Reckless

Chapter 21

It’s not so bad getting around the center of Minneapolis. People are busy going about their day, and even when they’re friendly and smile in greeting, mostly men, at Krista, they pay me no attention. The car she hired is a god send though, knowing it’s there if we need it helps put me at ease.

We went for lunch, walked across the Stone Arch Bridge, and visited the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Krista hasn’t mentioned her love of art before. It’s something we have in common, and she was surprised when I recognized some of the artists' names.

As we walked, I held her hand. A foreign concept for me. Walking the streets with a beautiful woman, holding her hand. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be something I could do. The connection between us only seems to heighten. I’m kind of done worrying about what it means.

Being around her brings me peace. For the first time in ages, I feel like me again. The man I was before Reckless Soul. Only a slightly different version because that part of me is still inside and always will be.

We find a bookstore and her eyes light up because it spans three floors. I suggest we separate, but only because I’m hunting for her books. Krista heads off, after confirming three times I’ll be alright.

Truth is, if anything happens, I’d rather she wasn’t here. Keeping my head down, I head to the thriller fiction section. When I come upon a row containing her books, I’m surprised by how many titles there are.

Krista has talked a lot about her writing and she’s working as much as she can in between our stops, and the sex. In fact, she’s said I’m becoming too much of a distraction, which I’m not mad about. But she’s never told me how prolific her work is.

Running my finger along the books, I count eleven titles. And she said there are some you can only get online right now.

The one with the ballerina slippers covered in blood piques my attention, reminding me of the ballerina slippers in the RV. I turn it over and read the back. Then I open the book and read the whole of the last chapter, standing in front of the shelves.

My brows lift because although I know she’s good at what she does, no doubt about her talent, this doesn’t sound like her. I suppose the books authors write are an escape from their real worlds. I mean, Krista isn’t a ballerina. Or a psychotic killer.

Someone clears their throat next to me.

“Do you know how wrong what you just did is?” A female voice asks.

Glancing over, I try to keep the brim of the cap over my eyes. Hopefully, I look like a creep, and she backs off. No such luck. The woman isn’t angry. She’s smiling.

“Reading the last chapter is a cardinal sin. Now how are you going to enjoy the rest of the book knowing the build-up and all the suspense are gone?”

“Guess I don’t like surprises.”

She shakes her head, but she isn’t mad about it. It’s obvious why. Women don’t approach random men unless they’re interested. My anxiety rises, but I keep my face neutral. It’s a talent I’ve gained over the years. The instinct to look around for the bodyguards we normally have tailing us everywhere flares up. I’m alone here.

It’s one woman. I will not let her ruin what has been a great day so far. She’s about my age, short, with brown hair and eyes. She’s wearing a lot of make-up and grinning.

“Have you read many of her books?” she asks. Clearly not letting this go.

Over her shoulder, I notice Krista coming down the stairs. She spots me, and the woman and her jaw tenses. It’s her I’m watching as the woman continues talking. The determined stride and look of annoyance on her gorgeous face has me smirking. Then the woman snags my attention again.

“She’s okay,” she’s saying. “I’d recommend other authors over her. I mean, some of her storylines are far-fetched and at times you can tell she hasn’t done any research.”

“You’re telling me not to read her books?” My tone is more annoyed than curious, but this woman is oblivious. I’m sure she wouldn’t be saying this shit if she knew the author is standing behind her.

“Well, there are far better authors out there. I could show you.” She beams out another smile, attempting to flirt with me.

Krista stops behind her and arches her brow at me.

“I think she is an amazing author.” I focus back on the woman. “In fact, I’d say after reading that part of the book, she is going to be my favorite author.”

“Come on. You can’t know that from reading one chapter.”

Krista's brow arches higher. Her lips twitch, she enjoys knowing I just read part of her book. At least that makes this next part easier.

Glancing about, I spot a stand holding baskets. I walk over and grab one, then toss a copy of every one of her books into it. Krista is visibly laughing now.

I’d give anything for her to walk up and make herself known, but she won’t do that. She’s like me in that regard. People like what they like. Krista will be the first to say not everyone likes her style or wants to read her work. This woman bashing her pisses me off.

The woman is watching in surprise as I heft up the basket.

“Well, that’s great. I mean, I love to see men reading. So, would you maybe want to get a cup of coffee? I can give you some more recommendations.”

Krista makes herself known. “Honey, really? We don’t have any room left for all these books.” She walks right up to my side and gives the woman a tight smile.

“What can I say? I’m addicted.” I look directly into Krista’s eyes. The woman behind vanishes from my existence at Krista’s soft smile.

Not wanting to be a rude fucker, I spare the woman a glance. “Thanks anyway.” I put my arm around Krista and turn us away.

“God, that was mean.” Krista shakes her head.

“It was about to get awkward. Rescuing me was the right thing to do.”

“Well, once she’s gone, you can put the books back.”

“I’m buying them.”

“No you’re not.”

I laugh and tug her towards the registers. “I am.”

“Jude, you don’t need to buy my books. You said yourself you don’t read.”

“You don’t need to buy my music, you don’t sing.”

“That’s different,” she shakes her head.

“Whatever. I’m buying them.”

She has a couple of books in her hand, which I take and drop into the basket with mine, not leaving her much room to argue, as I make my way to the registers and get in line.

“Well, I can give you copies if you really want them,” she continues protesting.

“You don’t have any with you. I plan to read one of them tonight. I’m not taking anything from you for free. You deserve to be paid for your work.”

Her brow puckers. I’m not sure if she is embarrassed or getting irritated. I drop a kiss on her forehead to smooth out the lines. Krista blinks up at me a few times. Then we’re called to the next cashier. And once she sees I’m serious, she stops arguing.

The woman is standing near the doors as we pass by. I don’t make eye contact but feel her watching us all the way out of the store.

After dropping off the books at the car, we head to Lake Harriet and walk around the park. We get ice cream and sit on a bench watching the boats going around on the lake. Krista suggests we try a paddle boat. I’m hesitant, but she can be very convincing when she wants to be.

I’m not a big fan of the water. I live right by the ocean, but it scares the shit out of me. I guess I can manage paddling around a lake. They’re the kind you use your feet to pedal, and seem much sturdier than the sail boats, or even the kayaks that are out on the water already.

It’s a lot of fun and we spend a good hour paddling around, laughing, and enjoying the sun. I’ve never been so relaxed in my life.

“Ugh, my thighs are getting ready to give out,” Krista says, rubbing them through her linen shorts.

“Need a hand with that.” I reach over and squeeze one.

“Maybe back at the RV,” she winks.

I lean over and take her chin, so her head tips towards me. We kiss, and it’s sweet and soft until I dip my tongue inside and then it gets hotter, and my cock perks up. God, what this woman does to me. I’m ravenous for her.

Her hand comes to my chest, and she pushes me back. “Keep it PG mister, there are kids around.”

Her chest and cheeks are flushed. Maybe it’s time to head back. With less than stellar finesse, we get the boat turned around and pointed back to the launch where we rented it.

As we near the edge of the lake, I notice a couple of people with their phones up. My heart picks up. There have been people out here taking pictures all day, families and friends enjoying themselves, but these cameras are pointed at us.

Fuck.

We pushed it too far. And they just got photographs of me and Krista kissing on the lake. Double fuck. My rage grows the closer we get to the shore and the men walk nearer.

“When we get out, head over to those trees, over near the exit, okay? Keep your head down, pull your hair to hide your face.”

“What? Why?” She sees the two guys who are now hurrying to where we are about to stop.

“Jude!”

“Hey, that’s Jude Smallwood!”

“Hey man, can we get an autograph?”

I thank the rental man and take Krista’s hand, half pushing her behind me and making sure she is doing what I said. She isn’t. Damn. I glare at her, but she stubbornly stays put.

This isn’t about anything other than protecting her. If they get pictures and plaster them all over social media, this is over.

Usually, the best way to deal with this is to take pictures and leave. They get what they want. But I don’t want that part of my life intruding on this. For a moment, I think about running, but that would draw even more attention.

Too late. Other people are looking over.

“Krista, go,” I tell her.

“I can’t leave you.”

“I’m fine. Go get the car.”

She shakes her head. I want to kiss her for wanting to support me, but her safety is all I give a shit about. Fuck it. I don’t make eye contact with the fans. I grab her hand and walk away.

“Jude,” Krista clutches my hand. “More people are noticing.”

“Fucking hell. Don’t look back.”

We start moving faster. Of course, she ignores me and looks back. I can already see the headlines, her gorgeous face plastered everywhere. A split second has ruined everything.

“Jude,” Krista says again.

“Just keep walking.”

“No, look.” She tugs my hand and stops.

I risk a look over my shoulder and am shocked as shit to see Luther and Riggs. They’re talking to the two men, herding them back. Luther looks over and nods.

“Who are they?” Krista asks.

I’m still too stunned to speak. This is what we’re well-versed in. They stop them, I leave. Usually there would be someone else with me, but I don’t waste any time hurrying away again, knowing they’ll deal with them, and any pictures they took.

My concern for Krista supersedes the anger of knowing they’re here. How fucking long have they been around, following us? Seeing everything I’ve been doing with Krista today. Or the rest of the time we’ve been on the road? They’ve been here the whole time, I know it.

Maybe not Riggs, because he was with Solene, but another thought enters my head. She’s back in LA. That look he gave her when she blurted she was pregnant told me a lot. He’s stayed with me and not gone back to LA with her.

Fuck. The whole time I’ve been wading through my conflicting thoughts, I’ve been marching Krista out of the park.

“Do you know those guys?” she asks as we get out onto the street, where there are more people to worry about.

She has no clue what is going on, but I’m too determined to get her out of here. Now that I’ve been spotted, I’m on edge. It only takes one person to spread the news. Luther and Riggs can’t handle a huge crowd.

“They work for the band. Our security.”

“What are they doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

We reach the car and Krista hands me the keys. I get into the driver’s side, peeling away into traffic, hoping no one is following us. Luther and Riggs aren’t. Maybe we can get to the RV and get the hell out of here. Lose them before they catch up.

But that isn’t gonna happen and I know it. The RV Is at a camping ground, they’ll know exactly where we’re headed. Luther must have had access to the tracker on my cell phone.

A conversation is going to be had.

“Jude, take it easy,” Krista says.

My foot eases off the gas. I’m not even sure where we are, or how to get back to the campsite.

“Shit, sorry. That was… I’m sorry.”

“Focus on the road,” she says, her tone even. “We’re okay. It could have gone worse, but it didn’t. You’re pissed about those security guys being there? They just saved our asses.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Not see the scary side of what just happened. That could have gone to shit. You could have been in danger.”

“So could you.”

“Krista. I’m worried about you,” I snap.

“Noted,” she winds down her window a little and lets some much-needed air in. “Let’s not have this conversation again. I thought I made it clear after Rapid City.”

I’m finding it hard to breathe. The anxiety I’ve been getting a handle on is back in full force right now. Her hand comes down on my thigh. I glance at it, then up at her.

“Take the next left,” she says calmly. “I’d like us to get back to the RV park in one piece, okay? Just breathe. Do you need me to drive?”

“No, no,” I shake my head and do as she says. “It’s distracting me from freaking out.”

“That’s reassuring.”

A wry snicker comes out. I focus on the road and follow her directions.

We park by the RV and get out. Krista tells me to wait and goes inside. When she comes back out, she’s holding my guitar case. I frown as she walks to the back of the RV and follow her. She’s pulling down the ladder.

I’m not letting her climb up there holding the guitar, so I take it from her. She steps back and points. Without a word I climb up and a minute later she joins me, holding a blanket.

There are a lot of other RVs around, but they’re all quiet. It’s almost dinner time, people will be out enjoying their evening. Krista spreads the blanket and sits down. I join her as she lays down.

“Play that song you’ve been writing the last few days,” she says.

Whenever she’s been writing, I’ve been working on the song, sometimes outside, up here or occasionally while she’s in the room. I take the guitar out, running my hand over the smooth wood. I focus on the instrument, on the smell and feel of the strings as I rest it on my thighs. Krista closes her eyes and doesn’t say a word while I play.

The lyrics are coming together in my head, but I haven’t finished them, so I just strum the melody.

I watch Krista the whole time. How did she know this would be the best way to calm me down? I was intending on getting on the phone and finding out what the fuck is going on, how long Luther has been following me around. Everything slips away as I play and watch her.

Her eyes remain closed. She looks peaceful, breathing softly. My fingers move with no thought, and I segue into 'Every Time You Leave' by I Prevail, then other songs. Ones I loved to play when I was a kid, mixed in with some of my own, until my breathing is back to normal and my head is clear.

Well, clear enough to know that Krista Benke is doing something to me. To my way of thinking, to the way I deal with my emotions. I feel raw and exposed, but she’s burrowed her way in without me realizing.

That’s not true, I’ve realized. I’ve felt it. My hardened heart has slowly been opening to her. I’m safe with her and I’ve never had that with a woman before. She doesn’t judge me, she doesn’t care about my status, she’ll do anything to help me.

Will it last? After this, will she change her mind? Want me gone?

Fuck knows if any of those pictures slipped by Luther and Riggs. How different will she treat me if the world finds out where I am and who I’m with?

That thought terrifies me. My chest feels tight again at the thought of her not being in my life.

My eyes squeeze shut, and I focus on the music again. Even without looking at her, I’m fully aware of her at my side. I’m stunned to realize it’s like I’ve known Krista for a lot longer than we’ve been around one another.

“What’s it called?” she asks into the silence. "The song you first played."

I’ve stopped playing as my mind turns over the thoughts and feelings I’m experiencing for her.

“To be confirmed,” I reply.

She peeks one eye open and looks at me. “It’s lovely.”

Only she could call the beginnings of a rock song lovely. Staring at her sends a heady rush through me. My cock stirs as the hunger grips me. It would be wrong to move over her and fuck her on the top of the RV in broad daylight, but it takes a hell of a lot of restraint not to move.

Krista says nothing as she watches me. Can she possibly feel the same way I do? Looking into her eyes, I can tell she does. We move at the same time, and I set the guitar aside as she climbs into my lap.

The kiss doesn’t help the situation in my pants any and especially with the heat between her thighs pressed up against me, but we only kiss. All her calm flows into me as her fingers tease the hair at the nape of my neck.

She arches into my hands roaming between us, gripping her breasts, and squeezing them. Maybe I am going to fuck her on the roof. Her little moans encourage me, and I push my hips up, grinding against her.

It’s fast becoming obvious Krista doesn’t seem to mind about getting dirty with me in public.

The sound of a car pulling up right beside the RV breaks me out of the trance. Krista licks her damp lips. They’re full and flushed red. She looks so God damned beautiful.

But the inevitable is here. Part of my old life has just crashed into the peace of my new one.