He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“You’ll feel better.”
“I haven’t had that nightmare in years,” he said. “Stupid kid. Stupid fucking kid. Brought it all back. Fucking all of it.”
Melanie puzzled over his words for a moment. “The kid who hit your dog?”
He nodded slightly.
“He didn’t mean to,” Melanie said, not knowing what else to say.
“Did he mean to get drunk? Did he mean to get behind the wheel?”
“I-I guess so.”
“Then stop making excuses for the little shit.”
“I’m not. I guess I don’t understand why you’re more upset about him being drunk than him hitting Lady.”
She crept across the mattress and knelt behind him. When her hand touched his shoulder, he jumped as if she’d slapped him.
“What were you dreaming about?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do. Tell me.”
“He wasn’t dead, Melanie.”
She crinkled her brow. “Of course he’s not dead, sweetheart. I’m sure he made it home safely. You worry too much.” As if she could talk.
“Not the kid from this afternoon,” he said. “Joey. They told his parents that he died instantly when he slammed into the tree. Told them that he didn’t suffer. It was a lie, Mel. A merciful lie, maybe, but still a lie.”
She slid her hand over his smooth back and rested her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue.
“I heard the crash. I knew it was Joey, and I ran to see what had happened. I didn’t have any problem locating the car. I just followed a strange orange glow in the distance. The car was on fire. I could hear him screaming, Melanie. He wasn’t dead.” Gabe ran one hand around his neck. “I never heard anyone scream like that before. When I got to the car, I stood there in shock. I couldn’t move. I didn’t help him. His legs were pinned, and the car was too damaged to get him out, but I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t even fucking try to help him. It was like the whole thing was happening to someone else, like I wasn’t really there. Just watching a movie or something. Not watching a friend burn alive.”
Her heart ached for Gabe and for Joey, a boy she didn’t even know. A boy long gone.
“No one expected you to pull him out of a burning car, Gabe.”
“Someone did,” Gabe said. “Joey did.” He dropped his head. “He must have seen me standing there because what he was screaming and screaming and screaming was my name.” He covered his ears with both hands. “Standing there, I wished I was deaf. Wished I was deaf so I didn’t have to hear him scream. Why didn’t I wish for him to be saved, Melanie? Isn’t that what I should have been wishing for? I didn’t. I just wished I was deaf.”
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling sick. She forced herself not to fall apart, wrapped her arms around him and hugged, hoping to give him strength. He was shaking so hard, he couldn’t even hug her back.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” she whispered.
He made a sound—half laugh, half moan of misery. “I could have taken his fucking keys away. I could have called his parents to come pick him up. I could have stopped him from driving. That would have been easy. Hearing him screaming for help? Not easy. Hearing it in my nightmares over ten years later? Still not easy.” He gripped his knees until his knuckles turned white. “Fuck. I should have done more to stop that kid this afternoon. What if he overturned the truck? What if he’s out in some desolate field, trapped inside, dying right now? No one would even know where to look for him.”
“He’s not, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“But how do you know?”
“I don’t,” she admitted. She ran her fingers through the soft strip of hair down the center of his head, trying to comfort both of them. She tried to catch his eye, but he was too busy staring into the horror in his own mind to see her. “Why don’t you call the police station and see if they picked him up? You’ll feel better knowing that he’s safe.”
Gabe tensed and then turned his head. His eyes focused on hers at last, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” He kissed her and pushed up from the bed. “My woman is a genius,” he said. Before she could track his movement, he was already out of the room.
She prayed that the cops had come to pick the kid up after Gabe had called them. If they hadn’t, she’d pack Gabe into the truck and go looking for the teen and his rusted old pickup truck. Gabe wouldn’t be able to rest until he was sure the kid was safe.
She pushed her hair off her face and rubbed her eyes. Lord, she could only imagine the guilt he felt over Joey’s death. She didn’t even want to think about what it had been like for him to hear his name screamed in agony. And to keep hearing it in his dreams? She shuddered.
She was glad they’d lied to Joey’s parents and told them that their son had died instantly. No one needed the burden of the details. Certainly not her hunky, nerdy, sweetheart of a rock star. She wished she could erase that memory from his mind and his heart. She couldn’t even fool herself into believing that she’d made any sort of a difference in listening to him tell the story. And now it would haunt her too.
Wide awake, she climbed from the bed, stretching her arms over her head and taking note of the time. It was just after ten p.m. Her stomach reminded her that they’d skipped dinner. Again.
She was going to write a book on the Gabriel Banner Diet Plan: how to lose weight by being too distracted to remember to eat. The accompanying exercise book would be X-rated for sure. Equipment not included. Readers would have to find their own distracting hunk and accessories—Gabriel Banner was her workout partner and hers alone.
She headed toward the kitchen for something to eat and hoped he didn’t mind her making herself at home.
She was bent at the waist searching for food in the fridge—and she was pretty sure that three olives did not make a meal—when she heard an intake of breath behind her.
“Now that is definitely the most delicious thing that’s ever been in my kitchen,” Gabe said.
“Food?” she asked, backing out of the refrigerator and looking for whatever Gabe had discovered as delicious. “Where?”
He chuckled. “I was referring to you,” he said.
She flushed. “Oh. Thanks. But I could really use something that I would find delicious.”
“How about a protein shot?”
“Eww, Gabe!” She cringed and he laughed.
“I keep the fridge empty when I’m on the road, but there are probably some nonperishable goods in the pantry.”
“I was starting to think you don’t ever eat. It would explain why you’re so lean.” And why he looked so damned good naked.
“I think that’s from all the energy I expend drumming.”
“Oh.”
“And when you’re near, fucking.”
All part of the Gabriel Banner diet plan, she thought, but she didn’t want to sound stupid, so she refrained from voicing her thoughts.
He went to a narrow door off the kitchen and disappeared.
“Let’s see,” he called out to her. “We have beans, peaches, and spaghetti sauce. What sounds good?”
“Protein shots.”
He popped his head out of the pantry to look at her in surprise, and then he laughed. “That can be dessert. I don’t think you should swallow that stuff on an empty stomach.”
“I don’t think I should swallow it at all. Do you have any pasta to go with that spaghetti sauce?”
He brought out a mostly empty box of penne, a bit of elbow macaroni in a cellophane bag and half a serving of fettuccini. “This should be interesting,” he said.
She followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the counter to watch him as he set a pot of water to boil.
“Did you get in touch with the police about that kid?” she asked, thinking he must have because his mood had improved signif
icantly.
“Yeah, the truck was impounded and his grandfather came to pick the kid up from the station,” he said. “I bet he’ll think twice before getting wasted and stealing his grandfather’s truck in the future.”
“I’m glad he’s safe.”
“Me too,” Gabe said and rummaged through the freezer until he found some frozen meatballs, frozen garlic bread, and frozen vegetables.
“So that’s where you hide all the food,” she said.
“I guess I should have gone shopping this afternoon instead of making you go swimming against your will.”
“I had fun at the lake,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re easy to satisfy.” He tossed the frozen meatballs into the microwave.
“I wouldn’t say that. I’d say it’s the company I’ve been keeping that made today perfect.”
She caught his pleased smile as he wrested a cookie sheet out of a cabinet with a loud clatter. She knew people complimented him all the time about his musical talent, but she got the feeling that few truly appreciated him for who he was off tour.
The doorbell rang, and Melanie stiffened, acutely aware that she was naked and that the entire front of Gabe’s house was glass.
“Who would be visiting at this hour?” she said, hurrying toward the bedroom for clothes.
Gabe was right on her heels. “It can only be one person,” he said.
A female voice called from the foyer. “I saw your lights on. Are you fit for company?”
“Who is it?” Melanie said, thinking it awfully rude for someone to barge into someone else’s house without an invitation at almost eleven o’clock at night. She shimmied into a clean pair of panties and hunted through her suitcase for an outfit that sort of matched.
“That would be my mother,” Gabe said, tossing a long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. He was fully dressed and rushing out the bedroom door before Melanie could get her arm in a single sleeve.
“His mother?” she said under her breath. She eyed his bed, not because she wanted to roll around in the sheets with him, but because it looked like a decent place to hide.
Chapter Nineteen
Gabe found his mother in the living room, holding up Melanie’s discarded bra with one finger.
“I see you’ve been busy,” she said, her tone disapproving.
Gabe scooped up the clothes scattered all over the room and hurried to hide them in the half-bath.
“Is she still here?”
“Don’t embarrass her,” Gabe said. He was used to the constant condemnation of being a disappointment to his mother, but Melanie wouldn’t know what hit her when Katherine Banner let loose her better-than-thou routine.
“Well,” his mother said. “Where is she? In your bedroom, I suppose.”
“If I’d known you’d stop by unannounced, I’d have hidden her in the barn.”
“Will you cover up those horrible tattoos?” she said. “You know I can’t stand to look at them.”
She was referring to the ones on his head. He’d already covered the ones on his body with long sleeves. He didn’t bother to argue since they’d been over this a thousand times in the past. She treated him almost normal as long as she wasn’t confronted by his body modifications. He slipped a baseball cap onto his head and heard the hiss of water hitting the hot burner in the kitchen.
“I have something boiling over on the stove,” he said and jogged to the kitchen.
He was glad to see Melanie taking care of his forgotten meal, but not glad that his mother had followed him.
“And you would be…?” his mom said in a tone dripping with disapproval.
“I’m Melanie.” She extended her hand toward his mother and they exchanged a terse handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Banner.”
“Kathy,” she said.
Gabe was a bit surprised that she’d offered up her name so readily. She smiled warmly at Melanie.
“You look positively normal,” she said, her body going limp. “The last girl he brought home had pink hair and her nose pierced.”
Melanie looked to Gabe for guidance. He shrugged slightly. His mother had never taken a shine to any woman he dated.
“Well, I must warn you,” Melanie said. “I do have my navel pierced.”
His mom patted Melanie’s arm as if a pierced navel was the least of her concerns. “That’s nothing. My son has tattoos on his head.” She pointed to her own mass of short light brown curls. “On. His. Head.”
Melanie chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“I was a bit startled by them at first,” Melanie admitted, “but I’d already seen what he was like on the inside and the outer package was just gravy.”
Gabe smiled to himself, loving that Melanie was unashamed to speak of her attraction to him. Could she tell how much his mother abhorred his tattoos? If Melanie truly wanted to gain his mother’s favor all she had to do was agree that the only thing worse than Gabe dropping out of college to become a drummer-of-all-things was having his scalp tattooed. Apparently, Melanie declaring that she liked who he was on the inside was a good strategy as well.
Gabe watched dumbfounded as his mom looped an arm through Melanie’s and sat with her at the breakfast bar, leaving him to finish cooking.
“He had such a promising future before he joined that rock band,” his mother said, as if she were trying to talk Melanie out of doing something foolish, like fall in love with her rock star son. “We all thought he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps, though Gabe was always more interested in the application of physics than in the theory behind it.”
Melanie choked, no doubt thinking about how he applied physics. The tips of his ears burned with embarrassment. He in no way wanted his mother to know about his little hobby.
“I think he’s doing all right for himself,” Melanie said, and offered Gabe a wink. “Are you a nurse, then?” Melanie asked, examining his mother’s dark blue scrubs.
Gabe cringed. Melanie’s honeymoon period with his mother was about to come to a crashing end.
His mom clicked her tongue against her teeth in disapproval.
“And you were doing so well, Melanie. If I was a man in scrubs, you’d have thought I was…”
“A dentist?” Melanie guessed.
“A doctor.”
“My mother is a surgeon,” Gabe said, to let Melanie off the hook. His mother always played these little games with people. It drove him nuts.
“Oh,” Melanie said, looking impressed, “what kind of surgeon?”
“Heart surgeon. I was on my way home from the hospital after an emergency procedure when I saw Gabe’s lights on and thought I’d stop in to say hello. Doesn’t my son talk about his family?”
“A bit,” Melanie lied kindly.
“Where are you from?” his mom asked. “You don’t sound local.”
“Kansas.”
In the ten minutes it took Gabe to finish cooking their meal, his mother questioned Melanie about her education, her career, her family, her health, her parents’ health, her grandparents’ health, and her future prospects. Gabe’s head was spinning just from hearing the interview. He assumed Melanie would be exhausted after the extensive third degree.
Gabe mixed the hodgepodge of pasta with spaghetti sauce, microwaved meatballs, and parmesan cheese and set the pan on the granite countertop of the breakfast bar with a clunk.
“Are you staying for supper, mama?” he asked, praying silently that she would see her way out the door.
“What in the world are you feeding our pretty little Melanie?” she asked, eyeing the pan of pasta speculatively.
“Smells wonderful.” Melanie tossed him a bone.
“Spaghetti-less spaghetti,” Gabe said and removed the toasted garlic bread from the oven. He tossed it on the counter with a