The Rocker Who Betrays Me

  I slipped my backpack on and tried to climb over Zander’s sleeping body. The bed sank in as I opened the window a little more, and two strong arms wrapped around my waist. I sucked in a deep breath, secretly loving having him hold me like that, but didn’t melt against him as I ached to do.

  Zander pulled me down onto the bed and pulled me against him. “Sneaking out without so much as a goodbye? I’m hurt, Annabelle. You’re breaking my heart, babe.”

  I snorted. “Yeah. I can tell.” I grinned up at his smiling face, loving how his hazel eyes looked with the morning sun shining behind him. His eyes really were like windows to his soul. Most of the time they were full of amusement, but even when he was pissed and his temper was ready to go supernova, his eyes let you know what he was thinking. They turned more green than hazel, with gold flecks flashing like flames in his eyes. No matter which they happened to be, hazel or green, I always loved looking into them like I was doing right then.

  “Do you have to work after school today?”

  I nodded. During summer vacation I’d worked at my family’s garage every day. Since school had started a month before, I’d been working after school Wednesday through Friday and all day on Saturdays, because those tended to be our busiest days. It was Friday, and I would be closing the garage as I usually did.

  “I’ll pick you up and we can get a burger before we come home.” His eyes started to turn more green than hazel as he spoke. “I don’t think you should even go home tonight, babe. Just sleep here.”

  I lifted a brow at him, trying to make light of the whole thing because I knew he could go full-on green and gold in a heartbeat if I didn’t. “You sure you want to pick me up? I mean, won’t I be cramping your style, rocker boy? Don’t you and the guys have to play at Floyd’s Bar and slut yourselves out to the groupies?”

  The green disappeared and hazel eyes laughed down at me as he smirked. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous, babe.” He tickled me just under my ribs before I could lie by denying it. I bit back a laugh as he tickled me again before releasing me. “We’re playing early at Floyd’s, so I’ll be able to pick you up.”

  “Oh, okay. If you don’t mind, then I’d like that.” I sat up and Zander fell back onto the bed, smiling up at me like he always did.

  Looking down at him like that, being assaulted with how perfect he was, I couldn’t resist touching him. I lowered my head and quickly kissed his cheek. “Bye, Z,” I called over my shoulder as I climbed out the window.

  I might have gotten a little bold by kissing his cheek like that, but there was no way I was going to stick around and see his reaction. If he laughed at my innocent peck on his cheek I was pretty sure my heart would have broken. My feet were on the ground and I was about to turn and head for the street so I could catch the bus when he leaned out the window and caught my wrist.

  His eyes were green again, and those damn flecks of gold were shooting flames at me, but he was smiling. “See you tonight, babe.”

  CHAPER TWO

  Zander

  My shirt was soaked in sweat when I walked into my grandparents’ house that evening. Spending all day in the sun had become my way of life since graduation. Devlin Cutter and I had been working for the county from practically the start of summer and we both knew that it would be our career if OtherWorld didn’t take off like we hoped.

  I’d spent the day patching potholes on a back road with Devlin and two other guys for most of the day. The September heat had beat on me all day and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for the cooler weather that fall promised. I couldn’t complain too much, though. My job paid well, and I had benefits, plus evenings and weekends off, so our Friday-night gigs at Floyd’s Bar were still possible.

  Bending, I unlaced my steel-toed boots and kicked them off before entering the kitchen. I could smell Gram’s cornbread baking and my stomach grumbled in protest. It seemed like lunchtime had been days ago instead of just hours, and I was starving. Glancing at my watch, I figured I had time to take a quick shower before we sat down to eat.

  “Zander?” Gram called out as she left the pantry with a can of peas in her hand. Seeing me in her kitchen, her eyes softened and she smiled at me. “I thought you were going to be late.”

  I smirked at her as I dropped a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. “Nah, Gram. You know I would never be late for your supper.”

  She patted me on the shoulder and then grimaced when her hand came away covered in sweat. “I don’t know how you can stand being in the sun all day, honey. Your poor face is going to get as wrinkled as Gramps is before long if you keep it up. Did you wear sunblock?”

  I shook my head at the little old lady who had basically raised me. “I put some on, but it sweated off after about an hour. We were so busy I didn’t bother putting more on.”

  She made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat and I quickly excused myself to go take a shower before she used one of her wooden spoons to tan my hide for not listening to her. She was always worrying about me. If I’d thought that my graduating from high school and getting a real job would have made her stop, I’d been wrong. Not that I would admit it out loud, but I liked that she still worried about me.

  In the shower, I let out a relieved groan as I let the lukewarm water wash away the sweat and grime of the day. I took my time washing, since it was a Friday and we had our usual gig that night. We were going on earlier than usual that night because I’d requested it, so I didn’t have much time after supper to get out to Floyd’s Bar.

  The reasons for my request had gotten all of my band-brothers pissed off. Not because we were going to be in and out of the bar sooner than usual—meaning our pay wasn’t going to be nearly as good—but because they wouldn’t get the pussy that came with the later show. My jaw clenched and I leaned back against the shower wall as I thought about Annabelle.

  I didn’t mind her coming to me every night. I knew as long as she was in my room, she was safe. It was how scared she was every time she came to me that messed with my fucked-up head. Jacob Malcolm was a hair’s breath away from getting buried in one of the potholes on one of the back roads that I had to fix every day. It took all my willpower not to fuck that bastard up, but I’d refrained from doing so because Annabelle had begged me not to do anything that would land me in trouble.

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, I raked my hands through my dripping hair, pulling on the ends like the mad man I was. All my life I’d fought with my OCD, but I knew it was more than that. My mind was broken and there was nothing I could do to fix it. But when Annabelle was around, when I had her to smile at me and flash those damn blue eyes up at me, I felt like I wasn’t nearly as broken.

  That the one person who brought me peace was scared to even sleep in her own bed was not helping my sanity any.

  Muttering a curse, I beat my fist on the shower wall, imagining Jacob’s face as I destroyed it. It was only when my hand started to ache that I turned off the water and reached for a towel. My knuckles were swollen, but at least I hadn’t busted them open. It was going to be a bitch playing later, but I’d deal with that. I’d rather play hurt than have my rage for that fucker so close to the surface.

  I was still distracted from thinking about Annabelle, though. So much so that Gram kept asking me if I was alright during supper. I knew I was worrying her, but couldn’t manage to reassure her. She knew that if I wasn’t laughing and joking around that something was wrong, but Annabelle had pleaded with me not to tell my grandparents about what was going on in the house next door.

  “You gettin’ sick, boy?” Gramps asked as he swallowed a bite of the apple pie Gram had made for dessert.

  I forced a smile for the old man. He was the only father figure I’d ever known, and I knew I could have done a hell of a lot worse when it came to having a male role model to show me how to be a man. Gramps was a gruff man, who rarely showed any emotion, but he’d always treated Gram like she was a queen. That was good enough for me.

&
nbsp; “Nah, Gramps. Just tired. Been a long week.”

  Having worked his entire life for the county before retiring ten years before, Gramps understood just how tiring it could be. With a nod, Gramps went back to eating his pie and I hurried to finish my own so I could get out the door. Devlin was already waiting in his driveway two houses over when I called a ‘goodnight’ to Grams.

  Seeing me headed toward the old truck I’d bought with my first paycheck that summer, he came over and climbed in beside me. He had his own truck, but it was a waste of gas for us both to drive when we were going to the same place.

  Normally Devlin and I would have been joking the whole way to Floyd’s Bar, but neither of us was in a laughing mood that night. I’d told him that Annabelle had climbed through my window again the night before and he’d been brooding about it all day just as much as I had been.

  We knew what was going to happen if things didn’t change for Annabelle at home. Her brother had moved out at the beginning of the summer to live in the apartment above the garage his family owned—the only real garage in West Bridge Tennessee. He knew what was going on at home, but I don’t think he really understood the real danger his sister was in. Annabelle hadn’t told him everything. Once he did, once I told him all of it, things were going to change for all of us.

  Noah and Annabelle were closer than any siblings I’d ever known. He would want to protect her even more than I did. My jaw clenched and I shook my head as I stopped at the only stop sign in the county. Maybe more than I did. Maybe. I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but what-the-fuck-ever. Noah would put Annabelle first. He would want to get his sister as far away from their mother and stepfather as possible. I knew he would quit OtherWorld.

  My gut clenched at that thought. Not just because I would miss Noah, who was like a brother to me, but because I would miss Annabelle.

  So fucking much.

  I would miss her climbing through my window every night. I’d miss her burying her face against my chest and holding on to me until she fell asleep. I’d miss the way her soft little body felt against my own. And I’d miss waking up beside her every morning.

  For fifteen years I’d thought of Annabelle as a sister and one of my closest friends. But two years ago those feelings had shifted and I’d started looking at my friend in an entirely differently light. Annabelle wasn’t just a friend any longer. She was a hot chick who I wanted. Bad.

  Mostly I’d been able to keep a leash on my feelings for her, but that was getting harder and harder to do now. I’d been fighting with myself since that first damn night she’d tapped on my window. My fucked-up head didn’t understand that wanting Annabelle Cassidy was a bad thing. Not only was it wrong to want my best friend’s little sister, but she was two years younger than I was.

  Two years might not seem like that much of a difference, but when you were nearly nineteen and the girl wouldn’t be seventeen for a few more weeks, things got tricky. I was considered an adult while she was still technically a baby. Jailbait was what Liam had called her one night.

  Yeah. She was definitely jailbait.

  “You gonna go, bro?”

  I blinked, realizing I’d been stopped at the stop sign for several minutes. Letting a few curse words loose, I pressed on the gas and drove through the intersection. Devlin chuckled for the first time that day and I felt a little of my own tension ease slightly at the sound of my friend’s laughter.

  By the time we got to Floyd’s Bar, I was relaxed enough that I didn’t feel like a homicidal maniac. I played like shit when I was pissed and didn’t want to mess the night up even more than I already suspected it would be. Finding a parking spot, I jumped out of the truck and spotted the trailer that Wroth and Liam pulled with Wroth’s Ford. We kept our stuff in the trailer and since Wroth was always so worried about his guitar getting fucked up, he was the only one who pulled it.

  And since the fucker scared the shit out of me, I didn’t protest. Seriously, not much in the world scared me, but Wroth Niall was at the top of that short list. Second only to my fear of something happening to Annabelle.

  Noah, Liam and Wroth were already carrying our gear inside so Devlin and I jumped in to help. Mostly I played bass, but because my Gram had been forcing me to play the piano since I was three, I had some skills with the keyboard as well. Of course her version of skills was playing Mozart whereas mine was learning to play Metallica and actually making it sound good while being played on a cheap-ass keyboard.

  Because I loved my Gram so much, I’d learned to do both, but she didn’t need to know about the Metallica part. It would probably break the old lady’s heart and that would only lead to my broken mind getting that much more fucked up.

  Once everything was set up, we had half an hour before we had to start our set. We sat in the back office of the bar drinking the beers that Floyd slipped us. Wroth was the only one who was legal to drink, so if we wanted to drink we had to do it in the office.

  I lifted a beer to my lips and swallowed half before blowing out a long breath and finally turning my gaze to the guy sitting on the shabby old couch to my right. “We gotta talk, man.”

  Noah’s light blue eyes were so much like his sister’s that my gut twisted when he lifted them to meet mine. “What’s up?”

  I clenched my jaw and glanced around at the other guys in the room. Liam was off in the bathroom and I could only guess what he was doing. Since he’d started dating Tawny, his whole personality had changed and he’d been getting deep into the drug scene. Devlin sat on the rolling chair across from me and Wroth was staring off into space like he usually did. The dude was scary as hell without those demons flashing in his unfocused dark eyes; when they did, he looked like he was fucking possessed.

  “It’s about Annabelle,” Devlin cut in.

  Even from the few feet separating us on the couch I could feel the way Noah tensed up. “What about her?” he gritted out. “Is she okay?”

  I tipped my beer up and swallowed the rest in one gulp before speaking again. “She’s been spending the night with me every night for the last few weeks, man. She’s scared shitless of Jacob.”

  Light blue eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Noah snarled. “She’s been spending the night with you? How the fuck has she been spending the night with you?”

  “Dude, relax,” Devlin cut in. “It’s not like that. She’s just been sleeping there. Nothing else. Z wouldn’t do that, man.”

  I didn’t speak, because I wasn’t sure if I would do that or not. I wanted to, so damn bad. So far I’d been able to keep from crossing that line, but it kept getting harder and harder with each passing night.

  Noah’s shoulders dropped with something that looked like relief crossing his face. “Okay, then what the fuck is going on? Why is Annabelle sleeping in your room?”

  “Because things are ugly at your house, man,” I told him. “Your mom has been drinking every night. And not just a few glasses of wine, dude. She’s been getting shitfaced. She gets pissed and starts screaming at Jacob. I can hear her from my house.” Thankfully my grandparents were getting hard of hearing and hadn’t heard Wendy Cassidy-Malcolm screaming at her husband like the hag she was. “Then when she’s done screaming and throwing shit, she goes to bed and Jacob takes his frustration out on Annabelle. The first night you know about, but Anna didn’t tell you everything.”

  I knew when Annabelle found out I’d told her brother everything, she was going to get pissed at me, but I couldn’t let that shit keep going on without him knowing. So I told Noah about how Annabelle had been woken up one night over the summer to Jacob pulling her out of bed and slamming her against the wall. How he’d slapped her over and over again, splitting her lip and putting bruises all over her arms.

  I felt my rage starting to boil up all over again just thinking of how she had looked when she’d knocked on my window afterward. Her lip had been bleeding and she’d had black and blue fingerprints on her soft peaches-and-cream arms. She begged me
not to do anything, pleaded for me to just stay and hold her that night and the rest of the weekend. By the time I’d had to go to work that Monday, I’d been a little more sane, but not by much. I’d kept my hands off Jacob Malcolm, but I’d made sure that he knew I was watching him.

  Of course he hadn’t heeded my threats for more than a week or so before he’d woken Annabelle with a slap to her beautiful face. She’d climbed through my window that night with a red handprint on her cheek. I’d paid a visit to the fucker at work the next day and given him a few handprints of my own. He’d told everyone he’d gotten his black eye from walking into a door, and Annabelle had been able to sleep in her own bed for several more weeks without having to worry about her stepfather hurting her.

  “A few weeks ago he did it again,” I bit out as I glared off into space, flashes of Annabelle holding her bleeding nose making my hands fist on my thighs. “She begged me not to say anything to you, and I didn’t out of loyalty to her. But I made sure Jacob knew I wasn’t playing around. He still walks a little stiff from where I punched him in the ribs.”

  “So she’s been scared all summer?” Noah’s voice was hoarse, his blue eyes nearly cobalt with emotion. “He’s been beating on her and she’s been so scared that she doesn’t even sleep in her own bed. Why didn’t she tell me?”

  I shrugged. “Probably because she knows that you’ll do something crazy. Like kill the fucker.” It was what I wanted to do to the bastard. But it was the image of her begging me with tear-filled baby-blue eyes not to do anything that would take me away from her that had kept my instinct to destroy that little prick in check.