Call on Me

  I wanted Rae to have this for her debut. The charm is made from my Patti Smith Horses album. I wore one like it my first night on stage (though my drug of choice was a Nirvana album), and it made me feel like I was part of something bigger, a new link in this big web of art and music and rebellion. Tell her nerves can’t beat true punk spirit and that I know she’s going to fucking kill it and be great.

  Best, Pike

  Oakley pressed the note to her chest and leaned back against the column, her lungs crushing under the weight of everything the simple gift stirred up. He hadn’t sent something to Oakley. This wasn’t an apology or a plea. This was for Rae and Rae alone and that got to her more than any grand romantic gesture he could’ve done.

  Yes, they’d only known each other for a little while, but somehow he already intuitively knew what her daughter would need tonight, how to help her feel stronger, how to help her feel special and brave. It was a gesture a great dad would make.

  Oakley closed her eyes, willing herself to pull it back together, and placed the necklace back into the box to bring it backstage to Reagan.

  As expected, Reagan’s eyes lit up when Oakley showed her what Pike had sent her. She grabbed the necklace, running her fingers over the grooved vinyl of the charm with awed reverence. “I wonder what song this piece was made from.”

  Oakley took the necklace from her and looped it around Reagan’s neck. The little black sparrow nestled in the hollow of her throat like it was meant to be there.

  Rae looked up at her, all big eyes and open emotion. “I wish he could’ve been here tonight.”

  Oakley felt a stab in her gut. “I know, baby. I’m sure he wishes he could’ve been here, too.”

  “I thought you like liked him. I thought you were going to fall in love—like in the movies—and that he could be my dad since I never got one.”

  Oakley took a long breath, the wistfulness in Rae’s voice flaying her. Never before had Reagan expressed any desire to have a father in her life. Oakley had thought she’d surrounded her with enough to fill that gap—all the love she had to give plus her brother and Hunter heavily involved. But she should’ve known that it was still there—just like the empty spot Oakley had inside her where her parents used to be, just like Pike had for the family he was cut off from. “I do like him, but Mr. Pike has a very busy job and he has to be on the road. I’m sure we’ll see him again soon, though.”

  She hated how the lie rolled off her tongue, but how could she tell her daughter that she’d sent Pike away? That they might never see him again.

  A volunteer who was handling the backstage stuff clapped her hands and called for everyone to come take their places. Rae looked over her shoulder and then back to Oakley, worry flitting over her expression again. “I guess I better go.”

  Oakley took Rae’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “You’ve got this, baby girl. Just go out there and have fun with your friends. The rest will work itself out.”

  Rae nodded and touched the sparrow pendant, rubbing it like a rabbit’s foot. “I love you, Mom.”

  Warmth bled through Oakley. “I love you too, Rae. Now go rock it.”

  Reagan hurried off to get in her place, and Oakley went back out front to take her position against the wall again, still too anxious to sit. Before long, the lights went down and the curtains went up.

  Reagan stepped onto the stage looking small and beautiful and overwhelmed. Oakley had one brief moment of panic that Rae was going to fall apart. But then Reagan touched her necklace, gave the audience a shy smile, and gave the drummer his cue to start. She closed her eyes and began to sway to the beat in a way Oakley had never seen her do before—and just like the way Oakley used to calm herself when she was on stage. By the time Rae opened her eyes and the first notes came out of her mouth, she was every bit the strong, brave girl Oakley knew her to be.

  Oakley stood there, awed and proud and overwhelmed, tears filling her eyes.

  The child who hadn’t spoken until she was almost four, who had suffered panic attacks when she’d first had to be in a classroom with others, was now holding an audience in thrall with the power of not just her voice but her pure, shining presence.

  Rae had stopped being afraid.

  Maybe it was time Oakley did the same.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Pike jogged off stage, adrenaline pumping, the screaming roar of the crowd still ringing in the background. The audience had wanted an encore—from an opening band. That shit never happened, but this was the third stop this week where Darkfall had gone back out to play a few more songs. It was happening. The new songs were taking off and grabbing people. Now instead of just seeing Wanderlust T-shirts and signs out in the audience, he was seeing Darkfall merch. He could sense the shift, the swell of support growing.

  And when he was out there on stage, he was flying. His drums around him, his head only filled with beats and song, the crowd whipping up into a frenzy—it was a high no one would’ve been immune to. But he knew what awaited him once he hit backstage—and what he’d faced every damn night of this first month on tour. The life. The girls. The partying. Another long ride on the bus.

  As much as he loved that hour on stage each night, the rest of it was wearing him down. Braxton and Geoff had noticed and had tried to do their part, sending pretty groupies and high-end liquor his way. But neither held any appeal. He couldn’t look at the groupies with any interest anymore. His goggles had been broken. Instead of seeing hot bodies and eager eyes, he’d notice all the other stuff—how much younger they were than him, how fake the conversation was, how empty the attraction. How fucking boring the whole game was.

  And though he’d partaken of the liquor the first week or two, waking up with a booming headache and sick stomach had gotten old quickly, too. He wasn’t built for this anymore.

  So most of the time, he’d find his way back to his hotel room and tinker with the songs of the artists he was working with at the studio. Or he’d hang out with Lex and his woman since they weren’t into the party scene either. But it was beginning to feel like a grind already.

  He missed home and Monty and his friends.

  He missed Oakley.

  Pike weaved his way through the backstage chaos, people parting for him like he was a boat fighting upstream. He needed to get out as quickly as he could. This was Vegas and they were here for a three-day break, so the guys were dead set on dragging his ass out for a night on the town. Pike couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less.

  A few people called his name, and he gave a nod or a wave of acknowledgment, keeping his feet moving forward. Fans, thankfully, weren’t back here yet because the main act hadn’t gone on stage, so he could at least avoid dealing with that. He made his way to the back door, the fresh air, and the limo that would drive him to the hotel.

  Pike greeted the driver and climbed into the limo, inhaling the peace and quiet like it was the first oxygen he’d breathed all night.

  “Where to, Mr. Ryland?” the man asked.

  “Bellagio.”

  Something banged on the top of the car. Pike swung his gaze to the window. “What the fuck?”

  The door yanked open and both Braxton and Geoff peered in. “Oh no you don’t, asshole. You’re not getting out of tonight. It’s your birthday, and we’re taking you out.”

  “Yeah, man,” Brax said, sliding in and giving the driver an address. “Don’t be a punk. We’ve been letting you act like an old man for the past couple weeks. No way we’re letting you do that in Vegas.”

  “My birthday isn’t until next week,” Pike groused.

  Geoff climbed in, shoving Pike all the way to the other side of the car. “But we won’t be in Vegas then. Tonight’s the night.”

  “I—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ryland,” Braxton said with a smile. “We’re taking you hostage. There is no choice here.”

  “Don’t I even get a safe word?”

  “Nope, we don’t want to be safe, sane, or
consensual with you tonight,” Geoff answered.

  Pike let his head fall back and rubbed a hand over his face as the limo took off. Normally he wouldn’t let them strong-arm him into anything. But it would be a dick move to shut them down when they were trying to do something nice for him.

  Pike blew out a breath. “As long as it’s not that strip club we went to last time we were here. That was freaking bizarre.”

  Geoff snickered. “What? Not a fan of painted and bedazzled pussy?”

  “Those sparkly things must hurt like hell when they pull them off,” Braxton said, flipping the switch for the privacy window. “And your dick probably comes out tie-dyed when you fuck them.”

  Pike snorted. “I wouldn’t go near that shit.”

  “Right. Like you’d go near anyone.” Geoff fished a few beers out of the chiller. “You’re like a fucking monk lately.”

  “That’s changing tonight,” Braxton assured him. “Don’t want your dick shriveling from lack of use. We’re getting you laid, son.”

  Pike accepted a beer from Geoff. “Worry about your own dick, Brax. Mine’s not your concern.”

  Braxton sent him a shit-eating grin. “Oh, I make sure someone worries about mine every night, preferably multiple times.”

  Pike sniffed and sipped his beer. This was going to be a long night. He watched the scenery go by through the tinted windows, the colorful, dancing lights of Vegas a counterpoint to his dark mood. When they crawled past his hotel, he had to fight the urge to tell the driver to stop and let him out. But he forced himself to keep his mouth shut. He would do this for the guys. It wouldn’t hurt him to sit in a club or bar and drink while the guys did their thing.

  But soon the colors became muted outside the windows and the limo picked up speed, hitting open road after creeping its way down the strip. Pike frowned at the changing scenery. “Where the hell are we going? Finding a place to kill me and dump the body?”

  Braxton stretched his arm over the back of the seat. “Need to go outside of city limits for what we’re after.”

  Pike eyed him, annoyance setting in. “I swear to God if you fuckers are taking me to some brothel, I’m going to kick your goddamned asses.”

  The corner of Geoffrey’s mouth lifted. “Come on, man. You know we’ve got more class than that.”

  “Says the man who picked out the painted-pussy palace.”

  “Just relax, Ryland.” Brax gripped Pike’s shoulder and gave him a little shake. “We’ve got something real nice set up for the birthday boy. Trust us.”

  The words were ominous in the dark of the limo. He trusted these guys with his life. He did not, however, trust them to have free reign over him in Vegas. “Ah, hell, I’m fucked.”

  Brax flashed teeth. “That’s the spirit.”

  Finally, the limo pulled into a long driveway. Pike leaned forward to peer out the window. A sprawling house that seemed to grow right out of the desert mountain landscape glittered in the distance, the porch lights and windows glowing bright.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “Your birthday present.”

  He looked between the two of them, confused as shit. “You didn’t buy me a damn house.”

  Braxton snorted. “No, we’re not that good of friends. But we got you what you need. A few days away from the chaos, all the privacy you could want, and someone to keep you company.”

  He stiffened at that. “I don’t need fucking company.”

  Braxton shrugged and opened the door. “Then send her home. But this is our last stop. We’ve got rooms booked at the kink club a few miles from here.”

  “There should be a rental car parked out back you can use.”

  Pike stared up at the looming house. The call of three days of privacy and quiet was a strong one. The hooker would be an issue, but he’d pay her whatever they’d promised her and call her a cab. Easy enough.

  “You’re just going to leave me here?”

  Braxton clapped him on the back. “We know the last few weeks have been rough on you. Go. Recharge. Figure shit out. We’ve got a bag for you in the trunk.”

  Pike looked between the two of them, the simple gesture saying more than anything else could’ve. He’d thought all these weeks the guys had been pissed that Pike wasn’t participating in the antics like he used to, but they’d been paying attention. They fucking knew he was struggling.

  These were his brothers and they were trying to take care of him.

  He reached out to grasp hands with each guy, thumping each on the back and thanking them. Braxton slid out of the way and Pike climbed out of the limo. He stuck his head back in. “Don’t get yourself in too much trouble at the kink club, amateurs.”

  Geoff grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Pike laughed, wished them luck, and shut the door. After grabbing his bag out of the back, he headed up the driveway, ready to face the last obstacle before he could get a few days of peace.

  The large iron-and-glass front door was unlocked, so he let himself inside and tossed his bag on the marble floor of the grand foyer.

  “Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing.

  “In here.” The female voice was low and distant, but he could make out where it was coming from.

  Pike sighed. The guys had gotten everything right except the hooker part. That was the last thing he fucking needed. But the good thing about working girls was that money talked. She’d go away happy for the weekend off probably. Way easier to send on her way than a determined groupie.

  He headed to where he’d heard the voice come from and rounded the corner into a living room. An impressive wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the pool and the dark desert mountains behind. That caught his eye first. But then he heard a shift of movement. He turned his head, expecting to find the hired help.

  But a done-up woman with a practiced smile wasn’t who greeted him. No, sitting in the middle of the couch was the girl he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since he’d left Dallas.

  He froze half a step inside the room, all the air leaving his chest. “Oakley?”

  Oakley smiled, tentative, beautiful. “Hi.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The floor seemed to fall out from beneath Pike as he stared at the woman before him. He swiped a hand over his face, unsure if he was seeing things, but Oakley remained. His body moved forward, automatically heading over to embrace Oakley—but he pulled up short before he could make a fool of himself. He gripped the back of the chair opposite her. “What are you doing here?”

  “The guys didn’t tell you I was in here?”

  “What? No they said—” They’d said they’d gotten him what he needed. Fuck, had the guys guilted Oakley into coming out here? His hope fell. He didn’t need some pity party from her. “They brought you here?”

  She considered him, those dark eyes scanning his. “They helped me work it out. But I’m the one who called them.”

  “You called them? Why would you—Why wouldn’t you call me?” He stepped around the chair and sank into it, afraid his legs wouldn’t hold him up. The rush of seeing her here was almost too much to process. He’d thought about her so many times since he’d left. Now she was here, just a few feet away from him, looking more beautiful than ever, like a mirage in the desert.

  “I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I … I needed to do this face to face.”

  He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. “Do what face to face? Was the pregnancy test wrong?”

  God, it was fucking ridiculous how his heart lifted at the thought.

  She took a deep breath and then let it out, smoothing the skirt of her sundress. “No, it’s not that. I’m not pregnant. But from the beginning we’ve promised that we would be honest with each other, right?”

  He frowned. “Of course.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I wasn’t honest with you before you left.”

  “What do you mean?”

&n
bsp; “I said our heads were screwed up because of the pregnancy scare. I said I liked you, but didn’t want a relationship. I lied.” She lifted her gaze, finding his. “Yes, my head was screwed up with the pregnancy scare, but my heart wasn’t. I fell in love with you before we ever got to the broken condom, Pike. I’ve been falling for you since the day I met you. And I pushed you away because I was fucking terrified of how powerful it all felt.”

  His breath stopped, the words seeming to hover and hum between them. She loved him? She loved him. He got up, planting a booted foot on the coffee table and climbing over it, not wanting to waste time walking around it.

  “Baby …” He went to his knee in front of her, taking her hands, wanting to let her finish saying what she needed to.

  She gave a wavering smile, her eyes going shiny, and she gave a self-conscious little headshake, like she was embarrassed she was being so emotional. “I know it may be too little too late. I’ve wanted to come find you since you walked out, but I needed to give us both time. Our relationship happened in this vacuum. Things were so intense and fast with us from the beginning that I wanted to make sure they weren’t feelings that would fade just as fast. I wanted you to go on tour and remind yourself of that life, of who you were before we met. I needed to get back to my normal life and do the same.”

  He rubbed his thumbs over her cold hands, fighting hard not to just grab her and take her in his arms.

  “But I realized I couldn’t get back to my normal life because you’ve permanently altered it, altered me. All I felt was this giant hole in my life that hadn’t been there before but now seemed to be all I could think about.”

  The air sagged out of Pike, and he put his forehead to her knee. He knew exactly how that felt. It’d been his story every night on the road so far. The world was the same. He was different. An alien on a formerly familiar planet.

  Oakley’s hands flexed in his. “But I know it’s been almost six weeks since you left and just because I feel this way doesn’t mean I expect the same from you. If how you feel about me has changed, I understand. I just didn’t want to leave things how they were. You deserved to know the truth.”