Bad Boy Redemption (Bad Boy Rock Star #3) Page 17

  “Are you going to sleep?” he said.

  “Soon,” I replied. If he’d wanted me to sleep, he could have worn something more than jocks to bed. Still I turned back so he could spoon me.

  He rubbed my arm.

  “I have to tell you something. I want to have treatment. My doctor thinks she can give me tablets to stop the terrors,” he said. The vulnerability in his voice surprised me.

  I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. “That would be good.”

  “But I’m scared, Hannah. I’ll lose my music. I won’t be able to create a thing…”

  I turned and stroked his hair. “You don’t know that.”

  “Would you still love me if I wasn’t a rock star?”

  I wanted to laugh but, in the soft light filtering into the room, I could see the seriousness in his eyes.

  “I’d rather a man I can wake up next to in the morning than a rock star.”

  He squeezed me tight. “I’d do it. For you. If you came back to me.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His arms tightened around my waist.

  “There are other things you could do. Remember when you asked me about going to university?” If he wanted to, I’d be there beside him. I’d support him. “But I don’t think you’ll lose your music. It might take a while, but you’ll find it again. You don’t need the anger and the pain. Your talent is much more than that.”

  I knew that Jack could continue playing with just a fraction of his talent. With his looks and charisma, he didn’t need it. But he’d never be happy with that. He’d never be satisfied if he couldn’t be the best.

  He kissed my head. “Is that your professional opinion?”

  I laughed. “Yes, it is. And, if you can’t sing any more, I can do it. I’ll take over as singer.”

  That made him laugh. More than I thought necessary.

  “I don’t think things will ever be that dire.”

  “I’m an awesome singer.” I punched him softly and he jerked away. I’d forgotten his injuries.

  “You hurt me. You hurt me after I fought to protect you.” He curled a strand of my hair around his finger.

  “Sorry. Do you want me to kiss it better?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  I bent to trail soft, butterfly kisses over his ribs, taking care to not press too hard on his injuries. I’d save the bites for another time. He ran his fingers through my hair. I’d missed this.

  “Did that help?” I asked, looking up at him.

  “My cock. My cock got really injured too. You need to kiss that better.”

  “No, it didn’t.” I tried not to laugh.

  “Hannah, I’m the man who got injured looking after you, and now you’re denying me cock kisses? You are a mean woman.”

  “You’re right.” I laughed.

  “Ha, I knew you’d say that one day.” He grinned. “Hannah said I’m right. I’ll remember this day forever.”

  “Make the most of it,” I told him, but I curled down and covered the length of his cock with soft kisses too. From the way it hardened with my touch, I doubted it was injured at all. I inched his jocks down until I had full access to all his man parts.

  Jack groaned, nice soft groans, not like those grunts of pain he’d made earlier. I ran my tongue along the length of him, teasing licks that flickered over his hardness. I’d missed this, too. Heat flooded through my body, and the familiar buzz of desire he always made me feel came back to me.

  He pulled me up beside him and his lips crushed into mine, urgent and needy. Then he pulled away, groaning.

  “I’m a broken man, Hannah. You’ll have to do all the work.” He smiled as he said it.

  “You’re just faking now, aren’t you?”

  “What? You accuse me of faking? Surely I deserve some reward.”

  I pushed him back against the bed and ran my hand down his body. “You don’t feel like a broken man to me. You feel completely whole.”

  I straddled him and pulled off the T-shirt he’d given me to sleep in.

  He ran his hands over my breasts. “I’ve missed these titties. Mmm, I love your titties, Hannah. From the first time I laid eyes on you, all I could think about was having these titties in my mouth.”

  “Can you stop saying the word ‘titties’?” My words came out in a gasp as he rolled my hard nipples in his fingers.

  He ran his hands down my body, pulling my knickers off and then running his hands back up my legs until his fingers pushed inside my wet slit.

  “I’ve missed this, too, Hannah. I’ve missed this wet pussy that seems to be the perfect fit for my cock. When I’m feeling better, I’m going to get my name tattooed on your pussy so that no other man can touch it. You’ll only be mine for the rest of your life.”

  As his fingers connected with my clit, I couldn’t reply. I just groaned and rocked against him.

  “You’re not talking, Hannah,” he said and rubbed me faster. “Why aren’t you talking?”

  But I could only gasp as his fingers did the magic flicking thing that made me shudder and groan, my pussy flooding with juice as he made me cum.

  “Record time. Your pussy loves me. It loves all the things I can do to you. It’s been desperate for me to touch it.”

  I wanted to collapse against his chest but was scared to press myself against him and hurt him more. It felt strange, having to guard against his frailty and, even though he joked about it, I knew he was in a lot of pain. I leaned forward, getting a condom from the drawer beside the bed.

  “Oh yeah, party time.”

  “Do you think your fans would still love you if they knew what a huge dork you were in bed?” I asked. I opened the wrapper and smoothed the rubber over his cock.

  “Yes, yes I do. They would love me more, just like you do, Hannah.

  I rubbed myself against his cock without taking it in me.

  “Do I love you? Is that what you think?”

  “Yes. You are never going to leave me again, right?”

  “Enough of the sappy talk,” I said. I rubbed myself up and down his penis.

  “Please…” he whimpered. But I wasn’t ready to let him enter me yet. I wanted to tease him a while longer.

  “Fuck me before I explode,” he begged.

  I hovered over his cock, moving gently, but pulling away every time he tried to thrust. Then slowly, inch-by-inch, I lowered myself onto him until he was deep inside me. I squeezed my muscles hard around his cock, drawing him even deeper into me.

  “Do you like that?” I asked. He nodded. I couldn’t help myself. I rode him hard. I loved the feeling of his cock ramming hard inside me. I squeezed his dick while my hips ground into him, harder and faster.

  He shuddered, clutching at my hips and trying to control my thrusts. He could never fully let me take control. But he had no hope of holding me back.

  He panted and moaned and thrust so hard I almost tumbled off him. Then he spasmed into orgasm.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t damaged him.

  “I think I’ll survive,” he replied and grinned at me. “Now, I think you really need to sleep.”

  “Shit, Angie was making me a cake. I should have called her.

  Jack wrapped his arm around me. “Shhh, I’m sure she’ll have left you some.”

  Chapter 33

  Jack’s idea was bold. I’d curled up into a foetal position when he first told me, unable to deal with even the thought of it. He wanted me to throw myself into the lion’s den, to put myself on public display.

  “It’ll be tough, but it’s the best way to do it,” he said. “You need to be on the offensive, not the defensive. Shit is going to happen, and you need to control it.”

  I pulled the blanket over my head. He was right, but I needed time to think about this.

  Eventually, I got out of bed. I got dressed. I didn’t mention the idea again but it didn’t leave my head.

  “I’d have to discuss it with the cops. I don’t know how m
uch I’d be allowed to say. Not with Dad going on trial and all that.”

  Jack nodded. “That Jet guy, he’d be okay with it. I think he wants a piece of me.”

  When I’d met with Jet and Daniel, they’d been angry that I’d withheld information from them. Well, Jet especially had been angry. We’d had to go through some gruelling interviews. Information that I thought was totally irrelevant and going back a year ago had to be repeated over and over.

  “You were bloody stupid to even try to blackmail that man,” Jet said. “He’s a dangerous criminal. If that old lady hadn’t called the cops, you’d be dead now. I hope you appreciate that.”

  It made me damn happy that I’d patiently listened to all her medical complaints. Funny that even though Jack had tried to rescue me, it was old Beryl who’d actually done the saving.

  Then I’d had to lure Dad to a place where they could get him. In return, they’d forget about the whole withholding thing.

  “And you’ll get Jack off the assault charges?” I tried to bargain.

  “No can do,” Jet replied. “Different jurisdiction. Different case. But I don’t think any of his legal mates are going to be trying to win favours from him at the moment.”

  I hoped he was right otherwise we’d have gone through that nightmare for nothing.

  Frank had been busted at the airport trying to flee the country. He thought he’d be able to get on a plane before they got their shit together to track him, but he’d thought wrong.

  Jet was right. I’d seen how Frank acted. He had no friends.

  Then they got Dad. They’d told me he was back in the country. I knew he could have visitors, but I had no desire to see him. He could rot in jail for all I cared.

  The media would be sure to find out, and this was going to be one of those cases that would drag on for years. My plan had been to hide away, or maybe just lay low until it finished. Maybe for a few years or so. I did NOT want that kind of attention. That’s why Jack’s suggestion brought me out in a cold sweat.

  I took off for a walk, following the path along the river until the city buildings had given way to bushland. I walked until every muscle in my body hurt, and I could walk no further. I had so many thoughts in my brain and I needed to organise them. I also had to search deep inside myself for the guts I needed to pull this off.

  I couldn’t really hide from this. Not forever. Even if I tried, someone would find out one day. I’d always freak out that someone would expose me.

  When I got home, I told Jack I’d do it. It wasn’t just me; it was him. I needed to do this for both of us. I needed to leave my father behind so I could concentrate on our relationship.

  “It’s not even your idea,” I told him.

  “Yes it is. Remember, I told you what you should do.”

  “No it isn’t. Spud suggested it right back at the beginning when we found out Dad was being extradited.”

  Chapter 34

  “I feel like an idiot,” said Jack.

  He’d put on the suit I’d picked out for him and, since he’d refused to get a haircut, I’d slicked back his hair so make it look less unruly. I’d have definitely said he didn’t look like an idiot. I wanted to slide my hands inside that suit jacket and pull him close to me and then slowly unbutton that shirt. Maybe even rip the buttons off with my teeth.

  I wouldn’t like to see this polished up version of Jack Colt every day but he’d definitely be fun to play with when we didn’t have something as important as a court case to deal with. Maybe, when we got home…

  “You’ll do,” I said with a smile. “At least they aren’t going to arrest you for fashion crimes.”

  Jack’s arm moved. I knew he always ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous and I grabbed it to stop him.

  “Do not touch your hair. It’ll stick up like a cockatoo in court if you do that and no one will take what you say seriously. Don’t fidget on the stand. Don’t touch your face. Keep your hand in your lap and your head up so you seem confident and trustworthy.”

  Jack screwed up his face. I think I’d already told him that a few times.

  Eric, Angie and Eric-Mama came with us to the courthouse.

  “We have to show he has good, solid people behind him,” Eric-Mama said. “We don’t want them thinking Jack is a riff-raff punk.”

  Angie and I exchanged a grin.

  “You really think I look okay.”

  “Yes.”

  A uniformed guard took Jack into a different room when we got to the courthouse. A heap of people filled the corridor, some of them pacing, some standing around in groups. They hadn’t been able to tell us how long it’d be before Jack went into court but luckily, his case came up before they adjourned for lunch.

  The lawyer had told us that the best possible outcome would be if Jack was found guilty without a conviction. That would mean he didn’t have a criminal record and, most importantly, he’d still be able to travel overseas. It was only a distant dream at the moment but maybe, one day, the band would be able to go on a world tour.

  The biggest obstacle to that was he’d have to prove Jack’s good character in court. Which was hard when his bad behaviour at the concert had been in the press.

  “Worst case scenario is that he’ll get a good behaviour bond. It will mean a record but no jail time. Since it’s a first offence, jail is very unlikely.”

  I hoped he was right about that. Luckily, Bruce from the record label had let things slide. If Jack had two convictions from the same day, there’d be no leniency.

  In my opinion, it’d all come down to the amount of clout Frank still had with his judge mates. No one said that, of course. They would never admit that their system wasn’t fair and equitable, but everyone knew better than that.

  Frank was the only witness for the prosecution and, as soon as he began his statement, I had hope for Jack. Frank’s testimony was full of holes. Anyone could tell he was leaving out vital information. I knew it was the stuff about Jack being his son but, to anyone else, it sounded like he was very unsure of the details.

  Even better, I watched the way the judge looked at Frank. His nostrils had a slight flare and his lips tightened. There was definitely no love between them. Frank had removed himself pretty smoothly from my father’s path when he’d thought Dad was no longer of use to him and now it seemed like karma had something to say about that.

  Since Jack pleaded guilty, the case didn’t take long. Our lawyer talked about Jack’s distress over Spud’s death and the steps he’d taken in getting help since then. The prosecution lawyer, on the other hand, sounded like he just wanted to get out of there and have his lunch.

  As we waited for the judge to give the conviction, Angie grabbed hold of one of my hands. Eric-Mama grabbed my other hand. The four of us sat in a row, not breathing. Jack’s future was held in this man’s words.

  When the judge said he was guilty without a conviction, I turned to Angie for confirmation that I’d heard right. Then I looked over at Jack. He had his head down but I knew he had a big grin on his face.

  It took a while for Jack’s paperwork to be processed but finally he joined us.

  “So, no big house for you,” said Angie. “I’d have totally made you a cake with a file in it too. And think of the awesome prison songs you could’ve written. Like Johnny Cash. It’s almost disappointing.”

  “Stop teasing him,” Eric-Mama said. “It’s not a funny matter. Jail is serious.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. My hand reached out for Jack’s and held it tight.

  “Jack, you are a lucky boy. From now on, when you get angry you should not punch people. You should get a punching bag and hit that. That’s what I do.”

  I thought she was joking until I saw Eric’s face.

  -o-

  Finally, I found the guys a place for their gig. It was a bit out of town in a room that only held about 50 people but it was a place to play. Maybe it’d be the last gig they’d ever play and there were peop
le out there who wanted to see it. Angie told me the fans were desperately hoping for this chance.

  Well, some of them were. She wouldn’t let me look at any social media for the band and kept the guys away from it.

  “You don’t need other people’s negativity,” she’d said.

  Even if only ten people showed up, we wanted to make sure those ten people had the night of their life.

  -o-

  I put on another layer of lipstick. I wanted to look professional and together. Even though I felt like jelly inside, I hoped I could come across as confident and relaxed.

  “You look fine,” Jack said. “You always do.”

  I smiled at him. It made me so happy to have him here to support me. I clutched his hand in mine, unable to let go. He’s said he’d stand beside me, and I knew he would.

  “Okay, it’s time,” the man said.

  I walked into the room to a flash of lights. Reporters, so many more of them than I expected, filled the space. I’d hired a publicist to handle this mess, and they’d organised the press conference. I guess everyone wanted to know the story of the sex trafficker’s daughter.

  I took a deep breath and stood up tall. I’d done nothing wrong but their words could twist everything, making a lie of my life. I hated that they had that power. Still, all I could do was tell my story, honest and true. Hopefully that would get them on my side.

  I read the statement that I’d prepared. The publicist had helped me write it, but it was my own words and my own thoughts. I told them how I hadn’t known what my father had been doing, and how shocked I was when I found out. Not just shocked, but sick to my stomach.

  The flashes going off made me blink, but I tried to keep my focus. I had more to say. I remembered to look out at the reporters, to try to make eye contact. To pause and keep my tone even. This had to go well. I’d staked my future on this one shot.

  “I’ve found out that, before my father disappeared, he had signed quite a few of his assets into my name. After discovering how he’d made the money to acquire these assets, I want nothing more to do with them. The thought of money made by other people’s suffering is abhorrent to me.”