Chapter 27
Two of the couples scattered early the next morning, with all four of them holding their heads. Trenton and Celia still hadn’t come out of their back bedroom. Malcolm finished making coffee, kissed Jami, and headed for the tavern, or so he said.
Skylar studied her sister through slitted eyes, but she knew it was pointless to feign sleep. Jami had always seen through her.
Her hand had begun unconsciously sifting through Damon’s hair, she realized, then pulled it away from his head. She tried to shift out from under him, feeling guilty when his eyes opened.
“Good morning.” His sleepy smile was too goddamn sweet. It figured that hungover Damon still acted like that.
“Want some coffee?” she asked.
“Nah, water for me.” He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like a little kid.
Skylar glanced at Jami over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad at me,” she stage-whispered, rewarded by the tightening of her sister’s lips.
“Need some backup?” he whispered back. It sounded playful, but his eyes were serious as they studied hers.
“No,” she said honestly, but then had to grab his hand when he started to go somewhere.
“It’s okay. I have to get ready for my thing later. I’ll give you some space.” He tugged lightly.
Skylar held on. “I mean, no, I’ve got this, but yes, I want you to stay.” She let go when his hand went limp, and she shrugged. “I mean, you’re the one I was telling last night.”
“Okay,” Damon said. He pulled her to her feet. They moved together into the kitchen.
“So, what’s going on, Skylar?” Jami really did look worried. “What’s this about Mandy? I always thought she was a brilliant manager.”
“She is. Fuck, better than that. She stuck up for me in front of that prick Jack and his father, so they fired her.” Skylar still wanted to rip their heads off over it.
“Jack?” Jami frowned as she noticed Skylar take a shuddering breath at the name. “I haven’t heard his name for a while.” Her hand crossed the counter, resting over where Skylar’s had clenched onto the edge. “You said the breakup was mutual back then.”
“Oh, it fucking was. We hate each other.” Skylar didn’t doubt that the hate was mutual. Only someone that hated her could have held her down like that.
When Damon placed a hand on her back, the tension made her shake. His soothing massage let her take another breath.
“I stayed with the label because his father agreed to cover the shit up, but now they expect me to be around that fucker and that’s not—” Skylar couldn’t catch her breath. “I can’t—” It came out in a weak-ass gasp that ate at her.
“I’ll fucking put his balls in his throat,” Jami said, pulling back as her hand fisted. She nodded as Skylar stared. “Hey, I do that now.”
Skylar shook her head. Damon continued the gentle massage, sapping even more of her anger. “I didn’t even say what he did,” she said, the words squeezed from her tight throat.
“You don’t have to.” Damon’s jaw clenched. She reached over, liking the morning stubble scattered over his face.
“Okay,” she said, not sure if she was relieved or not.
“But if you need to say it.” Jami took a breath, her own body relaxing. “I’m here for you. No matter what. I know we’re still not as close, but I love you, Skylar.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me,” Skylar said, her throat tight again.
“You should meet with Trenton,” Damon said. “I agree with Mandy. You need to get away from this label. Trent will help with that.”
“Yeah,” Skylar murmured. The idea of it still scared the hell out of her. “Yeah, maybe.” She reached for Damon’s glass of water, the liquid cooling her parched throat.
Skylar wore a skintight, aquamarine dress that matched Damon’s eyes, and he was pretty sure his heart was going to explode if she smiled at him while wearing it one more time. They’d mingled among the charity guests for a while, but he’d left Skylar with the others since his performance time was approaching and he wasn’t certain if Jimmy had checked all the equipment yet. He still hadn’t managed to talk to his manager again since Jimmy had been an idiot the day before, but it was hard to complain since it was because Damon had woken up late with his head still in Skylar’s lap. He hadn’t even had a headache from all the tequila he’d drunk.
The weather had remained beautiful, and the event had been set up outdoors. The garden of the villa smelled of flowers, reminding him of Skylar each time he caught a whiff. Lights had been strung up everywhere, and as evening approached, they would add a dreaminess to the setting. Heaters were also spread throughout to stave off the cold, which was necessary since the sun stayed behind the white, fluffy clouds.
A temporary stage had been set up toward the end of the garden. Once Damon was out of sight from the crowd, he jogged toward the equipment behind the stage. He recognized Jimmy’s bowed form and took a breath.
“Everything in order?” Damon asked.
Jimmy straightened. “Shit, Dame, I’m sorry.”
Every other time, that had been enough for Damon to drop it. “It’s not as easy as that,” he said instead.
Jimmy ran his hands over his hair. “Don’t you think I know? Honestly, I can’t fix this.” He waved his hand behind him. “Damn it, whoever trashed your equipment really did a number on it. Nothing is salvageable.”
“What?” Damon’s eyes focused on the pieces of plastic and metal scattered on the ground. Even the cords on the switchboard had been yanked out and stripped. “What the hell happened?”
“Somebody took some type of axe to it or something from the marks. I sent the guys out to see if we could scrounge up something else, but it’s not looking good.”
Damon stepped over the nearest debris carefully, reaching for his guitar case. “All I need—” He’d lifted the lid and his words froze.
“That was destroyed the worst. I found part of the neck over here.” Jimmy’s voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel.
Scrawled across the inner lid of the guitar case were the words ‘Your Match.’ Pictures were scattered in the case, dozens of them, all of him and Skylar. The same blood-red color marked up each picture, crossing out her face with the added message ‘Not Hers’ on every single one.
“Oh, fuck,” Jimmy muttered. He gingerly held a broken guitar string, from which a piece of Damon’s smashed guitar was still attached. “Your superfan seems pissed.”
Some images of Skylar’s face had even been gouged out. Damon had trouble sucking in a breath.
“What do you want to do?” Jimmy asked. “You’re supposed to perform any minute, but we’ve got nothing.”
Like Damon cared about the performance. “Did you see anyone?” He dragged out his phone.
“No, but that’s not surprising, is it?” Jimmy shrugged. “Your fan has always been sneaky.”
It took two tries before Damon’s fumbling fingers could pull up Malcolm’s number.
“What are you doing?” Jimmy asked, but Malcolm had already answered.
“Hey, Mal, I need you and Trent. Can you come back here behind the stage?” His immediate agreement didn’t surprise Damon. Malcolm would have heard the emotion in his voice.
Damon was scared.
Jimmy sighed. “What do you think your friends can do? I know they’ve got connections, but this place is pretty public, Dame.” He frowned. “And they sure as hell won’t have any instruments.”
“Stop acting like this is nothing. I thought you were a Skylar fan.” He jabbed a finger at his still open case. Each time he looked, there seemed to be more images. “This doesn’t worry you at all?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Once you two break things off in a couple of days, your superfan will cool off.” Jimmy patted him on the shoulder. “I mean, it’s not like you and Skylar were meant to be long-term. Memories are short.”
Damon stared at his friend. “I’m in love with her, Jimmy.”
Jimmy’s hand fell away. “I know you think that…”
“I told you yesterday, it’s not some media stunt. Not anymore.” The splashes of red across their photos drew his gaze again. “Besides, I’d never be okay with someone threatening her, even if I didn’t have feelings. This time, we need the cops.”
Jimmy paled. “Don’t you—”
“We’re here, Dame,” Malcolm called. His eyes scanned the area as he approached them with Trenton and Blake behind him.
“Damn,” Blake muttered, kicking at a piece of what used to be Damon’s favorite guitar. “This ain’t no love letter.”
Trenton frowned. “I’ll call the investigators, but Mal, do you think…?”
“Definitely.” He’d already pulled out his phone. Malcolm still had a few contacts at the police station.
“Wait. Will they keep it quiet?” Jimmy’s hands rubbed his arms as Damon’s friends stared at him. “What? This panicked shit never plays out well for Dame’s reputation, and the media’s already here about his performance.”
“They’ll have something else to cover now.” Damon stared down at the message again. “It’s not like I have any instrument to put on the performance anyway. Blake, could you—”
“Am I invited to this party?” Skylar asked as she pushed behind the stage curtain. “It seems everyone else is here.” She moved closer, her eyes widening as she caught the mess. “Shit, your stalker? That bitch needs to get caught.”
“This may be the mistake that’s needed,” Malcolm said, hanging up his phone. “A team’s coming. This venue is closed down.” He squeezed Damon’s shoulder. “They’ll find something, and these guys won’t ignore a threat like this.”
“Not much of a threat.” Skylar bent down and picked up a glossy, black piece of what used to be his guitar. “Dang, she was such a beauty too. You got a backup for your song?”
“I won’t be performing.” Damon watched Skylar’s frown turn into a scowl. “It was just a charity thing. They’ll understand. I’m more worried about you.”
“Fuck that. Let the bitch come. I’ll knock her teeth out.” Skylar dropped the piece of guitar and grabbed his arm instead. “And you’re playing that damn song.” She started to drag him away.
“I need to—”
“Stand around and wring your hands? Nope, let your friends handle that.” She’d pulled out her phone from he didn’t know where in that skintight dress and held it to her ear as she continued to pull on him. “Mandy? How fast can you get my guitar here?”
It was like her manager had been waiting in the wings with it, or time had lost all meaning, as Skylar was trying to push the instrument on him soon enough. All he kept being able to see were the photos of the woman beside him, with red the color of blood dripping down her face. His throat felt too tight for words, much less to sing. When he shook his head at her, Skylar grabbed his chin to stop the movement.
“Don’t let someone take this from you.” Her hazel eyes had shadowed, the blue and green colors muted behind the curtain of the stage. “Don’t let them take anything.”
Damon’s hands still didn’t want to grip the guitar. He curled one around hers where she still held his face, linking their fingers as he pulled it away. “Will you play with me?”
Skylar blinked at him. “It’s not really my type of song.”
“I don’t want you out of sight. Not yet.” Not ever, he added to himself as he waited for her answer. Only that wasn’t realistic. Especially not now.
“Come on,” Skylar said, pulling him out onto the stage.
Most of the guests weren’t fans. No, most were rich and high-end business associates, potential clients of Erin’s husband. The other guests were local employees from the recent businesses Nicholas had taken over. The charity was a publicity stunt, and Erin had been the one to invite Damon to sing. She’d said it’d be like a private showing. He’d had her in mind all along, though, not the other people, or even the media she’d invited.
His sister had never fallen in love before. She’d barely even dated. She stood in her own little bubble with the man that adored her, happier than Damon had ever seen her, though she’d always faked happy really well. Damon was one of the few that understood the difference.
Skylar dropped his hand, shifted her guitar, and played his music. Damon wasn’t surprised that she’d memorized the melody. She had an ear for music, one that rivaled his own.
Without the equipment, the music didn’t carry as far. Silence came over the audience as the notes of Damon’s love song unfurled. His eyes wouldn’t leave Skylar even as she rolled her eyes at him and transitioned back to the beginning because he’d missed his cue for where the lyrics were supposed to start.
As the clouds shifted above the stage and the sun shone on the person Damon couldn’t seem to stop staring at, he sensed his mother’s presence there with them. She was often in his thoughts. She would have liked Skylar.
His throat loosened, and he finally began to sing.
He’d written the song for Erin. His sister had been his biggest fan over the years, even while she’d kept him grounded. She grinned at him from the audience, but his mind couldn’t stay on her.
Weaving his voice with Skylar’s playing felt natural. His hands ached for his guitar, wishing they could play together. As he moved closer to her on the stage, he heard her low humming of the words, and his heart beat harder.
When their eyes met, instead of ending the song, she transitioned one more time into the chorus, using the bend that she’d suggested, and everything was just right. Her voice rose, the husky edge of her unusually low contralto wrapping around his own tenor, mingling perfectly.
“You’re not for me. Never.
Only I wanted you to be.
No longer pushing but pulling,
Always a part of me.
The gift that keeps giving.
Sent, shared, shown.
The gift that keeps giving.
A love that I will own.”
Erin’s catcall was the first thing he could hear over the pounding of his heart. She climbed onto the stage easily enough with those long legs of hers.
“That was fantastic, Dame!” Her laughter wrapped around him.
Over her shoulder, he saw Skylar attempting to escape.
“Wait, hold on.” He reached out, his hand grazing her arm. “Don’t disappear. It’s not safe.”
“Not safe?” Erin frowned as she studied them. She turned to Nicholas, motioning for him to move the charity crowd along before she turned back. “Is there someone I need to bodycheck? I’ve got a mean headbutt.”
“I can fight my own battles.” Skylar’s finger rubbed over one of her guitar strings. “Besides, he’s just being overprotective. I don’t need that shit.” Her hand closed around the neck of her guitar.
“Something’s up,” Erin said, her gaze lingering on Skylar before shifting back to him.
“Just his stalker fucking with him.” Skylar moved closer, tapping his shoulder with hers. “Don’t let it get to you.”
“Shit, Dame. Here?” Erin asked, her eyes beginning to scan the crowd.
“Mal’s got it covered,” Damon told her. “Don’t let it ruin your big event.” He nodded toward Nicholas. “Someone looks lonely.”
“Shut up, he is not.” Her eyes lingered on her husband anyway. “You’ll let us know if there’s anything you need?”
Damon nodded. “Go on, Erin. I’m going to check in with Mal.”
“No wonder Jimmy looked so pissed,” Erin said. “I caught a glimpse of him by the stage while you two were singing and wondered what was up. He takes your stalker shit more seriously than he lets on.”
Damon wondered if that could be true. Perhaps how often Jimmy played down the situation had been more for his benefit.
Damon turned with Skylar toward the curtained end of the stage.
She moved closer to him. “I’m glad you got to do your song.”
“Because of you. Skylar, singing with you—”
“Damn, Skylar, who knew you’d rock a love song,” Jimmy interrupted them as they approached.
“Yeah, not my usual speed,” Skylar agreed.
Jimmy laughed. “Careful, though. Can’t let Damon drag you too far from the rock star image.”
The words slapped at Damon. He stared at his manager, words pressing on his throat. He wondered what had happened to the guy he’d considered a friend. “Look, Jimmy—”
Jimmy held up his hand. “I was just joking, man. Sorry, it was a bad one. My mind is still all messed up from everything that’s going on.” He glanced at Skylar. “And the more I think about what you said, Dame, the more worried I am for Skylar. Maybe I should escort her back to the hotel. This crazed fan of yours hasn’t managed to get into the suite.”
Skylar snorted. “I’ve gotten death threats way more serious than this.”
“You what?” Damon stared at her.
“I told you. I’ve got a lot of haters.” Skylar shrugged. “What’s one more?”
There was a flash in her eyes that made Damon want to reach for her. Her assurances didn’t lessen his worry at all. The exact opposite. He didn’t want to add one more. “I can’t understand that. Even with this stalker, it’s not like they hate me.”
“You sure about that?” Skylar asked.
Jimmy frowned at her. “What do you mean? The fan always goes on and on about being a match for our Dame.”
“I think it’s just someone that wants to fuck with him.” Skylar shifted her guitar to one hand, wrapping her arm around Damon’s waist in a quick squeeze. “And we can’t have that. Mr. Sweetface is totally awesome.”
Damon stared into her eyes, his pulse throbbing. “Skylar…”
She smirked at him. “Don’t look so surprised. I already said I liked you and everything.”
Jimmy laughed. “Don’t lead him on too much, or you’ll break his heart when you leave.”
“He rocks, and I won’t let anyone shit on him. Including you, Jimmy.” She glared at his manager. “So fuck off with your jokes.”
Jimmy flushed.
“I hear it again, and I’m punching you.” Skylar nudged Damon forward. “Come on. The cops over there probably need to talk to you.”
Jimmy didn’t follow them.
Having Skylar defend him wasn’t a bad thing, but there was a dose of guilt and shame thrown in. He needed to set Jimmy straight himself. “I’m sorry,” Damon said. “I still haven’t had time to talk to him about everything. It’s not that—”
“Mandy thinks your manager is a prick and you should fire him.” Skylar’s hand moved to his back, rubbing gently before she pulled away. “Not in those words, but that’s what she meant. And that’s unusual for her.”
“He’s definitely been an ass lately. He wasn’t always that way.” Only Damon was struggling to recall a time recently when he wasn’t.
“You’re not responsible for his shit. Just think about it, okay?” Skylar’s eyes found her own manager. “You deserve someone always in your corner, like Mandy is for me. Speaking of, let me go give her my guitar.”
As Damon watched her, making sure she didn’t leave his sight, he had the thought that he might already have someone like that. Too bad being around him wasn’t safe for her.