Bad Boy Redemption (Bad Boy Rock Star #3) Read online

  When they left, I didn’t want to talk or do anything. I curled into Jack’s arms and he stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

  Chapter 20

  After being so supportive, I didn’t see much of Jack for the next few days. He didn’t even have that much to do at the recording studio. The session was almost over. Maybe he hung out with Tucker while the others recorded.

  I had things I should have been doing. It was almost exam time, and I needed to study. I needed to get across the publicity and plans for the album launch too. I’d had a meeting planned with the recording company, but I’d put it off because my brain wasn’t up to the task of dealing with it. I couldn’t handle much at all.

  “Go to bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jack had said after the cops left.

  “It’s okay. I won’t sleep anyway,” I’d replied.

  He lingered for a minute. I’d really wanted him to put his arms around me and hold me until it stopped hurting, but I couldn’t ask. If you have to ask, it means nothing. It’d be an embrace out of obligation and there was no comfort in that.

  He hesitated and I turned my face to him, but the connection seemed to get lost somewhere in mid-air.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Guess I’ll go to bed then.”

  That night, I heard him again, the tormented cries and the banging. I wanted to go to him but I could do nothing, and I had nothing in me to give.

  I turned the TV up louder to drown out the noise.

  The next day he stumbled out of bed, with black circles around his eyes. I hadn’t even gotten to sleep yet. I didn’t talk. I just waited for him to leave the house so I could get some rest.

  We tiptoed around each other, not really talking.

  Jack stopped offering to sleep on the couch. I built a cocoon around myself. I stopped sleeping and eating.

  Angie had tried to call but I ignored her calls until my phone battery went flat and I couldn’t even be bothered putting it on the charger. I didn’t get dressed and I didn’t shower. That all seemed like too much work. I didn’t want to see people or leave the house. I just stayed on the couch, watching DVDs and trying to forget everything that had happened. Maybe everything would go away if I ignored it. Maybe I could run away, move to another country and avoid the shit storm I knew would be coming.

  Instead, I watched dramas. That way I could worry about problems like demonic possession and apocalypses, and other things that seemed much less burdensome than my life.

  Mostly, I wallowed. Why was this happening to me? I’d be ruined for life once this got known. I’d be hounded by the press and the world would know my shame. It’d been bad enough when people thought Dad was involved in dodgy business dealings; this would be a million times worse.

  I pulled the blanket up around me and wondered if I could stay snuggled into my couch-cave forever. It was safe here, and I didn’t have to deal with anything more difficult than which drama I’d watch.

  That went on for three days.

  Then Jack came home from the recording studio with Angie and Eric.

  “Hannah, you’ve got to get off this couch and shower,” Angie said. “You are starting to stink.”

  “Later. Right now I have to make sure that Sam and Dean close the gates of hell.”

  The couch was warm and nice. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to turn off the TV.

  “She’s not lying,” said Eric. “You’re getting foul.”

  “Later...”

  Angie glared at me. I tried to ignore her but she put her face between me and the TV so her glaring could not be ignored.

  “You aren’t being very supportive.”

  “Well, Hannah, I’d give you a nice, big, supportive hug, but I don’t want to get close to you on account of you STINK! You have to start acting like a human being, not a couch-dwelling sloth. I know you’ve had a big shock, but life goes on.”

  So Jack must’ve told them. It wasn’t his secret to tell. That made me pissy with him. I looked to Eric for support. Eric was always the sweet one. He wouldn’t force me to get off the couch.

  “She’s right, Hannah.”

  Then Angie snatched the remote control from me and turned off the TV. I ended up getting up and going into the bathroom, just to stop her nagging me. If I did what she wanted, she might give me the remote back and then leave.

  I stepped into the shower, and I hated to admit it, but the warm water flowing over my body—well, it hardly washed all my cares away but it did make me feel more human. I hadn’t taken any clean clothes into the bathroom with me, and when I picked up the pyjamas I’d lived in for the past three days, they did stink.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Hannah, I’ve got you some clean clothes,” Angie said. “Can you open the door?”

  I opened the door a crack and took the clothes from her. Angie always thought of these things. That’s what made her awesome, even if she did nag me to death.

  “Thanks.”

  When I got out of the shower, they’d gotten pizza. The smell made me feel sick. Jack was nowhere around.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” Angie asked me.

  I couldn’t even remember. I’d not felt like food for a while. I had no need to eat much, and I definitely didn’t want pizza. But then again, I had some to stop her from nagging me. I picked at the pizza slice, not really sure if I wanted to swallow it.

  “You can’t sit around moping,” Angie said. “That’s not at all like you, Hannah.”

  I took a piece of salami from the pizza and put it in my mouth. I didn’t want to say what I was thinking. That it didn’t matter what I did in this life, no matter how hard I worked or how much I tried, because my father would destroy it all anyway. I’d be known forever as the daughter of a sex trafficker. He’d sunk about as low as a person could go. It hurt my insides to even think about the suffering he’d caused. They were girls just like me, but they had no lives. They were stuck in back-room brothels being raped, over and over again. Stuck in a living hell. And my father had put them there.

  No wonder Jack didn’t want to be around me. No wonder he’d been out of the house every opportunity he got. I was tainted.

  Tears welled in my eyes, prickling with their insistence. I went to the kitchen to hide my face.

  “Seriously, Hannah, you have to eat.” Angie hovered over me.

  “Leave it and I’ll have some later.”

  I saw the look between her and Eric. He’d definitely called her over to nag me. I wondered if he even wanted me here, in his house. Maybe I should move out and go somewhere. I didn’t even know where. Even if I took Dad’s money from his account, I couldn’t spend it. I couldn’t use that money that had come from such a dirty place.

  Maybe I could change my name, change my identity and go on the run. Then I realised something. It wasn’t just my father that was involved in this. It was Jack’s father too. Of course, it wasn’t the same, since Jack didn’t exactly know that Frank was his father, and the press would never find out either. Not unless his mum told them.

  It wasn’t like Jack had a relationship with his father. He didn’t have years of memories of happy times that all had now turned sour. I’d never be able to think of those times again without my belly twisting. This would never go away. Ever. Even if Dad wasn’t caught or if he got off the charges, he’d still be that person.

  Once, I’d have fought like a wildcat trying to clear his name. Back then, Dad was everything to me. I’d thought he could do no wrong. But I had no trouble believing it now. He’d tried to rob me; he’d tried to marry me off to protect himself. He’d not even tried to help me out. All I’d gotten was selfishness. It made me doubt everything I knew: the private schools, the fancy clothes, the parties he’d thrown for me—maybe it had all just been for him, really. Like fattening up a pig to take to market. I was the pig and all the pretty things had been to fatten me up, to get him respectability and to get me married off.

  All I had were the
things I’d earned myself through my own hard work. These were things I could rely on. It’d be all my own work from now on.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked when he came back downstairs.

  I hoped he’d never find out about Frank. He’d never have to worry that his blood was tainted with something evil.

  I nodded. I was as okay as I’d ever be. I sat back down and finished eating my slice of pizza. It tasted like cardboard and I could barely swallow it, but it was better to eat something and stop everyone worrying about me than not eating at all.

  “The guys from the record company called me today,” Jack said. “They said you cancelled the meeting with them and haven’t rescheduled. You haven’t even returned their calls. You know they want to rush the release of the CD, right? All the publicity and the launch party… Hannah, if it’s getting too much for you, you should tell us now. We can get someone else to take over the management role until you feel better.”

  That didn’t make me feel better. Was Jack just being nice because he was worried about his career?

  “I’ve managed so far, haven’t I? Despite everything, I’ve always done the right thing as manager.” I crossed my arms.

  “Yeah, yeah, I just mean, you might need some time off. It’s tough on you—”

  “No. I can do it. I’ll ring the record company tomorrow.”

  If I lost the band, I’d lose everything. Back when we’d discussed the business with my dad, they’d all agreed to keep me on as manager, despite the bad publicity. Maybe now the circumstances had changed, it no longer seemed like a good idea.

  I also wondered what to do about the money. I hadn’t gotten back to Dad. I hadn’t even been online to check my messages for the past few days. I grabbed my laptop out of my bag. There were three messages from him, each getting more frantic about the cash. There were a heap of other emails that I needed to deal with too. I’d missed the deadline on one of my assignments, and I had a few more things that needed to be handed in pretty soon. At least Angie had got me out of this funk enough to focus on getting on with life. Even if I had to force myself, I had things that needed to be done.

  Chapter 21

  I’d organised a meeting with the record company and actually got dressed in real clothes, and put on makeup. I didn’t want to leave the house, but I had to. I wanted to prove I was still capable of being a manager.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” I asked Jack.

  “You don’t need me, and I want to sit in on the mastering sessions with Tucker.”

  I still didn’t know what was happening with Jack. Our sex life had dwindled to nothing. It was like all the fires had been put out. We avoided touching each other. Both our lives were twisted up into weird shapes.

  “Okay, but don’t blame me if I commit you to some naked photo shoots or stuff like that. You are giving me the negotiating power.”

  He lifted his shirt, flashing his abs.

  “Do you think any magazine in this world could handle this hotness? It’ll make their pages combust.”

  For the first time in a long time, we both grinned. I really wanted to run my hands down those abs. Maybe those fires weren’t out at all. Some life stirred in me, wanting him.

  “You really think you’re such hot shit? Remember that first video we filmed? How you were such a sooky bitch because you had to wear a costume and a bit of make-up?”

  “Hey, I wasn’t being a bitch about that. I just didn’t feel the look was right for band. And that was the night you pool-sharked me.”

  He grinned, shaking his head. Those were fun times. I’d forgotten that night, playing pool in a dive bar and having to flee from a couple of thugs.

  I got to the meeting and found out I’d mainly be dealing with Bruce. He was one of the guys I liked best at the company. He’d been around for a long time, and really loved music. That made him easier to deal with than some of the other knobs there. They had a huge promotional campaign mapped out, including a release day gig.

  “It’s in Central Square in the middle of the city. We need to move fast on this though. We want to get all the hype. I think we should promote it as a ‘secret gig’, getting it working for us that way. It’s not much notice but they only need to play one or two songs.”

  I totally could see what he was saying.

  “The band will need to do some signings too. We have a deal with one of our distributors. I’ll print you off a list and you can look through it.”

  He put down his pen and looked serious.

  “There is a real possibility that this is going to hit it out of the ballpark. You need to realise that and you need to prepare them for it. There will be reporters buzzing around who’ll know no limits. Prepare the guys for any questions they might get asked, and how to deal with the situation. We’ll organise a time for them to come in and sit with our PR people. We need to work out all the potential questions they’ll be asked and how they’ll respond. We don’t want any surprises.”

  He didn’t need to tell me about the press. I really hoped they didn’t go after Eric and Jack like that. Not that they would. The band would be the media darlings, not hunted down like I’d been. They’d be proper celebrities. And I couldn’t imagine that Eric had much he’d want to hide—a happy family life and a squeaky-clean background. Jack, on the other hand…

  Bruce cracked his knuckles. “You think you can handle this?”

  “Of course. I can handle it.”

  So long as the press didn’t find out about Dad before the album launch, we’d be fine. The last thing we needed was a scandal darkening the moment when Storm should be shining brightest.

  I left the meeting feeling more capable than I had for a while. I’d one thing crossed off my list.

  I stopped for a coffee on the way home and made a list of all things that needed to be done for the band, and all the work I needed to do before the end of semester, then started worked on my uni assignments. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to get all that studying out of the way. I didn’t need it, other than to have my piece of paper saying I’d graduated. Even though I’d gotten behind, I could rush through this essay and get it handed in straight away.

  I got caught up in a world of study, not even noticing my coffee had gone cold. I just hammered out the words, getting them flowing.

  Finally, I paused, almost done.

  “Another coffee, love?” the waiter asked.

  I nodded, then decided to check out the cake fridge. I deserved something sweet after the day’s effort. But did I want chocolate mousse cake or the red velvet cupcakes?

  I saw someone familiar at the counter. I couldn’t place her, the way you don’t recognise someone when they are out of context. Maybe she worked at the supermarket near home, or she did something at the university?

  She turned to face me and I realised who she was.

  “Vera? Vera, how are you?”

  Vera had been one of the maids who’d worked for us. She’d looked after me for years. She’d really loved me and made a fuss over me, much more than the other staff. She looked like she’d aged a lot in the short time since then, and the hard lines on her face stopped me moving any closer.

  “Looks like you came out of things all squeaky-clean,” she said running her eyes over me. “Still wearing your fancy clothes and being looked after.”

  I was not wearing fancy clothes. I had on my one good suit that I’d needed to wear for the meeting. Why was she talking to me that way?

  “I’m not sure…”

  “It always works out for the likes of you, when I’m the one turfed out onto the street with two months’ wages owing.”

  “Excuse me?”

  When Dad left, I’d never thought about anyone else—the staff or his employees. I’d had so much to cope with myself just trying to survive. I’d assumed they’d been looked after.

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  People in the cafe stared at us until my chest tightened. I hoped
Vera would smile and let it go.

  “Fat lot you care. You always were a nasty, selfish brat. Leastways I don’t have to pretend to be nice to you any more.”

  I reeled from the shock. I could say so much to her but I didn’t want to explain myself, especially not there with half the cafe listening in. The angry expression I saw on her face made me wonder if it was worth even trying to say anything.

  Vera walked out and I went back to my table. I tried to steady myself and forget about her. Again, I got the blame.

  I finished off my assignment and emailed it in. I could drop by the recording studio and see how the mastering session was going. I could get a ride home with Jack and maybe we could grab dinner somewhere. That seemed like a perfect way to end the day and forget about this shit.

  I sent Angie a message to see if she’d invite Eric over. Jack and I could have the house to ourselves. We’d had too much trauma and stress lately. I missed him. I missed his body. I sure as hell missed the sex.

  I shivered in my seat, thinking about Jack’s body.

  My phone beeped. Angie already had plans with Eric. Perfect.

  I imagined whispering in Jack’s ear, telling him all the hot things I wanted to do to him. He wouldn’t be able to get out of there fast enough. I left the cafe and grabbed a cab. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Jack, to get him home where I could do all the things to him, to have his body next to mine again. Even though we’d been living in the same house, we’d been apart. We needed to work together and be a team. And nothing said team like hot sex.

  By the time I got to the studio, I couldn’t stand it. I was ready to walk in there and drag him out. I wasn’t even sure if we’d make it to the car before I wrapped my legs around him.

  When I walked into the studio, though, I couldn’t see him. Tucker was there with big headphones covering his ears, and I didn’t want to disturb him until he’d finished what he was doing. I leaned against the studio wall, thinking maybe Jack had gone to the toilet or something.

  Finally, Tucker turned around.