Saved by the Music (Saints & Sinners Book 2) (12 page)

“Do you mind if we make a stop at the store before we head to the shelter?” Ashlee asked Trish, who was in the passenger seat of the band’s rental SUV.

“Lead the way. What do you need?”

She had to admit that spending time with one of her closest friends without anyone else around was something she missed. On the road, quiet time barely existed; privacy wasn’t a luxury they had.

She knew Trish would have a million questions with what she was about to say, but she was ready for them. “Oh, I want to grab some blankets, and maybe some clothes and non-perishable foods to bring with us.” It was the one thing she always found money to do. Sure, things were more than tight with her mom’s bills, but these people needed it more than she did.

“Did you tell Sam about this?” Trish sounded more confused than surprised, which threw her off her game a little; that wasn’t at all the question she was expecting. But in reality, it didn’t shock her.

“No, why?” she asked, suffering a heavy dose of confusion as well.

“Are you paying for all this, Ashlee?” And there it was, the question she knew would come sooner rather than later. The last thing she needed was a speech about how she spent her money or about how she should’ve asked the band to help out with a donation.

She squeezed the steering wheel and took a deep breath before answering. “Yes. They need this a lot more than I need the hundred dollars it’s gonna cost, Trish.”

“You should’ve told Sam about this, honey. He would’ve come with you.”

She knew he would have, but this was something she had to do for herself. Maybe one day, it could be something they did together, but for now, this was for her.

“I don’t want him to think I’m after his money, Trish.” Now it was out in the open; she couldn’t take it back even if she wanted to.

She hated the thought that Sam would see her as just another woman after his money. She cared about him too much to take that chance. Hell, she was so in love with him, she would give her life to protect him from any harm she could prevent.

Trish turned in her seat and Ashlee sensed her friend’s eyes on her face. She knew she was about to get it. “Is that what you think? That if you ask him for money to buy things for homeless people that he’s going to assume you’re after his money? Wait, please don’t tell me that’s why you’re not asking me or Sam for the money to help cover your mom’s hospital bills.”

She wanted to scream “YES!” at the top of her lungs, but she could barely swallow down her pride. She knew how badly she needed the money, but she couldn’t force herself to ask her very wealthy friends, because what did that make her? Someone who would use a personal situation to take advantage of her friends, and she couldn’t do it—she
wouldn’t
. “You know the answer to that, Trish.”

She took a moment while they were stopped at a red light to turn toward Trish, and the hurt she saw on her friend’s face almost unleashed the waterworks. “Oh, Ashlee, honey… none of us could ever think that about you, and especially not Sam.”

It didn’t matter because she wouldn’t do it, no matter how much she needed to. “I like him a lot. I know I shouldn’t because I work for him, but I do and I don’t want him to think I want his money. I just want him.”

“You need to talk to him about this.”

She knew Trish was right; she did need to talk to Sam, not only about this but about everything else. If they were going to have a chance to build a solid relationship, they needed to put everything in the open and leave nothing untouched, no matter how scary that might be for both of them. “I will do,” she finally answered.

After stopping by the story and buying provisions, Ashlee turned into the parking lot of the shelter and smiled at Trish before putting the car in park. “Right, how about we cheer some people up?”

As Ashlee and Trish
walked through the shelter, both of them stopped to talk to the women and children sitting around in the open space, each story touching them deeper than they could’ve ever imagined. By the time they reached the back of the room where the offices were, Ashlee was emotionally drained from listening to the women’s stories.

She softly knocked on the office door and smiled when a beautiful woman in her early forties opened the door. “Ashlee Daniels, I am so happy to see you, sweetheart. When you called to tell me you were in town, I couldn’t believe it. How are you?”

Ashlee hugged her with every bit of strength she had. Sylvia had been one of the first clients she’d worked with when her firm was starting out, and they had grown extremely close over the years. “I’m fine, Sylvia. It’s so good to see you. This is my friend, Patricia Banks. Trish, this is Sylvia Rodriguez. She runs the shelter and is one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met.”

As the two women hugged each other, Ashlee realized this was exactly what she needed to clear her head.

Trish looked at the two of them. “I’m gonna unload the car while you two catch up.” Ashlee watched her friend head back to the front of the shelter before she took a seat in Sylvia’s office.

“How much did you spend, Ashlee?” Leave it to Sylvia to go straight to the point; it was one of the things she respected most about her. She never sugar-coated anything, and if you didn’t want to hear what she had to say that was too bad for you, because you were going to hear it anyway.

“A couple hundred dollars. It’s not much, but we got some clothes and some essential stuff.” She wished she could’ve afforded more, but had already pushed her budget from a hundred bucks, but she knew every little thing mattered.

“You always were the compassionate one, Ashlee. So tell me, what’s new with you? How’s your mom?” When Sylvia looked at her with those kind eyes, she realized how raw she was feeling.

She didn’t have it in her to hide anything or to force a smile when the one thing that weighed on her mind more than anything was the one thing she didn’t want to think about because it made her feel like a failure. “She’s had a rough couple of days. I haven’t been able to see her in a little while because of work, but she’s strong. We talk every day.” And every day she’d told her mom she’d head back if she needed her, but with every conversation, her stubborn mom urged her to stay away and focus on work. It was hard knowing what was the right thing to do.

“If you need anything, sweetheart, you let me know. Now, there’s something different about you. What’s his name?”

She was going to start thinking she had Sam’s name tattooed on her forehead if people kept asking her that question. “Is it that obvious?”

Sylvia laughed with her head thrown back and her arms around her belly. When her laughter had finally subdued, she looked at her. “Only to the ones who truly know you.”

“Sam… his name is Sam.”
Should I feel embarrassed about how proud I am to say it aloud, because I don’t.

Sylvia tilted her head to the side as if trying to gauge Ashlee’s feelings. “Is this Sam a good man?”

She wanted to say that he wasn’t just a good man, that he was incredible, sweet, compassionate, strong, demanding, and that she loved him, but she settled for something a little less over the top. “Yes, ma’am, he is.”

“But you’re scared?”

Now it was Ashlee’s turn to laugh at how intuitive Sylvia was. She was scared of how intense her feelings for Sam were, about asking for help with her mother’s bills, that she would give Sam her heart and he would break it in a million pieces. She was scared of everything and scared of nothing at the same time. “He doesn’t know everything yet. What if he runs when I tell him?”

Sylvia reached for her hands across her desk, and the next words she spoke gave Ashlee strength to tell Sam everything. “Then he wasn’t worth giving your heart to, Ashlee.”

SAM

Sam couldn’t believe how fast he’d become addicted to having Ashlee around. He had hoped they would be able to spend the day together, that he would actually have the chance to take her on a date and get to know her better, but she was out with Trish
and he was alone in his hotel room feeling like a sad puppy. He respected that she needed the time away from him, but he wished she would just tell him what was going on in her head instead of running and hiding. He wasn’t immune to his share of secrets, but he was ready to tell her everything. Would she do the same?

His thoughts were cut short when his cell phone rang from the nightstand of his hotel room. He walked over to grab it and smiled when he saw his mother’s face on the screen. “Hey, Mom, how are you?”

“Hey, honey. I’m doing all right. What about you?” Right there, he knew something was wrong.

His mom always sounded light and fun, but today she sounded burdened. He didn’t like it one bit, because there was only one person who made her that way. “Things are good, Mom. You sound a little off. What’s going on?”

“I got a call from the parole board today.” His whole body stiffened, fists clenched at his thighs, anger building inside him.

“What did they want?” he asked, dreading her answer.

His mom started crying and he knew. He just knew. He slammed his fist into the wall so hard he made a hole in it, but he didn’t give a shit.

“Oh, Sam, they wanted to inform me that the parole board granted your father an early release for good behavior. He’s out, Sam. He’s been out for two days.”

Forty-eight hours. The man who should have died that night had been out in the world for forty-eight hours, planning God knows what. How could they let him out? Good behavior? The man didn’t have an ounce of good in him.

Sam’s fist connected with the wall again, blood streaming from his knuckles. “Mom, did he try to contact you?”

“No, baby, he didn’t.” She didn’t even sound concerned, and that pissed him off even more. He knew what his dad was capable of and how revenge had fueled his anger for years already. Given the chance, that man would do everything he could to make them both pay for sending him away.

“If you hear from him, you have to tell me, Mom.”

“Baby, don’t let him get to you. He doesn’t deserve it.” It was too late for that; the man had a hold on him since the night Sam put a bullet in him and he wasn’t letting go. He wouldn’t let go. The memories still haunted him; they were like an anchor weighing him down.

“What he deserved was me not missing that shot that night. I have to go, Mom.” What kind of man did saying that make him? It sure as hell didn’t make him one worthy of having the kind of light Ashlee brought into his life. He didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve a man capable of murder. Every time he came close to being happy, his dad still managed to fuck it up.

“I love you, baby.” He knew his mom was trying to ease him down from the ledge, but nothing could stop him from taking that plunge.

“I love you, too, Mom,” he said to reassure her, but the minute he ended the call, he grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and threw it against the window.

When Jarrod came barging into his room, it was already too late. The room was a complete disaster with broken furniture, pieces of glass scattered all around the floor, and traces of blood everywhere. Sam’s hands were covered with blood and scratches, his shoulders had pieces of glass in them from banging his body against the mirrors, and his forehead was bleeding. The contents of the mini bar were sprawled all over the table, and the man Jarrod knew was gone.

He could see his friend’s silhouette walking toward him, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him anymore.

Jarrod tried to take the bottle from his hand. “Sam, you have to calm down, man. Talk to me.”

“You don’t understand. He’s out… and he won’t stop. I should’ve fucking killed him.” He was yelling and could feel the strain on his vocal chords. He felt numb, the only way he could get through this because feeling would kill him.

“You have to get control over yourself. Talk to me here, man. Let me help you.” Jarrod grabbed his shoulders, forcing Sam to look at him.

“You can’t help me… no one can.” He stood up and threw the chair against the wall, sending pieces of wood flying across the room. He couldn’t protect his mom, and he couldn’t keep Ashlee from seeing the side of him that would make her run. He couldn’t breathe without her. He had to shut down to get through this.

He let his body fall to the floor and Jarrod knelt beside him. “Sam, stay with me. Don’t you dare fucking shut down on me.”

“Just leave… leave me the fuck alone.” He closed his hand in a tight fist and threw a punch that sent Jarrod down on his ass.

Jarrod looked at him, trying to see a part of him that was no longer alive. “Sam….”

He could hear the pleading in Jarrod’s voice, but he didn’t care.

“Leave.” His whole body shut down, and when the last of his mind followed, he felt like the same scared little boy who knew he was about to get a beating.

He felt lost.

Ashlee

They were driving back to the hotel when Trish’s cell phone rang. Ashlee couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew something wasn’t right. She listened to Trish’s side of the conversation, a knot deep down in the pit of her stomach that this was about Sam. She pulled over to the side of the road because she couldn’t focus on driving when she didn’t know what the hell was going on. She needed to know what was happening, needed to be with him.

When Trish closed her cell phone, panic was written all over her face, fueling Ashlee’s. “What’s going on?”

“Sam needs you.” Three words were all it took for her to put the car back in drive and head back to the hotel. Three words for her whole world to come together, to know she could never let him go.

“What happened? Is he okay?” she asked when she finally managed to form words.

“No, he’s not. He trashed his hotel room and got violent with the guys.”

That didn’t make any sense to her. Sam wasn’t a violent man, not by a long shot, so she knew whatever happened must’ve been something very bad. “Why would he do that?”

“His dad is out of jail.”