Scorch (Black Inferno Book 4) (4 page)

“The fuck?” he shouts. “I’m fucking panicking and it’s all because she didn’t charge her cell? I’ve been ringing this phone, too. What’s her excuse on that?”

“She stayed at mine last night,” I admit and there’s a silence.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t worry, bro, nothing happened.”

There I go, lying to him again.

Crystal’s eyes widen at my confession. She’s shaking her head and walking around in circles.

“I’m nearly home,” is all he says before hanging up.

“Why did you say that?” she asks. “He didn’t know I stayed over, and there was no need to tell him.”

“I can’t lie about everything, Crys.” I laugh, although I don’t find anything funny.

Crystal stomps into the kitchen, flicking on the coffee maker and folding her arms as she waits. She looks over at me and frowns. “It’s fine, you can leave now.”

“What’s the matter?” I ask, stepping closer. “Is this because we kissed?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Then what?” I ask.

“It’s nothing,” she urges, but I’m not buying it.

“This to do with your ex?” I ask, and as soon as I ask her, I know I have it right. Her body slightly flinches, it’s a small movement but totally caught it.

“No,” she answers, but her face has paled in the seconds since I asked the question, and this close to her I can see she’s, in fact, been crying.

“Bullshit,” I snap. “What they fuck has he done to make you cry?”

“He hasn’t.” She turns away from me, but I reach for her arm and pull her back, spinning her around to face me.

“Don’t lie to me, Crystal,” I plead. “I want to help.”

“Then leave it.” She pushes away and I hear the front door open. Tate’s home.

“I won’t,” I whisper as I walk past her, exiting the kitchen. I see Tate entering, looking like a fucking mess. “Good morning.”

“Yeah,” he grumbles and Crystal appears from the kitchen, quickly glancing from me to Tate. “Crystal…” Tate speaks, not sounding at all happy. Crystal ignores him, though, and takes herself and her cup of coffee upstairs. Tate looks to me in question, but I shrug, shaking my head. “I’m going to bed,” Tate grumbles, slapping me on the back as he passes.

I exit the house, feeling angered that Crystal’s ex affects her like this. He shouldn’t be making her cry. I know Roxie told me to be careful, but I’m not having her mistreated by some dick who
she left
. She obviously wants nothing to do with him, so why isn’t he leaving her the fuck alone?

I want to help her and I will.

The rest of the day, I spent locked in my room, binging on movies and box sets until I fall asleep. When I wake the next day, I’m desperate to get out. Luckily for me, Lacey sends a text to let me know they’re all going Roxie’s and I eagerly reply that I’ll be coming.

Another blessing is that I don’t have to go by Booker’s place to get to Mason and Roxie’s house. But I walk quickly anyway, I don’t want another lecture from Booker anytime soon. I can’t take it, I was so close to admitting everything about Troy before Tate walked through the door. I don’t want anyone knowing what he put me through.

As I arrive at the gates of the house, Mason’s exiting and he stops to let me by. “Joining the party?”

“And you aren’t?” I laugh, stepping inside the high metal guarded gates. This estate was secure before we met Lacey and Roxie, but after what went down with Joe and his twisted ways, the guys doubled the security. Especially when little Quinton was born. We cannot afford for anything like that to happen again, which is why I think I should tell everyone about Troy. Roxie kept it quiet, and then once she realized it, it was too late. Maybe I should ask her advice?

“No.” Mason laughs. “I’m going to Cole’s. I’ve had my share of girly chatter.”

This makes me laugh. While the band are recording their new album, Mason didn’t want to leave Roxie all alone with baby Quin, so Paige offered to say over and help. Only that turned into her moving in, and I suppose it’s fair because both Paige and Ria were staying at Cole’s place. Seeing as Paige is related to Roxie, it only seems right that she stay with them, but I don’t think Mason appreciates that. We say our goodbyes and go our separate ways.

I don’t bother knocking because they know I’m coming. “Hello?” I call out as I enter.

“In here,” I hear Paige shout and walk toward the front room.

All the girls are here, including a stranger. “Hi,” I greet.

“Crystal,” Roxie greets, getting up and holding me tightly. She’s worried about me, and this is why I don’t want to tell everyone else, they’ll all feel sorry for me and see me as a victim.

I do not want that.

Roxie then guides me to the seat beside her on the sofa and looks to the girl I don’t know. Her hair is the color of fire, and I find it odd because red hair as natural as ours is rare. Her eyes are green and her skin pale. “This is Lola,” Roxie introduces.

“Hey Lola, I’m Crystal.” I nod.

“Hey...” she smiles, “…I see Roxie is collecting redheads.”

“Yeah, it looks that way.” I laugh.

Roxie rolls her eyes at our joke and the rest of the girls laugh along with us.

“I met Lola around a year ago,” Roxie adds, and I notice an edge to her voice.

“Wait…” I jump in, “…Lola is the one who brought you home that night?” I ask.

Roxie nods and Lola looks between us piecing it all together. “This is why I came, to check in on you Roxie, but I didn’t know that the night we met was the night Joe…” She lets her sentence drop away, but we all know where it leads. The night Lola and Roxie met, was the night Joe took advantage of Roxie.

“He was waiting for me,” Roxie whispers.

“I should have stayed with you,” Lola cries.

“No.” Roxie shakes her head. “We didn’t know he was there, and you practically walked me right up to the tour bus. I told you to go home.” Roxie places a hand on Lola’s shoulder. “I’m glad you weren’t there because I’m afraid it could have been worse if you were. He was on something that night, I’m sure.”

“It isn’t an excuse.” Lacey frowns. “He still hurt you.”

“I know it’s not.” Roxie smiles.

“Let’s not talk about this now,” I cut in. “Joe’s gone, and will never trouble Roxie or any of us again.”

Roxie gives me a truly happy smile. Nobody needs to be reminded of that, and besides, all this talk is making me think of Troy.

“One thing I do remember is how much you spoke about Mason.” Lola smirks. “I’m so glad you’re together again. I felt like I knew the both of you that night.” She laughs.

“Men.” Roxie shakes her head. We laugh a little, but the reality of that time for Roxie was terrible. Roxie’s smile fades and I feel bad as she is taken back to her past memories.

The sounds of baby Quin stirring from the baby monitor clutched in Roxie’s hand interrupts, and she rushes upstairs. Once Roxie is far enough away, Lola then looks to the rest of us.

“How’s she doing?” she asks, and right then I gain some respect for her. She seems to care about our shared friend.

“A lot better,” Lacey answers. “Quin and Mason are a big reason for her staying on the straight and narrow.”

“And you guys…” Lola smiles around at us, “…I can see you’re more like family than friends.”

“We’ve been through a lot together.” I nod.

“Yeah, I caught all of that from the news.” Lola frowns. “I remembered Roxie right away and I was worried.”

“It’s good of you to catch up,” Lacey adds.

Roxie then walks in with Quin in her arms, and we all turn into mush at his cuteness. Roxie then sits down again, introducing Lola to her son.

“Oh, he’s just adorable.” Lola fusses him, and after a little while, the conversation turns to the guys. “I was so shocked that Mason was, in fact,
the
Mason from Black Inferno.” Lola laughs.

“You should hear our story.” Lacey smiles.

“Oh well, now I have to know,” Lola begs.

“Lacey and I met the guys in a club, and we didn’t know who the hell they were,” Roxie answers.

“Not a clue?” Lola asks, looking shocked.

“Nope.” Lacey laughs. “We were dating rock stars and we were clueless. Ria and Paige were the ones to tell us.”

“Yeah, Lace took it worse than me.” Roxie shakes her head, and Lacey rolls her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have been cool, either,” Lola adds.

“Really?” I ask her.

“Oh, yeah!” Lola nods. “Deal breaker number one.”

“You don’t like dating a rock star?” asks Paige.

“I will never date one, simple as that,” Lola answers.

“Her dad is Travis Woodhall,” Roxie announces, and we all look to her in awe.

Lola rolls her eyes. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Why not?” asks Ria. “Your dad was a fucking legend.”

“Exactly…” Lola sighs, “…he enjoyed the life of drink, drugs, and rock and roll too much. He loved my mother and me in his own way, but he also felt the same for his other women and many other kids. I saw every single tear my mother shed for him, and the hurt he pushed on her even though she tried to hide it. Eventually, my father died, and I swore to never have another rock star in my life.”

There’s silence in the room and I pat her arm. “The Black Inferno men aren’t that extreme.”

“It doesn’t matter, I will keep my promise to myself,” Lola declares and I smile at her.

“I respect that,” I tell her.

“But don’t worry, I won’t be bitchy to the guys. They’ll be friends, but that’s enough for me.”

“We’ll have to tell Booker and Tate to keep away from you then.” Laughs Lacey.

At the mention of Booker, and thinking of him interested in Lola, it hurts me. More than I was expecting.

“Lola doesn’t drink either,” Roxie tells us. “So, at least, I’m not the only one.”

We don’t drink alcohol around Roxie too much, but she almost demands us to not change our drinking ways just for her. So it feels good that Lola doesn’t drink also.

“My dad put me off alcohol and drinks enough to last me a whole lifetime.” Lola shakes her head.

I’d heard the rumors about the hugely famous Travis Woodhall. He slept with so many women, hosted envious parties, and drank himself through every nightclub and bar going worldwide. I feel bad for Lola having to watch that growing up, and having to watch her mother love a man like that. No wonder she doesn’t want to settle for a man in the same industry.

For a whole week, I haven’t heard a thing. Seven days without any threat from Troy, and that’s put me in a good mood, but the cloud of doubt still creeps over me. I cannot forget the letters or that weird phone call. I’m trying, though, because I don’t want to be scared of him anymore.

I’ve used this time to relax with the girls while the band records their new album from the comfort of their home studios. The girls and me have been binging on food, which I’m now feeling guilty for, and watching television shows and movies. Of course, we’ve been outside, but when the guys aren’t around it’s nice to have control of the remote. Lola has even visited a few times, and we all enjoy her company. I still can’t believe that her dad is
the
Travis Woodhall! But now that I’ve heard the stories from her childhood, he doesn’t seem that much of a legend to me anymore. And the more I feel badly for my new friend, the less respect I have for the man who was supposed to be her father.

Mason is a huge superstar, the band is doing amazingly, but I know Mason will never let Roxie and their baby boy down. He’s a brilliant father, and I know he’ll give his family the life that they deserve.

Last night Tate even took the night off from work, and we spent the night as brother and sister, watching horror shows and laughing at the weak bitches who always end up dying. It was nice, and I wish we can do it more often. I miss it. However, my mind was on what’s going to happen today, because Booker asked me to come with him to his doctor’s appointment for his check-up on his gun wound—he hasn’t been able to play the drums since the day Joe shot him. That was one of the scariest times in my life, including the time I spent with Troy.

Booker says he isn’t worried, and that this is simply the doctor letting him know he can play his drums again, but behind the façade I know he’s scared. I’m not stupid, I know this is something more, and that Booker could possibly walk out not being able to play the drums for even longer. I know how much this is doing his head in, but he won’t let me see that it is. He watches the guys as they record and sample new tracks, but they can’t do anything final until Booker can play again once he gets the approval from the doctor. He has asked me to go with him, and I feel honored.

“Book has asked you to go with him?” asks Tate when he finds me at the kitchen table the next morning.

I finish my bowl of cereal before I answer him with a quick, “Yep.”

“Why?” he asks with a frown as he watches me grab my shoes and bag. I walk past him, and I hear the beep of Booker’s truck waiting outside. “Crystal…”

I turn to face my brother, he looks slightly angry and I cringe. This is why I didn’t want to originally get close to Booker because my brother won’t like it.

“What?” I sigh.

“Is there something I should know?” he asks, and I stare at him. I should tell him, but we have only slept together. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything. Tate doesn’t need to know who I fuck, same as I don’t want to know who he spends his time with.

“No,” I answer, and I feel shit as soon as I say the word. I feel as if I’m lying to him, and maybe I am.

The car horn sounds again, and Tate stands still as I flash him a smile and run outside to his truck and quickly jump in.

“Hey girl,” Booker greets me.

“Morning,” I answer back, my mood lifting straight away.

“Is Tate okay?” he asks when I buckle myself into the seat and turn around spotting my big brother standing in his doorway, just staring over at us. Booker waves out the window, but he doesn’t move a single inch.

“Just drive,” I order him and Booker looks to me.

“Have you pissed him off?” he asks with a smirk.

“Nope…” I look out the front window, “…but you might if you sit there like an idiot. Drive!”

With one last look to Tate, Booker then drives off, and I breathe a relieved breath. “Is there something I should know?”

I lean my head back on the headrest behind me. “What is it with that question today?”

“Tate asked you that?” Booker questions. “He asked that about us? That’s why he looks pissed?”

“Bingo,” I point out, and Booker growls.

“Shit,” he shouts. “He’s fucking pissed at me!”

I begin to laugh. “He’s not pissed, just protective.”

“You think this is funny?” Booker asks.

“No...” I continue to laugh and don’t understand why. I’m just as concerned as Booker is. “What are we going to do?”

“That depends…” Booker answers. “Is there anything to tell him?”

I stay silent, I don’t know what to say. I told Tate that there isn’t, but now that Booker has asked me the question it feels so much more. We’ve had sex, a lot of fucking times, but are we more than just sex?

“If we want to take this further, we have to tell him,” Booker explains.

“But what are we Book?” I ask him. “We aren’t together.”

“No.” He shakes his head as he continues to drive. We stay silent for a few minutes, our thoughts screaming at one another. Eventually, we reach the doctors. When Booker turns off the engine, we sit in the quiet, and he turns to face me. “I want to be something more, you know that. I know you feel the same, so why are we holding back?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh. It’s a mixture of Tate and Troy. I don’t want to ruin the friendship my brother has with Booker, and what it could do to the band. I hope I’m not putting things off with Booker because of what I went through with Troy.

Booker’s hand reaches for my face and as soon as his skin comes into contact with mine, my eyes close. I love his hands on me. “I can handle Tate if that’s what’s bothering you?”

“No.” I shake my head, and when I open my eyes, Booker is frowning right back at me. “He’ll be pissed at you, Book.”

“I can handle it,” he insists. “I’m a big boy.”

That makes me laugh. “That… I know.”

Suddenly, the conversation seems to have moved onto something else entirely. Booker grunts, his eyes dark and wanting. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

My cheeks burn. “Come on, you have an appointment.”

He then moans out, “Damn.”

Laughing as I slide out of the truck, but I suddenly become acutely aware of people walking around us and cars driving past.

Troy could be anywhere out here.

Is he watching me right now?

A hand comes down on my shoulder and I jump, screaming out loud. I spin to face a shocked Booker as he holds his hands up.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks.

“Nothing…” I breathe, trying to calm my heart, “…you just made me jump.”

Booker looks at me in the way that nobody else ever does. He can see right past my lies. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I look around, pretending there’s nothing wrong.

“You sure?” he asks me. “You look pale.”

I roll my eyes. “Book, I’m fine. Now stop stalling and get your ass inside.”

This makes him stand tall. “I ain’t stalling.”

“Really?” I cross my arms and tilt my head to the side. “Because you’re still standing here.”

“I’m waiting for you,” he explains.

Sighing, I walk around him and lead Booker into the doctors. Little does he realize just how easily I turned that whole conversation to him. I head straight for the reception desk. She’s a pretty little thing and looks perfectly put together. Hair pulled back into a long ponytail and her white uniform seeming a little too tight around the chest area. I bet the men love having her around here.

“Booker Haden, please,” I speak clearly to her.

She’s about to reply to me when she must have set eyes on the man entering behind me. Just for the hell of it, I turn my head so I can see her view. Booker walks in, ignoring the looks from the staring eyes. His dirty blond hair hanging jaw length—I love his hair styled like this. It’s a change from the Mohawk he was sporting when I first met him. His multi-colored tattoos standing out against his black clothing. When he looks up to me, his sparkling blue eyes meet my green ones. A feeling of excitement sweeps over me, and I try my best to ignore it but I can’t. There’s no mistake that I want Booker and that I really want us to be together, but I just don’t think I can. Telling everyone how we feel is a scary thing.

“And you’re Booker Haden?” asks the receptionist behind me, breaking me from Booker’s stare.

“That I am.” He gifts her with a smile as he reaches my side.

“
The
Booker?” she asks.

“From Black Inferno, yeah. Now can we get in to see the doctor?” I butt in and don’t miss Booker’s amused expression, or the pissed off frown the receptionist throws me.

She clicks away at her computer, every now and then sending Booker a sweet smile, and it really pisses me off. I don’t want another woman looking at him like that, and I try my best to look at Booker out of the corner of my eye to see his reaction, but I’m unsuccessful.

What if he was smiling back and leading her on?

I can’t do anything about it.

She lets us know we’ll be called when the doctor’s ready, so we take a seat side by side in the waiting room with the other patients casting Booker wary glances. This is a private practice, so there’s bound to be stuck up snobs thinking they’re above us and wondering how the hell we are able to afford it.

“You think I should throw away her number when we leave?” he asks me, showing me the scrap of paper with the receptionist’s number scribbled in red ink.
I didn’t even see her pass it to him.
I look up at her and frown when I see her smug stare.
Fucking bitch.
I snatch the paper from Booker’s hand and watch her as I tear it up and throw it in the small trash bin beside me. Her face turns to shock and Booker laughs quietly beside me.