Rock King Page 2

  I returned the grin, although mine was only half-hearted. “Same here.” Because no one, wild horse or otherwise, would be doing the dragging. My father was in jail, my mother was buried six feet under, and keeping in touch with friends from my former life hurt too much.

  I wanted what they still had. Family. Security. A belief that life would magically work out for the best.

  I knew better now.

  Piper made a sweeping arc with her hands. “So, you work here?”

  Eager to extricate myself from Piper’s well-manicured claws, I slipped back into waitress mode, pen hovering above my order pad. “Yep. What can I get for you?”

  “A glass of sauvignon blanc, if you have it.”

  “Sure. Be right back.” I had to force myself not to run to the bar. Despite knowing Piper Hastings for most of my life, that was probably the longest conversation we’d ever shared.

  By the time I returned with her drink, an older man had seated himself opposite her. Medium height with a build that was solid without being stocky, he had an attractively shaved head. A starched white button-down shirt set off his tan, and gold cuff links flashed at his wrists. Setting down Piper’s wineglass with only the slightest wobble, I turned to him. “What can I get for you, sir?”

  Piper spoke up before he could answer. “Delaney, this is my boss, Travis Taggert. Travis, Delaney’s an old friend from back home.”

  Old friend? Talk about an exaggeration. I would have laughed, but Travis’s dark, appraising eyes didn’t inspire levity. “Nice to meet you, Delaney.” His voice was gruff but polite.

  “Likewise. So…” I cleared my throat, itching to get away again, “something from the bar?”

  Another nod. “Grey Goose, rocks, three olives.”

  Travis’s hooded gaze followed me as I crossed the restaurant to fetch his cocktail. “Delaney,” he said on my return, “I’m having a party tonight. You should come. I’ll bet Piper would love to spend more time with one of her friends from back home.”

  The glare Piper gave Travis from across the table belied his assessment. “I don’t get off until late tonight,” I said, not exactly jumping at the chance to hang out with her either.

  Travis responded with a short shake of his head, the restaurant’s recessed spotlights glinting off his bald scalp. “Not a problem. My parties don’t get good until late, anyway.”

  I flicked a tongue over suddenly dry lips. “Well, I’m not exactly dressed appropriately, and I don’t have a change of clothes here,” I said, looking down at my standard waitress attire of white shirt and black pants.

  “Oh, Delaney, that’s too bad. I guess we’ll just have to do it another time,” Piper chirped, the obvious snub bringing back memories that filled my mind like a swarm of angry bees, buzzing and stinging at will.

  Oh, Delaney, you don’t really want to try out for cheerleading, do you? I mean, being out in front of the stands, representing our school, it’s just such a huge responsibility. And, of course, the uniforms aren’t exactly forgiving.

  Oh, Delaney, this party’s not really for the whole school. Just a few friends, and friends of friends. You understand, right?

  Oh, Delaney, I’m jealous you have so much free time to study. Between cheer practice, football games, hanging out with my squad and all the players, and of course, chairing the prom committee, I barely have time to crack a book.

  How many “Oh, Delaney’s” had I heard from Piper and her friends over the years? Too many. And her caustic tone was just as abrasive now as it was then.

  Travis rolled his shoulders, eyes narrowing as he looked back and forth between us. “You two are just about the same size, and I’ve never seen you in the same thing twice, Piper. I’m sure you have something for Delaney to wear.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Was I really the same size as Piper Hastings? I cast a discreet glance her way. Not quite, but not too far off either. Grief was a pretty effective diet. “That’s really generous, but I just don’t think—”

  Piper let loose a high-pitched chortle. “After being on her feet all day, you can’t blame Delaney for not wanting to put on a dress and heels.” I gnashed my teeth at the latest comment from the peanut gallery. Piper didn’t want me at Travis’s party; I got the hint, loud and clear.

  Travis, not so much. He flicked an exasperated glance at Piper. “Last time I checked, I had plenty of seating. Besides, no one turns down an invitation to one of my parties, Delaney.”

  A tingle of curiosity pricked at my skin. I wasn’t in high school anymore. Why was I letting Piper exclude me from all the fun?

  Fun. Did I even know what fun was anymore?

  Maybe it was because I hadn’t been to a party in three years. Maybe it was because I was enjoying the irritation smeared across Piper’s face a little too much. Maybe it was because Travis didn’t seem like he was going to take no for an answer. Maybe it was all three, because when I opened my mouth, not a single one of the dozen excuses I had at the tip of my tongue emerged. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t want to spoil your perfect track record.”

  “Great.” Travis slapped the table with a resounding thwack. “What time does your shift end? Piper will pick you up here.”

  “Around eleven, sometimes a little after,” I answered, my brief flare of rebellion already fading. Partying with Hollywood A-listers? Not exactly my crowd, any more than Piper’s cheerleading squad and the jocks they hung out with had been in high school. “But there’s no need for that. If you give me your address, I’ll call an Uber.” Yeah, right. Another lie. Without a doubt, I’d be in my pajamas by midnight. As usual.

  My hesitation must have been obvious, and Travis was clearly no fool. “Absolutely not. Piper will be happy to pick you up after your shift ends, with something suitable to wear. Isn’t that right, Piper?”

  I winced at the little daggers of outrage glinting from her wide-set eyes. “Sure thing, boss.”

  “Good. It’s settled, then,” Travis pronounced.

  Settled? Crap. What have I done? “Are you sure, Piper? I don’t want to put you out of your way,” I sputtered, silently begging her to get me out of the mess I’d created.

  An overly bright smile twisting her perfectly lined and glossed lips, Piper’s voice was honey with a saccharine chaser. Nauseatingly sweet with an artificial aftertaste. “Don’t mention it. Coming back to pick you up, bringing an outfit, it’s no trouble at all. I’m just thrilled you don’t already have plans.”

  I hadn’t made plans in three years. Why bother when life stole your lemonade and pelted you with rotten lemons instead? If I wasn’t working, I was usually home with my nose buried in a book or binge-watching shows from my Netflix queue. Living through fictional characters whose lives were so much better than mine. “Well, okay then.” I pushed the words out of my mouth, wishing I could swallow them whole instead. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  Travis set down his cocktail. “Going to be a good crowd tonight. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

  Too late. I already did.

  But what the hell, just add it to the list. I’d accumulated a lot of regrets in my twenty-four years. What was one more?

  Chapter Two

  Delaney

  Hulking at the top of a steep driveway, Travis’s house was a contemporary behemoth. Beyond a pair of dark, oversized doors, the all-white decor served as a stark backdrop to the ridiculously beautiful people casually clumped in small groups everywhere I turned. My borrowed heels clicked on the marble floor as I tagged behind Piper, who entered the house like she owned it and was now making a beeline for the open doors leading to a back terrace and infinity pool.

  More people were outside, including Travis, who was holding court from an oversized sectional. I hung back, feeling a lock of hair become ensnared in the lip gloss I’d applied using the overhead mirror in Piper’s car. Prying it loose, I nervously tucked the wayward strand behind my ear and watched as Piper edged around the back of the couch, resting a manicured hand lightl
y on Travis’s shoulder until he acknowledged her presence by leaning back, his head cocked expectantly to the side.

  She whispered something in his ear and discreetly pointed in my direction. Travis looked up, his eyes locking onto mine immediately. He smiled and I reluctantly smiled back.

  Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

  Piper reappeared at my elbow. “Come on, let’s get a drink.” She had been significantly nicer to me on the drive here, as if she’d resigned herself to her fate and decided to make the best of the situation. Or maybe Travis had picked up on the mean girl sarcasm after all and told her to quit it.

  A bar had been set up at the far end of the pool, staffed by a bartender in a tight black T-shirt and dark jeans. Piper flashed an aloof half smile at him, his lowly worker-bee status apparently deserving only a brief glimpse of her shiny teeth. “Two mojitos please,” she ordered, not bothering to ask if I liked the minty Cuban cocktail. As he mixed the drinks, she turned to me, her voice hushed. “Listen, be nice to Travis. If he likes you, he’s definitely a good guy to know.”

  I frowned. “What if I don’t like him?”

  Piper blanched, as if the idea were so outlandish she’d never considered it. Then she took our drinks from the bartender’s outstretched hand and walked toward a tree glittering from the soft white lights wrapped around its trunk and branches. I followed. “Don’t be silly. Everyone likes Travis.”

  “I pay her to sing my praises at every opportunity, you know.” A silvery voice appeared inches from my ear.

  I turned, instinctively knowing there was a grain of truth to the deceptively casual comment. “I guess Piper deserves a raise, then,” I said.

  Travis offered a small nod to Piper, who quickly handed me my drink. “So, you and Piper were friends in school?” he asked, turning his attention back to me.

  I spied my friend quietly slinking away. “Not really,” I answered honestly. “But Bronxville is a small town. I guess you could say we were all friends.”

  He was wearing jeans, but Travis’s compact, muscular frame begged for a suit. “I’m from back East, too. Yonkers though. Not quite the same as Bronxville.”

  No. If Bronxville were an honor student, Yonkers was its troubled, dropout cousin. The invisible border that separated the neighboring towns may as well have been a gaping divide the size of the Grand Canyon. “What brought you out here?”

  “UCLA has great weather and, at the time anyway, the cheapest tuition.” He shrugged dismissively. “One thing led to another and I never left.”

  I lifted my chin. “Looks like you made a good choice.”

  Another shrug. “When you do what I do, L.A. is the place to be.”

  The lights suspended in the tree overhead trembled as a breeze gusted, their dancing glow sinister on Travis’s face. “Piper said you were an agent. A super agent, actually.”

  He crooked a smile. “Said like someone from my PR team.”

  I took the last sip of my mojito, the mint sharp on my tongue. “So, what’s your super power?”

  He waited for the ice to settle back in my drink. “I fix problems.”

  Gesturing at his huge house and stunning view, I trilled out a high-pitched laugh, expecting Travis to elaborate. When he didn’t, I said, “So do exterminators, but I doubt they can afford a place like this.”

  Travis looked out over the Hollywood Hills, offering a self-assured chuckle. “We both deal with pests, but I charge a hell of a lot more than Terminix.”

  I looked around for Piper. Where was she and why had she left me alone with her boss? “Do you represent anyone I know?”

  His chuckle graduated to a belly laugh, flashing teeth so white they couldn’t have been real. “Probably.”

  “Oh, um, cool.” Jesus. What was I doing here? I hated small talk and big parties.

  Travis eyed me with open interest. “So, what brought you out West?”

  “I guess I just needed a change,” I answered, sounding slightly strangled. After my father’s conviction, I’d packed up and kept moving west, working at bars and restaurants just long enough to afford another bus ticket. The Pacific Ocean had put a halt to my travels. Any farther and I’d need a plane ticket. Of course, I could have changed direction, gone north or south. But I couldn’t decide between the two, so rather than make any decision at all, I had stayed in L.A.

  “Did you get it?”

  Travis’s question interrupted my thoughts. “What?”

  “Change,” he said, his eyes narrowing at the edges, focusing on me to the exclusion of everything around us.

  Change. From Ivy League coed to an L.A. waitress just trying to get by? Yeah, you could say that. “I did,” I said.

  “I’ve never met a waitress who wasn’t just biding her time, figuring out their next step. Tell me, Delaney, what’s yours?”

  I didn’t have a next anything. I was trapped in the past, unsure I deserved a future at all. My lips tightened, and I took a half step back, suddenly suspicious of Travis’s perfectly shaved pate and dark, piercing eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

  Travis gave a small sigh. “Maybe I don’t.” Turning on his heel, he walked back toward the group he’d been talking with earlier, smoothly reclaiming his seat as if he’d never left.

  Shane

  I pulled up to Travis’s house late, after midnight. Not because I had anything better to do. Just that I didn’t want to arrive before my girl. For the next few months, anyway. I didn’t know her name yet, or what she looked like, although Travis knew what I liked. Dark hair, light eyes, and curves that made me believe, for at least a few minutes at a time, that life wasn’t all sharp corners and jagged edges.

  Travis’s parties were always a scene, and although I loved the stage, I hated crowds. Hours passed like minutes in a cramped recording studio, but even the thought of being trapped in conversations with people I didn’t know—or want to know—sent a shiver of revulsion sprinting across nerves already stretched to the point of breaking.

  I’d been to Travis’s house so many times it should have felt like a second home to me. Then again, I didn’t know what home felt like. Never had, really. Was it a place, a concept? I had a house of my own now, but to me the Malibu bungalow was nothing more than a five-million-dollar assemblage of windows, steel beams, doors, and drywall. And a view I’m told is priceless, whatever that means. But home? I’d ruined any chance of that long ago.

  Parking on the street, I kept my head down and hugged the shadows. I didn’t bother heading for the front door. Instead, my feet crunched on mulch as I walked along the perimeter of Travis’s backyard, just beyond reach of the spotlights popping up from the ground at odd intervals between trees, meticulously arranged to create intermittent patches of darkness for anyone seeking privacy without actually leaving the party.

  Not surprisingly, there were people everywhere. In the front, in the back, inside the house. Unless you were one of the lucky few on his star-studded client list, scoring an invite to a Travis Taggert party was a coveted prize, and he always assembled an interesting mix of people. Plenty of celebrities and their associated hangers-on, the moneymen who made their careers possible and the press and bloggers who stroked their egos with one breath and ripped them to shreds in the next. Travis also included people who were still green, still intrigued by the money and fame, by the beauty and allure of it all. People who hadn’t been sidetracked by bad press or good drugs. Yet.

  The throng was easily three-quarters female, Travis’s way of stacking the deck in my favor. Would I be tempted to leave the comfort of the shadows tonight? Travis said so, but I wasn’t feeling it. Sighing, I scanned the crowd for my agent, debating whether to say a quick hello before I slipped out the same way I had come. I spotted him standing beside a tree that looked as if it had been caught in an electrified fishnet. He wasn’t alone.

  My chest squeezed as I caught sight of the girl he was talking to. She stood out like a tropical fish in a sea of dense algae, and although I didn’t
know her name yet, I knew exactly who she was. My girl.

  From afar she was strikingly pretty, her skin luminous. I wanted to get closer, determine whether her features were as delicate and finely drawn as instinct told me they would be. The kind of beautiful that pulled you in and held on tight, quelling any desire to escape.

  I was good at escaping. Better than good, actually. Maybe the best.

  No one had ever been able to hang on to me. Not my father, who’d tried to hold me down and beat the insolence out of me. Or my mother, who’d been so lost inside herself, she could barely make eye contact with me. Not my brother, who wasn’t there when I needed him the most. Not the parents of my best friend, Caleb, who’d let me live with them after my parents died, while I was still in high school. Not the cops who were probably still itching to charge me with Caleb’s murder.

  Escape. I knew it well. I was a fucking expert.

  Travis pulled away from the girl, and I watched as she took a quick sip from her nearly empty glass, those big eyes sweeping over the crowd like a bewildered Dorothy dropped into Oz. I stepped onto the lawn, soles sinking into soft grass before my mind caught up with my body’s decision to move in. She was wearing a dress I wanted to rip off her with my teeth. Not much bigger than a Band-Aid, it still covered way too much of her creamy skin.

  Her back was to me when I found my voice, usually the one constant in my life. As soon as I did, I could feel Shane Hawthorne descending, the persona I’d created, the barrier I needed between me and…everything. Life.

  I wore Shane like a geeky teen slipping into the personality of his buff, heroic alter ego in his favorite video game. Shane Hawthorne was my avatar, and everyone thought he was real.

  Every girl wanted to fuck Shane Hawthorne.

  Every guy wanted to be Shane Hawthorne.

  No one more than me.

  Delaney

  “Not looking to become Travis Taggert’s next client, huh?”