9. Not Every Queen Wants a Castle
CHRISTIAN AND SIMON give me questioning glances when I finally get backstage, but I don”t feel the need to explain where I”ve been. I just tread right out and grab my bass, ready to finish this last set. To get this night over with so I can find a way to reset yet again.
I don”t know what it is about Piper. She makes me fucking stupid. Sends every bit of sense I”ve managed to acquire falling out of my head the second her skin is under my hands.
It would be fucking miserable if it wasn”t also so fucking amazing.
We’re two songs in before she reappears, still looking dazed and disheveled from our time in the back, and I can”t help but feel smugly satisfied when the guy from earlier gives her a wary gaze from across the room and doesn”t even try to get close.
I had no right to claim her the way I did—I know that.
I just don”t fucking care.
As we finish out the last of our show, I don’t even try to keep my eyes off her. Watching Piper across the bar is the least of the terrible things I”ve done tonight.
When the show is finally over, I’m beyond ready to get the fuck out of here. I fly through breakdown, packing everything up at record speed before loading it into the back of the box truck we use to transport our equipment. Lydia, Myra, and Piper help, making the process even faster. I”m sliding one of our stage lights into the back when I notice Piper”s limp. I grit my teeth, knowing I should ignore it. I”ve already paid too much attention to her tonight, and I’m sure someone’s going to have something to say about it.
But when her hobble gets more pronounced, I can”t stop myself. I pull the coil of cord she”s carrying out of her hands, hooking it over one arm as I dig my keys from my pocket then hold them out. ”Go sit in my Jeep. You need to get off your foot.”
I”m not normally the bossy type. Outside of what has to be done as the owner of my business, I don”t try to tell women—or anyone for that matter—what to do. But Piper needs to be bossed around a little. She”s a loose cannon, and her aim is fucking terrible. She”s also hell on wheels. Which is why I”m a little shocked when she takes my keys, flashing me what seems to be a grateful smile before limping her way to my SUV.
I watch her go, a little of the tension across my shoulders relaxing as she slips inside.
”Is she okay?” Simon pauses beside me, brows pinched together in concern. ”She wasn”t moving too well.”
”I”m sure she overdid it.” I load the cord I took from Piper into the truck, eyes going back to where she sits in my Jeep. ”She”s stubborn as hell, doesn”t know when to quit.”
”You”ll have that.” Simon sounds completely disinterested, which is just as surprising as Piper”s willingness to do as I asked. Our drummer has had a penchant for wild women, and Piper should be right up his alley. But, outside of his initial meeting with her, his interest in her has been nothing more than casual. Friendly.
Which is probably a real fucking good thing. I”d been half tempted to throw the guy trying to hit on Piper out of the club with my bare hands. I wasn”t mad at him—I understand her appeal—I just didn”t want him anywhere near her. I”m not sure how I would react if Simon expressed any sort of interest in Piper. Probably not well.
Simon bumps me with his shoulder before jerking his chin toward where my Jeep sits. ”Go check on her. Make sure she”s okay.”
Now that it’s someone else”s idea, I quickly break away from the group, going straight to the open passenger’s door of my SUV. Once again I”m surprised to find Piper looking remarkably docile.
No. Not docile.
I lean closer, taking in her pale skin and slightly clammy brow. ”What”s wrong?”
She leans back in the plush leather seat, one hand slung across her forehead, left leg stretched out as far as she can get it. ”Nothing.”
I let out a long sigh, holding her gaze a second before slamming the door. I go back to where Christian now stands with Simon. ”Piper’s aggravated her ankle. I’m going to take her back and get her some ice. Can you guys handle the rest of this?”
Christian’s brows lift. ”I wondered if they”d given her a little too much freedom with that brace.” He shakes his head. ”Give that one an inch and she’ll take a mile.”
I know he”s not wrong, but his assessment of Piper rubs me the wrong way. ”Can you blame her for wanting to be back on her feet?” I grit my teeth, knowing I need to shut my mouth but unable to stop. ”She lost her job, her apartment. Has spent weeks in a cast, living in someone else”s house. She just fucking wants something to get back to normal.”
Christian has the decency to look guilty. ”I wasn”t saying anything bad. Piper just doesn”t give herself a second to breathe.”
I”m not sure he”s right on that, but I let him think he is and ask my original question again. ”Is it okay if I go?”
”Of course.” Christian glances at where Piper sits ”Make sure she puts it up too.”
I don”t acknowledge his recommendation. I know how to take care of this. I might not have a perfect house or the kind of life a woman would want to find her way into, but I can fucking make sure Piper’s foot feels better.
I jog up to the driver’s side of my SUV and climb in to find Piper looking just as pale as she was when I left. She’s got one arm across her eyes, blocking out the light of the parking lot and I don’t want to disturb her, so I reach across to carefully buckle her in before starting the engine and cranking up the air. The interior isn”t warm, but hopefully the cool air will give her something else to focus on. Her arm stays in place as we drive, and she barely moves until we’re pulling up into my doorless, detached garage.
She makes like she”s going to get out on her own, and I shoot her a sharp look. ”Wait for me.” I hustle around the back end, opening her door and scooping her out, carrying her across my chest. The fact that she doesn”t argue with me tells me everything I need to know about just how much pain she”s in.
Moving carefully, I take the steps up to the back door, doing my best not to jostle her as I unlock the deadbolt and let us in. Once again, I”m disappointed in myself for slacking on the remodel I should have finished long ago. No doubt Piper would be more comfortable in Christian’s cozy, perfectly thought-out home, but I brought her here instead. Shouldn”t have, but just like so many of the other things I shouldn”t do, I did it anyway. And I’m getting less and less bothered by it with every self-imposed rule I break.
After carrying her to the sofa, I gently settle her down in the spot I usually occupy. Holding her legs steady, I carefully raise the footrest, rocking her body back as her feet lift as high as I can get them. For added height, I grab one of the pillows from the opposite end and carefully stack it under her left foot. It’s a bed pillow, not a throw pillow, so it cushions not only her foot and ankle, but also the rest of her leg from the knee down, offering extra support on the injured limb.
Once she”s in place, I go to the fridge and dig out my ice packs. I keep a number of them on hand because I”m prone to injury myself. I like to stay on schedule, so when things are running behind in the shop I frequently pitch in, and I”m not a careful mechanic. More often than not, I smash a finger or burn a palm, so I keep an ample supply of first aid at the ready.
I wrap a few of the larger packs into a kitchen towel and carry it over, carefully resting the collection across the area where Piper’s bone was broken. With that done, I go back to my counter, selecting the frequently used anti-inflammatory from its place and tipping a few out into my palm. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I go back to her side, sitting carefully so I don”t jostle her. ”Take these. They”ll help.”
Piper doesn”t ask any questions, she throws all three pills into her mouth, and swallows them down with a few long gulps of water. She hands the bottle back, inhaling slowly through her nose and blowing slightly shaky breaths out her mouth. ”I don”t know why it started to hurt like this all of a sudden.”
I look her over, thinking through the events of the past few hours. Guilt crashes into me as I realize whose fault her pain is. ”Shit.” I rake a hand through my hair, feeling like an even bigger asshole than I already knew I was. “It’s my fault.” I struggle to meet her eyes as I remind us both of my indiscretion. “You were balanced on your bad foot…” I search for a suitable word to narrow down the timeline without ramping up my guilt, but fail. “Earlier.”
Her eyes widen a fraction. “Oh.” Her skin pinks as her head spins away, gaze drifting around my house, moving across all the things I should have done long ago.
I’ve been fine living this way. Fine with the unfinished floors and walls. But having her here beside me, looking it all over, makes me wish I’d done more. Made it more comfortable. More attractive.
More appealing.
“Why do you live like this?” She meets my gaze. “Really?” Her question is soft. Gentle. Nothing like the ones she normally slings my way. It carries zero judgment. Only curiosity.
And maybe a little sadness.
“I—” It’s not easy to explain. Not to someone who didn’t grow up the way I did. “It just didn’t seem like there was a point to spend all the money it would take to finish.”
”It doesn”t have to be crazy expensive.” She snorts out an amused little laugh. ”You don”t have to go as crazy as Christian did in his place.” Her nose wrinkles a little. ”His house is pretty, but everything in it is so expensive and perfect and it just feels like I have to be careful not to bump into anything or spill something. I can”t just flop down on the couch and relax with a bowl of cereal, you know?”
I”m stunned at her assessment of my best friend’s place. It”s always been the kind of house I assumed everyone wanted. ”I think his place is nice.”
”It is nice.” The words rush out. ”I”m not saying it”s not.” Her brows pinch together, like she”s not sure what to say next. ”I guess I’ve just gotten used to secondhand furniture and hand-me-downs, so it doesn”t really feel like a home to me.”
Piper hasn”t directly offered up any information about her past. Everything I”ve gotten has been inferred through an unrelated discussion. Just like now. But I want more from her. As much as I appreciate who she is now, I find myself wondering what”s brought her to this point. ”Is that how you grew up?”
She snorts again, but this time it carries no amusement. ”No.” She chews her lower lip for a second, and I think that”s all I”m going to get. It”s more than she”s offered so far, but I”m still disappointed.
But then she says, ”I grew up in a place way nicer than Christian’s house.” Her lips flatten, pressing into a thin line. ”And it sure as hell never felt like a home.”
I soak up this new, and admittedly unexpected information. I know I should stop while I”m ahead, but I can”t. Piper is turning out to be quite a fucking drug, and it”s making me into a junkie. Willing to do anything to get another hit. ”That explains why his place doesn”t feel homey to you, but not why secondhand shit does.”
Again, Piper hesitates, and again I think I”ve gotten as high as I”m going to get tonight.
Her eyes fall to the sofa, one finger sliding along the seam at the edge of a cushion. ”I moved out when I was sixteen, and I couldn’t afford much.” She continues following the corner of the cushion with the tip of her finger. ”I worked as many hours as I was allowed at the grocery store in my neighborhood, but I was so young there were limits.” She shrugs. ”Once I paid my rent and bought food, there wasn”t much left to go around, so I had to figure out how to make it work.”
I have a million questions. How in the hell did she get an apartment at sixteen? Why did she have to move out in the first place? If her parents had a house nicer than Christian’s, why the fuck didn’t they help her out?
But only one question feels like it matters.
”Did it feel like a home?”
Her lips pull into a slow smile as she finally lifts her eyes to mine. ”It did.” Her expression is suddenly soft and open. ”I got the ugliest couch I”ve ever seen from this older lady at work, but it was so comfortable. All my dishes were mismatched, so I”d pick whichever one fit my mood for the day. It was kinda fun to have something different all the time.” She blows out a breath, shoulders dropping as her posture relaxes. ”It wasn”t big or fancy like the house I lived in before, but it was always quiet and calm and cozy and safe. And I fucking loved it.”
When she falls quiet, I let her. Piper”s given me more insight than I expected to get, and it”s helping me understand her a little more. Helping me narrow down the possibilities of why she is the way she is.
I”m not sure if she wants the same from me, but I feel obligated to give her something back. And a little part of me hopes she wants to know me the same way I want to know her. ”I did not grow up in a nice house.”
Her lips purse, twisting to one side as she gives me a small nod. ”I kind of figured that since you said this is the nicest place you”ve ever lived.”
I almost get derailed over her memory of what I”ve said, but I can ponder the reasons for that later. ”In a way, I grew up a lot like Christian and Lydia.” It was what initially tied Christian, Simon, and I together. The parallels between our pasts. They weren’t identical though. Each had its own unique misery. ”My dad didn’t just think women should be subservient. He also believed he was entitled to have more than one at a time. My mother was number three.”
Piper”s eyes widen as she breathes out a hushed, ”Oh shit.”
I nod. ”Yeah.” Raking one hand through my hair, I force myself to explain a little more of my twisted childhood. ”Unfortunately, he didn”t quite have the bank account to fund three wives and all the kids that came with it, so we were fucking destitute. Lived all together in the cheapest places we could find. Ate the cheapest food. Wore the cheapest clothes until they were literally falling off our bodies.”
Piper’s eyes move over my face, expression pinched in sympathy. ”No wonder you ran away.”
I laugh, because that would have made sense. It”s just not what happened. ”I didn”t run away. I got too big to feed, and my dad decided I was old enough I should be able to take care of myself, so he shoved my ass out the door when I was fifteen.”
Piper leans forward, her sympathy turning to outrage. ”But you couldn”t even drive. How did he expect you to get a job and get back and forth to school?”
”School?” I shake my head. ”School wasn”t really a thing we did. Sending us to school might have exposed one of my family”s many secrets, and they couldn”t have that.”
Piper’s eyes narrow and I can almost see her rage pinpointing. ”Where is your father now?”
”Nowhere close.” I smile, feeling lighter than I ever have after telling that story. Because I know she would fight for me. And outside of my brothers, no one ever has before.
Not that I would let her do it.
I lean closer, smile holding. ”And it wouldn”t matter anyway, because I took the hammer out of your purse.”