A Blue Tale Read online

Page 5


  “No, there is no we. I won’t live my life like that, I won’t live life second guessing someone that’s supposed to love me.” I said, still looking at the floor from behind my veil of hair.

  “Look at me.”

  I didn’t move one muscle.

  “Look at me, now!” he growled.

  “Why? Why do you have to continue to torture me, I don’t want to look at you. I just want you to leave.” I barely whispered.

  We both knew he could pull me back in, if he truly wanted me, he could easily wield his power over my heart, and squeeze until there was nothing left but dust.

  “Please look at me, damnit.”

  He wrapped his huge hand around my upper arm and smashed me against his body. My head instinctively looked up, into his face. It was covered with anger, and his eyes were the color of an abyss. But I wasn’t afraid of him, I knew he’d never hurt me physically, no matter what he’d done to my heart.

  “Let go of her!” I heard come from behind us, but it was muffled by the sound of blood pumping through my veins and echoing in my ears.

  Shaw’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, and a scowl spread across his face.

  “This is not your concern, Chastain, so I suggest you back the fuck up, and be on your way.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong Sutton, anything that involves Eli involves me.” Deacon snapped.

  Warmth spread through my core when the sound of his voice saying my name resonated through my ears. I tried to turn my head to look at him, but Shaw jerked me back.

  “Let her go, and get the hell outta here, man, you’re asking for trouble you do not want, I can promise you that.”

  “Well, well, looks like you got yourself a knight in shining armor, Elizabeth.” Shaw laughed, but it sounded off and pained.

  He didn’t release my arm; instead, he turned me around, pulling my back flat against his body. He splayed his hands across my stomach and pushed my ass into him.

  “Deacon, you need to cut your losses and move on. Elizabeth is mine, and I don’t share.”

  Deacon’s eyes moved to mine, and I saw them flare with disgust. The air around him grew thick and his hands clenched into fists. I could feel the anger pouring from both men, and I knew this wouldn’t end well if I didn’t do something to get their attention off each other and back on me…where it belonged. I jerked hard against Shaw’s arms and was able to break free, and moved to stand in between them.

  “Both of you, just stop!” I snapped. “I don’t belong to anyone, especially not you, Shaw - not anymore. We have a history, yes. But I don’t know about our future, and I need you to give me time to figure that out. So, please, just leave.”

  “Hell no, I’m not leaving you here with this piece of shit.” He pointed toward Deacon.

  “Shaw, I can take care of myself. Deacon and I are going to be working together, it’s fine.”

  “Bullshit, it’s not fine. You don’t have a clue what kind of shit this guy’s mixed up in, and if you did, you wouldn’t even be considering working with him.”

  “I’m a big girl, and I can make those judgments myself. So leave, please.”

  I tried to sound strong, but Shaw’s words had me questioning who Deacon really was. However, I also knew Shaw would say anything right now to get his way.

  Deacon grabbed my hand and pulled me swiftly behind him.

  “You’re making a mistake, sweetheart.” Shaw warned me.

  “I’ll take my chances.” I snapped before adding, “And stop fucking calling me that, I’m not your sweetheart.”

  “We’ll see, sweetheart, we’ll see.”

  Deacon and I stood in complete silence as Shaw turned and walked down the hall, disappearing toward the elevators.

  “What the fuck was that?” Deacon growled at me, like he was accusing me of causing this whole encounter when it was his presence that made everything turn bad. “Are you hurt?”

  The hard shell that had been building around me softened slightly at the first sign of him actually caring. His eyes and hands went immediately to my arm where Shaw had held onto me. The pads of his fingers smoothed up and down my sensitive flesh. I ignored the spark he ignited, jerking my arm away.

  “I’m fine, what are you doing here?” It came out sounding harsher than I meant because of those damn sparks, and I knew he’d heard it, too, when his eyebrows pulled together.

  My head screamed “Take it back, take it back!” because I wanted that frown gone from his face. Instead my mouth stayed closed, while I just stared at him.

  After what felt like forever, he shrugged. “Umm, I’m late. The other guys met with you, so I thought I should, too.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up, and I burst into laughter.

  “Yeah, I’d say you’re late, by like a week.”

  He laughed lightly along with me, and the sound made little fireworks explode in my tummy.

  “Well, what’d I miss?” He asked.

  “Everything.” I said with a smile then started toward my office as he followed closely behind. “I sent the contract with Duke, so if you’ll let him, he can walk you through it. The others have already signed, but they did so before consulting a lawyer—technically, they didn’t even read it. So maybe you should.”

  “Maybe.” He said, I couldn’t gauge his flat tone, and his facial expression wasn’t telling me anything.

  “Just read it.” I demanded.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Why won’t any of you read it? It won’t take that long, you could at least flip-“

  He stopped walking, and I stopped a couple steps later, turning to look back at him.

  “They had their reasons for not reading the damn thing, and I have mine.” He groaned. “I don’t give two shits what’s in the fucking contract, I just want to know your motives.”

  “My motives?” I asked, paranoid he was accusing me of something again.

  “Duke and I have been down this road before, obviously it hasn’t gone as well as planned in the past.”

  “Well, tell me what went wrong in the past? I’m sure we can avoid that now.”

  He barely waited until my last syllable was out, “I have zero interest in working with a money, power hungry, douche that wants to squeeze the life out of us and our music, then drop us like a bad habit. That shit is not what I’m about, I won’t fucking sign anything until I know that’s not you. Duke believes your motives are pure, I have to believe the same thing, or I’m not signing a damn thing.”

  His words had me taken aback for a couple seconds—not exactly what I was expecting him to say—and I was starting to understand why they’d had trouble getting signed in the past.

  “Well, I can guarantee I’m not in this for the money, you know who my dad was, so I’m assuming you can understand money is not my motive.” He nodded his head in agreement. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want to use your talent, and the other guys, to help build my clientele. I’m the new kid on the block. No matter what my last name is, I’ve got to prove myself. I think Unforgiven can help me while I’m helping you in return.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. You see a fast ticket to making a name for yourself, possibly outshining your dad. So you tighten the vise around us until you get everything you want, and then move on to the next band that’s sure to help prove your worth even more. You damn sure wouldn’t be the first.”

  His eyes drilled into me, waiting for the first sign of a crack in my armor.

  “Look, Deacon. I don’t really know what I can say that will make you believe my motives are pure.” I said as I started walking again and he joined in beside me. “Willow took me to see your band play because she knew I’d be drawn to your style; I was. I have no interest in musicians that follow the fads; I want real musicians that play for the love of music, period. Your show brought tears to my eyes; I felt the raw emotions behind every word, every note. That’s why I want to sign you without any further verification you’re trus
t worthy. If I’m willing to take that chance after one night, then I think you can to – I mean what do you have to lose, right?”

  The intensity of his stare increased my heart rate until all I could hear was the blood rushing through my ears. I didn’t have a fucking clue what to tell him, and I was afraid if he kept pushing me I’d pass out cold before I could give him an even half intelligible answer.

  Which was why I was overjoyed when he simply nodded his head.

  “Okay…well, umm, do you have any other questions for me?” I asked as I stopped in front of my desk and he moved to sit in the chair directly in front of me.

  “What is Shaw Sutton to you?”

  His eyes continued to pierce mine, and I was afraid he could read every secret I kept buried inside.

  “Not really the type of question I had in mind.”

  “Don’t play games, just answer the damn question.” He said, his voice once again becoming overly forceful and demanding.

  “How do you know him?” I asked.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I asked first.”

  “So, I asked second.” I said, raising my eyebrows back at him.

  “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  Our eyes were locked; his clear blue eyes burning a hole in my carefully constructed defenses. Each second that ticked by I could feel the bricks I’d built around myself loosening, weakening.

  He stood and took one step forward, putting him mere inches from me. One hand snaked up my waist while the other moved to my cheek, his thumb rubbing in small circles.

  “How could I not know who you were?” He whispered, so lightly I wouldn’t have heard if he weren’t so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “You look just like I remember, just like him.”

  My heart dropped, fearing he was another guitar player more interested in what my last name was than anything else about me.

  “You know, I saw you half-naked in that magazine. I thought I was a grown-ass man, but then I walked around with a hard-on for weeks thinking about some girl barely old enough to drive.” He shook his head and smiled. “I had it bad.”

  “Yeah, it got me lots of attention. Attention I never wanted.” I admitted breathlessly. “That was my mom’s last shot at fame, just at my expense. I hated every minute of it, and never posed for another photo shoot again.”

  “You looked damn good, Eli, but you were just a girl then. The woman before me is even better.”

  His gaze moved to my mouth and the clear blue of his eyes was replaced with storm clouds. My body screamed to feel his lips, but my heart and mind were fighting the pull. He slowly moved closer, inch by inch, until I could almost taste him – but he froze and released me.

  A small groan escaped from my throat as he turned his back to me. I’m not sure if it was a sound born more from relief, or frustration. My chest was heaving with quick, shallow breaths. On unsteady legs, I moved around to the back of my desk and fell into my chair. There it was again, the sexual charge I’d felt before – I was almost hoping I’d dreamed it.

  His back was still turned to me, but I could tell he was breathing heavily as his shoulders rose and fell rapidly. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair before releasing a low growl.

  “What the hell was that?” He said to himself.

  My phone started singing “A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep.” I fumbled for it and accidently hit the speakerphone.

  “Hey buttmunch, we moved practice up. We’re all at your house, where the hell are you?” Willow yelled. “Am I on speakerphone?”

  I scooped up the phone. “Sorry, I’m still at the office. Just go in; I’ll be there shortly.”

  I didn’t wait for her to respond. I just hung up and dropped my phone back to my desk.

  I opened my bottom desk drawer and pulled my purse out and began to fumble for my keys.

  “About the other night.” Deacon started.

  I looked up at him, and his eyes were sad and full of remorse. I didn’t want to hear him apologize for touching me, not even for thinking I was one of his whores. If he apologized, then he took away my right to feel what I felt that night - sensual and wanted, and I’d never let anyone take that away from me.

  “No, just stop. Don’t say it, there’s no need to apologize. I know you didn’t mean any harm, and honestly…” I floundered for the right words to try and take the sad look off his face. “Just don’t, okay?”

  He walked toward me, grabbing my arm and pulling me roughly against his body. I made a high-pitched shriek as all the air left my lungs. He smiled and touched my face again.

  “Oh, Princess. I wasn’t going to apologize. I’d never apologize for touching you because I don’t ever plan to stop. I was gonna let you know, we’ll pick up exactly where we left off…just as soon as you’re ready.”

  I didn’t know what to say to him, or if my mouth could even form words any longer, so I simply shook my head.

  “Don’t say no just yet, you’ll get there.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to control my racing heart. He trailed his nose from my forehead all the way down to the top of chin but never touched his lips to mine.

  Then he turned and left without ever looking back.

  Chapter Eight

  Eli Blue

  I pulled into the long driveway and saw the gate leading to my house already open, meaning Willow had listened to me—for once in her life—and had already started practice. I inhaled deeply and prepared my mental state for a night full of loud music and bitchy girls. The only upside was the music studio was separate from the house, so if they got too bad at least I could escape.

  I still lived in my dad’s house. It sat empty for years after his death while I was being shuffled around by my mother from modeling jobs, to press junkets, to charity events in her attempt to reclaim even an ounce of the fame she had with my dad. But once I was finally old enough to put my foot down and leave that overindulgent life behind, I immediately moved back to the only place I’d ever called home. I loved this house, and as long as I had any say, I’d never sleep a single night under another roof.

  I rubbed the tips of my cold fingers into my temples attempting to ward off the headache threatening to pound. Yesterday my life was small and simple—something I’d worked years to accomplish—and today things were already more complicated than I cared for. After Deacon left my office, I sat staring at the empty chair he’d left behind. His presence had filled the room and once he disappeared through the door I felt the toll his absence took, and there wasn’t a single thing I liked about how deeply I felt it.

  I was drawn to him, to his unapologetic arrogance that reminded me so much of my dad. He owned every part of himself, the good and the bad, and he wasn’t afraid of showing who he truly was. Deacon was the first person I’d met that seemed to have the same overwhelming charisma my dad had possessed. Shaw had a small touch buried deep within him, but nothing close to my dad—or Deacon.

  A loud scream pulled me from my thoughts, reminding me my dad’s studio was filled with highly volatile female rockers. I took one last cleansing breath, wishing I’d stopped for coffee on my way home, before finally climbing out of my car.

  I heard Erika’s voice booming louder than her drum set before I even opened the door. The Elle’s consisted of Willow on vocals, Mia on lead guitar, Steph on bass, and Erika on drums. They were each as dramatic as they were talented.

  Mia was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, with long black hair, perfect olive skin, and striking black eyes that seemed to burrow into your thoughts with one glance. She was born in South Korea, but spent her childhood in upstate New York. Everything about her was a perfect mix of eccentric. She might show up one day decked out in sexy goth gear and the next day dressed in an innocent Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Her looks and her voice, which perfectly covered the full range of octaves, could draw in a full testosterone-charged crowd; unfortunately, for those f
ellas, she was usually more interested in what the females in the crowd were doing.

  Erika was the newest member of the band, and I really hadn’t been able to spend much time getting to know her. When she was sitting behind her drum kit she was loud and demanding, but the minute she stepped away she became quiet and reserved, which actually worked in her favor dealing with three other highly opinionated musicians.

  Steph had been a friend of mine and Willow’s since as far back as I could remember. She had long, board-straight blonde hair that she always streaked with whatever color matched her mood – right now it was pink because she was in a “childlike state of mind.” Besides rock music, she lived for baking. She spent so much time decorating cookies the smell of warm sugar and melted butter emanated from her pores, which caused a lot of PMS cravings within the band.

  I pushed on the heavy sound proof door—I wasn’t sure why we bothered to have one if they were just going to prop it open—and Luci immediately ran to me with a loud shriek. I picked her up as she hissed at Steph.

  “I didn’t bring her out here, promise.” Steph rushed to explain.

  I shook my head, “You can bring her out here just stop trying to steal her from me.”

  “But she’s just so freaking cute, I can’t help myself.” Steph said while reaching out to pet the cat’s head and received a swift swat from a fluffy, yet deadly, paw.

  “Shit, she’s got some long claws. I just don’t understand why she won’t love me.” Steph whined.

  “That damn cat doesn’t like anyone except Elizabeth, so you might as well drop it. You’ve been trying for years and all you ever get is bloody.” Willow added from across the room.

  “Ugh, I know. But I just love that cat and her little face.” Steph pouted.

  “Shut up about the cat, and let’s get back to work.” Erika snapped from her seat behind the drums.

  “Chill Erika, we can take a freaking two second break.” Mia said, and then added under her breath, “Maybe if you got your timings right we wouldn’t feel the need for a break.”

  “Go to hell, Princess Mia.” Erika shot back.