Chapter 10
Like a sudden thunderclap, I’m quickly jolted awake as if yanked out of my peaceful slumber by an unknown threat. My breathing is fast, and my heart drums with an unexpected urgency.
A sense of disorientation hangs heavy as my subconscious struggles to reconcile with the abrupt awakening.
Why am I so afraid?
My inner voice catches onto the lingering, nameless fear I feel.
Still shrouded in the haze of sleep, my eyes flicker wide open, scanning the familiar surroundings for any tangible threat that might explain the haunting panic.
Storm’s at the end of my bed; his head is up, waiting for my command.
“Sleep, boy. I’m good,” I tell him, and he hesitates momentarily before resting his head back down.
The shades are drawn, but bright lines of light manage to escape through the cracks.
Casting off the bedcovers, I sit up in bed, realizing I’m stark naked.
This isn’t the first time I find myself in this situation. I must have fallen asleep in the bath again and Catalina carried me here, tucked me in, and left me alone.
Dammit, I don’t even recall when it happens. But my hair smells freshly clean and strangely dry, not damp. I get out of bed, go over to the blinds, and pull them up.
The strong sun filters in over my body.
It makes no sense. It was midday when I last remembered, and I glance over at the clock on the table by my bed. It’s midmorning.
Did I pass out again?
For how long this time?
I grab a t-shirt neatly folded from my closet and a fresh pair of panties and hastily put them on. Standing on my toes, I reach up and grab the small duffle bag from the top shelf inside the closet. I throw in some items: clothing, panties, and bras.
“Catalina!” I call out.
I hear her open my bedroom door a minute later, “What’s going on?”
She’s looking at my bag as I quickly zip it up and grab a pair of my black skinny denims to wear.
“How long was I out this time?”
She looks at me with a mixture of concern and disapproval.
“A long time. You were out stone cold in the bathtub. I took you to your bed and was going to call the doctor, but you seemed so peaceful, as usual. You are probably just exhausted.”
From what?
I hardly do anything!
“I’ll be gone for a few days,” I see her expression, and she’s about to object.
“I’ll always keep thinking about the what if,” I add, knowing what she’s thinking.
She frowns even more.
“If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll get back in my truck and head home.”
I know she cares, and I want to reassure her.
“What about Storm and his physio?”
“There are therapists for dogs in LA, too.”
“Your safety!”
“Catalina,” I sigh. “Sometimes, you need to step back and let me live a little.”
“I care about you. Is that bad?”
“I’m also your employer. You’re not a guest here or my mother.”
I watch her wince at my words. I know she’s sacrificed a lot to stay with me all these years, and I never asked her, but she felt I needed her. So I kept her on for as long as she wanted to stay even though, in reality, I hired her only because I was a minor when I started out in this industry, and one of the terms of my emancipation from the court was that I hire an adult caretaker to live with me until I was 18.
But I’m 28 now and hardly a child.
Moving close to her, I take her hand in mine and gaze into the eyes of the woman who’s stuck by me through thick and thin. When I fled my old life, she ran with me, no questions asked, and for that, I will always be grateful.
Silver strands interweave with the strands of darker hues in her hair. Over the years, she’s transformed, and her locks reflect how she’s gracefully navigated into her age.
Her eyes, once bright with the exuberance of youth, now hold a depth that mirrors the wisdom accumulated through the years. They sparkle with a unique radiance, an inner light that only time could bestow. The subtle crow”s feet that fan out from the corners of her eyes speak of countless smiles shared with me over the years.
And cries. We had a lot of those.
Especially me.
“I respect your opinion, Catalina. Just don’t force it on me. I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, darling. I’ve seen you transform into the beautiful woman you are. I’ve been there during your highs and your lows. I might be on your payroll, but I am the closest person you have as family.”
“I appreciate you. But I need to do this, and you need to understand.”
“Shall I pack a bag?”
“No, I need you to hold the fort here. Perhaps I’ll return soon. You’re right about them. My guard will be up, and I’m only going for the music.”
I turn the navigation off as soon as I drive through the opened black iron gates of the property I am familiar with.
How many times had I come here? But that was a lifetime ago. Circumstances and emotions were different.
Nestled amidst the lush greenery, this opulent residence stands as a testament to luxury and sophistication. As I drive through the open gates, the familiarity hits me with a touch of nostalgia.
If the guys weren’t at my old place in Bel Air, then they were here. If I remember correctly, I think they lived here whenever they were in LA.
Haze’s residence always captured that essence of modern but affluent living, combining style, comfort, and a sense of exclusivity in every meticulously crafted detail.
I park my truck next to the two SUV rentals and hop out, letting Storm follow me before closing the vehicle door.
Music plays in the distance, and I know where they might be.
It’s late afternoon, and I’ve been driving for hours, but I’d know that familiar jam anywhere.
Skipping the front door, I walk all the way to the end of the wall, to the side entrance, where the staff would come through to take care of the day-to-day runnings of the property.
I ring the bell there and wait.
Some moments later, I hear the lock and latch unhook, and the door opens to reveal two pairs of deep blue eyes staring at me. A warm smile emerges on Jagger’s face.
“Will it be a hundred percent our songs?” I ask, and his smile extends as far as it can go on his face.
“There is no other way.” He says and steps aside to allow me through. “Good to see you, Eden.”
Without waiting for him, I take the path towards the Haze’s mini sound studio.
Pushing the doors open to the small, purposely built building located within the gardens of the property, a flood of emotions rush in, both familiar and foreign. The sight of familiar instruments; guitars, drums, and a keyboard. But it”s who’s using them that stops me in my tracks.
“Eden!” I hear Haze call out with surprise.
Suddenly, the random music stops playing, and the attention is directed at me as if I’m transported to a stage, and the spotlight shines on me.
“Fancy having an extra bandmate?” I say sheepishly.
“You’ve always been a member, luv,” Asher says.
“I brought Storm with me,” I say to Haze. “I hope you don’t mind.”
But Asher is already by my side, crouching down and greeting my furry partner.
“Of course, he doesn’t,” he says, answering for Haze as he scratches Storm’s neck.
“So, how long do you plan to be here?” Callum says warily. He seems to have thawed since our altercation at my house but sees me here with guarded uncertainty.
“Not that anyone’s complaining,” Jagger says behind me.
“Where are your bags?” Haze asks, “One of us should go get them.”
“This was kind of a last-minute decision. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here tonight, but in the morning I’ll stay at Brittney’s until I can find a place for me and Storm. I would have gone there tonight, but she’s in San Francisco and will only return later this evening.”
If they are disappointed, none of them show it. Haze shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not going to force you, Eden. There are five bedrooms and only four of us. The fifth one is empty and is yours if you want it. No pressure from us.”
“I think it’s best,” I confirm.
“Whatever you want, luv,” Jagger quietly says.
Asher stands up, grins at me, and silently goes back to the mixer, where I see hundreds of different vinyl records and assume they’re sampling for beats.
“Get comfortable then,” Haze says, and I lead Storm to the mini couch.
Fuck. I have crazy, illicitly hot memories with all five of them here. Not on this particular furniture, it looks new and if I remember correctly the old one was black leather, this one’s red.
“I’m surprised you kept the house,” I say, leaving my large slouchy hobo bag on the couch and grabbing a seat next to Ash. He hands me a set of headphones.
“Me too,” I hear Haze say before putting on the set to listen to what they’ve been working on.
It’s almost midnight, and I mentioned after dinner, I would have an early night because I was tired from the long drive.
It was half a lie.
In truth, I’m totally wired with all the feelings I’m experiencing.
Surreal doesn’t even cover my emotions. To be back in the house where it all started. The place where I gave myself to these boys and thus began a year of our whirlwind romance. And the whole evening with them, I had to keep reminding myself that this is purely business. But how does one separate oneself from the past and live in the present when the past feelings are still so raw?
I’m glad the guys kept their distance but in a friendly way. None of them talked about their personal lives. I have no idea whether they have girlfriends, wives, or children back in England.
My brain is a freaking mess.
And here I am, staring at the blackened ceiling in this dark room with the lights off, wondering whether I can do this and be in close proximity with them again.
They all smell so fucking good too—
My thoughts are interrupted as my phone buzzes a message notification.
Maybe it’s Brittney, and she wants to hear the lowdown from me. I turn to my side and unplug the phone from the charger.
Anon:Good to see you’re back.
Who is this?
An unsettling feeling casts a dark shadow over me.
A shiver runs down my spine as the phone vibrates in my hand.
Anon:Your biggest fan.
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, a visceral reaction to the unwelcome intrusion into my personal space. A mixture of fear, anger, and a resurgence of memories I had sought to bury surge within me. The message is a jarring reminder of a past I had worked hard to distance myself from.
I switch my phone off and shove it into the bedside table drawer.
That once-forgotten fear resurfaces, and the simple act of receiving a text message becomes a stark reminder of the complex emotions tied to an unfortunate and unsettling chapter of my life.
Closing my eyes, I pray that tomorrow produces a better day.
I’m navigating a surreal realm where shadows seem to dance with an unsettling life of their own.
As I traverse an unfamiliar landscape, the surroundings twist and morph, revealing an ever-shifting reality. The colors are muted, and it feels like I’m in a distorted reflection of my subconscious fears. I continue moving with a sense of trepidation, an unspoken awareness that something malevolent lurks in the shadows, watching my every move.
In the distance, an ominous figure takes shape—an embodiment of darkness and malice. Its presence seems to warp the entire area, casting an unsettling pallor over the landscape. A chill runs down my spine as the figure approaches, its features obscured by a shroud of darkness.
“Eden.”
Everything is warped and contorted, and I’m struggling to escape the clutches of this dark force that seems to feed on my fears.
“Eden.”
The firm knock on my door jolts me awake, and I’m left with a lingering sense of unease, as if the remnants of my dream have seeped into my waking consciousness. The malevolent presence and the surreal landscapes have become haunting images etched into my memory, leaving me to grapple with the unsettling residue of a dream that has woven together the threads of fear and the inexplicable.
Gasping for breath, I sit up in bed, trying to shake off that disturbing dream still lingering in my mind. Drenched in sweat, I grab the hem of my T-shirt, abruptly pull it off my body, and toss it across this large bed. It’s the only item of clothing I had on my body.
As I attempt to gather my thoughts, there’s a gentle knock on the door. Startled, I gaze toward the door, my heart racing again. The knock comes again, a rhythmic and reassuring sound in the otherwise silent night.
“Eden, are you alright?”
That muffled voice belongs to Asher.
How long has he stood behind the door?
“I’m fine. Please go away,” I call out.
“I just want to see if you”re okay.” I can hear the concern in his voice.
“Yep, I’m good.”
I reach out to the bedside table where I dropped my purse earlier and rummage through it until I find what I’m looking for. I open the prescription bottle and pop a pill into my mouth. Swallowing it dry, I let the bag drop to the floor.
Resting my head back on the pillow, I shut my eyes. In a few moments, I’ll be in a deep sleep with no recollections of my dreams.