Wilde Freak (Rock Stars on Tour, #4) Read online

  Wilde Freak

  Rock Stars on Tour, Volume 4

  Candy J Starr

  Published by Candy J Starr, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  WILDE FREAK

  First edition. June 21, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Candy J Starr.

  ISBN: 978-1386007685

  Written by Candy J Starr.

  Also by Candy J Starr

  Access All Areas

  Too Many Rock Stars: Violet's Story

  Rock Star Returns: Carlie's Story

  The Trouble with Rock Stars: Jackson's Story

  Rock Revenge: Alex's Story

  Art and Soul

  Seduction Game

  Bad Boy Rock Star

  Bad Boy Rock Star

  Bad Boy vs Millionaire

  Bad Boy Redemption

  Angie: A Short Story from the Bad Boy Rock Star Series

  Fallen Star

  Rock You

  Cry for You

  Be With You

  Bad for You

  There for You

  Fallen Star Series

  Rock Savage

  Come Back

  Come Closer

  Come Clean

  Rock Stars on Tour

  Guitar Freak

  Sex Freak

  Hard Freak

  Wilde Freak

  Snatched

  Snatched - Part 1

  Snatched - Part 2

  Snatched - Part 3

  Snatched - Part 4

  Snatched - Part 5

  Snatched

  Standalone

  Hands Off!

  Watch for more at Candy J Starr’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Candy J Starr

  Chapter 1: Matty

  Chapter 2: Matty

  Chapter 3: Matty

  Chapter 4: Matty

  Chapter 5: Matty

  Chapter 6: Matty

  Chapter 7: Matty

  Chapter 8: Matty

  Chapter 9: Matty

  Chapter 10: Fiona

  Chapter 11: Matty

  Chapter 12: Fiona

  Chapter 13: Matty

  Chapter 14: Fiona

  Chapter 15: Matty

  Chapter 16: Fiona

  Chapter 17: Matty

  Chapter 18: Fiona

  Chapter 19: Matty

  Chapter 20: Matty

  Chapter 21: Fiona

  Chapter 22: Matty

  Chapter 23: Fiona

  Chapter 24: Fiona

  Chapter 25: Matty

  Chapter 26: Matty

  Chapter 27: Fiona

  Chapter 28: Matty

  Chapter 29: Matty

  Chapter 30: Matty

  Chapter 31: Fiona

  Chapter 32: Fiona

  Chapter 33: Matty

  Chapter 34: Fiona

  Chapter 35: Fiona

  Further Reading: Come Back

  Chapter 1: Matty

  “SHIT, LOOK AT THE TIME,” I said.

  Fiona and I had been so entranced by sightseeing in Paris, that I’d totally lost track. It was our last day here on the tour before we moved on, and we both had lists a mile long of things we wanted to see. We’d been to art galleries and to museums and all around, but it still seemed we’d hardly make a dent in that list. I guessed that meant we’d have to come back to Paris some other time.

  “We’re not going to make it to the hotel in time,” Fiona said. “Maybe you should meet them at the arena.”

  I considered that for a moment. All my gear was at the arena, but I wanted to get changed. Going onstage in casual sightseeing clothes wouldn’t cut it. These khaki shorts definitely didn’t say rocker.

  “We’ll grab a cab,” I said. “We’ll be cutting it fine, but that’s going to be the fastest way back to the hotel.”

  “I can cab it back to the hotel and grab what you need,” Fiona said. “That might be the best option.”

  She was right, of course, but I wanted to enjoy every last minute of our time together in Paris. It was only a cab ride, but it’d be the two of us alone in the back of that cab, riding through one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

  I jumped out onto the road and had no trouble flagging down a cab. It’d take thirty minutes to get to the hotel, at the most. I’d have time to grab a change of clothes and meet the others to go to the arena.

  “We’re in a hurry,” I told the driver. “There’s an extra fifty in it if you make good time.”

  I wasn’t sure if he understood English, but he nodded and shot out into traffic. The guy definitely understood money.

  I put my arm around Fiona and pulled her close to me. She rested her head on my shoulder. Then I got out my phone and went through the pictures we’d taken during the day.

  “This one is great,” I said, holding up a shot of her in front of the Eiffel Tower. “I might make it my phone background.”

  She took my phone and zoomed the photo. “Erk, no. I look terrible. Delete it.”

  She said that about every photo. Not just the photos I took, but professional modeling shoots too. She could never see her beauty.

  “You look gorgeous,” I said. I looked at the photo again. Everything about her in that photo made my heart buzz. The way the wind blew her hair across her face, the crinkles around her eyes as she laughed, the way she leaned forward as though something slightly off-camera held her interest. I’d seen a million of her modeling shoots, but she always looked unapproachable and distant in them. I much preferred my snapshot with her looking real.

  The city sped by. The way this guy drove, I’d get the hotel with time to spare. He cut down a narrow back street, totally avoiding a jammed intersection.

  Fiona kept staring at the photo. “My face looks a bit blotchy, and that angle makes my shoulders look broad.”

  I laughed. “It’s a snapshot, not a professional shoot. You look like you’re having fun, and that’s what I want to remember. I love the way you laugh.”

  “I have wrinkles. Look at them.” She slumped back against the seat. “My modeling days are over.”

  “I thought they were over anyway.”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to go back to it, but still, it’d be nice to have the option if ever I needed to.”

  My chest tightened. I was sure she meant nothing by it, but saying she wanted the option seemed like she wanted a backup plan in case things didn’t work out between us. That could just be my paranoia, though. Things between us had been perfect, and they’d keep being perfect if I had anything to do with it.

  “I’ll keep the photo,” I said. “And in ten years’ time, I’ll show it to you again. See what you think then.”

  She smiled. “I’ll think the same. You could at least put a filter on it.”

  “Nope. This is our life, plain and unfiltered.”

  I grabbed the seat in front of me as the cab driver took a sharp turn.

  “I guess you’re right,” Fiona said. “I’ve spent so much of my life needing to be perfect, then having that perfection airbrushed and Photoshopped. I can’t even remember what I really look like.”

  I pulled her tighter. “You look fantastic, no matter what,” I told her. “You look fantastic first thing in the morning, and you look fantastic fresh out the shower. Even when you drool in your sleep, you look fantastic. Because being you is what fantastic is about.”

  She smiled, for a second, then that smile turned into a scowl. “I do not drool in
my sleep. That’s lies.”

  “Oh, yeah, you do.”

  She slapped my arm. “You’re full of it, Matty. I look like an angel in my sleep, but you snore.”

  I glanced at her out the corner of my eye. “Yeah, and I probably fart too. I’m a disaster.”

  Fiona laughed. The sound of her laughter buzzed through me, making me wonder if we’d have time for a quickie when we got back to the hotel. It’d have to be a super-quickie, but this pulse of lust couldn’t be denied.

  Before I could answer her, the cab driver slammed on the brakes, hurling us forward. My head slammed against the back of the front seat, then I got hurled back as he came to a standstill.

  “What the hell?”

  I was about to make a crack about arriving alive being better than arriving fast when I realized he’d stopped in the middle of an intersection. A very busy intersection. Cars circled around us, blasting their horns.

  Why?

  I was about to ask when I saw the truck speeding towards us.

  I screamed, pumping my foot where the accelerator would be, as though somehow that would help.

  I threw my arms around Fiona, trying to protect her, wanting to hold her so tight that she’d be safe. But she panicked, screaming and trying to open her door. She couldn’t get out. We both scrambled, waiting for the cab to move, for this disaster to end.

  Then the truck hit the cab, and everything went black.

  Chapter 2: Matty

  I WOKE UP CONFUSED and disoriented. Machines beeped around me, and I had things in my arm. Where the hell was I?

  Someone spoke, but I couldn’t understand a word they said.

  French? I was in Paris.

  I tried sitting up. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, then screamed out as pain shot down my side.

  I’d been in a crash, and I was in hospital. I understood that much. The machines, the hard bed, the smell: it all made sense. My head swam but I needed to get out of there. I had a concert to play. If I didn’t get to the hotel soon, Damo would be livid.

  I tried sitting up and almost screamed out again.

  Then it hit me that something much more important was at stake. I searched the room for Fiona, but I was alone.

  “Fiona?” I asked, hoping someone here could speak English. It hurt my throat just to say that single word.

  The pain of her not being here made the physical pain seem like nothing. I scrambled to get up, ignoring the pangs shooting down my side. Where was she? I needed to make sure she was okay.

  A nurse came over and put her hand on my shoulder. “You need to get back into bed,” she told me.

  Getting back into bed was the least of my worries. I pushed her hand away, but I could barely shake her off. How weak was I?

  “Fiona? Where is she?” That hardly sounded like my voice. I wanted to be strong, but my voice came out like a crying child’s.

  “The woman who was with you?” the nurse asked.

  I nodded, afraid to speak again. The nurse didn’t answer.

  Why didn’t she answer? I didn’t want to think the worst, but someone had to tell me something.

  “Tell me,” I said, trying to keep calm. I had to stay calm, otherwise panic would consume me.

  “She’s in the operating theater,” the nurse said.

  I inhaled. She was alive. That was good. That was really good. But the operating theater—that told me nothing, really.

  I’d get out of this bed, no matter what. As the nurse walked away, I grabbed the hand rail and heaved myself forward. The swimming in my head got worse, but I ignored it. I could sit up. I could swing my legs over the side of the bed. Sure, it hurt, so I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. I slid down and put my feet on the floor.

  That was it. Almost there.

  Then I put my weight on my feet, and the world spun around me. I couldn’t hold my own weight. I reached out for something to grab, but there was only the curtain. That gave me no support at all, and I sank to the floor.

  Everything went black again.

  After I woke the second time, the first thing I did was try to get out of bed. I’d get out of this room and find Fiona. I had to see her no matter what.

  The nurse came running over. A different nurse, this one with a cheeky grin. Her name badge said Mary.

  “Sorry,” Nurse Mary said. “You have to stay in bed.”

  “But my girlfriend. I need to see her. Is she okay?”

  Memories of the crash came back to me. The truck had struck Fiona’s side of the cab. She’d have suffered much more from the impact than I had. I put my hands to my face.

  Nurse Mary tsked. “They’re operating at the moment. Even if you could get out of bed, you wouldn’t be able to go to her.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  She picked up a chart and wrote on it. “I can’t promise you anything, but she’s getting the best medical care. The hospital spoke to someone from your tour, and they said to spare no expense.”

  I nodded. Thank goodness for that. I didn’t want to know about her medical care, though. I wanted to know if she’d be okay. This lack of answers frustrated the hell out of me.

  “When will you know?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. As soon as we know anything, though, we’ll tell you. Meanwhile, try to rest. You’ve got a nasty bump on your head and a lot of bruising.”

  “I’m fine,” I told her.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Is that your professional medical opinion?”

  “Ah, no, but I feel fine. I’m sure getting out of bed won’t kill me.”

  Nurse Mary poured a cup of water and handed it to me. I gulped it down, not realizing how dry my throat was until the water hit it. Before I could argue any more, Damo walked in.

  The nurse gasped. I was sure Damo had the kind of presence that made women gasp even if they didn’t know who he was, but that nurse knew. She went all starry-eyed staring at him. Then she straightened up her uniform and gave him a wide grin.

  Damo ignored her and walked straight to my bedside. “You’re awake. That’s a good thing,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t you be at the arena?” I asked.

  “I’m on my way, but I wanted to check on things here first.”

  “Sorry about this,” I said. “I’ve screwed up the tour.”

  “Don’t worry about the tour. We can go on tonight without you. The shows in Barcelona, too. Just concentrate on getting better.” He grinned. “I might be a slave driver, but I’m not about to force a man out of his hospital bed to go onstage.”

  Nurse Mary hovered at my bedside. I tried to smile. I didn’t want to look weak in front of Damo, but how tough can you look in a hospital bed?

  “They won’t tell me much about Fiona,” I said. I stared down at my hands and tried to stay unemotional.

  “I don’t think they know much,” Damo said. “She got hurt bad. It’s going to be tough.”

  It was damn awkward, being in bed like this, in one of those lousy hospital gowns. I didn’t really have much else to say to Damo beyond that. Being alone was best for now.

  There was one thing I had to ask him. “Can you keep this out of the press?” I asked. “Not so much about me, but Fiona. I’m not sure she’d want people knowing.”

  Damo nodded. “I’ll do my best. Obviously, it’s going to be noticeable that you’re not playing, and people will ask questions, but I won’t mention her name. It’s been pretty low-key that she was with you on tour from the start, so hopefully no one will make the connection. Anyway, I’ll go now and let you rest. Everyone sends their best wishes.”

  He stood up, looking uncomfortable. Hospitals were like that.

  “Don’t worry about the shows,” he said. “Getting better has to be your main focus. I’ll call in tomorrow before we leave town.”

  I nodded. It wasn’t the shows I was worried about. It was Fiona.

  Damo left.

  I preferred being alone. With so many emotions floo
ding through me, I didn’t want anyone around in case I broke down. I sure as hell didn’t want to cry in front of Damo.

  How was I supposed to rest when Fiona’s life hung in the balance? She couldn’t be taken from me. Not now. From the first moment I’d set eyes on her, I’d known she was the only woman I’d ever love. I’d fought so hard to be with her. Then, when we’d finally gotten together, this happened. We’d had a few months of perfect happiness, and I’d imagined that happiness stretching on forever.

  If Fiona didn’t make it, I wasn’t sure I wanted to, either. She’d been the focus of my life for as long as I could remember, and I couldn’t imagine existing with her gone.

  But she would come through this. I had to believe that. She was a fighter, tough as nails. She’d survived so much already.

  I turned to face the wall. This had been my fault. I’d been the one to insist on getting a cab back to the hotel. I’d told the driver to speed up. If I’d done as she’d suggested and gone straight to the arena, she’d be fine now.

  Instead, I might have destroyed everything. If she didn’t survive, it’d be my fault, the same as if I’d killed her with my bare hands. That wasn’t something I could live with.

  Chapter 3: Matty

  NOTHING IN MY LIFE had ever been as hard as waiting for word about Fiona. Every footstep in the hallway could be someone bringing news. Every voice. I tried to distract myself, but how do you distract yourself when the one you love is hanging between life and death?

  A doctor came in and said I could have the drip removed from my arm. That was something, at least. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been, and I could sit up without getting woozy. Being more lucid, though, just made it harder not to worry.

  I rang the bell. I needed an update.

  “No news yet,” the nurse said. “We’ll let you know as soon as we hear.”

  But what if they didn’t? They might get busy and forget about me.

  “I need to know the very instant,” I said.