was holding me down and let me up instantly, helping me to my feet. I was out of breath and panting. For a moment he just looked at me, then he grabbed my arm and propelled me forward. “Let”s go.”

He ran fast, so fast I almost couldn”t keep up with him. It was no surprise that he”d be faster since he was also stronger. I held tightly to his arm, forcing my legs forward, ignoring the burn in my muscles and the rapidly growing cramp in my side. I had no idea where we were going. I hoped he did.

He pulled me through the woods, past tall, ancient pines and redwoods, our feet crunching over the leaves. A frightened deer fled from us and a raccoon stood and stared as we made our way past. I could smell smoke on the breeze. There was no light other than the pale glare of the full moon, the clouds drifting across it and casting a weird, darkened glow over the ground. I was breathing hard, having a difficult time getting air. Tree branches whipped into my face, stinging and sharp. “Phillip,” I wheezed after a few more minutes of trying to keep pace with him. “You”re going too fast. I have to stop for a second to catch my breath.”

“We have to get you to safety.” His voice was urgent.

“I know, but I”m going to have a heart attack. Not all of us are part werewolf.”

We stopped. I leaned against a tree, still wheezing. He watched me silently, his face full of emotions I couldn”t identify. He looked all around us, eyes darting, alert for any threat. Finding none, he finally asked me softly, “Are you alright?”

“Kind of.” I didn”t know how to answer him. “You?”

He laughed. “I”m fine. Now that I”ve found you, anyway. I was worried sick.”

“I’ve got a head wound,” I said and touched a hand to it. “I think it might be bleeding.”

“You were right,” he said, breathing hard. “They were never after me. They”ve always been after you.”

“I know.” Hot tears stung my eyes. “I told you.”

“I”ve got to get you somewhere safe,” he said, biting at his lip.

“I don”t think I can run like that anymore,” I said weakly. “I”m not just out of shape, they drugged me, too.”

“I never thought for a minute you were out of shape,” he said with a smile. “Come here.”

He extended his arms to me and I rushed into them. He was warm and solid and strong, drenched with sweat. The next thing I knew he had picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder. I felt like I was flying as he ran, pine needles whipping past as he brushed by tree limbs, the moon looking down on us, as cold and silent and ambivalent as a ghost.

“Phillip, I”m too heavy,” I protested weakly, but he just laughed. The deep, velvety sound echoed through the quiet woods like the crackle of embers in a warm autumn fire. “I got you, girl,” he said with a growl, darting through the trees. “Not even a silver bullet can bring me down.”

Some time later,I came to, lying on the rickety bed in our motel room and Phillip was leaning over me, his face lined with worry. When I opened my eyes, his face lit up into a bright smile.

“What happened?”

“You passed out,” he said. “I think there were still drugs in your system.”

“I have no idea what they gave me.”

“I wish I could get you to a hospital, have you checked out.” He reached out and tucked a piece of my hair behind an ear. “Maybe we should go.”

“No,” I croaked. “I’m fine. Are you?”

Before I’d passed out, Phillip had filled me in on what happened to him while I was with Lee. He’d described the experience the same way as I’d felt it – he’d put the key in the ignition and groaned when the car hadn’t turned over. He’d yelled out to me that the battery was dead, then fiddled with the keys, cussing all the while, hoping that it might still start up. But as he held the keys in his hand, he’d been filled with an eerie sense of foreboding, as though the daylight had suddenly shrunk down into a dark void, the air crackling with electricity. He’d been struck by a piercing terror, and opened his mouth to warn me, to tell me to get in the truck. But he couldn’t speak, couldn’t get words to come. He couldn’t move; it was like he was bound by an invisible cord. Just as I had been.

He’d been powerless to stop it as he’d heard the commotion outside – someone had come up and hit me. He’d heard the thwack and my bellow of pain, and had been unable to move, tears streaming down his immovable face as he’d heard me being carried off, the start of an engine, the squealing of tires.

For ten minutes he’d sat there, still as a statue, crying with frustration and fury. Then he’d noticed Lydia’s front door open again, her old, wispy head peeking out. He could feel the power of her dark eyes peering at him from the porch, and as he stared back at her, he felt the pins and needles come back into his limbs. He could move again.

Just as soon as he’d been able to get life into his limbs, to think straight, he’d exited the truck and bounded up the stairs, demanding Lydia tell him what happened. Her old face had been full of emotions – fury, fear, and sadness – but she’d refused to give him any information.

“It’s for the best, Sidhe,” she’d said sadly, hanging onto the door frame as though she’d collapse without its support. “Neither of you heeded the warnings. It’s best you’re apart, anyhow. Too much power concentrated in one place can be dangerous. And the two of you…you’re just like Guthrie and I, you are. When you’re together, the passion is undeniable. But then you look up and realize the world has collapsed around you.”

He’d begged and begged, but she’d refused to tell him anything. Had just stared at him with sad eyes. All her mysterious power from before had seemingly dried up and shriveled away; now she looked impossibly old and very tired. Resigned, Phillip had let her retreat inside to her dusty haven and had gone back to the truck, full of terror for me.

To his surprise, the truck had started back up without a hitch. So he’d backed out of the rocky driveway, and from there he just drove. Drove and drove around Boston, winding through little neighborhoods, meandering down city streets, staring into storefronts, even into his old neighborhood, where he saw Jason Langley smoking a cigarette in his old front yard. For hours he drove, but he found no sign of me. No sign at all.

“So how did you find me in the end, then?” I had asked.

“I stopped looking,” he’d said simply.

“How…?”

“I parked my truck on the side of a random street and closed my eyes and just sat there,” he said, stroking the side of my face with a calloused finger. “…and eventually, I just felt you. I guess you woke up, and I felt it. I followed the feeling. And there you were.” I’d never forget his face, the way his eyes had lit up with tenderness, with…love.

“Everything just keeps...” I trailed off, my head muddy, “...getting weirder.” That’s when I had passed out. The weirdness of the world I was now living in was just too damn weird to stay conscious any longer.

Now,Phillip’s face was less elated, and more furious. “Stop being so stubborn, Stormy,” he thundered. “You might have a concussion.”

“I just need rest.”

“The best place to rest is in a hospital. With doctors nearby.”

“But I just need a little time,” I argued. “To get my story together. To get our story together,” I argued. “If you take me there, they will call the police, don’t you get that?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I don”t give a fuck about the story at this point.”

“Please, Phillip,” I begged. “I can’t risk-”

“Fine,” he conceded, looking irritated. “One hour. We”ll figure out our story, then we”re going. Like it or not, even if I have to drag you.” He didn”t look pleased. “Now. What can I get you? You must be thirsty.”

“I am.” I cleared my throat as I lay back on the pillows. “I”d love some water, and a coffee, too. Maybe it would pep me up. They have some in the lobby, don”t they?”

“Yeah, but it tastes like shit.”

“It”ll be fine.” I really just wanted the caffeine. “And a pack of crackers or something if they have it. Maybe the nausea will go away if I eat something.”

He frowned. “I”m reluctant to leave you.”

“I”ll be okay,” I said. “The door is locked and I”m not going to let anybody in.”

He nodded. “I’ll be back in two minutes. Don”t open the door for anybody. I have my key. And don”t go to sleep again.”

“I won”t.”

As he left, I watched his retreating back, the sag of his shoulders. He was unhappy with me. I knew I was being infuriating, but I didn”t see any way around it. A trip to the hospital would mean cops, and cops ask questions. They might assume from my head wound that Phillip had hurt me. Even if they didn’t, one of them might recognize him.

One thing I knew for sure – just as soon as Phillip was satisfied that I was alright, we’d be heading back to Jekyll. I’d drag him if I had to. Lee and Lydia were right. I was in danger here. I wasn’t so sure I’d be as lucky next time.

I was determined not to doze off, to be a good little patient. I rummaged through the bag beside the bed and pulled out my reading glasses – Phillip had finally seen them on me, and had made several quips about how I looked like a sexy therapist who drank chardonnay on her lunch break and whose couch was covered in yappy dog fur - and a magazine that I”d bought at a gas station. It was the most recent Rolling Stone. Phillip had already looked through it, marveling and laughing at all the new rock bands he”d never heard of and the clothes they wore. He was definitely from another time. I flipped through it idly, not really reading, just looking at the pictures. They were a little blurry. That whack to the head had been pretty brutal. I hoped the coffee would help steady me.

I wished I had my phone, but it was in Lee’s possession and I’d probably never see it again. I didn’t like the idea of him looking through my contacts, my private messages. I was filled with the sudden urge to check in with everyone, even the people I usually tried to keep at arm’s length. I wanted to text Sloan, my boss, even my parents. I thought back to the Thanksgiving invitation my dad had extended to me a few days prior and hung my head in shame. I’d never even responded. How long would I continue to punish them, to push them all away?

I heard Phillip swiping his key outside, and the door whooshed open a crack. “That was fast,” I said, putting down the magazine with a bright smile. He was serious when he”d said two minutes.

My blood ran cold when I saw who was entering the hotel room. It wasn”t Phillip. It was Shank.